Chapter Text
Phoenix knew she used to have a different name. She used to have a different sibling, room, and food. Everything used to be different.
She just couldn’t remember exactly how.
She loved Spider: he held her hand when she was scared and gave her his portion of food when she accidentally spilled hers and taught her how to not make the soldiers angry at them. But Spider had been with the soldiers for a long time, and he didn’t understand that there was a different way to live.
Now, they were on the outside, not in that room, not in the training room, and not in the terrifying white-coat room. They were outside, but she wasn’t sure if they were free.
The two men who had taken them from their room were talking quietly to each other while Spider and her sat at the table.
In the rush of being outside for the first time she could remember, she hadn’t listened to anything the two men had said. She didn’t know what they wanted with her and Spider. She couldn’t even remember their names (she wasn’t supposed to know anyone's name).
She used to sit at tables all the time. Spider was sitting straight up like the soldiers might come to test him at any moment. She didn’t think they were coming. There had been a lot of bodies in the hallways when they left their room. The men that took them were dangerous.
“Alright kids, eat up,” the skull-shirt-man said, setting bowls in front of Spider and her. The smell was incredible. She couldn’t remember food ever smelling this warm and spicy. There were even spoons!
The first drop of chili in her mouth brought tears to her eyes. How had she gone so long without this? What had the man called it? Chili?
“Oh shit, what’s wrong?” Chili-man asked, hands hovering in front of him. She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Nothing had ever been further from wrong. She scooped another large spoonful into her mouth, barely even taking time to chew and swallow. Her tears dripped hotly down her chin, but no one slapped her for it.
The chili stung her tongue with its warmth, but she wasn’t going to risk it being taken away before she got to scoop every last ounce of it out of the bowl.
“Wow, you musta been hungry, huh?” Chili-man said. She ignored him.
She only emerged from the bowl when it was scraped clean. Chili-man and Spider were staring at her. Spider hadn’t even touched his bowl yet. She pointed at it. He silently pushed it towards her.
“Hey hey, no need for that, you can have seconds, Little Red. I’m sure Sad-Eyes is hungry too,” Chili-man protested, pushing Spider’s bowl back towards him. Spider made no move to grab it. Phoenix would worry about Spider after she finished her second bowl, helpfully filled by Chili-man.
Luckily, he started eating tiny spoonfuls before she had to resort to something drastic.
“Do you two know where you came from?” the other man asked when Phoenix licked the last drops of chili from her third bowl. Chili-man and his partner were sitting across from them at the table.
She was pretty sure these had to be good guys, because they had chili and had taken them from the room but not to make them fight each other. So even though Spider was clearly still tense and only not running because there was never anywhere to go, Phoenix decided to trust Chili-man and his partner.
“The room.” Her own voice always startled her. It was lower than she thought it should be, and scratchier. She liked that it sounded like Spider’s, though. Like they were siblings.
Chili-man and his partner exchanged confused looks, which was silly because they had taken Phoenix and Spider from the room; how had they forgotten so quickly?
“Right, the room,” Chili-man said. “What about before that?”
Phoenix looked to Spider for help. Her memories were a mess from reconditioning; she could barely remember a time ‘before the room’.
“Always the room,” Spider said, making Chili and his partner jump. Spider’s voice was Phoenix’s favorite sound. It was the only one that didn’t mean pain was coming.
“Was there anyone else there with you?” the partner asked. He did not seem as nice as Chili. And his clothes were scary. Phoenix had never seen anyone dressed in red armor like that before.
“Soldiers. Spiders. White-coats.” Phoenix listed dutifully. It was like when the white-coats asked her question after question about her powers. She was expected to answer with as few words as possible, in a voice devoid of emotion. Spider was better at that than her. He never cried.
Chili and Red-Armor did not seem to like that answer. Phoenix hoped the punishment wouldn’t have lasting damage.
“What are white-coats?” Red-Armor asked. Phoenix tilted her head in confusion. White-coats were a constant presence in her life; had they really never met one? Maybe they wore different colors outside the rooms.
She wasn’t sure, so she said nothing.
“I think that’s enough questions for tonight, Red. Why don’t we let the kids go to bed, and we can talk again tomorrow over a good breakfast?” Chili suggested. Phoenix liked the idea of no more questions. There was too much chance of answering too many wrong and getting punished.
“Right. Where are they sleeping?” Red (she was impressed with her ability to guess names!) asked.
Phoenix wondered why they didn’t have a room to lock them in. They had taken Phoenix and Spider; they must need them for something. The soldiers were always prepared for Phoenix and Spider; it made sense their new keepers would be too. (Were they keepers? Soldiers? Spiders? She wasn’t sure, and that scared her more than she wanted to admit).
“You think I don’t got a guest room? What do you take me for?” Chili huffed. Phoenix tensed. Were they about to fight? Spider was halfway out of his seat already. The men didn’t seem to notice.
“You’ve had a guest room this whole time?! Your couch is awful; why would you make me sleep on that?” Red demanded. Maybe Chili wasn’t nice if his partner was mad at him…
“The guest room is for guests, not vigilantes that crash my safe house at two in the morning bleeding out,” Chili defended. Phoenix wasn’t sure what most of that meant.
“Alright, follow me, kids,” Chili gestured at them, ignoring Red’s protests. Phoenix was pretty sure it would be more dangerous to disobey Chili, but it was always risky when the soldiers gave them conflicting orders to test them. Phoenix waited for Spider to move before following close behind him. He would keep her safe, even if these men hadn’t tried to hurt them yet.
Everything hurt eventually.
—
Phoenix woke up before Spider.
She often did, but in their room there was nothing to do until he woke up except stare at the wall. Here, wherever they were, there was more to look at.
There was the strange blanket Spider and her had slept on: it was fuzzy on one side and flat on the other. It was softer than anything she had ever felt. They hadn’t even explored the rest of the room last night, too busy touching the large blanket on the floor. She had slept better on top of it than she ever had in their room.
Besides that though, there was a strange piece of furniture in the middle of the room. The name of it was just outside of her reach, in the gray mush that the reconditioning left in her mind. She knew she had seen one before, probably. It was covered in blankets, and soft lumps that she wanted to sink her hands into.
The walls were blue. A faded, weary blue. Streaks of gray ran through the paint, absorbing the blue into a tasteless flood.
As she waited for Spider to wake up, something strange happened to the room. It was like the lights were being turned on, but gradually and not from the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.
Sunlight, she thought suddenly. The word emerged from the gray sludge of her memory, accompanied by a weird noise that wasn’t quite talking and wasn’t quite the humming of a machine.
“Here comes the sun…”
Before she could think too hard on it, Spider jolted awake. He was immediately on his feet, eyes sweeping the room for danger.
“Calm,” Phoenix reassured him. Nothing had happened while she was awake, except for sunlight. She pointed at the glass opening in the wall, like what the white-coats sometimes used to watch her from another room, except this one had sunlight on the other side.
Spider finished his examination of the room, determining it safe enough to indulge her pointing. She stood and took his hand to go look at the glass.
On the other side was-
“Calm?” Spider questioned, gently wiping the burning tears from beneath her eyes.
“Calm. Just…I had forgotten,” Phoenix murmured. She pressed a hand against the glass.
The world was on the other side.