in the dead of night.

Ethan rubbed at his jaw. “It’s not really one of those missions that needs backup. More just company.” He eyed her carefully, gaze following Ophelia’s down to her leg and back up. The circumstances were far from ideal, but there wasn’t anyone he’d rather bring with him. Whatever happens up there, Ophelia would understand. “I wouldn’t ask you to do something if I thought it was too dangerous, or you couldn’t handle it.”

@sosophelia

“Up for an adventure?” Ethan sat down next to her with a sigh, letting himself sink into the couch. It was nice to be off his feet, if only for a few minutes. Ophelia looked well – or well enough, given the circumstances. From what he could tell her leg was healing nicely, and any cuts or bruises were things of the past. He pressed into the worn cushions and got a better look at her. Same old Ophelia. Shannon. Fee, if you were Sybil.

“I need someone to come up with me to Boston. Can’t tell anyone about it, can’t talk about it after we get back. Just you, me, and the road until we get there. That sound okay to you?”

She was going to crack a joke, but the sincerity in Ethan’s voice made her pause. She looked down at her leg, for once feeling like she was somehow lacking, and shrugged. “Don’t you want to take someone who can actually help? If something goes sideways, I’m a sitting duck. What, is this like a solo mission or something?”

She was sitting by herself, kicking rubble and humming every once in a while. Her straw had been chewed beyond saving and it struggled through to provide her the strawberry milkshake, or what was left of it. Regardless, she was in a good mood though it was likely the bourbon she had poured into the shake beforehand. It hadn’t been a lot but enough to accept the upcoming conversation based on footsteps approaching. Even if they were only passing by, she was going to talk. 

“Do you think there’s someone out there that can generate milkshakes whenever they want one? I’d want that. Or alcohol. No — both. Dude it’d be so sweet if we could exchange powers. Like Pokémon cards. Here, have my Ditto and I’ll take your Eevee.”

Ophelia had been going outside for some much-needed fresh air. Despite the gigantic hole in the back of their building, it felt stuffy and dusty and it was easier to get around in and amongst the plants then it was rough wood and concrete. She paused by Noah. “We have a mimic, if that’s what you’re asking. But powers aren’t separate from the person; they are the person.”

Farrah finally made her way into the kitchen, leaning forward onto the counter there. “Yeah, we have quite a few things that need picked up on this next supply run. We’ll need more people to go with him too, whether he wants them or not. I don’t blame you on the tea though, everything needs sweetened now adays.” Turning she pressed her back against the counter instead, crossing her arms. “Depends. In the tech room? Where at?”

“I guess that is true,” Farrah gave the younger girl a small smile, shortly followed by a small roll of her eyes at her joke. “I’m glad you’re able to be more light hearted about all of this, not many people are having as easy of a time with it. Though, I don’t blame them.” Her smile grew a bit at the offer, nodding towards Ophelia. “I’m exhausted, so I would love some tea.”

Bridget still had trouble sitting up completely, so she couldn’t quite see the damage done until Ophelia pointed it out with a lift of her skirt. Immediately the blonde’s eyes widened, then softened; she could feel tears pricking behind them in concern for her friend. However, she tried to hold back and remain strong; after all, Ophelia seemed to be doing well considering. “Oh my, I had no idea, Ophelia. I’m so sorry.” She raised her knees, making space at the foot of her bed in case Ophelia wanted to take a seat. “Still, I hate that you had to go through that. Was it from the explosion?” Her words came out gently, and chosen precisely. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Ophelia smiled at Bridget and took her offer of a seat. She slid her crutches underneath the bed and arranged her skirt so it fanned out along the threadbare sheets of the cot. She leaned back on her elbows. “It’s not too bad, to be honest. A beam fell on me, crushed it completely. I was out of it for the most part, so it didn’t really hurt. Lots of people where I come from are missing parts; it doesn’t feel as weird to me as everyone here makes it out to be.” She nudged Bridget. “What about you? I think I saw Daemon here a while ago.” She waggled her eyebrows.

