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Daycycle 105 [ August 28 - September 03]

daycycle 105

[Aug 28 - Sept 3]

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty
Felicity Smoak and Natasha Romanoff, have been selected for today’s mission. Details are below:

‘In order to help us improve our combat simulators, you will need to run through any combat situation you encounter at least three times. On the second pass through, engage the combat at a greater range than originally. On the third pass through, attempt it at a much closer range. You will provide tactical notes to our staff afterwards. If the simulators catch fire, or fail to respond to override commands... note that too. The eggheads were supposed to have fixed that.’

Please debrief the computer on the status of your mission by the end of the Daycycle here.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will be at 1700 in Hangar 15, Armed Forces Sector and will be hosted by the Alpha Complex Dogeball Association. Join us for a game of Alpha Dodgeball! All clearance levels above INFRARED welcome.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

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Oliver simply nodded in return. He of all people knew what it was like to keep a relationship together under stressful circumstances and he hadn't made it work, though Felicity would have said it had nothing to do with their circumstances and everything to do with him. He did respect anyone who would try to have a relationship in this place and even if things with Felicity weren't the way they had been, he wasn't sure he'd want to know the man he'd have been in this place without her.

If his new roommates wanted that time to themselves, he wasn't going to begrudge them. It didn't mean he wasn't going to keep an eye on them, just for security's sake, but it also meant that he wasn't going to cause the kind of trouble that they might have been worried about when it came to their relationship.

Hell, for all he knew, those kind of relationships, any kind of personal relationships, were forbidden here.

Felicity just listens to all of it first before saying anything. Her eyes never leave his, with the brief exception of when he's kissing her hand. She already knows that she's missed him, but right now, she could feel how much she's specifically missed hearing his voice. On so many missions, his voice was her only line to Oliver — the only way she knew that he was okay and unhurt and able to come back to her at the end of the night. That's why the combination of that voice telling her 'We are together' and 'I still love you' and 'Can you trust me for a little while?' gives Felicity only one way to interpret his answer.

She tightens her grip on his hand. "I love you, Oliver. And if like you said, we're still together-" Her eyes are full of love and hope for him. "-and you still love me, then- What are you asking me to do?" Her voice is quiet and her lips curl into a small, empathetic smile. "Of course I'm willing to trust you. But darling-" It feels good to say that again. "-if you aren't breaking up with me, then- what's- What's happening right now?" Her other hand reaches for his face again, and if he lets her, she runs the back of her fingers against his cheek before cupping his jaw.

If Oliver lets her keep this line of reasoning and Felicity recovers her memories one day, this was surely all going to cost Oliver something. Not their entire relationship — probably — but now that she's made it clear how she's interpreted his answer, the real question was, would he allow that interpretation to solidify?

Her handshake is soft — mostly because something firm just doesn't feel right at the moment. So instead of going all the way to reach his palm, when their hands touch, her thumb can barely reach his knuckles. It honestly feels more like she's holding onto him and moving his hand a bit instead of shaking it.

"Derek Hale," she repeats, so she doesn't forget either. There's no clock to glance towards except the PDC in her pocket, but it does feel like they only have a few minutes left, so Felicity nods when he asks to walk her back.

When they get up, she takes a step towards the hallway and pauses, a little sheepish smile on her face. Her eyebrows are raised in concern when she looks up at him. "It didn't end up burning you ... did it? I'm really- I really am sorry you had to do that for me. No one should have to take a hot coffee to the chest."

He hates to separate again when he honestly has no idea, with as many people as there are in the Complex, whether or when he'll see her again, but it's getting late and after all the trouble he and Stiles went through trying to figure out the idiotic train system to get back to the Wagon Wheel on time, he's not trying to get hit with that sleep aid gas while he's in the common room, if they run it through the whole building. Even the abandoned warehouse would've been a better fate than that.

So he's dragging ass, but he's going as they move down the hall and he smiles a little at her question, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he promises her. Derek doesn't need her worrying anymore about the burn. Yeah it was hot and yeah it hurt like hell for the first few seconds, but he was fine a few minutes later and he's still fine, now.

"I didn't mind," he says with a little grin, nudging her shoulder with his own. "Which room is yours?" he asks as they near the part of the hall where the Specials all seemed to be grouped together, from what Derek can tell.

