Archive of Our Own

There isn’t really much to do after a mission, whether successful or not, other than to get back to work.

And Sage does, as if she never liked the hectic nature of work. Keeping herself busy with the minutiae always allows her to replace whatever brutality she had to face with banal lab work, and that’s what she appreciates with the Protocol. It keeps her busy, and it keeps her on her toes. She could not ask for more in a world-ending event such as the one she is currently existing in. 

So much that a lot of the routine is deftly etched in her body, so accustomed to the keypads and the turns and the steps that she can walk to the lab with her eyes closed. Sage immediately notices the lab door unlocked, with the slightest bit of gaps in it, and it knocks her out of her stupor for a little bit. 

She sees a flash of dyed purple hair and gold jewelry, and Sage sighs in relief and walks in to prepare herself for the work ahead. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Reyna seems to have just arrived as well, as she has a paper bag and the rest of her items in her hands, well far away from where they should be in their respective lockers. She isn’t supposed to be here, even if she was on duty with her. Sage always works fresh off of the dropship, but Reyna is a different story.

“I have nothing worse to do, really.” She shoves the rest of her stuff roughly in the locker, but not before placing a tall glass on the snack area of the lab, well far away from the other chemicals they are dealing with. “I made you a drink, though.”

The drink being an iced mocha, whipped up from the kitchen with as much skill as a base kitchen allows. The caffeine helps to calm her down, at least, to relieve the buzzing in her head, the adrenaline of seeing the results of active duty. Sage gladly takes a sip of it and finds it satisfyingly strong.

“You’re injured.” Sage knew Skye did phenomenal work with Reyna, but both of their healing is aggressive and not fit for everyday situations. “The best thing to do right now is rest.”

Reyna scoffs as she pulls and snaps on her gloves. “Didn't Viper want all these by tomorrow noon?” 

“Honestly, do you believe she would enforce that?” 

“I won't be surprised if you do.” Reyna finishes up with her lab getup. She did not have a lab coat on her, but as she slips eye protection on, everything else seems up to standard. “Will you let me help? I didn’t take off my nails for nothing.”

That is very considerate of her. Sage knew Reyna wasn’t a lab work person, but she knew her way around rather quickly, and that’s all that matters. Reyna picks up a tablet, scans over the sealed tubes visually, and picks up a marker and gets to work. 

“So,” Sage starts, “How was the mission? I didn't hear much from the debriefing with Cypher.”

At first, Reyna took her time with the documents and didn’t answer as the blips of her fingers against the tablet screen was her answer. They fell into a comfortable silence as they peered over the sample tubes, made microscope slides and counted. And Sage is willing to drop the subject, if Reyna didn't say anything. After all, more than Reyna’s body may be bruised and bloodied right now with the failed mission, and she was just happy that it wasn’t Reyna she had to piece together like a puzzle in a body bag earlier. 

Sage got into maybe the third or fifth microscope slide when Reyna suddenly breaks the silence.

“I think Deadlock and Skye are dating.”

The breath Sage exhales from her nose was ridiculously loud. “What?”

Reyna does not look up from the slide she was preparing, but gives the briefest of glances to see Sage’s reaction. “If they are not dating, I’m sure they will soon.”

“Hah!” Sage cannot help but laugh. “There is no way.”

“What’s wrong with them together?” 

“They hate each other!” Sage remembers Deadlock giving the stink eye to every agent who had radivores, including Skye. But that was a long time ago, and the next few months have been a blur in her brain, so who knows if Deadlock’s feelings have changed, one way or the other. It’s not like Sage keeps track of both of them for it to matter. “Wasn’t there that whole fuss a year ago?”

“A year ago.” Reyna repeats it like she’s making sense of it. “They go on hikes together now.”

“I don’t know.” Sage looks back at her microscope slide, where she’s already lost track on what she was counting before she was disturbed. “I don’t really care what they’re up to.” 

“Earlier…” Reyna says, laughing so hard she missed adding the drop of water on the slide. “Earlier? Deadlock with the EMT box? Who did she stitch up? And who did she get mad at?” 

“Skye is the only other healer.” Sage is ignoring the other parts of that moment, where it seems Deadlock was mad at… Sage herself? For whatever reason? As if she chose to be the only other healer in this group? 

“Still didn’t make sense.” 

