𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.

𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅
____________

Next week you arrived and despite still feeling rather lightheaded, Beacon seemed way warmer and normal than before, not a desolate and corporate place now that most of the faces you saw were familiar, and friendly towards you. You hadn't been alone now, in breaks you almost always had someone by your side if Mila wasn't there, and even if you weren't invested in your coworkers' lives as others were, you appreciated how they kept you updated on gossip.

It felt like your old job before you had to leave.

"Told you, you needed to get out!" Mila said, in the mess hall. You both were following the same routine you often made; west wing to get a patient out, she'd take them to their destination and you'd continue down to your floor. You both happily greeted two passing nurses with your hands and continued down the hall.

"You were right, thank you" was your simple reply, looking down at your feet, how they followed each other, how these carpets reminded you of a long time gone. "Ey, I meant to ask you something"

"Shoot it" She responded, placing an arm around your shoulders.

"When a patient threatens your life. Why do you call it a 'Jenkins'?" You paid close attention to her face, and she scrunched her nose up like a bad smell just filled the air, and released you from her friendly hug.

"I don't know what to tell you, ██████, I think it happened years before I worked here and nobody's wanted to tell me before, so I advise you let it go" And her serious demeanor made your gut churn in a hot pain.

"Alright... Thank you" you whispered back and sent her a smile, one which calmed her nerves visibly. "I'll see you later" you waved and turned, marching towards your workplace as she left the main building with her patient.

And down the hallway you saw a face that you hoped wouldn't see today.

Mikhail... He had also been closer to you since Vicenzo's. He was always there when you found yourself without company, he carried your stuff and got you coffee, and despite how on edge you felt around him you still tried to push those feelings to the side, rationalizing them as just the nerves of unfamiliarity taking a hold of you.

"Look who's here!" He greeted, as charming as before, yet the way he hooked his arm around yours felt vaguely threatening. "I'm so glad to see you, where are you headed?" He asked, and tagged along uninvited, you noted

"The Morgue. You know. Work" you replied, somewhat dry yet that didn't drive him away. He continued to walk by your side, making small talk, complimenting the outfit you had beneath your lab coat and how nice your eyes looked that morning. It seemed empty and pushy, yet you smiled along.

"You seem rather bummed out today, what's wrong?" He asked, and you thought that maybe he didn't really want to know. That it was just an excuse to get closer, to know things about you when you only knew his name.

But it wouldn't harm to ask.

So you shot the Jenkins question, without any information that could link back to your personal life. "Apparently it happened like more than a decade ago? But I cannot shake it off, you know? Who was the owner of that name?"

"A decade? Bullshit" Mikhail stated, frowning in thought "That was a few months before you arrived. Some girl tried to kill Dr. Jiménez, injured him pretty badly" he turned to look you, directly in the eye "I never treated her, but I think they called her Nellie. Nellie Jenkins"

Nellie.

Eleanor.

The elevator rang, empty as always, and you stepped inside with a cold sweat, your face probably drained of all color. Why would Mila even lie to you? Why wasn't Eleanor there anymore, not in records or on the voice of the nurses around, why was she just an incident? Just a ghost story in Beacon's folklore, a poltergeist or an indent on history? She had been here, it wasn't all just a dream or a fucked up memory. Months ago... you had been so close to seeing her...

"And what happened to her?" You did your best to maintain your voice neutral, and didn't quite know if it was successful. It felt like you were choking, you looked past your eyesight and into your thoughts and begged for forgiveness.

"Oh. She went missing some time later" you swallowed thickly, readjusting the neck of your shirt so you wouldn't be constricted by it anymore. "Why, you knew her or something?"

"No, nothing" you responded, perhaps a bit too quickly "just curiosity, that's all"

He hummed in a gesture if approval, perhaps believing your lies, and the elevator stopped right at your floor. As soon as those doors opened you speed walked towards your morgue; with Mikhail behind and the new knowledge acquired those hermetic metal doors felt like a salvation, a heaven at arm's reach.

"Now now" You felt his heavy hand on your shoulder, he turned you around and pushed you gently against the wall. You looked at the flashy red letters of your workplace; so close. "Why'd you leave so quickly? Don't you enjoy my company? I've done so much for you these days, don't you think I deserve some compensation?"

"What?" You stared back at him, dumbfounded, or rather disgustingly surprised by what he was saying. "I'll say thank you. But no?"

He was uncomfortably close now, and you gazed to your side to see if there was a chance for an escape. But it was you and him, and the lonely cold hallway.

"Maybe a date? Or perhaps a trip to the upstairs bathroom" he chuckled, caging you between both his arms.

Your eyes fulminated him, your anger exacerbated by the frustration of feeling helpless "I said no. Leave me alone"

And the sternness of your voice or the way your palms tried to push him away from your body were not enough to make him back down. You felt his nose rub your cheek in a strange tenderness, sending shivers down your spine –the hopeless, disgusting, terrible kind–.

"Oh, don't be such a bitch" he growled, angrier than you, threatening and horrible "you know you'd love i-"

"I suggest you back away, Andreyev" Someone said from the side, and as your harasser let you go, you turned to see Ruben standing there, watching Mikhail with a dangerous gaze, so unrelenting you couldn't help but feel afraid too. Still, his cold, spiteful voice was like the hand of an angel in that moment. "You're walking on thin ice, you could get fired at any moment if the Chief of Staff finds out about this. I don't want to see you near ██████ again, understood?"

You saw Mikhail walk away in silence, furious, and you could finally breathe again.

"Ruben. For fuck's sake, thank you" You turned to him, meeting his hawk like eyes.

He rose one of his gauzed hands to your face and dried a single, stray tear you hadn't noticed before "You're welcome. Next time, kick him in the groin, you won't get in trouble, I promise"

You laughed, genuinely, and while you stayed shaken it helped you calm your nerves. "I'll send the word to HR or something, I'm afraid he'll do it again or..."

You were interrupted by his hands on your cheeks, making you stare into his eyes. "Justice comes in unexpected ways, ██████. It will come, don't worry"

He let you go and smiled, slightly, before turning towards his office and making his way towards it.

You spent the rest of your day locked up in the safety of your morgue, the smell of formaldehyde way more comforting than Mikhail's cheap cologne.