"Your lip's busted... in more than one place." It's a valid argument, of course. And it isn't that Adam doesn't want to kiss Ronan. Kissing Ronan is always one of his favorite things. Even through his upset over the whole fighting ordeal, it's still one of his favorite things in spite of the way he might seem to fight it. It's just that kissing Ronan right now would just add to whatever hurt Ronan is already feeling. There's no sense in denying it either. Ronan is a mass of bruises and cuts. Of course he hurts.

They get to their room, a room they now share with two other men, unfortunately. Men, whom Adam doesn't trust or like as far as he can spit, which isn't very far. Not that he's given them much of a chance for liking or trusting, but, you know, he's Adam Parrish. He goes into the bathroom with Ronan because that's where they keep the first aide kit.

So much for that bit of positivity, Stiles thinks, as he continues to look around for the right place to go. It would have helped if the text didn't cycle through on the signs - just when you thought you had found what you wanted, they changed. It's frustrating, waiting for the right words to come back around, and the signs around it wouldn't display the same information. There are others - but finding the signs still leaves the same problem as before - there isn't enough time to read everything.

He looks over his shoulder from where he'd finally resorted to waiting, and blinks. "That, that would be the easiest way," he says sheepishly. Still he gives the sign one last narrowed eyed look before following after Derek, and the other REDs, past a few archways, and down towards an escalator marked with a series of route numbers.

A bright stripe of lights marks out the edge of the platform, and they flash as a train approaches the station.

Derek admittedly feels marginally more confident when Stiles agrees to follow the other REDs, because it makes him think that maybe it's not just a random thought process, but a decent idea. Derek's not very good at having those. Ideas, sure. Good ones? Not so much.

As the train pulls up to the platform, a neon sign flashes on its side R&D, Wagon Wheel, Technology. That'll do, he thinks, and looks over at Stiles with his brows lifted in question.

"Well, here goes. Let's hope it's the right one."

((ooc: fade out there or keep going? totes up to you!))

It makes sense, since without specialized arrangements, all citizens beneath Blue clearance stayed at the Wagon Wheel. There's no reason Stiles can think of that would have a group of nearly a dozen other REDs stay elsewhere for the night, and sleepovers aren't exactly an option.

Though the windows, Stiles can make out some other people inside the train. "Yeah, but I'll say it's more than a hope." He indicates the number of people around them, and on the train.

The doors open with a soft hiss, and he steps in, reaching out for one of the poles in the center before the train starts up again.

Most of the other citizens keep to themselves; looking out the window, or down at their PDCs, but there are pockets of people, possibly coworkers, having a quiet conversation. The bits of it he can overhear doesn't hold his interest long. He doesn't try to start another conversation, doubting that small talk would last long, now that other topics are off the table, resigning himself to a mental game of I spy to pass the time.

A bright, cheerful voice announces each stop as they arrive, more people joining them as they ride on.

Once they actually get close enough and Derek can see the many REDS, ORANGES, and a smattering of YELLOWs and GREENs in the train car, he nods at Stiles's comment and feels a lot more confident that they're going to make it back in time just fine. There's no way the car would be this packed with people this late at night if it wasn't headed back to the Wagon Wheel.

The ride isn't too long, although it feels a lot longer than it is to Derek because he's standing through the lot of it, but he's more than happy to disembark when they get to the stop when the announcement from the obnoxiously perky voice says they've made it to the Wagon Wheel.

Derek and Stiles make their way up the elevator and have to wait a few turns in line before they'll fit, as there are so many people headed up, but Derek doesn't start a new conversation and neither does Stiles. Derek suspects that's because there's nothing left to say that can safely be overheard by others.

"All right, hey...thanks," he tells Stiles as they get off the elevator on their floor and his eyes shift toward the still-trashed common room. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

He nods goodnight to Stiles and moves into the common room to kill the last few minutes before he needs to go back to his room. They'll see each other tomorrow. He hopes.

"Yeah?" The question is earnest. Barry hasn't had much interaction with Steve, but he's had enough to know that he wouldn't mind impressing him. It's not exactly a stretch of the imagination to see Steve as the hero that he says he is.

The question makes him pause, even though there's an easy answer. He's not sure how much Steve's favorite employee might know about the Specials network and headquarters. "We were assigned on a mission together. It was kind of a bonding experience."

"And by that, I mean it was terrifying."

