Peter watched the line of ants crawl across the rock pathway in the garden. He squished an ant with his thumb, leaving behind a bloody smear. The ants are undisturbed by the loss of life. They keep marching. "The ants go marching, one by one, hurrah. Hurrah." He sang under his breath. Once upon a time, Peter's mom would take him to the park with regularity. She explained to him that every bug, every blade of grass, are alive. All living things are connected, they need each other to survive. She taught him that life was precious. Peter remembers the look on his mother's face when she died, and he sings a little louder. Peter squished another ant.
"Peter?" Kekallie called out to him. She was standing under the small sapling they had planted this morning. There are eleven other saplings in the row, Peter had only seen two of them planted. "Did you want to add anything?"
Peter stood up to look at the small shrine his siblings had built at the base of the sapling. There are several of Cauda's things. His doll, his favorite shirt, a book he liked, along with bouquets and cards the kids drew. It's hard to look at. Peter touched the amber hair clip in his pocket. There's an aching feeling his chest, "No. I'm okay."
Kekallie nods, "okay." Peter can't look at the sapling anymore and turns away.
Nebula strolls up from the treeline. She opens and closes her butterfly knife habitually. She's carrying a binder under her arm. "You're not fooling anyone, you know."
"I dunno whatchu mean, " Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Nebula tilted her head to the side, "no?" A taunting smile curls on her lips. "You wouldn't mind bringing Heather, her missing classwork then?" She waved the binder at him, "you know how I feel about the med bay."
"No! No, I-I can't. I'm busy." Peter digs his fingernails into his palms and glares at the line of ants. Guilt twists in his stomach.
She raised one eyebrow, "busy with ants?" She stomps on them, grinding their small bodies into the stone. The remaining ants scatter. "Unless you're not okay after all, and you want to stay here."
Peter snapped the binder out of Nebula's hands. "I'll go if it's that important to you."
"Okay, " Nebula looks towards the exit and then back at Peter.
"Oh, you mean right now?"
She rolls her eyes, "yeah, right now!" Peter let out an irritated huff and stalked to the exit, clutching the binder close to his chest. Nebula watched him leave.
Peter didn't slow down until the door closed behind him. He takes the long way to the med bay, dragging his feet. His stomach hurts. He can't shake the image of the corpse on the gurney from his mind. Peter had seen corpses before, one more shouldn't matter. The silence becomes unbearable. Peter can feel the static tugging in some dark corner of his mind. It would be easier to not feel anything, to disconnect for a little while. He resumes singing, "The ants go marching two by two." His voice echoes down the hallway. It keeps the static at bay.
Peter drops off his blaster in the bin by the med bay door. The fluorescent lights make everything blindingly white, and it stinks of formaldehyde. He ignores the guards and the white coats and strolls into the inpatient ward. There are rows of beds separated from each other by stark white curtains. His baby sister, Edbe, is sleeping soundly there. The glint of metal at the base of her neck catches Peter's eye. He stops dead in his tracks.
Her physician is standing over her with a clipboard. "Hello Peter, " the white coat greets him in Northern Kree. "You will have to come back later. She's still sleeping."
"What did you do?" He whispered with cold dread. Peter already knows the answer but he doesn't want to believe it.
The white coat replies casually, "We implanted cybernetic enhancements yesterday. It's an upgraded version of what you're wearing."
Peter's hand reflexively went to his holster but his blaster isn't there. He dug his fingernails into his palms. He watched Edbe's chest rise and fall. There's a large bandage above her eyebrow and another on her shoulder. The heart monitor beeps rhythmically. "Does she know?"
The corpse in the white coat laughed, "You know how things work around here. She'll find out when she wakes up."
Before Peter knew what he was doing he grabbed them by their coat and yanked on it. The corpse in the white coat let out a strangled noise. They shoot the armed guards a pleading look. "Pe-Peter?"
"It's not funny," Peter states forcefully. The corpse in the white coat nodded vigorously. "Call me when she wakes up."
"I'll make a note on her–her clipboard, b-bu-but, that's the best I can–I can do. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." They're trembling.
"Okay." Peter let go of their coat. They stumbled backward and fell onto the medicine cart. Their eyes are wide with fear. "Where's Heather?" The white coat managed to regain their balance by bracing themselves against the cart. They pointed to the last bed in the row. "Cool, thanks." Peter steals one last glance at Edbe before walking further into the med bay.
As he gets closer, he hears a familiar voice "...they will show you their true colors. They want you to be weak." A chill runs down Peter's spine. Ebony Maw sits at the foot of Heather's bed. "They fear your power."
Heather's reply is sullen, "I don't know, this power it–it feels scary."