It’s the one thing she and Reyna agree on, at least. She would rather the sentinel just keep a grudge for whatever reason if it meant she does not have to deal with speculating how her brain worked. They aren’t here for a good time, and the only thing that matters is she still does her actual job. She could have gone on for longer not knowing Deadlock knew traditional EMT procedures.

A silence would have fallen if the lab door didn’t swing open with their third lab colleague.

Viper, with a sling bag and trademark furrowed eyebrows, is late for some reason. She’s already got her lab coat on, and she does not even aim as she throws Reyna a lab coat from across the room, which she catches right as she turns around from her microscope. 

“I can hear you two from the outside.” Viper places a glass of what looks like iced coffee on the snack table, right beside Reyna’s already beady iced mocha. “Didn’t you two finish the debriefing hours ago?”

“This isn’t debriefing.” Reyna turns back to her tablet as she records something. “How about you chime in?”

Viper takes her time buttoning up her lab coat, and picks out latex gloves from a corner. “If it isn’t about these samples, I do not want to hear it.”

Reyna ignores that. “Deadlock and Skye. Go.” 

Viper takes a moment before answering as she puts on her gloves, obviously a little confused. “What about them?”

Sage finishes recording her latest slide. She isn’t sure if she should include Viper of all people in gossip – it’s not like she would be interested in the affairs of her coworkers. If she could lock herself in the lab so she has nothing else to do but eat, sleep, and do lab work, she would.

But well. She isn’t locked in now, is she? The next best thing to do is bring the coworkers in the lab, one way or another. 

“Reyna thinks they’re dating.” 

Viper slips on her eye protection and ties her hair back with some struggle before she answers.

“Skye tries her best to befriend everyone.” She walks past the both of them to use the microscope that Reyna was just using. “This is like being surprised that Lingying can heal.”

Sage is inclined to agree. “Right?!” 

“I don’t think either of them want to date here, either.” Viper picks up a pen and her own tablet to get started on her own side of work, obviously wanting the conversation to stop.

Reyna is not having it, however. “Do you want to bet, then?” 

Sage rubs her temples. Of course she would suggest that. 

She decides that this is the best time to walk off of the conversation and get back to the samples that they need to finish observing. “Absolutely not.” Sage walks off across the lab, picking up a rack of tubes along the way for her to focus on, and tries her best to focus on the tube in her hands by turning her back on the two. 

“Will you actually get to work if I join?” 

Sabine’s interested?

“Sure.” 

Oh no. She is regretting telling Viper already.

The tell-tale sign of confidence drips from Reyna’s voice. “Hell, if I win, you’re typing the next physical test results instead of Sage. How about that?” 

As much as Sage dislikes the thought of betting on coworkers that she consistently has to build back together every week, she may dislike paperwork even more that this might be the one thing to rope her into watching the two “lovebirds” like a hawk. That means twenty-four agent sheets – including her own – that Viper has to type in excruciating detail about their every bodily problem. 

“And if they are just friends, you’d type it?” 

“For every agent.”

There’s a hint of interest in Sabine’s voice. “For every agent?” 

“Yes. Now, do you want to or not?” 

A long, agonizing pause. Viper is either seriously debating if the odds are in her favor, or if it is actually worth it. Finally, a sigh. “Sure. You better prepare yourself for those results.”

Reyna laughs, already confident in her victory before the bet even started. Sage isn’t sure what else she saw or heard that made her this assured, but well. She started the bet. 

“Love can bloom on the battlefield.” Reyna ignores being pushed off from her microscope, and instead just leans at Viper, shooting knowing glances at her lab companions. “It did with us, didn’t it?” 

“I thought you’d shut up.” Viper’s latexed hand pushes Reyna off of her and into another microscope nearby, before smoothly picking up and handing her the unfinished slide she was prepping. “Now finish your samples.” 

Reyna smirks, obviously not deterred. “You’re no fun, Sabine.” 

“We’re at work, miss Zyanya. Button your lab coat up.”

“All right, doctor.” 

Reyna actually does button and smooth her lab coat before returning to her samples. And after cleaning up her supplies and a rack of her own, she does as promised and keeps herself quiet for the rest of the time, stealing Viper’s coffee and doing the smallest of idle talk with Sage. Despite playing around, Reyna is still really, really good with lab work, and manages to finish up most of her end of the samples with relative ease.

