Agent 38: In The Making

Chapter 43: Misery

*I packed in a super long one for you guys. Hope you enjoy. Also, it's... kinda depressing.*
     It had been a long, long time since Eight had felt happy. It'd been almost 2 months after the incident.
     At first, the pain of being alone had been irrelevant, like a small nagging sadness at the back of her mind. To help with it, she'd started working more, going on patrols every day, every other hour. Then... the loneliness increased. Eight would walk around the apartment, settle into the places that still carried Three's sense of familiarity, and try to not cry as she layed there.
     And then, well... then she started getting depressed.
     Sleepless nights, easy blowups, crying constantly, loss of appetite, loss of motivation... all the bad things.
     Eight threw herself on the bed, wrapped her cold body in the covers, and stared up at the ceiling. She was constantly cold nowadays, as if all the warmth had been sucked out of the world and kept away from her. The only warmth that felt valid anymore to her was him. His arms, his face, his strong, gentle touch.
     Eight knew the Splatoon was worried about her. They said it aloud most of the time as well. But she didn't want their pity. All she wanted was him.
     Her phone buzzed quietly on the corner of the bed. She sighed, curled into a ball, and grabbed it. It was a text message from Callie.
    
                               1:38 P.M.

Callie:
Hey 8! Hope ur doing betr. We have an assignment 4 u at Bluefin Depot btw and need u to come over to patrol it with 4. See u in a bit?

     Eight looked at the message for a moment. She really didn't feel like getting out of bed. Or doing anything. Frankly, she felt entirely resigned to laying in the bed and letting the Earth take her back once again. Finally, she let out a sigh.

                              1:39 P.M.

                                                                          You:
                              Sure. Be down there in a bit.

