Chapter 75: Lifeboat

Anxious, jittery chatter fills Janine's farmhouse. I can hear snippets of different conversations from around the living room, all the runners talking about the different things going on in their lives.

Because of yesterday's mission success, Janine has allowed the runners to have a celebration of it in her home. She even allowed us to open up a bottle of some good, expensive sounding wine. And a lot of people liked that, since alcohol is hard to come by, and good alcohol is nearly impossible.

I wouldn't know if it's actually good though. I declined the offer of whatever brand it was called and am simply sipping on a cup of water instead, watching as everyone else giggles and talks about what we've done and what we plan on doing.

I think this celebration is a bit premature, to be honest, but I realize just as well we should celebrate the small victories. Plus I've been told by a few others that this is also a celebration for me, since I'm back, and immune to mind control, and, in their eyes, I'm slowly getting better-less and less nightmares, fewer and fewer breakdowns with each passing day.

They think because they simply said they don't blame me, I'm suddenly better, all the trauma gone as if it never even happened.

I scoff. How stupid of them.

But I let them celebrate. I let them think I'm fine. I let them come over to me in my little corner and tell me how glad they are that I'm back. Even Cameo came up to me and said I'm more than welcome to take back my Head of Runners position when I'm ready.

But I'm not ready, and it was Janine who stripped me of my title. I'd rather it be her to tell me when I get it back, if I get it back. I'm not even sure I want it back.

I've never been a leader. I never wanted to be a leader. I'm a good follower, a good runner. I do my job well but only when I know what I'm supposed to do. I do what I'm told...

I proved that at the AMTB as a runner and Torrencer, at Mullins as a runner, and as a soldier for Moonchild.

I'm not meant to be in charge.

So I stay quiet. I don't let anyone know what's going on on the inside. I don't let them know how guilt still threatens to eat me alive, how I still hear their voices in my head, how I still hear Moonchild's voice in my head. Only Sam knows about that, but even he doesn't know how a part of me misses her.

It's weird. I hate her. I absolutely despise her, but I still miss her-I miss that feeling of happiness. I feel sad and happy when I think of her. I feel disgusted yet content when I think there was a time I felt no guilt.

I feel too much.

"You look like your head's about to explode."

I look up at sea green eyes, the owner of the pair standing in front of me, glass of wine in her hand, barely drank.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, voice flat, and Summer smirks.

"You forget we're from the same place. I can see straight through you." She hands her glass out to me. "I think you need it more than I do."

"I don't drink."

"You do tonight."

I stare at her for a long moment, before sighing and taking the glass from her. I take a sip of the red liquid, rolling it around on my tongue. It's sweet, oddly enough-fruity almost. I swallow, then take another sip, ignoring the thought that I will most definitely regret this when I'm reading my Bible tonight.

"Why did you come to talk to me?" I ask. "We aren't exactly friends, no offense."

"None taken. And I come over to you because you and I both know this celebration is stupid and irrelevant. We haven't won. We've just tipped the scales in our favor. We both know what happens when we celebrate prematurely; We're caught off guard. And we end up losing more than we gained. We can't go into our next mission thinking we have this."

"Yeah, I know. But I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about anything tonight."

She grins. "Then you're going to need more than one glass of wine."

I shake my head. "I don't think so. I'd rather not get drunk my first time drinking."

"Well, that's no fun."

"I've never considered myself a fun person."

"That's obvious." She pauses, eyeing me for a short moment. "Does Moonchild know about your... abilities?"

"You mean the fact that I'm sometimes stronger than the average human?" I mutter quietly.

"You dented metal with a single punch. 'Stronger than the average human' is an understatement."

"Keep your voice down," I hiss, casting a nervous glance around. Fortunately for me, no one heard her. I'm already considered different because I can't get sick, and while they say they don't blame me for what I did, I know I'm seen in a different light by most. I'd rather not be considered even more of a freak than I already am.

