Chomping at the Bit

By the time the elevator ride was over, I was able to kind of stand if Devon helped me. Being dropped on the floor hadn't deterred my relentless teasing, but as the ketamine wore off, so did my flippant mood.

And the headache was coming back from when Melvin had suckerpunched me.

"Did someone hit you?" Devon asked me, his expression serious.

I had to really think about it. "Y-es. Melvin got me with a cheap-ass shot when I was minding my own damn business, contemplating the murder," I grumbled, referencing Mindy.

So I was still a bit inebriated.

Devon made a face. "What murder?"

He didn't get an answer out of me, so he moved on. "Anyway, your face is bruised on the side. I'm taking you to see someone."

"No! Take me to the predator. They're stealing him away from me," I whined, half walking with and half being carried by Devon. "My face is fine."

Even though I said that, the area was tender to the touch.

"Nope, we're going to forensics to see the nurse and that's final," Devon said.

I let out another petulant whine. "But Devo-on!"

He shook his head and held me tighter against his side. "It doesn't matter, anyway. They're long gone by now, headed out to a private airport out north. You are going to the nurse's office right away."

/Nurse's office./ I rolled my eyes. /What a dork./

"I'm okay," I insisted, even as I hung limply off of him.

"You can barely stand let alone walk anywhere."

I chewed on the inside of my lip, aware of how close I was to Devon; the pressure of his arm around my waist and his fingers against my wrist, my arm draped over his shoulder.

"We'll figure out where they're going and what we can do after we make sure you're ok," he assured me.

Swallowing, I pressed my lips together before speaking. "We know where they're going. It's the 'what we can do' part that has me worried."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

I didn't know whether I should tell him or not—how I wanted to free the predator and eradicate the xenos. Part of me wondered if he hadn't already figured it out.

There was still the matter of whether he'd rat me out if I told him everything, too. He probably wouldn't understand, and I wasn't sure how to make him understand, either.

"It doesn't matter what I want if I don't know how I'm going to do it," I ended up telling him.

Hey, I was getting more coherent. I also felt more attached to my body instead of just an observer, even able to make it do things I wanted to again, though I was still unsteady on my feet.

Devon seemed like he wanted to say something, then thought better of it.

After a second of reconstructing his thoughts, he said, "Nichole . . . I'm here for you, y'know? We're partners."

I bit back the "because you love me" taunt I'd been so fond of before. I was in control now, even if it was just my thoughts and words.

"You just saved my life on a hunch," I replied, staring at the path ahead of us.

/And yet here I am, wondering if I can trust you./

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing more as he led me through the hall.

"Why'd you kill the queen?" Devon asked out of the blue, careful and nonchalant.

There were two answers—the real one and the less-real-but-still-kind-of-true answer. When I took too long to decide which version to give him, he pressed the matter.

"Nichole? Why'd you do it?"

"Sorry," I muttered.

He would have to be satisfied by the half-truth for now. The less Devon knew about my sordid plot, the better it would be for him in the long run.

"That lady that was in there, she was going to let the queen out and get everyone impregnated so she'd have more 'children'," I muttered, struggling with some of the details. "I did what I had to do."

He tightened his grip around my waist, electrifying my skin and making me squirm with discomfort.

"What was wrong with them?" he asked, that darkness seeping into his tone. "Did they go totally bonkers locked up in that lab all day and night or something?"

It took a moment for me to remember. "No—no it wasn't that . . . well, I guess something like that but . . ."

"But what?"

"Mindy, the one I had to—um, the one with the queen, she was mentioning some sort of jelly the queen secretes or something. They'd been experimenting with it and studying it."

"And?"

Forcing my heavy limbs to move was taking its toll on my stamina. My feet dragged and Devon was all but carrying me toward our destination. He paused to let me catch my breath.

People walking by tried to stop and help or ask questions, but Devon always shooed them away.

When I was ready, I continued. "And—and I'm not really sure. They said, well she said, that she was getting, visions or dreams or something. Tried to tell me that the queen was talking to her or some shit."

"Hallucinations? Or . . . ?"

"I don't know," I groaned.

We continued onward and Devon was deep in thought alongside me. Something occurred to me and I shook my head.

"I don't know, but they, the xenomorphs, they work on a hive mind, right? Like ants and bees? Maybe the—whatever the queen makes gave them glimpses of it?" I theorized.

