Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
Chapter 46: Cradles and Graves - Living Nightmare
Tensions rise as reports of worldwide hybrid attacks flood in.
Her footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, each drab gray wall identical to the next as she turned corner after corner. She had to find him. She knew he was here, and each second that ticked by without him only added to her panic. The maze of hallways twisted and turned, completely disorienting her. Had she been here before? She couldn't tell. The lights overhead flickered ominously once, then twice, before failing altogether. She stuck her arm out immediately; she could keep moving so long as she kept one hand on a wall. But she couldn't find it. She groped blindly, shuffling a few steps toward the side, but her fingers kept reaching through nothingness long after she should have made contact.
Just before she stumbled, the lights came back on in a sudden rush that made her wince. She was the end of a long corridor, its walls and floor the same dull shade of gray. A man stood at the far end with his back to her, but she recognized him immediately. Her feet ate up the ground between them, though it felt like an eternity before she reached him. He remained motionless even as she called out to him, and when her hand gripped his shoulder it felt like ice.
She gasped when he finally turned around. It wasn't him after all, just a monster wearing his face. The beast snarled with his lips and took a step back.
"You'll never find him."
She clenched her teeth tightly as her fists balled at her sides. "You're wrong."
"He's gone."
"Give him to me!" She raised her hands to attack, but as she surged forward it disappeared. The force of her shove took her to the floor, and she heard a cruel laugh echoing through the corridor. It was behind her, dark eyes pinning her down. She scrambled to her feet and squared up. "You're lying."
"You're right," the pretender teased cruelly. "He is here," it tapped his head with two fingers, "but you will never get him back."
Anger surged in her and the lights flickered again. She called out for him, pleaded with him to come back, but the beast just smiled. She wanted to weep, to rail against the injustice. She had just found him again, it wasn't fair for the universe to rip him away so soon.
"Please let me talk to him. I...I want to say goodbye."
The beast seemed to contemplate her request for a moment, then shrugged a single shoulder. "Very well," it conceded. For a moment nothing happened, and then he was there. The tight cruelty fell from his lips as his brow softened and his eyes grew wide. She threw herself at him, hugging him so fiercely. She thought maybe if she held on tight enough, the beast wouldn't be able to find space to return.
"What happened?" he asked wearily. He barely had energy to return her embrace, and his arms were draped loosely around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she cried. "I didn't find you in time."
"It's alright," he shushed her. "It'll be okay."
She stepped back to look in his eyes. It was him, whole and with no trace of the monster lurking beneath. He raised his arm to caress her cheek like he'd done a hundred times and she felt her eyes beginning to close in anticipation of his touch. Then she saw a flash of metal, and before she could react he aimed the gun and fired.
Jamie came to with a cry of anguish, her entire body flailing as she recoiled from the imaginary attack. Pain ripped through her shoulder from the sudden movement and she stilled, sucking in deep breaths until it faded. The shade had been pulled over the windows, but she could see the small slivers of light around the edges. It illuminated the room just enough for her to make out the shape slouching in the chair against the wall. Her thrashing had woken him, and for a moment their eyes met and neither said a word. Then he was up on his feet and out the door before she could blink.
"Mitch, wait!"
And it was Mitch, she was absolutely sure. Duncan hadn't been capable of the emotion she'd seen swirling in his eyes - the guilt, the worry, the shame. The last she'd seen just briefly before he'd bolted, and she disentangled herself from the bedsheets to follow. She stumbled slightly and instinct made her brace against the wall for support. Her arm screamed in protest and it took a few seconds for the spots to clear from her vision. Her feet began moving before she could really see, and she bounced off the corner of the bed with a hiss but kept moving.
"Mitch!" It wasn't a terribly large plane, but there were plenty of nooks and crannies to hide in; it could take a while to find him. She thought about asking the others for help, but then dismissed that idea with a shake of her head. They would mean well, but she didn't need to endure their coddling right now. She tried the bar first, but there wasn't anyone there. Equipment was strewn rather haphazardly across the floor, but she didn't stop to pick it up. She had to find Mitch.
