Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eight really likes looking at Three. ... Which, objectively, is a weird thing to say! But, then again, you also have to put yourself in Eight’s shoes, because Eight has totally swapped spit with Three a few times and also slept in her bed and is dating her. So. Yeah. Maybe a little less weird?

Hm... No. Still kinda feels weird.

Whatever! That’s stupid semantics. And logic. And some other word that ends in -ic, like arsenic or something like that.

You can’t really blame Eight, can you?

Eight - who is supposedly reading a book - is currently curled up in Three’s bedsheets, waiting for her to finally finish doing whatever and also ogling Three across the room like a creep.

Her eyes trail down from Three’s mantle, following the line of her back. Her muscles ripple beneath her skin with each movement, hypnotizingly beautiful. The light, however dim, still illuminates the room, casting a golden glow on Three’s frame. Eight’s eyes trail back up and Three moves just so and the light shines off something that catches Eight’s eye.

Her piercings.

Three has a lot of them, really. Maybe too many, but she makes it work.

And Eight? Eight thinks they’re pretty. Alluring. Captivating. Simply put, she loves them. She loves running her fingers over them and feeling the metal against the rest of Three’s flesh. She loves the way they look and how they catch the light.

Plus, Three has so many. You’d think with twenty-two extra holes in your body - well, that was how many Three claimed she had when Eight last asked, but Eight thinks the number is higher than that - you’d look like a pincushion or something, which, well, Three probably does, but like, bad pincushion and not sexy pincushion.

... Okay, sexy might be a bit of an overstatement for Three. No offense, but Eight has the feeling that Three has never attempted to be sexy before in her life. Maybe it has to do with the fact that Three still freaks out when she sees Eight without a shirt on.

There’s not even anything to hide!! There is nothing sexual about a chest. Eight’s tried to explain that to Three before, but Three never listens. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, but probably not.

“Hey, Three?” Eight says, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” Her lower gill piercings gleam in the light as she continues rummaging through her dresser.

“How much did your piercings hurt?” she asks. 

Three flounders her way into a shirt and turns around. “Uh... Depends on the piercing. Why, you want one?”

Eight shrugs. “I guess so, yeah.”

Three pauses, bites her lip, and turns a very dark orange. “Um. Okay. Yeah! Yeah, sure. I. Yes. I, uh. Am not. Objecting to that, uh. At all.” She claps her hands together, grinning in a terribly awkward manner. “Yeah. Okay. What, uh. What do you want?”

“Mmmh...” Eight hums as she thinks. An ear piercing could be nice - Eight’s heard they weren’t too painful, and she’s had them before, even though they (and a chunk of her flesh) were torn out sometime before she escaped. Still, she doesn’t remember getting them. Thanks, amnesia! And, well, she thinks getting a similar piercing (or, piercings) on her other ear would look kind of weird. Maybe it’s got some kind of cultural relevance? Heck if Eight knows! “What do you think I should get?”

“Weeeell...” Three looks Eight over and furrows her brow. “Are there any you don’t want?”

Eight runs a finger over her ear. “I had piercings here at some point, but they’re kind of, um... Gone.” Three makes a face. “So I think it’d look dumb if I got them on the other side.”

Slowly, Three nods. “Yeah, that. That, uh. Would probably look a little stupid.” Clearing her throat, she asks, “Anything else..?”

“I don’t want the exact same piercings as you.” Three cocks an eyebrow. “Like, obviously I can’t not get the same body part pierced as you since the only thing you probably haven’t pierced is your genitals and I don’t want a needle there.” Three’s tentacles ripple a dark green, but her face remains neutral. Sadly, Eight is not fluent in color. “But I mean, I don’t want the same, um... Type? Like, I don’t want to match with you exactly, if that makes any sense.”

Three sucks in an inward breath. “That, uh... That’s gonna be hard.”

“How many piercings do you have, exactly..?” 

