Chapter Text
Today was a weird day.
There were a few reasons for that, admittedly. The first being that it was Tuesday. Tuesdays were always weird. A liminal space between the grudging start of the week and the relief of being in the last half. I always felt like I just kind of was on a Tuesday. The second was that school had let out an hour ago, and instead of being literally anywhere else, I was standing in line with my sister at a research centre in the middle of Westopolis.
Ahead of us in line, as well as behind, stretched a long line of other teenagers, all looking about as awkward as I felt. Everyone was in baggy clothes, baggy eyes, some gaunt, some dirty, some looking like their very being was fraying along with their attire. A bunch of teenagers with no other options or ideas. My sister and I were probably two of the most put-together of the lot, and that was saying something. Even our own clothes hung a bit loosely; thrifted clothes big enough that we wouldn’t have to worry if we managed to have a final growth spurt.
That didn’t change the fact that all of us, without exception, looked like we needed the world to throw us a bone.
Which, invariably, was why we were here.
My sister and I got to the front of the line. A receptionist sat behind the desk, barely glancing at us from over her computer.
“Names and ID, please,” she said.
“Crystal Ender,” I lead, as always, pushing my UF citizen card across the desk.
“Alexa Ender,” my sister chimed in as her card followed mine. The receptionist’s gaze flickered over the cards, typing information off from each one. A few seconds later, she hummed, sliding our cards back towards us.
“You two are foster kids?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Again, I spoke first.
“Good, good,” the woman muttered, tapping away at the keyboard. “Just join that line down the left hallway. You’ll be taken in shortly.”
We headed down as instructed, pocketing our cards as we went. Along the way, Alexa whispered in my ear. “Why ask our names if they’re on the cards, anyway?”
“I dunno. In case they’re fake cards?”
“Who would give a fake card without knowing the name on it?” I snorted in response as we joined the line. The other kids in line looked just the same as before, even though it looked like there were less of them. We were moving at a pretty good pace, if nothing else.
There were more adults in here, too. Around the middle of the hall, a man in a lab coat was directing everyone at the front of the line. He had an earpiece in, and every minute or so he’d direct the next kid into one of the side rooms. There was a janitor farther down, mopping up some spill. And someone milling around near where we stood at the back. He didn’t have a labcoat on, or any other noticeable uniform, but he had the same small earpiece as the labcoat man. It looked like he was playing sudoku.
The line moved up.
I assumed everyone was here for the same reason me and Alexa were. They were doing drug trials, apparently, for some new medicine for teenagers, and they needed a group of control kids in the right age before going to test on the actual sick kids. We were the last trial run before then. They were paying for our involvement, too, which I supposed was the whole reason for the group they got. In this area of the city, there were plenty of kids who needed the money.
We got to the front of the line.
I was instructed to go to the first door on the right.
Alexa was instructed to go to the first door on the left.
I gave her hand a quick squeeze before we parted. It shouldn’t take long.
I was told to lie down on one of those doctor’s beds. The paper crinkled beneath me.
My arm was swabbed with something I assume was sanitizing.
Another labcoat person, this one with a mask and a syringe, suggested I look away if I was squeamish.
I stubbornly watched the syringe and tried not to tense.
I saw the purple liquid disappear and could have sworn, for just a moment, that my entire body was on fire.
Then the sensation was gone.
For a moment, I laid frozen, trying to parse what the hell had just happened.
Someone asked how I felt. The words “just fine” left my mouth before I could even process the question.
Someone put some papers under my nose, a pen in my hand, and asked me to sign something. Dimly, I thought that they probably should have done this before injecting me with strange liquids.
Especially when said liquids still left the ends of my nerves tingling with something I couldn’t recognize.
A few minutes later (or hours, it was hard to tell), I was guided back out to where I had come in. Alexa was already there, slouched in a chair, looking bored. Once she saw me, a sort of lazy smile came over her face. She must be as dazed as I was.
That was fine. I could get us home.
We got to the subway station just fine on autopilot, and by then the buzzing in my head had died down enough that I could actually read the schedule. Half an hour later, we were walking in the door.
Our foster mom called out to us from the apartment’s cramped living room. Apparently my buzzing head wasn’t doing as much better as I thought it was, though, because I didn’t understand a word of it. I shouted something back about going to bed early, and me and Alexa pushed our way into our shared bedroom. Our bags fell onto the floor as we piled into our bunk bed.
Just the effort of going up the ladder made my head spin again.
For a few minutes, I simply laid there, focussing on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Eyes closed, trying to focus on the rhythmic sensation of my lungs. It helped centre me. Ground me. When I opened my eyes again, the room had stopped spinning. That was nice.
“Hey… Crystal?”
