The Jellies Experience

[General Goose]

Yagmur had spent about a minute, pacing across the floor of the Aqua-Museum, in frustration, running his bad hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled and ruffled. There was something weird - tingly was definitely not the right word, but he couldn't think of something closer - about how his hair felt brushing against the stumps that had once been fingers. It was distracting. Calming. Therapeutic.

It wasn't helping.

He knew none of these people. All he knew was that his teammate, the psychopathic stupid piece of shit, had caused them such great pain. He felt responsible. He had no loyalty to Gene, other than that one might have to a rabid dog - put him out of his misery before he causes any more.

"Agreed," he said, in response to the girl he thought was called Bella. "We need to find him. Kill him."

And in response to the new arrival's question, he was the first to answer, with "The name Gene Stewart ring a bell?", returning to the group. Well, his pacing was slightly closer to the perimeter of the group. He didn't want to get too close to these people. He was the stranger.

[Shangela*]

((Skipping to avoid inactivity and for plot reasons))

Aidan continued to hypnotically chant, as if repetition would accomplish anything more substantial then memorization. It’s okay. It’s okay. Maybe magically, just saying it would be alright, would just make it so. Will offered a very weak, sluggish response. A quiet, muffled moan. Aidan repeated himself louder and louder.

Please Will. Wake up.

His friend stirred, and Aidan offered an immediate, visceral smile. “Of course I did, dear. Who else was I going to trust to tell me that chiffon does not go with suede? I need you around to slap me out of some garish decisions.”

Heat seeped into Aidan’s lap. A thick, viscous, coagulated heat that cooled dramatically as it pooled down the length of his stomach and thighs. The thick cotton of Aidan’s peacoat hungrily absorbed Will’s shed blood like a sponge. His lap felt heavy and lukewarm. But it didn’t matter.

“It’s fine, dear. You’ll just have to come with me to get another one.” Aidan sniffled. “Or maybe you’ll treat me to some fresh scones at Curiositea. You know, really fuck up my South Beach diet.”

Will’s voice grew increasingly irregular and weak. Spikes of strenuous energy muddied down into pained, hushed murmurs. Will should have saved his strength. Talking was so much effort and it was wearing him down, but he still continued to say those definitive, final words.

Don’t talk like that, Will.  I’m not going to forget that, because you’ll remind me every day.
When we’re at each other’s graduations.  
When we’re criticizing each other’s boyfriends and girlfriends.
When we’re the best men at each others’ weddings.
When we raise our kids to be the most devilishly sassy and confident kids, who will of course be best friends. And when we’re both senile and in the same nursing home in sunny Florida. Well, it’ll be like we’re becoming best friends every day.

So please Will, don’t fucking talk like that.

Aidan brushed Will’s hair with his fingers, gently entangling them in the matted knots in his hair. In any Disney movie, this would be the scene where the hero would plant a kiss on the dying party, and they would spryly spring to life, rejuvenated and alive. Just like Snow White.

This wasn’t a Disney movie, and Aidan wasn’t a hero. Far from it. Heroes vanquished the enemy, defeating them in a perilous duel to the end. Aidan had gotten the crap beaten out of him and let that weasel escape through his arms. Heroes arrived just in the nick of time to save everybody. But Aidan had been seconds too late. Heroes made everything alright in the end.

Aidan laid a final kiss onto Will’s forehead. Maybe if Aidan had been a hero, this wouldn’t have been a farewell sign of affection. But it was. As quickly as Aidan had raced to defend Will, his friend died right on his lap. His best wasn’t good enough.

For a moment, everything was quiet. Aidan could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he sat hunched over Will’s body. Aidan buried his face into Will’s chest and muffled his sobs. No sound escaped his lips. He was choking on his own outcries. He could just feel the warmth and wetness of his own tears as they smeared across his eyes, drowning everything into a blur.