Reyna really just wanted to get the thought of Deadlock and Skye dating off of her chest before working, it seems. If it is coming out like a long-held secret, then Reyna must have been seeing signs for a while now.

On the way back to her room, Sage opens up her copy of agent records, and begins snooping around.

Anything to not type those test results.

Pre-mission scans, the bane of Sage’s work schedule.

While reviving is not an exact science, Sage has made sure she has records of everyone at the very least, just in the very unlikely but still possible scenario that a new agent comes in being able to revive people too and not knowing about everyone’s body specifics. The only con of this is that oftentimes, she ends up knowing too much about her coworkers, especially things she would rather not know. As a healthcare practitioner, she needs to be professional and keep all this to herself, but as coworkers, she doesn’t need to know what embarrassing injury any of them had received from non-Protocol activities.

For the coming mission, she’s already scanned Cypher, Jett, and Yoru, and herself as well. Cypher had provided Sage with a prototype program that might help with the scans which helps compare the previous body scan to the next, so Sage has a specific frame of reference (or a “save point” as Cypher calls it) of what to fix and what doesn’t need fixing. It’s not the best, and it still needs quality of life fixes, but it’s way better than zooming in on every pore or organ in a tablet and comparing manually.

Now if the last agent for the mission can actually come in… 

A strange-sounding knock on the door, before the last sentinel she wants to see comes in. 

“Hello, doctor. I’m here for the scan…?” 

While there is nothing alarming in Deadlock’s tone, something about being called doctor seems to stir up something in Sage, so much that she doesn’t understand why the sentinel would ever feel this way. Picking it apart to identify it as either mild annoyance to deep resentment fails, and Sage really hopes Reyna’s guess about the reason is wrong. The Protocol’s healing capabilities are stretched so thin already that she would start expecting Deadlock at her door with a Marshall if she was spot on. 

Well, until some rustling, and the sentinel simply drops a wrapped box on her desk, without so much as a note. 

“I’m also here to apologize.” Words, well-rehearsed from how methodical it’s being said, spill out of Deadlock. “For... well, not helping you during the last post-op.”

Sage stares at the package at her desk. It’s roughly wrapped in newspaper, held together by determination, twine, and an attempt at a teal wax seal. She didn’t think Deadlock would be the type to wrap gifts like this, but she is not going to complain. 

The silence settled on for a while, and the discomfort hung in the air. Sage tries to avoid the awkwardness by saying thanks and putting the gift away to open later, and delaying actually setting up for the scan, but she knows Deadlock is not buying it. 

Finally, the sentinel crosses her arms and breaks the silence. “Do you know if we will be getting any new healers sometime?”

The wheels in her head turn, and then hit a sinkhole.

Oh. Deadlock was mad that she sent Skye off.

“We can always have you in a way, but we unfortunately can’t have EMTs with biases.” Sage knows it’s ridiculously petty of her to accept Deadlock’s olive branch like this, but a part of her does not like that the sentinel would even get mad at her for a situation she could not even control. It doesn't matter at all if they send her presumed girlfriend off. At least the other couples in the Protocol react better than this. 

“I understand.” Fortunately, Deadlock does not seem to take it personally, at least right now, like the annoyance just went somewhere else instead of going away entirely. Sage doesn't know if she’ll ever get the full picture, but at least she knows who the motivation is. “My problems are not with you. I’m willing to assist with post-op recovery if needed… after this mission, of course.” 

“Right! The scan.” She almost forgot Deadlock was here for a reason. Sage stands up and actually prepares for the scan while Deadlock takes off her jacket and her prosthetic. “Don’t worry about it.” 

The scan was fairly quick thanks to the wonders of modern medical technology, and Sage didn’t try to chat up Deadlock the whole time for fear she may have to repeat the scan again, much like everyone else that tried talking to her while the machine was running. Fortunately, Deadlock didn’t seem to want to talk, either. She’s been looking at random spots in the wall, and most importantly, the present she’s left on Sage’s table. Once the scan was done, the machine beeps at her about the discrepancies it's detecting, but she dismisses all the warnings and makes a mental note to tell Cypher not to make it so loud.