He wasn't in the lab either. The entire space was eerily quiet save for the hum of a few pieces of machinery that could be heard above the engine noise. Jamie avoided the kitchen and the lounge. The others were probably there and she knew Mitch well enough to know he'd avoid any spaces with people in them. That left the cell block beneath the plane and the cockpit-turned-breakfast nook. She made her decision and climbed the spiral staircase that led to the front section of the plane.
The door was open and she could see just the edge of him curled up on the bench seat. His back was to her, though she could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he knew she was there. She gave him a few seconds, but when he didn't turn around she sighed wearily and shuffled inside. She closed the door behind her, shutting them away from the prying curiosity of anyone who came looking for them. There was precious little space inside, and she only had to take one more step to sit next to him on the long cushion.
"Mitch?"
Like a stubborn toddler, he refused to look at her. His eyes remained fixed on the expanse of white clouds that stretched out ahead of them and she swallowed her initial reaction to be angry with him. He was still processing, and she knew from experience that she wouldn't get anything out of him until he'd parsed it all out in his head and sorted through his thoughts and feelings. Still, she refused to sit on the sidelines and watch his rather impressive guilt trip without trying at least to soothe some of his worries.
She knew no reassurances about her health would do any good, so she turned the focus on him. "Are you alright?" That drew a snort of derision, which was better than the stoic silence. A sarcastic Mitch she could deal with. "Right, dumb question. What about…" Jamie was startled to realize that Duncan's name brought with it a sharp reaction akin to fear. She shoved it down and tried again. "Is the bio-drive still active?"
Finally Mitch spoke, though he still kept his eyes on the horizon. "No." His voice was flat and even like Duncan's had been, but where Duncan had been emotionless it was clear that Mitch was trying like hell to stifle a tidal wave of emotions. "Max took it out."
That surprised her, and she gasped in surprise. Mitch flinched. Obviously Max's plan to remove the device had worked; Mitch hadn't lost his memory. Jamie was thankful for small favors, at least. "When?"
"A couple hours ago." He was still giving her short, clipped answers and Jamie was beginning to grow worried. She needed to see his eyes; she could always read his mood much more easily that way.
"Mitch," she pleaded softly. She reached out her good arm and laid it on his leg, ignoring the sudden iron-like tension she felt beneath her fingertips. "Mitch, look at me please."
His voice broke over his answer. "I can't." It was first sign of emotion she'd heard from him since she woke and it hurt her heart.
She scooted a few inches closer and slid her hand from his thigh to his back. "Why not?"
"Because I can't…" She watched a tear slip down his cheek as he fought whatever demons were plaguing him. "I can't see the fear in your eyes again when you look at me."
Had that been why he ran? she wondered. She cast her memory back to those hazy moments after waking, the racing of her heart from the shock of her dream, the surprise at seeing him sleeping in the chair instead of the bed. Their eyes had met then - just for a moment - but she hadn't been afraid of him. Had she?
Jamie cursed herself silently and closed her eyes to fight off her own tears. There had been a split second where her brain had feared that he was still Duncan, but it had been so fleeting she hadn't even realized she'd thought it until just now. But Mitch had seen it - had seen the flash of panic and fear that had no doubt surfaced unconsciously - and he ran.
"Honey, I'm not afraid of you." The endearment elicited the expected response from him where she knew her reassurances never could. His eyes cut to her sharply in a sidelong glance, a hint of annoyance creeping in past the guilt. But he was looking at her and she refused to let him slip away. She reached out and took his face, careful of the fresh stitches in his scalp. He resisted only a bit, but he didn't break her gaze.
"I'm not afraid of you," she repeated. Jamie knew from experience how bad his guilt and self-loathing could get if he let it fester for too long, and she willed him to believe her. She watched and waited, letting him take as much time as he needed to prove to himself that her words were the truth. Finally he broke their stare, and Jamie braced herself as he slumped against her bonelessly. His head nestled into the crook of her good shoulder as his arms snaked around her gently. She gathered him to her greedily, soaking in the warmth and safety his presence had always given her. He seemed to need her as much, and after a few seconds of shifting she was nestled sideways on his lap with her good arm pressed tightly against his chest. He lounged back to rest on the natural curve of the cockpit's wall and both of them breathed identical sighs of contentment as they settled.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Jamie had tucked her head beneath his chin, one ear pressed to his chest to hear the steady thump of his heart. His fingers traced a feather-light path from her wrist to her elbow, mindful of the large white bandage peeking out from beneath her sleeve. Jamie felt her eyelids growing heavy, and she noticed that Mitch's touch was slowing as his breaths beneath her ear grew deeper.