When she saw who she had ran into her lips turned down into a frown. She hadn’t gotten to really see any of the wounded yet, so seeing Ophelia made her heart sink. “Let me get it,” she said, reaching down and picking up the crutch. “No need to do any extra work right now.” She gave the younger girl a soft smile then held the crutch out, more in an offer to help her get it back right. “Sorry for the run in. I was just trying to go get some water and I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.” Water, tea, coffee, honestly she just needed a break and something to help the dry throat she now had. “How have you been doing? Don’t you think you should have gotten a little more rest?”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or…?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. “But yes, I was. About nine years ago. But then, things turned crazy, and I ended up having to hide. Until I found this place. I forgot almost everything by now, so I don’t think she’d be able to find a job suitable to my knowledge.”

“Hey, save that for the real heroes. I’m just a guy with a gun.” He grinned at her and nodded. “Walden’s been sad for four fucking years, I think I’m allowed to take up one of the shifts for a while. But, yeah, I’ll be there. Whenever Leadership decides I can be, at least. You know how they are.” Ethan pat the top of her head, fixing her with his typical smile-smirk and nudging her back the way she came.

She frowned playfully when he nudged her, scrunching up her face like a child having a tantrum might, but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she left, she dropped her crutches and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t leave,” she whispered fiercely into his ear. “We can’t survive without you.”

Ethan refrained from parroting his it’s my job line. They both knew it was a different circumstance between them. He smiled at her kiss, bending down to meet her half way. It was nice to have someone who cared so fiercely without hangups or conditions. Someone who genuinely wanted to know if he was okay.

“While I appreciate your willingness to help out, I’d feel better knowing you weren’t down in this hole with me, and up with the rest of civilisation. Thanks for, uh, checking up on me, though. It’s nice to see you’re doing okay, all things considered.”

Ophelia patted his shoulder and rocked back on her heel. It was hard for her to see him this way, but she knew he needed to feel some sort of sadness at some point or it was likely he would explode. She worried about what might happen if Sybil didn’t come back, though, but didn’t mention that to him.

“Whatever you say, captain.” She gave him a two-finger salute. “If I have to go back up, then you’re going to eat dinner with us, yeah? Get someone else to be sad for an hour, like Walden.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows at the use of his real name, but said nothing. Emotion caught on the back of his throat, and he was reluctant to speak for fear of saying something else regretful. Despite himself, he opened his mouth again. “She has to. She has – I don’t know – I cannot let myself think about any other alternative.”

He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “You should head back to the main recovery area. It’s not safe to be around here, and I’m sure Sara’d like to do a million more tests on you.”

Ophelia stood on her tip-toe and placed a deliberate kiss on his nose; it was all she could reach anyway. She patted the top of his hair, normally coiffed to perfection but now in slight disarray and covered in dust from the rattled walls that marred the otherwise normal-looking compound. 

“My protector,” she said sweetly. “So kind of you to think or me, but Sara has even driven me crazy. Why do you think I’m here and not in the infirmary? She can’t run tests on a leg I don’t have. I could help you patron. These things are good in a fight.” She gestured with one of her crutches.

“I don’t really have that kind of luxury right now.” He took a step back from her, running a hand through his hair. It was slick with sweat and oil. The last time he showered must have been before the explosion. Ethan fixed Ophelia with an expression somewhere resignation and frustration. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand, but he couldn’t be bothered to explain it.

“So fucking much. And the fact that I don’t know where she is – that no one knows? It’s killing me, Shannon. But I can’t do anything about it. I can’t leave. God knows I can’t go digging through the rubble with my bare hands like everyone else. I’m just – I’m drowning, and I will be until I can see her again. If –” He swallowed the end of his thought and turned away.

“Oh Greg,” Ophelia said, laying a hand on his cheek with a gentleness she didn’t employ often with others. Her eyes shimmered with tears. “You’re such a romantic.”

