Chapter Text
As Samantha Maxis slowly began to rise back up, the reality of the situation dawned on her. She had done it, she had weakened the Forsaken enough to be captured by Requiem, yet as the portal shrank, there lay her last glimpse of her home dimension. She didn't have the strength to push forward any further, couldn't force herself to go back through. Even with the thought of Grey in her mind, she couldn't do it. Tears streamed upwards as a Requiem agent desperately screamed to her, and then nothing. Then everything at once. The horrific sounds, the warped geometry, buildings both ancient and alien. She was already familiar with the Dark Aether, trapped once before. Dread crept into her, like hundreds of tiny needles pricking at her skin, filling her system with hopelessness. She fell to her knees and screamed. Screamed louder than she ever thought possible. Shutting her eyes as the ground around her shook, the trees were uprooted and any unfortunate living creature within her vicinity was turned to dust. All that was left was a crater, and in the middle a broken woman. She pulled her knees to her chest, curled up into a ball. She couldn't make out any of the surrounding sounds. Only the quiet sobbing that took the only energy she had left, the tears floating upwards slowly, twinkling a light purple before disappearing into the sky. Samantha lay her head back, and whispered 'I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm so...' the last words could not leave her lips before everything went black; her strength drained. There was no telling if she was going to wake back up.
Grey had never been in handcuffs before, but walking down the hallway of the Requiem offices she wouldn't be the only one. Soldiers were barking orders to other scientists and volunteers, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She felt numb. She knew what Maxis had to do, but that didn't make it any easier when she heard her final words. If it wasn't for how far away she was she would have followed her into that portal. Sure, it was dangerous and there was no way back, but they would have been together. She could make out Notso barking behind her, muzzled by a soldier and being dragged away from the familiar sights and smells of Grey's office. Surely wherever they were being taken, Notso would not be joining them. She hadn't even had time to ask if she could take Samantha's jacket with her, another precious part of her life that was being taken away from her. She didn't know who could be behind the sudden detainment of the Requiem staff, but The Director was her only real guess. As she was led through the front doors of the secluded Requiem offices, a black van was waiting for her. Grey was shoved in without anything being said to her, and was followed by Carver, Strauss, and Weaver. She caught a glimpse of the strike team from Operation First Domino being led into a large truck, with Raptor One detained as well. As the van doors closed and began to move, she could only speculate what was going to happen to them now. Strauss's yelling could not break her out of the numb trance she was now in. She liked to have hoped that they would just be dropped back home individually and continue their lives as normal. She knew better. She wasn't seeing Notso again, she wasn't going back her old life, and most importantly she was never going to see Samantha ever again.
The silence was what worried Samantha the most when she finally rose. She didn't know how long it had been; it was always difficult to tell in the Dark Aether. Already very familiar with the sights and sounds of the Dark Aether, it worried her more that there was nothing around her to pinpoint a possible threat. Danger always lurked, yet nothing in the vicinity felt like it was going to hurt her. As her eyes readjusted to the darkness, the damage of her desperate outcry was apparent. A crater at least 50ft wide, charred black. Trees toppled outside the crater, close to collapsing completely. She sighed, gathered herself, and took inventory. One set of grey clothes. That was it. It wasn't like last time where she at least had a uniform with necessities, she was truly exposed with nothing to protect her. She felt too drained to use her powers any time soon, but she would have to figure out a plan once the denizens and the dead figured out where she was. A faint glow of purple caught her eye suddenly. However, it didn't look like a creature, but something much smaller than anything she had encountered. She crept closer to it, treading carefully to not spook it away in case it was something she could use. "Hello?" she whispered quietly, trying to see if she could gain its attention. Slowly, a small fluffy ear began to rise over the trunk of a toppled tree. Then another. A button and cross-stich eye were now staring back at her, and a faint giggle was heard. Samantha sighed with relief but kept vigilant. She had seen notes on this creature before but hadn't seen it during her previous 'excursion'. "You are... Mr. Peeks, yes?". The small plush rabbit leapt up onto the trunk, its smile baring sharp teeth but still acting in a friendly manor. It seemed to be beckoning Samantha towards itself, as if offering something. Assistance, a guide, she didn't know, but it was better than staying put. Mr. Peeks rose into the air, and began to glow brightly, emanating a green light that helped Samantha to see clearer. She also began to feel better, and she realised that Mr. Peeks was holding a small green Requiem canister in his hands. 'Even here, Requiem still has my back.' she thought to herself.
