In Dreams

* * *

Darkness and fire. Wasn’t that a fitting end—or beginning—to anything?

A flash of light momentarily blinded Sarah, and she raised a gloved hand to block it. And then it was gone.

She blinked at the darkness, her eyes taking a second too long to adjust. Flashlights came to life around her, reminding her she was not alone.

Loud pops peppered the edge of her awareness. A multitude of whispers and faraway shouts emerged amidst what she now recognized as gunshots.

Something… something was wrong. She froze, almost choking on a breath.

“Pegasus?” It was a whisper, but he was near enough that he heard her.

He hung back, the rest of the group dancing shadows amidst floating beams of light. “What is it?”

“I’ve had this dream before.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

She nodded, but the cold chasm in her stomach disagreed.

He squeezed her hand. “Are you okay to keep going?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He shrugged, his usual annoying answer to everything.

“Something’s wrong,” she insisted, though for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what. It was no more than a cold feeling twisting her insides. The whispers continued somewhere in the distance, in another world removed from this one.

“Of course there’s something wrong. You think you’re dreaming,” he said.

She wasn’t sure he could see her glaring at him, but she gave it her best.

He obviously wanted to keep going, to catch up with the others as they were supposed to, but Sarah’s feet wouldn’t take another step no matter how hard she tried.

“Say you’re dreaming,” he whispered. “What happens in the dream?”

She blinked at him. “We die.”

“Okay, here goes nothing.” The whisper came from everywhere and nowhere, echoing in her ears. She remembered then how the dream went, but it was a moment too late.

Sarah’s eyes snapped open, and she choked on the air while drawing in a panicked breath. There was no fire, no explosion. She was still in bed, still in her room. And—she glanced at her watch—very much late.

She was surprised Clay hadn’t come pounding on her door as he usually did during his morning rounds throughout the training facility.

He would be getting ready to leave as well, so she might not see him at all today. They’d said their goodbyes the night before, after the naming ceremony.

She closed her eyes for another moment, trying to use those real memories to wipe away the insidious feeling gnawing at her insides. Nightmares were no stranger to her, but some—like this one—were more vivid, more real. She could still feel the warmth on her skin.

Sarah forced a smile and pushed herself off the bed, attempting to convince herself she was excited about this brand new day. Alas, dread was a poor substitute for excitement, but it was all she had.

* * *

Pegasus took a small detour towards Cypher’s station on his way up to talk to Zeus.

Cypher glanced up at him, unsuccessfully hiding a knowing smirk. “She’s late.”

Pegasus nodded, glowering despite his best efforts. That much was obvious. “That’s not why I’m here,” he lied, shameless.

Cypher’s smile grew wider, amused by Pegasus’ reaction. Obviously, Pegasus was not as scary as Scorpion when he was annoyed—few people were.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes. It’s fine.”

Pegasus must not have looked convinced, because Cypher added, “She’s with the transport already.”

Then it truly was fine. He whirled around before Cypher could see any trace of a smile and almost ran straight into Scorpion.

She practically shoved a tablet in his face. “You knew about this?”

He spared the screen a glance, if only to confirm it was what he thought it would be, then walked around her. “Why does everyone assume I knew?”

“I thought it was a temporary plan, you know?” Scorpion insisted, following him along. “A good temporary plan, but with a heavy emphasis on temporary. Hide her out at our training facilities until we figured out what to do with her.”

“We never did figure it out.” He shrugged. “So we left her there.”

“Yeah, for almost a year—almost! And she’s done. How is she done with fourteen months of training in less than a year?”

“She made it through all the required training. There was no special treatment.”

“I know there wouldn’t be. But is no one else concerned by the fact that she’s progressed so quickly?”

He shifted his expression into a neutral façade. No need to fuel Scorpion’s paranoia any further. “Maybe she’s a natural. Robyn didn’t require as much training for a civilian either. Could be genetic.”

“Please don’t tell me I’m the only one concerned by this.”

He hesitated near the steps to Zeus’ office. “What would you prefer we did? And don’t say tranq gun.”

She glared at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I’m sorry, I’m tired. But it’s not like there was an abundance of choices. We’ve gotten no closer to finding out who wanted her dead and why.”

“I’m saying that maybe placing her in the middle of all this isn’t such a good idea.”

He sighed. Good ideas were especially lacking these days.

Scorpion flipped her hair back, displaying her annoyance. “Let’s pretend she’s not suspicious and she is really just a fast learner. Never mind that throwing her deliberately into harm’s way also gets her closer to being a target, she might wind up getting killed because of us, not despite what we’re doing.”

“I know. But we had this talk with her a couple of months after sending her to the academy. We offered her the option of a new identity in a new country far away from here and the New Nation’s influence. She didn’t want it. She chose to stay there. I think mostly because of Robyn, but it’s her choice.”

“It’s still not the best choice in the long run. We should have gotten her out, no matter what it took. Scared the hell out of her or tossed her bound and gagged on a plane and left her at the North Pole.”