Three pauses and counts. “Twenty-four.”

“... Since when?”

“A day or so after the party,” she replies, sliding the dresser drawer shut. Walking over to the bed, she continues, “It’s just a spider bite. You did notice, right..?”

Three takes a seat and Eight takes a good long stare at her face. After a few seconds of Eight not saying anything, Three sighs.

“You really didn’t notice?” She taps a little bit below two rings beside each other on her bottom lip. “I wanted to get a tongue web piercing too, but I figured that’d be too much to deal with at once.”

“I thought you always had those,” Eight mumbles. They’re pretty, at least, although Eight’s a little biased. “Have they healed yet?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I’d say, uh... Two more weeks and I should be good.”

“Is that why you’ve been hesitant to kiss me?” Three nods. Eight sighs. “I wish you just told me.”

“... Alright, sorry. I’ll tell you next time.” She lies down next to Eight, who wraps an arm around her. “But, uh... Yeah. I can hook you up with my piercer sometime once you decide what you want. He’s a good guy, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thank you, Three,” she says quietly. She rolls over to turn off the lamp, leaving the two in darkness. “I’ll tell you whenever I think of anything, okay?”

“Sure.” A few seconds pass. “... Hey, Eight?”

“Mh?”

“... Can you share some of the blankets, please? You’re hogging all of them.”

“Just this once.”

“Gee, thanks,” she scoffs. Eight can picture her rolling her eyes. She pulls some of the blankets over onto Three, who shifts a little as she gets comfy.

“You’re welcome, you butt.”

When Pearl opens the door, Eight is staring at her bedroom wall like some weird philosophy guy.

"What," she starts, "Are you doing?"

Eight realizes that she probably looks kind of weird right now. It could be the fact that she's staring at her wall. Or it could be the fact that the wall is covered with pictures of women's faces that are pinned there with thumbtacks. It could even be the fact that some of the pictures have big red X's drawn through them.

... That, or it's the 'Dinosaurs of Inkopolis' shirt.

It's probably the shirt.

"I don't know what kind of piercing I want," Eight explains. Gingerly, Pearl steps inside, gently shutting the door behind her. "I ruled out the ones I don't want, though."

"Why do you suddenly want a piercing?" Pearl asks. Eight stands up and crosses out two more. "I mean, I don't really have a problem with it, I just..."

"It's Three." Pearl narrows her gaze. "Relax. I just think she's nice to look at and I kind of just... Want one."

Pearl keeps her eyes trained on Eight for a few seconds then sighs. "... Okay. Uh, if you get one, I have some extra cleaning stuff I don't use anymore."

Absently, Eight nods. As Pearl turns around to leave, Eight asks, “Can you help me?”

She pauses and slowly turns to face her. “With, uh... With what?”

Eight sighs, slumping forward. “I don’t know which one I want, still.”

Pearl presses her hand to her face in thought, scanning the wall of pierced female faces. “Weeell... Which ones have you ruled out?”

“Ears,” she states. “I don’t want another upper ear piercing since I think it’d look weird, and I don’t want my earlobes pierced because no one can see them.”

“Okay...” Pearl shifts where she stands, staring intently at the woman wall before looking back at Eight. “You don’t want your gills pierced, do you?”

“No, no!” Eight shudders at the thought. They’d have to hurt a lot, right? Sure, the different sounds would be helpful for determining which member is emitting which frequency, but there’s at least a six month healing period for them and Eight very much doesn’t want a bunch of needles there. “That’d be too painful, I think.”

Relieved, Pearl sighs. “Oh, thank God. I don’t know what I’d do if you wanted those.”

“... You’d say no?” Eight offers. Pearl looks at her like she’s stupid. “What..? That’s what you’d do.”

She shakes her head, briefly massaging her temples. “I... Whatever. Look, point is, you’re not getting those. Every single person who has them are into, like, gillplay and all that weird kinky shit.”

