This part is pretty open-ended as intended and came out completely different than how I originally wanted but I like it all the same.
Chapter 9:
Ophiuchus
PART 3
The motel was cheap, and it showed. Dirty and old, it lacked the upkeep it should have but it was more than all right for Ophiuchus—Zelda? Could she even call herself that?—and she dropped onto the mattress, exhausted.
But relaxing wasn't on her to-do list, no. She connected to the shitty motel wifi with a stolen laptop and began researching. She needed to know everything she had missed, everything that had happened—where she even was. How she would get to a safe house and grab a run kit needed for crossing borders.
~Why don't you contact Soma?
Adan suggested.
"No," she rasped, throat dry. She hadn't had anything to drink or eat in more than twelve hours. She would need to use some of her stolen money to stock up.
~Why not?
Ophiuchus didn't answer him, instead, she focused on her task at hand. It was obvious she was in Russia from how everyone had spoken a large percentage of Russian at the base, and now free it was clear as day. Ophiuchus had long since fallen into using it as her primary language. Even now, she was speaking it.
When was the last time she had spoken English? It had to be just after that kid died. Just before she gave in.
Ophiuchus shuddered, pushing that deep down. She had no desire to think of it, could feel her fingers begin to tremble as her mind refused to leave it be. Forgetting or pushing it aside was never easy no matter how people say it is.
~Just breathe.
Adan instructed. Ophiuchus did, sucking in deep breaths, choking on them.
~That's it, Ze.
He soothed.
~You're doing a good job.
Ophiuchus got on with her work, allowing herself to hyper-focus to forget.
When she emerges from her haze, Ophiuchus has all the information she needs and a desperate urge to take a piss despite not having drunk anything. The bathroom light buzzed, and the contractor fan whirled obnoxiously loud. The mirror was dirty and chipping at the edges.
Ophiuchus stared into it. Her face was sunken, dark circles beneath her eyes. Hair that was tangled and greasy from lack of hygiene. She turned to the bath and ran the shower. There was no way she was going to go out looking like a homeless person.
The shower products provided were more than enough to do the job and the towels were surprising well-kept and fluffy.
But shoving on her old clothes was a necessity. Guess she was pickpocketing more money.
The supermarket was quiet for this time of evening, very few shoppers and Ophiuchus breathed a sigh of relief.
She headed for food first. Some pasta pots for quick and easy use. Some breakfast bars. A water bottle that she could refill. Some hygiene products and then clothes, underwear included.
It was another breath of relief to be able to find everything she needed.
As Ophiuchus strolled down an aisle to the checkout, she spots some hair bleach and impulsively throws it into the cart with a blonde dye kit.
Maybe she needed some physical change to kick everything off. If MECH was looking for her too, she needed to make them.
It's the first thing she does when Ophiuchus gets back to her motel room. She reads the package and grabs a pair of scissors and snips away. Chunks and long strands fall into the sink until all that's left is a choppy pixie cut.
~I've never seen you with such short hair before.
Adan observed.
Ophiuchus had wondered where he'd gone. Guess he was back now.
"Need to change," she shrugged and unboxed the bleach to begin applying it. The smell tingles her nose worse with her enhanced sense of smell. She coughs. The tingling of her scalp felt weird.
In the end, the now blonde goes to bed in clean clothes and for the first time in years, sleeps peacefully. It doesn't last, she's awake four hours later, panting from the nightmare.
But it counts for something, she supposed.
Ophiuchus leaves the motel that next morning, heading west to the border and thus the closest safe house.
The safe house is a bare apartment located in a poorer district, made to look abandoned and lacking anything of value to ward away anyone who sort to break in.
She fishes for the key from inside a pipe and unlocks the door. It smelt of dampness, of aged wood and Ophiuchus makes herself at home for the next week.
She performs maintenance on her arm, the chilled air outside made her scarring ache and she had definitely taken damage during her escape. A few bullets in the silicone muscle façade were plucked out but there was nothing that could be done about sealing the holes they left behind.
She tested each connector to the fingers, feeling the buzz and tingles as they zapped her. Somehow Cooper had connected the arm to her nerves, giving her complete control over it. Something Ophiuchus had only ever seen in movies or read in books.
It had scared her at first. It was heavy, strong—could break bone easily. She had broken plenty of them during her conditioning. Silas liked to laugh at the pain she inflicted upon the MECH soldiers ordered to fight her.
Ophiuchus distracts herself by taking a chunk out of a breakfast bar, angrily chewing on it.
There was only one time she dared to glance at what was on those hard drives. Booting up the laptop and loading the hundreds and hundreds of files. Lists of names and documents, videos and processes.
A video at random opens up.
Ophiuchus is puking, throwing the laptop across the room as her own screams echo.
The screams and pleas continue, and she scrambles across the room, ripping the laptop apart. She gasps, vomiting again as all she sees is that harsh spotlight, the unending scorching agony and Cooper's chipper voice singing.
Never again, never again, she sobbed, she can't, she can't.
Any progress made was undone by that alone.
Nothing Adan whispers brings Ophiuchus from her catatonic state until she's exhausted and unconscious.
Ophiuchus knows she's leaving a trail as she buys herself a second-hand motorbike from a dealership using a D.A.A card.
