applesaucedream | Never Lie, Never Sin, Tell Us What A Mess We're In [Open to Multiple]

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Never Lie, Never Sin, Tell Us What A Mess We're In [Open to Multiple]

Melanie stares at the door to her cell. There is something different about it today. She's having a little trouble placing it, but she knows there's something off. It's concerning. She has been so clear about what ROMAC needs to do to keep everyone else safe from her, and the suspicion that they're messing up somehow makes her very, very nervous.

It's the locks, she realizes after a few moments of intense scrutiny. That is what's wrong. There are supposed to be five, but she only counts four. That can't be right. Melanie approaches the door with a little frown on her face, her fingertips hovering a few inches from the metal, wary of the shock she'll get if she actually touches it. Her hand flits from lock to lock like a hummingbird. Now there are six. How are there six? She counts again, baffled to find that the number has halved itself to three.

She tries to count again, but this time, there are none.

Now she does reach out to touch the door, she can't help it - she can't believe it. They can't have taken the locks away. They're important. Hasn't she made it clear how incredibly important it is that they keep her in here?

The door does not shock her. Instead, it swings open beneath her hand, smooth and silent.

Melanie presses her lips together, her mouth a thin, disapproving line. She doesn't like the thought of leaving her room, but someone has to be told about this so they can get it fixed. Keeping her movements slow and even, as if she's trying to sneak past a group of hungries, Melanie carefully steps out into the hall to look for help.

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That is not Aziraphale.

Worse, he's a soldier - not a ROMAC guard, but a proper soldier, like any of the ones that used to live at the base. He could have been strapping her into a wheelchair, or holding her at gunpoint, or calling her a frigging abortion. Melanie stiffens like a startled cat, then darts back a few yards, bare feet pattering on the floor in an unsettlingly rapid tattoo.

"Stay away from me!" she snaps. This time, it's less clear whether it's his safety that concerns her, or her own.

"Woah!" Daniel's hands fly up, palms out, and he backs away slowly in what's intended to be a peaceable, reassuring gesture. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

All right, so yes. Intimidating. Definitely intimidating. Other than perhaps his stature Daniel can't imagine why - he's lacking even the bare minimum of a sidearm which is really just basic oversight on the part of -

And then he looks down, and realizes.

Yes.

He's back in his old olive green BDUs. Thoroughly militarian in appearance, even if the shirt is unbuttoned in a definitely non-regulatory fashion.

Daniel looks back up, wincing, and concludes that this is definitely a dream. And it's already not going well.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice low and quiet and hopefully consoling. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Melanie retreats further, ducking sideways down a hall so she can peer at the soldier from around the corner, leaving only half of her head and a few pale fingers visible. She doesn't see a gun, but that doesn't mean he hasn't got one tucked away, and she doesn't want to present an easy target.

"Who are you?" she asks, eyes (or eye, from his perspective) narrowing in suspicion. "How did you get in here?"

He backs up a few more paces just for good measure. The girl seems intent on putting a good amount of distance between them, so he'll just...help her out with that until she can see that he's quite harmless. He's not even armed and in the same thought he really really hopes that they are the only two people in the vicinity right now.

"It's okay," Daniel repeats, straining to see the small figure peeking out from the other side of the hallway. He doesn't think simple repetition will do any good, so he starts with answering her questions. Perfectly reasonable questions. "My name's Daniel. I just, I came in here, I was lost and I was just looking for a way out. I'm sorry if I startled you."

He keeps his hands away from his sides in an effort to look nonthreatening, though in her defense he can see why a six foot man in BDUs might seem intimidating even if he currently feels like the farthest thing from it.

This is a dream, Melanie reminds herself. According to Aziraphale, that means neither of them can get hurt - or if they can, it'll be gone when they wake up. It's a little reassuring, but only a little. The wall feels real, and the floor feels real, and she imagines getting shot would feel pretty real, too.

"Daniel," she repeats, leaning out just enough to glare at him with both eyes instead of just one. Daniel, like that Bible story Miss Justineau read them once. "In the lions' den," she says aloud. It might even be true. She'd sure like to think that she's a bigger danger to him than he is to her. And he does seem to be trying not to frighten her.

Melanie gives him a dubious once-over, then orders, "Hold your arms out straight to the side. And hold still."

He smiles a little at the biblical reference, both to continue to look friendly and in bemusement at her immediate association.

"That's right," he replies, "like the lions' den." He'd like to say something about not hurting the lions or the lions not hurting him but that would be drawing false parallels with some rather disturbing implications. He elects to stay where he is while the girl gives him orders with an authority that belies her physical age, though Daniel knows by now that appearances can be deceiving. He obeys in slow, precise movements, worried that any sudden motion could be misconstrued as a threat.

"It's okay," he says again, completely unsure if the words are having their desired effect. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

He's clearly trying to be friendly, but the uniform makes her disinclined to trust him. Maybe it's some sort of trick. Or maybe he thinks he's telling the truth, but he'll change his mind in a hurry once he finds out what she is.

