fractured
fandom: prose; light 'em up
characters: ely, ariana, bonnie, yana
pairings: diego x ely, ariana x bonnie
wordcount: 296O
ficathon: it's never the end - prompt von tears_into_wine
notes: this scene takes place pretty far into the canon story and contains a spoiler, as well as mentions of torture
hold on to what we've got
and i'll bleed to make it last
"Ely, stop."
He can almost taste the tension in her words, meaningful weight dragging them down through the air and steadily towards the dusty ground, betraying Ariana's calm façade.
Ely doesn't even acknowledge her. Another choked-off scream echoes through the hallway and he yanks at his chains again, furiously, almost too hard. Metal scrapes against stone. Compared to the screams, it's a welcome sound.
"You'll break your wrists," Ariana continues.
Ely whips his head around to glare at her and strains his arms again - driven more by his own anger than the need to defy her. "I know that," he bites out. "but they're breaking more than his fucking wrists, aren't they?"
Her grey eyes narrow and when Ely's gaze flicks to her arms which are wrapped around the column at her back, wrists bound with metal chains leading up to the ceiling, just like his own, he can see the muscles in her upper arms tremble with tension. He doubts they'll ever be friends, but down here they have the same goal, their determination fueled by a single reason.
Ely looks back at her and Ariana nods once, barely noticeable, lips pressed into a tight line while Ely bites his teeth so hard he thinks they might crack under the pressure.
It's awfully quiet for a moment and Ely has to remind himself how to breathe, tries to reteach his lungs how to do their damn job while he sits in silence, bound and useless. As long as Diego screams, at least he knows he's still alive. The one thing pulling Ely apart at the seams is, right now, also the one thing keeping him sane.
They're running out of time. He has to do something, anything.
It feels like ages since Diego spat insults at their captors and fought harder than anyone else to make sure he would be the one to be taken away first - Ely hates him for it, and hates himself even more for only recognizing Diego's intentions when it was already too late. Now the fear is swallowing him whole.
He doesn't know how long he'll be able to keep up his angry front. He's pretty sure Ariana is looking right through it.
Just as he thinks he's going to lose it entirely, another pained sound carries through the hall, softer this time, and a quiet, shaky voice says, "They won't stop."
Ely turns to his right, heart beating in his throat, and looks at Yana's pale, tear-streaked face.
"If they want info -" he begins, but she cuts him off.
"They don't." She's still crying. Ely doesn't think she stopped ever since Sanai pointed a gun at Ariana's head. "She doesn't care about S.A.I.D., not at all. She just wants anyone out of the way who would ... who would be a real problem for her. A-And ..."
"That's us," Ariana finishes simply. "We're their best team. We're the ones giving Sanai reason to be afraid."
Ely shakes his head, slowly at first and then faster, desperation oozing into the carefully controlled lines of his face like poison. "No," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut against the truth. Someone whimpers at the far end of the room, and he distinctly thinks it must be Bonnie. If they don't care about getting any info out of Diego ...
"No," he repeats, louder this time, and he can feel himself break.
"Ely, stay calm, we have to think."
He can't think. He can't even open his eyes when Diego screams again and doesn't stop for several seconds, terribly near and still too far away. Ely thinks he can hear how Diego's voice cracks, and he snaps.
"Stop!" he yells and yanks on his chains again, warm blood trickling down his arms where the skin is raw and ripped from his useless attempts.
"Ely -"
"Let him go," he screams, letting all the fear and fury and terrifying love bleed into his voice until it fills the stone walls and echoes around them, drowning out Diego's sounds. "Leave him alone you sick bastards," Ely begs, eyes burning, and when he opens them, he can feel the tears spill. He's sobbing when he continues, yelling brokenly at the walls: "Take me instead!"
He has never lost control like that before and it scares him almost as much as the thought of Diego being tortured, leaves him gasping for breath and turns his struggles into frantic movements. "Come on," he screams, and this time he feels something crack in his left hand when he pulls at the chains again.
Distinctly, Ely knows he should be able to feel the broken bone. It's supposed to hurt. It's supposed to be a new injury to add to a list he long gave up on counting but always remained aware of.
