Risks and Rewards (Of a Life so Simple)

Passing the Torch

When Three went through the old grate, Cuttlefish was already waiting for her. For a moment, that surprised her, but the feeling passed quickly. It wasn't like she was expecting him to be somewhere else.

She walked over to his side, and he looked up at her. "Ah, Agent Three. Nice to see you. How have you been?"

"I need to talk to you." She blurted out, then cringed. "M-Meep said you...would have valuable perspective to share, in, in regards to an issue I'm having." She explained, arms rigid at her side in some approximation of professionalism.

Cuttlefish regarded her, her frozen, awkward posture, her face, and his expression went soft. "Sit, Three. I'd be happy to help you." He patted the spot next to him.

Three gulped, and did as requested. She sat there rigidly still.

The older Inkling frowned. "There's no reason to be so nervous, Three. I'm not going to judge you, no matter what it is you're having trouble with. What is it?"

Three took a breath. "I...maybe uh...do you mind if I start from the beginning? It...it would be better with, no, easier to explain with context. It's...a lot."

Cuttlefish nodded.

And so, Three talked. Talked about a childhood where she felt like her emotions weren't always logical. Where her parents were good, and kind, but didn't always know how to help when she had a bad period despite the medication. Growing up just...drifting, keeping herself in check. Enjoying her hobbies but never quite having the courage to connect with her peers in a way that felt real to her. Managing well despite it all.

Moving out, finding the same manhole cover she'd come through today, and finding purpose. A purpose that made her drift harder. How she'd thrown herself into agent work, so desperate to feel like she was accomplishing something, like she was helping, that her depressive episodes became more frequent. Working hard to get through them so she could keep helping. Flip-flopping between detached while on the job and overwhelmed when the day was over. Managing poorly.

Then the deep dive into a depressive pit following the metro, followed by Meep pulling her out of the dark. Being able to finally have a connection with someone, and that bond with Meep making it easier to reach out to Four. Finally feeling like she'd made it, social life wise. Connecting with all her fellow agents in a way she hadn't before.

And then her most recent spiral, brought on by so many little things. Dozens of tiny insecurities. A thousand microscopic doubts. Holing herself up in her apartment and staying there for a week, barely even texting Meep until she invited her over. How the Octoling had pulled her out of the dark again, just by listening. How she'd said the captain would listen too.

When she was finally done with it all, she felt out of breath, empty, vacant of all feeling. Not upset for sharing her life story, but...not particularly relieved either.

Cuttlefish was regarding her gently, still. Just like he had when she'd started. He'd not interrupted once.

And even now, with Three done, he didn't say anything. Not for a long, thoughtful moment. Three had to stop herself from spiraling in the anxious seconds between.

But then he did speak again. "That must've been hard for you, Three. Thank you for confiding in me." He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You've been stronger than the best of us, fighting so hard this whole time. You are incredibly brave and I'm proud of you."

The agent felt her eyes water. "It's...it's not brave, it's-"

He shook his head. "It's brave, Three. It takes emotional maturity to do what you've done. It takes strength to share your burdens with others." He frowns, though it seems mostly to himself. "If I'd known sooner how much you were effected by this job, I-"