Voices picked up and people started reacting. That’s how it was. Time could never stand still for just one second. They couldn’t have a second where Aidan could sit and breathe, focus on what was important, and plan. Everything was in the now. Now. Now. Now. If you didn’t think now, you were twenty minutes too late. He couldn’t save that girl back in the Sports Center. He couldn’t save Lucy or Taylor. And now he couldn’t even save his best friend who had, moments ago, been perfectly alive. He couldn’t even decide to end Gene when he’d had the chance.

But Bella could.

“He went out the back window there.” Aidan could only offer the direction that Gene had run towards. Aidan had that opportunity twice, and still failed to deliver. Even if it came a third time, Aidan doubted himself. He’d always said that he’d never kill like the producers of this sick show wanted him to. He always claimed moral superiority. But maybe that wasn’t the real reason why. Maybe deep down, despite how hard Aidan tried to prove otherwise, he was a scared little boy that didn’t have a damn clue how to survive without daddy there.

Aidan knew that truth, and it made him sick. He picked his head back up from Will’s stomach, wiping away blood and tears alike from his face. “I think . . . I think he might try to kill more. Go for ten kills. You guys. You have to stop him.”

America now knew that Aidan couldn’t.

[Pippi]

More and more people were suddenly appearing, as if they had been hiding in the very walls of the aqua museum. What was that phrase her father had used once? ‘Scurrying out of the woodwork’ or something like that, right? Lucia had quickly understood what that one meant, that it wasn’t a literal meaning. It was about people making an appearance after the main event had finished. Like cockroaches. Or rats.

It wasn’t a fair comparison to use in this scenario, though. She had no idea what the girl with black hair or the boy with the moustache were thinking or feeling, or what Bella or Aiden were feeling. And even if they were feeling scared, or nervous or apprehensive, well, they had a complete right to be. After all, Lucia was beginning to feel her throat tightening and her heart pick up the pace. Whatever had happened here just now had already finished, but Lucia still felt like she was being suffocated. Like she was back in the diner again.

Aidan’s injuries had apparently been delivered by one Gene Steward, who was also a teammate of the unfamiliar new boy. The name was familiar, and Lucia could link a face to it, but little more than that. Again, he was part of a different crowd to Lucia’s. And now he was being thrust into Lucia’s life for the sole reason that he had assaulted someone.

It wasn’t lost on her that the case was surely true for herself as well.

Lucia hadn’t noticed the body a few feet away from Aidan, so preoccupied had she been with his injuries. She only noticed it when Aidan turned to walk towards it. The glimpse Lucia caught of the body made her feel like she was about to throw up again, but there was something else that forced her to look again. There was something horribly familiar about the person lying, twisted on the floor... but surely it couldn’t be...

As soon as Will’s name was mentioned, the hand not holding Lucia’s gun flew to her mouth, helping to stifle the scream that threatened to break loose. She felt her eyes widening and tears beginning to form in them. Will was pretty much the first friend she’d found at the resort. Who wasn’t he friends with, after all? He was as friendly and polite to everyone he met as Lucia aspired to be. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, and now he was bleeding out in Aidan’s arms, in the middle of some strange museum miles away from home.

Lucia forced herself to think back to the two people she had murdered. Single shots, for both of them. Quick, panicked actions to steal away a life. Self-defence, or so she had thought at the time. From what she could see of Will, this had been as far away from that as possible, even if Will hadn’t been as decent a human being as he was. This had been planned. Something inside of Gene had told him that this had been the right thing to do, that for whatever reason he needed to end another person’s life.

How many people on this resort thought that Lucia’s thought process had been the same?

Tears were still rolling down Lucia’s cheeks as she looked at Bella and the new boy. They both wanted to find Gene. They wanted to find him, and they wanted to kill him. Lucia felt as though her throat was constricting even further. Gene had killed two people now, and he was being hunted. If the two strangers found out who she was, would she reach the same fate?

“I... I-I know what G-Gene looks like... I w-was from his school too...” Lucia said in response to the new boy, voice even higher pitched than usual, croaky and barely audible.

