Lemons

Amygdala Circuit

If there was one word that could be used to describe Quinn's response to Roaki's condition, it would be outrage. She bolted upright, grabbing at the narrow bars, and the words forced their way out of her before she could stop them. "What the fuck? How could they treat you like this?!"

She hadn't expected Roaki to be treated particularly well, all things considered. But she'd expected better than this! How could the Board justify it? Fury surged through her, burning hot and white in her veins. Someone needed to put the fuckers in their places, and fast. This was unacceptable, and everything she was rebelled against it on a visceral level.

She instantly dropped a hand to her pocket, tore her cell phone out, and called Dahlia, eye straying back to the horrible, pitiful image in the cell as she did. As soon as she picked up, Quinn hissed through the microphone, "You and Besca. Down here. Right. Now. You need to see this." She hung up immediately afterwards, leaving no room for response, and fought very, very hard not to spike her phone into the floor or smash it against one of the bleak concrete walls. Her voice as she spoke again was tight, tense, horrified.

"I was going to come down and talk because I thought you'd like the company, even if you were just going to threaten to kill me, and I wanted to give you a piece of cake. But this..." Her whole body was seething with anger, and she made a strangled sound deep in her throat, halfway between nausea and blinding fury.

With one hand still entangled in the bars, her other fist bunched tight at her side. It was cold down here for her already. She couldn't imagine spending more than an hour down here, let alone two days. All alone too, with only a thin blanket on a steel slab sticking out of the wall. "...This is horrible." It's disgusting, she went on in her head. How could they?

She grit her teeth, hand clenching around the bar so tight it creaked. As unpleasant as Roaki had been at the Henkersmahl, she didn't deserve this. Quinn wouldn't wish this on anybody. "I'm getting you out of here, Roaki."

She didn't know exactly what she would do yet. But she was doing something. She would openly defy the Board if she needed to. If they did this to someone, anyone, they didn't deserve to have power. "I know you hate me. But I'm getting you out tonight. And that's a fucking promise."

Amygdala Circuit

"Don't worry too much. I think I'll be okay. But I'll call you if I need to for sure." She pulled out her phone and waved it a little, showing off that she had it on her.

Time passed, and they kept up their celebratory night, though Quinn was markedly less...effervescent. Her smile wasn't as pronounced, she was clearly worried about something. But even so, she was smiling.

Before too long, though, they'd made their way through most of the cake. Quinn wanted to go to bed, but she was antsy, and she needed to do what she felt was right. So she stood from the table, walked around, and hugged both of them tight. "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

Then she cracked the fridge open and slid out the cake, placing a fork with it on the plate and carrying it like a baby animal. Then she headed to the door, waved one more time, and headed out again.

Aerie station had a different feeling in the evening for sure. Most people were off work by now, and the sunset was so pretty that a whole gaggle was gathered in the observatory, and a bunch more milled around in the plaza, relaxing, laughing, drinking. Just like before, things quieted a bit as she passed and people watched her go by. She hoped it wouldn't last too long, it was starting to feel a little weird.

She'd never been to the holding cells, but she knew where they were. The narrow and spiderwebbing corridors on the lowest floor of the station led her down into the guts of the place. There were very few people here, and everything echoed as she walked along the metal and concrete. Before much longer, she came to a heavy steel door with two guards standing in front of it.

They looked at her quizzically as she approached, at the slice of cake she was carrying, and frowned. "You shouldn't—"

Her voice was a little sharper than she intended as she interrupted, "Let me in. Now." As an afterthought, she added, "Please?"

The guards shared a glance, looked back at her again. A heavy sigh bounced about the hall. "Alright. Don't stay too long."

She nodded at them, then opened the heavy door. It wasn't too dissimilar to the door of a skullport, really. She hesitated for a moment, turned, then slid the door closed behind her, leaving it just the littlest bit open. Hopefully they wouldn't close it.

They did, and she jumped a little as it slammed. It was still so quiet as she passed by rows of darkened cells, doors opened, turned into storage. The one at the very end had a light on, and she could faintly hear breathing. She stopped, the tap-tap-tapping of her footsteps cutting off. She closed her eye, breathed deep. One. Two. Three. Roaki was not going to be happy to see her. Absolutely not. But...she was here anyway.

