Chapter Text
A moment to breathe. That's all she needed, all she had yearned for since this whole thing started. Serana thought that going back into 1999 would be the escape she'd been looking for from all the heartbreak. She thought it would have been a challenge, putting one foot in front of the other to put some distance between her and Teshin.
How wrong she'd been. Of course it had been easy: there was another "project" to solve, another dire situation only she could put back together. With her thoughts drowned in fixing these people, the thought of Teshin hadn't crossed her mind.
She leaned back against the far wall and watched as Lettie worked on the radiation burns covering Arthur's face and neck. Damp hair stuck to his forehead as a sick groan continued to echo out of his chest. A much better sound than the gurgling of his lungs melting in his ribcage.
She'd really made a difference, hadn't she? Getting them to care about each other. Caring about them in return. Giving them the healing words that no one had ever given her. Saving them when no one had come to save her. Left her to the dark and the Void and the loneliness. Leaving her to the self-sabotaging fantasy of Duviri with no means of escape. Leaving her to devour herself raw, both physically and emotionally.
She'd felt that hopelessness when she was inside Arthur's head that first time. His need to withdraw, to bolt at the first sign of any closeness. It was why he'd been so reserved during their conversations. Constantly feeling like a failure. Losing those closest to him. It was no wonder he pushed everyone away.
That feeling had triggered those past memories, had reminded her of everything she'd been trying to put behind her. On feeling that desperation, she wanted to crawl inside herself and never come out again. The paranoia. The isolation. The mistrust. The pure apathy. How had she let herself live like this for so long?
And then he'd let her in. Just for a little while, but it had been enough to save him. To remind him that he wasn't alone in all of this, despite how much he wanted to be. He just had to drop his walls for a few seconds of walking.
The others crowded around him, muttering his name to get Arthur to open his eyes. The cool concrete against her shaved scalp soothed her fevered skin and tamped down the panic that had once overwhelmed her, questioning whether she could really pull this off. It was all gone now. She had saved their future.
For once, she felt like she mattered.
She closed her eyes for a brief second to breathe in her success, listening to the feet shuffling around her. A few heavy hands patted her shoulder and ruffled the short buzzcut she'd given herself, heard whispers of congratulations in her ear.
When was the last time she'd felt such praise? When was the last time she could feel good about herself? She had once. Saving Teshin's life. Giving up her "throne" to breathe life back into his body. And look where that got her. Heartbreak, empty hands, and a fucked-up head thanks to that Orokin woman.
"Thanks back there," the Caribbean-laden accent drawled quietly in her right ear. "Didn't think that kind of thing was possible."
She cracked one eye open and discovered Quincy sitting beside her, his honey-brown eyes alight with amusement. Instead of the lines of tension in his face, his expression was relaxed. At ease. Here was a guy who looked like he'd finally won something. And she had given that to him.
"Look at you smiling," she remarked, finally exhaling all of the stress she'd been holding in. "I thought Arthur was the only one allergic."
Q kissed his teeth at her teasing.
"Plenty o'tings you don't know 'bout me." The scar over his eye wrinkled with a wink before he returned his attention to the others. Or at least pretended to.
Arthur was finally up on his feet. Aoi threw her arms around his neck, her entire body visibly shaking. Possibly crying? Amir disappeared for a brief second and reappeared with a box of tissues he'd nabbed from somewhere. Serana wasn't about to ask.
"I'd beg to differ. I was in your head, remember?" She'd remembered the thoughts of his mother, his grandmother, the little family they'd had together, looking out for and caring for one another. The dream he'd built for himself and all of them so that they could find their own happiness. It was the one mind Serana had found herself lingering in a little longer than the others. That warm cocoon of love and adoration... What she wouldn't do to feel that again.
She wondered if it would hurt to ask. She also wondered if he would even say yes.
He gave her something of a playful scowl, his lips parting to hurl a jab in her direction, when...
Happy New Year.
She blinked and found herself in the mall once more, standing on the upper floor and watching the drone lazily trail around the food court, sucking up dirt and debris in its path. The sudden jolt was arresting, leaving her breathless and confused. She'd been dwelling in her victory, drinking it up like a parched lizard in the middle of the desert.
Now, there was none of that left. Instead of the cool caress of night, the noon sun shone brightly overhead. There was still snow on the ground, the air still chill. Had she blacked out from all the stress and woken up here?
What the fuck is going on?
"Hey! Marty!"
Amir appeared in a streaky blur on the floor below, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he had somewhere else to be. He startled when the little drone bumped into his ankle.
"Thanks for this!" He raised his fist, and the Parazon popped out of his forearm, gleaming in the morning light. "This is gonna save me so much time getting those high scores!"
What?
To his left, Serana heard the scraping of metal against the tiled floor, watched the many fallen shelves be uprighted and reorganized into neat rows. Aoi shifted them around with the grace of a conductor, the shelves her instruments, her powers the music. She'd gotten a lot better at putting her magnetism to good use.
“Hey! Is anyone going to get me those medical supplies I asked for?” Letitia barked over the edge of the balcony, just to Serana's left, and still looking just as ornery as ever.
“On it!” Amir gave her a two-fingered salute before he disappeared. Random garbage and paper kicked up in his wake, along with a thick cloud of dust.
"Lettie... what's the date? What year is it?"
"What kind of weird question is that?"
Serana shot her a glare that made even the stalwart medic freeze.
"It's January 5th. 1999."
Still. The new year had been rung in. Shouldn't it be...?
Serana dragged a hand down her face. None of this was making any sense. Why was time restarting if she'd fixed everything? The Hex should be living out the rest of their lives, actually moving forward instead of being stuck in this one time period. They should be living, not preserved in this one section of time like a mosquito trapped in amber. So why...?
