"I'm choosing to trust you. You are not to go past where the grass ends. All the houses on this street are empty, so you shouldn't see anyone around. But if you do, you are to stay out of their sight."
Elizabeth stood in front of the elevator, tugging on the cuff of one of her work gloves. It was a nervous habit she picked up, Miles had noticed. She had never been allowed in this corridor, let alone near the elevator at the end of it.
"Return before sundown." Father left, shutting the door behind him.
Elizabeth stepped into the elevator, toolbox in hand. She did not press the button.
"Don't wait up for me," Miles told her. "I can blink up there, you know."
After a minute's pause, she said, "I would like you to accompany me for the ride."
Miles appeared beside Elizabeth. She uttered a quiet thanks.
The elevator doors closed.
Elizabeth climbed up out of the elevator and into the shed.
Hesitantly, she pulled open the doors and stepped out into the unkempt backyard. The sun was high in the sky and there were no clouds in sight. The Afton family home stood forebodingly before them.
"Thoughts?"
"It is... open. I am not sure that I like it. Too much to check over." Her flat voice wavered slightly. "Will you show me where to go?"
"Of course."
Miles led Elizabeth through the back of the house, into the living room, and down the hall.
She paused to examine the dusty family picture hanging on the wall beside the stairs. "Is... that Father?" She pointed to the heavy-set man in the back with a young girl seated on his lap.
"Mhm," Miles confirmed. "And that's her if you're wondering. The other Elizabeth."
"Other... Elizabeth..." she echoed. "Which one are you?"
"The one in the striped shirt."
While Elizabeth never forgot that her brother wasn't just a machine like her, she did sometimes forget that he was once human. It was difficult to imagine him being the young, round-faced boy in the photo.
"You are very small."
Miles huffed out a slight laugh. "Children do tend to be that way."
Elizabeth's eyes trailed over to the two remaining people in the family. Mother and Michael. She spent a while looking but said nothing before moving along...
...only to stop once more upon reaching the front door.
Briefly, she seemed to consider opening it. Instead, she settled on viewing the street from one of the grimy windows. As it had been for years now, it was dead empty—save for the occasional birds and squirrels.
Miles could only wonder what it would be like to see so little of the world, for everything you knew to be a dark underground facility and a sad, decrepit house on a sad, decrepit street.
He wondered where she would like to go if she were allowed freedom. He hoped she would have that someday. That they both would.
While it certainly was not unlike Elizabeth to abruptly start pulling away, this time, Miles couldn't pinpoint what had triggered it. She was pulling harder than usual, too. He was becoming worried. More than usual.
He heard Father talking to her on the phone earlier, so he was waiting beside the elevator for her eventual arrival.
Finally, a soft ding sounded and the doors creaked open. Elizabeth stepped out, head bowed and hands tightly gripping the strap of her bag. "Miles," she greeted stiffly before walking past him.
"Wait. Please."
She didn't. In fact, she increased her pace.
Miles blinked in front of her. "I wish to speak with you. I am concerned about you."
"Sure you are," Elizabeth replied flippantly. "Now, would you be so kind as not to purposefully obstruct my path?"
"No, I don't think I will. You avoided me yesterday and you are not going to do it again today. I want to talk about that call we had."
"I don't want to talk about that." She tugged at the cuff of her glove. "I already know how this will go, anyway. You'll prattle on about how I was being difficult and act as though you're better than me, but you don't know what it's like. He doesn't expect anything from you."
"I do not—"
"You do. You're always trying to tell me what I should do when I didn't ask, trying to tell me what orders I should or shouldn't obey based on your opinion of them, knowing damn well that I don't have a choice to pick and choose to begin with! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you trying to confuse me! Don't act like you're worried for me. You're just worried about what Father's doing. You can't stop him, you know. Nobody can."
"Of course I worry myself about the heinous things Father is up to, but believe it or not, you are the bigger priority to me, Elizabeth!" Miles insisted. "You're scared. I can understand that, but—"
"I'm not scared." Elizabeth straightened up. She looked pathetic when she slouched. "Not anymore. I'm doing what I want to do."
"This is what you want for yourself?" Miles did a limp sweeping motion with one of his arms, drooping forward and causing his chest to hit his knees. It's the most movement she's seen from him in a long time. "Spending all your time pretending you're someone else, forcing yourself to do things that will change you forever?"
"Shut up," Elizabeth muttered, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She was sick. She didn't want to look at him. Perhaps if she applied enough pressure, they would crack. "I don't want to hear it."
"That will affect others as well?"
"Shut up." She didn't want to see her. Not even in her mind's eye. Not again. So, so sick.
"You're my sister and I o—"
"Shut up!" Her voice reverberated down into the facility. It was a good thing Father was above ground and couldn't hear her. "Don't call me that... You're not my family. I'm not your sister. You only have one sister, and she's clearly the one you prefer, anyway."
Miles' face could not emote much, but Elizabeth could still see the hurt there. She pretended she didn't see it and walked around him. She had work to do.
His attempts to interfere were becoming too much. He didn't understand, and she would no longer allow him to try and tempt her with disobedience. She was over it.
In the end, this was all for the best.
The pull of a trigger. A little click. Another nail punched through the sheet metal.
Riley stared up at the concrete ceiling, idly wondering what the sky looked like outside. She was fairly certain it was morning. Had the sun risen already? Was it still painted with pretty pinks and oranges, or was it entirely blue?
Scott, she was so bored. How did Miles and Elizabeth stand spending every single day and night in the facility for... however many years?
She shifted her attention toward Elizabeth's direction. She was working. As always. The project in front of her looked vaguely like a metal crocodile head with large nails for teeth.
"Stop looking at me," she snapped suddenly. "I can't stand it."
"I'm not looking at you... I'm looking at that thing you're working on."
"Even if that is the case, I'm afraid since it is directly in front of me, your gaze is still lingering too close for my comfort." Elizabeth reloaded her nail gun. "I am fully aware that you seem to enjoy not listening to me, but just this once I implore you to actually do so because you can't even begin to comprehend how close I am to picking up a roll of duct tape and wrapping it around your head."
A tense stretch of silence followed.
Riley stood up, grabbed the tape from the workstation, and to Elizabeth's immense surprise, threw it into the sea of boxes occupying the far end of the room.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, then sighed before closing it. "... Unbelievable." She gripped the nail gun tighter. "You know, Father would pin your hand to the table for that."
Then do it, Riley thought. It came to her quickly, steamrolling through the fog in her brain. If she deserved it, then so be it.
Her counterpart's irritation quickly faded, though. "I, however, am going to let that slide... Scott knows why."
Was it because in actuality, Father would pin Elizabeth's hand to the table for doing such a thing but be less harsh with Riley, or because it was simply such a Riley thing to and overall inconsequential?
Elizabeth supposed she did know the answer. She rolled her eyes at herself.
Riley simply continued to stand there, now unmoving and silent.
"Have you decided to leave me alone now?" Elizabeth waved a hand in front of her face. "Hello? Blake?"
No response. The moment of lucidity seemed to have passed entirely.
Elizabeth placed her hands on Riley's shoulders and slowly spun her around so that she was finally staring elsewhere. The exact moment she let go, Riley let out a faraway laugh. A low, back-of-the-throat laugh that sent an unpleasant chill down Elizabeth's metal spine. She hated that noise. Almost as much as the eyes.
"...Blake?" she repeated.
Still nothing. Riley began to limp away.
"Don't um... Don't wander too far..."