Either way, she needs to reassure herself that he's unarmed. Melanie edges out from around the corner, then slowly makes her way toward him, ready to bolt if he makes any sudden moves. But he doesn't, and she comes to an uneasy halt a few paces away. "I'm going to check for weapons," she explains, eyes already seeking out any tell-tale bulges where a holster might be hidden. "Okay?"

"Okay." All right then, so she clearly knows what she's doing. And seeing as she can't be more than ten Daniel finds that...concerning. She's just a kid. She shouldn't have to know or care about weapons but - okay, he's just going to go along with it if it helps put her at ease.

"I'm unarmed," he says as she draws closer, holding himself as still as he possibly can. Daniel's pretty sure he is, anyway, because he didn't actually check and there's always the chance that the dream could have dropped some of his old gear into the setting along with him. Assuming it is a dream. He's not sure if the girl knows or suspects it. But he's missing the familiar weight of a sidearm or the bulk of the tac vest so he can only stand, proverbial fingers crossed, and pray that the Rift didn't go farther than BDUs.

Melanie's never actually frisked someone before, awake or in dreams, nor is she familiar with the standard methodology. Her only thoughts are that it has to be thorough and it has to be quick. And that she doesn't want to frighten him too much, though now that she's given him some warning, she figures that won't be an issue.

"Okay," she says. "Hold still." Then, with startling swiftness, she swarms over him like a squirrel, her body light enough not to unbalance him even as she scrambles up to his shoulders to check for any hidden weapons holsters up there. Finding none, she leaps off of him and returns to stand where she was before. The entire process is completed in the space of three seconds.

"All right," she says, a bit begrudgingly, as she peers up at him. "I guess you are."

She's telling him to hold still again which is ridiculous because that's exactly what he's been doing but he complies anyway and just keeps standing there and she -

- what is she -

Daniel doesn't have time to do anything more than tense up significantly and open his mouth to yelp in alarm, but she's clamored on like actually climbing all over him and then off again before he has the chance to properly vocalize. The fleeting contact leaves him with a slight lingering chill in his spine and he shudders involuntarily. Good god he had no idea kids could move that fast. Or efficiently.

Assuming she's human.

Which, in all fairness, she might not be.

Which is possible and not yet proven but that - he finds that unsettling.

"Um," he manages after a minute of trying without success to shake the unpleasant feeling left behind by the girl's frankly bizarre method of frisking, "good. That's good. Uh. Can I move now?"

"Yes." Melanie takes a few slow steps backward - he's clearly unsettled, but that's probably just as well. She's used to people being a bit frightened of her. It's almost comforting. This is how humans should feel around her, if they want to stay safe.

Still. "I'm sorry I frightened you," she says politely, linking her hands behind her back. "I'm Melanie."

Daniel relaxes at her assurance but doesn't miss the absurdity of their abrupt role reversal. He distantly finds it amusing, or would if he weren't so preoccupied with a veritable flood of questions about who this girl is and where she came from.

"Hello Melanie," he says, echoing her polite if oddly formal tone. "It's very nice to meet you. Can you tell me what you're doing here all alone?"

The display of preternatural agility had been startling to say in the least, but Daniel's first priority is to find out exactly why there's a young girl wandering the hallways here, apparently on her own. If she's been here alone for long enough, it's no wonder she was initially scared of him.

"It's a dream," she says, just in case he didn't know. "And the locks on my door disappeared, so I came out to…" she trails off, wondering if it even matters. If this is a dream, then she doesn't have to be locked up - she can't infect anyone like this, and maybe the hungry part of her understands that, because even when she was scrambling over him, she didn't want to bite him.

Melanie shrugs. "I guess it doesn't matter. None of it's real."

"So it is a dream," Daniel says, pleased that he worked it out so early on. Maybe he's getting a better grasp of all this after all. "Okay, good, so that explains a little, but - wait, hang on. You said you were locked in here?"

At this he frowns, not so much in confusion than in moral disapproval. She's just a kid, he repeats to himself for the umpteenth time. He can't imagine why anyone would.

Melanie suppresses a sigh. It was stupid of her to mention the locks - she should know by now that people who don't know her situation would find the idea upsetting.

She really doesn't want to tell this soldier what she really is.

"It's fine," she says firmly. "I like it here."

"You, you like it -"

No, he can't even really say it. Daniel looks up, casts a disbelieving, sweeping look around the barren halls and then back at Melanie.

"Why do you like it here?" No, that's a poor way of phrasing it. Daniel hastily tries to correct himself, stumbling, "I, I mean, uh - Melanie, have, have you been, uh, locked in here for a, a long time?"

Because that's definitely a cause for concern.

Melanie echoes his glance around the hall, as if it might have changed its appearance since she last paid particular attention to it. It looks just the same as it had before, similar to the underground base where she and the other hungry children were held. A bit bare and boring, sure, but it hadn't bothered her then, and it doesn't bother her now.

