"There you go...come on, open your eyes..."
Christia's lashes fluttered open, then shut quickly. It was so bright...
"Am I dead?" She croaked, shielding her vision with a small hand. Someone chuckled above her.
"No, you're very much alive. We're in the Spire, in transit."
Fitz. Thank God.
Moaning, she lifted her head from the chair she'd been placed in and stared at him, relieved but equally bewildered.
"What h-happened? Why are you here?"
"You blacked out just before the car pulled away. That thing missed us by a hair, especially you," He explained, running a hand through his curly hair as he so often did. "And I suppose...I had no choice but to leave with you."
"I'm sorry," Christia replied earnestly, pulling herself up from the hard cushions. "I shouldn't have asked you for help. Now you're separated from your group."
Fitz stood up, stretching his arms above him.
"That's true. But we'll find each other, I'm sure." Christia simply nodded, sensing a little venom in his words. "You should let me take a look at that ankle."
"It's fine," She grumbled, attempting to stand, but fell back on the hard cushions, left foot unwilling to support the weight. "Goddammit!"
Fitz knelt down in front of her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're very pretty when angry and spitefully determined. Pull up your pant leg." Blushing fiercely, Christia bent down and rolled up the stuffy material, revealing her swollen ankle.
"Do you know what you're doing?" She asked warily.
"I'm a medical doctor, Christia. Research, mostly. I rarely, if ever, leave the Scimed Tower. Probably why we've never met." Fitz felt around her ankle, each bit of pressure sending sparks of pain through the tender muscles.
"How did you end up with someone like Woods?"
"Once the hospital began to fill, every qualified physician was put on active duty, myself included. Near the end, Woods came pounding on the doors, screaming about an injured friend who needed help. The other doctor's and I had secured all but one entrance, plenty of food and supplies, but I left with Woods, down to the lobby where he'd left his friend. When we got there, he was already dead, surrounded by synthetics. They nearly killed us, too." He paused, reaching into one of the many pockets stitched into his white jumpsuit, and produced a paisley bandana; gently, he wrapped it around her ankle. "We fought them off together and tried to get back to the hospital, but they'd sealed the doors after spotting that thing nearby and refused to let us in. After that, we stuck together out of simple necessity. He was an asshole, no denying that, and not too bright, but he'd saved my life many times. Anyways, we joined with other amiable survivors that we stumbled upon. Most of them are dead now." He knotted up the rag and patted her knee.
"Just a sprain. It'll heal up, just favor your right. Seems that you were doing fine on your own before we crossed paths. Sorry to have doubted you." Christia tucked back her hair, embarrassed.
"Luck. It would've run out eventually. I...didn't really believe what people had been saying, that there was something on the station. If I'd known, I never would have left our unit."
"What do you do here, Christia?"
The question caught her off guard. She didn't want to answer.
"Do you have my backpack?" She asked in a hushed voice. Fitz nodded and reached beneath the seat. He pulled out the bag and sat it in her lap, watching closely as she unzipped it and took out the bottle of water, offering it to him.
"Thank you," He smiled and took the bottle, "But given our circumstances, I don't think you should be deflecting questions." He uncapped the water and took an ample sip, waiting.
"I don't do anything here. I was going to apply for flight training; wanted to be an officer on a star freighter. Then I heard about the decommissioning, and then all this happened."
"Your father is Alex Way, isn't he? Works with the synthetics?" Christia grinned.
"You know him?"
"We've met a few times. He's a good man. Does he...have any ideas as to why the Working Joe's are malfunctioning? Killing people?"
"Only that he suspected it had to do with a ship that docked here days before," She explained. "Nothing more."
Fitz handed over the water and stood, his expression wistful.
"I wish we could rest here longer, but we better keep moving. The server rooms are in this part of the station, and APPOLO's core. A lot of synthetics around. Did your parent's tell you exactly where they were heading?"
"Seegson Comms, I think." Christia stood up slowly, slinging the backpack over her shoulder.
"We'll need to find an elevator then." Fitz started for the car exit. She grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"You don't think...it could find a way here, do you?"
"I don't know, but I will tell you this; less than three days after the group in the hospital locked us out, we went back and found the main entrance wide open. Everyone inside had been slaughtered. Somehow, that thing had managed to cut the power to the whole floor and disengaged the emergency lockdown." Fitz drew a sleeve over his damp forehead. "We have no idea what we're dealing with here."
Christia stared at him a moment, hand falling from his arm.
"You're not alone, Christia," He said lightly, flashing his teeth, and took her hand. "Let's go."