"Jamie?"
Jackson's voice was muffled by the thick door, but she could hear the worry in his tone. She lifted her head and caught Mitch's eye, then smiled. She couldn't resist kissing him, humming quietly when it held a beat longer than she'd intended. Jackson's insistent knock made her pull away and groan.
"We're here," she answered.
The door finally opened, and Jackson's expression morphed from worried to embarrassed in an instant. "Sorry," he stammered. "Max went to check on you two and got worried when he couldn't find you."
"It's alright." Jamie stood up slowly and reached for Mitch's hand, tugging him to stand next to her. "We were just talking and fell asleep."
If their location confused him, Jackson didn't show it, though he did change the subject rather quickly. "We're headed to Colorado. Apparently Dariela hooked up with the IADG and they want us to take the dead man's switch to them for analysis."
Jamie knew she'd probably missed something after Duncan had shot her, but apparently it had been more than she'd anticipated. "What dead man's switch?"
Jackson winced. "Right, you missed a lot. Come on," he gestured for them to follow, "Max and Abe can fill you in."
Jamie kept a hold of Mitch's hand all the way to the lounge-turned-war room. The others were already in the middle of a discussion, but when Mitch and Jamie walked in they all jumped to their feet and swarmed the two.
"Okay, that's enough. Let's get settled." Jackson interposed himself and directed everyone back to their seats. The only one who didn't comply was Clem, who had launched herself at Mitch the moment he'd come through the door. Jamie finally let Mitch go to take the first empty seat next to Abe.
"I'm glad you're feeling better," he greeted her. "You scared me there for a minute."
Jamie raised her left arm just a fraction. "I'm guessing I have you to thank for this?"
Abe laughed. "I made sure the stitches were small. The scar shouldn't be too big."
Vanity had never been one of Jamie's vices, and she smiled along with him. "I've had worse," she shot back, tapping two fingers against the still-soft scar on her thigh. A decade had faded it enough that it was almost invisible from far away, but she could still feel the difference in texture when she ran her hand over her skin.
"How is Mitch?"
Jamie glanced over at her husband. He was still consoling an upset Clem, but the look he shot her over the girl's head was full of love. She smiled back. "He's good. I'm not sure he's really processed everything yet. Hell, I haven't either, for that matter. I don't even know what happened after…"
The room grew quiet at her implied request, and Mitch managed to direct Clem toward the empty chairs next to Jamie. Once everyone was settled, Abe, Jackson and Max began telling an unbelievable story about how Duncan had manipulated them all. Jamie glanced at Jackson when Abe spoke of Abigail's death, but his face didn't give anything away. She wondered how he could want to save her life after all she'd done, but she also knew how precious family was to Jackson. It hadn't taken much work on Robert Oz's part to earn his son's forgiveness; Jamie imagined it wouldn't take much more to make Jackson believe that Abigail could be redeemed as well.
Logan added his side of the story, and Jamie shuddered at the thought of hidden nests of hybrids all over the world. They needed to find all of those beacons and shut them down.
"Australia's been hit hard," Logan reported. "We had no idea there was even a nest there. When the dead man's switch activated the beacon, there wasn't enough time to erect defenses. The reports coming from Sydney aren't good."
"How many nests are there?" Mitch asked.
"We don't know," Jackson shook his head. "We uploaded all of the data from Abigail's device to the IADG, but it's in exobytes. There's simply too much data to parse through easily. That's why we're going to Colorado. If we can get this to Dariela, they can analyze the data directly from the source and figure out how it's coded."
Jamie glanced out the window. "How long until we land?"
