Chapter Eighteen

She wished she hadn't bothered trying to eat. Her pace was fast, the desperate need for escape growling under her skin.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Look, I'm sorry that-"

"Leave me alone, Mirage."

Watch out.

Even as she whirled on him his hand was grasping at her wrist and Wraith yowled as she yanked herself away.

"Wraith-"

"Don't touch me." she snarled, drawing back as a growl rose in her throat.

She could feel her heartbeat galloping. She could feel the curl of her lip against her teeth. She dug her fingers into her wrists against the sparks, and she tracked him. Why the hell he'd followed her all the way here from the canteen was a mystery, just plain proof he was as stupid as he acted. She'd made it clear she wasn't interested in talking.

In short, she wished he'd disappear into the ether and had half a mind to put him there herself, because all she wanted was some time in her own company to unwind the feral aftermath the Game had left her with.

He was watching her carefully, hands partially raised in surrender. He'd stilled, made no attempt to get any further into her space. But what caught her attention most was that he didn't look afraid of her.

He looked… different. It made her uneasy. A tickle ghosted her mind as she shot him one last look and turned away. Her pace was barely less than a run, she was so desperate to put space between them.

It made her pulse jump, that he'd looked at her with that in his eyes. Her skin crawled uncomfortably, the wildness still too close to the surface. She needed to run off some energy. She didn't want his apologies, the Game was done and she'd said her piece to him. So why was he looking at her with such…

Concern.

Wraith pushed the Voice away, and headed for the outside.

~.~

It was barely a day before he found her again, and she was struck quite suddenly with the question of why he was so doggedly pushing her to engage all the time. She opened her mouth to ask, the moment he appeared in the area, but his jaunty wave and bright grin were unexpected and she lost the words as he approached.

This is a bad idea. came the faintest whisper.

Wraith frowned, startled and unable to decipher what it was that was a bad idea.

"Do you ever take a day off?" was what he chuckled when he was close enough, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

He sported his battle-gear, or most of it, and swept his fringe up from his face as he drew near enough to stop. She looked him over, and he seemed to know it.

"What do you want?"

Grin never faltering, he raised the gun. She didn't need to lift the Eva for him to see it, but she did. He nodded, his eyes gleaming.

"Nice choice."

He dumped a duffel at his feet, and nudged it with the toe of one boot.

"You're running live?"

She dipped her chin, keeping her eyes trained on him as she reloaded the shotgun. He nodded as if he'd asked a stupid question, and the curiosity as to why he'd come grew stronger. Usually, when she wanted people to back off, she had an easier time convincing them.

"Why are you here, Mirage?" she asked again, watching as he rummaged through the gear he'd brought, laying it all out on the grass.

"Figured now was good a time as any for training."

He's lying.

Yeah, thanks. She didn't need to be told that. She could see it.

"Why are you here?"

"You want to switch to paint? I brought a live rifle in case, but…"

That typical, easy shrug as he started off on some tangent or other. She scowled. The evasion was clear and easy to read, and she'd had enough of his shit yesterday without dealing with his ridiculous attitudes today too. She'd prefer he fucked right back off where he came from. Her patience was low as it was, and she just wanted some peace.

"Mirage."

His tongue stopped, and he met her eye with an almost sheepish expression. She waited.

"I figured it was a good excuse to check if you were okay."

The honesty caught her by surprise, and Wraith was startled with the lack of words that she could find to respond with.

"… Okay?"

"After I crossed your boundaries yesterday. We won't make much of a team if I'm doing that."

"Which boundary?" she asked, without meaning to engage him, frustrated that she seemed unable to avoid it.

He swallowed, and though his expression was still pleasant, a shadow flickered there for just a second.

"Your thing about physical contact." he said bluntly, and she shied away.

He was more astute than she'd given him credit for. She should have known. There wasn't enough luck in the Frontier for someone to climb to where he had without a good amount of the other skills his fellow Elites had in droves. But she'd been wrong about him.

"Why?"

Mirage shrugged good-naturedly and smiled.

"I owe you an apology, for starters. Shouldn't have touched you without asking." he answered, on the quiet side, "I… I know how little you like physical contact, I shouldn't have grabbed you."

When she shot him a curious look, he wasn't looking her way. But she could see the shape of him; the relaxed curve of his shoulders, the angle of his head, tipped to one side in an easy acceptance of fault.