Barry nods in agreement, taking some comfort from the fact that Oliver is so adamant about it. Of course she will be. Felicity is... one of the smartest people he knows. She's held her own on Team Arrow for the last two years. She'd be fine.

"If you'd asked me before I woke up here, I'd say no way," Barry says, letting his hand drop back to his side and frowning back at Oliver. "But I've seen them bring someone back that shouldn't have been able to come back." Considering Oliver was worried enough about Felicity he decided not to mention that it had been Ray.

He shook his head. "I don't know. But I know the memories being a glitch is a lie."

She's heard rumors about the soylent food. She'd rather not consider those rumors. "Yeah. We probably don't want to think too hard about that," she makes face.

"Unbelievable, unilaterally, unicycle...yeah, you're right. Tricky."

Buffy nods and waves at him. "I'll be listening for the cheering section."

"Guess I'll see you later, Man," Ronan responded then started to walk off. He wasn't one to hang around and make small talk and it didn't seem as if Oliver was either. They'd probably get along well enough and it was good that he knew who he was sharing a room with. Adam and Ronan had started their relationship back home and they've been trying to feel their way along continuing that here.

In this place, you had to keep an eye on everyone, for good and bad reasons. Specials were hated by the alphas so you had to watch out for them, but you couldn't always trust your fellow specials. Ronan would keep an eye on Oliver as well. He wasn't going to cause trouble for him though, not without reason.

Ronan hasn't asked about relationships of any kind and whether they're allowed because he doesn't give a fuck what the computer thinks about that subject (or any other, really).

Ronan shrugs a little at Adam's argument. "So you'll be careful." Clearly, he's not going to let a little pain get in his way, particularly when there's a part of Ronan that likes pain. Yes, Ronan hurts and doing anything at all is going to make that pain flare. He's not going to deny it. There are some things that are worth all the pain.

Once in the bathroom, Ronan doesn't bother with modesty. He turns on the water as hot as it will go and strips off, stepping into the shower, eyes closing at the way the heat feels blissful on his skin, head bowed so the water can hit him and run down his body to wash all the blood off.

Of course Ronan won't bother with modesty. And of course he likes pain. Adam has caught on to that. It's obvious in the way he more and more often bites at Ronan's lips or squeezes his flesh just a little too hard. It always gets a reaction out of him. Ronan gets reactions from Adam often enough. Sometimes it's nice to return the favor.

With the first aide kit put away, Adam's gaze can't help but drift to the shower. He watches Ronan, unafraid while the other has his eyes closed. And somehow he's drifted closer, his fingertips pressed slightly to the glass doors as they start to fog up. Ronan's body is littered with bruises in the same way Adam's used to be. His stomach his flip-flopping uncomfortably. His mind and heart are torn between enjoying the intimate moment, just looking and cringing at what he's looking at.

Adam makes a mental list of all the names of the people Ronan has fought. He's going to find a way to retaliate, a smart way, a secret way.

"Where our relationship was," he said slowly, "is based on so many things you don't know and it's not fair to either of us to pretend that none of it happened. It's not fair to you. I gave you my word once, but truth isn't easy. Especially the kinds of things we have to live through. So I need time."

He flicked a significant glance at the camera and lowered his voice.

"And that's before worrying about what's safe."

His roommates, at least, had seemed intent on hiding their relationship. Whether that was pure paranoia or for a good reason was anyone's guess, but it was in Oliver's nature to be cautious. He wasn't going to show off any relationship in public without knowing that it wouldn't come back to him. Come back to Felicity.

"So I suppose I'm asking you to wait. Until we both settle in and figure out what we can show to the public. Until I can figure out how to tell you what needs to be said. Can we go back to that place where we were friends?" His face softened almost imperceptibly because he knew that during the time he was asking her to rewind their relationship to, they hadn't been friends. Or at least, they hadn't been just friends. They'd been people who'd loved each other and hadn't been able to say the words.

When she starts again but pauses, Steve’s mind nearly goes straight to the worst possible scenario. That something terrible has happened and she doesn’t know who to tell or where to go. “I had someone go through the apartment. No bugs. You can speak your mind, here.”

But when she refers to her dreams, a bit of tension dissipates from his shoulders. For a moment, he’d thought Morgana had been targeted by A.S.S., the anti-Special Squad, or whatever they called themselves. It’s been a long time since they popped their heads up, but Steve was always on alert. He doesn’t want another Special to get kidnapped and beaten.