"A few hours," Abe said. "We managed to get out of Seoul before the spores reached the plane. Containment crews have been working since we left, but Dariela says there are at least two hundred dead."
Jamie knew that this was just the beginning. Abigail had plans to overrun the world with her hybrids; it was likely she had nests in every major region across the globe. "How are we supposed to fight this?"
"I'm not sure," Jackson answered. "But we've got the spinal fluids we need for the sterility cure. Abe and Max are already synthesizing it."
"It should be ready in a few hours," Max added, then turned to Clem. "It'll be a series of injections over the course of your pregnancy. After he's born, we'll need to get some samples from the baby in order to craft the cure."
Clem nodded. "Well, that's one crisis solved at least."
Her optimism brought a smile to everyone's face. It did feel like a turn of sorts, a sign that things might finally start to go right.
"Guys," Harren came through the door holding one of the larger tablets from the lab. He set it down on the console and synced its feed up to the main screen on the back wall. "You need to see this."
The image showed a rather haggard looking man in a brown suit sitting behind a curved desk. Behind him, multiple screens showed horrific images of people running from packs of hybrids. Areas of some of the screens were blurred out, presumably because it was too graphic to show. " - seem to be attacking the most populated areas first. Again, for those just joining us, we're bringing you the latest footage from the recent hybrid surge. Most major cities across every inhabited continent are reported massive attacks from large packs of what appear to be new hybrid species, along with the ones seen in the Hybrid Zone as well as the recent attack in New York. Thousands are dead and thousands more displaced as people flee beyond city limits to escape these terrifying beasts."
A new infographic popped up just over his shoulder and a list of cities scrolled slowly. "These are the cities with a confirmed hybrid presence. If you are near one of these areas, authorities are urging people to stay inside. Lock your doors and barricade all windows. I repeat, do not attempt to leave."
Jamie gasped in horror as she read the list. There were six in North and Central America alone, and at least a dozen more spread across the globe. Abigail had been busy. She heard someone curse softly from the other side of the room, and Jamie looked back in time to see Jackson slip out the door. She excused herself and followed him, giving Mitch a quick shake of the head when he asked silently if she wanted company.
She found Jackson sitting on the stairs above the lab, and she only paused at the landing for a moment before joining him. His eyes were cast across the room but she could tell he wasn't really seeing anything; he was too lost in his own thoughts. He did shift slightly when she sat down, but he didn't seem to mind her presence. After a few moments of silence, Jamie reached out and laid a hand on his arm.
"You alright?"
She saw the muscles in his jaw clench tight then release as he finally spoke. "She did this." Jamie nodded, unable to find anything to say that would be helpful right now. She knew him well enough to know that he would talk himself through it until he reached the root of the problem, then she could figure out how to help. "All of this death and destruction is her fault, and it's just beginning. Who knows how many are going to die. Thousands? Millions?" He blew out a harsh breath and ducked his head. "My father sterilized the entire human race, killing 2.2 million people in the process, and now my sister is going to eradicate the rest of us."
Jamie finally understood the darkness in his tone. "You can't let the choices of others determine who you are, even if they are family. You've saved the world once and spent a lot of the last decade protecting people you didn't even know. So whatever you think made your father and sister do awful things, you aren't like them."
Jackson shot her a sidelong glance tinged with annoyance. "That's easy for you to say. Your family is amazing."
Jamie frowned and moved her hand from his arm to his back, scooting close enough to lean against him for support. She wanted him to know he wasn't alone - that even if his biological family let him down that she and the others would always be there for him. She also wanted to draw a little strength from him to tell him a secret. She hadn't ever told anyone, not because she didn't trust them but because she had been so ashamed.
"Do you remember the summer after my book was released? We took Clem to New York for her sixteenth birthday."
Jackson actually smiled at that. "Yeah. I remember none of us had any idea what to do when your publisher's check came in. We sat and stared at all the zeros for a long time."
"We did," Jamie huffed a quiet laugh at the memory. "When we got back, there was a letter waiting for me. It was from my dad."