“B-but... but... but w-we do not know where he has gone n-now... h-he could have run anywhere... and... a-and... I...”

Lucia swallowed, chest caught in an iron vice, pressing down with every passing second. She wanted to tell them not to kill Gene, that it would bring them nothing but another dead student and blood on their hands. But she couldn’t. The words were in her head, but her mouth failed her. Instead, a single, timid question came out.

“Wh-what... what happens after... after you k-kill him?”

[KamiKaze]

Aidan was sobbing. It was somewhat hidden, but it was there. That only made things worse. Well, it was hard for things to get worse at this point. Bella had to suppress a bit of bile and not focus on... Will. He was so still, so lifeless. Aidan, she had realized, also didn’t look so good. He had been hurt in the fight too.

Not only did she hate Gene, but she hated herself. Standing there, sobbing as he did that to him. She was scared then, and still was. But she knew she had to do something now. And now? Her, considering what she was right now. Even in the haze of hatred and bile and nausea and fear, the part of her that still cared told her to calm down, maybe not hurt him, maybe let him go, but it kept getting drowned out.

Aidan was telling them where Gene went, and Bella realized he was right.

Ten kills.

It was a rule hard not to remember, especially after last season. Gene could easily try to be Karen Ruiz, and kill more. He was the kind of person to remember Karen, and the ten kill rule. She knew this for a fact. That meant that no matter what, he was going to do what they all had just seen him do again. And who was next? Eden? Shadi?

She pulled her head away, finding a red object hanging on the walls. Her legs still dragged beneath her and her heart still raced when she pulled herself closer to it.

A weapon.

Bella tugged at the fire extinguisher on the wall, it slipping through her hands a bit before it became loose. Not the best, but at least she’d have something.

Just as the extinguisher came off where it was hung, a question was poised. Bella held the cold metal object in her hand. That question gave her pause.

What happens after you kill him?

Bella didn’t even look at the girl who said it, only staring down at the extinguisher. She still wasn’t sure of the name, only that she was a classmate, but it weighed a lot on her. It meant having a plan, knowing what comes after… you know.

“I’ll... I'll come back as soon as possible”, the words came out of her mouth, still as icy and low as ever.

It was an answer.

Bella pulled herself towards the way Aidan indicated, her footsteps feeling heavy.

Gene had left the drama club when she and others criticized him. Not only that, but he left in the middle of recitals. Bella had felt sad when he left, wondering if she went too far. Maybe a bit nicer, that would have been better. She knew people had resented him for it. But now she was doing this. She was going to find him.

It was the first time in her life she had ever actually considered murder. Even in her haze, she realized it. Sure, sometimes she would talk about what she would do if she were in SOTF, or how she would fight off some criminals or killers or something in a moment of escapism. Sometimes she would play Champions with people. But murder was never a question in her life up until now.

Bella focused on walking away, away from the smell filling her nostrils. Away from the broken boy laying in Aidan’s arms, who only reminded her of what she failed to do when he needed her most. And towards the one person who she wanted to see go away forever.

((Bella Bianchi continued in Rock the Flock))

[General Goose]

Gene was dangerous. Erratic. Foolish. Temperamental. Sociopathic. There wasn't enough time to think of all the words in the dictionary to describe him, let alone synonyms, so as the girl - Bella, her name was - left, Yagmur decided there and then to follow her.

"I'll go with her," he announced without a second's hesitation, not knowing who he was addressing. The rest of the group? The people at home? Himself? "Make sure she has backup if things with Gene go ugly." He was even less sure who he was addressing with that.

He turned and left, making sure to keep distance. He could tell Bella needed her space.

((Yagmur Tekindor continued in Rock the Flock.))

[Maraoone]

And so Bella and Yagmur left Cathryn here with two people she didn't know for their manhunt, leaving her to put the pieces and phrases and out-of-context words together to figure out what happened. She had no idea who Gene was, so presumably he was from their school. Heard the name before, a couple names after Leah. She wouldn't intervene in whatever they planned. After all, Cathryn knew what she'd do if she knew where Lucia was. The only question was how.

