Lemons

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."

Amygdala Circuit

All the tension inside of Quinn's body drained out and she slumped backwards. She leaned against the wall at an awkward angle and there was a sharp clicking sound as her plugs rattled against the drywall. Somehow that sound—that feeling—had become familiar to her. Not even familiar; comforting. And something about that made her so horribly upset.

"...Did I really?"

She went quiet. Thinking about something. The expression on her face steadily became more and more drawn. Minutes passed before she pulled herself upright again, looking...not at Dahlia, but in her general direction.

"Besca said she told you about the water."

She took three deep breaths. Then slowly, almost meditatively, she picked up her braid and reached behind it with both hands, just above the main neural plug. Fiddled with something.

"...They said it was because I looked outside."

The fiddling ceased. The knot came undone.

In dead silence, the eyepatch peeled away from her face and fluttered to her lap like a mourning ribbon, revealing an eye socket that was absolutely mangled. And not just the socket; her entire right orbital and then some was covered in ragged white scar tissue. Her one functioning eye remained downcast.

"I don't—know what really happened to it. I don't think it was good."

She grazed her hand over it, feeling the unfamiliar, uncomfortable skin. Thick. Callused. Almost numb to the touch.

"I've never taken it off before. I've never even seen it."

Then slowly, almost unwillingly, she raised her head and looked her sister straight on. Her eye—the one that still worked, anyway—barely held back a tsunami of sorrow and despair.

"...Why did this have to happen, Dahlia?"

Amygdala Circuit

"There’s been some…developments. She’s still here. She’s in holding."

Quinn frowned. She didn't like that.

She didn't like any of that.

From what little she remembered of Dahlia's rescue—god she was like a superhero—she distinctly recalled that Roaki was going to have to have—have her leg cut off. She thought. She had no illusions that people on the Aerie would like her, but...

Frustration nipped at her heels, and her visible brow slanted with a barely-visible combination of irritation and confusion. "Why is she in a holding cell instead of in medical after what happened? That just seems...cruel."

And that was an excellent way of distracting herself from the other thing Besca had said. Developments. What did developments mean? At least she was alive, but the vagueness was enough to set Quinn's teeth on edge. Her stomach dropped out from under her as the thought of something terrible happening—some horrible complication, a growth in her heart, something like that—bled through her body like dye.

She freed herself from the wall and unwound herself, sitting on the edge of the bad instead, staring at the floor. The satisfaction and...glee that she'd felt when she'd taken Blotklau's legs off ricocheted through her head. A deep breath. Two. Three.

When she looked up, her face was writ with sheer mulish stubbornness. Don't even try to change my mind, it seemed to say.

"I'm going to see her today. Soon."