Chapter Text
Amos Rhodes scowled, looking through the one-way glass into the operating room, his brow furrowing with concern as his gaze ran over the child who lay facedown on the table in there, hooked up to monitors, her limbs strapped down with restraints. She was sedated of course, but they insisted as a precaution. “Is this really necessary?” He finally dragged his eyes away, looking to the other two who waited and watched alongside him. “She’s only five, Commander. She’s not ready to go with the others.”
“She’s more than ready, given her behavior.” Commander Maeve MacLaughlin replied coldly, never taking her gaze off the sight in the operating room, a hard glint in the hazel of her eyes as she watched the surgeons carefully work. “You’ve done your part to manage her thus far, Corporal. But now it’s time she joins the rest of the Program.” She stood stiffly, her shoulders set back and her head held high, arms folded across her chest. She looked older than her years–she wasn’t even forty-five yet, but the graying streaks in her once reddish-blonde hair and the hard lines that had formed around her eyes and unsmiling mouth made her seem older. As if she could feel his gaze weighing on her she suddenly cut her eyes toward him, her brow creasing. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“...No, of course not.” He bit back the “yes” that desperately wanted to escape his throat. “I just…worry that she’s too far behind the other kids.” He averted his eyes from her, glancing now to their other companion, whose clean-cut appearance seemed untouched by the stress of their last few years, his black eyes as passionless and unfettered as Rhodes had ever seen them, always calculating but never seeming troubled by whatever was going on behind them.
“She’ll do just fine. She’s already taller than a couple of them.” The black-eyed man shrugged plainly, adjusting the lapel of his crisp doctor’s coat. “She’s not a typical child, as you well know; she needs a productive way to channel her energy and destructive tendencies. The Program is ready for her.” He looked to the old soldier and smiled flatly, an expression as empty as his eyes. “Trust me, she’ll be in good hands.”
Rhodes couldn’t bring himself to return the smile. Instead he looked through the window again, swallowing the hard lump that was forming in his throat as he watched the child on the table. She was not a typical child, that much was true. But she was still a child nonetheless. A child he’d promised to protect, even though he had always known it was never going to be a promise he could keep. Not with Lao’s machinations and damned Program waiting for her, and Maeve’s iron-fisted control over everything that was left of the Corps.
—-
Mara hissed and snarled, twisting against the shackles that hobbled her wrists and ankles, forcing the soldiers that were “escorting” her to practically drag her down the harshly-lit hallway. She didn’t recognize it–it wasn’t the clinic that she had grown accustomed to, and it certainly wasn’t the way back home to the apartment where her Uncle Rhodey had raised her. “Rhodey! Where’s Rhodey?! I want Uncle Rhodey!” She dragged back with all her might, the soldiers cursing as they struggled to fight back. She was half their size but her strength was formidable already. She yelped as an arm snaked around her from behind, a soldier hauling her off her feet with an irritated grunt. “Come on, you little freak, stop making this so hard!”
Mara shrieked angrily in response and thrashed in his grip until she managed to bite down on his arm, her sharp teeth puncturing his sleeve, then his flesh, the hot coppery taste of blood blooming against her tongue. The man yowled in pain and dropped her, his companions startled enough for their grip on the cords attached to her shackles to falter–and Mara took her chance. She turned, scrambling over the man who buckled, clutching at his bloodied arm, her steps clumsy as she struggled to run despite the hobbling restraints, forcing her to drop down and awkwardly crawl-hop as fast as she could instead. If she could get back to the lab she could find Rhodey; he’d protect her, he’d make them leave her alone–
Her vision blurred as a blinding pain crackled through the back of her neck, snapping her head back reflexively and drawing a gasp from her throat as she collapsed in a convulsing heap, her muscles momentarily hijacked by the powerful electric pulse that had been administered. The sudden spasm of her muscles sent pain radiating through her limbs and even once the shock had passed, she curled into a ball, whimpering and shivering. From between the shelter of her arms, she could see sleek black shoes approaching in brisk strides, and she heard the faint disapproving click of a tongue against teeth before Dr. Lao’s voice spoke. “Now, I told you that handling her so roughly would just lead to problems, didn’t I? I really hoped she’d have some time to heal up before I had to use the pulser.”
Mara looked up shakily, her eyes wide with fear as she regarded the doctor, whose gaze was fixed past her, on the soldiers who were hastily barking their excuses and protests; she didn’t bother listening. Her eyes were on Lao, and the small device in his palm that she could just see through the relaxed curl of his fingers. Somehow she knew that was the source–the little procedure they’d put her through had done something, placed something in the back of her neck. She could feel the stitches tugging slightly as she moved her head. Then Lao looked down at her and she flinched, recoiling slightly as he crouched to her level. “Let’s try a different approach, hm? Can we move on, with no more fighting? You can walk by yourself, even; I’ll take those hobbles off.”
She averted her gaze, uncomfortable in the scrutiny of his dark eyes. It made her itchy, a tension that coiled in her gut and made her want to scream and claw and bite–but the lingering pain that still ached in her muscles kept her subdued. “I want Uncle Rhodey.” She mumbled, her eyes burning as her vision blurred again, this time with tears that she stubbornly tried to blink away, though it only served to set them rolling down her cheeks.
“I know.” Lao replied placidly. “You’ll see him soon, I promise. But first, we have to get you settled in your new room. You’ll have a bunk all to yourself, and new friends to play with. Isn’t that nice?”
She suppressed a hiccup, furiously wiping away the tears streaking her cheeks, her gaze darting up to fix on him warily. “...Friends?”
“Yes. New friends, all around your age. Special like you, too.” He smiled, but it made her somehow more uneasy. “Come on, let’s go meet them, hm?” He nodded and she jumped as she felt a hand on her leg, though it was only for a moment as one of the uninjured soldiers unclasped the cuffs from her ankles. Then Lao held out his hand, the one not holding the little device that had set her muscles on fire. “Come along.”
She eyed his outstretched hand, chewing her lip. She still wanted Rhodey–but he said she could see him soon, right? And if she was going to be with friends, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a new space. She tentatively reached out to take Lao’s hand, getting to her feet and shuffling alongside him as he started on down the hall again, leading her with him. The soldiers watched as she passed, the one who she’d bitten sitting against the wall while one of his comrades bandaged him up. Mara didn’t want to look at his face–she could feel his gaze on her anyway. Freak, he’d called her–she didn’t really know what that meant, but his tone had been cruel, and that meant it was supposed to hurt.
“Are they nice? The…friends?” She asked as Lao led her onward, leaving the soldiers behind.
“Like I said, they’re all about your age. You’ll get along great. You’re a very special bunch, Mara.” He smiled down at her, and this time she felt marginally reassured by the expression, though there was still something odd about it she didn’t quite understand. The pain was fading from her muscles now and she was starting to forget the fear, though, and the promise of new friends was enough to pique her interest. As much as she loved Uncle Rhodey, she couldn’t remember having friends aside from him. She felt like there might have been some once, but she didn’t remember them now–just fuzzy implications at the back of her mind, shapes and smells that she no longer had names for.
She wondered if they dreamed in green too.