“Did you have a dream last night?”

( ooc: I don’t know anything about her dreams but if it makes sense for them to have talked about it, just tell me some stuff ooc and I had make sure Steve has the correct memories. )

Steve doesn’t say anything — he doesn’t answer, doesn’t go into any specifics, doesn’t do anything to make her worry any less. She’s been here for one day. He’s been here for over a hundred. He isn’t saying anything until he takes her to a place where there aren’t ears pressed to the wall.

“I was always a red, white and blue kinda guy.” As for where they were going? “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

Steve trusts her, just as he trusted Tony two days ago. It’s blind and stupid but there was something in his gut that that tells Steve that they were real. Not clones sent by the Computer to test his loyalty. Real.

When they get off the elevator, the scenery changes dramatically. The rest of Alpha Complex might be some parts shiny, some parts industrial, but the underground floor they just stepped into was all parts abandoned. It gets worse from there. Twists and turns — maybe even the odd rattle or two from the ceilings or the walls, before Steve brings her right in front of a door. It doesn’t look like much.

Steve glances over, right before he reaches for the handle and pushes the door open and everything about the room screams Tony Stark. His tech, his layout, his half working lab made out of scrapes and pieces. But it also looks old and untouched. Like if Tony really made all this, he wasn’t still making it. Steve shuts the door behind her, and for the first time, there’s a look of relief in his eyes.

“Nat.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know where to begin.” Everything about his body language changes — every part of him that had been tough or guarded or secretive on their whole way here, melts away. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He’d hug her, if that was something they normally did. But it wasn’t.

Rest assured Caitlin, it’s not your age. She’ll hear him calling everyone ma’am soon enough.

“For an underground city, this place is a lot bigger than I originally thought.” Steve grins as he leads her out the doors. Caitlin will notice that the landscape doesn't change much, and they haven't actually gone outdoors. Instead, they're in a large, septic white complex. "Welcome to the Technical Services Section," he says. "This is where cloning and medical services take place. This also happens to be where the automobile garages are."

If she has questions at anytime, he’s happy to answer them as they come up. In between questions and as they walk, Steve explains Alpha's geography. The northern edge is the Armed Services Sector, which houses Alpha's armory, training facilities and military. In the eastern edge is Research and Development. And to the south is the Power Services sector, which houses the machinery that keeps the Complex running.

Which brings Steve to the last main building of interest.

“But the Wagon Wheel is at the center of it all. That’s where we’re headed now. It's where most of us live and where your room will be. The Computer has probably already assigned you a job. Tomorrow morning, you’ll find out what that is."

By the time he's done, they've walked down one of the main halls and out onto what actually feels like a street. Though if Caitlin looks up and pays close enough attention, she'll be able to tell that the night sky isn't quite real.

"Subsectors like this are between each of the main sectors. Come, we'll walk this way."

The street is a lot busier and there are a lot more people here in the evening. It feels a lot like New York or Hong Kong with how much bustle is going on. Bright lights are flashing off buildings, advertising Bouncy Bubble Beverages.

The thought of being afraid of Steve room being bugged almost made Morgana laugh. She would rather face charges of treason a hundred times than be confronted with the reality of her dreams coming back to her, haunting her like a ghost of all the people she hadn't been able to save.

The computer was just like Uther, and like Uther, she had found ways to be herself in spite of it's presence.

'I think? Sort of... I mean you could ask Barry I guess, I could wake the dead with my screams when I do have my dreams, I doubt the sleeping gas can compete with that.' if only it were so simple as just dreams. She doubted even the computer would care about those. She shook her head, hands still fidgetting in her lap as she turned to look at Steve, determined to spit it out and not stutter like a frightened child.

Just because she had barely been able to tell anyone at home didn't mean it had to be this way here, right? Right?!

'You remember those assignments we got on 102? To look after those "mutants" that were found out?' she asked, then hurried along, not giving him time to answer. 'I had this woman, a shapeshifter, she was a bit of a cow but I didn't think much of it at the time. But ever since that assignment I've felt, well, like I did at home. Not fully, but... it's like when you're not paying attention and someone brushes past you in the hall, you feel it but it's not like fully running into them. Like standing a little close to the fire, or. I don't know.' she swallowed, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to steady herself. 'A small touch, but not like being slapped.'

