Chapter 15: Breakdown

Taylor woke to the sound of sirens. Her eyes were bleary, yet in the entirety of her new life, Taylor had never felt so good. She was aching, like after a good workout. It was the pain of recovery, or growth and Taylor knew her pains. She'd tasted so many she could qualify as a gourmet chef of pain, both inflicting them and tasting them. Huh. She felt… good. Giddy. A giggle escaped her before her eyes adjusted and she took in the room.

Taylor was laying on a table, her head in the lap of another girl. She looked familiar.
"Wakumi?" she asked.

The sirens were wailing but the room was oddly quiet.
"Yeah, Bertha?" the carrier replied.

Her face was odd. There was an expression on it, but Taylor couldn't read it.
Wakumi's eyes were a bit wide, her brows furrowed, uneven, her face a bit scrunched, lips pressed together. Her eyes were a bit watery. Taylor swore she knew it, but it wouldn't come to her.

"What happened?"
Her Escort let out a wheezy laugh.

"You had an accident. But you're fine now," she said, suddenly standing up, like a scolded cat.
Taylor's head thumped on the table. She slowly peered around. "Why is everyone looking at me?"

Because they were. The room was a mess. Tables were overturned, girls crying or just curled up against the walls. Food all over the floor. Next to their table one of the girls was groaning on the floor, bruised to hell and back, heady bloody. The rest of Taylor's escorts lingered, leaning on the wall around the fallen girl.

On the other side there was a line of ships, ones her radar identified as multiple Heavy Cruisers, a Battleship, and about a dozens of other girls behind them, most lost to the world or praying. She could see her supervisor. Taylor waved. The repair ship snapped upright in her chair, before audibly swallowing. Carefully, she waved back, but said nothing.

Slowly, wary that something might be wrong and of the whole odd tableau Taylor got off the table. She was a bit dizzy, but she knew her part. She bent down to pick up the scattered bowls and get to cleaning the spilled food when suddenly there were hands everywhere.

Wakumi pulled her back into a chair saying: "You just sit here and rest a bit, ok Bertha. Just. Just relax for a bit."

Taylor watched warships cleaning the floor while she sat, wondering if she'd fallen through a portal while she was sleeping and was now in some other Midway. Her hand went to her hair in habit and froze.

"Wakumi. Why is there blood in my hair?" The Escort leader gave another indecipherable half smile half grimace, before scratching the back of her head. It was so common a hand motion that Taylor knew she was being sheepish even if her eyes couldn't see it on the girls face.

"Nami was being a little shit. Don't worry about that, let's just get something to eat."

Well. That shouldn't have explained anything, and yet in the Abyss, it did. The teeth scattered around the table and the small pool of blood matting Nami's hair helped, but still. The blood was black. Was Abyssal blood always black?

Taylor did as she was told. She wanted some time to figure out why she felt like she'd swallowed a bunch of fireflies. Airy and light.

• • •

Taylor was worried. That wasn't right. Taylor was on the edge of panic. She couldn't read them. Any of them. Every face was closed to her. Fat too many were glancing her way while they talked amongst themselves. Her own table was hardly better. She could hear the two girls cleaning the floor quietly complaining, but none of their faces made sense. A full bowl landed before her as the serving freighter gave her another of those unreadable smiles.

Her Escort Leader glanced her way.
"Eat up. You'll need your strength. Sorry about the Bauxite, we can get more when the wards come down. " the head of the table… dismissed?

She couldn't tell. Why couldn't Taylor recognize even tone of voice? Since when did they know about her needing Bauxite? The panic grew. Something about this alienation from the girls around her was terribly, horrifyingly familiar.

Still, that answered some questions, like why Taylor was feeling so well. It also started a flood of others and drove a pillar of ice right down her spine. What the hell had happened? How did they find out? Did someone sell her out?

"Who would even know, the Imps?" Shun did. Shun had.
No, her PTs were on her. The memory of the dream was fading but Taylor remembered more than enough.

"Shun was still dead. But I. I could…try."

She could feel the tears falling. Trying was hard.
"What happened?" She asked, pleaded.

Taylor couldn't even recognize the emotion in her own voice and she was putting it there.

The horror was an ocean. She was alone and drowning in it.

• • •

Everything was fine, everything was fine. Bertha was awake and no one had gone mad. There would be hell to pay, but they were all going to live through this. Wakumi's eyes kept going to Bertha on her own, checking and rechecking. It was fine. Her eyes were normal. She was eating again. Montana would be back soon and then someone actually qualified would be here. Wakumi wouldn't be the one responsible when it went to hell.

