Chapter Text
"Wendy, it's nice you came over today!" Tracy was a little too jolly. Her pitch was off, something unlike her usual. Sure, she wasn't as stoic as Charles, but she wasn't really as cheerful as Mike.
"You've invited me over," Wendy responded as she closed the door of the workshop behind her. She strolled over slowly to Tracy's (slightly cleaner) area, taking her time to look at the other desks with stacked up blueprints, manuscripts, models, and junk. "You guys are busy here."
Tracy nodded as she watched Wendy arrive. She dragged over a clean chair for the woman which Wendy noted as the only clean thing in the room. Perhaps that was why Wendy, Luca, and Charles didn't exactly look clean during matches.
Wendy gave a weak thank you as she sat down, observing the drawings on the blueprints that Tracy had laid down on her organized desk. It was the only organized table among all of them. If Wendy noticed an odd pattern, she didn't say anything about it.
"It's sort of busy, yes," Tracy agreed, walking around her area and gathering some manuscripts and pens. "But it just looks like this every other day."
Wendy nodded as she analyzed the numbers that Tracy was trying to run on an upgrade on her robot. Perhaps the mechanic needed some help with them?
"So what was it you called me over for?" Her words stunned Tracy. She stopped her movement for a split second—something that Wendy didn't fail to notice—before continuing to gather one more notebook and then taking a seat next to the meteorologist.
"Um... I was, you know, the other day? In the match? I noticed you were having a hard time deciding when to use a wind current..." Tracy trailed off as she flipped through the pages of one notebook. "Ah, here! I tried designing something that could help you pull them off with better accuracy because it's um... it's sort of hard to do everything while you're avoiding getting hurt."
Wendy read through the explanations of the mechanical bottle that Tracy had planned for her. Her lips mouthed the words ever so silently as Tracy sat there, waiting for a response.
Tracy's fingers were starting to tingle at the thought of the next phase of her plan. Tracy, at the beginning, was completely honest with simoly just showing some of her plans towards a fellow survivor. Ever since Wendy had joined the unfortunate fate of being stuck in the manor as them, Tracy was determined to help. How often did fellow female science enthusiasts arrive to the manor anyway?
Later on, her feelings of wanting to help were derailed when she noticed how lonely the meteorologist seemed. Despite being invited to work in the same workshop as many of them, Wendy refused, choosing a more isolated area in the manor instead. Tracy deemed that maybe it was because the workshop was too closed off and Wendy was more of an outdoorsy type anyway, what with her love of studying the weather. But it didn't stop Tracy from reaching out.
Tracy gulped as she saw a small smile form at the corner of Wendy's lips. She wasn't staring! Tracy Reznik was not staring. Tracy looked away, wanting to clear her throat but not wanting to distract Wendy from her reading.
Was it a sin to want to spend time with Wendy Foote? No, a lot of the people in the manor chose to spend their times wisely, either doing their own craft, or being with other people. It wasn't an odd thing at all. They were stuck there for who knows how long, it wasn't wrong to befriend some of the residents.
Tracy Reznik was completely in the right here. She was not wrong, not at all.
"I like the concept," Wendy broke the silence after a long time. "Wind does tend to be harder to manipulate than most objects, so I truly do need the help on aiming." She nodded with finality before turning to the mechanic with a soft smile. "Thank you for this, Ms. Reznik. Would you like me to help gather the materials for it? I'm sure it will take us no time at all to finish this."
Tracy was going to explode.
"Uh... um... yes! Let's... let's do that!"
Wendy raised a brow, frowning. "Is everything alright, Ms. Reznik?"
Tracy nodded vigorously while shooting the meteorologist a nervous smile. "As fine as I'll ever be!"
"You don't look fine. Is it too hot in here? You're burning up," Wendy stated, "Hold on, I'll get you a bottle of water from the kitchen and if I see Ms. Dyer, I'll bring her over too. Heat exhaustion is not a good thing."
Before Wendy could walk further, Tracy reacted by grabbing the woman's wrist in both of her hands. "Ah! That's fine! I'm fine! That's... I'm not sick or anything."
"Are you sure?" Wendy scanned her up and down, making sure that the lady in front of her wasn't about to pass out. "It's awfully hot in here, perhaps it's that. Would you like to get fresh air first?"
Tracy sighed in defeat, letting go of the woman. Maybe today wasn't a good day. If she didn't have enough courage to say what was making her heart beat too fast, then another day could suffice.
...
But would that day truly arrived. In the uncertainty of the manor, even their days weren't and couldn't be planned. It was a miracle that the two of them were free enough that day that she had enough time to slip past the manor's games. When was this going to happen again for her?
"Papa, forgive me for what I'm about to do."
"I'd like to share with you the true reason for wanting to meet." Tracy looked down at her shoes. She weakly pushed another notebook from her side of the table to Wendy's side.
Wendy stared at it for a moment before realizing that Tracy wanted her to read that notebook instead. Cautiously, she picked it up and flipped over to the first page. It didn't take long for her to realize that it wasn't a work journal, but a diary, Tracy's diary. Unlike the one they were handed the moment they arrived to the manor, this one felt more personal. It didn't involve anything about the games or the cruelty of everything, but it contained Tracy's daily life and inner thoughts.