Scorpion could be extreme, but her motives were much more rational than her temperament suggested. It’s not that they hadn’t considered sending her somewhere else. But if they were only trying to protect her, then they couldn’t disregard her choices.

“I’ve seen her scores,” she continued. “I understand why no one would think about turning her down. She’s good. With more training, she could be one of our best if she doesn’t break down along the way.”

“And you think she will?”

“I don’t know.”

That was a risk they always took. Sarah’s unconventional introduction to this place had been anything but gentle. They wouldn’t know how she’d handle being here until they tried.

“And I’m still not sure it was the right decision, letting her be a part of our world,” Scorpion said. “Letting her come back here.”

“If nothing else, it means we can keep a closer eye on her. I guess that was the reasoning.”

“Yeah, but it could also mean she’s exactly in the place where she can cause the most damage.”

Was she back to suspecting Sarah? “What damage?”

“Just because we can’t imagine what kind of risk she might pose, it doesn’t mean there’s not any risk related to what the fake Robyn said.”

“We can’t lock Sarah in a cage or kill her preemptively because Robyn’s impostor said she’s dangerous.”

“I know. I’m not suggesting anything like that. There’s also the possibility that she’s not dangerous to us, but to the puppeteers. If Robyn’s side or her version of the W.R.O. was in league with the puppeteers, that makes more sense. But I still have trouble believing any version of Robyn would side with them.”

They always went around in circles. What could they believe about what the other Robyn told them? What should they believe? Who or what could have made Robyn act that way?

He tapped at the doorknob, cold against his fingertip. “If Robyn was forced to place the survival of her world above ours, she would choose her world. I think it’s a choice most if not all of us would make blindly because of an emotional attachment.”

“Would you?”

* * *

Sarah looked down at the wet footprints her sneakers were leaving on the clean, smooth floor. The rain was oddly appropriate. It had been raining the first time she met these people. Hopefully, there would be no almost dying this time.

The image of Pegasus, looking like some recent college graduate standing out in the rain with his hair plastered across his forehead, came to mind.

She drew in a deep breath. How could it be that she remembered the feel of this place after a year? The compound felt like the closest thing she had to a home, though she’d spent less time there than at the academy.

Weird. It didn’t make an ounce of sense, but there it was.

Her escort, Sierra, was still talking. Hopefully, the woman didn’t notice Sarah hadn’t been listening since they got off the elevator.

Sarah wiped down some of the water droplets from her arm and looked up to find Sierra watching her, clearly expecting a response. “Sorry?”

“Have they explained to you how this works?” Sierra pointed towards the larger Comm area, where they were now standing.

Sarah nodded meekly, embarrassed to say she remembered little of it.

“Your supervisor will be here shortly to meet you,” Sierra continued, satisfied with the reply. Her brows furrowed when she looked down at her tablet. “And it’s going to be a surprise, because no one deigned to fill out the form.”

“Does that mean I don’t have a supervisor yet?”

“They could be busy, but they’ll show up eventually.”

“Sierra, I need you,” a man called from across the room.

Sarah snapped her head around, surprised more than she should have been by the somewhat familiar voice—Cypher. He barely registered her presence.

Sierra started moving away, but gave her an apologetic smile. “If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll help you track down your supervisor. They could be hiding.”

Sarah wasn’t sure how much of that was supposed to be a joke. She watched Sierra move out of sight on Cypher’s heels, nodding at something he was saying very quickly.

Scanning her surroundings, she met several gazes, but none engaged her. They simply stared. Maybe she looked suspicious standing there with a large bag containing half her personal belongings in the middle of their top secret facility, but she was starting to feel very uncomfortable.

One person in particular stared so openly that she couldn’t help stare back, daring him to keep looking.

“You remind them of your sister.” The comment startled her.

Sarah was silenced by the sentiment betrayed in Scorpion’s voice. She reminded Scorpion of Robyn as well.

“I’m not sure you should be here.” There was no anger in Scorpion’s voice. In fact, Sarah’d never heard Scorpion so calm and collected. She would’ve thought it wasn’t possible. “They were training you to protect you and keep you out of the way—you know that, right?”

Sarah nodded. That had never been a secret. No one expected her to finish training, much less be any good at it. She surely hadn’t expected it.

“Whatever the impostor said before you killed her doesn’t make much of a difference. The facts speak for themselves up to a point. They wanted you dead. They wanted you dead badly enough that they sacrificed their way into this place.” She gestured towards their surroundings and again Sarah was met with several stares. “I don’t know what that tells you, but to me it says there’s more to this than we know. And that yes, you’re important, and therefore you’re probably dangerous.”

Sarah didn’t react. She’d had the same thought herself many times, usually after waking from another nightmare.

“Dangerous to whom is the only thing I worry about. Are you a targeted weapon? Or are you going to burn the world and take us all down with you?”

“I don’t know.” Could she even be dangerous to anyone on such a large scale? “I don’t want to get anyone hurt, least of all anyone here.”

“People always get hurt.”

Sarah couldn’t disagree with that.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Scorpion held her gaze for several seconds before pushing past her and walking away.