It was a mess. Everything, that is. So much red, too much. Like Naomi. And now she was left with another two people from Davison. Bella said she'd come back, but what if she didn't? It was scary how ordered this chaos was becoming. Third time. Third time she'd be abandoned, second time she'd find other people. If she didn't come back, then these two would be her new partners, her companions, perhaps.

And so it would repeat. And so they say their hello's and hi's and walk to some random destination. And so they sleep, and just when they begin to get to know each other, a Jewel or Gene or Vahka comes and kills one of them. Maybe the boy sobbing next to Will's corpse, a corpse that had been smiling and talking and breathing and moving a few minutes ago. Or maybe the girl stuttering out questions and answers. And the other one would disappear, run off somewhere. And maybe she'd find other people, because it's all that's happened to her. Joy, followed by monotony, maybe some navel-gazing, anger, always anger, followed by shock, fear, followed by joy.

And so it'd repeat.

And so she followed the next step of her routine, the hello's and hi's, how and who are you's, because what else could she possibly say in this situation? She didn't know them, they were grieving, recovering, getting their senses back, and honestly, she couldn't relate. She was shocked, disgusted and dismayed maybe, but not grieving. She couldn't afford that. Anger, wrath at Gene, at Lucia, definitely. But not sadness.

And so she spoke, biting her lips once more and looking at the ground.

"I. I just... I'm so sorry for what happened. I can't believe..."

Different avenue. Condolences wouldn't help Cathryn with Leah, so maybe they wouldn't help them. Nothing she could say would help. Just say your 'who are you's'.

"I'm sorry. What's your name? Names, I mean. I'm Cathryn."

[Pippi]

((Skipping to avoid inactivity, sorry))

“I... w-wait, hang on...”

Too late. Bella and the strange boy had already left in the same direction that Gene had. She hadn’t exactly tried her hardest to stop them, but what else could she do? Or, more to the point, what else was she willing to do? Gene had killed before, she had killed one of her friends, and there was always the chance he would kill again. Bella was probably angry and desperate, and, looking at Will’s body, so was Lucia. And if she really, really did want to stop them, how would she be able to? By threatening to shoot them if they left? That would only end one way, with Lucia’s name being read out on the announcements for the final time.

Lucia knew that the only reason she had considered stopping the two was because she could so easily be in Gene’s shoes right now.

Instead, Lucia stood there dumbly as Bella and the boy disappeared, leaving her with Aidan still clutching Will’s body and a strange girl from the other school. Lucia didn’t know where Laura was. Maybe she had run off at the first sound of trouble, if she had any sense.

Lucia didn’t want to look at him any more than she had to, but Will’s body was like a magnet to her vision. Or, more accurately, a black hole, drawing in everything towards it. When had she last seen Will? At Ana’s party, wasn’t it? Him, and Lisa, and Ana of course, and... and Shawn. She had left that night with little resolved and an even greater sense of unease than when she’d arrived.

And now Lisa and Will were dead, and Ana and Shawn were god knows where. Lucia had hardly thought about them since first waking up. It was selfish, maybe. But she just hadn’t been granted an opportunity to think about her friends when her own life had been on the line.

Lucia was only half paying attention to Cathryn. The girl’s question registered in her mind and she answered instinctively, on auto-pilot.

“Um... hello... I-I’m Lucia...”

It took a few seconds for Lucia to realise she might not have said the right thing.

[Maraoone]

"Last name, please."

The other boy hadn't responded, and honestly, he didn't need to. All she needed to know, all she ever needed to know, it'd be from Lucia.

She'd turned her gaze to Lucia's face, studying every detail, memorizing it. Looked Italian, short blonde hair, pink tips. Brown eyes, small nose. She might be looking at the face of a killer. Might. God, Lucia better hope her last name isn't del Pirlo.