“Gillplay..?” Eight repeats, cocking her head to the side. She can easily piece the meaning together by the horrified expression Pearl gives her, blush and all. “What’s that?”

“I- Uh, it’s...” She clears her throat and shakes her head. “You know what, never mind.”

“I’ll just ask Three, then,” she states, Pearl’s mantle going bright green. “Hers are pierced, you know. I think they’re pretty.”

Pearl, who looks as if she’s experiencing every emotion on the ‘I want to die’ scale, clears her throat loudly. “OKAY. Okay. I don’t need to know about that. Like, at all. Please never talk to me about Three’s gill piercings again.”

“... Well, you were the one that brought it up.” Even though Eight knows what gillplay is, she’s still going to ask Three about it, just to see her make dying dishwasher noises and maybe turn into a squid. What a butt..! “Anyways, I don’t want mine pierced.”

“A... Alright.” As Pearl’s mantle fades back to its normal hue, she walks up to the board and taps a picture twice. “What do you, uh... Think about this one?”

Eight gives it a contemplative look. It’s different than a normal look because it has question-y feelings behind it. She feels like some guy staring at modern art or something like that. Something that would piss Three off, because it would. Most things do, now that she thinks about it, but it’s still kinda cute. Eight is hopelessly in gay, whatever gay means. She kind of gets it, but... Not really. Maybe she should start with understanding the gender binary.

“I could get it,” she responds. Would it hurt a lot..? Not that pain is really much of an issue, either, because Eight is still kind of getting shot at for a living. The turfing industry sounds a lot more barbaric when she puts it like that, doesn’t it? Still, Eight doesn’t want her aesthetic stabbing to be more painful than it needs to be. Aesthetic acupuncture..? “Do you know how long it would take to heal?”

“I’m not really sure... Definitely more than a month, though.” Hm. That could pose a problem. At the same time, maybe not too big of a problem? It’s not like Eight’s constantly rubbing her face against people all the time. She’d just have to take care of it... “I think it’d look nice on you, though.”

“You do..?” Pearl nods. “... Maybe I’ll get it, then.”

“Do you know anything about Three’s piercer?” she asks.

Eight pauses and shrugs. “I know that he’s stabbed her at least twenty times.”

Pearl snorts. “Okay, but do you know his name or... Anything about him?”

“Just that Three trusts him.” Ripples of dark red spread throughout Pearl’s mantle. “I don’t know what that means, but I wouldn’t stress too much over it.”

“What if he’s some back-alley crackhead?” she mutters beneath her breath. “Look, if you tell me who he is and everything, I’ll let you go through with this.”

What a Nurser.

“Okay,” Eight mumbles with a sigh, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ll get back to you, then.”

Pearl nods and then turns to leave, hovering in the doorway for a few seconds. 

“Okay,” she finally says. “You don’t mind helping me with dinner later, do you?”

Eight shakes her head no, texting Three.

You, 4:57 PM: Can you tell me anything about your piercer? Pearl wants to know.

While waiting for a reply, her phone buzzes in her hand. It’s a text from Lucas.

Lucas, 4:57 PM: I haven’t found anything about them where I living

You, 4:57 PM: You haven’t?

Pearl leaves the room, door shutting behind her with a click.

You, 4:57 PM: It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting much anyways

Lucas, 4:58 PM: There are still the rest of Inkopolis though

Lucas, 4:58 PM: This is the big city after all

Lucas, 4:58 PM: Do not losing hope yet. We are trying our bests

You, 4:59 PM: Thanks, Lucas

As she turns her phone off, one last message flashes across the screen.

Lucas, 4:59 PM: It is the nothing, Lucille

Oh, how she hates that name.

Chapter Text

Three drums her fingers against the steering wheel as she waits in the Houzuki’s driveway. Or it it the Houzuki-Ida’s? Or... Just the Ida’s? Lesbians, Three tells ya. Lesbians.

