Title: De Profundis
Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)
Rating: I think this'll end up staying somewhere along the T/PG-13 area.
Comments: Wow, I didn't think this would be my first D.E.B.S. fic. But the idea just wouldn't leave me alone, so... Well, hopefully, someone will enjoy it. It is just a bit dark, so be warned.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.' That belongs to the fabulously talented Angela Robinson.
De profundis - Up from the depths (of misery)
Amy stared out at the sprawling city before her. She and her team had just wrapped up yet another mission, defeating some supervillan or other bent on world conquest. She hadn't been paying all that close attention at the briefing, not quite able to bring herself to care. All she knew was that he'd intended on starting with New York City, which the government had taken an especially dim view of, and that his plot had involved trout in some way.
It had been a year. To the day, in fact. One year since she had told Lucy to go. And she'd gone. There had been a few token attempts to get Amy's attention, but that was it. No grandiose gestures, no attempts to steal her away from her stifling existence, nothing.
So she'd swallowed her bile and read Max's speech, accepted her award, and let them use her as their poster child once again.
One year since the life that had threatened to crush her had finally succeeded.
She was supposed to be packing, she knew, for the flight back to L.A., but she could no longer summon up any enthusiasm to do even that.
Her friends. Her best friends. And they either didn't know or didn't care that this was killing her. Or perhaps, she sometimes thought, she was already dead. Perhaps she really had torn out her own heart and stomped it into paste reading that damned speech. It had certainly felt that way.
Perhaps this was hell. Her punishment for betraying Lucy.
Seven days. That was all that she'd spent with her love. But it had shown Amy that it would be impossible to live without her. But she had done just that anyway, for one year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
But she couldn't make it to three hundred and sixty-six.
She just couldn't.
Max smiled to herself as she closed up her suitcase. Her weapons, of course, had their own, larger, case.
She lived for this. One more lunatic taken down, one more mission completed. She and her squad would be flying back to Los Angeles shortly, knowing the world was just that much safer, because of them.
Life, quite simply, did not get any better.
Knowing by now just which Deb would require the most time and prodding to get ready, she carried her cases out of her room and walked down the hall to stop at another door. The hotel was one of the standard - one might almost say generic - places that the D.E.B.S. had them stay at on missions. Not overly expensive, but in good condition with a more-then-competent staff. Honestly, after so much time, they tended to start blurring together for Max.
She knocked on the door. "Janet! It's almost time to go!"
Janet, somewhat muffled, replied, "I just need to find my gun!"
Max sighed, glad that Janet couldn't see her fighting down a smile. Okay, where would Janet's gun most likely be? "Try under the bed, right hand side, near the top."
A long pause. "Ooh, hey! Thanks!"
She couldn't stop a chuckle. "You need to put a tracking device in that thing."
"I did." Another pause. "But I lost the tracker."
Max shook her head in fond exhasperation. "Just finish getting ready."
Dom, as always, proved easy enough to rouse. All she had to do was pound on the door a few times and call her, and she was soon rewarded with the sound of Dominique telling last night's celebration to get out.
Amy was a bit harder. No manner of knocking or yelling got her any kind of response. After a moment's hesitation, she used the master key that she had (as being squad leader did have some perks) and entered the room.
Either Amy had packed in record time, Max decided as she saw the suitcase neatly arranged on the bed, or she'd just never unpacked upon their arrival. Whichever it was, at least it meant that she wasn't going to have to fight with her teammate about being on time for their flight.
A quick search - very quick, as the rooms weren't very big - turned up Amy on the balcony. "There you are. Get in here, it's almost time to go."
"No."
She'd already been heading for the door, since she'd given the order. She was squad leader, after all, and some things just weren't discussions. And ever since the fiasco with Diamond, Amy had been unhesitating in following her orders.
The blunt refusal, therefore, came as enough of a surprise to stop her dead in her tracks. "Excuse me?"
"I said no."
Max felt her anger stirring, but also something else. There was just something... not quite right with Amy's tone. Not insubordination, as one might have expected from her words, but... She wasn't sure what. "Why not?"
"Why should I?"
It was getting harder to reign in her temper, but years of experience had (finally) taught her that it was much harder getting answers if both of you were angry and fighting. And she wanted to know just what that was in Amy's voice. "If you don't, how do you expect to get back in?"
"I'm not coming in."
Max frowned. Amy just sounded so... blank. Emotionless. Non-Amy, in other words. Frankly, it was beginning to disturb her. "Why not?"
Amy didn't answer that, instead just leaning on the metal railing that fenced in the balcony that Amy's room shared with the one next door. "I'm sorry, Max," she finally said.
"For what?" Her anger was draining away, being replaced by worry. Apathy, that's what was in her voice. A lack of concern for just about everything. But now she turned to face Max, smiling sadly, and Max could see a tear streak down her face. It didn't look like the first one, either.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted. What everyone wanted. The 'Perfect Score'. I tried, I swear I did. I tried to forget. About her, about everything. It just won't work. I can't... I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. If you don't believe anything else I've ever said, please believe that."
Her spine felt like it had been dipped in ice. She inhaled shakily as Amy turned back to face the city, the entire situation becoming crystal clear. Amy's tears, her lack of concern stemming from the fact that very soon nothing would matter, her location.
Amy was going to jump.