He looked at her then, his bright eyes full of concern and confusion. "Your dad? But I thought…"
"Yeah, surprised the hell out of me, too. I hadn't heard from him since I was a kid. He said he'd been trying to track me down since the Beast Rebellion, that the end of the world had forced him to 'think about what really mattered,' or whatever."
"Well, since I never saw the guy I'm guessing you didn't reconnect with him?"
"Nope," Jamie shook her head. "Did some digging, though. Turns out he was running scams in Vegas, Atlantic City, Biloxi - anywhere he could find a sucker. It wasn't a coincidence he contacted me a few weeks after my book took off." It still hurt to think about, to know that someone she once loved and trusted could turn out to be so vile. She had done a lot of soul-searching that summer and had finally come to the realization that her father was who he was, and it had no bearing on her own character.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I always thought of my father as a selfish coward after he ran away, and I was angry at him for a very long time because I wondered how much of him was in me."
Jackson snorted. "I'm not sure anyone could call you a coward, Jamie. In fact, I'm pretty sure I remember Max telling me about you confronting Duncan unarmed after he shot at you repeatedly. That's either really brave or stupid."
"Fine line between the two," Jamie pointed out. "But I knew I could get through to him."
"No," Jackson shook his head. "You hoped you could. You had no idea that it would work. And it almost didn't. You should be more careful."
"Hey," she nudged his shoulder gently with her own, "I come here to make you feel better and I get a lecture?"
Jackson laughed at that - a real, genuine laugh - and he moved his arm from between them to sling it over her shoulder. He was careful of her still-healing arm, but Jamie was grateful for his openness. They had been close before the Hunters had driven him away, and she'd missed his steadfast presence in her life. He was a good sounding board, and they were a lot alike in many ways. Dianne had once commented just how similar they were, often joking that they had been twins separated at birth. When Jackson had left, Jamie had been bereft. Maybe not as badly as she had been when Mitch disappeared, but Jackson was her family, too. She'd missed him, and when he'd reappeared suddenly she had been hit with so many emotions that it had just been easier to be mad at him. But they were past that now, and slowly settling back into the ease that their relationship had once been.
"Are we interrupting?"
Mitch's amused tone came from above them, and Jamie looked up at him and Abe in mock-annoyance.
"Yep." Mitch's teasing smile fell into a scowl, which caused the three of them to burst out in laughter. She stood first and hauled Jackson to his feet with her good hand. "Come on, time to stop moping and save the world."
"Again." Abe added.
Jamie laughed. "Yeah, can we all make a pact that this is our last apocalypse?"
The others agreed enthusiastically as they descended into the lab. Mitch glanced over the notes on the sterility cure, grudgingly confirming that it looked viable. Abe teased him about not being the only scientist on board any more, and while Mitch took it in stride Jamie could see something was bothering him. As Abe took Jackson aside to discuss the details of the IADG reports, Jamie cornered Mitch in the small workspace beneath the stairs.
"Everything okay?"
"Huh?" He adjusted his glasses with one hand, more of an unconscious gesture than one of necessity. "Oh, yeah. We should change your dressing."
Jamie glanced down and winced at the small spots of reddish-brown seeping into the white gauze. "I hope I didn't pull a stitch."
"It's not uncommon," he admitted, directing her to hop up on the cold table as he snapped on a pair of gloves. His fingers were careful and deliberate as he unwrapped the bandage, and he apologized more than once when his movements made her hiss in pain.
"It's alright," she told him. "I just haven't had any pain meds. Do we have any onboard?"
"Well, we're not sure if the merepedine is tainted, so if we do it'll be basic over the counter stuff."
"That's fine. I just need something to take the edge off."
She waited while he rummaged around in the cabinets and smiled when he returned with a blister pack of white pills and a bottle of water. She swallowed three of the tablets and chugged half of the water as Mitch cleaned the area around her stitches. The bullet had gone completely through, and she could barely move her arm for the damage done to her muscles. Mitch wore a deep frown for the entire exam, and more than once Jamie reached out with her other hand to smooth the lines from his face with a soft touch.
"There," he said finally, slipping the corner of the bandage under one of the folds. "Not too tight?"
