Fear Itself

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in an empty cot. Avery was gone, and there was no trace of him save for the indentation he had left in the stiff mattress. I brushed my hair out of my face and let my eyes adjust to the darkness before finally forcing myself up. I swung my legs out first and carefully lowered my feet until my toes felt the cement below. I slid my feet along, tearing the bandages in certain places as my hand searched the wall for a light switch. When the lights flickered on, the room lit up, illuminating everything, including the pair of shoes I had been searching for since I tossed them so haphazardly off my feet the night before. I slipped them back on with great care, trying to avoid anymore pain. I laced them up, trying not to feel absolutely disgusting as I had been wearing the same clothes for over a full day now.

I wished that Avery had stayed, honestly, but I assumed he had things to tend to, just as most adults did. My father certainly went to work five days a week for an ungodly amount of time. This wasn’t really any different from that, I supposed, except for the fact that I was alone in a strange place where nobody wanted to help me out. There was no food, no water, no showers, no nothing. I was desperate for food but also for clean clothes and even clean hair. I wasn’t in a good state, but I didn’t have much of a choice considering the circumstances. I was stuck here until somebody decided to get me out. Besides, everyone else I had met down here smelled less than desirable (at least with the exception of Dean, the man in the shiny uniform); I suppose I wasn’t too off from the norm at this point.

Yawning and stretching, I let myself adjust to being awake, still hungry no less (not a feeling I necessarily enjoyed), and the pang of hunger deep in my stomach was enough to send me out of the room in search of food, but when I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Sam, Dean, and Alex seated at a small, white table. A single chair sat on the opposite side, probably for me, I thought, and Dean confirmed my suspicions when his left hand motion to the chair. “Sit,” he told me. “Please.” A strangely chipper smile was spread across his face, and I hoped that this meant good news besides the quivering, blank slate on Sam and the look of sheer aggravation etched into Alex’s face.

Sam stared at me with obvious caution while Alex refused to even glance in my direction. His chair was turned on a diagonal, facing more the tunnels than me when I hesitantly took the seat across from the three men. I sat in silence, waiting for someone to do something, say something, anything, until Dean chuckled softly and kicked his feet up onto the table, leaning back with nonchalance I didn’t see in the two men acting as his bookends. “We’ve got some fabulous news for you,” he explained, looking to me with a smile as he folded his hands together in front of him, elbows positioned on the arms of his chair. “You live to see another day, Blondie.”

Too tired to grasp the fact that they had nearly decided to kill me, I just shook my head. “My name is Thalia,” I corrected him.

“Mazeltov,” Dean replied in a honeyed, confident voice, clearly not really listening to what I was saying at all. “So, you’re free to go.”

“B-but—” Sam stuttered out in a quavering voice. I could see him wringing his hands nervously in his lap, finger tips trembling, but there was a serious look on his face. He wasn’t one for socializing, I could see that clearly, but it didn’t seem so much out of fear as much as it seemed that Sam simply couldn’t be bothered with people. He stuttered himself speechless before Dean threw himself back into conversation.

“What my brother here is trying to say,” he interjected, resuming the previous charisma, charisma that his brother seemed to lack. “Is that we’re giving you a get out of jail free card, and we’re giving you the benefit of the doubt here, Blondie.” He leaned up again, placing his feet back on the floor. His elbows rested on the end of the table, and he leaned in closer to me. I thought I smelled a hint of cologne. “Personally, I don’t think you know enough to say anything. Not to mention, you clearly don’t know how to lie because you’ve never been in a position to do so. Thanks to me, you will be returning home alive.”

“But if you blab, we will kill you,” Alex finally piped up, only acknowledging me for mere seconds. A look of shock fixed on my face; I thought I had been home free and in the clear. A bitter chuckle escaped his throat, and he shook his head, bewildered. “We do know where you live, just remember that.”

Glowering, my narrowed eyes fell upon him. “Um, yeah,” I retorted, snapping at him with obvious offense.. “I do remember that, actually, because you were the one who rolled through my window and held a gun to my head. So, yeah, I remember. Thanks.”

Alex rolled his eyes at me and turned his head in the other direction. Dean held his hands in the air to proclaim his innocence and chuckled. “That one wasn’t my idea, Blondie,” he explained, not really bothering to keep the grin on his face from spreading. “Ignore Eyebrows. He’s got a bad attitude. Everyone thinks so.” Alex shot Dean a look, and Dean merely shrugged. “What? It’s true, mate.”

In one swift motion, Alex rose to his feet with a huff. “This whole thing is pointless,” he quipped bitterly. “Somebody should just take her home and get this over with. If you all think she’s dead weight, then get rid of her. It’s that simple.”

“Alex,” Dean said slowly, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Slow your roll there, mate. I’m sorry I made fun of your eyebrows.”

“Pssh,” Alex scoffed. “No, you aren’t, and you bloody well know it.” Dean tried to interject, but Alex sighed. “That’s not the point, anyway. The point is that you all want her gone, so somebody needs to take care of it.”

