I lie awake underneath thin, white sheets, bare legs pressed against rough fabric. Beside me, a digital clock on my bed stand ticks, the metronomic droning seemingly eternal. I glance over to find myself awake yet again in the early hours after midnight.
I turn, tucking my chin into my chest, trying to stop the trembling from both the cold and my conflict within.
I am doing the right thing. This research could save everyone. These lives are worth those of everyone else.
The subjects will never go if presented with choice. I wouldn't; that's why I need to do this. That's why the memory procedure is necessary.
I sit up, finally giving up on sleep. My bare feet press cool and silent against the floor as I cross my room towards a white safe.
I scan my finger on the identification pad, and with a click, the cabinet opens, revealing a cooling box with thirty identical syringes.
Trembling slightly, I reach in and procure one, delicately holding it between my fingers. A blue liquid is held within: 10 mL in each syringe: just the right amount.
It'll be painless. They won't feel anything, and after, if my serum works- they won't remember feeling anything.
I place the syringe back in place with a shaking hand. Part of me wishes the serum won't work- part of me continues to hate myself for doing this- helping her, but I know there's no use. The serum is mine; it will work indefinitely.
Suddenly, there's a soft knock at my door.
My heart starts.
I know exactly who it is. I scramble to my feet. I haven't seen him in a week. He won't see me.
I swing open the door, meeting familiar slate grey eyes in the near-darkness. Julian walks in without a word and shuts the door behind him, leaning against it.
For a moment, we're both silent, the steady whir of the cooling box the only sound in the room. Finally, he glances over at it, and I instinctively move, placing myself between him and it.
He stares beyond me as if he can see through the safe and into syringes to the serums within.
"You can't let her have them." He says, voice low and drawn out, careful. I shake my head.
"It will save everyone." I say.
"Not them." I bite my lip.
"Everyone else." I pause, "It's what's right, Julian." For another moment, he's silent, but after a minute, I notice he's shaking.
"And you get to make that decision?"
I bite my lip.
"If not me, then who else?" I reason, "Paige?"
Julian offers a small scoff.
"Like your decision isn't hers anyways." His words sting, but I do not retort.
"It may be what she would have wished, but I didn't make it for her." I say, lip trembling, "I made it for you. You never would have, and our research would have gotten nowhere. You know this, I know you do."
Now, I must I resist the urge to run to him, to wrap my arms around him and hold him until I find myself again.
When it becomes too much to bear, and I know I'll crack, I turn to close the cabinet. It shuts with a click; when I turn back to face Julian, my heart drops.
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Newt x Reader || A13
FanfictionHe was alone; he was fragile; he was scared, crumbling under the weight of a leader's role. He is the glue. She is bold; she is determined; she is confused, haunted by visions of her forgotten past. She is the trigger. From the ashes of a world dest...