She hears the door open and she looks up, seeing Eight walk out. Internally, Three panics, because she has gay-for-her-girlfriend disease, and she’s been informed it’s terminal.

“Hi, Three!” Eight calls with a wave. Three returns the wave in a stupid cheesy manner and unlocks the car doors.

As Eight gets in, she tugs at the hem of her shirt.

“Are you nervous?” Three asks.

“Just a little.” Her claws clack noisily against the inside door as she drums them against it. “Are we going?”

"Only once you put on your seatbelt," Three states.

Eight rolls her eyes, obliging. "Why do we even have to wear them? If we die, we come back."

Three chews at her tongue for a second and starts to drive. "They get mad if you do, y'know. Wastes power and all that shit."

"What," Eight starts and snorts, "Are you speaking from experience?"

No eyes. Maggots. Flies pour from her mouth, and they reek of cigarette smoke.

"Nah," she replies after a pause. "It's just common knowledge."

“Oh.” Eight blinks slowly, like the eyes of a cat. “Okay.”

“Were things okay?” Three asks, starting to drive. “With Pearl, I mean. I know she’s a mom and a half, so...”

“She agreed. She helped me pick out a piercing. But, um...” She sighs quietly. “Pearl told me to look at his portfolio,” Eight states. “I couldn’t really find one, though. He’s good, right?”

Drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, Three nods. “I’m basically his portfolio at his rate.” While he hadn’t done all of her piercings, he’d done most of them. When she first came to Inkopolis, all she had was a nose piercing, then Four got her ears pierced. And, well, things escalated from there - roughly seven months later and he had just pierced her gills. Given that they didn’t immediately get infected, things ended up being alright. “I don’t think my piercings look all that bad, so... Figure that’s good enough.”

Eight pauses and quickly scans Three over, then nods. “Yeah, I... I guess so.” Her hands, balled into fists, clutch at handfuls of her leggings in a white-knuckled grip.

“Hey, Eight... Relax. It’s gonna be alright.” Three’s been in Eight’s position a lot. Maybe more than a lot. Normally it’s Four trying to calm her down from an oncoming panic attack, but this time that task falls onto Three! ... Hopefully Three won’t be as mean as Four usually is about it, though. “You did all the things I told you to, right?”

“... You’re asking if I showered and washed my face?” she asks, looking at Three like she’s stupid. “I’m not you. I do that daily.”

“Uh... Yeah. Okay.” Three clears her throat. “You’re not drunk, right?”

“Yes, Three,” Eight deadpans. “I am wasted right now. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and puke on my sheets.”

"... I think you've been spending too much time with Dana." Eight hums and shrugs and ultimately says nothing.

"Mhm." Eight drums her fingers against the door in a rhythm. “Um... Did you work today?”

“No,” she replies, and Eight hums in acknowledgement. “I gotta work tomorrow, though. Why do you ask?”

“... Just making small talk,” she mumbles. Eight sighs again. “It’s not that bad, is it? Getting a piercing, I mean.”

“No, it’s not. Just one poke and you’re done. Maybe a little swollen afterwards, but it’s not too bad.” Eight hums quietly. “I’ll hold your hand through it, okay? Will that help at all?”

“Yeah,” she says, voice soft. “I’d like that, Three.” Silence settles over them, and Eight mutters two soft words that almost blend in with everything else: “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Three responds at a similar volume, and the tension swirling in the air fades just a tad.

"... It won't restrict my breathing, will it?" she asks. "Since, you know... Um, my nose, it's-"

"Eight, come on." The octoling sighs a little and Three pictures her blushing. "You can still breathe now, right? A little metal won't hurt."

"It's a needle. I'm sure it's going to hurt."

"I didn't mean it literally," Three states.

"I didn't mean it literally," Eight mocks. "Is it like getting a shot?"

"I guess, yeah." Three makes a left onto Starfish Street. "They're not bad."