“Just let me know what I need to do for post-op recovery, Sage.” Deadlock slips her prosthetic back on with a satisfying hiss, but chooses to keep her jacket off, where Sage can clearly see the green muscle top the sentinel has been wearing all this time. She seems to be waiting for Sage for something, awkwardly standing by the machine like she’s waiting for the next steps and hasn’t done this before.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a form and an assessment.” Sage waves off whatever concerns Deadlock hasn’t even said yet. “I’m not going to make you take an oath.” 

And Deadlock laughs. She actually seems relieved she isn't being entirely forced. “That’s a relief!” 

After some small talk that Deadlock surprisingly initiated – mostly questions about the mission among other things, Sage finalizes some things with the scans and closes up shop for the day. Now that the scans for the mission are done, she can return to more menial paperwork and perhaps more lab work, something she will definitely miss once she’s on the field tasting metal in her teeth.

But for now, she lets Deadlock know about the briefing schedule among all the other paperwork, as she has told the others. Deadlock has heard all of these a hundred times by now – show up to the briefing, show up to the armory for weapon picks and armor assessment, show up at the actual mission, show up at the debriefing. But some agents forget protocol.

“I suppose I will make the most of the three days I have, then.” Deadlock turns away, but still waves farewell to Sage. No hard feelings, it seems, which is a relief. As if they weren’t both annoyed for different reasons just minutes ago.

“Of course.” Forget being petty, Sage appreciates Deadlock being a team player. At least, she chose to make amends, and she’s actually excited to have the sentinel around as an extra pair of hands, so the burden isn’t all on her and Skye. 

As Deadlock takes her leave, Sage fishes out her phone from her pocket and opens their comms app. With her mission prep scans ready, all she has to do is assess them and she’d be more than ready for the mission. But first, she needs to check up on Viper, who she knew hasn’t left the lab past their lab schedule.

Cleaning up the clinic so she can head to the cafeteria, her eyes wander to the present at her table. Deadlock does not seem to be the type at all for these sorts of things, but mistakes will always find its way with generalizing. Now seems a good time to open whatever she offered as an olive branch. 

Sage expected a typed note, and maybe something utilitarian. What Sage didn’t expect was a handwritten note written in ink, with what looks like stones with earring backings. 

Skye told me these are green agates. They’re not quite jade, but I hope they’re to your liking. DL

Sage is not really someone that collects crystals, but she understands if Deadlock was reminded of her with any teal or green crystal in general, as it’s become part of her uniform in a way because of her abilities. The green agate earrings are beautiful and would not look out of place with her usual gear.

Wait.

Skye said these were green agates?

To be completely fair, there isn’t really any romance with helping identify stones, or most interaction, really. Sage would rather be caught dead than admit that she is also beginning to read into their interactions a little too much since Reyna pointed it out, but ever since the failed mission with Skye, things have been a little hectic around the base with trying to make up for it, and she doubts she could see the two lovebirds much, let alone her own colleagues. 

She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t really matter, and she never really cared for workplace events. But she has to admit, the thought of her colleagues finding love in the Protocol is… it is nice. United by a world threat, it really didn’t seem like the place to find a longtime companion to trust yourself to. Most of the agents had to be coerced just to be here, and it’s lucky enough that everyone gets along well enough that they get things done, and done well.

I’m lucky as well, aren’t I? Sage thinks to herself. Not perfect, but… 

“Hello!”

Sage is well on her way to the cafeteria to get lunch that she doesn’t notice Skye greeting her as she passes by, with a packed lunch of her own and dressed with a plain pastel blue dry fit shirt, probably headed for training. A brief glance on her hands, and her lunch is just for one person.

“Hi, Skye! Healing well?”

Sage could have sworn she saw Skye graze over where her arm injury used to be with her free hand, but she could be wrong. “Doin’ mostly alright! The usual, not being great with the whole recovery thing.” 

All Sage can do is smile apologetically. “Next mission will be rough. But you’re exempt, so don’t worry.” 

“Yeah?” Something in that piques Skye’s interest. “Who’s going to be in this next one, then?” 

“I cannot tell.” Sage really cannot – protocol about making sure everyone who is available and isn’t decommissioned or on leave is ready at all times. But she’s pretty sure that she also cannot tell she’s about to send off Skye’s close “friend” to a mission, even if that’s what they’re there for. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” There is a weight to Skye’s tone, as if she was expecting a specific answer, that she quickly hides. “I guess I’ll annoy my pals before they’re sent off, then!”