God, it would have been easier to tell him just about anything else, and not even because she was afraid of Steve, of all the people in here she had met he was one of the few she trusted without question, she wasn't even sure that torture would cause him to turn her in. No, it wasn't that.

It was the way people looked at her when they learned of her "affliction".

Gaius had watched her all her life like she was some ailing babe and madwoman all in one.

Merlin wouldn't even say the word "magic" to her even when she asked him.

Arthur handled her like she was a sick, delicate flower who didn't know the sky from the sea.

Even Gwen, dear, sweet, Guinevere. She looked at Morgana sometimes and Morgana had been able to see the pity, the sorrow, the disappointment that her mistress clearly wasn't "all there" in her mind.

Just thinking about their reactions and how Steve might look at her caused tears to well in her eyes, making them look glassy and wide as she tried not to blink, not to actually cry.

'I don't know how but I think my magic is coming back and if it is, even if only a little then I'm dangerous because I never got taught how to control it, what with Uther having executed everyone who could have possibly taught me. There was this woman... back home. Morgause. She was like me and I think she would have taught me but then I went and woke up here and as much as I distrust this place I have never been safer from myself or anyone else, I've never slept so well and now... What if what happened at home happens here? I could hurt my roommate or someone else. I could hurt you. I set my room on fire in Camelot one night, I had a horrible vision, and I guess it frightened me but I was alone and my room was on fire, I had to have done it. What if I hurt him, or someone else without even being awake?!'

There’s a way that his eyes widen when she brings up the mutants from 102. Of course. They’ve talked about her home before and how Morgana’s had dreams that often came true. Steve hadn’t known what to make of it at the time, but he’d certainly believed her. Given the people and powers he’s normally around back home, Morgana being able to see the future wasn’t a crazy idea.

Steve should have asked her if she’d felt something the next day, when she and Lydia were in his kitchen. But Morg had seemed to be in such a great mood, and at the time, Steve was still wondering if he’d made it up. Because truth is, he’d felt something too when he was guarding Xeno that day. After he’d gotten confirmation from Barry that he’d felt the same, Steve had been trying to find a way to get within proximity with another mutant ever since.

So when she describes the feeling of being close to power but not having it, he nods. He knows exactly what she means.

When Morgana pauses, he can see the tears in her eyes and Steve’s eyebrows narrow in concern. It wasn’t just feeling her powers. Something else was bothering her, he can see that now, and part of him wants to do anything in his power to help her feel better. He just doesn’t know what that could be.

“Whatever it is Morgana, we’ll deal with it.”

And then it all came spilling out. How Morgana was afraid of herself, how she couldn’t control what she’s capable of. It reminds him of too many people he knows.

“Don’t worry about hurting me, or Barry. Don’t start feeling guilty about things you haven’t done. Don’t put that on yourself.”

Steve might have woken up in the 21st century, but he still doesn’t feel it’d be appropriate for him to reach for her hand. Even if it’d make her feel better. Honestly, given where Morgana was from, Steve wondered if physical contact would actually make her feel worse.

“If your powers are really back, we can take this one day at a time.” He glances down for a moment before looking back up at her. “To tell you the truth, that day, I felt something too. I think it has something to do with how close we are to them — the people the Computer calls mutants. Do you-“ He’s thinking back to her answer from earlier. Morgana had told him to ask Barry whether or not she’d dreamed. She hadn’t directly told him she did.

“Do you remember having a dream on any day after 103?”

She notices the way he looks at the camera. Like at any moment, Oliver expects people to bust in and arrest them for being together. Or that somewhere, someone was recording this and they’d get it sent to them in the mail one day with a letter demanding a million credits. She’s scared of those things too — but Felicity’s just never been as good as him at hiding how she feels in front of other people.

The only time they remotely needed her acting skills was when Oliver took her to his mansion and told her that Slade had taken ‘the wrong woman.’ Everything about that moment had felt so real, even if Felicity knew that it wasn’t, because by then she’d wanted to hear those words for so long that she didn’t even have to act. The shock on her face was real.

But she’s also processing what he’s telling her now. Nine months is a long time, she knows that. A lot has happened in the last nine months she does remember, Felicity knows that too. Oliver says he needs time. Okay, that’s reasonable.

But Oliver also says he wants to go back to that place where they were just friends.

It’s involuntary, the twisting type of pain that was in her chest right now. A part of her subconscious has already figured out that something terrible must have happened in those months she can’t remember, something that would change her mind about whether she wants to stay together. But the confusing part was that Oliver just told her that she does choose to stay with him. And if she chooses him once, why wouldn’t she choose him again?