“Actually,” I piped up over their mud-slinging for just a moment. “I want in.”

Simultaneously, all three heads snapped toward me, and the men laughed in unison,” What?”

“Blondie,” Dean said through a laugh. “Are you absolutely positive about this? Do you even know what you’re signing up for?”

Quietly, Sam leaned in toward Dean and muttered, “I don’t think you should question it. She could be perfect for intel.”

Decisively, Dean nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed. “Granted, she would need to learn how to lie first, but practice makes perfect. We’ll just um… how do you teach someone to lie?” He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment in thought. Alex stood above us all, off to the side of the table, and his face was fixed in a look of shocked hostility.

“Excuse you all,” he contended. “Intel is my job. I’m the one who gathers all the information here, not some delicate little butterfly with sparkly eyes and pretty blonde hair that you’ve all suddenly decided you like.”

“Oh, come now, Alex,” Dean answered gently. “You know yours are the only eyebrows in my life. Nobody can take that from you.”

Alex was clearly unamused with all of this. “Fine,” he announced, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Fine, you can take your new little piece, and you can train her. You can put the bitch on a leash and show her the ropes, but she’s not my responsibility.”

“What is your problem?” I retorted, not really looking for an answer, just peeved and downright offended about how he was clearly slinging insults. “What gives you the right to slander me?” I asked.

“Slander,” he laughed, jeering. There was a small scowl painted on his features, but it wasn’t like the scowl I had seen on Avery. This one was directed right at me, and I narrowed my eyes in response, glaring right back at him, even as he continued. “No one’s slandering you, muppet,” he sneered. “Just stating the facts.”

“Muppet?” I demanded. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Muppet, sweetheart, means dimwit,” he explained scornfully, laughing at me. “A point which you’ve just proven quite clearly.” He stood straight, obviously proud of himself. I just rolled my eyes.

“Well, at least I don’t look like I’ve got pubes glued above my eyes,” I retorted, giving him the sweetest possible smile I could until his scowl overtook his entire face.

Alex slammed his hands down on the table, and I jumped in my seat, blinking as his face came closer, glaring at me. “You watch yourself, love,” he threatened. “You don’t know shit about what you’re getting yourself into.” With that he stood back up, exiting rather abruptly.

Having been able to contain his laughter this long, Dean collapsed into a fit so hard I thought he might start crying. It brought a grin to my face. “Oh, oh wow,” he sputtered through a laugh. “Oh, Sam, she’s just brill.” Sam cracked a small grin as Dean continued chuckling. He sat up straight again and held his hand in the air. “Up top, Blondie,” he said. Hoping I was correct, I followed suit and slapped hands with him. “Boy, I knew letting you live was a good idea. Nobody ever puts that arsehole in his place.”

Grinning, I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. I wasn’t aware that such nonsense was entertaining to people; then again, seeing the scowl on Alex’s face had been a little more than amusing. My eyes glanced to Sam, who was also grinning like an idiot, though I don’t think he wanted to admit how amusing he had found the display. “Welcome t-to the team, Thalia,” he said to me, still nervous, but smiling.

“I prefer Tali, actually,” I quietly corrected, happy that he was speaking, so much so that I didn’t want to scare him off.

“Tali,” he repeated with a nod.

“Well, I prefer Blondie,” Dean decided with a nod. “So Blondie it is.” I laughed softly, and my gaze traveled between the two brothers who looked almost nothing like each other: Dean had smooth, sandy blonde hair perfectly styled and a face fit for Prince Charming, while Sam, with his mousy, disheveled, golden brown waves, looked like he belonged living down here in the tunnels. “Anyway,” Dean continued as he started to rise from his chair. “I’m late for a meeting with the Commander—“

“Kennedy?” I asked suddenly, cutting him off, looking up at him curiously.

“Yeah, him,” Dean added. “We have lunch from time to time, and I’m about to be late, so I’ve gotta run, but you’re free to go as you please,” he told me before promptly taking off.

So he was real. Commander Kennedy was not simply a television fixture. Kennedy existed, though I didn’t know much about him. I was sure if I asked somebody would explain. “Sam?” I asked, looking to the last remaining human by me. His eyes suddenly went wide like a deer in headlights.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered, rising to his feet. “Got work to do now.” He shuffled with a couple of papers placed on the table in front of him.

“Don’t you want to stay and talk?” I inquired, practically begging him to stay and chat for a little while just so I didn’t have to sit by myself any longer.

He looked at me with confusion for a moment, but the look on his face was quickly washed out by stark stoicism. “I don’t talk,” he told me before rushing off toward his office and slamming the door behind him.

“But I—” I desperately tried to say before he vanished. I sat alone in the single chair now, surrounded by nothing more than blank walls and the darkness leading out into the metro tunnels. “Who is going to take me home?” I asked quietly, more to myself than to the overwhelming absence of people around me.