Right as Skye walks off, a heaviness washes over Sage, as if she’s beginning to feel the same weight. The guilt of sending over friends, of separating partners away on missions. Death is never an obstacle, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt them or her. And to be the one responsible for them, to make sure they can reunite, is a task she isn’t sure she’s always mentally ready for.

If she’s unlucky, she may have to make sure Deadlock comes back whole, one way or another.

She really, really shouldn’t be making bets over her friends. 

If anyone, Sage thinks Deadlock of all people deserves it the most. It isn’t a guaranteed way to heal, but it is a way to hopefully make the journey easier… to make all of this a little easier. 

Perhaps she can speculate a little bit, just for her own peace of mind. A little delusion helps sometimes.

She doesn’t believe Reyna, though.

They're all very much allowed to be happy for her coworkers, but the betting part of it all just feels wrong. 

Skye is one of the coworkers she sees the most, so Sage has to admit she does care for what she feels. The other healer already had a network of sorts within the Protocol – good friends, a good routine, and a good way to dull whatever pains and anger the constant mission brings. 

Deadlock is… well, she’s Deadlock. Maybe Skye knows her more than she does. She knows a lot of things about Deadlock, but not in the way where it’d matter with dating. Does the pores in your face, the crevices of the insides, the number of limbs matter so much? Will their pain tolerances or how their skin stitches or how much painkiller they can take matter?

Maybe to Deadlock if she learned so much.

Sage buries the thought before the reflection stares back. 

As if on cue, the comm app beeps on her phone, and the notif bar struggles with Reyna's username.

Sabine’s lunch would have been cold dinner by the time it gets to her with the amount of time Zyanya has been insisting on looking at the earrings and eating her own lunch. Sage couldn’t blame her – there is a question to be asked on why Deadlock would give such a non-utilitarian gift, even if they weren’t being suspicious about her romantic activity.

“Are her ears pierced?” 

Sage shrugs. “As far as I know, it isn't.” 

“Didn’t you just do her body scan for the mission?” 

Sage would’ve done a spit take if she was drinking anything. “Wh– how did you know that?” 

“She just walked out of your clinic? Wearing Skye’s shirt too!” The smile on Reyna says it like it’s obvious, a certain sarcastic incredulousness hanging on her tone. “Do you really want to type those test results that bad?” 

She’s not even going to ask how the hell did Reyna know that if she seemingly came from the other side of the base, but Sage is not going to ask her how she’s gathering her gossip and just checked the records. She is going to do all the comparisons sometime soon anyway, might as well just pretend Reyna “accidentally” snooped. She flips through her tablet and brings up Deadlock’s scan, and immediately, Reyna taps on the head part of Deadlock’s scan results. 

“Look, I told you.” Reyna’s long nails make a satisfying sound against the screen glass, right at the discrepancy warnings. “Piercings.” 

“What?” Sage flips through the scans in her tablet, referencing them in detail with the older scans. Sure enough, Deadlock did seem to have had her ears pierced sometime between the missions. Not just on the lobe, but a couple extra on her right ear, that looked fairly fresh and done by hand with a needle. “Oh, you’re right. Huh.” 

“And who else does Deadlock talk to a lot that does piercings…?” Reyna muses, knowing full well she knows who it is. “Come on, just admit that I’m right.” 

“There’s no rules against piercings here,” Sage supplies. “If there is, you won’t be here.”

“Do the rules matter?” Reyna slips the earrings back on its wrapper and does her best to tie it back neatly. “Also she got a double helix on her right ear. That’s gay in some areas.” 

Sage can’t help but doubt that. She and Deadlock do not talk much, but she knows the sentinel enough – she’s strung so tight you’d think she’s stuck in her own nanowire. Even while apologizing earlier Deadlock felt stiff, but the effort to make it up to Sage seems like a genuine, sincere attempt to do so. At least, if a willingness to apply her specific knowledge on other people is any indication of sincerity. 

Even still, not the type to get piercings more than the lobe. “I don’t know if I should believe you.” 

“You should.” Reyna picks up Viper’s now-cold lunch and puts the earring box right on top, before standing up and pulling Sage along.  “How about we let Viper know?” 

Viper got her “lunch” around dinner time.

What’s worse, she isn’t really buying the piercings and the shirt as proof that they’re dating. She almost said it in a tone that suggests that she couldn’t quite believe they’re still going on about the bet, as if whoever types the test results isn’t about to do emotionally taxing work for a week. But it’s not like Viper cares, or it matters to her. The most it’s going to be is less time for her own projects.

