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"Remember, mon cherie, that when you raise a shield, it is not just for protection; it is done to keep another out. A shield by its very nature has two sides, but if you can understand both, there may be no need for a shield at all."
Her father's words had long been a bastion of solace for Natalie, even after his passing. Now they just added to her confusion. She had been breaking down the stark walls that surrounded Crypto, and she had begun to hope that he was not all that he seemed.
And he was not.
Letting her own guard down had come at a cost - she had never wanted to doubt any of the other Legends - but letting Crypto in could also have cost them dearly. It did make sense for him to ally with Revenant.
But it didn't make sense for him.
Wattson wanted to believe that they were all good people at heart; even Crypto. Even Dr. Caustic. Even Revenant. But she found herself nowhere near prepared for the heartbreak that comes with a loss of faith.
And when faith fails you, you turn to science. Empirical evidence spoke for itself, which was something she valued. People were far from empirical; if anything they were noisy, but there had to be some truth to them.
Perhaps that is why they say that the truth hurts.
Technology was fascinating in its applicability, but how people used it was often the problem. Circuits and wires had no feelings to speak of, so they could be honest. The simplicity grounded her. She giggled at the thought, another joke to add to her already vast repertoire.
Sadly, jokes wouldn't fix her interception pylons. Yesterday's match had seriously damaged her deployable equipment, but she had managed to keep her core electrical coil safe. She had been glad to say the same for her teammates as well.
The hours had whittled by without her notice, consumed by her work and her thoughts. Night had fallen, and the dropship they temporarily called home sat quietly on its mountaintop perch.
As she realigned the poles on the final positron capacitor, her coil flowed a steady current through her gloves to test the internal circuitry. The feedback was clean, and she felt recharged. Hard work was often its own reward. Clear results helped too.
However, the fruits of her labour seemed rotten to the core. As soon as one thing is fixed, another breaks. The sudden darkness that permeated the ship had curled Wattson into a corner; the cacophony of possibilities her mind had jumped to overwhelming her senses, despite the deep blanket of blackness.
Slowly, steadily, she calmed herself. The dark could hold any number of horrors, and no amount of faith could keep you from them.
Time to look to science.
Her coil flared above her shoulders as she stood, the outer resistors heating with the current; sparks shimmering into the darkness. A warm light blossomed about her, the welcoming assurance of certainty. Tension flowed from her into the void, and with determination steeling her resolve, she stepped into it.
Familiar trappings of her room jumped out to catch her off guard; the sudden expanse of the space, the neatly laid wires underfoot, her favourite Nessie plushie casting an ominous, unknowable shadow against the near wall.
"Oh! That's a scary Nessie," she laughed in realisation, her voice echoing into the surrounding abyss. She patted its head for luck, and set out for the nearest electrical outlet.
As her gloves fed a fluctuating current into the socket, the only thing she could notice was the deathly quiet that hung over the ship. She knew she worked hard, but to push herself past sleep couldn't help. A weak shield protects nothing, and no shields at all meant that the ship was exposed to the elements - that no-one was safe.
She would protect them all. From themselves if necessary. Maybe even when you understand both sides, there is still reason to hold a front.
No return feed on the auxiliary output. If only people were as clear. They never had to give feedback if they didn't so choose. Electrical currents at least told you something when they didn't spark. It seemed the core transmission unit had tripped a failsafe.
The engineering crawlspace that ran throughout the ship was a maze to most, but to Wattson it was just another giant circuit board. It all flowed together in one beautiful feat of machinery, and she moved through it like a particularly cautious electron.
Reaching the central hub, she was taken aback by another light source emanating down the access shaft. Someone was here? The saboteur?
Rubbing her gloves together, sparks flying like flareflies, she readied herself to round the corner on whoever had come to harm her friends.
"Oh, joh-a. Shocked to see you here, Wattson. I thought you'd be asleep."
The voice came from two sources. One natural, one synthetic - both Crypto. Still, the sheer uncanniness of the echo that resounded from Hack down the shaft disturbed her.
"Electricity puns are my thing," she exclaimed in a huff. "First you take my trust for granted, now you take my jokes? That's not really fair, Crypto."
She was stunned that she'd replied so firmly, or even at all, given the multitude of thoughts coursing through her mind. Her knees threatened to buckle underneath her.
"Mianhae. I thought you would appreciate the humour. I guess I'm not very funny," came the sole voice in reply. Crypto leaned around the access hatch, Hack floating behind him.