She could see the way he and Sybil looked at each other, as if they were drowning in the desert. It wasn’t a soft love like she’d seen before, but something ferocious; almost primal. They needed each other in ways she couldn’t fathom. She lightly ran her thumb across his cheekbones. “She loves you, too. She’ll come back.”

After several hours of working in the tech room, trying to clean and repair things, Farrah needed a break. She would have loved to go help down in the west wing with all the people, but she wasn’t sure if she was in the right state of mind to do so. She had used her power so much within the few hours, fixing as much of the tech as she could that she was practically drained at this point. Making her way to the kitchen area to get some water, she turned a corner and ended up bumping into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She took a step back from them. “Guess I am too tired to be paying attention right now.” She said quietly. 

Ophelia didn’t want to feel useless, but she was moving at half the speed she usually did and there were so many others who could do things better, faster. After a morning of helping out the wounded, she decided that tea would be a good idea. She’d been blasting through the stash that Ethan had gotten for her; when there wasn’t something to do, there was tea. She bumped into Farrah and attempted to spring back but lost her footing, one of her crutches clattering to the ground. 

“Oh, no problem,” Ophelia said as she reached down to pick it back up. “I’m pretty clumsy now.”

“Me? Oh, no, certainly not. That would be… unethical.” He said, obviously joking. Because that was exactly what he meant. “As long as no one knows. I don’t think I’d be let back in med school if they heard about this. Not that I plan, or can, go back there anytime soon.”

Ophelia giggled and rolled her eyes. “You went to med school? You sure as shit don’t look it. I don’t think they’re letting a lot of mutants practice these days, certainly not ones on the run. But you might want to go ask Sara about a job. They call her Doctor Death because she’s scary, but I think she’s nice.”

It worried Bridget that she hadn’t seen many familiar faces. She hoped that just meant the people she had met were safe and not in the infirmary too. She wished the next few days to be back on her feet again. It was was her head and neck, after all. A familiar voice brought the blonde from her thoughts. It was getting easier to sit up better, but she still had to use a pillow to keep her head propped. “Thank you, Ophelia,” she smiled at the girl, giving a slight nod. “I certainly won’t be protesting that.”

Giving a little chuckle, she reached for the cup, letting the warmth heat up her hands. She hadn’t seen Ophelia for a while, and that’s when Bridget noticed the crutches. Her smile faded, and her stare softened. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt in the explosion?” she asked, worriment clear in her expression. Ophelia was the one on crutches; Bridget felt like she should be the one taking care of her.

It felt silly to have Bridget ask what was wrong with her, but then Ophelia realized that she had a longer skirt on and the angle that Bridget was at in her cot made it so she couldn’t see. With a sheepish smile, Ophelia lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal open air. “I’m fine, my leg’s gone, but that’s not my problem anymore.” She rocked back and forth on her crutches as she used to on her heels. “I won’t become a track star anytime soon, but I wasn’t planning on climbing trees for a living or anything.”

Bridget felt a bit pathetic just laying in her cot – bed, whatever it was, and resting when others were out there missing or possibly suffering. However, her head still wasn’t in great shape; she could ignore the burning sting of the bloody cut on her cheek, but her head was another thing. Whenever she tried to sit up for long she felt wobbly, the pain growing and the room would spin a little. Plus, she knew Daemon would be upset with her if she didn’t rest, and she didn’t want to let him down. She just hated feeling helpless. Even reading wasn’t coming easy to her; she couldn’t focus for very long. Bridget began dozing off, about the only thing she could do at the moment, but approaching footsteps had bright eyes fluttering open as she tried to see who it was even from the awkward angle at which she was propped up. 

Ophelia had been helping in the med bay despite Sara’s protests. She didn’t need to be bed-ridden, that much was true, and once she got the hang of the crutches, it was just like it was before. Or somewhat like it was before, minus a leg. 

“I made you some tea,” she said, setting a mug next to Bridget’s cot. “I added something to relieve pain, if that’s alright.”