Chapter Text
Sunny tried to squash the desperate feeling welling in her again, flicking her eyes between the bomb currently strapped to her and the doorway in the back of the auditorium where Denton had exited minutes before. Another trickle escaped her eyes, joining the beads of sweat all over her face. Her mouth was dry (a sharp contrast to her skin and eyes), the bright light of the auditorium stage combined with the heavy bomb apparatus was making every fiber of clothing sodden and sticky, and she didn't want to think about her pants. Denton hadn't considered letting her use a restroom even once during the whole twenty hours she'd been his captive; too risky, he said. He was right, too. I would've taken him out if he'd given me the slightest wiggle room. Maybe. It would depend on where his bomb trigger was. She glanced down and shuddered mentally again.
She hadn't lied entirely; she wasn't afraid of him personally, but she really, really didn't want to die. If it were only torture, if I knew he would leave me alive… I could handle it. And facing the impending reality of one's death wasn't easy, but that was just her alone. If he got Brooke there… she couldn't see how they would both live. She attempted to blink back another tear.
The click of the door closing at the back drew her eyes up. The sight that met them was both welcoming and horrifying: Brooke strode down the stairs towards her, calling her name in the gentlest tones she'd ever heard Brooke use. And Denton was right behind her. She didn't… she knows better! Sunny knew the rules of hostage situations. She knew Brooke knew them—and had just broken them all.
"You all right, Sunny?" Brooke asked.
"I'm fine," Sunny called back in reassurance. She'd save the chewing Brooke out part for later—if there was a later for her. And if there was going to be one, the only way she could help was to stay out of whatever Brooke was doing. Sunny decided she really hated being a liability.
So she watched Denton's finger hover above the trigger, as he ordered Brooke to unload her gun. Sunny tried to make herself breathe. The gun clattered across the seats. For some reason, breathing didn't get any easier.
She tuned out Denton's attempt at a speech. She'd heard enough already; it wouldn't help her get out of her predicament. Either Brooke would find a way to save her, or she would die. Hell of a task for a friend, she thought.
Then he pressed the button, and fled. The timer started beeping. This is it, Sunny told herself. Brooke would have to be crazy to try to disarm a bomb made by a serial killer with a philosophical obsession.
Brooke grabbed the "instructions" and ran towards Sunny. OK, she's crazy. Brooke only had a little bomb squad training; she didn't defuse them on a regular basis.
The seconds ticked away; every beep seemed to make Sunny's heart pound more. They were running out of time, and Brooke didn't seem to be making headway at reading the paper Denton left.
"We got him!" Sunny's heart lifted a little when she heard Coyle shout; at least her death would be Denton's last kill? At this point she had resigned herself to that fate. Well, as resigned as one could get with a racing heart and short breaths.
It was one thing to submit to death; it was another to watch a friend sacrifice herself. When Coyle sent the others away and headed towards her, that was the last straw. I can't watch them both do this! "Get out of here! I am speaking to the both of you!" she called loud enough for him to hear. They promptly ignored her. Somehow she'd expected that—but she dreaded it all the same.
Every breath became a struggle, each beep an almost-perceptible slamming in her chest. Another tear slipped down her cheek. She tried to focus on the conversation, but the only thing that sunk in was that neither of them really knew for sure what to do, thanks to Denton's mind games. "You guys, get out of here," she gasped, not bothering to hold back the tears. At least they could let her die knowing they were alive and well, if they left now. They didn't, of course.
Brooke settled on the black wire, and glanced at Sunny before doing it. Sunny could no longer respond, her face frozen and staring at Brooke's hands as they positioned themselves to pull the wire. Brooke yanked.
The timer fizzled out. Sunny collapsed onto the chains like a puppet whose strings were cut, heaving as she tried to catch her breath. It's over, she tried to tell herself. Her lungs and heart didn't seem to get the picture.
Brooke and Coyle seemed frozen in place, their breathing not as labored as Sunny's but paralyzing all the same. They crouched, rooted to the spot, a tableau of almost-statues for ten seconds. Then Jess peeked around the corner at the back; deciding the scene in front of her meant success, she sped down the steps, followed by the other agents.
"Somebody get me some bolt cutters!" Coyle called to them. Brooke stood up and rested a hand briefly on Sunny's shoulder. Sunny gritted her teeth slightly to prevent the chattering she could feel any minute now. She lifted her head to look at Brooke, hoping that some little bit of gratitude was being communicated by her eyes; the rest of her face was too uncontrollable right then.
Sunny ducked her head as Jess ran up. "Hey," Jess breathed, leaning her forehead against Sunny's. She placed a hand on Sunny's head briefly; the gesture started crumbling the clamps on her teeth. "You okay?" Jess asked in a whisper, reaching a hand to grip the other woman's. Sunny's teeth started to chatter. Jess wrapped her arms around Sunny, who leaned into her as far as the chains would allow her. "Breathe with me," Jess insisted, as Sunny's shoulders shuddered in her attempts to draw air into her lungs. "In, out. In, out," Jess guided. The tears started to stream down Sunny's face. The bomb was still sitting on her chest, but a feeling of safety started to creep in with the others surrounding her; Brooke and Coyle guarding, Jess comforting. The trio of protectors held their places for the couple minutes it took for the chattering and gasping to settle. Sunny thought she might be able to breathe again.