[Fic] Project Blue Rose: After
Dec. 24th, 2007 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
springgreenSpoilers: Halfway through the comic?
Disclaimer: Not mine, but![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rachelmanija and telophase's!
Summary: After Amber, everything changed.
Notes: Happy fic-gifting day,rachelmanija! And thanks very much to telophase for helping out with information and beta'ing, and thanks to etothey for beta'ing!
Rivas hadn't seen Chely for over a year, but then, he hadn't seen anyone who wasn't an Institute employee for over a year either. After Amber had died, the Institute packed Chely off, presumably to a hospital and rehab and PT, and none of them had seen her since. He couldn't know for sure, of course. After Amber, none of the blue roses were allowed to talk to each other.
After Amber, everything changed.
Rivas didn't miss contact with the other blue roses, though maybe he wouldn't have minded seeing one or two of them again. Chely was in the latter group. He wanted to see if she was okay, to see if they could still play catch together, her telekinesis speeding up the baseball until the game was an actual challenge for him. He wanted to see if she was still good company. He didn't usually care about this kind of stuff: people were interesting only when they were being stupid or amusing or both, and it was just too annoying to deal with things like social niceties. But Chely used to be able to make him snicker with her and Amber's pranks, and Chely used to appreciate his snide comments.
It took him a few months to find out where they were keeping Chely, and a few weeks to figure out a plan. Everything went smoothly, at least until he entered Chely's room through the window and was greeted by a pen at his jugular.
"It's Joe," he whispered. Thankfully, the pen clattered to the floor, but there was no other movement in the room. "Can I come in?" he asked. "Someone's going to see me."
"Yeah," he heard.
Only a few slivers of light crept into the room, but enough for him to see Chely sitting up in bed, her head lowered. An awkward silence filled the room. Rivas wished he hadn't come.
"You okay?" he finally asked.
"Yeah," she repeated. Uh huh.
He tried again. "I'm sorry about Amber --"
Chely interrupted, almost speaking to herself. "I don't even have a picture of her."
"I'm sorry," he said once more, sounding pathetic even to himself.
"It's okay," she said, and he might have snorted at that because she was so clearly lying. But then she finally looked at him. A long, angry scar ran through her right eye, and she smiled bitterly as he let a small gasp escape. He had expected injuries, but he apparently hadn't prepared himself enough for it. This wasn't the Chely who had jokingly levitated a cup of milk over Nick's head, nor was it the Chely who learned how to pick locks with her power just so she could sneak in and leave shaving cream on people's faces as they slept.
"Do you want to go get a picture of her?" he blurted. "I found out they keep some records here. We could get hers."
Chely motioned toward her legs. "I can't really get around these days."
Rivas felt stupid again: he should have seen the leg braces propped up by the bed. "I can go," he said, and Chely nodded.
The security in the place was good, but it didn't even come close to the systems he had practiced on. He guessed the Institute didn't expect any of the blue roses to go for medical records, that or they just didn't keep the top-secret files here. Not that it mattered. He just needed a picture. He found the filing cabinet and started searching, scanning the folders for the "w"'s. But before he got to Amber's file, he spotted "Rivas, Joe" and "Sanchez, Chely." He grabbed all three of the files and ran out.
When he got back to Chely's room, he was greeted with the pen again. "Paranoid much?" he asked. The pen flew up toward his face, and instinctively, Rivas flinched when the point touched his cheek. But Chely maneuvered the pen back to his cheek and drew something on his face. Rivas groaned and hoped it wouldn't be too hard to wash off.
"Thanks a lot," he grumped as she finished. "Here." He shoved her file and Amber's at her. Chely's tiny smile faded when she saw Amber's name, and Rivas looked away as she opened the folder, not wanting to intrude.
He listened to Chely slowly flip through the papers, then heard her breath catch. He turned toward her. Her jaw was clenched and her chest was heaving; for a moment, she just sat like that, breathing in and out, not making any other sound. Then the blank expression slid off her face, replaced by a terrible grief, and she began to sob violently. Rivas couldn't think of anything to say or do, so he just stood there as Chely kept crying and tried not to imagine what she was thinking, tried not to remember how horrified they had all been at the news of Amber's death, tried not to selfishly resent Amber for leaving them like this, for not being here to comfort Chely, for all the changes her death had wrought.
When Chely's gulps and sobs finally quieted to the occasional small hiccup, Rivas awkwardly touched her shoulder, intending to say something inane or to maybe give it a few pats. But Chely panicked and scrabbled back, yelling, "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"
He quickly drew back his hand, mumbled "I'm sorry," and fled through the window, hating the Institute, hating their powers, hating his own incompetence.
By the time he made it back to his room, he had forgotten about the file he had tucked inside his jacket. It fell out as he unzipped his jacket, papers scattering everywhere. He leaned over to pick them up, then froze.
He read:
And he thought of Chely breaking down in a dark room, no family nor friends, isolated like all the other blue roses.
Just like him.
