AN: I apologize for the delay. Hope this chapter makes it up to you guys! I'll be updating this story probably every 5 days since I'm not a frequent updater. It's also the end of the semester so I'll be getting a lot of studying down for exams.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prototype.
Chapter 2: A New Episode
There was a cataclysmic pulse of pain shooting through his body as screams fill the air.
A thick, dark substance leak it's way out of his mouth muting the cries of pain.
As it hits the ground, small tendrils start to find their way out of the puddle of mass.
"The fuck?"
Sometimes there's no escaping the depths of horror in the world. Sometimes, you just have to let it be. However, you always have to face it.
You could walk about your daily lives and not give a shit about the homeless man sitting next to your apartment lobby entrance. You could just laugh, while others are only so generous enough to donate 2 dollars. Those things mattered in the world, even if you couldn't open your eyes to see it.
Now, however, everything has changed. You are more selfish than what used to be. Nowadays, since the infection has broken out the second time, you and plenty of others only care about living. It's ironic, actually, considering that the ones who were sitting at your doorstep are probably dead, and only you can fill their shoes.
'Finally, shit's done and over with.'
Heavy feet slam against the weak asphalt, supporting the large man. It cracks like ice as he makes contact. With an easy hop, he's in the air.
His destination is in view as he abruptly lands on another rooftop, sprinting towards the secret entrance on the top of the building.
He stops close to the edge of the building and looks down, watching sick civilians grudge past another, looking for a place to go, family to find. He feels pity for them.
The man sighs and turns back to walk quietly, careful not to not make loud, blunt steps. As he reaches for the doorknob, a sharp pain stabs his gut.
Gasping, he lurches over and grabs his stomach, clinging to it in pain. Suddenly, it disappears, as quickly as it came. Forgetting the episode, he grabs hold of the knob, and twists it open.
It's 6pm, and dishes clutter in the sink.
Amaya had recently finished her microwaved lasagna which had been sitting on the white, marbled counter for the past 15 minutes, while Dana had finally gotten to drink her overdue coffee.
"Dana, I'm back."
With a silent sweep of the door and a click, James Heller enters the apartment.
Dana perks up to the sound, and places her cold coffee on the counter desktop. It was common for him to come around this time. With a smirk, she looks up at the analog clock mounted on the wall.
Confused, his eyes find what she is staring at, and deliberately sighs.
"I'm pretty predictable, ain't I?"
"Right on time," she remarked.
Heller examines the barren room, expecting to catch a certain someone by the name Amaya, only to find a stash of bright coloured pencils and paper lying on the coffee table in between Dana and the couch.
"Where is she?"
"She's taking a bath at the moment, dinner got her all messy. Why don't you sit down," she gestures to the couch in front of her.
As directed, and makes his way to the couch, obeying the commands of his latter friend.
Although they had lived with each other for only 2 weeks, she seemed comfortable enough to get smart with him, and eventually, take over the entire apartment. He was used to it, though, since women have a strange tendency of being the ones in charge.
"Well, how was it?" she asked. This was the routine. He would leave in the morning, come home around 6, and talk. Although their routine was repetitive, she often tried to spice it up by changing her questions. This one, however, was used about 3 times already.
"It was the same as ever, just more work to do."
At the lack of information, Dana frowns.
"But, there was some fucked up idea I got."
Break.
"Yeah?" she hoped, that Heller had some work for her to do. She was desperately tired of sitting on her ass all day doing jack shit.
"I had a thought. I've been doing some patrols in the Red Zone, and I remember some weird information Sgt. Aleks Markovic heard at a briefing."
She urgently gestured for him to continue, literally hopping in her seat.
"The Marines in the RZ are too lazy to clean some blocks contradicted from the Dead Zone, and instead are too busy being patrolled around by Blackwatch collecting random civilians for lab testing. Markovic and his team witnessed a few of the mutants lying low."
"...and?"
"It was a fucking ambuscade."
Tension filled the air.
"So what, are you trying to say that the infected are thinking?" she sat up, taking in the information Heller had explained to her. This concept was alarming, and should be taken into some extreme consideration.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to say." he said.
This was not so easily determined in a person's mind. Somehow humanity just had to get fucked the third time. Talk about third times charm.
Toggles of aggressive behaviour leaked into Dana's mind. It was something that she could not help, something her brother had. It was inherited from her mother, after all. Still, her former self was coming back, and she wanted to scream. She wanted Alex back, she wanted her old job back. She was sick of sitting in the apartment with no life. Her decisions were limited, stagnant, she needed more options. She needed some time alone, too, some time to herself.
Thoughts. Thinking is what she doesn't need at the time. Negative thoughts from which had been exercised out of her mind are dubiously finding their way in, echoing in the trails of their superior trial of mind.