Mr. Peeks kept himself directly above Samantha for the entire trip, guiding her towards something. When they eventually reached the pile of rubble, Samantha was confused and saddened. Part of her hoped it would lead her to a rift back to Earth, but it was wishful thinking. Mr. Peeks pointed his stuffed paw towards the rubble, almost as if he was beckoning her to try to fix it. "Alright, I'll try. I don't know why you want me to do this but it feels... right". Breathing in deeply, she focused herself on the rubble. Mr. Peeks mirrored the stance she took, arm stretched out. A faint purple light began to leave her hand, as did from the plush arm. The rubble began to shift, rising piece by piece. Slowly, a set of stairs began to form. Samantha struggled to keep focused, still weak from the battle with the Forsaken. She closed her eyes and began to think one word. 'Safe'. She continued to think that word, over and over. The rubble kept forming into tangible and recognizable features. A wall, a garden, a window. The word safe was conjuring up something within her mind, yet she couldn't grasp what it was yet, almost as if she was looking through a foggy window. One last push, and the rubble finally settled into something that Samantha thought was long gone. Mr. Peeks was all too eager to enter, giggling as he floated inside. Samantha was conflicted, but knew it was safer in there than it was outside, exposed to whatever decided to come her way. She stepped back into The House. Instinctively, she went straight back to her bedroom, the one from her childhood. Memories were starting to flood back in, but she was too tired to process anymore. Mr. Peeks looked around the room, as if trying to find something he knew should be there. "I'm not sure what you're looking for little one, but it probably isn't here. Nothing's here anymore." She collapsed onto the bed, comforted slightly by the bed feeling exactly the same she left it all those years ago. Mr. Peeks came out from under the bed, accompanied by another stuffed toy. A small brown bear was gently placed in her hands. "Thank you." Samantha said, tears falling down her face. The House was safe. Things were as normal as they could be here. She rested again, holding the bear to her chest. Mr. Peeks sat on the windowsill, staring out into the darkness, guarding another lost soul who couldn't get home.
Strauss had been seasick four times already; Grey was surprised he even had that much in him to throw up. It had been a few days since their detainment from Requiem, and while Carver was trying to keep Strauss from throwing up again, Grey had been watching Weaver. Each hour that passed he looked more solemn, numb. He looked ready to burst into tears, yet somehow didn't have the energy to do so. She noticed while herself, Strauss and Carver had been fed, Weaver had not. It wasn't for a lack of eating, the soldiers keeping them locked up simply did not give him any food. Weaver didn't complain, almost accepting the punishment for whatever he felt guilty for. Grey knew why, or thought she did anyway. "So, we've been detained for around 48 hours, which means they are protecting us from something, or sending us somewhere so classified we'll never know where it was". Carver, ever the tactical analysist, still trying to figure out where they were being taken. Strauss heaved again and covered his mouth before Carver could continue speaking. Grey looked at Weaver. "Any idea where we could be going Weaver? You must've seen or figured out something. Was there anything the Director said to you that might have indicated where we're being taken?" Weaver slowly looked up at Grey, shrugged, and broke his gaze almost immediately. Grey was growing more frustrated than worried by this point. Her expectation was that once they regrouped, they would try to rescue Sam as soon as possible, yet nothing was being said or done.
"Grey..." Weaver whispered. She listened intently, thinking he had a plan. "This is my fault, Grey. I know why I'm here, and by extension why the rest of you are with me." Grey was puzzled. Her assumption was The Director simply arrested them for knowing too much, but that didn't explain why the entire Requiem staff were not here as well. "I'm so sorry Grey. Sorry to all of you. I can't tell you right now, but I'm going to try to get us out of whatever hole we're about to be thrown down. I promise." Something inside Grey felt that for once, Weaver wouldn't keep this promise. She fiddled with her handcuffs, the cool smooth metal helping her focus. She thought back to her last night with Sam. There were so many things left unsaid, and so little time they were able to talk. She looked around the room of the boat they were in, felt like someone was watching them. A figure stood in the doorway, shrouded in darkness. Whoever it was standing there was clearly the reason Weaver couldn't talk to them properly. Could this be The Director? Was he here the entire time and they just never saw him? He pulled a small remote out of his pocket, a flick was heard and Weaver convulsed, screaming in agony. Electricity was soaring through his system, and Carver had to hold Grey back who instinctively went to help him before she was shocked too. Another flick was heard, and Weaver collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Grey looked over at the figure, full of fear and rage. She couldn't see it properly, but she could sense a smirk on his face. He put the remote away and walked off, the sound of his shoes the only other discernable thing amongst the waves crashing into the boat. A storm had hit them, and Grey was no longer certain of her own future.