Either way, Sage offers to still stay behind for their lab schedule and help Viper with her own experiments. And Reyna, mostly because it’s her schedule too, seemed obligated to help. Reyna shrugs, not really wanting to complain, and simply puts on her lab uniform except the coat, as she always does.

“A borrowed shirt and some earrings isn’t really proof of romance.” Sabine sits by the break area of the lab, picking through her cold dinner and watching Reyna like a hawk as she handles a particularly volatile liquid in a sealed tube with slight abandon, like shaking a soda bottle. “I lend you my lab coat all the time and I still hate you.”

‘Proof of romance’ makes it all sound like it’s a transaction that Sabine is suffering through, and Zyanya acknowledges it much like a payment received. “And yet you’re still here, Sabine.” 

“I don’t like wasting my time.” Sabine stabs something in her dinner a little too aggressively. “Any time to save on those reports is time better spent on something more productive.” 

Zyanya finishes handling the sample, sealing it again and putting it back in its rack, well after it’s finished being agitated in her hands and in the sealed box. Like taming a raging personality, she simply lets it sit, ignoring her own lack of proper lab protection. “I guess we’re the same.”

“Then why are you going on about them dating?” Sabine takes another stab at her dinner. Something else other than her cold food angers her. “Who cares?” 

“Everyone who doesn’t sit in their lab and talk about wasted time cares, Sabine,” Reyna muses, wanting to keep working for once but still wants to poke at Viper, “‘because we aren’t assholes.” 

For a moment, Sage wishes she had other lab partners, or she did not volunteer for this schedule, because working with two women she cares about that also somehow abhor each other so passionately makes her want to go on a mission and intentionally die. But sitting through their arguing is either saddening or downright annoying. 

Tonight, it’s the latter. 

“Viper, are you done with your lunch?” Sage places the blood samples on Viper’s work desk with as much glass clatter as she could muster without breaking anything, just to send a message she wants the argument to end. “We need the radianite count for these.”

“I was finishing up.” Lingying was sure she had a bit left, but Sabine takes a final bite before throwing her fork in the container, closing it up, and throwing the whole thing in the nearest trash bin. “I’ll go wash my hands.”

“And Zyanya. That’s chromyl chloride you’re handling. That will burn your skin off.” It’s Lingying’s turn to throw Zyanya a lab coat, which she is now strangely more receptive to. “Don’t throw it around.”

Zyanya puts on the lab coat. She didn’t need to be told to button it up, either. “Alright.” 

Both Sabine and Zyanya were quiet after that, and Lingying can finally, finally work in peace. 

Sage wore the agate earrings on the mission. 

It’s a little impractical, but whatever little joys she could afford on field duty, she will take. It helps that Deadlock is also in this mission, and she beams at the sight of the earrings, perhaps taking it as a sign that the olive branch has been accepted. Sage isn’t sure if that’s the signal she’s supposed to be projecting, as being on a mission with someone who has proven quite quick that she has favorites still pisses her off, but it’s a mission, and they should all go in it as a team. Sage is fairly sure that Deadlock seems mature enough to process that.

“You look great.” Deadlock greets Sage with a compliment and a pat on the shoulder as the healer enters the ship headed to the Fracture. “Perhaps it will be our lucky charm for the mission ahead.” 

‘Lucky charm’ is a term Sage has never heard Deadlock use in any context whatsoever. 

“How about you?” Sage turns to Deadlock, curious. “You brought one?”

“What?”

“Do you have a lucky charm with you?” 

Awkward silence as Deadlock seems to try to remember what constitutes a lucky charm. And at first, Sage was confused when Deadlock tucks her hair behind her ear. But as it turns out, they have the same kind of lucky charm – earrings, just that Deadlock’s were black screw studs and tiny hoops on her helix. She quickly messes up her hair again to cover it. 

“Nothing like yours,” Deadlock says, fixing her trigger grip on the Ghost she equipped herself with. “But it means something.”

It means something. Then what does it mean? 