But he doesn't feel anything. He considers pulling again, maybe -
"Ely." This time, the way Ariana says his name is firm enough to make him look at her and stop his movements for a second. The expression on her face is one he's never seen before: Her eyes are wide and reflect the sparse ceiling light more than they did a few moments ago. She stares at him with a strange mixture of shock and respect, he thinks, trying to make sense of the fragile emotions flickering across her features. "If you move your hands too much, the chains will pull tight again," Ariana tells him calmly; almost gently. "I can't see from here, but if you broke your thumb, you might get your hand out."
"I-I don't know," Ely says, sounding hoarse from his outburst. Numbness is spreading through him like a virus attacking his system, making it hard to think and concentrate on his body. All he sees is Diego, bleeding out, screaming, dying, and he feels like an overwhelmed teenager again: Fighting, but never enough to save anyone but himself.
"Breathe," someone behind him says, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Listen to her, okay? If you get free, we have ... we have a chance to get him out."
Bonnie, Ely thinks. The fiery one, who never hesitated to talk back to him, and had her words taken away along with Diego. She's talking again. Daring to hope.
He's still looking at Ariana, deafening silence stretching between them, when she nods.
"She's right. Move your fingers, carefully. Don't pull at the chains. You have to find out which one is broken."
Ariana doesn't question his pathetic inability to tell right away. Instead, her rational approach counterbalances Ely's panic and allows him a deep, shuddering breath before complying.
"Okay," he whispers, determination slowly replacing numbness, and he closes his eyes, moves his fingers. He knows it was the left hand. He knows they don't have much time left, judging by Diego's silence. Metal scrapes against stone once more when he shifts slightly, lessening the pressure. His wrist is intact, and a majority of fingers as well, but when he finally tries to move his thumb, his nerve endings protest violently and a steadily reoccurring wave of pain crashes through his brain cells.
Ely opens his eyes and looks at Ariana again. She hasn't moved an inch.
"It's the thumb," he says and she almost, but not quite, sags with relief.
"Lift your hands up as far as you can," Ariana instructs. "The chains lead upwards. If they don't strain anymore, you should be able to pull your left hand out, but keep the right one up as high as you can."
Ely takes a second to process her words and nods quietly, his mouth set into a firm line. Trying his hardest not to think about the sudden absence of Diego's screams, he starts lifting his arms up along the column. Immediately, his shoulders start aching and Ely bends his upper body forward to allow himself more room. He has to do this right.
The skin on his cheeks feels uncomfortably tight as tears start to dry, but it's nothing compared to his increasingly protesting shoulders. A joint in his upper arm pops and it sounds like a gun shot in the silence.
"Ariana -" Bonnie starts, her chains rustling softly as she moves.
"Further," Ariana says without letting Bonnie continue. Ely grinds his teeth and nods again.
Keeping up the upwards-movement of his arms feels like he's going to rip them out, straight from his back, but Ely doesn't care. They have no idea when Sanai is going to send someone for them, when the next one is going to be taken after they deem Diego useless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ely sees Ariana strain her neck as she tries to catch a glimpse of the chain dangling behind his column. "A little higher," she says, and Ely wants to laugh because at this point he's sure his arms won't survive any further.
"I ... can't," he grinds out reluctantly, hissing out a breath.
He feels bent in half already, using all of his strength to remain in his current position.
"Trust me," Ariana says.
Caught by surprise, Ely turns his head towards her, grimacing at his aching shoulders. She would never resolve to begging, he's sure of that after encountering her will power on multiple occasions. Getting under Ariana's skin works about as well as trying to crack a diamond with your bare hands, and yet ... right now she's looking at him like she might be willing to let him see beneath the hard surface. Like she's not quite pleading, but urging him to see her as an ally despite his general distrust of literally everyone, and especially someone potentially more skilled than himself.
"Ely, trust me," she repeats. "Keep moving."
He doesn't have much of a choice. And even if he did ... he probably would have listened for once.