“Yeah?” Alexa’s voice was just as groggy as my own. She must have been doing about as good as me, then. Which was to say not very.
“What do you think that blue stuff was?”
“...Huh?”
“The… the inject-y stuff. Into the arm. That they gave us.”
“Oh.” I frowned for a second. “I got purple.”
“One of them was probably… probably the placebo one, then,” Alexa said. This time, it was followed by a yawn.
“Probably.” No, wait, there was something weird about that. I hadn’t gotten the placebo, had I? I couldn’t have. “Did you feel all burny after?”
“Oh. Yeah. For a second. Then it went away. What time is it?”
“I dunno. Early.” There was something there. Something important. If it affected us both, then neither of us had gotten placebo. Right. Great. Cool. But then… then why the different colours? Were they just different kinds of the drug? That had to be it, right. That made sense. Just slightly different versions. To see which was more effective. That was why we were both sleepy, too. It was just a side effect. It would go away soon.
In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to get a little shut-eye. It wasn’t like we had anything better to do.
My eyes slid shut again. There was some sound like a knock. Was it at the door? My limbs felt leaden; even just the thought of moving now sounded like hell. Not a chance.
My dreams felt too big. That was the only way to describe it– big . It wasn’t just me in them. There was Alexa in the bunk below. Our foster mom puttering about; first just outside, then drifting further away. There were the apartments above and below us, the people inside. I could feel everything . Every crease of a blanket, every chipped floorboard, every smooth bowl, every pitted fruit. Every sensation and surface, like a gray backdrop, everything moving and shifting and staying still, all at the same time. Every person was like a bright dot, moving around, going about their business and glowing against the world around them. It was all chaos, but it was all order, too: for every moving part, every bit of water rushing through a pipe, there was something still, some remote sitting forgotten on a table.
And all the people were whispering .
I could hear it, not with my ears, but my head, my heart . Every thought that crossed their minds– I should take out the trash, I have taxes to file, I hope my team wins the game – everything, a maelstrom of thought and plans and it was all so, so much .
Where was I? I needed something to focus on, something to centre myself with. I took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. I couldn’t pick it out against the city block of other sensations. Everyone else was breathing, too, what made mine any different?
I couldn’t find myself. Panic overcame me. What would happen if I couldn’t find myself again? Would I be lost forever, doomed to this eagle-eyed view? What if I was doing something right now and I just couldn’t tell? Was my body on autopilot?
No. Focus. Don’t spiral. Get back.
How?
Where was Alexa?
I tried to find our apartment. A metal bunk bed. Old, worn blankets. Two sleeping teenagers. Focus, Crystal. What would Alexa be thinking about?
Was she feeling this same thing as me? Was she in trouble? Was she lost?
Let’s say she isn’t. We were going to sleep.
Is this a dream?
Focus.
School. Tomorrow’s homework. We forgot to do our homework. That’s something she would be worried about. We were at a new school, we were lost enough with the assignments as it was, and Alexa wanted to make sure we graduated in a few years. We’d have to do our homework on the bus tomorrow, and–
There!
There she was. And, yes, she was worried about our homework. And there I was, right above her. I sunk back into myself. I pulled myself in close, and gradually, the rest of the block started to go quiet.
It was like a field around me was shrinking, a bubble of awareness getting smaller and smaller. Counters and tv’s halfway down the street disappeared. The cars stopped racing by. Even our foster mom, in her own room, faded away. Then it was just me and Alexa, and with a bit of hesitation, I shrunk my mental sight of her away, too. I was back.
I woke up.
Weird dream . What time was it? A quick glance at the clock showed that it was way, way too early. The fuzziness from yesterday was almost entirely gone, leaving me feeling like some cotton had gotten stuck on the way out. What time had we fallen asleep ?
When Alexa groaned, I leaned over the bed to ask.
And promptly fell out.
“Holy shit !” I screeched, simultaneously slamming into the floor. That got Alexa up quick. A moment later, she was at my side, staring at me with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?!”
“What happened to your hair?!” I reached out to touch it. What yesterday had been sleek black was now electric blue. It felt the same, at least. I guess she hadn’t scorched it with bleach, then.
“Mine? What about you?!” We stared at each other for a moment before sprinting for the bathroom, socked feet slipping on the kitchen floor on our way. For a moment, we just held our breath, the dark room holding a thousand concerns. Then, Alexa flicked the light.
What.
The.
Hell .
For the most part, nothing had changed. My skin was still pale, my eyes still dark, the bags not as prominent as usual and cheeks a bit flushed from the run, but for the most part, it was fine.
What was not fine was my hair, because last I had checked, it was black just like my sister’s.
When I had fallen asleep, as far as I knew, I still had straight, black hair.
Except now, it was bright, bright purple.