"Getting a shot sucked. It was awful." She sighs again. "And you got stabbed twenty-four times? Even your gills? Maybe Pearl was right."

"... What did Pearl say now?" Three asks slowly.

"She said you were into gillplay, and I think she was hinting at you being a masochist." Three chokes on her spit and almost careens into a building. "Was she right?"

"You told her?" she blurts out and immediately craves death. Fuck. That was the wrong response.

"That you were a masochist that was into gillplay? No, she kinda came to that conclusion by herself. I mean, I never really thought about it previously, but I guess it's kinda obvious? Like, you know, you... It's not something I wouldn't think you'd like-"

"Eight."

"- And it's not, like, the weirdest thing I've heard of either? Like, it's, um... It's not venomplay - I mean, not that it's the worst, but you understand, right? Like, it's not going to possibly kill you - Gods, could you imagine the conversation with the people at the city spawns over that? It'd have to be so awkward-"

"Eight, please."

"- But anyways, what I'm trying to say is that I'm really not opposed to trying it if it makes you happy? I don't really get it myself, like, isn't it kinda tickly, or do the piercings make it not tickly, and- Can you still feel the metal in your skin, like if I pulled on them, would you feel that? And, like, does it hurt, or- Have you ever even tried it, or-"

"Eight!" Three snaps, face burning hot. "I'm really trying to not crash the car right now, so, if you would."

Eight goes quiet for a few seconds and Three can feel her eyes trained on her.

"Three, I bet you're into venomplay." Three lets out a horrible screechy noise of mortification. "I bet you're into having necrotic tissue. Am I right?"

"I don't even know what that is," she lies and contemplates crashing the car into a nearby building.

"You’re lying,” Eight says, calling her bluff. “When you let me use your laptop the other day, I looked at your search history.”
“WHY did you look at my search history?” she snaps. “Eight, that’s PRIVATE.”

“Not private enough, otherwise you’d look on a secret tab. Anyways, yeah. There was a lot going on there.”

If Three shifted into a squid, she would probably crash the car, but she thinks that sounds like a great idea anyways.

Swerving into a parking lot, Three yanks her keys out as fast as possible and scrambles out of the car. 

“WOW WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT,” she says, “WE’RE HERE! OOOOKAY LET’S GET IN, AREN’T YOU READY TO GET YOUR NOSE STABBED?”

Eight steps out and blinks, staring at Three with wide eyes.

“Are you..?” she starts, and then her voice trails off. She smiles softly and Three feels mortal fear. “Oh, I get it. Were you, like, thinking of me wh-”

“BUILDING,” Three replies gracefully. “ENTER BUILDING NOW.”

Eight laughs, and it’s melodious and sweet. “Okay, Three. If I must.”

“Um. Hey, Alex.” Three coughs into her hand as she greets the piercer at the desk. “How, uh. How’s it going?”

“Oh, Summer, hey,” he mumbles. The urchin pushes his glasses up, not looking up from the desk. “Yeah, things’re good, I guess. What brings you here?”

“Piercing,” she blurts out, still recovering from the horrible car ride here. “Uh. I mean. There’s a, uh-”

“Are you okay? You sound a little frazzled,” he comments, still not looking up.

“Um, we’re here for an appointment,” Eight chimes in.

Alex blinks and looks up, his face barely changing when his eyes land on Eight. “Oh, are you Lucille?”

“N-” Three starts, but Eight cuts her off: “Yes, that’s me.”

... What?

“Oh, okay,” is all Alex says to this entire fucking name. “You’re getting a septum piercing, right?”

Eight nods. “Um, yes, I am.”

“Mm.” Alex hums absentmindedly and looks over at Three. “Are you getting any piercings today?”

“No.”

“Are your piercings bothering you or something?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then why are you..?”

“Um,” Eight chimes in again. “I’d just, um... I’d like to just, have her here? Um... You know.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Emotional support?”