"How would it do that?"

"I—how would I know? I'm not a scientist."

He chuckled. "I can tell."

His posture had relaxed compared to before and it was good to have him back to normal, or at least almost back to normal: the tendon in his neck was still tense.

After a bit, we wound up in a place I had only seen a couple times since being hired: the forensics lab. There weren't many people in it for the moment, most of them at computers or reading paperwork.

"Nurse Lee!" Devon shouted.

A few people glanced up at the commotion, then openly gawked as Devon dragged me in. One of them came running over, red-faced and disgruntled.

"Devon, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'nurse'? I have a doctorate in forensic science for God's sake!" the man growled, stopping before us.

"Ah, you're no fun."

"What stray have you brought me?" Lee asked, giving me a concerned look.

"This is my partner, Agent Nichole Shain. She was attacked and drugged by some mad scientists," Devon said with a completely straight face.

Lee stared at him, his mouth agape, and said "You can't be . . . by God you're serious. Is he serious?"

I nodded.

"Alright, sit her down over here. We've got a first aid kit and some other things I'll go grab," Lee said, motioning to a table and some chairs. "Do you know what they gave her?"

"Ketamine, I think," said Devon.

"And how are you feeling?" Lee asked me.

"Better, I guess. I'm not hallucinating and can move better," I replied.

Lee nodded. "Good, then it's wearing off. Let me grab something for that bruise. I'll be back lickety split."

With Devon's help, I sat down in one of the closer chairs and slumped over, lying across the table top. I had to push aside some papers to do so and Devon did his best to organize them somewhat.

"Why'd you take me here?" I asked.

"Lee and I are friends. He used to work as an RNA before he started getting into this career," Devon explained. "He'll get you patched up."

It was about then that Lee reappeared. He was carrying a big tackle box first aid kit and a couple bottles of water. He set it all down on the table and took a deep breath.

"Ok. Drink this. Stay hydrated," Lee said, pushing the water toward me. "Why did these . . . mad scientists attack you?"

Devon signaled to let me know he'd handle the questions and I nodded. He'd know how much Lee was allowed to know more than I would and I was fine with keeping quiet for now.

"Afraid there's not much I can tell you. They work down in . . ." Devon looked around for eavesdroppers and then continued in a low voice. "The basements."

Lee had a knowing look on his face. I took a few sips of my first water bottle, marveling at just how discreet Devon was being.

Note the sarcasm.

For a few minutes, Lee checked my reflexes and heart rate. It included poking me with a needle—the resulting pain, I assumed, was a good sign. He tended to my bruised face and fetched an ice pack for the swelling.

"Well," Lee said, his hands on his hips, "I'm afraid there's not much I can do about the ketamine. It's wearing off on its own and metabolizes pretty quickly, anyway."

"Yeah, she looks a lot better now," Devon remarked.

"I feel a lot better," I added.

"Well, feel free to sit here for a bit and take it easy. Drink that water to help flush it out of your system faster. I'd put you on an IV, but I don't have the equipment for it," Lee concluded.

"I don't have time for any of that," I muttered.

His forehead creased and he gave me a stern look. "Well you'll have to make time. Ten more minutes, at least. Should I call someone?"

"No—"

Devon cut in. "Joseph Hassan."

"What floor?"

Devon told him the number and then said, "Tell him to send agents down to uh, the X basement and pick up a package I left there. Her name is . . ."

"Emma," I supplied when Devon looked at me expectantly.

Lee nodded. "Alright, I'll be back." He took his leave.

Sighing, I sipped more from my bottle. It was about half empty now, and I didn't think I'd be able to drink both of them.

Devon was staring; I could feel his eyes drilling a hole through me. I gave him all the time in the world to say what was on his mind, but it didn't seem like he was going to do it on his own.

"Can I help you, Devon?" I prompted.

He cleared his throat and said, "It's not your fault, you know."

"What isn't?"

"What happened, with those two back there. That wasn't your fault. It was a couple of crazies acting out," he said, reaching over to pat my hand.

Swallowing, I could do nothing but nod. I didn't trust my voice enough to attempt to speak.

When I thought I had enough control over myself, I said, "I should have been ready. I'm supposed to always be vigilant and prepared for anything."

He moved his chair closer. "No, don't do that. We're all supposed to be on the same side here. Those asshats caught you off guard in what should have been a safe place."

