I had expected awkwardness to ensue when I showed up at work this morning, but Michael doesn't say a word to me as he glances up from his laptop.
He looks rather uninterested, even.
I've barely sat down when Kenji comes in, requesting our presence at the lab.
Michael falls into step with me as we leave the room, following Kenji at a distance.
"I'm not going to say anything." He announces quietly, keeping his voice low so that only I can hear.
Well you've just said something, genius. You've kind of brought it up.
I stare at him blankly, wondering if this is some elaborate ruse to get me to mention what I was up to. Trust me, Michael. It's TMI.
He doesn't look curious, but I know he wants to know… something, anything. I'll just ignore him, and maybe he'll give up.
We pass the strike team standing in the hall as we enter the lab room. Rumlow, locked in a conversation with another man, holds my gaze as I pass.
"You were with Brock. Oh, good. " Michael's voice drips with sarcasm.
I hardly even call Rumlow by his first name.
"What are you, my girlfriend? Do you enjoy gossiping? Are you a tsundere?"
He's an anime fan, so using the terminology against him is especially effective. He draws away, a scowl of disgust growing on his face.
"You really like waking up sleeping dogs, don't you?" He grumbles.
Oh for the love of God, Michael, this is getting old.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm paranoid. I'm too paranoid for my own good." He seems frustrated with himself, denying me the chance to chastise him for getting too involved with my personal life.
My irritated expression drops, and I try to find something to say.
"It's okay. I get it." I mumble quietly, shrugging my shoulders slightly.
The subject enters the lab, his eyes flickering from one person to the next before finally settling on Michael and I.
His gaze remains on us for a few seconds before he sits down in the chair, his head lowered, his hands clasped together.
He's different today. When Pierce walks in, I figure he's the reason. Whenever he visits, things around the lab become more hectic.
Today there's a crew lining the walls with what appears to be a sound-proofing material. There are boxes and boxes of equipment that have just arrived and I'm curious about they're going to be used for.
Pierce praises the subject on something, asks Kenji a few things about the setup of the equipment, and then he turns to leave. As he does so, he notices Michael and I, and makes his way over to us. I can sense Michael shifting his weight to his other foot—a sure sign of his discomfort.
"Good work so far, you two. Kenji tells me you've been a great help."
"Always a pleasure, sir." I smile.
"Yes, indeed." Michael manages to sound relatively casual as he chimes in.
Pierce looks between the both of us with that wide, grandpa-like smile, then leaves the room, calling for the Strike crew to follow him.
"You guys," Kenji turns to us, "Can you set him up? I need to attend a meeting with Pierce upstairs."
"Yeah." I nod. Kenji leaves, along with a handful of other researchers. That leaves just Michael and I and the two men installing the soundproofing material.
I open a box of electrodes, monitoring the subject out of the corner of my eye. He hasn't looked at me at all since he sat down. He's stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, looking tense. Feels like we've gone back three steps in our relationship, just when I thought he was finally warming up to me. I think.
"Are you alright?" I venture the question.
He seems to startle at the sound of my voice, but doesn't respond. He removes his shirt instead, and I settle for his silence as I stick an electrode on his chest. Michael is on his left side, and he begins to unstick a latch on the subject's arm.
I note the irregularity in the subject's breathing, and brush it off. He's closed his eyes, and I think that means he wants no further conversation from me today. I turn my attention to Michael.
"Are you supposed to be doing that? I didn't know that you knew anything about engineering." I watch as he pokes around at the mechanics inside.
"You'd be surprised what I picked up here." Michael replies flatly.
"Isn't that great? You can put it on your resume for when you never leave." I joke. He rolls his eyes at me, and I can't help but smile.
I proceed with wiring the subject's two chest electrodes before moving out of the way to get the electrode cap from the table.
There's a loud crash, and a scream rips through the air before being silenced in the mere seconds it takes me to turn around. I see Michael collapse into a crumpled heap on the floor, the subject's metal hand loosening its grip on his neck.
I'm aware of my lips moving, my throat straining, but I can't hear myself screaming Michael's name.
I only hear his scream echoing in my ears, like a horror movie soundtrack stuck on repeat. It's surreal, and time stops for a few seconds as the realization hits me.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
I cover my mouth with my hands as I back away from the subject, his nostrils flaring, his breathing heavy, his eyes full of a pain I can't understand. How can you look pained when you just snapped the neck of an innocent man?
The other two men in the room have managed to hit the emergency panic button. As I collapse onto the floor, my eyes glued to the blood pouring out of my former colleague's mouth, I barely register the ensuing chaos as armed men enter the room, weapons pointed at the subject.
A chill takes over my body.
Michael is dead.