Ely suppresses a groan and raises his arms until the fire in his muscles consumes his senses completely and this time he knows he can't get any further without -
"Don't scream," Ariana says, and either Bonnie or Yana draws in a sharp breath just as Ely realizes what's going on. Pulling his left hand free will only work if his right one keeps the chain up high enough while he moves. He has to be fast. It's a matter of seconds, and his current position still isn't good enough.
Ely nods slowly at Ariana in understanding and braces himself. Vigorously willing himself not to make a sound, he stretches his fingers against each other to make his left hand as small as possible and wriggles them down while yanking his right arm up with all the strength he can summon. A strangled gasp grazes Ely's conscience as his shoulder dislocates with a sickening crack. His left hand slips free and he slumps back against the column, belatedly realizing the gasp must have been his own. His vision whites out for a few seconds. He bites his tongue to keep quiet and tastes copper.
Get over it, he thinks heatedly, breathing through the pain, He needs you.
He lifts his head from where he'd let it sink to his chest and directs his gaze back at Ariana, waits for her to tell him what to do because no matter how much he hates to admit it, Ely is overwhelmed and too out of it to act sensibly on his own right now.
"Okay, good," Ariana says, either knowing what he needs to hear or something like genuine praise in her voice, Ely can't really tell. "Try to stand up and get your other arm free."
"His legs," Yana pipes up from Ely's other side while he considers Ariana's words with creeping doubt. Yana somehow manages to sound shaken up and firm at the same time. "How are we gonna get those free?"
Following her train of thought, Ely glances down at the cuffs on his ankles that leave no space for him to move his feet apart more than an inch. He could stand, but he'd still be useless in a serious fight.
Ely lifts his head towards Ariana and is surprised to find a grim smile on her lips.
"Don't worry, I got this," she says and pulls her equally bound legs up to her chest, bending forward until her arms strain and her head touches her knees. Ely frowns, shifting slightly to try and lessen the searing burn in his shoulder, but then he sees Ariana's short, calculated moves: She's dragging the side of her head against the rough fabric of her trousers, making a tangled mess of her dark hair until, finally, a small hair pin falls to the ground next to her legs.
"What happened, what did you do?" Bonnie asks, her view blocked by Yana and Ely who are sitting between her and Ariana.
Ely feels his mouth twitch into a triumphant grin and Yana, disbelief and wonder clear in her voice, says, "Ariana's perfectly styled hair might have just saved us."
A shocked laugh bubbles out of Bonnie at that, followed by something that sounds like a sniffle. "We're gonna get him out, right?" she asks, very softly.
Ely, who's already pushing up on his feet, is surprised to hear Ariana answer, and nothing short of stunned when she says, "Of course, babe, we'll get him back. We'll be okay."
Her expression shifts into something soft and strange and reassuring as she leans forward as far as she can, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of Bonnie. Only as she realizes Ely stopped moving, she looks back to him and those grey eyes are razor-sharp as ever, narrowed as if daring him to comment on the short exchange. Ely wouldn't dream about it and hurries to continue his efforts instead, leaning his weight back against the column and pushing himself up until he's standing and panting from the pain in his shoulder.
He doesn't even want to think about moving his right arm, isn't sure if he could. But he's looking at Ariana and sees her push the hair pin towards him with her feet.
"C'mon," she urges, not cold but not gentle either. Ely thinks you must be pretty special for Ariana to be gentle with you. And as it seems, someone that special is sitting two columns from him right now.
The worst thing is: Ely relates a lot.
For the span of a dozen thundering heartbeats, quiet creeps into the empty spaces between him and Diego’s girls, disrupted only by their even breaths, and Ely thinks maybe he was wrong to think of them as Diego’s girls ever since their existence became more than a mere fact in the back of his mind - maybe he’s got it all twisted up and there is nothing like a hierarchy in ICARUS, but a solid foundation instead, held up in equal parts by all of them.
Ely tries to even out his breaths and match the unsteady rhythm with the calmer ones of Ariana, Bonnie, Yana. He used to pride himself on his unwavering fearlessness, but now Ely realizes how little he knew about bravery until he met these girls.
He can’t let them down. He can’t let Diego die.
