Friday, part one
I'm back from deployment, but currently not at work due to a surgery I'll be having next week. Plenty of time for writings! I can't promise that part two will come out tomorrow or anything, but I'm working on it.
Friday
Part One
The bruise had developed very nicely in the time that it had taken to get back to T.C., exploding in purples and yellows across Max's temple in a manner that complemented Peta's own shiner of black and gold. Peta had considered making a quip about 'wardrobe coordination' when Max and Alec had burst through the door, but to be honest, it was just too much effort to talk when you had a hole in your lung. And Jericho had already sternly warned her that one more smart ass remark was going to get her put in a less private recovery room. That was the very last thing that Peta, normally so social, wanted right now. She didn't even want to look at anybody, she was so tired.
No, not just tired, but fucking tired. Of all of it. She could feel the disgust welling from her puffy face, from the sharp pain of each quick intake of breath, the breath that had a slight off-sounding wetness to it. It was a disgust in her injuries, a disgust at her weakness, a disgust that because, even though she ached in pain and resentment, part of her wondered if Clara thought of her and maybe, just maybe, wondered if she was okay... But Peta shut that down viciously. This was all Clara's fault in the first place. She swallowed bitterly and pretended like she believed that, like she didn't know that she'd brought this down on herself. It was easy to see though, wasn't it?
Clearly, the first mistake had been accepting Jay on the night squad. Max had warned her but she hadn't listened, stubborn brute that she was. The second had been insisting he come along with her on her rounds so she could snipe at him underhandedly about Clara's obvious lack of taste in men... not at all like her taste in women. The thought still made her lip curl in a pained half smile. And the third... the third... she supposed the third mistake was in that she cared too much. Wasn't that always the downfall of transgenics? You care, you get hurt. It'd happened so often, to so many she knew, she wondered why any of them even tried any more.
It had all come to a head when Jay had finally turned on her glaring, demanding to know what Peta was getting at.
It had seemed so easy to smile so slowly, so cruelly, to say nothing and let his mind connect everything for itself.
She hadn't exactly warned him off, had she? But it was a direct challenge and they both knew it. With an exasperated, 'that's it', Jay had thrown the first punch that Peta had very fluidly, and very gleefully, avoided. In her mind, there had only been one outcome; her victory. One future: her's and Clara's. That the fight would grab one or two gawkers had been expected. That someone had the stupidity to rouse Clara and tell her what was going down was unfortunate. That the blonde had sprinted out of nowhere with a 'no, don't hurt him'... absolutely crushing.
Spinning to grab the smaller girl by the waist and shelter her from Jay's red-eyed incoming fury had seemed like such a good idea at the time... but no, it had been a costly mistake. It was Peta's ribs that had borne the brunt of Jay's attack. And it was Sara, Peta's other ex, that had lashed out at Jay, stunning him with a punch to the side of the head that she had later blandly told Jericho was necessary to calm him down. Clara... what had Clara done? The pain fogged in and out making memory fuzzy. Had she even cared? Had she been horrified when Peta had begun coughing the frothy blood that spoke of a shattered rib and a punctured lung? When the pain had made Peta black out? Or had she run, like a little fucking schoolgirl, to Jay, dazed on the street, suffering little more than a slight concussion and ringing ears?
Peta glared at the ceiling and pretended that the tears burning unwilling in her eyes didn't sting quite so sharply. She pretended that she was alone, so that the shame didn't burn quite as much.
But she wasn't alone, and Jericho's long-winded lecture faded and died. The medic shot a quick, awkward glance at Alec and Max still waiting by the door before looking at Peta once more. She shifted from foot to foot in obvious discomfort, watching Peta glare at the ceiling, so obviously ignoring her, so obviously miserable. She lasted as long as she could... but she couldn't do it, and the emotion that she was ill-equipped to work with sent her fleeing from the room with a terse, “You can take it from here,” to Alec and Max.
Coward.
Peta snorted and rubbed at the side of her face viciously with the butt of her palm.