"And I don't remember telling her anything about it. But since I can't remember much of anything, well... I can't say that's a secure answer. But I feel like she would've wanted me to use these abilities if she knew I had them." I tilt my head to the side in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

She simply shrugs. "Just curious, and if she does know, if you think she might know, then you might want to tell your friends about this. Wouldn't want her letting the cat out of the bag for you, right?"

"Since when did you care about me or my friends?" I take a final sip of wine before setting it down. It's not that I don't want the last bit of it, but I feel as if I drink anymore I might be able to convince myself that another glass isn't that bad, and then possibly another and another, and I don't need that.

"Since you made a dent in metal. And you and I both still have our agreements. I wanted to ask as well if you happened to tell Moonchild just who you were before coming to England."

"What part of 'I don't remember anything' don't you understand? And even if I did tell her anything, I highly doubt I would've mentioned you, since, you know, we haven't actually talked in a very long time, and again, I wouldn't consider us actual friends."

"And yet you accepted the glass of wine I offered?"

I raise one shoulder in a half shrug. "If you poisoned it, then I'll know soon enough. I may be better and trying to do what I can to stop Moonchild, but I still know what I deserve."

She tsks. "You really do want to die, don't you?"

"I want to stop feeling everything at once. But I don't want to feel just happy because... you know, but I obviously don't want to feel guilty, even though I don't-I don't deserve to... I just-I don't want to feel anything, not right now."

Suddenly everything is too loud, too real. I stand, my body feeling warm and slightly fuzzy. I can only guess it's from the little bit of alcohol I had. I try to walk off, but Summer grabs my arm, her eyes cold and vicious.

"I would rethink that desire you have, and remember the last time you were told not to feel anything. I know it's hard to have a heart when you've stopped so many others, but you were one of the few that they didn't break."

I sneer at her, wrenching out of her grasp as the lights become too bright, the sounds of conversation too loud. "You're wrong."

"I'm right. If they'd made you into the thing they were trying to create, you wouldn't have cared about what you did. You and I both know what they made people into. If they'd succeeded in breaking you, you would only be upset because you destroyed an ally that could have helped in stopping Moonchild.

"You didn't let them make you into a monster. You didn't let Van Ark or Moonchild make you into a monster. Why would you make yourself into one?"

I have no words to say, so I turn around and briskly walk away. The lights and the chatter are too much. I feel a sudden overwhelming need to get out of here-to run away into the quiet and the darkness, away from people and everything that comes with them. My chest tightens, my breathing quickens, and all I want is to get out of here.

I keep my gaze a head, giving polite nods at those who call out my name, trying to get a few words from me. I bite my lip to keep from letting out any kind of noise as tears flood my eyes.

What's happening?

I place a hand over my chest, pain suddenly spiking from the area. I can't think. I can't breathe.

I have to get out of here.

My steps become faster, more frantic as I feel myself losing control. It's as if every single emotion is tied together by a thread that's seconds away from snapping.

I can't lose control, not here, not now.

The exit's so close now. Just a little bit further.

But then there's a hand on my shoulder. I spin around, adrenaline rushing, every fiber in my being screaming to just run-just leave. But I can't, not with Sam and Jody and Kytan all looking at me with bright eyes and happy smiles, completely oblivious to the fact that I'm seconds away from cracking.

"Five, were are you goin'? The party's just getting started," Jody says, but I don't look at her for too long. Her face is covered in bruises from when I... attacked her-attacked Abel. And there's no makeup around here-no good makeup anyway, so there's nothing to cover them up.

"I-I'd hardly call this a party," I stammer, my voice shaking. Fear creeps into my veins, my blood. My chest gets tighter, pain splintering off to my limbs.

"Yeah, just wait until someone sneaks around and finds a couple more bottles of wine," Sam snickers. "I think one more glass and Kytan will be attempting to do a black flip off a table."

"Is that a challenge?" He says, slurring slightly, and Sam shakes his head frantically.

"No! Do not do that. Janine would probably kill all of us if something ended up getting broken. You know hard it is to come by nice things in an apocalypse." He turns back to me with a grin. "Why are you leaving so early, though? This is a sort of celebration for you too. We are really happy that you're back."