“Okay,” Ely whispers, more to himself than anyone else, and starts moving.
His shoulder screams in burning agony and staying quiet through it is almost impossible, but he doesn’t give up. Ely reaches up with his free hand and blindly searches until his fingers meet metal.
When he shoves and hooks his pointer and middle finger in-between his still captured wrist and the several layers of chain links twining around it, he knows he has won and grins against his body’s subtle demand to pass out.
“Hurry up,” Yana breathes somewhere at his side and Ely’s grin broadens because she makes it sound like Well done more than anything else.
When his hand finally slips free, Ely is shaking all over and more than glad to sink back to the floor for a moment to grab Ariana’s hair pin. She is shifting against her column as he gets to work on his ankle cuffs and, even without seeing her face, Ely knows the grim promise of a re-located shoulder is etched into its lines as soon as he gets them free.
“We will do this together,” Ariana says pointedly, as if sensing the direction of Ely’s thoughts. “All of us.”
Kicking the opened cuffs away from his feet, Ely hesitates to consider his options and feels three burning stares adding fuel to the fire that’s already blazing away on his back. He’s no team player, not in the long run, but that doesn’t matter when the hallways fill with Diego’s torment again until his screams are bleeding through the walls and ripping holes into Ely’s chest.
He has to save him. And he can’t do it alone.
The cuffs around Ariana’s ankles click open twice as fast as Ely’s did and when she’s standing, he pulls the chains loose enough for her to get out. Her eyes are gleaming, hard like moonlight catching on a blade, and if he wants anyone to help him tear Sanai and her lies apart, Ely wants it to be Ariana.
Wordlessly, he hands her the hair pin and waits for her to free Yana and Bonnie.
Diego yells something dangerously close to Ely’s name, choked off and distant, dripping with agony, and the sound makes a home in Ely’s ribcage, crushing his bones under its unbearable weight.
Hold on, Ely thinks desperately. The girls crowd around him just as Diego calls his name again, undeniably clear this time, and Ely flinches violently.
Ariana reaches for his shoulder.
Hold on for me. We’re coming.
characters: ely, ariana, bonnie, yana
pairings: diego x ely, ariana x bonnie
wordcount: 296O
ficathon: it's never the end - prompt von tears_into_wine
notes: this scene takes place pretty far into the canon story and contains a spoiler, as well as mentions of torture
hold on to what we've got
and i'll bleed to make it last
"Ely, stop."
He can almost taste the tension in her words, meaningful weight dragging them down through the air and steadily towards the dusty ground, betraying Ariana's calm façade.
Ely doesn't even acknowledge her. Another choked-off scream echoes through the hallway and he yanks at his chains again, furiously, almost too hard. Metal scrapes against stone. Compared to the screams, it's a welcome sound.
"You'll break your wrists," Ariana continues.
Ely whips his head around to glare at her and strains his arms again - driven more by his own anger than the need to defy her. "I know that," he bites out. "but they're breaking more than his fucking wrists, aren't they?"
Her grey eyes narrow and when Ely's gaze flicks to her arms which are wrapped around the column at her back, wrists bound with metal chains leading up to the ceiling, just like his own, he can see the muscles in her upper arms tremble with tension. He doubts they'll ever be friends, but down here they have the same goal, their determination fueled by a single reason.
Ely looks back at her and Ariana nods once, barely noticeable, lips pressed into a tight line while Ely bites his teeth so hard he thinks they might crack under the pressure.
It's awfully quiet for a moment and Ely has to remind himself how to breathe, tries to reteach his lungs how to do their damn job while he sits in silence, bound and useless. As long as Diego screams, at least he knows he's still alive. The one thing pulling Ely apart at the seams is, right now, also the one thing keeping him sane.
They're running out of time. He has to do something, anything.
It feels like ages since Diego spat insults at their captors and fought harder than anyone else to make sure he would be the one to be taken away first - Ely hates him for it, and hates himself even more for only recognizing Diego's intentions when it was already too late. Now the fear is swallowing him whole.
He doesn't know how long he'll be able to keep up his angry front. He's pretty sure Ariana is looking right through it.