"So you're still using Hack?" she asked defensively. Her hands were still raised, her anxiety seeming to raise the frequency of shocks that leapt between them.
"Now that you're here, I can shut them down if you'd like," came the cool response. It was typical of Crypto, but not like his usual detached demeanour. He seemed to be obviously containing himself. "Hack traced the source of the issue to the transmission junction here, but neither of us can fix it. There is no need for either of us to stay if you don't wish it."
Ever-suspicious. Even more so now. What was his aim here? And had he called Hack "them"?
"This pretty clearly screams of a trap," Wattson declared defiantly. "Why do you think I should trust you at all now?"
"You shouldn't."
The reply was calm, but not collected. She had turned to leave, but she could hear the genuine longing in his voice calling her back.
"Then you sit over there."
Wattson's arm suddenly thrust into the junction capsule; her gloved, pointed finger sparking toward the opposite hatch. Crypto felt a mixture of admiration and fear for the living dynamo before him, pressed against the edge of the hatch as if he could ever even think of hurting her.
The stern look on her face could have even been comforting, given better circumstances. Crypto longed for a life where he could be chastised for simpler things. Mila always used to tease him for his desk stacking up with used noodle bowls, and he eagerly wished that Wattson was just here to urge him to clean his room.
Clean up his act more like. Just like the idiot kid that he was.
He shuffled quietly over to the opening, Hack flying to his hand. He went to holster it over his shoulder, but he sensed the lingering doubt in Wattson's eyes.
"Would you like to take them?" he asked, "They've done an internal diagnostic you could use."
He was desperate for her to trust him again, and maybe it showed. But perhaps all it looked like was further deception. The doctor had him doubting even his own intentions; the ever tangled web of lies spinning closer about them all.
"Can I trust them?" she said quietly.
"I'm not sure that I can," he replied solemnly.
"Then we're all in the same boat. OK, come to me, Hack!" Wattson cheered. Her sheer optimism shone like a burning sun, and her genius glowed from her coils like lightning.
If there was ever anyone to trust in this world…
Hack flew to Wattson's outstretched hand, chirruping as it went. She held it gently, but suddenly wagged a flaring finger into its camera. "Now don't you misbehave again," she demanded, "You too Revenant, if you are watching."
Crypto found himself constantly surprised by her, even when he expected so much. The look she shot him afterwards was less surprising; if anything it was deserved. The Legends all held shields about them like great castle walls, yet hers was more like a warm embrace. She wanted them all behind her. With her.
"Superb work, little one," she praised, patting Hack's upper casing. Hack bobbed under her hand, chirping in seeming response. After the ordeal with Revenant, she had found it hard to even trust empirical data, but Hack could never intend to hurt her. She hoped Crypto was the same.
"So? What do we do?" he asked, as Hack flew back to the holster on his shoulder. The question hung in the air for a moment, both considering the further implications that hadn't been intended; their shields held high.
"I will guide you," Wattson finally stated. "You and Hack should be able to reconfigure the junction with my instructions."
Another moment hung in time as if it would never pass. No instructions came.
"Can I trust you?"
It wasn't what he had expected. It wasn't even what he deserved. She was right not to trust him, despite his innocence. He had considered the option of informing Revenant, along with stealing the head once it was complete. Nothing was truly off the cards when it came to his mission. But proving himself was a far greater road to walk.
"I hope so."
Her instructions were clear and concise, yet she regularly double-checked that he had understood before allowing him to proceed. Not that he actually understood. She was just that good. But a poor tool will only get even a genius so far.
She could see that he was genuinely struggling now. That frustration, the earnest desire to understand; it was all too familiar to her. She had seen it in herself as she yearned to reach the shining pinnacle that was her father. She had then seen it in her Papa himself when he had puzzled endlessly over the ring, and again when she had eventually surpassed him.
Crypto was a person behind all the masks, the shields, and the firewalls. His defence was multi-layered; because his truth was important to hide, and he wished to protect something truly dear to him. If only he could put that shield down to let others in.
Her hands gently pushed him away from the console, "Merci. I will take it from here."
Crypto leant back against the walls of the capsule, but his eyes stayed linked to Hack's visual sensors. Wattson's hands moved like a delicate painter's brush, slowly tempting the console's components back to working order. Sparks surged down her gloves as she felt for the trip switch to realign the positron capacitors. She had explained it so well that he understood merely by watching.