She wasn't a Witch. But every ship picked up some tricks, and escorts trended towards evasion and spotting. Wakumi could feel a storm on the horizon. Coming right at her.

In the middle of a bite, Bertha started crying. She swallowed, hiccupping, and asked in a miserable voice:
"What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened, right girls? Everything is fine. Just fine."

Alright, so maybe she was panicking a bit. Anyone would panic if they were at risk of being driven mad for eternity. Just because Bertha wasn't mad yet, didn't mean she did not had every reason to be. Bless their cruel little hearts, not one of her girls contradicted her.
"No Ma'am." they chorused.

"Well, except for the bit with you going mad." a voice piped up from below.
Wakumi was going to smear Nami all over the floor. Did she have no sense?

Nami wasn't getting up. She sort off… flopped over. Some of the girls may have been a bit enthusiastic. Her face was a broken, blotched mess and it looked like someone had cracked her skull…

Nope, wasn't her fault. Wakumi did not order that and she was sticking to it. Which did nothing to quell the drums hammering at her chest.

"Mad?" the ship in question cried.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure it's fine. Why don't you eat up and we'll get you to an exam berth after. I'm sure a nice once over by a repair ship would feel good, right? Maybe have a look at that arm?" she desperately deflected.

The girl only started weeping harder. Oh hells, what was Wakumi doing wrong?

Montana finally came back in and headed towards them like a torpedo on an attack run. She met Wakumi's eyes and the Escort Leader raised signal flags: Uniform, Whiskey.

"You are running into danger."
"I require medical assistance."

Montana slowed her advance as Wakumi got up to meet her half-way.
"I don't know what to do. I offered to take her to the baths and it only made it worse."

"Then do nothing. Just make sure she isn't alone. Your Princess is close. We just need to hold out until then." Montana informed her, with a worried frown. She smoothed out her face and painted on a gentle smile.

"Bertha dear, let me have a look at you." Slowly she approached the crying girl, taking a knee.

She took Bertha's head in her hands and slowly turned her to look into her eyes. The mad had sickly, unnatural colors and ominous shapes, amorphous shapes swimming in their souls. Bertha was a deep, almost black blue, clean and pure. She was also completely lost and miserable.

"That's a relief." She concluded.

Montana carefully wiped away her tears, mindful of her tiny finger claws. Tiny, but sharp. The Flagship had a lot of practice being careful.

"Don't you worry about a thing dear, you aren't mad. Your Princess is coming. She'll have a personal look at you after the repair ships have had their turn. They'll find any hidden issues right quick. Don't you feel special to have the personal attention of your Princess?"

Contrarily, while this stopped the tears, it girl only spiraled further into the black. Montana winced. Whatever the problem was, it was in deep. "Be a good dear, eat your lunch." she patted her head. Her Princess would know what to do.

"False alarm everyone. The Battleship Hime will be here soon to sort everything out. Please be patient." a glace drew up Wakumi.

"Keep an eye on her. I have to take care of the island. Midway is still in her chambers." The departing battleship threw a glare at her sister, then she was out. Riptide looked pissed.

The storm grew, Wakumi's bones aching.

The Light Carrier made sure Bertha was settled in, but she had stopped eating again. Murmurs were rising among the other ships.

"Are we stuck here?"
"For how long?"
"What do you mean until she gets here? I need to go!"
"Stupid fat prick."
"Why is she always acting out?"
"East can't even get a freighter to behave. Morons."

On and on. Wakumi was the only one paying enough attention to connect the dots, but she was distracted looking for the coming storm while trying to reassure Bertha it wasn't her fault and shield her from the crowd. Only one ship at the table noticed a final tear fall. It had an odd shimmer to it. A speck of blue, like the summer skies. Like lightning in a storm.

She kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to end up like Nami.

• • •

A Princess was coming. Just for her. They already thought she was mad, that something was wrong with her. They were treating her like a bomb. Taylor didn't know what she'd said while dreaming, but no doubt it was damming if they were sending her to both a repair ship and a Princess. She was going to get found out and then she was doomed. Slowly, the tears stopped. If she was going to face her death, again? At least this time she'd do it as herself. This world wasn't so bad. This particular part of it was awful, not only overrun by monsters, but monsters who hated her. But the whole world?