Just as he thinks he's going to lose it entirely, another pained sound carries through the hall, softer this time, and a quiet, shaky voice says, "They won't stop."
Ely turns to his right, heart beating in his throat, and looks at Yana's pale, tear-streaked face.
"If they want info -" he begins, but she cuts him off.
"They don't." She's still crying. Ely doesn't think she stopped ever since Sanai pointed a gun at Ariana's head. "She doesn't care about S.A.I.D., not at all. She just wants anyone out of the way who would ... who would be a real problem for her. A-And ..."
"That's us," Ariana finishes simply. "We're their best team. We're the ones giving Sanai reason to be afraid."
Ely shakes his head, slowly at first and then faster, desperation oozing into the carefully controlled lines of his face like poison. "No," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut against the truth. Someone whimpers at the far end of the room, and he distinctly thinks it must be Bonnie. If they don't care about getting any info out of Diego ...
"No," he repeats, louder this time, and he can feel himself break.
"Ely, stay calm, we have to think."
He can't think. He can't even open his eyes when Diego screams again and doesn't stop for several seconds, terribly near and still too far away. Ely thinks he can hear how Diego's voice cracks, and he snaps.
"Stop!" he yells and yanks on his chains again, warm blood trickling down his arms where the skin is raw and ripped from his useless attempts.
"Ely -"
"Let him go," he screams, letting all the fear and fury and terrifying love bleed into his voice until it fills the stone walls and echoes around them, drowning out Diego's sounds. "Leave him alone you sick bastards," Ely begs, eyes burning, and when he opens them, he can feel the tears spill. He's sobbing when he continues, yelling brokenly at the walls: "Take me instead!"
He has never lost control like that before and it scares him almost as much as the thought of Diego being tortured, leaves him gasping for breath and turns his struggles into frantic movements. "Come on," he screams, and this time he feels something crack in his left hand when he pulls at the chains again.
Distinctly, Ely knows he should be able to feel the broken bone. It's supposed to hurt. It's supposed to be a new injury to add to a list he long gave up on counting but always remained aware of.
But he doesn't feel anything. He considers pulling again, maybe -
"Ely." This time, the way Ariana says his name is firm enough to make him look at her and stop his movements for a second. The expression on her face is one he's never seen before: Her eyes are wide and reflect the sparse ceiling light more than they did a few moments ago. She stares at him with a strange mixture of shock and respect, he thinks, trying to make sense of the fragile emotions flickering across her features. "If you move your hands too much, the chains will pull tight again," Ariana tells him calmly; almost gently. "I can't see from here, but if you broke your thumb, you might get your hand out."
"I-I don't know," Ely says, sounding hoarse from his outburst. Numbness is spreading through him like a virus attacking his system, making it hard to think and concentrate on his body. All he sees is Diego, bleeding out, screaming, dying, and he feels like an overwhelmed teenager again: Fighting, but never enough to save anyone but himself.
"Breathe," someone behind him says, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Listen to her, okay? If you get free, we have ... we have a chance to get him out."
Bonnie, Ely thinks. The fiery one, who never hesitated to talk back to him, and had her words taken away along with Diego. She's talking again. Daring to hope.
He's still looking at Ariana, deafening silence stretching between them, when she nods.
"She's right. Move your fingers, carefully. Don't pull at the chains. You have to find out which one is broken."
Ariana doesn't question his pathetic inability to tell right away. Instead, her rational approach counterbalances Ely's panic and allows him a deep, shuddering breath before complying.
"Okay," he whispers, determination slowly replacing numbness, and he closes his eyes, moves his fingers. He knows it was the left hand. He knows they don't have much time left, judging by Diego's silence. Metal scrapes against stone once more when he shifts slightly, lessening the pressure. His wrist is intact, and a majority of fingers as well, but when he finally tries to move his thumb, his nerve endings protest violently and a steadily reoccurring wave of pain crashes through his brain cells.
Ely opens his eyes and looks at Ariana again. She hasn't moved an inch.
"It's the thumb," he says and she almost, but not quite, sags with relief.
