In The Middle (Namon/PangWave One Shots)

La Petite Mort

"And when we do find each other again, we'll cling together so tight that nothing and no one'll ever tear us apart. Every atom of me and every atom of you... We'll live in birds and flowers and in those little specks of light you see floating in sunbeams."

~ Philip Pullman, His Dark Materials ~

Wave walked down a dark corridor, his footsteps echoing ever so softly. The place smelled like mold and mildew, and everything felt damp. Towards the end of the blackness of the hallway, light flowed through one room. He picked up his pace, the plastic bag he was holding swinging by his leg. He turned around the corner and into the room where the light was coming from.

The first thing he saw was the small tent so dastardly out of place in the small space that was just as devoid of any comfort as the rest of the building. Further near the windows, Pang sat in silence on his lawn chair, staring blankly at the opaque windows, probably mulling over whatever godforsaken thought was floating inside that dumb head of his.

Stepping beside Pang who didn't seem to notice his presence, Wave dropped the plastic bag he was carrying beside Pang's feet without any care. "Here," he said as the carton inside the plastic bag gave a dull thud as it hit the dusty floor. He glanced around the room again, trying to take everything in. "How long are you going to stay here? I'm in so much trouble hiding this from our friends."

Pang finally let out a sound: A pessimistic sigh that had any sort of humanity in it sucked out. "How are the others?"

"The Director is preparing for the Gifted Project and trying to finding you. Recently, he called a meeting with us and ordered us to tell him immediately after we found you. Otherwise, we'd need to inject ourselves with the virus."

Pang looked up at him. The blank stare that he gave the walls and windows morphed into shock, and then, something akin to horror and anger. He stood up, never breaking his harrowing stare at Wave. Then, his expression shifted again to that of worry, of fear. "You found me, so what's next? You have to tell the Director."

Wave blinked at him, averting his gaze for a moment, and looking back at Pang with a steeled glint in his eyes, speaking in a defiant tone: "His potential's got nothing on me."

Walking closer, their bodies barely inches apart, Pang's eyes shifted back to that harrowing gaze, wary of what he will hear next. Wave could see the gears in Pang's head whirring; he could anticipate the question about to be asked and he knew Pang wouldn't like his answer.

"Did you inject yourself with the virus?" said Pang, the words seeping through his teeth.

Wave couldn't bring himself to answer but his silence and inability to look Pang directly in the eyes was enough of an answer to Pang. "Why did you do that?!" the words rushed furiously out of Pang's lips.

Even though he knew Pang would get angry, there was a small part of Wave that wished Pang would be touched by his undying loyalty to him. But that scene he imagined in his head of Pang embracing him and consoling him didn't play out so, like the times before, there was nothing left for Wave to do but answer back to Pang with equal vileness.

"Are you telling me I'm stupid?!" hissed Wave. His hands curled into a fist. "You're right. I'm so stupid for never giving up on you." Pang pulled away his gaze and Wave's fingers fidgeted, trying to calm himself and easing his tone. "If you can't figure out what your next move is, fine. But first, get out of here. This is not a place to live. You can't hide and live like this forever. Are you just waiting for the day you die to come?"

Pang pivoted back to him. The anger laced in his voice was rising. The disdain and self-loathing was breathing through his words. "Wouldn't that be nice? If I died, everything would end—"