She can't imagine why it would bother Daniel. Isn't this the sort of place soldiers like him make for themselves?

Answering either of his question would require skirting too close to the truth, so Melanie just restates herself. "I want to stay here. It's…" safest? No. "Best."

"Best how?" Daniel slowly drops into a kneel so he's at eye level with her, head to one side as he tries to understand her reasoning. "Why, why are you in here?"

And the way she says it is more than a little disconcerting, a bit like a rehearsed directive, which just doesn't sit right with him.

"Look, I realize you don't know me," he hurries to explain, "and you don't have any reason to trust me. But for what it's worth I would like to help."

Melanie shifts back a step as Daniel drops to his knees, his movements so smooth that for a moment, she wonders if he does know what she is. But then he says he wants to help her, and she rejects that theory. No soldier would help a hungry child that they'd only just met.

He does seem to be a nice sort of soldier, though. More like Gallagher than Parks. Melanie feels a bit sorry for him.

"Would you rather help me," she asks, her tone considerably more gentle than it had been before, "or would you rather help everyone else?"

"I can't do both?" He smiles a little as he says it with the faint lift of a joke, but her words leave a chill. There's an explanation there somewhere and he's not sure he's going to like it.

"Look, Melanie, I know it might not seem like it, but I actually have...no idea where I am right now." He might as well admit it up front. She's being plenty honest with him, or as far as he can tell. He continues, gentle, "I'm more than a little confused about, uh, everything? Why don't you explain it to me?"

"That's good," Melanie says in approving response to his stated ignorance. If he doesn't know where he is (aside from a dream, anyway), then he'll have a hard time trying to find her, even if he's inclined to look. "You shouldn't know where I am." It's much safer for everyone this way.

She gives Daniel a searching look, wondering how much she can get away with telling him. Maybe if she keeps it very simple and vague, like she's telling a story for very young children, she could get the point across without getting everything across.

"In my universe," she starts with the same sort of tone that Miss Justineau used for 'once upon a time,' "there was a very bad disease. It turned people into monsters. Everyone caught it, in the end." Everyone but Miss Justineau. Melanie had seen to that. "Some people - children, like me - could carry it inside without being monsters." That part is important. She might not be a proper little girl, but she's not like the other hungries, either. "But I still have it. And if it gets out, it'll kill everyone, just like before."

She shrugs and spreads her hands a little, the universal gesture for 'what can you do?' "So if you want to help me and everyone else, the best thing you could do is just leave me here."

Daniel honestly can't tell what's worse - the explanation she gives him or the matter-of-fact way in which she delivers it. This is normal for her, accepted. He rubs one hand over his mouth and shuts his eyes to mask the fact that he has absolutely no idea how to respond to any of it. She doesn't seem to be looking for sympathy or a solution, but Daniel naturally feels inclined to offer both.

She's been essentially quarantined her whole life, and for her it makes perfect sense to remain that way, possibly indefinitely. That's all Melanie's known. She's a carrier, from what he can understand, for some...vague and unpleasant-sounding virus that is hopefully not airborne or transferred through touch. Probably not. He's going to assume no.

At her suggestion, Daniel's hand drops and he looks back up at her sharply.

"No," he says reflexively, much fiercer than he means to. But just - god, that doesn't sound like any kind of life for anyone, let alone a ten-year-old girl. He immediately softens his tone and dials it back a bit. "No, I, I can't do that. I can't just - I'm not going to leave you here. That, this, this whole place where you're just locked away is, that's no way to live."

"You have to," she says bluntly. "This is a nice enough way to live for me, and it's the only way everyone else will be able to live, too. You don't have a choice."

That came out a bit more pitiless than Melanie had really meant it to, and she cautiously steps forward and lays a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "It's very kind of you to want to help me." And foolish, but she keeps that thought to herself. "But this is best." She pats his shoulder, a bit less awkwardly than she had with Aziraphale.

He's a little surprised when Melanie puts her hand on his shoulder, but she seems to be more comfortable around him now if still a little hesitant. But her next words just make the care she put in the action worse. He shakes his head, adamant.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that." Daniel nervously reaches out to mirror her gesture from before, one hand gingerly brushing her shoulder. "There's always an alternative, another way, something. We just, we'll have to find it."

It makes sense, if she's been locked here for a long time, that she never would be familiarized with alternatives. And it's probable her captors haven't thought to try anything else when the system they have now works for their purposes, Melanie's mental well-being be damned. And Daniel doesn't find that acceptable.

Oh, dear. The look Melanie gives him is faintly perplexed. What is she supposed to do with this man and his ill-advised determination to 'save' her from her own best case scenario?

She's definitely not telling him where they are. The last thing she needs is for him to try and track her down once he's woken up, assuming he remembers his dreams. But maybe there's something he could do in here that would make him feel a bit better. It is only a dream, after all.

"Well," she says slowly, "since this is a dream, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for me to go outside." And if it does end up turning into some kind of dream rampage, at least she'll have made her point. "Maybe we can find an exit."

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