"Lift your hands up as far as you can," Ariana instructs. "The chains lead upwards. If they don't strain anymore, you should be able to pull your left hand out, but keep the right one up as high as you can."
Ely takes a second to process her words and nods quietly, his mouth set into a firm line. Trying his hardest not to think about the sudden absence of Diego's screams, he starts lifting his arms up along the column. Immediately, his shoulders start aching and Ely bends his upper body forward to allow himself more room. He has to do this right.
The skin on his cheeks feels uncomfortably tight as tears start to dry, but it's nothing compared to his increasingly protesting shoulders. A joint in his upper arm pops and it sounds like a gun shot in the silence.
"Ariana -" Bonnie starts, her chains rustling softly as she moves.
"Further," Ariana says without letting Bonnie continue. Ely grinds his teeth and nods again.
Keeping up the upwards-movement of his arms feels like he's going to rip them out, straight from his back, but Ely doesn't care. They have no idea when Sanai is going to send someone for them, when the next one is going to be taken after they deem Diego useless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ely sees Ariana strain her neck as she tries to catch a glimpse of the chain dangling behind his column. "A little higher," she says, and Ely wants to laugh because at this point he's sure his arms won't survive any further.
"I ... can't," he grinds out reluctantly, hissing out a breath.
He feels bent in half already, using all of his strength to remain in his current position.
"Trust me," Ariana says.
Caught by surprise, Ely turns his head towards her, grimacing at his aching shoulders. She would never resolve to begging, he's sure of that after encountering her will power on multiple occasions. Getting under Ariana's skin works about as well as trying to crack a diamond with your bare hands, and yet ... right now she's looking at him like she might be willing to let him see beneath the hard surface. Like she's not quite pleading, but urging him to see her as an ally despite his general distrust of literally everyone, and especially someone potentially more skilled than himself.
"Ely, trust me," she repeats. "Keep moving."
He doesn't have much of a choice. And even if he did ... he probably would have listened for once.
Ely suppresses a groan and raises his arms until the fire in his muscles consumes his senses completely and this time he knows he can't get any further without -
"Don't scream," Ariana says, and either Bonnie or Yana draws in a sharp breath just as Ely realizes what's going on. Pulling his left hand free will only work if his right one keeps the chain up high enough while he moves. He has to be fast. It's a matter of seconds, and his current position still isn't good enough.
Ely nods slowly at Ariana in understanding and braces himself. Vigorously willing himself not to make a sound, he stretches his fingers against each other to make his left hand as small as possible and wriggles them down while yanking his right arm up with all the strength he can summon. A strangled gasp grazes Ely's conscience as his shoulder dislocates with a sickening crack. His left hand slips free and he slumps back against the column, belatedly realizing the gasp must have been his own. His vision whites out for a few seconds. He bites his tongue to keep quiet and tastes copper.
Get over it, he thinks heatedly, breathing through the pain, He needs you.
He lifts his head from where he'd let it sink to his chest and directs his gaze back at Ariana, waits for her to tell him what to do because no matter how much he hates to admit it, Ely is overwhelmed and too out of it to act sensibly on his own right now.
"Okay, good," Ariana says, either knowing what he needs to hear or something like genuine praise in her voice, Ely can't really tell. "Try to stand up and get your other arm free."
"His legs," Yana pipes up from Ely's other side while he considers Ariana's words with creeping doubt. Yana somehow manages to sound shaken up and firm at the same time. "How are we gonna get those free?"
Following her train of thought, Ely glances down at the cuffs on his ankles that leave no space for him to move his feet apart more than an inch. He could stand, but he'd still be useless in a serious fight.
Ely lifts his head towards Ariana and is surprised to find a grim smile on her lips.
"Don't worry, I got this," she says and pulls her equally bound legs up to her chest, bending forward until her arms strain and her head touches her knees. Ely frowns, shifting slightly to try and lessen the searing burn in his shoulder, but then he sees Ariana's short, calculated moves: She's dragging the side of her head against the rough fabric of her trousers, making a tangled mess of her dark hair until, finally, a small hair pin falls to the ground next to her legs.
