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The blood under Ari's fingernails was still wet, and already she was laying alone in her bed. Florian was somewhere in the alpha wing labyrinth she had built for them. Catlin was with him, almost certainly, and handling the biting antiseptic and soft adhesive bandages that had been a part of Ari and Florian for so long.
Her fingers would be gentle.
It's the only time she was ever gentle. Careful, always. But gentle? Catlin lacked the skill. It was Florian, who had the kindness and gentleness and patience to spare, that drew it out of her. By the end of the hour Florian would be cleaned and wrapped and sleeping with his head pressed against the chest of the one who held that privilege.
Because everyone has someone, right? Amy and Quinton, Sam and god-whats-her-name, even Denys had Giraud, who loved him when Denys could not love. And whom did she have? Someone who had someone else. It sat like an iron spike sinking in where her heart was supposed to be, slipping further when she breathed. She could hold it, sometimes, by keeping her heart very still and breathing very little, but she couldnt hold the pose for long. Something scorched across her face. She didn't know why.
"Flux," Ari muttered, and hated herself.
She wondered where Justin was, and hated herself worse.
It was flagallent. Selfish, destructive, hot, and Mad. She did it anyway.
"Base One, where is Justin Warrick?"
The minder chimed. "Accessing this information will leave a trace in the following systems: Security, Base two. Do you wish to proceed?"
"Yes."
"Justin Warrick is in Alpha Wing, Warrick Residence, Master Bedroom."
She let that sit for a moment, already regretting the next question.
"Base One, where is Grant ALX-972? Proceed without caution."
"ALX-972 is in Alpha Wing, Warrick Residence, Master Bedroom. Would you like visual confirmation?"
Ari didn't know what she was hoping to hear, but the blunt voice of Base One pressed the spike that much deeper.
"No," Ari lied. She had not always had that strength.
Ari let the Mad rush over her, hoping it would be gone quicker, and grit her teeth at it all. It didn't work, but the tears and the blood dried eventually. She didn't dare deep study the other Ari's personal notes with the flux she had, but settled on Generational Impulse Control and Primitive Econimics. She was asleep before she found the sedative and the tapes never played.
Sometime in the night, someone entered the room. Their footsteps were light and weight on the bed heavy. They drew patterns in Ari's scalp and gently, so so carefully, pulled her hair into a braid for the morning.