They didn't say much at first, just stood there in silence for a while, taking in Peta's bruised face. Her body, normally so animated, strong even, seemed somehow smaller and frailer when encased in the blankets on the small, green cot shoved in one corner. No fancy hospital beds here; make do with what you got and be grateful for even that. Alex was mostly just grateful Peta was okay... or mostly okay, in this case. And Max... From the pinched, sour expression on her face, Max looked like she was strangling on a lemon. Her body was tense with anxiety and he recognized the signs of violence in her: she wanted to lash out at something, anything. To her credit, she struggled through it, her concern for her friend overriding any lecture she was undoubtedly storing for later.
“Are you okay?” She asked as gently as she could. Undoubtedly, it was going to be a huge lecture. How nice to you she was after some serious shit was always inversely proportional to the major ass-reaming that would descend 'once you could handle it.'
Peta's glare narrowed even further. She gestured quickly at her ribs, before bringing her hand up once again to wipe viciously at that stray bit of weakness that had been rude enough to leak out of her eye and down the side of her face.
“Yes, Mole told us about your ribs on the way in. That's not what Max was asking, Peta.” God, Alec's voice was was gentle too. Not him, too. Why wouldn't they just yell at her and go away?
Peta turned her face away, hiding her face in shadows before she completely lost it. How odd that when you are so down, it is compassion that pushes you to the edge. She wanted the lecture. She wanted the anger so she could hack out a smart ass quip and find a way to get back to not caring. Only...
The duo hesitated for a moment, and she could almost feel them beginning to withdraw, to offer her space, and something small within her balked at the idea of being alone in this small room with nothing but her defeated loneliness... so she opened a little bit of herself to them, just for a moment.
Her voice, from the shadows of the corner, was soft, expelled in once quick breath with a sickly slickness to it.
“I don't think she even cared.”
Alec's gaze turned immediately impassive, his eyes going inward to some dark, lonely place, maybe because he understood all to well. Max on the other hand... “Her?” Max's voice was tight, the coiled violence within her spiralling up and up and up. “You're the one in the hospital and you're worried about her?!” She gestured widely, as if pointing to the offending her, somewhere out there.
He still managed to offer up a conciliatory, “Max-”
“Don't even give me that look, Alec!” The edge in Max's sharp voice almost brought a smile to Peta's face. Almost. It was enough to stop the undignified leaking of her eyes though, and for that Peta was incredibly grateful. The next words, however, had her frowning, as Max continued to rage, “I have half a mind to hunt down the both of them, Clara and Jay, and-”
“Don't.”
Peta's voice had been soft and tired, but it still managed to fill the room, silencing Max. When she was sure she had their attention, Peta finished gently, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. “It's over, Max.” She couldn't say much more than that, she was operating on only one lung here, so she let her head roll back into the pillows as she waited for the fall-out.
Max swallowed down the surprise. “Over?” The word rolled in her mouth. Max was an inherently stubborn creature, the word never sat well with her. The few times she'd tried to use it on Logan, it'd always ended disastrously. Peta glanced at Alec, her eyes pleading him to make Max see reason. He sighed, knowing exactly how un-well this was going to go down.
“Peta thinks she challenged Jay for Clara, Max.” Alec tried to gently explain, bracing for the eruption that was sure to happen. “She lost. She thinks it's over.”
It took a moment; Max deciphering the words, the meaning dawning on her face, the righteous fury welling, and finally the outpouring of ire. “Are you kidding me?” She focused on Peta, brokenly amused on the cot below her. “Don't be stupid, Peta. What do you think this is, the jungle?”
Peta nodded once, sharply, like, yes, that's exactly what I think this is. She'd challenged, she'd fought, she'd lost, no matter that she'd lost in a misguided attempt to protect the prize. Clearly that didn't matter to Clara: Clara wasn't here, was she? Sara had clocked Jay pretty good, maybe Clara had needed to drag him back to the her apartment. The idea initially brought Peta some amusement, but then the thought of Jay in Clara's apartment while she cooed over him made Peta's stomach clench, made her lips twist. Not that Clara, as deceivingly sweet as she looked, had ever been the cooing type over anything other than her child.
