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She had her memories back. That was a good thing, even though it meant an overwhelming barrage of emotions that came with suddenly remembering your life and having it taken away multiple times. There was also the whole trapped and tortured thing, which really sucked.
When the rage and fear subsided, Peni realized she felt an aching loss in her chest. Tears bubbled to her eyes and she blinked them away. It confused her at first, uncertain if she had forgotten about something despite the apparent fault of the machine. Had she forgotten someone?
But no. Actually, she had remembered someone. And it fucking hurt.
She remembered Noir.
Noir, who lived in a different universe. Noir, who she had met relatively recently. Noir, who was in no way related to her despite their close, unquestionable bond that had gotten them through so much shit.
They weren’t--She assumed--She had hoped--
"If you ever touch 14512, you're dead."
She felt humiliated at the thought now, but it was only her own, so she supposed it wouldn’t kill her. It hurt, though, to think about it.
She had hoped he was family. She had hoped he was her dad.
She felt close to the others, too, but it was nothing like how she felt for him. That pull that told her he was important while at the same time begging and pleading that he felt the same about her. Oh, how she had hoped that they were family. How she hoped that it would all be over, one day, and they would go home, and--
But that wouldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen because they weren’t family. He wasn’t her dad, she wasn’t his daughter, and that was that. She couldn't bare to hope, anymore, that he could possibly feel the same. She had just been a lonely, needy child that sought comfort from a familiar face. She probably annoyed him, like she had annoyed 6--Gwen.
The would be free soon, and things would go back to normal. At least she dared to hope for that. She hoped that everyone would be okay--that Miles and Gwen and Peter would find them soon, that they could all get away, that this day would have a happy ending once again. She didn't dare let herself think that maybe she was happier pretending she had a father once again.
And wasn't that awful? To forget her father and replace his image with that of someone else? She was pathetic. Pathetic and needy and hurt and lonely and oh god was she so alone--
She didn’t cry. But she didn’t say anything, either. Her silence weighed on her own shoulders as they scrambled out into the hallway. Her spider chittered, soothing yet exasperated as they attempted to pull her out of her thoughts. They knew how she felt. But she wasn't ready to confront that yet. Especially not then.
"You remember everything too?"
His question gave her a glaring sense of normalcy and pain at the same time. It felt almost like a taunt, though she knew he wouldn’t do such a thing. Yes, she remembered. She remembered their talks--or, rather, their companionable silences--the times they hung out with the rest of the group, the times they stayed together, the two of them, while Peni tinkered or did math that wasn't even invented in his world yet. She remembered it.
And really, she wasn't surprised that her mind-wiped brain had lead her to the conclusion it had. They were close. Hell, she'd even argue they were closer than she had been with her own father. She had known he was familiar, had known he was--he might as well have been family. And she latched onto that. Her lifeline in the hell her life became while in captivity.
She didn’t want to risk crying. Not when so much was at stake, not when it wasn't about her, not when he probably didn't feel the same way.
So she nodded.