ₘᵣ ₛₐₙdₘₐₙ ~ Dᵢᵣₖ Gₑₙₜₗy ✅

Prologue: The Truth Hurts

Sicillian Presque was pissed. She had been for the past two months. Not much had changed. She'd have an occasional bout of hopelessness, but it was mostly anger than infested the Hollistic Assistant. If being back in Blackwing wasn't bad enough, she could tell you having no idea of the safety of Dirk; or Farah and Todd for that matter, was way, way worse.

They didn't even call her out her room anymore, obviously sick of inconclusive test results and all round uncooperative behaviour from the brunette. It didn't help that Freidkin was an idiot. You'd think after so long he'd have realised she wasn't going to use her adaptations to locate the people she cared about for them. But apparently not. That wasn't even how it worked anyway, Sicillian couldn't choose who to help. If she could, maybe she could have avoided the heartbreaking conversation with Dirk about not being able to stick around with him two months ago. But alas, no such choice.

Arguably the worst part for her was being separated from him. At least when they were in Blackwing in the 90s they could see each other. It was probably the first smart thing Freidkin had done, keeping them all apart. Not that Sicillian would ever admit that. And not that she would stop her fits shouting, begging to know if he was okay.

Really it was a pity the subject's rooms were soundproofed, because if not, he would have heard her.

In the room to the left, Dirk Gently had officially given up. He'd given up any hope of escape, any hope of seeing Farah and Todd again, any hope of seeing Sicillian again. Unlike the Hollistic Assistant, they hadn't stopped testing him.

Everyday was the same. Guess the randomly generated shape. Guess the numbered cup the ball will fall into. Disarm a device blindfolded. It wouldn't work. He wasn't pyschic. The times he'd actually achieved what had been asked of him, it was fluke, luck. Unfortunately, that had only fueled Freidkin, insisting that they continue.

Dirk wasn't as strong as Sicillian. He couldn't be snarky and uncooperative until they left him alone. So he just accepted what was happening to him. He endured it slowly, for lack of a better word, fading, hour after hour. He was utterly empty.

And in his time alone, he didn't call out for anyone. Didn't yell to inquire the safety of any of his friends. Because he was just so emotionally drained, that it's possible even doing more than thinking about his brown haired friend somewhere else in the facility might have broken him. All he had were his dreams. He was safe there, when he fell asleep, it was like his own secret world. Of course it only ever gave him false hope of seeing his friends again, and obviously, it wasn't real. But he had them. And he held onto them.

Sicillian didn't dream. She barely even slept half the time, lying awake, staring at the ceiling. She was unable to relax, and doubted she would until everyone she cared about was safe. And in her mind, that wouldn't be for a very long time.

The brunette spent most of her time pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It was never-ending. It was a sort of method to keep herself grounded, remind herself that she was here, and she was going to get out.

She just hadn't figured out how yet.

At first she'd naively waited, thinking Todd and Farah would come in, guns ablaze, saving her and Dirk in the most action movie-esque way possible. In retrospect, it seemed childish now. The green eyed American would have to take matters into her own hands. And that was the tricky part.

Sicillian had come to the conclusion she lost most of her usefulness without Dirk. She didn't feel half as intelligent or sharp without the British man by her side to bounce ideas off. In the space of a few weeks, they'd become a team, forming a bond stronger than it had been when they were kids. Though she hated the phrasing of it, she found herself beyond missing the blue eyed man, almost yearning for him. She didn't like that word, it made her seem weak, but there was no other way to describe it.

On the other side of the wall, Dirk was feeling the same.