"What happened, what did you do?" Bonnie asks, her view blocked by Yana and Ely who are sitting between her and Ariana.
Ely feels his mouth twitch into a triumphant grin and Yana, disbelief and wonder clear in her voice, says, "Ariana's perfectly styled hair might have just saved us."
A shocked laugh bubbles out of Bonnie at that, followed by something that sounds like a sniffle. "We're gonna get him out, right?" she asks, very softly.
Ely, who's already pushing up on his feet, is surprised to hear Ariana answer, and nothing short of stunned when she says, "Of course, babe, we'll get him back. We'll be okay."
Her expression shifts into something soft and strange and reassuring as she leans forward as far as she can, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of Bonnie. Only as she realizes Ely stopped moving, she looks back to him and those grey eyes are razor-sharp as ever, narrowed as if daring him to comment on the short exchange. Ely wouldn't dream about it and hurries to continue his efforts instead, leaning his weight back against the column and pushing himself up until he's standing and panting from the pain in his shoulder.
He doesn't even want to think about moving his right arm, isn't sure if he could. But he's looking at Ariana and sees her push the hair pin towards him with her feet.
"C'mon," she urges, not cold but not gentle either. Ely thinks you must be pretty special for Ariana to be gentle with you. And as it seems, someone that special is sitting two columns from him right now.
The worst thing is: Ely relates a lot.
For the span of a dozen thundering heartbeats, quiet creeps into the empty spaces between him and Diego’s girls, disrupted only by their even breaths, and Ely thinks maybe he was wrong to think of them as Diego’s girls ever since their existence became more than a mere fact in the back of his mind - maybe he’s got it all twisted up and there is nothing like a hierarchy in ICARUS, but a solid foundation instead, held up in equal parts by all of them.
Ely tries to even out his breaths and match the unsteady rhythm with the calmer ones of Ariana, Bonnie, Yana. He used to pride himself on his unwavering fearlessness, but now Ely realizes how little he knew about bravery until he met these girls.
He can’t let them down. He can’t let Diego die.
“Okay,” Ely whispers, more to himself than anyone else, and starts moving.
His shoulder screams in burning agony and staying quiet through it is almost impossible, but he doesn’t give up. Ely reaches up with his free hand and blindly searches until his fingers meet metal.
When he shoves and hooks his pointer and middle finger in-between his still captured wrist and the several layers of chain links twining around it, he knows he has won and grins against his body’s subtle demand to pass out.
“Hurry up,” Yana breathes somewhere at his side and Ely’s grin broadens because she makes it sound like Well done more than anything else.
When his hand finally slips free, Ely is shaking all over and more than glad to sink back to the floor for a moment to grab Ariana’s hair pin. She is shifting against her column as he gets to work on his ankle cuffs and, even without seeing her face, Ely knows the grim promise of a re-located shoulder is etched into its lines as soon as he gets them free.
“We will do this together,” Ariana says pointedly, as if sensing the direction of Ely’s thoughts. “All of us.”
Kicking the opened cuffs away from his feet, Ely hesitates to consider his options and feels three burning stares adding fuel to the fire that’s already blazing away on his back. He’s no team player, not in the long run, but that doesn’t matter when the hallways fill with Diego’s torment again until his screams are bleeding through the walls and ripping holes into Ely’s chest.
He has to save him. And he can’t do it alone.
The cuffs around Ariana’s ankles click open twice as fast as Ely’s did and when she’s standing, he pulls the chains loose enough for her to get out. Her eyes are gleaming, hard like moonlight catching on a blade, and if he wants anyone to help him tear Sanai and her lies apart, Ely wants it to be Ariana.
Wordlessly, he hands her the hair pin and waits for her to free Yana and Bonnie.
Diego yells something dangerously close to Ely’s name, choked off and distant, dripping with agony, and the sound makes a home in Ely’s ribcage, crushing his bones under its unbearable weight.
Hold on, Ely thinks desperately. The girls crowd around him just as Diego calls his name again, undeniably clear this time, and Ely flinches violently.
Ariana reaches for his shoulder.
Hold on for me. We’re coming.