"I responded aggressively." she admitted, unsure why she did, "So I'm sorry too."

Mirage looked over at her in slight surprise, before a lopsided smile lit his face.

"Apology accepted," he told her, and Wraith felt something in her gut unclench.

He held up the choice of weapons from the duffel, and something quiet inside Wraith nudged her to accept the olive branch. She took the gun, watching him set his PDA and hearing the silent warping of the air as his settings were adjusted. She matched him, senses lighting in preparation as he shared out the rest of what he'd brought, and she dumped her shotgun.

She hadn't foreseen sparring with him, not the first time nor again. Not when it had been so stilted and unhelpful last time. But as she readied her gear and gave him time to find his cover, Wraith wondered if this time would be less of a disaster.

And if it wasn't, hey. At least she was getting the chance to shoot him.

~.~

You're not alone.

The murmur was sedate, more an observation than a warning, and so she needn't heed it. She was clipping Mirage's shield with pellets a few minutes later when the system flashed to notify them that someone else was approaching, and they raised a hand each in truce to step from behind cover.

Wraith didn't need to look for who it was, hearing the tread a mile away. Her stomach sank.

"Oh great." Mirage groaned, alerting her that he too had noticed who it was, "This guy."

~.~

She shifted, narrowing her eyes and saying nothing in return. Octane laughed, and shrugged.

"You like yor secrets, huh? I gettit. But really," he leaned towards her as though conspiring, "what else do they call you?"

"Just Wraith." she said, slowly and carefully, with her irritation clear in her tone.

"Just Wraith, okay," the newcomer repeated, his hispanic lilt leaning the sound of her name sideways as he stepped back and looked at her appraisingly, "I like it. Dangerous, fierce. What a rush!"

His gaze flicked towards Mirage and the grin widened, taking on a challenging edge.

"Thee best kind of women are, don'tcha think, hot shot?"

Mirage only threw him a silent look, brow narrowed, mouth set. It almost amused Wraith that the speedster was clearly getting on Mirage's nerves. Turned tables, she thought. Octane merely chuckled at him. Wraith's face, however, gave nothing away as she raised an eyebrow.

"So Octane, because you're fast."

He cackled gleefully, bouncing on his toes.

"It's clever, uh?"

She hummed, and he flashed her that grin again.

"I'd race ya," he said, with a lazy grin coiling in the corner of his mouth, "but the way I see it, you don't like losing."

Wraith smirked faintly.

"You think I can't beat you?"

The new Elite laughed in delight.

"Mira, I know you can't beat me. Nobody beats the Octrain."

Wraith only looked at him.

"You've never raced me before."

"Hey, way to leave a guy out." Mirage joked, but Wraith noticed the tightening around his eyes.

Octane was bothering him more than he was letting on.

"You could work on your aim," Octane suggested cheekily, wolfish grin wide, "shoot some targets."

Mirage's own grin was loud, and he dropped a hand to the butt of the rifle hanging at his side.

"Hey, maybe I shoot you guys," he countered, "make your race less boring to watch."

Octane laughed, running a handful of paces on the spot as he did, the way some people might slap their thigh.

"I lov it, amigo! Let's do it!"

~.~

"Race me again, hey Mira!" he called after her, "Maybe I have a way to make things more excitin'!"

She turned in her jog, slowing but still moving backwards as she cocked an eyebrow. With his stimulants, it had been obvious he'd win, but she'd enjoyed the simplicity of competition and a good run was, well, good for her.

On the other hand, he'd clearly taken more fire from Mirage than she had, though part of Wraith wasn't sure how much of that was down to her own evasion.

"And what would that be?"

Octane gave her a lazy, sultry kind of smirk.

"Stakes."

Wraith raised her eyebrows and continued to jog backward, flashing a small smirk when he faked offence, before his face lit devilishly once more.

"If I win, you and I could fight together, sometime. It'd be a rush, leave our opponents in the dust, compadre!"

"And our squadmate." she tossed back.

Octane looked surprised and then quickly brushed it off, giving her an open-palmed shrug with just a hint of abashed, and meeting her raised eyebrow with one of his own.

"Wellll…" he chuckled.

She only hummed in answer, before turning again and taking her leave across the wasteground to the GamesHub. Octane called after her with laughter in his words. Mirage was silent on the journey back, but she didn't have the energy left to wonder what he was thinking.

Personally, she wanted a hot shower and clean clothes, and the simple comfort of her bed.