     Eight heaved out a breath, and sat up with a grunt. She stood up, put on her Hero gear, and walked out of the house with a small backpack slung across her shoulders, containing her phone, a charger, and an apple.
     Oh, Eight thought carelessly. I forgot to have breakfast. And lunch.
     She sighed again, and dropped into the manhole. Eight swam slowly through the ink, as if weighed down by her sadness. She climbed back out into the light, rubbing her bagged eyes.
     Eight pulled herself out of the manhole, shaking off ink, and walked forward toward the Cabin to retrieve her assignment.
     The Outpost seemed empty... quiet.
     Too quiet.
     Eight dropped the backpack on the ground and crouched into battle position.
     "Hello?" She called, pivoting on her heels. "Is anyone there?"
     Eight whirled again. "Hello?" She cried again. "Callie? Marie? Aaron?"
     She felt a small tap on her shoulder and her eyes went wide. For a moment, flashbacks from the fight spun behind her eyes.
     In a flash, she whirled around, grabbed the hand with one arm, and locked it into an awkward position with the other. "Stay away from me, Three!"
     Aaron gazed at her, bewildered and stunned. Eight let go of him with a gasp.
     "Hey, it's just me," Aaron said, a comforting, half-worried smile on his face. "No need to be scared."
     Eight dropped to her knees and burst into tears.
     "Woah, woah, hey, what's wrong?" He said, crouching down with her as well. Aaron kept one hand on her shoulder and another on her back.
     "I-I'm sorry, Aaron," Eight said. "I just- I m-miss him so much b-but I get n-nightmares of him too, I just f-feel so lonely!"
     "Aw, Eight," He said, pulling her into a hug. "Don't feel lonely. Look, I know your sad and scared and angry, but you gotta trust that he'll be okay. Three's gonna come back, and when he does, we're all gonna be back together again and the Splatoon's gonna be stronger than ever before. You know why? Cuz we got you, the best Agent who has ever lived. And then we'll have Three! We'll triumph, just you wait and see. I can feel it."
     Eight looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "How c-can you be so sure?"
     He smiled wholeheartedly. "That's just it. I can't be so sure. But I have faith, and it's strong."
     "You're lucky," She whispered. "Your faith hasn't been crushed yet."
     "Yours hasn't either," He said. "You're still here, with us, waiting patiently. Your faith is still strong."
     Eight hesitated for a second, debating whether to tell him completely how she was feeling. Instead, she shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and sighed.
     "Come on," Aaron said. "We've got an assignment to finish."
     They both stood up and walked towards the launchpad.
     Eight let out a sigh. "Four, I can feel you staring at me. Say what you wanna say."
     "Er... ok," He said. "Do you... wanna talk about the nightmares? I mean, I'm your best friend, and I'm here for you. If you wanna talk about what's bothering you, I got your back."
     She had to squint to keep her eyes from overflowing with tears. "I mean... I miss Three a lot. I can't imagine my life without him, so it hurts now that he's... gone. I know, the doctor said he's in a coma, and he's gonna come back, but... I'm also scared of him. Terrified. After the fight-" Her mind went back to him. His face, engulfed in fury, his prime directive, to kill her. She shivered. "I guess I just want stability again. I want things to go back before his side effects, I want that nice relationship again.
     "What is my life if I'm alone? What is my life if I can't have him? Without the security of me knowing that he's going to come back..." Eight took a shaky breath, stopping on front of the launchpad and bowing her head. "What if Three doesn't come back? What if I'm alone, forever? What if-"
     Aaron covered her mouth with one finger. "Eight, don't think that way. You gotta have faith. You gotta believe Three's gonna be back. As I've experienced before, life is a big, bumpy ride, and you don't always have the security of your seatbelt on. But when the seatbelt comes undone, and it takes you a long time to secure it again because of the bumps, you have to trust you're not gonna fall off the ride."
     She laughed a little. "Your metaphors are weird. But meaningful."
     "Thanks?"
     They jumped onto the launchpad, Aaron leading the way, until they got to the Depot. Eight felt a sudden rush of deja vu as she remembered the time Miku had taken her. The fake Cabin stood in the corner in shambles, and ink stains from the sanitized Octarians still tainted the grass from the day of the battle.
     "I go left, you go right, okay?" Aaron said. She nodded. "Alert me if you see anything." He waltzed off, humming a cheerful tune. Eight turned, gazing at the Depot. Currently, it was bathed in light, giving it a strange shiny feeling. It felt inappropriately cheery, if you thought about what happened to Three.
     A flood of rage sizzled through her veins. Every time she thought about those monsters, it made her want to track them down and rip their heads off. Eight had to constantly remind herself that she shouldn't be like those squidiots. That she wouldn't be like them.
     Eight forced her mind away from them as a fresh burst of panic sent chills through her body, the kind of sweat-inducing panic she usually kept buried. The reason why is because it took her to an even more depressing place; her imagination. Currently, it was filled with horrible thoughts, such as the future. What would happen to Three, what would happen to her if the worst happened to him, all sorts of extremely overthought thoughts that were driving her insane with anxiety and worry.
     Eight turned back to the path and started walking along it. It seemed quiet, with birds tweeting and the wind waving in the background. It almost seemed peaceful, actually. She felt her shoulders relax for the first time in months, her teeth unclench, her headache ease.
     The toe of her boot gently hit something and she tripped over it with a yelp of surprise. Irritated, she turned to glare at it, before realizing it was that same dagger Three had used to injure her only a few months earlier.
     A sudden rush of fear swept through her like a cold wind as she remembered that day. The deranged look in his eyes, the way he talked, as if he simply didn't care whether she lived or died. Eight remembered how the chaos erupted behind him, screams of rage echoing in her ears. The cold steel of the dagger jabbing into her leg, much like the eerie cold of his stone-like facial features.
     It took her a moment to realize her heart was racing and cold sweat was rolling down her back. Eight took a shaky breath, lifting her trembling hands.
     She rubbed her eyes, trying to calm herself. It's over... it already happened... you don't need to have a panic attack, you're fine... he's not bad anymore...
     Eight removed her hands, calming her speeding heart. Her eyes drifted back to the dagger, locking onto it as the sun glinted off its blade.
     Maybe... Eight thought. That dagger should have gone into my hearts, instead.