"I, uh, I just-just really," I'm panting now. I can barely breathe. "I'm just really tired. I'm gonna go... to bed."

Sam frowns, his eyebrows furrowing as he finally starts to see the signs that things aren't quite right.

"Five, are you okay?"

"I-I-"

I snap.

A noise akin to a sob leaves my lips, and pain explodes in my chest.

Run.

Suddenly my feet are moving my body towards the door.

Run!

Then my legs are pumping like my life depends on it.

I hear them calling out to me, running after me as a sprint out of Janine's farmhouse and through the streets of Abel. Fear and pain and panic flood through me. I don't what I'm afraid of. I don't why I'm panicking, but I have to run.

All I ever do is run.

"I'm not gonna let her kill herself."

My eyes flutter around frantically. That's Sam's voice.

"Simon... you'll die."

There's a laugh from Three.

"Yeah. Yeah. That's the plan."

"It'll be excruciating, Simon."

And that's Janine.

"Look down, Five. Really look."

I gasp, tears still running down my face, my legs still pumping as voices echo in my head, pounding against my skull.

Moonchild.

"Five, slow down!" Jody calls, but I keep running.

"You know why they say you shouldn't look down when you're climbing? It's not because it'll scare you; It's because it'll make you want to fall."

"Five!"

"Now your aura's gold, do you know that, Five? Gold like the sun. We're both heading in the same direction, man, but I bet I'll get there first."

"Five!"

"Race ya."

I collapse, my knees buckling under the pressure, the absolute horror that fills my body.

I gasp for air, one hand coming up to put pressure against my chest, easing the pain slightly. My eyes stay focused on the ground, and I don't move when Sam and Jody and Kytan catch up to me.

"Five, are you alright?" Kytan asks, but I don't reply. I can't. "Do I need to go get the doc?"

"No," Jody says. "I think she's havin' a panic attack. Just breathe, Five. Deep breaths. In and out. It's okay."

But it isn't.

After a few minutes, when I'm finally able to move again, after my breathing's gone back to normal, I look up at the three with tears stained cheeks. Sam goes to place his hand on my shoulder, but I all but attack him into a hug, pulling him as close to me as possible.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. I'm here. You're gonna be alright," He says, slightly startled by my actions. I just hug him tighter, and I whisper three words into his ear, and I feel him tense up in my arms.

"I saw something."

•

I sit on the floor of the kitchen, sipping a bottle of water that Sam insisted I drink. Jody and Kytan are still here, just in the mess hall, chattering away about what Kytan wants on his sweater since Jody's agreed to make him one.

I think they left us alone because they know Sam's the person I'm most comfortable with, but they're staying close enough that they can catch me if I have another... incident.

That's what I told them it was.

That's what they believe it was, and I'll let them believe it. It's best they don't know.

"Here," Sam says, offering me a bowl. I expect it to be something like cereal or something, but to my delight it has two or three spoonfuls of peanut butter in it. I gasp.

"I thought we ran out of this forever ago!"

"We did, but I wanted to get you something you liked for Christmas, but then after you left, Janine forced me to give it all to the kitchens since..."

"She didn't think I'd be coming back."

"Yeah. I didn't, of course, but... yeah."

He takes a glance into the mess hall, and then sinks down beside me when he sees that the two are keeping each other entertained. Well, Kytan's going on about his great ninja skills while Jody mumbles an occasional 'yeah' and 'mhmm'.

"So, about what you saw, er, heard I guess, what do you think Moonchild meant by... that? And don't tell me nothing or not to worry about it because I have every right to be worried about you."

"I don't know," I say, pulling my knees close to my chest, unable to keep eye contact. "She said something about being high up, and how it makes you want to fall. I... is she going to try to kill us both when she fails?"

"Is that how you saw yourself die when you had that other vision?"

"No, actually."

"Then you can't do that, right? Like, your visions, they can't contradict themselves, right?"

I grab at an invisible backpack strap. "They might, um, maybe... possibly could if I changed my fate. I know I said I didn't think I could change it, but before I... before Moonchild got ahold of me, I saw something-I was a little older, but fine. Like, older than I was when I saw myself die. Or at least, I felt older-just a little bit."