Disclaimer: Not mine, but
rachelmanija and telophase's!Summary: After Amber, everything changed.
Notes: Happy fic-gifting day,
rachelmanija! And thanks very much to telophase for helping out with information and beta'ing, and thanks to etothey for beta'ing!Rivas hadn't seen Chely for over a year, but then, he hadn't seen anyone who wasn't an Institute employee for over a year either. After Amber had died, the Institute packed Chely off, presumably to a hospital and rehab and PT, and none of them had seen her since. He couldn't know for sure, of course. After Amber, none of the blue roses were allowed to talk to each other.
After Amber, everything changed.
Rivas didn't miss contact with the other blue roses, though maybe he wouldn't have minded seeing one or two of them again. Chely was in the latter group. He wanted to see if she was okay, to see if they could still play catch together, her telekinesis speeding up the baseball until the game was an actual challenge for him. He wanted to see if she was still good company. He didn't usually care about this kind of stuff: people were interesting only when they were being stupid or amusing or both, and it was just too annoying to deal with things like social niceties. But Chely used to be able to make him snicker with her and Amber's pranks, and Chely used to appreciate his snide comments.
It took him a few months to find out where they were keeping Chely, and a few weeks to figure out a plan. Everything went smoothly, at least until he entered Chely's room through the window and was greeted by a pen at his jugular.
"It's Joe," he whispered. Thankfully, the pen clattered to the floor, but there was no other movement in the room. "Can I come in?" he asked. "Someone's going to see me."
"Yeah," he heard.
Only a few slivers of light crept into the room, but enough for him to see Chely sitting up in bed, her head lowered. An awkward silence filled the room. Rivas wished he hadn't come.
"You okay?" he finally asked.
"Yeah," she repeated. Uh huh.
He tried again. "I'm sorry about Amber --"
Chely interrupted, almost speaking to herself. "I don't even have a picture of her."
"I'm sorry," he said once more, sounding pathetic even to himself.
"It's okay," she said, and he might have snorted at that because she was so clearly lying. But then she finally looked at him. A long, angry scar ran through her right eye, and she smiled bitterly as he let a small gasp escape. He had expected injuries, but he apparently hadn't prepared himself enough for it. This wasn't the Chely who had jokingly levitated a cup of milk over Nick's head, nor was it the Chely who learned how to pick locks with her power just so she could sneak in and leave shaving cream on people's faces as they slept.
"Do you want to go get a picture of her?" he blurted. "I found out they keep some records here. We could get hers."
Chely motioned toward her legs. "I can't really get around these days."
Rivas felt stupid again: he should have seen the leg braces propped up by the bed. "I can go," he said, and Chely nodded.
The security in the place was good, but it didn't even come close to the systems he had practiced on. He guessed the Institute didn't expect any of the blue roses to go for medical records, that or they just didn't keep the top-secret files here. Not that it mattered. He just needed a picture. He found the filing cabinet and started searching, scanning the folders for the "w"'s. But before he got to Amber's file, he spotted "Rivas, Joe" and "Sanchez, Chely." He grabbed all three of the files and ran out.
When he got back to Chely's room, he was greeted with the pen again. "Paranoid much?" he asked. The pen flew up toward his face, and instinctively, Rivas flinched when the point touched his cheek. But Chely maneuvered the pen back to his cheek and drew something on his face. Rivas groaned and hoped it wouldn't be too hard to wash off.
"Thanks a lot," he grumped as she finished. "Here." He shoved her file and Amber's at her. Chely's tiny smile faded when she saw Amber's name, and Rivas looked away as she opened the folder, not wanting to intrude.
He listened to Chely slowly flip through the papers, then heard her breath catch. He turned toward her. Her jaw was clenched and her chest was heaving; for a moment, she just sat like that, breathing in and out, not making any other sound. Then the blank expression slid off her face, replaced by a terrible grief, and she began to sob violently. Rivas couldn't think of anything to say or do, so he just stood there as Chely kept crying and tried not to imagine what she was thinking, tried not to remember how horrified they had all been at the news of Amber's death, tried not to selfishly resent Amber for leaving them like this, for not being here to comfort Chely, for all the changes her death had wrought.
When Chely's gulps and sobs finally quieted to the occasional small hiccup, Rivas awkwardly touched her shoulder, intending to say something inane or to maybe give it a few pats. But Chely panicked and scrabbled back, yelling, "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"
He quickly drew back his hand, mumbled "I'm sorry," and fled through the window, hating the Institute, hating their powers, hating his own incompetence.
By the time he made it back to his room, he had forgotten about the file he had tucked inside his jacket. It fell out as he unzipped his jacket, papers scattering everywhere. He leaned over to pick them up, then froze.
He read:
Name: Joe Rivas
Sex: M
Family: half-sister
And he thought of Chely breaking down in a dark room, no family nor friends, isolated like all the other blue roses.
Just like him.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-25 07:05 am (UTC)Thank you so much! As far as I'm concerned, this is now canon.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-25 07:07 am (UTC)