Serana Void-slung herself towards the clothing store where the Backroom remained, huddling in one dark corner to catch her breath. This no longer felt like a victory. It felt like another fucking purgatory. All of those old feelings started to close in on her again, bathing her skin with an ugly, invisible ichor that reminded her that she could never escape. She would never be free. She was so thoroughly tangled in the webs of someone else's making that she had no idea how to free herself. Or if anyone would come by to free her.
"Drifter...?" Arthur's voice echoed dully off the empty mannequins. "Drifter, are you in here?" He already knew, of course—Eleanor had told him as much—but he didn't want to employ his own sister in telepathic warfare in a situation that didn't call for it. That would be going a little too far.
"Leave me alone, Arthur," she mumbled from behind a clothing rack. A bad move, since now he knew exactly where she was. Anger rumbled beneath her skin as she heard him draw closer, footsteps padding softly on the worn carpet.
Arthur shifted to one knee, his hand hovering over her shoulder. "I just wanted to come by and say thank you."
Thank you? For making their lives as miserable as hers had been? How was that a gift?
"For what, Arthur? So what if I gave you a whole year this time? Now you're all trapped like I was. Now, you get to keep going through the same shit over and over again until it drives you insane. That's not something you should be thanking me for." Her facade fell, her anger quickly taking over. Serana's fingers dug into her palm, splitting open the once-healed skin and soaking the cloth around her hand once more. The pain gave her something to focus on, to stop herself from screaming.
"A whole year is better than 24 hours, if you ask me." He'd never seen her so panicked before. She'd been the steady rock they'd all leaned on during that moment of crisis to keep them on their feet. Now she was crumbling, and Arthur had no idea what he could do to help.
"To do what? Count down the days until you have to head to that place again? So I can watch you all struggle to make things right, for nothing? Just like I did? Like I have been doing?"
His heavy hand finally rested on her shoulder, but Serana quickly slapped it away. Comfort—or pity—was the last thing she wanted. She'd given Entrati exactly what he'd told her to do, to form bonds between them all, and for what?
"You deserve better than this. None of you deserves to live in this hell. I thought I was fixing things, but all I did was slap a bandaid on a gaping wound and called it a day."
"Would you give yourself some damn credit?" Arthur growled. Why was she shooting herself in the foot when she should be proud of what she'd accomplished? "We're not dead, are we? You made us better. You showed us what we could be, what we could really do. And you think we shouldn't be grateful for that?"
"I wouldn't be."
"Yeah, well, we're not you. Look, I'm sorry that all of that stuff in Duviri made you jaded and all, but I, for one, am thankful that you were here to help save us. So if you don't want my gratitude, that's fine. No one's forcing you to take it." He knew he was feeding off her anger and throwing it back in her face, but he couldn't understand why she was raining on their parade. He thought she'd be happy about this.
«That's a little much, don't you think?»
"..."
«Fine. Have it your way.»
"You know where to find me when you stop stewing in your own misery." Arthur got to his feet and left. Not exactly the behaviour of a leader, but for today, he would give himself a pass.
«He didn't mean that, Drifter.»
"Go away, Eleanor." Serana pulled herself upright, dragging a fist across her damp cheek.
«Like curdled milk, the two of you.»
Serana Void-slung herself out of the skylight and onto the roof to get some fresh air, grimacing at the winter wind against her skin. The bright daylight felt mocking, as if the sun itself was laughing down at her misery.
She wanted to get as far away from here as possible, but she was still unfamiliar with the city, not having had the time to take a tour. A random direction would have to do for the time being. She went as far as she thought she was able until she ended up on a barren rooftop covered in small white chimneys. Once-red tiles were now stained white from dried bird shit, marring and marbling the surface.
Part of her was tempted to throw herself to the Scaldra and let their Efervon strip the skin from her body. What was to stop her if she was just going to wake up in the new year as if nothing had happened? What was to stop her from falling into the same ennui from her Duviri days? Feeling nothing, caring about nothing, waiting for the inevitable blade to slice her head from her shoulders.
The thought of once again being in her nightmare shook her to her core, threatening to throw her from the roof and wait for the inevitable crunch of her body against concrete. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? Feeling something different for a change. Screw beheading; the sensation of every bone in her body being shattered into hundreds of pieces would certainly put a new spin on things.
No... she should have put a bullet in Entrati's head this time. Make him know what it feels like to have a fresh exit wound again and again and again. Make him know what it feels like to be treated like a pawn in someone else's game.
"That motherfucker. Why the fuck can’t he do this shit himself?!" A brick tile splintered with a bright sound at the firing of her Sirocco. She could still feel the bullet he'd put through her, that look on his face as he'd killed her and forced her to figure this all out for herself.
"You pissed at Doc Friday too, huh?" A voice echoed off the nearby buildings, lilted with that thick accent that sounded like music to her ears. "Wanna start a little club?"
Serana turned and pointed her Sirocco right at Quincy, perched one building over and with his scope to his eye. He cracked a grin and gave her a little wave.
Serana returned a middle finger before she was gone again. She wanted to stew in her misery, to burn herself inside out with her agony before returning to the mall and pretending as if everything was okay. Plus, what did he care anyway? This was all a game to him, another moment of folly to help him pass the time. He was probably digging up something to use against her later.
Quincy watched her go with rapt interest, marveling at the dull green energy that trailed behind her with each Void jump she made. She could fly. Yet, she'd chosen to stay. She'd chosen to let them remember.
He cursed under his breath. Another debt he had to repay added to his list. And boy, was he going to make her regret it.