"Tell me, now."

[Pippi]

“I...”

Lucia’s mouth opened and closed, trying to formulate some sort of lie in her head, her heart pounding against her chest like a jackhammer. She had finally found somebody that had reason to get revenge on her, judging by Cathryn’s reaction. Lucia knew she was seconds away from becoming Cathryn’s very own Gene Steward.

And just when Lucia needed her mind to be as clear and logical as possible, it failed her entirely. There were so many lies floating around in Lucia’s head and not one of them made sense. Surely Cathryn could work out who exactly Lucia was from her oh-so un-subtle reaction. Lucia was shaking again, stammering yet with unclear sounds coming out rather than anything substantial. After what felt like an eternity, Lucia finally blurted something out, anything that might possibly help.

“I... uh... d-does it matter? M-my last name... I d-don’t... d-don’t...”

Pathetic. All she had to do was say one sentence. Hell, not even that, just one fake name and Cathryn would have no way of knowing who she was. Instead, she’d launched straight on the defensive. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

Lucia looked down at the ground, then at Aidan, praying that he’d somehow be able to give her some guidance, and wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

[Maraoone]

Confirmed. Leah's killer was standing in front of her.

She stood still for a few seconds, not really sure what to do, her facial expression staying clear. When she smashed all those portraits, when she screamed and tried to reduce some of the anger, the never-ending anger, she'd only had Lucia on her mind. Lucia screaming, begging for sorry's, writhing in pain, getting everything she ever deserved. There was so much she wanted to do to this stranger, to this face she'd never seen before. She couldn't decide which course of action was better.

But eventually, what pushed her to finally act were the questions, the last bits of Leah she could collect. How was she, how she looked, what her last words were, if she died in pain or in laughter, in a second or in an eon. The last remnants of those special memories. And while part of her never wanted to know, wanted to keep those memories untainted, without the thoughts of Leah in distress, the other part had an unsatiable curiosity. She needed to know.

And so she asked her questions.

"What'd she do? Leah, I mean, not the other person you killed. Was she just in the wrong place?"

[Pippi]

((Ack, sorry this took so long. Honestly didn't realise how much time had passed))

Cathryn’s complete lack of action was utterly terrifying. It was clear that she’d seen through Lucia’s utterly useless facade by now, and Lucia had known exactly how Cathryn was supposed to react. She should have been like Laura or the three strangers in the Diner, recoiling in shock at the fact that a known killer was standing in front of her, or drawing her weapon, whatever it may be, for the same reason. Lucia was prepared for that to happen, no matter how sick or disgusted at herself it made her.

That was how Cathryn was supposed to react. She wasn’t supposed to just stand there, unmoving, emotions completely hidden. Her expression was completely unreadable. Lucia felt like she was learning to read English all over again. She knew that what was presented in front of her was supposed to mean something, but she had no idea what.

A very small part of Lucia wished she had the ability to appear as outwardly stoic as Cathryn was right now. Maybe then her defense might have been considered almost credible. Instead, she felt an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu, as she was forced to hold her gun in both shaking hands, constantly looking over at Aidan for guidance, waiting for Cathryn to do something.

When Cathryn finally spoke, it took a second for the request to fully sink in. It seemed she was a friend-or rather, had been a friend-of Leah, which explained her steely look a few moments ago. And all she wanted to do was ask questions?

Lucia hardly dared to hope that Cathryn would remain relatively peaceful. She had every reason not to, after all. But maybe she was like Aidan, maybe she wanted to try and stay rational and see what exactly had happened with Lucia and Leah before making any rash decisions.

What were the chances of that, with the girl standing in front of her friend’s killer? Slim to nonexistent, most likely. But, like with Aidan and his plans for escaping, she wasn’t left with many other choices. So maybe, if she answered these questions and Cathryn liked the answers, everything for Lucia would turn out okay...