She walked the last few feet, then turned to the barren cell, sat down in front of it, and placed the cake delicately next to her before looking forwards.

"Hi, Roaki."

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn shook her head, and the smile was replaced with a look of concern, and at the same time, one of determination (though the smile did still linger around the edges of her mouth). "No. I'm gonna go tonight. If she's asleep when I get there I'll leave and go back tomorrow, but..."

She paused for just a moment, then sighed almost mournfully. "I feel like people aren't talking to her, and I think that's sad. She deserves company like everyone else."

She cast a glance at the fridge, imagining the slice of cake within. "I know she won't be happy to see me, but...I at least want to give her the cake. She's alive just like us, so she's earned it, right?" Then she looked down, fiddling with her hair as she slowly continued. "But she's not okay. Not, like, her body, though, I mean. She's...someone hurt her."

And then there was the guilt.

She knew on a logical level that she shouldn't feel sorry for hurting Roaki. What else was she supposed to do then? It was the best case scenario for everyone, so if anything she should feel proud of herself for managing to only hurt Roaki and to not kill her.

But it wasn't a logical thing, what she was feeling. It was a bone deep regret and, yes, guilt. And though it wasn't as monstrous as the ocean that still reached out tendrils (ineffectual, at least at that moment) to her legs, it still hurt. There had to have been a less hurtful way to do what she did. A way that had made Roaki less vulnerable. She'd thought about it a lot during her stay in medical and hadn't come up with anything else that would've stopped her and hurt her less.

But there had to be something, right?

"And...I want to apologize for hurting her too. I feel awful."

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn sat back, licked some icing off her fingertips, and looked down at her handiwork as the cake was cut. All three of them together. It was like a dream come true. She read back the message, still displayed in full view as the slice with her on it was deposited gently in front of her with the clinking of a plate: EVERYONE really was ALIVE!!!!!

Then, looking at the little bit of blank space that was left underneath the words—she'd been a little lopsided with where she'd drawn them all—she jumped a little bit.

Everyone was alive. EVERYONE!

And so before she took a bite, she picked up the icing tube again. The light gray this time, so it would show up against the white. Biting her tongue and sticking just the tip out of her mouth in concentration, she carefully, carefully squeezed it out into one more figure of a person, right next to where hers had been. It took her a little while; she obviously wasn't very good at this, and so it was inevitably a little lopsided, just like Quinn herself was. But it was still clearly recognizable as she put the tube aside and regarded the image proudly.

Then she cut the slice off—just a touch bigger than the one she had—scooped it onto a plate, and slotted it into the fridge with a great deal of care. It wouldn't do for it to get all messed up by bumping into anything else, right?

After making sure it would be safe, she walked back and sat down again, looking at the two of them in turn. "I'm bringing it when I go see her later tonight!"

With all that said and done, she finally picked up her fork and took a small bite of her own, careful to get some icing in. And her eye shot open. Another bite, then another and another. God, it was so good! It was sweet, and spongy, and the vanilla was like nothing she'd ever tasted before!

"Deelie," she was almost vibrating with excitement, "You've gotta teach me how to make these. It's so so so good!"

The guilt crept closer, and the smile started to dim ever so slightly. But she'd survived. And everyone had survived! She deserved one night with her family, didn't she? Just one night?

The smile brightened again. Yeah. One night was fine.

Amygdala Circuit

Still choking back giggles, Quinn hopped up. She suddenly felt like she had more energy than she'd had in...in she didn't know how long, really. Like she was supercharged. Whipping the braid back behind her, she walked—nearly pranced, even—over the the table, sitting down next to Dahlia and plopping her braid down into her sister's lap in turn.

She felt like she was walking on sunshine, like everything was a billion miles away. Or, not everything, just all the bad. Not like the dreams where she felt all disconnected, but like the bad stuff was shunted to the back of her mind because there were too many good things filling the rest of it to the brim.