"Heller, can I ask for a favour?"
"Uh yeah. What is it?"
With a heavy exhale, she replied. "Maybe tomorrow, can you bring Amaya outside? It's been so long since she's spent time with her father. She's always asking to go to the park, but because of my hostile reputation, I can't find myself to put her into danger."
Hesitantly, he nodded. "Sure."
With her wish granted, the lingering effect of relief effected her zen. "Great," she smiled.
It was quiet. Dana's hands were forming a layer of sweat. Her hands clasped, she stands up.
"I'm gonna go check on Amaya. You need to rest."
Her figure walks casually towards the washroom. Even though she walks with confidence, he could easily suspect an inch of terror in her shaky stride. As she closes the washroom door behind her, he sighs.
So this was it. This was their life from now on. Everyday he would get up early in the morning just to come back again in the evening, having to accomplish barely any process.
He had been eying the pink coloured object sitting by any means on Dana's computer desk. It wasn't closed all the way and he thought perhaps she forgot about it.
'Or its for me to look at. Why else would she leave it out in the open?'
Dubiously, he reaches over the office chair and gently grabs the box, attempting to not cause any disturbing noises. He pulls it closely towards him cradling the item as if delicate. After a few cautious glances behind him he decides it's safe to open the box. As he lifts the lid, a faced down picture frame is in view.
He picks it up and slowly turns it towards him. As soon as he beheld the image, his state of mind flies out of direction as he clutches his head in pain.
His blurred vision adjusts as his eyes open to the surroundings.
'The fuck is this?'
His body moves without authority. As he struggles, his feet are swiftly moving him towards a door. He reaches for the knob and twists it silently.
"Dana?"
'My voice, I can't control my body. What kind of fuckery is this!'
"Alex," it's just her, Dana.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Yeah, it's nice of you to stop by. If you need Ragland he's just in the room," she points towards a large green door.
"Never mind that," he shakes his head. "Look, I'm gonna get you out of here."
"What? Alex, you know we're not allowed to leave the Red Zone, we are on their bounty list."
"I know."
"Even if we could get out of here, where would we go? I mean, our apartment is totaled, and this just seems to be the only complex we have. We can't just follow Ragland around, he's got his own life, you know."
"Dana, look at me, look at this place. Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life in quarantine? I don't know what you're thinking but it's the best I could do. I don't wanna keep coming back every night just to check up on you."
"Daddy?"
Shaken out of his haunting absorption, he swings his head to the right.
A little girl in pink braids and blue pajamas gawk at his stunned expression.
She giggles. "You and Dana are both daydreaming a lot today."
He smiles in response.
The shades alter their position, having a sun ray peak in, kissing her face. The open window has that certain ability if not closed.
Her eyes cracked open, feeling the blaze of blinding light entering her peripheral vision. 'Damn it, I left it open.' Disrupting her slumber, she falls hostage to the stupid idea of getting up when it's only 12pm.
Sitting up, she tosses the soft, warm blanket away from her body, throwing a second layer on Amaya. She throws her feet over to the floorboards, pinching her nose bridge. Her arms stretch upwards as her back arches into position.
Suggesting that James has probably already left, she makes her way to the bathroom inside their bedroom for a morning shower. Stripping to her bare naked skin she twirls the fosset in the bathtub until the water reaches her desired temperature.
"A nice shower will get rid of the sick, morning feeling," she grazed.
Amaya's eyes slowly flutter open to the sound of rushing water. She realizes the time and yawns, feeling her stomach growl along with her.
She quickly folds the bed cover into a messy pile, patting it on the bottom of the bed in attempt to make it look nice. It had worked.
Content with her successful grooming she marches towards the bedroom door with heavy feet. Closing the white painted door, the girl washes her face with the kitchen sink, drying it off with an unused counter cloth hanged on the chair.
Amaya makes herself toast with butter. Placing the brief meal on a plate, she grabs a water bottle from the fridge and makes her way to the couch, turning on the TV to her favourite noon shows.
Suddenly, a knock is heard on the door. Amaya whips her head to the direction of the sound and sighs.
As she approaches the door she is suddenly proud of how much she has grown since she had last opened a door, where upon she had to use a booster in order for her eye to reach the eye-hole.
Standing on her toes, she sees a black and red coloured collar of a leather jacket.
"Daddy!" she quietly mutters to herself. It had been so long since she had seen her father in the morning.
She eagerly unbolts the door, spirit hopping inside of her. When the saw the man she expected, her face fell.
This wasn't her father, however. No, this was the man she had least hoped to see again.
"Hi, young Amaya," he greets.