“I... we w-were in the sports centre... uh, me, and Aidan and, ah, Laura... and... and Leah suddenly appeared from a... a d-different room. She... she started running t-towards us, and...  and she had a gun, and I... I...”

Lucia couldn’t finish her sentence. Nor could she look at Cathryn. Instead, Lucia looked down at her feet, hoping that her last few words would be able to save herself.

“I never meant to... never wanted to sh-shoot her... I just... I was so scared...”

[Maraoone]

"Fuck you for lying to me. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

Cathryn finally allowed her face to betray a bit of that fury, her breathing quickening and her lips turning slightly downwards. Her voice never rose. It shook a bit, yes, but she never shouted or changed her tone. Part of her was still trying desperately to hold on to the calm, to the rationality despite it being against her wills, her desires because it still needed answers. But it was failing, its fingers slowly slipping from the edge.

"Stop putting up this act of being scared or vulnerable because you killed two people, two. She wasn't one to rush people just like that-"

Damion. Leah had killed Damion. Before Leah's death itself, this was the fact that haunted her every minute, because the two ideas were near impossible to reconcile. When you think of a person, someone who's close, beloved to you, you think of their good traits first and foremost. And this was how it went with Cathryn regarding Leah. She liked the earnestness, the sincerity, and simply the sheer niceness that she exuded. That was what always came to mind when someone mentioned Leah. But she had a dark side, one that hadn't occurred to Cathryn until right then.

Leah was paranoid, and her trust was incredibly hard to gain. They both had had similarly bad experiences in middle school, with all the bullies and snickering and all, because Whittree was simply a toxic place. Always was, always would be. Cathryn had responded to this by fighting back. Leah had responded to this by never quite learning to trust again. They only managed to get close to one another through circumstance. They were both in choir, and were placed right next to each other. Single-word exchanges between them grew into casual conversations, which grew into actual, interesting discussions. And even when they talked about stuff, it was always about topics like whatever creepypasta Leah had decided to scare herself with, or even the weather if there was nothing else to talk about. Talking about themselves was taboo. The only reason she knew about this was because they'd mention it in offhand comments. Nothing they should've dwelled on.

So, now Cathryn stood there, interrupted mid-conversation, as she added the pieces together.

Leah was fragile. Paranoid. And she'd been placed in SOTF-TV. And this meant,

"She's not a killer, she's not a killer, she's not a killer, she's not a killer..."

And Cathryn couldn't stop repeating that one phrase because maybe, just maybe, if she said it enough, she could convince herself and everyone else that it was true, Because Leah wasn't a killer, she wasn't supposed to be one. There was no way, no way that her only friend had snapped, become another one of those psychos, no way, no way, no way.

But, this insidious belief, this toxic belief, it seeped into Cathryn's mind and slowly took root, and soon it became more plausible. It clashed with her rage, her anger, because she still wanted Lucia dead. Someone needed to pay for the fact that everything had been taken from Cathryn, and who else should pay but Lucia? But what if she was within her rights? What if she wasn't lying? What if Leah really had charged her? What if?

And the seconds passed, and while this storm went on inside her head, Cathryn still stood frozen, gone to the world. And finally, after so long, she acted.

"Hope you don't find me again."

She ran outside, and found herself in the midst of the snow-covered forests, hidden to everyone but the millions of eyes probing her every move. She'd regret this. She'd regret this for the rest of her days, and what she did next would always haunt her, always bring her shame. Instead of screaming, or shouting at the nearest camera, she simply sunk down to the ground, and allowed herself to be engulfed by that one forbidden emotion, the one she'd hoped she'd never experience again. Two days, and it'd come to this already.

She sunk down to the ground, hid her face in her knees. And then, her body started convulsing as she sobbed.

((Cathryn Bailey continues in Makeup))

[Pippi]

Lucia wished that Cathryn’s reaction had surprised her. She wished that her accusations of lying and labelling Lucia as a killer were shocking things, things that should have taken Lucia aback. Her words hurt, of course, especially being called a liar. She never lied, not to anyone, and the idea that she was lying about something she had never expected or wished to lie about... yeah, it stung.