“... Yeah.” Blushing slightly, she admits, “I’m... Kinda nervous, that’s all. I haven’t gotten a piercing before.”

“Oh, sure,” he says with a small nod. “I understand. It’s really not that bad. Right, Summer?"

"Uh. Yeah. It's- It's not that bad," she stammers, not expecting a question.

"You're at, mmh... Twenty-four piercings, right?" Alex asks. Three hums in agreement. "And, see, she's scared of needles, so if she can do it, so can you."

"Wait, you're scared of needles?" Three nods, feeling her face warm. "... But you have twenty-four extra holes in your body?"

"... I like how piercings look," she states. Eight goes quiet and hums beneath her breath. "Is that, like, weird..?"

"Well, don't people tend to avoid things they're scared of?" she points out. “Well, it's nice that you're confronting your fears."

"Haha, yeah," Three replies hastily, because Eight is so far off from the truth. “So. Uh. Your piercing.”

“Yes,” Alex says, clearing his throat. “It won’t take long, Lucille.”

“... That’s good, then,” she says, her rings glowing slightly. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not if you do it in the right spot,” he responds, leading Eight further into the shop. Three hesitates for a moment before following the two. “The cartilage is a little tough in some spots, so you just have to do it right. Luckily, I’m a decent piercer.”

“... Ah. That’s good, then.”

Alex sits Eight down in a chair and slips on a pair of gloves. 

“I just have to clean it first,” he explains, grabbing an alcohol pad. “It’s so you don’t end up with an infection immediately, and also so the piercing doesn’t get messed up.”

He tilts Eight’s head up as he talks, starting to clean the inside of her nose. Three’s never actually seen a piercing done before, and even when she got her own done, she’d usually come in on a decent amount of alprazolam so as to not have a panic attack when Alex gracefully stabs her in the face.

Thank Tatzelwurm for drugs, right?

While Three was absolutely on board for Eight to get a piercing, she never really considered what it’d look like. Sure, she’d see soon enough, but Three’s still impatient. She’s never really been a huge fan of septum piercings, although she disagrees with the sentiment that it makes people look like walruses. Yeah, sure, the ring is somewhat similar in appearance to what walrus nose rings look like to help them wean, but... It’s just kind of rude. And it’s definitely something Sarah’s mom would say. And Sarah’s mom is lowkey a massive bitch. Like, she wouldn’t tell Sarah that, but... Point still stands!

“Okay, take a deep breath,” Alex tells Eight. “Take a few.”

Eight does just that, and Three’s hand quickly finds Eight’s as she gives it a comforting squeeze. Eight returns it, and she visibly relaxes. Once Eight is done breathing deeply, Alex basically shoves a clamp up nose - but in a gentle way - and adjust its placement a few times. After that, he takes a needle - oh fuck god no - and pulls Eight’s nostrils up - tatzelwurm fuck shit on a stick no - and lines it up and - fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu

Eight exhales slowly as Alex stabs her fucking face and Three’s mantle blanches white as she looks away and tries really, really hard not to vomit. She stares at Alex’s hands down on the table as they pick up a cork and move out-of-sight and she doesn’t even know what that’s for!! What the fuck is this even?? This is HORRIBLE holy shit did getting stabbed really look like that every time? God that AWFUL, that’s SO awful, ohhhhhhh god three’s going to Fucking Puke if only she didn’t leave her drugs in the car

Something happens with the Thing That Shall Not Be Named That Rhymes With Meedle, which does in fact come back bloody - ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew - and then there’s some more shiny metal and Three doesn’t know what’s happening anymore and she doesn’t want to know, god fucking shit she wants to go home this is HORRIBLE

“Lemme just bend the metal,” Alex says, and he presumably goes ahead and does that. Three’s grip on Eight’s hand is crushing and Eight’s grip on Three’s is not so much. “... Yeah. Okay, you’re done.”

“... That was it?” Eight asks. Three looks up again and nooooo eight’s eyes are watery... “That... Really wasn’t that bad.”