Sometimes random overthinking is what Sage uses to get through harder operations, where her senses are dulled by mission minutiae that hyperspecific strategy becomes burned into her mind almost instantly. Upon arriving at Fracture, the plan flows smoothly, with Cypher and Yoru having formed their own little group as planned. She doesn’t mind being left with Deadlock and Jett’s killer efficiency, and it almost removes most of the burden on her. The sentinel covered their tracks easily enough, while Jett made sure no one else followed.

Sage did their best to execute what they’re actually there for – recovering a deactivated spike the last mission team left behind so it cannot be used anymore – and they were closing in on the location, just as planned. 

Almost. 

“Sage!” 

An artificial hand pushes Sage against the wall, and she sees a glint of bright blue fly off of a gloved hand. Then two swift gunshots send Deadlock falling off of the ledge and on the floor behind them.

Sage turns around, and finds the assailant stuck in Deadlock’s nanowire grenade, a little too close for comfort. It doesn’t take an expert to land blows, but the adrenaline makes her heartbeat race and her aim shake ever so slightly, and the training only stuck at the killing shot. Despite being victorious, Sage finds herself hurt and with their blood splashed over her.

The mission.

Right.

Deadlock’s messy hair right at the floor below sticks out of her peripheral vision. She doesn’t have to look at the team’s heart rate monitor. She doesn’t have to go down the floor to know. 

She radios the team before heading to the spike. 

“Deadlock’s down!” 

There is no feedback with Cypher, but Yoru answers and acknowledges it. Jett acknowledges the comm and says she needs to adjust.

After the spike has been secured and in its accompanying bag, Sage returns to the injured. In the end, many of them got a blow of some kind, but Cypher and Deadlock got taken out. It would have been great if Yoru informed everyone over the radio, but Sage isn’t in the mood to scold, so she settles for giving the stink eye at him. Yoru got the message and apologized, even if Sage knows he won’t do any better next time.

Cypher was a simple revive, as he was taken out with one shot on the head. Sage focuses on the blood pulling itself off of the floor and back into the agent, and after a brief moment of focusing her energy, Cypher gasps back into life.

Meanwhile, Jett had to go around the area to find Deadlock’s arm, as one of the two shots hit right on where her prosthetic meets skin and flew off. Gladly, it was just nearby, a little smashed but it is still functional, and Sage wastes no time putting it back on Deadlock’s stump before reviving her. Sage lets the guilt of the recovery pain wash off her as Deadlock immediately sits up the second all her blood is back on her system, and she’s instantly hit by a searing headache. 

“Wha–” Deadlock takes a minute or two to reorient herself and remember what happened, before motioning towards Sage. “Are you alright? Were you hurt?” 

“No.” Sage twists the prosthetic towards its slot a little better, which makes Deadlock wince. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“We’re all safe.” Deadlock pulls away her arm and stands up, presumably to check on everyone, as if to convince herself of her statement. “That’s all that matters.” 

Sage isn’t even going to question it. It’s not her fault Deadlock wants to do that, and she definitely did not ask her to do that. Either way, the mission is finished and successful, and she can rest by the time they get back on base and sort out the post-mortems, even if she’s always the one to leave last. 

Tending to everyone has been tiring, but at least it is one burden off of Sage’s shoulders for a little bit before she has to personally manage a mission once again in a few weeks. The trip back to base is quiet, with hushed yet energetic conversations still going on between the other agents. While Cypher and Yoru are arguing about something, Deadlock and Jett seem to be discussing some weekend plans. 

“I’d ask you to come with,” Sage overhears Jett saying, “but you always have those hikes. Mind telling us when you’re free?”

“I haven't made any plans, though?” Deadlock pauses, as she tries remembering. She fishes out her phone in the ship safebox in a panic to check, where something makes Deadlock visibly wince. “Yeah… I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. I don’t want to disturb your dates.”

Deadlock makes a face with ‘date.’ “It isn’t a date. Don’t you work out with other people?”

“With the same person every time? Not really.” 

Deadlock is quiet after that, not wanting to refute but also something about it makes her think. Jett does not push either, but mostly just reassures the sentinel that the invite will stay open, before taking a nap in the corner of the ship, presumably tired from sprinting around for hours. 

Sage, in the meantime, could not really sleep, no matter how tired she was. Several things are being sorted out in the file cabinet of her mind – the mission, the post-mortems she has to file, the debriefing and the lab schedule. Oh, the lab schedule. Sitting in a lab sorting out samples and filling out documents has never sounded more exciting. Her company, while obviously still feuding, is better than the mission, and she couldn’t wait to get into boring lab work by the time she steps foot in the base.