Max was still full of fiery righteousness though, and she managed to get out, “If you love something, you have to fight for it, Peta.” But then, oddly, she faltered... Peta glanced upwards in time to watch as Max's brown eyes slide to the side; thinking of Logan maybe? Alec's eyes were on Max, some unknown expression on his face. His green eyes flicked towards Peta, caught her watching him, and his face was schooled back into the lies he carried so well. I see you, her eyes told that secret self within him. He smiled in that half way of his, the kind that never quite reached his eyes and told her that he saw her, too.
“Want us to bring you anything?” Alec took advantage of Max's distraction to blandly change the subject. Max didn't quite jolt, but she came back to herself, glaring at him to let him know she disapproved of his conversation hijacking.
Peta's lips quirked, ever so slightly, and she wheezed out, “Shiny new lung?”
“Sure,” Alec's smile became condescending. “I'll go check my fridge, maybe I have one just layin' around.”
He payed for it with a familiar slap on the backside of his head as they were walking out.
“She started a fight and punctured a lung and you're in there joking with her?!”
He glanced at her, half-smile already cocked and ready to go. “You of all people should know transgenics don't deal with things like this Max. Give her time to beat herself up. She'll talk when she's ready.”
“Right,” Max snorted as they continued their easy saunter down the hallway. “Like you ever talked to me about Rachel Berrisford after I offered.”
He tensed, noticeably, but he kept walking. Max took the message and internalized it. He's not over it. The thought came with a little surprise. And dismay. God, was that what he was still doing jumping from female to female? He still couldn't deal, couldn't settle down, not with the ghost of Rachel riding him? Is that why he'd come to her, unattainable Max, no worry for entanglements there? The world reeled suddenly. Oh god, she suddenly felt sick... and angry... and alone? She fought the urge to lash out at him, but it built and built and before all the accusations could come spilling out, the familiar sound of fist hitting flesh caught her ear.
The oh-so-familiar sound of the scuffle had Max and Alec exchanging a glance and sharing a much needed sigh. They took off down the disgustingly cheery yellow hallway, cracked paint notwithstanding, and rolled into the clinic's foyer in time to watch short, sweet Clara once again ram her fist into the side of Sara's much taller form. Sara was holding her own though, her narrowed green eyes furious as her long fingers dug into Clara's silky blonde hair and yanked. Alec gaped for a moment before just rolling his eyes and leaning back into his heels. Jericho was sputtering in outrage near what had once been a receptionist's rounded built-in desk in this abandoned dental-office-turned-med-station.
“Jeri!” Max shouted exasperated. Some medic... Jeri turned the glare on Max, like, what do you want me to do about it? Maybe Jeri's skills didn't extend much into combat. What an odd idea. Didn't look like Alec was planning on moving anytime soon, either. He even had the gall to glance at her, shooting her almost a lascivious smirk. God, did Max have to do everything around here? She huffed and stomped right into the fray before Alec did anything stupid, like try to talk her out of it.
“Knock it off!” She shouted, grabbing them both by the shoulder and using her all of her strength to bodily shove the two women away from each other. Jeri side-stepped as Sara fell back into the counter, still heaving in annoyance. Clara hit the opposite wall, her face pink in rage. God, she was even cute when she was angry. Disgusting.
“Now,” Max continued sternly, her hands coming up to her hips. “Does somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on here?!”
“The amazon over there frickin' jumped me!” Clara bit out, pushing herself away from the wall.
Sara straightened as well, flipping her mass of wavy brown hair over one shoulder.
“Miss America had it coming.” She shot back, finishing up with a hissed, “What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be at home, nursing your caveman?”
“It's none of your business what I do. The better question is what are you doing here? You broke up with her, remember? ” Clara's narrowed blue eyes shot sparks and it seemed almost sacrilegious to have such a sweet looking girl bite out, “Shouldn't you be out whoring it up?”
