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Maddy’s struggling to breathe. Not that that’s an unusual occurrence, what with being asthmatic and everything, but now would be a great time to get some oxygen into her lungs. She just has to stop Adam. Or else he’ll disappear into the Twin Towers and die inside them, and Maddy will have let it happen. She can see the back of his head now, the way the ginger curls of his adolescence have grown into a warm brown, and she calls out his name. Twice. Three times. Finally, he turns around.
Except he’s not Adam anymore. Maddy’s staring at Liam, who is frowning back at her. The New York street they were on before has disappeared too, replaced by thick forest. “Why did you do it, Mads?” Liam asks her.
“What?”
“Why’d you send us back here? Sixty-five million years is a long way from home. We’re dying, Maddy. Although for you, we’re already dead.”
Maddy shakes her head. “But I saved you! I brought you back.”
Liam laughs at her. Not his usual loud, carefree laugh, but one filled with anger and bitterness. “How could you save us, when you couldn’t even save Sal?”
“What?”
Liam points behind Maddy and she whirls around to look. She’s back in New York and is almost relieved before realising that this is the same version of New York as in their first mission. And there’s Sal, being pulled away by those awful creatures. “Maddy!” she screams, reaching out towards her.
Maddy grabs her hand. “I’ve got you!” Maybe this time she can get it right. She can hold on, and Sal can be saved. “Foster, help me!”
Foster, who is stood idly a few feet away, shakes his head. “You have to do this on your own, Maddy. Figure it out by yourself.”
“Help me!” Sal cries. “Help us all! Or chaos space will destroy us!”
“Chaos space?” Maddy echoes.
Suddenly, Sal’s hand turns red hot and Maddy instinctively lets go, yelping. The ruined New York skyline is dissolving into the milky white of chaos space and Sal has been replaced by a Seeker – like the one in the archway when they were all recruited, but bigger and clearly more dangerous. Maddy shrieks and struggles backwards on all fours as everything continues to disappear. As the infinite nothingness closes in on her, she screams.
She jolts upright and whacks her head on the top bunk.
“Fuck,” she groans. She’s back in the archway, and the sheets covering her feel solid and real. But her heart’s still beating way too fast for comfort. She turns to look over at the single bed, and there’s Liam, still snoring peacefully. Good. She quietly swings her legs out of the bed and stands up to peer over the top bunk. And there’s Sal. Double good. But not good enough, considering how she’s still struggling to breathe properly.
Air. She needs air.
Maddy stumbles into the main room of the archway as quietly as she can, fumbling for her inhaler on the desk. Two quick puffs and she’s off again, opening the shutter just enough for her to duck through and breathe in the cold night air on the other side. She gets to the end of the alleyway before leaning against the brick wall and letting out a shaky sob.
“Madeleine.”
Maddy jumps at the sound of Becks’ voice. The support unit must have followed her silently out of the archway, and she’s now standing directly in front of her, frowning. “What do you want, Becks?”
“You left the archway quickly. I detect no threats in the immediate vicinity, and so I followed you to find out what was wrong.” There’s a question in her voice.
“I’m fine,” Maddy replies shortly, wiping her eyes.
“Your heart rate is elevated to forty-six percent above its usual speed,” Becks says. “And you are crying.”
“Yeah, well, I can handle it myself,” Maddy insists. “I just… need to be alone right now, okay?”
Becks tilts her head, kind of like a confused puppy. A confused, murderous puppy who can take out a pack of dinosaurs. “My mission priority is to protect every member of the agency from harm. You are currently experiencing severe emotional distress, and so my protocol forces me to remain with you so that you come to no harm as a result.”
“You ever considered that you’re the one causing me emotional distress?” Maddy snaps.
Becks blinks. “I… apologise.”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just… ugh.” Maddy wipes her wet cheeks again and sniffles. “I can’t do this.”
“What can’t you do, Madeleine?”
“This! All of this! It’s so much bigger than I thought, than even Foster thought. It’s not just saving history anymore, or saving the world, but the fate of the entire universe is in the hands of teenagers! Why the hell did they pick kids to do this shit?”
Becks draws closer to her and awkwardly places both hands on Maddy’s shoulders in a poor imitation of a comforting motion. “You have been doing well,” she says softly. “So far, you have fixed three major contamination events, each one with their own challenges.”
“But how much shit did we have to go through each time?” Maddy asks. “And how many times did I almost get everyone killed, almost destroy the fabric of reality? The chances of me screwing up and actually destroying the universe are getting pretty damn high at this point.”
“Negative. That is not how probability works,” Becks says. “The likelihood of you ‘screwing up’ is mathematically equal each time. However, because each event causes you to further understand how best to act, the probability actually decreases.”
Maddy sniffs. “I don’t know whether that’s comforting or unhelpful.”
“I apologise. My software is not designed for comfort.”
“Is your hardware?”
Becks frowns. “I do not understand the question.”
Maddy sighs. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I could really use a hug right now.”
“You wish… for me to embrace you?”
“Well, you don’t have to make it weird,” Maddy says, feeling her face heat up. Thank god it’s still dark outside.
Without another word, Becks places her arms around Maddy and pulls her in. Maddy does likewise, wrapping her arms around Becks’ waist and shakily releasing a breath. “Please don’t cry,” Becks says into Maddy’s ear. “Crying decreases productivity by up to seventy percent.”
Maddy snorts. “Noted.” She wonders if Becks just added that last bit on to disguise the fact that she actually cares for Maddy. Maddy would’ve probably done the same for Becks. They have a weird relationship. (Relationship? Friendship? Who knows.) “Thank you,” she adds.
“It is merely the result of a scientific study. You do not have to thank me for the information it provided.”
“Not for that, dumbass,” Maddy says fondly- fondly? When was fond a setting when talking to Becks?
Becks is quiet for a moment, and Maddy starts to wonder if Becks even knows what a dumbass is. Finally, she speaks. “You are welcome, Madeleine.”