I wiped my face on the back of my hand and nodded. The tears wanted to come, but I wouldn't let them. I just had to take a few breaths to calm down.

Devon gave me a reassuring smile, then gave my hand another pat.

Lee returned shortly after, declaring, "I'll be right back. Hassan isn't answering his phone so I have to go fetch him." He handed me an ice pack.

"We'll be here," Devon assured him.

He glanced at us with a withering expression, then disappeared. We were left with the gentle clicking of keyboard keys as the other analysts worked, doing their best to ignore us.

Thanks to Devon, the heavy pressure of what I'd been through weighed on me once again. Neither of us felt the need to fill the silence, so my mind was rubbing amok.

I stared unseeing at the table top, imaging my doom with vivid clarity—what would have happened if Devon hadn't come.

The royal facehugger squealed. It skittered toward me, slick and slimy appendage extended and primed . . .

I clenched my eyes shut to force the vision out of my head. When a panic attack loomed over me, took the time to do my count down. It had been years since I'd learned that method, yet they were still coming in handy.

My chest settled with thick, hot coals and my eyes stung with tears desperate to be free.

/Not here./

/Not now./

/Don't let them know you're weak./

Five things I could see.

Devon was sitting next to me, playing on his phone and glancing at me. There were two other people within sight. The papers on the desk were sitting in a neat pile, and the first aid kit was still there. Then, on the wall, a few charts were hanging.

I took a deep breath. Four things I could feel.

My head still hurt, but the cool ice pack against my face was helping. I could feel the chilled water through the bottle in my free hand, wet with condensation. Beneath me, the chair was hard.

Thoughts of the facehugger and my frightening dissociation were fading. Three things I could hear.

One of the analysts was typing faster than the rest, clicking away at his keys rapidly. A blood test machine was grinding away in the back, and Devon kept clearing his throat.

"Do you want one of my waters?" I asked, feeling well enough to put a pause on my coping. "I don't think I can drink both."

"Sure." Devon slid the still-closed bottle over and took a couple chugs.

There wasn't much to smell in the room, so instead I thought of my two favorites: the cinnamon brooms sold in autumn and the woodsy scent of a campfire.

Back in the present, I took another sip of water and counted that as the one thing I could taste. I tried not to think about my experience and instead focused on what I was going to do about Jailbreak.

First, I rummaged through the first aid kit for painkillers and found tylenol. I popped a couple capsules and downed the rest of my water.

It had to have been ten minutes by then. I needed to plan. I needed to get away from the office and out into the field. Away from Dixon and Hassan and the bureaucratic bullshit. I needed to get to Jailbreak.

But I was stuck and he was on the way to an airport. Probably being boarded on a plane already. Shipped off to California.

Out of my reach.

"You doing alright, Nichole?"

Despite how soft he spoke, Devon's words startled me. I huffed and took an extra second before responding—I had to make sure my voice wouldn't crack when I spoke.

"I'm fine," I quipped, my tone sharper than I'd intended.

How did he always seem to know when something was upsetting me? Maybe I was just that transparent.

"You wanna talk about it?"

When I answered, it was through gritted teeth. "No."

I was not going through that humiliation again.

He shifted on the stool and said nothing more than a quiet, "Alright, just let me know."

My anxiety was manifesting as anger and Devon was an easy target for venting. A safe target. He would endure the flack I sent his way and wouldn't think any less of me.

It was unfair to him, but I couldn't help myself.

For several more minutes, I suffered in silence until Lee returned, Hassan following closely behind him.

I tried to gauge his expression. Nothing. His face was impassive as if two separate cases of assault was a common occurrence within the bureau. Unless Dixon hadn't reported it yet.

"Nichole, are you feeling any better? You drink your water?" Lee asked, eyeing me.

I nodded. "One whole bottle." To prove my point, I raised the empty container and shook it. "Plus half of that one."

Of course, I was lying. Devon drank that. However, my partner had my back and just nodded.

"Good, you should be able to go out and about now. I'll let Joseph take your statements and sort all of this out," he said.

"Thank you, Lee," Hassan said, shaking his hand.

"Sure. Good luck."

As Lee left, I found myself wishing he'd stay so I'd have an objective person who didn't care what happened. At least Devon was in there with me, though. His presence would make this all bearable.

He was on my side. Even if I didn't deserve it.