Japan was holding on. On its own. The US was still around, there was a European theater. How bad could it be? There was The Enemy. Heroes to the Abyssal Villains. She hadn't seen one, not up close. But with how much the Abyss was messing with her, Taylor doubted anything her compromised instincts had told her. The world was holding. Had been for years. This was bad, but not Scion bad. Not even Endbringers bad. They'd figure it out, make it through. Earth Bet had. Even if it had cost them nearly everything.

She didn't have to fight. Hadn't she fought enough? Sacrificed enough? They'd be fine without her. She didn't really have a reason to fight here. It wasn't her fight.
There was a hole where all that hate used to be. She was just passing through. If she stuck around she'd just turn into another monster. It was better this way.
Taylor did have one final wish.

• • •

"What happened to Shun?" Bertha asked, wiping away snot.
"Who?"

"The Ghost thing. The subs who died?"
Wakami thought about it.

"I don't actually know. Not my crew. But I guess what usually happens with the Ghost: they disappeared. Signal lost, blood in the water, better luck next time. Umm. I heard it's quick and mostly painless?"

She tried to soften the blow.
"How did Bertha even met a sub? Why? What would they even talk about?"
"Don't worry, she's with the Abyss now."

There. That should help. Remind the girl she'll see her again. If another Princess doesn't claim her first. Better not say that. Few would dare.
There was a disgusted snort from the next table over. Riptide, Montana's sister.

"Really? All this over a dead sub? We've been quarantined because sweet cheeks couldn't handle a little death?" she mocked. She wanted more, to break the damn freighters face. Riptide was a battleship, meant to protect her fleet, take the shells so they didn't have to. Half the escorts in the room were still huddling with their knees up, silent. Waiting until a Princess showed up to tell them the Nightmare was over. She'd stomped all over a girls twist for her, for this, and it was nothing? A false alarm?

Tell that to Susie. Fuck. It was all Bertha's fault. And the rest of East for fucking up so badly. Riptide wasn't even allowed to touch the girl under quarantine. It pissed her off something fierce.

"Fuck, I knew you East girls were bad, but this is a new level of failure. I heard you got ripped open a new one. Guess it just goes to show you deserved every single fail, if this is your level of competence. Are you going to cry over every useless ship that got herself sunk, you waste of steel?" she challenged.

"What did you say?" Bertha asked. It was nice. Polite. Perfectly level. Every hair on Wakumi's body was tingling. She could smell the lightning.

"I said: Any ship that gets sunk deserves it. For being too slow, too stupid and too lazy to do the work that could have saved their lives. I'm saying it's no loss if trash sinks." the battleship hammered on.

Because she could, because she was beyond stressed and pissed off by this whole thing. By her failure, by the sickness scare. By her still crying sisters. By messing up Susie. Riptide needed a target to take it out on. This one was both unarmed and thus on the bottom of the heap and actually to blame which just made it all the sweeter when she unloaded on the incompetent civilian.

Seeing her crumple, seeing any light go out of her eyes? It felt great. That bitch was getting exactly what she deserved. Bertha even froze and didn't move. Like she'd sunk her. With a snort the battleship turned back to her own table. Riptide had damage control to run. Least she could do was take on some of the burden, with the Flag busy.

• • •

They didn't even care. Sure the West was pouring out vitriol but her own escorts were no more moved or affected. Like losing them didn't matter. Plenty more where they came from. Did she not see Midway punching out monsters and girls by the dozen?

Liquid fire poured down her veins as her alarms rang. Their allies gave their lives in common cause, fighting the same damn war, sacrificing everything, and they didn't even care. They were monsters. They were all monsters. She was doomed? Taylor would spit in their face if it was the last thing she did. It was only fair that if she was a monster, she got to be one, at least once. Whatever happened, there would be less monsters in the world. Taylor had been bowing and scraping, feeling weak for weeks.

For the first time in her new life, she felt ready.
"At least this can end on a high note."

• • •

Wakumi wanted to go over and give those cold fuckers a few new holes. She didn't. The Light Carrier could feel invisible wind whirling around her. When Bertha got up, like she had, dozens of times, heading for the kitchen?

Wakumi's head slowly retreated beneath her own table. Her arms reached out and pulled the closest two of the little menaces with her. Fleet sense told the rest to follow the Flag out of the line of fire. Bertha walked to the other table, in slow deliberate steps. Her rigging coming into the world, like the ocean rising to swallow the world and Wakumi's was acutely aware just how big the other ship was. There was a hum around Bertha, an odd sound that wasn't one, so much as the absence of it.

A bubble of silence affectionately wrapped around her.