Chapter Text
The desert sun burned against their skin, hot hot hot, bright enough to blister. They glanced at their arm, the rip in their uniform. Already, the skin was bubbling up sick yellow. A radiation burn, technically, their heat exhausted brain supplied. Risk of skin cancer, risk of drop in efficiency. Life in Battery City was Better! Because the sun didn’t burn so hot, relief readily available, air-conditioned buildings. They had somewhere to be, though. Where, why, how far, the details were blurry, irrelevant. Useless. Useless useless useless useless! They did not care. They were going somewhere important, somewhere they had to be.
They put the largest of the blisters between their fingers and squeezed. The pain was barely felt, because they were a good soldier, they were Better! Extra efficient, new model. Korse’s. Which is why it was important, where they were going. It didn’t matter that they split off from the rest. They had somewhere to be, somewhere important. Because they were good, and obedient. The blister split and leaked cloudy yellow puss onto their fingers. They looked down. Disgusting. They readjusted and squeezed harder, getting the last of it out. Tried to. Something lingered under the skin, they could feel it. Disgusting. Filthy. Repulsive.
Their feet dragged in the sand as they walked. One foot, then the other. On and on and on, just like they were taught. MARCH, SOLDIER. Like that. Just like that. Sweat beaded at their forehead, dripped down their face. Disgusting. But to stop was not an option, never mind any weakness in the body. The body, however nauseous and tired and trembling, could be ignored, wasn’t important anyway. They shoved their hand into the pocket on the right sleeve of their uniform and pulled out a pill bottle- In Case Of Emergency, Take As Directed- and dumped them all into their hand. A day’s worth. They shoved the pills into their mouth and swallowed dry. It took a few swallows for it all to go down. They didn’t have any BL-Issued fluids on them. Blood only quenched thirst for so long, only dulled the hunger pains a little. They didn’t have any of that either, aside from their own. They ran their tongue over their teeth, tasting the remnants of sweet copper. It was fine. They’d keep walking. The pills would kick in soon and they’d keep walking.
The sun set. The night came cold and unrelenting, colder than it should have been, they thought. It always was. The pills helped. Kept them focused. They just had to get there. Easy. Simple. They would not, could not, fail at such a simple task as walking to a location. The sun rose and its harsh light boiled their skin. The pills wore off by midday. Withdraw symptoms: fever, nausea, tremors. They were close, though. They were very, very close. Each step brought them even closer, there was something on the horizon, and they could tell, could tell, could just tell that it was the place, their place. Korse maybe would be there. Make him Better! and fix. Whatever it was. That was wrong. The lingering feelings? Only, didn’t? Didn’t Korse like that? The feelings? Or, no, because. Because they weren’t supposed to have them. So it was bad. Very bad. All of it was but this place, this place would fix everything about them and they’d be perfect, so perfect, so perfect perfect perfect so much. So much Better!
One step. Two. Three. The door. Door to the reconditioning facility, Korse’s room, somewhere. Somewhere. They heard themself make a sound, something guttural and raw in the back of their throat. Like crying but not. Never crying, never never never. Their vision went oilspill technicolor and then to nothing at all.