"No," Jamie shook her head. "Feels fine."
"Good." He turned away from her to put away the suture kit, and Jamie gave him a moment to work through his thoughts. Finally, after a long silence, he spoke. "When we get to the Barrier, I want you and Clem to leave."
Jamie froze. "What?"
He turned back to her then, and she could see the depth of his anguish and guilt so plainly in his eyes. "I think I can figure out a way to stop the hybrids, but just in case I can't I want you and Clem as far from the Barrier as possible."
"I'm not sure you were paying much attention in there," Jamie forced her tone to stay even and calm, "but there are hybrids everywhere."
"Only in the cities. You'll be safe on your aunt's farm for now. With any luck, we can stop them before they spread out any further."
"I'm not running away, Mitch."
"No, you'll be protecting Clem. I don't want her traveling alone."
"I'm staying with you." Jamie understood where his fear was coming from, but her own panic was rising at the thought of leaving him behind again. "We can send Clem with Harren."
Mitch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't think that when shit hits the fan it would be handy to have someone around who's good with a gun?"
But Jamie wasn't backing down. "Which is exactly why he'd be the best to escort Clem to safety. Who else is there?"
"Me."
They both whirled around to face Max. Mitch was rolling his eyes almost immediately, but Jamie could see a fierce determination in her father in law's eyes. "You?" she asked him.
"I've dealt with my fair share of hybrids trekking around Peru in search of the ghost snake. I can get Clem to Baton Rouge." He stepped into their little alcove beneath the stairs. "Mitch is right - you'll need every good gun hand you can find when Abigail's hybrids attack. Harren is needed here. But Clem and I, we'll just be in the way. This is the best solution, and you know it." He said this last part to Mitch, who looked like he'd swallowed an entire bushel of sour grapes.
Jamie's eyebrows raised in appraisal. "He's not wrong, Mitch." She knew he would have a hard time sending Clem off with his father, but she had the benefit of years of knowing the new man Max had become since his faux pas seven years ago. Mitch could only remember the old Max, the man who had left his family and practically ignored them for years. Jamie laid her hand on Mitch's arm and steered him around to face her, using his body to shield her face from Max's view.
"It'll be okay," she promised him quietly. "Max is eccentric, but he cares about his family. He loves Clem and he'll protect her." She could see he was still teetering between a flat no and a reluctant yes, so she dug her heels in and reminded him just how stubborn she could be. "I'm not leaving. So if you want Clem to get someplace safe, this is our only option. It's this, or she stays with us."
That got a reaction from him, and his eyes flashed with anger for a moment before his shoulders sagged. "Fine." He turned and stalked away, refusing to even look at Max as he stormed up the stairs.
Jamie closed her eyes for a moment and forced her own anger to settle. She knew he'd spoken from a place of fear, but he didn't seem to understand that she shared those very same fears. She wanted her family safe and away from the chaos that was about to erupt, but he needed to know that there wasn't a force on the planet that could keep her from standing beside him when - as he'd so eloquently put it - the shit hit the fan.
"You okay?" Max came over and started to clean up the mess Mitch had left while he'd treated her wound.
Jamie hopped down from the table and helped. "Yeah. Thanks, Max."
"You don't have to thank me, Jamie." Max's tone was light, though she could hear the slight admonishment that tinged his words. "This is what family does. And I do love Clem; I would die to protect her. She's my granddaughter." He tossed the bloody bandages and used medical tape into the trash. "You'll understand when that baby's born. There's nothing like the feeling of hope you get when you have a new baby in your arms. You'll know in your soul that there's nothing you wouldn't do for that child, no matter how old they get."
Jamie had a hard time imagining herself holding a baby; she hadn't been around when Charlie's kids were that little. It had probably been her niece - Reese's firstborn - who was older than Clem by a few years. She wondered if it was an instinctual thing or if she'd drop Clem's baby the first time she held him.
"Jamie?"
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Sorry. I'm gonna go check on Mitch."
"Be careful," Max quipped, and Jamie laughed. It was no secret that Mitch was a bear when he was upset. She sketched a salute with one finger against her forehead and disappeared up the stairs.