She tasted a bite of stew, winced a little as she burned her tongue—her hair flopped back down next to her—then blew on it a bit and slurped it up, even though it was still pretty hot for her sensitive mouth. She closed her eye rapturously. "If I could only eat one thing for the rest of forever it would be this, Deelie. It's so good!" As she spoke, she made sure to turn towards Dahlia, opening her eye and searching for an opening.

Then, just as Dahlia swallowed and lowered the spoon back down into the bowl, Quinn lunged forward and caught her in a tight hug, squeezing her not too hard—mindful that she did still have ribs that had just been reapplied—but hard enough to really show that she cared. She only pulled back after...what, ten seconds? More?

There was still a bit of a smile hanging on her face as she returned to her food, looking back at Dahlia as she did. "That's one!"

Amygdala Circuit

Dahlia always knew how to make Quinn feel better. Her trepidation at the the oddness of it all, people listening to her without her being there, faded away. Dahlia had dealt with this for years. If she ever had a hard time, she could just ask her sister, right? And it was nice to know that having communications leaked wasn't a new thing, wasn't strange. She'd had enough of 'strange' for a little while.

And as Dahlia discussed her first leak, Quinn felt an unfamiliar sensation welling up within her, starting in her stomach and spreading upward like bubbles. Something she'd felt before, but not for a long time. For a moment she didn't really understand what it was, and it dimmed within her. But it came back once Dahlia finished speaking, rushing up like soda poured too quickly and overflowing before she could even hope to check it.

And Quinn burst out laughing.

Not the weak chuckle she'd given two weeks ago, when Dahlia had knocked her on her ass just by stepping back when they were sparring, and certainly not the death's-head laugh from the war room a week ago. No, this was a full-throated laugh born from genuine happiness and the release of a terrible tension, and it filled the room suddenly and unexpectedly.

She slapped her hand over her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop the giggles that leaked out from between her fingers even still. If there was one word to describe her expression, it was taken aback. But in a good way. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. And though the guilt bit at her heels still and a part of her knew that it always would, her sister didn't hate her, was there, and always would be. So Quinn was...

Happy.

She was really, really happy.

Amygdala Circuit

At long last, Quinn arrived at the door to the pilot's quarters. From inside, she could hear music of a kind she'd never heard before, and a faint shuffling sound. Besca was still attending to everything Quinn's duel had wrought, she was pretty sure, so it could only be Dahlia.

She'd spent the past few hours just walking around the Aerie, talking to the people that she knew and being gawked at by the people she didn't. It wasn't long after she'd left Tohoki Grill that she'd heard a voice that sounded familiar, then realized it was hers. Following the noise, she'd arrived at a pair of...engineers? She thought? She didn't know them...looking down at a phone held between them. Her eye had widened as she'd heard what the digital image of her was saying.

So, that had been an interesting experience. She didn't know whether it was uncomfortable or amazing that she was suddenly being listened to by people on their phones on the Aerie. Maybe a little of both, she conceded, as she pulled open the door.

It was almost disorienting being back in the dorms. That feeling of un-reality from earlier came back again, though she managed to squash it down this time. Being excited to come home was still a new thing for her.

And there was Dahlia. She was rummaging around in the kitchen, putting together something for dinner. Whatever it was, it smelled absolutely fantastic. Though she wasn't a professional chef by any stretch of the imagination, Quinn found a special kind of comfort in the simpler meals that Dahlia cooked for her and Besca.

The TV was the source of the mystery music, and she found herself nodding along as she trotted over to her favorite chair, a huge blue affair that nearly swallowed her whenever she sat in it. She lay back, almost melting into the fabric, then turned her head laconically towards her sister as she bustled about. Her stomach growled at the aromas wafting out of the kitchen. Walking around built up an appetite surprisingly quickly.

"Some people were listening to the communications from the end of the duel," she said, in some bizarre amalgamation of fear and amusement. "Did I really sound like that?"

Amygdala Circuit

"Go on, get out of here. Go relax, go hang out in the observatory. Go be happy. I’ll see you guys tonight."