Sara would have flown at the smaller woman, regardless of the fact that Max was still standing between them, if it hadn't been for Jeri stepping in, wrenching her arm back as it drew up in a fist. Jeri wasn't completely defenseless then. Sara struggled against the other woman's strength. What the hell had Jeri been waiting for, then?
“Who the hell do you think you are judging me?” Sara shrieked. Max wouldn't hear the rumors till later, but it was pretty common knowledge that Sara hadn't exactly been celibate in the short time since she'd broken up with Peta. But then again... neither had Peta... “You think I wanted to break up with Peta?” Sara demanded, her voice lowering to a normal, if acidic, range. “The only reason I did was because all she cared about was you.”
The tall woman succeeded in jerking her arm away from Jeri, either that or Jeri let her, one of the two. Sara advanced but Max was still standing her ground and she was forced to stop a respectful distance from the leader of T.C. Didn't stop her from glaring at Clara over the top of their leader's head. “I guess it was all wasted effort though because you ended up ditching her anyway!”
“So, let me get this straight,” Jeri frowned. “You both broke up with the same woman that... you're both fighting over now? Am I the only one that finds this all a little hypocritical and ridiculous?” Max glanced at her in agreement but Sara and Clara were oblivious, still glaring at each other for all they were worth. Jeri rolled her eyes and left the foyer, washing her hands of nonsense. She had better things to do than be party to this soap opera.
“You don't get it.” Clara insisted, still angry. Her words were directed at Sara though, as if Jeri had never even been there. “I have a child, I have to-”
“No, you don't get it.” Sara butt in, something glistening in her eyes, just for a moment. Something soft and almost sad, something that made whatever it was that Clara had been about to hiss die before it had even formed on her lips. “She would do anything for you, you know?”
From the devastated expression on her face, it seemed that yes, Clara did know. But it didn't change facts. “Everything but be faithful.”
Max felt a sudden sharp pang of sympathy for both the women. As much as Max was on Peta's side, and she was always on Peta's side, she was reminded that Peta wasn't exactly innocent in this situation. She had dated both women willingly, despite her obvious emotional attachment to the shorter of the two. And when it had all gone to shit, instead of doing anything to fix what had gone down, she'd just rebounded, burying herself in the chasing of Marly, the blonde Max had caught coming out of the gym reeking of sex on Tuesday morning. Max almost wanted to run a hand down her face in obvious frustration; instead she just glanced at Alec. Like, some help please?
He took her cue, breaking into the scene. “Look ladies, I get it; you've got a lot of sorting out to do... but Peta is still in recovery. You think this is the best time for this? We all know there's no way Max or I will let you in to see her tonight.” Max's obstinate expression screamed of agreement.
“Besides,” Alec continued, lying easily. “She's asleep, she couldn't listen to you haranguing her even if she wanted to.” Max glanced at him, a lifetime of doing her own lying, about her nature, her gene pool, everything, recognizing the craftsmen in him. He was so casual about it, so perfect. How had she even caught his Rachel Berrisford reaction? Had he let her?
Not all transgenics were trained to be assassins though, and Clara and Sara seemed to accept his words, albeit grudgingly. They glanced at each other, remembered that they hated each other and glared once more. “I'll be back later,” Clara warned. It was a general statement, almost flippant, directed at the entire room, but her eyes were still narrowly focused on Sara.
“Likewise.” The taller woman offered coolly, her head nodding towards Max, even if her eyes were glued on Clara. Nobody moved for a moment, stuck in an odd impasse. Finally Sara turned on her heel and stalked out. After a moment, Clara followed.
“And stay tuned for the next episode of 'All My Transgenics,'” Alec shook his head in wonder.
“What?”
“Nothing,” He sighed. “My brain's endless trove of TV knowledge is completely lost on you.”
“I know what 'All My Children' is, Alec.” Max made a face, “One of the few pre-Pulse programs that made it back to the air. I told you about my old roommate Kendra: she lived for things like that. The question is, how do you know what it is?”
Alec paused before offering nonchalantly, with a superior, heavy lidded expression, “That is... clearly not important.”
“Right.”