Omega The Girl in the Box

18.



The fading shadows of day were growing long when I reached my quarters. The darkening sky reflected the grim sadness closing in on me as I lay on my couch and waited for the sun to set. I felt like I was being swallowed up in the inevitability of the darkness. I thought of Scott, and how I’d seen him earlier, a shell of his former self, and I wallowed in misery like he did. In spite of my brave face for Reed, I worried about when Omega was coming, about what form their attack would take, and who, if anyone, would be taken. I felt my cheek against the soft velvet of the chair I was lying against, and I watched the darkness descend in my room as the shadows rose along the walls with the fall of day, and I felt hopeless, truly hopeless, for the first time in a long time.

A knock woke me from a sleep I didn’t even know I was in. I hesitated at the door. “Who is it?”

“No one,” came Zack’s voice from the other side. “Well, maybe someone. I dunno. What do you think?”

I opened the door to see him standing tall, wearing a sweater that made him look particularly dashing, kind of...homespun, in a way. I pulled him to me, letting the door close. I kissed him full on the lips for as long as I thought I could get away with, and then hugged him tight, felt the fuzz of his sweater against my cheek. “You’re somebody to me.”

“Whoa, there,” he said. “Take it easy on that meta strength.” I loosened the grip, not realizing how hard I had been holding him, and he smiled down at me. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his smile fading. “What’s wrong?”

“Reed left,” I said, stifling emotion. “His bosses ordered him home, and he didn’t want to go, but Old Man Winter told him to, so...he left.”

Zack did not react to this for a moment, almost seeming like he was rocking back on his heels. “Wow. I guess I figured Reed would stick around no matter what.”

“He wanted to,” I said, leading Zack back to the couch. “He really wanted to, but...he’ll be back in a few days.” I sat down on the couch and Zack sat on the arm of it. He seemed uncomfortable, and I looked at him quizzically but he waved it off. “I don’t know. I think it’s gonna get bad.”

“I don’t get it,” Zack said. “We’ve captured three of their operatives in the last few days, I mean, some tough ones, too, as I understand it. Fries is a pretty nasty incubus from the reports I’ve read. Bjorn didn’t sound like a real picnic; I mean, for strength he had to be top of the scale, and this last one, Madigan—I haven’t seen the report yet, but a Thor-type? Nasty. They’re throwing their A-listers at you, and you’re bouncing them back like they’re nothing.” He gave me an encouraging smile. “Unless this Operation Stanchion consists of stacking all their people in our jail cells until they burst at the seams, it would appear that they are losing this round so far.” He hesitated, and looked to me for approval. “Wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “No. I don’t know. The problem is the uncertainty. Yeah, you’re right, we’ve kicked the ass of everything they’ve sent along so far, with some skill, some luck—but it just feels like...they’re in the shadows. They’re unknown. We’re in the dark, waiting for something bad to happen. You ever have that? Where you’re waiting for something you think is gonna be bad, and it comes and it wasn’t as bad as what you anticipated?”

“Sure,” Zack said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. The fact that you’re beating their best, taking down every meta they throw at you...doesn’t that give you some confidence that with everything we’ve got at our disposal, that we can take whatever they push at us and cram it right back down their throat?”

“Maybe. I just know that what they’ve thrown at us so far hasn’t exactly gone down painlessly.” I pointed to the wall, on the other side of which lay Scott’s quarters. “Look at what happened to Kat. She’s never gonna remember a thousand things about her relationship with Scott. And that’s pretty mild as far as consequences go, but it’s devastated him. What if they kill someone? What if their attack is focused, and determined, and draws a bead on one person and just...takes them out?” I bit my lip. “That’s what I’m afraid of. That this time they’re not coming to capture me at all, that they’re coming to kill Old Man Winter so that they hit the Directorate in a place where it never recovers.”

Zack slid off the arm of the couch to sit next to me. “It’s sweet that you’re more worried about the Director than yourself in all this.”

“I worry about you, too, lunkhead,” I said, and put my head on his shoulder, letting my hair flow down his chest. “Humans are just disposable foot soldiers to Omega.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Zack said, and I could hear the tightness in his voice. “A lot of my buddies died when they decided to wipe out our agent ranks, you know.”

“I know.” I let my hand run along the front of his sweater, coming to rest on his collar. I wasn’t wearing my gloves, because I hadn’t bothered to replace the ones Eve had sullied with one of the numerous spare sets in my closet yet. I avoided his skin, instead rubbing the soft threads between my thumb and forefinger. “You should get out of here for a few days. Maybe take a vacation.”

I felt his head turn more than saw it. I didn’t want to read his reaction, but I heard it in his voice. “You know I’m not leaving you.”

I felt the weight of my head against his shoulder, and I wondered if it felt like the weight of the world to him. “Yeah. I know.”

He took his hand and ran it across my cheek and I realized for the first time he was wearing a glove, a very soft, almost skin-like glove. I glanced down, expecting to see fabric but saw a flesh-toned color in its stead. “You like it?”

I ran my hand across his, felt the ripple of my nerves, my flesh, as we touched for longer than we ever had before. “Did you...?”

“Picked it up this afternoon,” he said with a ready smile. “Doc Sessions made it more flesh-colored, said he thought that’d be less...I dunno, odd or something.” He pulled his sleeve up and I saw his arm, covered with the material of the suit. I ran a hand up his to his bicep and gave it a squeeze, as though I were touching him, really touching him. “You like?”

“I like.” I let my fingers stay on his arm, then ran them further up his sleeve to his shoulder. “And it goes...?”

“Pretty much everywhere,” he said, pulling down his turtleneck to reveal the top edge of the suit around his neck. “Hands, feet, toes, and uh...” he hesitated, “everywhere in between. It stretches, too,” he said, suddenly looking uncomfortable, “so, you know...it uh...it works uhm...well. And whatnot.”

My hands found their way down to the bottom of his sweater, and I lifted the bottom edge of it, sliding my hands along his waist, working the material of the suit between my fingers, feeling it give and stretch as I kneaded it. “And you can feel everything through it? It’s not...”

“Oh, yes,” he said, nodding. “I can feel everything. It’s thin, really thin, and it’s almost like touching, no barrier in the way.” I leaned in and nuzzled his neck, kissing the area covered by the thin sheen of the suit, and I heard him take a sharp inhalation. “Yep. I can definitely feel that.” I broke away and came up after a moment and my eyes met his. “Are you sure you’re ready?” His whole face was patient expectation mixed with desire, and I could read it in him as though it were written in letters across his chest, his face.

“I’m ready,” I said. “I’ve been ready for this for...so long. I just...we still have to be careful.”

He smiled. “We’ll take our time.” His hand ran along my arm, taking my hand, his fingers threaded through mine, no glove, as real as if he were truly touching me. I felt the warmth, the pressure of his squeeze, and I closed my eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I tried to return his smile but it faltered.

“You sure?” he asked, and I felt the concern in his touch this time, the way the pressure was different, no leather between my hand and his, no cold cowhide holding back the subtleness of his caress.

I opened my eyes. “I’m sure.” I kissed him again, and then stood, taking his hand in mine. “Never been surer of anything.”

He ran his hand over my cheek, a caress I’d felt a thousand times briefly. This time it lingered, sweetly. I felt his hand in mine, and I looked in his eyes. I led him toward my bedroom, just as we had a hundred times before. But this time was different, new, unfamiliar, and when we passed through I shut the door behind me, as though I could close out all the distractions, all the worries, all the thoughts of Reed, and Omega, and Old Man Winter, and leave them outside. I closed the door and we went inside, and left everything of the outside world behind until morning.