Quinn hesitated. She was happy here. But...she had been in medical for a couple days, and she was ready to go. So she slid away and out of the bed, headed to the door. Then, as she was reaching her hand out, she half-turned, looking over her shoulder. "Three hugs."

Then she gave Dahlia a soft smile. It felt strange on her face. But it felt good too, and it seemed like the right thing to do.

She was very used to navigating through medical by this point. Orderlies and nurses waved as they passed, giving her bright smiles. She blinked. She was a bit of a semi-regular resident of rooms in medical by this point, but that had never happened before. This was weird.

She didn't quite put it together until she walked out into the central plaza, basking underneath the parasol of pastel leaves. It was like greeting an old friend. And she was suddenly surrounded by excited whispers. She looked around. People pointed to friends as she passed. Congratulation were called to her as she walked to the elevator. And everyone was smiling.

It hadn't really hit her until that point, but she was...a real pilot now, wasn't she? A duel. A singularity. Both back to back.

There were few people in the elevator. She supposed that made sense; it was after lunch rush, most people on the station were working. What time was it? She slipped her phone out of her pants pocket. A little past two, it looked like. She didn't even look as she pressed the button for the second floor of the plaza. She knew exactly where she was headed, and she let the tsubaki trees guide her like a beacon.

Tohoki Grill was just like she remembered it (she didn't really know what she'd expected). The lighting, the false daylight, the amazing smell. People parted around her. Everyone...kinda loved her, didn't they? It was nice, all the crowds of people that seemed to her to follow in her wake. It reminded her of—

Her mood dimmed. But it couldn't be totally repressed. She'd...she'd really done it.

The head chef was talking to a customer. As she walked in, though, he excused himself, then gave her that huge smile and nearly jogged over to her, guiding her to the seat where she always sat when she ate here alone. She let him, gladly, then turned to him, face the absolute picture of sincerity.

"I bet it was the salmon. Can I have it again?"

She did. The yuzu soda too.

It was just as good the second time.

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn closed her eye lightly.

You never did anything wrong. And she guessed that she hadn't done anything wrong. Or. Well. The only thing she'd done wrong was be. They still came to Hovvi because of her. it still lay at her feet. But at least Dahlia and Besca wouldn't ever leave her behind. She'd been silly to think otherwise.

"You and Besca," she murmured. "I must be the luckiest girl in the whole world."

She remembered she couldn't hug Dahlia this time (she still counted it on the tally, though). So instead she stretched out beside her, taking her hand gently, running her fingers along the unfamiliar metal contours.

"I'm sorry for making you go in there. I promise if I could've, then I would have gone myself." Her words died away before any more reached her throat. It just seemed so blasé, whatever she was saying, whatever she was thinking of saying; incapable of trying to communicate what she was trying to say.

So she leaned in, resting her head very lightly against Dahlia's, and hummed, "I love you, sis. You know that, right?"

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn was almost knocked over by the sheer level of anger pouring out of Dahlia's face and the venom in her voice. There was a heart-attack second where she was absolutely certain that Dahlia was going to yell at her, she didn't know why. But it passed in a blink, and then the rage was less scalding, and more warming. Like a warm blanket on a cold night, Dahlia's anger scooped her up and held her close. She reached out as though to hug her sister, but remembered at the last moment that she had three ribs that needed to set.

So instead she sat back down again, staring into Dahlia's furious eyes. "It's really that bad, huh," she murmured to herself before directing her attention back to Dahlia proper.

"I know," she said quietly. "I trust you."

A pause. A moment. The drawing of a breath, a tiny hesitation to gauge whether or not something was okay to say. Then, "...and she trusts you too."

Picking up the eyepatch from her lap, she steadied her shaking hands enough to replace it, letting out a relieved sigh when she smoothed it back down over the scarred growth. Then, sitting there in silence, she felt the impulse to embrace Dahlia again. And again, she had to resist. This was going to happen a lot, wasn't it?

"I'm going to keep a tally of all the times I can't hug you," she joked, forcing humor into her voice though her expression remained unchanged, "and repay it with interest once you're better."