She found him sitting on their bed with his back to the door. He didn't move when she opened the door, but she could tell from the tight line of his shoulders and the way he held his posture so rigidly that he was still mad. Jamie steeled herself for an argument, though she hoped logic might prevail.
"Mitch?" His head turned toward her slightly, but it was the only indication he gave that he'd heard her. "We should talk about this."
"Nothing more to talk about." His words came out flat and clipped, like he was biting back so much more. "You and Max seemed to be able to make all the decisions regardless of my feelings on the matter. So it's settled."
He'd picked the hard route, it seemed, and Jamie pressed her lips into a thin line in the face of his childishness. She chose to ignore his pitiful statement and focus on the issue at hand. "We all want Clem safe, and this is the best solution." She must have touched a nerve, because in an instant he surged from the bed and took up the space between it and the wall. "What's really bothering you, Mitch?" It had to be more than the non-argument in the lab. Even Mitch at his most emotional was still a creature of logic; she knew he understood the truth in her words. She wondered if he was still harboring guilt over what had happened during Duncan's control, despite their rather lengthy discussion on the topic.
She could practically hear the word "nothing" as it crossed his mind and made its way down to his throat, but to his credit he didn't utter it. She wouldn't have bought it anyway. Instead he adjusted his glasses once, then twice before ripping them from his face and pinching his nose. He was really worked up; Jamie was sure if he'd had the room he'd be pacing.
Finally he slipped the frames back on his face and looked at her. "I don't know, Jamie. It just feels like my input doesn't really matter."
She scoffed lightly. "Of course it matters."
"Really? Because I seem to remember begging you to lock me up before the bio-drive took control. You ignored my concerns and pressed on with your own plan, and then Duncan takes over and nearly kills you! You know how I feel about Logan and yet you continually call him for help. And there's this…" He gestured vaguely with one hand.
Jamie could feel herself getting worked up, her combative nature rising up in the face of his own fervor. "There's what?" It came out a bit sharper than she'd intended.
He jabbed one finger over her shoulder in the general direction of the lab. "That. You and Max making decisions about my daughter without even considering my feelings about him."
Jamie bristled at his words, reacting before she could think better of it. "Your daughter?"
"She is my daughter!"
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure I spent more time raising her than you ever did!"
Oh no. No...Jamie couldn't believe the words had actually come from her mouth. Judging from Mitch's thunderous expression, he couldn't either. She tried to backpedal, but all she could manage was a nervous apologetic stammer that seemed to bounce right off of his now impenetrable exterior. Jamie felt isolated from him like she'd never felt before, and it had nothing to do with the expanse of mattress between them.
Still, she had to try to reach him. "I'm...I...I didn't mean…"
"Out." He spat the word to the floor, unwilling to even look at her. Jamie's vision blurred and she took one hesitant step toward him. He flinched like she'd slapped him, and she finally retreated to the door. She whispered one last apology before sliding the door open just enough for her to squeeze through. Once she was out from under the stifling tension that had erupted in their room, her feet carried her quickly away. Tears stung her eyes, and memory rather than vision carried her through the halls to the lab.
Shame and shock drove her to the small conference room tucked away on the second level. The design of the doors wasn't terribly conducive to slamming, but Jamie shut it as hard she could in an effort to vent some frustration and panic. How could she be so stupid? She had taken the one thing she knew Mitch harbored constant guilt about - the one thing about his past he hated above all others - and had turned it into a weapon against him. She was certain he would never forgive her; she'd likely never forgive herself. It had been an awful thing to do, and in the silence of the empty room the enormity of her words finally crashed into her.
Harsh sobs racked her small frame, though she tried to muffle them with her hands. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest for the pain it held. Jamie stumbled back into the far corner and slid down the wall, folding her knees up to her chest as though she could physically contain her anguish. A part of her wished for Mitch to open the door so he could see how absolutely horrible she felt, but she knew he wouldn't. She'd hurt him - broken his trust in her - and Jamie wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to her again.
Hit with a fresh wave of grief, Jamie buried her head in her knees and wept.