But Felicity doesn’t push. She’s waited for him before. Last time, she’d decided that enough was enough. But this time things are different, at least that’s what she’s telling herself. Unlike before, Oliver wasn’t telling her that they could never be together and she wasn’t waiting for something that would never come.

He just needs time, she repeats to herself. All he’s asking for is time.

So she let’s go. Felicity takes a step back, her hands running down Oliver’s arms as she moves, her fingers lingering on his hands before she retracts herself completely away from him.

“I’ll wait.” She doesn’t really try to hide the painful expression on her face. “Because I love you, and because I know there’s a lot going on.” She swallows. “But Oliver. Just know that I can’t-“ She doesn’t even want to say it, but Felicity knows she has to. She has to say this right now otherwise she won’t forgive herself later.

“I can’t … wait forever. I can’t go back to feeling that way about us. Like … we love each other but we’ll never be together.”

Caitlin's a bit slow to ask questions. Not that she's hesitant or worried that he'll find a question silly; it's more that she's focused on absorbing what he's saying, filing information away in her mind. She's quick on the uptake, having been a sponge her whole life (or her whole previous life, if there's some ring of truth to the cloning story) and soaking up what she can where and when she can. It helps that everything is pretty much what it says on the tin: armed services, power services.

It's efficient, at least.

When they step out into the "street," the sudden influx of stimuli is overwhelming. There's lights and crowds, and with crowds come that ever-present dull roar of chatter. For a moment, she worries that she's going to get swept up and swept away. Her hand reaches out, coming just short of grabbing Steve's arm before she lets it fall to her side.

"Is it always this busy?" Central City may have its moments, sure, but it falls far short of being anything like New York. It's the Midwest version of a big city.

She catches a bright blue flash of light in her peripheral vision. Her head snaps in its direction, her heart instantly set to racing as she sees — or would swear she sees — Zoom. But it's nothing. No one. Just an advertisement.

Felicity isn’t a physicist, not by any stretch of the imagination. But there were a few basics laws of physics that she knows to be real, and when the droid starts to fall forwards towards her, the science doesn’t compute. Her blaster shots, if they even had the ability to push a droid backwards, should still be pushing it backwards.

It isn’t until she hears Natasha’s voice that she looks down and notices the woman has her hand on the droid’s leg. If survival hadn’t taken over already, it certainly takes over now and Felicity rolls, hoping to God that she was actually rolling right and not left. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her arms are protecting her face when she hears the metal crushing against the floor. She winces, multiple times, when the droid’s arms hit the ground after its torso.

Feeling Natasha’s hand on her hers isn’t enough to get her to get back up, or even open her eyes. Her heart was pounding. What happened against the wall earlier was close, but this was closer. She actually could have died right then, she thinks, and that would have been it. So even if Natasha tugs, she just lays there for a minute, almost like dead weight.

Like dead weight trying to catch its breath.

She doesn’t see Natasha walk over to the droid and push it down with her foot, but she can hear it. She can also hear the shot, and the crackling of the ripped and newly exposed wires. Only then does she breathe again.

You can do this, she thinks to herself. You’ve been through worse. Get up.

One of her palms push up against the ground and Felicity manages to sit upright, glancing over at the droid with a hole in its head before she looks back at Natasha.

“Thank you,” she says, as she starts pushing herself to stand. The whole process is a little wobbly, but she gets there. “For saving me.”

The way he smiles about it — getting burned in the chest — it’s equal parts sweet and goofy, and apparently also infectious, because soon Felicity is smiling back with a little grin of her own, especially when he nudges her shoulder.

“Right there,” she says, pointing just two doors down from the common area. “One one ohhhhhh three.” She doesn’t know it yet, but that’s actually right across the hall from Derek’s 1104.

But to get there, they have to pass 1101, and if Derek will see her eyes linger with anxiety on that first door as they pass, like she’s scared someone inside is going to come out while she’s here.

After that, it doesn’t take anymore than 15 seconds for them to be right outside her door. “This is me,” she says as she turns to face her body towards. “Thank you for … everything Derek. It was … exactly what I needed.”

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Page 7 of 10

Daycycle 105 [ August 28 - September 03]

daycycle 105

[Aug 28 - Sept 3]

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