"So you think your fate is ever changing?"

I nod.

He sighs and rubs his eyes. "Great, so we might have stopped you from dying in a few years, and now you might just die sooner because of Moonchild."

"I won't be the only one though," I say after swallowing a mouthful of peanut butter and chugging some water.

He purses his lips. "See, that's what I don't get either. Isn't Simon immortal?"

"Well, whatever is going to happen is something that can kill an immortal apparently. Maybe he's going to get hit with a rocket launcher. I don't know. I just... I know what I heard, and I... don't know what I can do to stop it."

"I don't either, but I'm still going to try to do something."

"To stop me from getting hurt, or to stop Simon from dying?"

He stares at me for a moment. "Did you really just ask me that?"

"I just... with what he did for me, I thought..."

"Why do you want us to forgive him so badly? I mean, I know you care about him, and he's helped you, but didn't you say Amelia said they did that because it wasn't good for them that you were under the mind control?"

I shrug. "Yeah, but he didn't have to drive me back to Abel. Simon didn't have to chase after me after I ran off. There's still light in him."

He crosses his arms and scoffs. "I don't know how you convince yourself to believe that after what he's done."

"The same way you believe that about me after what I've done."

He chokes, before quickly trying to stammer something along the line of Simon and I are nowhere near the same, even though it's actually the opposite. But I don't say anything. I simply finish off my peanut butter and water and stand, ignoring how tight my legs feel from that sprint earlier.

I tilt my head to the side, eyes narrowing when I see how desperate and frustrated Sam is getting over not being able to get his words right. Finally he settles on a quiet, "It's different."

"How so?"

"It-It just is. My relationship with you is much different than your relationship with Three."

"How? I'm his friend; You're mine. There's no difference."

He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again, his eyes flashing with something I don't quite understand. There's something he's not saying, but considering how I don't want to have any arguments tonight, I decide not to question it. Instead I grab his hand, which is incredibly warm compared to how cold my hand is, and offer a small smile.

"Why don't we head back to the party? I'm sure people are beginning to wonder where the four of us went."

"A-are you sure?" He questions, concern swirling in his eyes. "It's okay if you want to stay here or go back to the dorms."

I shake my head. "It's okay. Besides, we probably need to go rescue Jody. I think-with how long Kytan's been talking about learning to do a backflip-she's ready to strangle him."

He laughs. It's such a nice sound, really. Much nicer than everything else I've heard over the last few days.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Come on."

When we open the door and head into the mess hall, Jody instantly jumps up, her eyes lighting up like Christmas lights.

"Hey, are you guys ready to go?" She asks, ignoring Kytan when he tries to start talking again.

"I think we are," Sam replies. "Five said she's feeling much better now."

"Great." She grins, but it quickly turns into a smirk when she sees our interlocked hands. Sam's quick to say it's simply because my hands are cold, and I send the blonde a glare while praying I'm not blushing too badly.

"Come on then," She says, still smirking. "Hopefully they'll still be some wine left."

I pull my hand away from Sam's. 'After all that time she had to listen to Kytan, I think she needs it.'

He snickers. 'I think anyone would.'

I look down at my hands, my smile fading. Funny how only a year ago I was getting treatments for my throat, my voice. For two years these hands were the only way I could communicate. I never thought I'd speak again. I never thought I'd sing again...

And in my hallucinations, I couldn't speak. In my hallucinations I was told me getting my voice back was just in my head-that I never would get to speak again...

The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

But still, I thought I would never get to speak again, and yet I still choose to use sign language sometimes.

Funny. I thought I'd never really do that-choose to use my hands rather than my voice.

Sam pokes me with his elbow, and I look at him questionably.

'Are you okay?' He signs, and I smile.

"I'm fine."

A/N: Here you are, guys! It took a little longer than I'd hoped but it's here! Hope you like it! Please be sure to vote and comment!

Also this chapter is dedicated to skyler0425

Y'all have a blessed day!