But what stung most was the realisation that Lucia had been predicting this all along, ever since the incident in the diner. Of course Cathryn didn’t trust her. No matter what she had said, in her eyes, Lucia was the girl who shot her best friend in cold blood. That was how Cathryn saw her, and that was surely how so many others saw her too.

Lucia looked up at Cathryn, tears forming in her eyes, but she didn’t dare argue or fight back. She wanted Cathryn to believe her and to trust her. She wanted to get home to safety, and she wanted that for everyone else on the resort too, even the people she’d never met in her life. But Cathryn was showing right there and then just how hard it would be for that to happen.

So Lucia stood there, gun pointed at the floor, an apology in her throat that was never quite able to make it out of her mouth. Even as Cathryn herself started breaking down in front of her, Lucia did nothing. She knew Leah wasn’t a killer, no matter what the announcements might have tried to make them all believe. Whatever had happened with Damion had every chance of being a moment of madness.

One small, panicky, moment of madness, thinking you were doing the right thing. Then it was all over.

Cathryn finally left, her words echoing Lucia’s thoughts. She stood there for a minute or so longer, just watching the space Cathryn had been in, nothing and everything swirling around her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Aidan, still cradling Will as if he was only asleep. Lucia looked down at the ground again, furiously rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, before slowly walking towards the museum’s exit.

“I... I... I am g-going for... a walk, Aidan. I will... I’ll be right back...”

She needed some time alone.

The question was whether she’d finally get it.

((Lucia del Pirlo, continued in Psycho Beach Party))

[Mini_Help]

"Aidan?"

Aidan didn't know how long the beeping had been going on when the voice echoed from his collar. It felt like a while, a few minutes at least, but he'd been so deep in thought that the sound hadn't made it past his subconscious. He knew what it meant, but that seemed distant and unimportant. He knew what a lot of things meant now, a lot of things more important and pressing than the beeping of his collar.

"Aidan?"

He knew what Will lying in his lap meant. He knew what Gene's flight meant. He knew what his own inability to pull it together meant. These were some of the reasons he wasn't so concerned with the beeping.

Aidan was alone now. He had been for a while, he thought. The others had all left, and he couldn't blame them. He'd done nothing to keep them from going, had barely even acknowledged their continued existence. It hadn't been very polite or strategic. Couldn't be good for his image. And now any semblance of safety or a plan he'd had was lying in pieces. All he had was Will, Will in his lap, not moving. The announcements had been on at some point in there. He felt like something really important had been said, but couldn't remember what. A lot had happened, but he was content to coast for the moment.

But then the voice came and cut through the fuzz, and as much as Aidan wanted to push it back into unimportance, he instead forced himself together, just a little. He moved his lips into a fake smile, though he did not turn his gaze away from Will.

"Yes?" he said.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew you're sitting in a danger zone. I know you're hurting. If this is what you want, so be it. But think carefully. If you leave now, you can always change your mind later."

Aidan's smile vanished from his face in an instant. The beeping was fast by now. He was sitting down on the ground, Will's body in his lap. The door was there, still hanging open. He might be able to follow after Lucia and the others. After all, he'd talked her down. He'd calmed down a killer. Maybe he could still be of some use.

Jaxon and Will were dead. Aidan might be able to hold on for a while, to scramble for life and meaning at the expense of self and dignity. He knew there were some things he couldn't do, though, and that meant that any time he might find in this place was borrowed. Out there, there was no knowing who might hurt him or what might happen to him. Here and now, at least, he was in his own private world for a few minutes more, just him and the friend he should have somehow saved.

"Thanks for checking," he said to the air.

He rolled his shoulders and straightened his clothes a little. They were messed up pretty badly from everything. He couldn't even get upset about that. He just rested his hand against Will's shoulder, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the wall to wait.

CS5, Aidan Adelman: DECEASED