"No, no, my dear, you are gifted. This is a tool to be used as you see fit." Maw matched her tone. He reached out and grabbed her hand. Peter felt his stomach lurch, it felt wrong. "I can teach you to control it when you are ready." Ebony Maw stood up, his gaze locks on Peter. He froze. Maw regards him with disdain, as he brushed past him. "Stay out of the way, lap dog." Peter doesn't move until Maw is gone.
"Peter?" Heather leans forward to peer around the curtain. Her eyes are red and puffy. Heather's arms are wrapped in bandages, but there are no obvious signs of modification.
"Hey, " When he looks at Heather he sees the corpse lying on the gurney, again. That aching feeling in his chest is back, and the pull of the static is alluring. Peter doesn't know if he wants to hug Heather or punch her, so instead, he sets the binder on her bedside table. "Neb wanted me to bring this to you. How are you holding up?"
She blinks her eyes rapidly and sniffled, "I messed up really, really, bad this time."
"I know."
"I want my mommy." Heather let out a broken sob. She curls into a ball and wraps her arms around herself. "I wanna go home. I don't want to die here."
Peter's lower lip trembled, tears blurred his vision, threatening to spill over. He tackles her in a hug, squeezing her so tight it hurt. He hugs her because it's the only thing he can do. Heather clung to his chest while she cried. They stayed together for a long time.
He traced the red swirling tattoos on Heather's neck with his finger, doing his best to soothe her. She had practically crawled onto Peter's lap at this point. "We all go marching seven by seven, hurrah, hurrah." Peter rested his cheek against her head. "The little one stops to pray to heaven, and we all marching down to the ground to get rained on." They swayed back and forth, Heather closed her eyes and rested her head against him. She feels unbelievably fragile. Sometimes Peter forgets that she's only six years old.
When Peter stopped singing, Heather stifled a yawn. "My dad–my real dad–would sing to me when I was sad. He even wrote me a lullaby, " she said wistfully.
"Why don't you teach it to me?"
She pressed her lips into a hard frown. "I dunno, I can't sing and I don't remember all the words, " Heather admits rather sheepishly under her breath.
Peter blinked, furrowing his eyebrows, "Why does that matter?"
She hid her face in her hands and mumbled the word, "embarrassing."
He bites back a smile, "c'mon, it's just us here. I won't tell anyone else, promise."
Heather lifted her head to look up at him. She's searching his eyes for something, and after a moment she says, "Well, alright. So, it goes like this, " Heather switched to her native language. This was the first time Peter had heard it. The language chip does its best to translate the song into English. "Take everything from me, I'd give it all for free, to see you smile again." They sway from side to side as she sings. Peter repeats the verses back to her and she continues, "You are braver than you think. Even in absolute darkness, there is starlight." They went back and forth until Heather sadly admitted, "that's all I remember, " in Standard.
"That's okay, " He reassured her. Heather yawned again and rubbed her eyes. "Your dad sounds like a pretty cool guy, " Peter says casually.
"The coolest, " she nodded in agreement. "This one time, he took me to see the forgotten lakes on my homeworld…" Peter and Heather exchange stories about their lives before Sanctuary II at length. When Heather starts to doze off, Peter insisted she go back to sleep. He tucks her into bed and left the inpatient ward.
Proxima Midnight barks in order from the front of the gym and the kids broke off into pairs to stretch. "I heard Edbe is getting discharged tomorrow," Miertra kept their voice low. They leaned on Peter's back as he slid down into the splits.
Peter sighs, "Yeah, but I think she's gonna need to spend a couple of weeks in rehab."
Allace frowned, "what, why?"
He propped himself up on his elbows, "they implanted cybernetic enhancements into her spinal cord."
The other kids murmur their sympathies. "First time through rehab is the hardest, " Nebula muttered.
"When does Heather get out?" Ophid asked.
"Didn't ask, " Miertra snapped. Proxima Midnight yells for them to switch, and the children are quick to follow her instructions. Peter pushed on Miertra's back but was careful not to hurt them.
Ophid pressed his lips into a hard line. He doesn't quietly scowl at Miertra, there's more sadness in his eyes than anger. "Heather said it was an accident."
Nebula scoffed, "you don't do something like that on accident."
Peter caught her gaze, "you're one to talk." She winced and looked away.
Miertra looks up at Nebula with curiosity. "What do you mean? Ow, ow, ow, ow!" They squeaked when Proxima Midnight pressed her knee against their back, pushing them down to the mat. Nebula bites back a smirk.
"Enough chatter!" Midnight snapped at them, "unless you'd like to join your sisters in the med bay?"
There are several "No ma'am's" mumbled out of unison. They finished warming up in silence. Proxima Midnight ushered them over to the sparring ring as the older kids finished up. "Nebula and Peter are up first. Hand to hand combat no weapons today, " Midnight orders. Peter stifled a groan and crawled into the ring. "What was that?"