By the time the ship lands, everyone huddles close for debriefing. It’s boring stuff, but it’s to make sure everyone is on the same page on where the Protocol is and what they’re getting done. Something about making sure the agents still have faith in their mission or whatever, but it blends into corporate speak one way or another.

After a few minutes of debriefing’s important details and filing for decommission, Cypher and Deadlock were allowed to go while the people who made it alive had to recount the mission details. Fortunately, it’s quick, and the victory was all that mattered, so the rest were also allowed to retire for the day. Sage still has to head to the lab, so she goes ahead and grabs her lab stuff from her room before heading on to her schedule. 

She passes by the laundry room and overhears something.

“You alright there, Locky?”

It’s Skye. It seemed Deadlock went straight to get her uniform washed, and Skye just happened to be there. 

“It’s nothing.” A long pause, obviously internal deliberation, before Deadlock continues. “Actually, my prosthetic got knocked off when I was killed, and I don’t think it was put back on right when I got revived earlier.”

On the bright side, Deadlock doesn’t seem to be blaming Sage for it, but it still hurts a little bit. The adrenaline rush and her obvious annoyance didn’t help Sage’s bedside manners, but she’s way past that at this stage. 

Skye seems ready and willing to fill the gaps of it, for Deadlock at least. “Oh, I can help with that. Let me try to fix you up.”

The telltale symptom of Skye’s healing – warm gusts of air – can be felt even if Sage was barely by the laundry room’s door frame. A slight pause, and she notices Deadlock test her arm once more.

“That feels better, Kirra.” Deadlock sounds relieved, and Sage can hear the smile of her voice. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, no problem.” There is a tone to Skye’s voice that Sage can only describe as adoration, so thick it almost feels like the warmth of her healing. “Anything for you.”

And immediately, the first thing Sage feels is intense heaviness. There is no explanation around it, and it is beginning to eat her whole. There is a bet to be had, yes, but having to watch her fellow agents do so much as have a life seems to be doing more to her mind than actual active duty, and it tugs at her way more, almost to the point of unraveling. 

It hurts, knowing it's not a possible life. In this lifetime or the next, in her Omega version or whatever else. Having to watch people develop with the others while she rots for their sake feels like cruel, divine punishment that burns at her veins. Sage could not quite tell what to do with the feeling – to cry, be mad, or to bottle it all up like a molotov and throw it to the Protocol after all this is over.

“Headed for the lab?” 

A packed meal and a homemade iced coffee in a plastic cup is handed to her by dark gloves over a lab coat. Viper doesn’t move until Sage takes the offerings off of her hands.

“Yeah.” Sage needs the coffee. She drinks it without much thought – either way, she will not be getting much sleep. “I thought you're busy.”

“We all are.” Viper takes the quickest glance at the laundry room, before motioning for Sage to follow her to the lab. “I’ll file that request for the physical test results later.”

At least, Sage can have her little comforts. It isn’t much, but it will work.

Everything has been fairly uneventful. 

Deadlock and Skye have been mostly the same after their hike weekend. Sage or Reyna did not really have time to snoop, as missions came back to its usual dull routine of death and recovery, like a cycle just begging to be broken. Reyna will still talk about the two at length, and Sage is still invested, but she knows watching the two develop into some kind of romance felt a little personal to her in a way that makes it seem she’s intrusive. She tries to push it as office entertainment to dull everything else. 

The one change of pace is Deadlock’s constant presence. The sentinel signing up on post-mission recovery has been a big help, even if she was not actually a healer on active duty. Making sure agents don’t bleed to death waiting for healing ensured that agents can actually recover faster, which meant less down time. Meetings with her and Skye felt like the job was really meant for three people, maybe even more. Sage can sleep easy, and can entrust herself more. 

Despite the previously discussed biases, however, Deadlock still heals Skye first.

She isn’t really a medical doctor, and she can do what she wants. But it is so blatant it's a miracle no one else has talked about them until now. Skye is fairly casual when asked but redirects the topic when asked about Deadlock, while Deadlock just pretends not to have heard the question and moves on.

Sage finally, truly, understands Reyna’s frustration over them.

Hopefully, one day, she will stop thinking of her own troubles when seeing them, but for now she will find a way to cope.