Emma dreams of the escape, of it going wrong and of it going right. Of every variation of the plan that she can't bring herself to think about when she is awake. She imagines Ted betraying them, Bill dying for them, Char breaking and surrendering, crying, scared. She doesn't breathe a word of it to anyone, least of all Paul, who she knows is having nightmares of his own. She doesn't even share the good dreams, the ones where they're out and safe and laughing breathlessly in the sunlight.
She stays up late most evenings, waiting to see what Charlotte's verdict will be, but it quickly becomes clear that their window, if they ever get one, will be in the early hours of the morning. Char commands that they all sleep, and she will wake them if an opportunity arises - nobody points out that this will mean practically no sleep for her, after Ted does just that and gets a verbal lashing for his trouble. The meek woman has become fearsome over the last few days, and Emma expects adrenaline would stop her getting any rest even if she tried.
One evening, when Emma is lying awake trying not to dream, she feels a hand brush against hers. She almost jumps, but she knows logically that it must be one of her friends, and she can tell somehow from the touch that it's Paul. He leans over the side of her bunk, fingers resting on top of the mattress next to her.
"I'm sorry." He whispers.
"Don't be." She replies, and then shuffles towards the wall, pulling the blanket back for him. His eyes widen for a moment but he climbs up, joins her under the sheet. They barely touch each other, but she can hear his steady breathing beside her and his warm presence in the bed.
"Thank you." He murmurs.
Privately, Emma thinks that it is her that should be thanking him.
...
It is Ted who shakes her awake when The Night finally comes. She starts, almost flying upright like she had that first terrible morning but catching herself just in time.
"Just me." Ted hushes, attempting a smile. She breathes quick and shallow.
"Is it time?"
"Wouldn't have woken you otherwise." He rolls his eyes, climbs down from the ladder to give her space to follow. Glancing around the room as she rises, she sees the others are also stirring.
"Hey." Paul whispers from her left.
"Morning. Or not." She yawns, reaches up in an attempt to comb some order into her mussed bed hair. "You good?"
He takes a visible calming breath. "Yeah." He replies. "It's been long enough. I'm ready."
Her heart swells with pride - she is nervous, but it must be nothing compared to what he is feeling right now. Nodding resolutely, both to herself and the others, she turns and rummages under her mattress. There, she snatches the key card with grim satisfaction.
"Thanks, Professor." She mutters, presenting it to the group.
"Ha! Say goodbye to your job, Hidgens." Ted smirks, and Charlotte giggles.
"Come on, then." Bill urges, pressing forwards. Emma holds up the key card, steps forward, and waves it slowly, carefully, over Bill's cuffs.
There is a moment, still and heavy, when nothing happens. Then there is a quiet click, and the clasp slips open.
Behind her, Paul lets out a breathy laugh. "Okay." He says, radiating anxious energy as Bill flexes his fingers. "Okay."
Ted is next, and Emma can feel the heat that flares off of him as he slides his cuffs off. He frowns, looking less pleased, but then Char takes his arm and he relaxes.
"You've got this." She smiles at him. "I trust you."
Finally, Emma swipes her own cuffs, pulls them off with disgust. It's how she imagines taking off one of those old timey corsets might feel - she can suddenly move easier, feels lighter. With a flick of her wrist, she flings the keycard into the air, lets it hover there for a minute.
"Woah." Paul grins. "That's cool." He's never seen her powers before, not really - they haven't been in the lab or the ring together, thank goodness.
"This is our only shot." She turns to Paul. "Can you lead us out of here?"
They've already discussed the plan, of course, down to the last detail, but it feels right to run it by him one more time.
"Yes." He says, without complete certainty, but as confident as Paul tends to get.
"Then what are we waiting for?" It's Charlotte who says it, hovering by the door with her hair tied back and her fists clenched by her sides. "It's time."
...
Lucky for them, the use of the cuffs means that the door to the cell has never needed to be reinforced - when Ted melts the lock mechanism as Emma simultaneously pushes the door to swing outwards on its hinges, it creaks open with little more than a jolt.
Charlotte was absolutely spot on - there isn't a single guard in the corridor outside. She grins with pride as they traipse out of the cell, and leads Ted and Bill away from it as Paul turns in the doorway to survey it.
"You ok?" Emma asks, moving steadily away from their prison.
Paul nods, clenches and unclenches his fists. "We can do it together, being in the world?"
"Of course." She steps forward reluctantly, feeling like McNamara is about to jump from the shadows and catch them in the act. She takes his hand. "You are never going to be alone again, Paul."
He turns to her, and swings the cell door shut behind him. "Let's go."
They form a little chain as they jog, and it reminds Emma absurdly of school field trips as a kid. Find a buddy, don't wander off. Paul does seem to have a good grip on their whereabouts, and so they make decent progress with no trouble.