His vision snapped back to his own eyes in a flash. A literal flash. The console was coursing energy back out at Wattson, arcs of violent electricity running along her arms to crash about her humming coils.
"Crypto…" she strained, holding the immense power of the entire ship in her hands.
He had darted forward before he could even contemplate how stupid it was. Electricity surged through his augments, and pain wracked his body, dropping him to his knees.
"I need to push it back," he heard through the crackling throng. Wattson was looking down at him, a thousand anxieties tumbling behind her eyes; her arms buckling under the current. How she held so strong he would never know, not even considering the immense voltage.
"Do you trust me?" he gasped.
He would never forget that smile. That confidence. He owed her that much, at least.
Hack had fallen too, but they restarted with a simple thought. Crypto wished his body could do the same. Wattson's outstretched hand called out to him as he flew Hack towards her, the internal electromagnet charging up.
By the time Crypto came to, the lights had returned to the ship. The transmission junction fizzled softly, and the warm hum of energy flowed all around them. Wattson lay slumped against the wall of the capsule.
His body hadn't recovered from the shock, yet he scrambled fiercely over to her, fear and pain gripping him tightly as he went. She didn't seem to be moving.
Gingerly, he reached out towards her. Quick as the flash that had blinded him, she caught his arm, and pulled him in close.
"Boo!"
Wattson's stifled laughter bounced along the vents and shafts of the engineering network; and Crypto sat back in bewilderment. Just how resilient was this incredible woman? How could she roll around in laughter having nearly sacrificed her own life?
"Quite the shock, no?" she giggled at him.
"I'm not entirely sure which was worse," he stammered back. It felt wrong for her to be so welcoming. Did he deserve it? Could he even allow it? Could he dare to put her in harm's way as his goals would demand?
"Oh, sorry...I can't exactly have helped," Wattson said shyly. She withdrew so suddenly, he felt cruel for making her doubt her own kindness. Why could he not put the shield down? It was one thing to protect Mila, but he needed someone to watch his own back too.
Perfect place to stab you from.
And so the shield held firm.
"It's fine. Gave me a jump-start," he grinned sarcastically.
That smile again. The shield had to hold.
"Looks like our circuits truly connected," she beamed. For a woman of science, her faith was astounding.
"Just following the current," he smiled back. It was good to know he could still do so, if only briefly. The shield could stand to crack, but not for long.
"I still don't trust you," she said as he hurriedly turned to leave. Her confidence surprised her, but it was evidently not lost on Crypto. What seemed like another smile flashed across his face, but this one was hollow.
"Good. As I said, you shouldn't," he stated, his voice calm and clinical, "I can't allow myself to trust anyone in the first place; it wouldn't be fair to ask the same in return."
"Seems it's you who's actually the old man," Wattson chuckled. Crypto's usual frown deepened, "Don't you start that too," he sighed.
"You really do care about him, don't you?"
It was only brief, but the stunned look of realisation on his face told her all she needed to know. The shield finally fell. Before his walls & masks sprung up to hide it once more, Wattson did instead.
"I trust that," she said assuredly, stretching to her feet. "Maybe you did tell Revenant about us. Perhaps we are all just stepping stones to the Syndicate for you…" She paused, fists clenched, as if struggling to contend with the awful things she was imagining.
"If that really is the case, I hope you don't have to kill him."
The words hit harder than any caliber of bullet ever could have. No manner of masks, pseudonyms or expunged data mattered now. She had seen through it all; she had seen him. There was no way to guard against that.
But he had trusted her. Of course an absolute genius could figure out an idiot ghost like him.
"I hope I don't have to kill any of you," he replied flatly. It was the truth, and it was always safer to hide behind the truth where you could. He didn't want to kill Wattson. He didn't even want to kill Mirage…most of the time.
But when you raise a shield to protect someone, you inevitably shut others out. He did not want to sacrifice anyone for his own ends, but if he could not bring himself to do so…was Mila not worth that?
The thought struck him like yet another inconceivable bullet, driving a sense of shivering filth through his bones. Could he even consider trading the lives of those he cared for?
With a solemn nod, Wattson turned away through the access hatch, and a seeping emptiness threatened to overtake him. Either he saved Mila, and hurt someone in the process; or he would never be strong enough to save her in the first place.
The idealistic third option was one barely left to Crypto, but it was the only one he could bring himself to accept.
Whoever said that you raise a shield to protect just one person?
-END-