“See? I told you,” Alex responds, handing her a handful of tissues. As Eight dabs at her face, he takes a bottle of saline solution and pours some of it into a cup, dipping a cotton swab into it. “Okay, so, here’s how you clean it.”

As he shows her how, Three studies Eight’s face. Minus the fact that she was crying a little - she knows it’s a common response to getting your nose stabbed, and her eyes teared up too when she got her nostril pierced, even if it didn’t hurt all that much - she looks... Good. Like, maybe way too good. Her nose is slightly swollen, and the piercing does bring attention to her crooked nose, but it’s still... Really nice. And she doesn’t even look like a walrus. 

(Suck on that, Mrs. Cuvier.)

Once Alex is done shoving cotton swabs up Eight’s nose, he lets Eight look at herself in a small hand mirror.

“Oh, it looks nice!” she says with a smile. “Um... Three, do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Three replies, ignoring the feeling of nausea that consumes her when she remembers the meedle-sounding word. “It looks good.”

“Aww, thanks!” Turning her attention back to Alex, Eight thanks him.

“I’m glad you like it, Lucille,” he says, returning the smile.

As they go to pay, Three silently repeats the name a few times.

Lucille.

Eight said she didn’t remember her past, and that she didn’t want to, either. Had something happened with her? A change of heart, or something? Then, why hadn’t she told Three?

After saying their goodbyes to Alex, Three leads Eight out. When they get in Three’s car, silence hovers over the two for a few seconds, deafening and suffocating.

“... So,” Three finally says. “Lucille.”

Eight sighs, heavy and long. “... Yeah. That’s... My name.”

“... How long have you known?”

“Since I got the surface,” she states, chewing at the inside of her lip. “It’s... Something Marina found in my file. She, um... It was part of the process for... Citizenship. It doesn’t, or- It didn’t really... Feel like my name. So I just never told you, because I just went by Eight.”

“Didn’t?” Three repeats. “You’re saying it does now, then?”

“Err- Um. Well.” Again, Eight sighs. “Do... You remember the party? The, ‘congrats, you didn’t die!’ one?” Three nods. She remembers it well. “Um, so... Callie’s... Gift to me was a... Flashdrive. And it had data on my old squadron on it.”

“... Did it, now?” Eight nods slowly after a pause.

“It, um... I don’t know how to describe it,” she admits. “It’s- It made me remember things that I... Always knew, somehow, but they seemed... Insignificant, until I remembered them again. And it- It had meaning, then. It meant so much, and-” Her voice breaks. Three’s mantle flares up blue with concern. “And I- I don’t even know why I’m crying, it- They didn’t- They shouldn’t mean anything to me now. I don’t remember them, but- But they’re...”

“It’s okay, Eight,” Three says hastily. “It’s- It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

With teary, unfocused eyes, Eight nods and shakily takes in a breath and exhales slowly. When she meets Three’s gaze again, Eight’s stare is glassy and empty, and Three desperately wants to hold her until the pain goes away.

“Do you... Want me to talk to Callie about it?” Three asks. Eight shakes her head. “Why not?”

“I don’t... Want to start any more conflict,” she says after a long pause. “I just... Want to live normally.”

“... Okay.” Three doesn’t press it any more. She... Feels like she shouldn’t. “It’s... It’s okay, Eight. It’s... Hard right now, but...”

Absently, Eight nods. Three sighs and starts the car.

“Did, um... Did Alex give you any saline solution?” she asks, trying to change the subject. Tatzelwurm help her, she’s going to fucking destroy Callie when she gets the chance.

“Yeah, I... I have a bottle of it.” After a pause, Eight quietly adds, “Thank you, Three.”

“... Don’t worry about it. You know I lo-” She bites her tongue and corrects herself, “Like you, Eight. A lot.”

“Mmh,” Eight hums softly. “I... Like you a lot, too.”