"Nothing, " he mumbled. Nebula crawls into the ring after him, the slightest hint of a smile appears on her face. The whistle starts the match.
Peter doesn't even see her move. One second she's standing there and the next Peter was laying on the mat. The room is spinning, spots cloud his vision. He's had a broken nose enough times to recognize the pain. "You will not win fighting like this." Nebula casts a long shadow over him. Peter managed to get his right hand under him and pushed himself up. Nebula kicked him in the chest. Peter rolled across the mat and crashed into the padded wall. There was a sharp familiar pain in his chest. He curled up on his side, wheezing softly. At least two of his ribs are broken and it had punctured a lung. Nebula huffs and strolls across the gym towards Peter. "At least try to make this challenging for me, Pete, " she hums tauntingly. He grits his teeth and tries to stand up again.
"Nebula, no talking, " Midnight chided her.
Peter steadied himself against the wall and wiped the blood from his nose. The room was spinning. His chest aches with every breath. Nebula threw a punch and Peter barely managed to dodge it. He drove his elbow into Nebula's gut. She took a step back and grunted. Peter tried to escape but Nebula grabbed him by the throat slamming him against the wall. Peter felt his feet lift off the ground. He's gasping for breath and clawing at Nebula's hand. Her ironclad grip doesn't budge. Peter wouldn't last much longer. He did the only thing he could think of.
Peter licked his finger and stuck it in Nebula's ear. "Gah!" Nebula squealed dropped Peter to rub her ear. Peter coughed up blood and mucus between staggered gulps of air. His lungs are on fire. He stumbled to his feet and bolted across the ring.
Nebula wrinkled her nose in disgust and shouted, "What in the stars was that?!" Her siblings burst into a fit of giggling. "Can he do that?!"
Midnight shrugged, "I'll allow it."
Nebula snarled and lunged at her little brother. Peter had to keep a distance between them. He managed to dodge the first blow and then the second. "Stop running away!" Nebula yells in frustration.
"Stop chasing me!" He yells back as they circled the ring. Midnight buried her face in her hands and massaged her brow. The kids were giggling again.
The door suddenly slid open and one of the white coats leaned against the doorframe. Peter and Nebula stopped running. They're breathing hard, "I'm–I'm sorry for interrupting, Midnight."
She crossed her arms, "you are not sorry yet but you will be."
The white coat swallowed hard. They looked past Midnight, directly at Peter, "it's Edbe. She's awake."
Midnight narrowed her eyes at them. "Cool, " Peter hopped out of the ring. "This has been fun Neb, but I gotta bounce."
"Peter, " Midnight growled, "You have not been formally dismissed yet." She tried to grab him but Peter darted around her.
He grabbed his holster from the bin by the door. "I formally invite you to suck it!" Peter didn't stick around to hear Midnight's response. He raced down to the med bay.
Peter heard Edbe before he saw her. He heard something smash against the wall, glass shattered, and someone screamed. The lights in the hallway flickered and pale blue light glowed from within the med bay. It was a disaster inside. Several of the lights in the inpatient ward are broken, leaving it in the dark. Broken glass littered the floor. The white coats cower behind the not-corpses with guns. They made a path for Peter. He can see a figure moving in the darkness, their eyes glow softly. "What did you do to me?" Edbe screams and lightning ripples off her body in waves. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. A white coat, not her physician that coward was long gone, scrambles to get away from her. They're injured badly. "What did you do?"
"They implanted cybernetic enhancements into your spinal cord," Peter says from the edge of the darkness. Edbe focused her attention on him. "Everything is brighter now, right? And louder too."
Edbe nodded, she's crying, "it hurts. It hurts so bad it burns, Peter."
"Is that why you broke the lights?" he asks her gently. Edbe nodded again, looking a little embarrassed. "Turn off the lights." When the not-corpse don't respond immediately, Peter yanked out his blaster, "now!" They scrambled to turn off the lights and everything is enveloped in darkness. Edbe eyes and antenna start to grow brighter. The emergency lights turn on, their deep red mixing with the gentle blues of Edbe's electricity.
She rubbed her eyes, "thanks, Peter."
He smiles, "I'm coming closer now, okay?" Edbe nods, and Peter slowly walked across the room to her.
She leans forward to rest her forehead against his chest. "I'm scared. I hate it here, " she admits quietly.
"It is scary," Peter can't think of anything else to say. "You should sit down, okay? You don't want to tear your stitches." Edbe allowed Peter to lead her back to bed. She crawls under the covers and he tucks her in. "Ya know, " he touched the metal piece on the back of his neck, "now we match." Edbe almost cracks a smile.