Like ice cracking beneath them, it suddenly comes crashing down. An alarm blares first, and then somebody shouts down the corridor. The five of them spin towards the voice, but by the time Emma locates the silhouette, it is already crashing to the ground. She runs towards the guard, and sees him struggling against weeds that have sprouted up through the tiled floor and wrapped themselves around his ankles.
The man snarls and reaches for his gun; she can hear the others shouting at her to run but there is steel in her gut and so instead, she flings the gun out of his hand with a swiping motion and it clatters to the floor behind him. "We are people!" She hisses. "Do you hear me? We are not monsters, or test subjects, or criminals. And that is the only reason you are still alive right now." She is suddenly fuming, but she can hear footsteps and when somebody's hand tugs at her arm, she follows them and begins the sprint.
"Plan?" Bill gasps.
"Keep going." Paul insists, smacking into a door shoulder first in his haste to get it open. "We can take them, you already took one out - thanks for that, by the way."
Emma slows only to shove an empty trolley across the corridor, hoping the mess will slow down any pursuers they have. "How much further?"
"Soon." Is all Paul can say.
"I'm afraid you may be wrong about that." Smirks a familiar voice from the other end of the room.
"Sh*t!" Emma vaguely hears Ted say, but she doesn't really care because General McNamara is pointing a pistol at her head.
Would she be quick enough to use her powers? She hadn't been at the graveyard, all that time ago, and he is much closer to her now, a matter of feet not yards. But a distraction might give her a fighting chance. She swallows, tries to speak.
"All you had to do," McNamara interrupts. "Was follow the rules!" He has a wild look in his eyes, and Emma thinks that they are way past the point of obedience now. If she even moves an inch, she is convinced he will shoot her.
"General McNamara," Paul stammers, hands raised in surrender. "Please." This plea has no effect, positive or negative, so he dares to continue, anger and desperation building in his voice. "I never had a childhood. I never had friends, or a job, or a sibling." He creeps closer, lowering his hands slightly. "PEIP took everything from me, and you know that better than anyone. You did some of it yourself. I just want a life. Please, John, give me my life back."
McNamara frowns, shaking his head slowly. "This manipulation... you always have been a selfish creature, even as a boy."
"I was afraid. I was a kid; I didn't want to be hurt." Paul's voice breaks. "All you have to do is walk away, John. Nobody will know."
"I can't let you leave, Paul. How many times have I told you that this is for your own-"
He flies sideways, flung by some unknown unstoppable force, and crashes into the wall, leaving a sizeable dent in the plaster. His gun clatters to the floor, unfired. Emma cries out in surprise at her own actions, fuelled by some outraged protectiveness seizing her chest. "Oh my god."
Char runs and takes her friend by the shoulders. "Was that you?" She whispers. "That was incredible."
Paul fishes the forgotten gun off the ground and turns it on the General when he begins to groan. "You bitch..." The older man is hissing, hate in his eyes. Paul punches him full in the face.
"You ever try to hurt me or my friends again, and I will come back here, and I will destroy this place. And don't think I can't. I know things; I've been here a long time. You've made sure of that." He uses the pistol this time to slam the General's head back into the wall, and he finally crumples into unconsciousness. Paul looks unenthusiastically at the gun, but keeps hold of it as they continue on their way.
Emma and Ted's combined effort forces that final set of doors open, clearly guarded by the military head of operations as a last resort against rebellion, and cold, clean air floods in to meet them. There are the shadows of trees in the distance, lit by ivory moonlight giving way only to the lightening early morning horizon. It's misty and, when they step outside, grass crunches beneath their feet.
Emma turns to Paul, who is staring uncomprehendingly at the endless starry night. "What?" She smiles.
He turns to her, grins back. "Its impossible." He breathes.
Char lets out a laugh, and Bill starts making noises of disbelief or excitement or both. Ted is grinning too, until the bullet pierces his arm.
Charlotte's scream merges with his as he flinches down into a crouch. He doesn't seem badly hurt - he is still conscious at least - and since he is able to run, they all get moving, Paul reaching out to him as they go and taking his hand. It takes concentration to heal Ted whilst they're both flying full speed through the forest they have apparently been hidden in all this time, but the turquoise glow lights their way. They duck and dodge wispy branches grasping at their clothes and hair, twigs snapping beneath their feet.
Back to relative health, Ted has the presence of mind to feel the wind in his face, realise that by sheer dumb luck, it is blowing towards the facility they have emerged from. He lunges at a nearby tree and, when everyone he cares about has passed by him, lets literal sparks fly. The dry wood goes up instantly, and he watches with glee as figures chasing them start retreating back and shouting in panic. He hasn't let loose with his power since Jenny... He can't help but see her face now, and he falters, but then he remembers Paul in a coma, Charlotte crying in his arms.
He scowls at the facility and the fire now rushing towards it. Let them burn.