Ophiuchus knows everything that connects her back to the D.A.A leaves a trail Soma will find and follow.
Ophiuchus can't find it in herself to care.
All Ophiuchus feels is this deep ache inside her chest, but she doesn't know about what.
As she drives through countries, Ophiuchus doesn't see the harm in some sightseeing. Doesn't see the harm in exploring and letting herself integrate back into sociality little by little.
She tries food she's never had before, been places she would never get to go with the D.A.A. A holiday was next to impossible with that line of work and Ophiuchus finds she enjoys this living on the moving thing. Enjoys the freedom to pick and chose where and when she goes somewhere.
She's sipping a beer while camping out in a small seaside town in France. She sits on the decking outside while the inside is lively with music and dancing. The outside heaters are on, and she watches the ocean in the distance. Can hear the crashing waves.
It had been weeks and Ophiuchus had been making her way through Europe.
~She's here.
Adan whispers.
She.
They could only be one she Adan was referring to. Arianna. Aria. Ophiuchus's sister. Zelda's sister.
Sometimes, it's hard to differentiate the two halves of herself. Adan says it's because she's finally accepting everything. That she was healing. That she was slowly becoming Zelda again.
Ophiuchus doesn't want to agree. Wants to snap Zelda was dead, but he just rebuffs her.
(~No one is ever the same as they were a year ago. Everyone is constantly changing. Your change was just different. You will always be Zelda in one form or another.)
The dastardly hallucination that wouldn't leave her alone could go shove it.
~Are you going to stay or leave?
Ophiuchus…no, she hesitates a beat, Zelda, stays seated, gazing at the ocean.
The chair opposite her is pulled out and Aria sits. Neither of them says anything.
Zelda just…basks in this moment, fingers trembling, heart fluttering.
Finally, she tears her eyes away from the sea and to her twin. Aria had changed too. Her hair was at her shoulders, a straight fringe across her forehead. She looks older, just like Zelda did. They were eighteen now, change was bound to happen.
Aria looks good. Mature. But it was clear she was tired, worn, and Zelda knows it was not from loss of sleep.
Zelda's chest tightens, knowing Aria was hurting, grieving. That she had likely pushed and pushed when Zelda had reared her head those months ago.
Aria looks exhausted because of Zelda.
It just makes her feel worse.
"Aria," Zelda greeted. Not even weeks later could she drop the Russian tainting her voice.
"Zelda," Aria whispers.
Silence falls again.
"I—" Aria stops and looks down at the table.
"I am…doing okay," Zelda assures, "Better than weeks ago. But…healing is not easy."
"What happened?"
"Spent two years a slave for Silas. этот ублюдок экспериментировал над нами," Zelda explained, "Adan's dead. Just me left, made sure of it. Killed the other experiments, they were all MECH loyalists."
Aria exhaled.
Zelda held out her right hand, the hand that had once been flesh and blood but now was metal and silicone. Aria takes it, squeezes it, and then realises it was not flesh. Zelda does not protest when Aria peels the glove off, just watches as Aira sucks in a breath.
"They had no use for a disabled experiment," Zelda's lips twitched into a smirk, "It was their undoing in the end."
She reached into her bag and grabbed the smaller one inside of it. She pushes the computer parts across to Aira, "These are all the files from the scientist's computer. There is a lot on there but fair warning, it will not be pretty."
"You're…you're speaking as if you—" Aria stops and swallows, "Are you…going to come back with us? Me?"
Zelda sighed, "Eventually but, I need some time, space. My head is…loose a few screws. I don't plan to go MECH hunting, don't plan to kill anyone, Bluebell. Just…want time to get my head on straight."
"Okay," Aria whispers, lips quivering, eyes tearing up and Zelda's own threatened to do the same, "I understand."
This time Aria reached into her bag, sliding across a purse.
"A phone, unlimited card, identification and a memory stick with information Soma thinks you might want," she cracked a smile, "Logan thought you might not want to…come back yet."
Zelda was hurting Aria; she knows this deeply. Zelda squeezed Aira's hands.
"Спасибо," Zelda smiles softly, "I promise to keep in touch."
"That's all I can ask," Aria let go of Zelda's hands as she stood, "If you don't, I'll come hunt your arse down, got it?"
There was a tease in her voice and Zelda cracked a grin, laughing.
A laugh that felt good. So, so good to let out.
"I promise," Zelda tilted her head back and downed the rest of her beer. She stood too, offering her arm which Aria slipped hers into. They began walking to the exit, "I plan to do more sightseeing. We do not get to go out and about very often."
They reached Zelda's bike; she released Aria to pull her helmet on. She climbed on, and started the bike.
Zelda smiled at her sister, "I'll make sure to send you plenty of pictures."
"You better," Aria took several steps back, "I love you."
Zelda revved the bike, stilled and chuckled, "I know."
She flipped the visor down and road off.
"You—!" Aria spluttered.
Zelda giggled to herself, leaving her sister behind to stew in anger at the Han Solo reference.
Ah, an old pass time. It never got old.
- этот ублюдок экспериментировал над нами – the bastard experiments on us.
- Спасибо – thank you