Day 28
A new person arrived to the manor. He claims to be an inventor, but can't really tell us anything he invented. He was rattling on about a perpetual motion machine, but is that a possibility?
Day 194
Charles Holt arrived to the manor today. I remember that name. His partner got killed because of a mistake in the prototype. I wonder what the mistake was and why it was so deadly. And I wonder if it wasn't unintended...
Day 259
I've realized some things about myself because of the new resident. Wendy Foote is her name and she's been here for a month now. She doesn't seem the friendliest, and she often keeps to herself even during dinners. I can't blame her, everyone in the manor feels like they're out to get me. However, I would like to trust her.
Day 274
She saved me today. She took the fall instead of me. Why would she do that?
Day 290
This is an odd feeling... Is it what I think it is? Who am I to confide this with? My mind says it's wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong. Perhaps I'm overthinking things. Maybe I would just like to be her friend.
Day 292
I do not want to be just her friend.
"Tracy..." Wendy started before finding the last entry.
Day 370
I wish to tell her what I feel today. I have not successfully attained her as a confidant yet, but I wish to know for certain. I wish to know if this feeling will lead somewhere before I get lost in it.
"I know, it looks bad and improper," Tracy interjected, "I just wish for you to know about it. I... hold feelings for you. Feelings that I shouldn't feel towards you but I do and it makes things hard for me. I... I... I would just like to share this so if it will not go the way my heart wants it to, I would start my path of moving on."
Tracy bit down on her lip before feeling a calloused hand lift her chin up, stormy gray muddled with the light droplets of rain meeting the clear blueness of the skies above. It was funny to Tracy that their eyes probably share their internal feelings on the matter.
"Tell me clearly what you feel, Tracy," Wendy spoke with such gentleness that Tracy felt like she was floating.
Her heart thumped loudly and painfully. It was one thing to think about the feelings, and it was another to speak of it. Her tongue got tied even more as she felt Wendy's thumb caress her cheek; an assurance that everything would be alright.
"You are like the clouds in the sky. One that everyone admires but it's so hard to get close to you. But I wish to. I wish to see the light of you, I wish to feel the weight of the burden you carry, I wish to understand you in a way early humans weren't supposed to." Tracy choked on a sob. "I fancy you, Wendy. It's wrong, I know. And if you do not hold the same feelings, I would understand. If you feel disgusted, you are free to avoid me. But I can't hold it in anymore."
Wendy was quiet, content with just observing Tracy's features as the mechanic tried her best to not have eye contact. She knew she was turning red from her cheeks to her ears and Wendy's silence and stare wasn't helping.
A lone teardrop slid down Tracy's eye which Wendy caught quickly and wiped away.
The meteorologist stood up, stepped closer to the other, never breaking contact. "I apologize for my next action."
She leaned in slowly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Tracy's lips. It was gone as soon as it had arrived, just like the fleeting wind simply passing by to share a breeze.
But Tracy wanted to live in the hurricane that Wendy's actions brought her. Her mind went to an instant state of turmoil and elation, working at a pace too fast to process everything.
"Wen-."
"I..." Wendy shook her head, "That was a mistake. I apologize."
It was like the hurricane had brought her to the top of its own eye and dissipated in an instant, leaving her free falling to her demise. Tracy felt numb, but her hands were tingling at the same time. A million ants crawled on her skin until all she could feel were the tiny legs and a loud blaring ringing in her ears.
"I thought I could," Wendy continued, "I'm sorry. For getting your hopes up."
"Wait," Tracy managed to utter through the quiet whispers of the wind. "Wait I don't understand."
"I wish for you to not understand." Wendy shook her head once again, dropping her hand and taking all of Tracy's warmth away from where she once touched her.
Tears pooled Tracy's eyes once again, now not from humiliation but from the pain of rejection. Was it a ruse to get her hopes up only to destroy her in the end? Was it a plot from the start to distract her from her incoming match which would most definitely end in her demise?
Was Wendy so truly disgusted by the thought of being with her?
"Wendy!"
"Ms. Reznik, it would be best if we stayed as... colleagues."
"Damn Charles losing my screwdriver."
The two turned their heads to the newcomer of the workshop. Luca Balsa waltzed in like nothing had happened, muttering under his breath about his dislike towards another resident of the manor. He walked to his station, stomping, enveloping the workshop in his anger.
He stopped once he noticed the two ladies in the same room as him.
"Oh, um, hello? Wendy Foote was it? Yeah, I remember you." Luca nodded, "What brings you here?"
The pair shared a glance.
"I was just about to leave," Wendy responded before taking the opportunity to slip away from the situation.
Tracy sat there staring at the path that Wendy hurriedly took to leave.
Luca scoffed. "What was that about?"
"Luca Balsa, you have three seconds to leave this room."
Luca raised a brow, turning to the now fuming mechanic. "Hm? What did I do?"
"One."
"Seriously, I just need to find my toolbox and-."
"Two."
"It's not my fault Charles lost my-."
"Three!"
A wrench came flying towards Luca from Tracy's spot which thankfully didn't hit the man. He didn't really need another blunt force to his head.
"Hey!"
"Get out!"
"Fine! I'm leaving! And just so you know, Charles also lost some of your pencils!"