Chapter 13 – Normal
Amélie had never been one for big, fancy (and thus crowded) restaurants in Paris despite living there most of her life. No desire to scrimp and save for that one night on the town. She was perfectly happy with small establishments. At least that hadn't changed as they sat down in a dining room that probably had ten tables total.
She saw her husband like a patron at a movie theater, looking through her own eyes but not moving them. Hearing her voice, but not commanding it. Watching Clement's look of crushed dejection after "she" blew off his request for more power cells almost made her give up.
No. I will not die a monster.
"…we should just get away" Gérard was saying. "I have some leave coming up—the MEKA people can get someone else to analyze their claimed Talon intrusion."
With a flourish, he pulled out two tickets to the United States.
"Route 66. As promised."
Her face: a mask of indifference. One of the places she had on her bucket list, and she could not seem to care less.
"That's nice, dear."
This is a place I've always wanted to see since I was a girl, and that's all?
Gérard took a deep breath. Once you used the "d" word, you couldn't take it back.
"It's me and my long tours, isn't it" he sighed. "I always wondered if it would come to this. Listen, you can have the house. I won't contest it—I can live on-base. Just…just promise me you'll take care of those kids, okay? Social services said they thought you were acting strangely, and I don't want them to suffer because of what happens to us."
No, no, no!
"That's not it" replied Amélie, though her flat and emotionless tone left him unconvinced she meant anything she said. "I can't describe it to you, it's a feeling that I've been…called to a different purpose."
"Not funny" deadpanned Gérard. "You're not old enough for a midlife crisis yet!"
The next morning, the Colonel checked himself in with a counselor. He wasn't sure if it really was him, Amélie, both, or something else.
"I'll start filling out insurance claims today" she'd said as she hugged him goodbye to his waiting IFV. This time, it was a briefing by top scientists about the "Moon issue."
I've met statues with more warmth than that! And no kiss? She just hasn't come to terms with really wanting a divorce yet…
"Package for you from Birdclaw Corporation."
Amélie thumbprinted for it.
She watched her hands unwrap some kind of bodysuit. It wouldn't have been out of place in a video game, or even among some of Overwatch's cast of heroes. A…a rifle? But how did it fit in this small package? She'd never handled a weapon in her life, yet her petite fingers flew across the dozens of pieces, assembling it like it were something practiced for years.
Shouldering it, she swept back and forth, only afterward realizing anyone on the street could have seen her. Amélie drew the shades.
A cylinder filled with a violently-yellow liquid reminded her of the injections she'd been given. Clearly, she was expected to use this or the rifle to complete her task.
A small piece of paper fluttered out of the briefcase.
"Would you kindly eliminate your target by tomorrow, Widowmaker?"
No, no, NO!
