18:00

61 : Scars

Lightbulb thought things were finally getting better.

Mic's 'test', however sudden and early it was, was relatively harmless. Weird, but harmless. And with the arrival of Trophy, even if it was unfortunate he found his way back here, everyone was able to make their apologies and move on from the past as best they could. Nothing had been happening for a good while, and things were finally looking up.

Then Bow was called in. Of course, Soap and Bow were called in more than anybody else, so the hope still lingered for a couple hours after. But after it became apparent this wasn't just a short check-in, and Trophy and Mic both refused to talk about what they could hear, the atmosphere began to dip again.

When she came back in the room, everyone's fears were founded. Stitches along her back, almost the exact same to the ones on her stomach. She'd been asleep, but everybody already knew it wasn't from anesthetic, based on the water stains on the fabric of her face.

And when she woke up, she couldn't move properly. She could hardly sit up, usually leaning on something for support. Soap had grown more tired too, but she refused to go to sleep until she knew everyone else was asleep as well, and it didn't take a genius to connect the dots there. The room had grown more quiet, both to let Bow and Soap sleep in, and because nobody knew how to interrupt such a dense, despaired silence.

It was almost funny, how it took weeks to build up hope, but just a couple hours for it to all crumble.

Despite the near week she had to think about these things, Lightbulb still couldn't get her mind off of them as she stared down at her lunch. It was half eaten- as Soap had always insisted, even if they didn't have an appetite, they still needed the strength- but she found herself spacing out. Knife and Mic were talking quietly in one of the corners, and Soap was writing something down in the notebook as Bow silently watched. Still, the air weighed heavy on Lightbulb, and she couldn't get herself to eat any more of her meal.

She leaned against the wall, sitting far enough away from the others, but the blanket still laid over her legs as she thought to herself.

"You okay?" Someone suddenly interrupted. His voice was quiet, but startled Lightbulb nonetheless. She looked up, and wasn't too surprised at who had managed to sneak up on her.

"Mhm. I'm fine, just thinking." She mumbled. She looked back down at her sandwich, knowing her excuse was hardly believable. But she couldn't make a good lie for the life of her, so it's all she had to offer.

"Right." Trophy replied, not bothering to point out how she was obviously not fine. He sat down beside her, not saying another word.

The two sat in complete silence. Trophy's expression was unreadable, which didn't help to soothe Lightbulb's nerves whatsoever. She stared down, trying to get her mind on anything that wasn't-

"You shouldn't do that. Shattered glass tends to cut skin." Trophy suddenly spoke up. She looked up, confused. He gestured to her stomach, where tons of thick scars laid, never having healed completely. Her fingers picked at the rough glass, which she hadn't even realized she'd been doing.

Slightly embarrassed, she put her hands at her sides. "Right, right, thanks. Didn't even realize I was doing that."

"All good." He said halfheartedly. He didn't look away, oddly enough, but he didn't say anything else either. Lightbulb paused, looking back at him.

"I know it's weird.." She spoke up, trying to fill the silence, "but it's kind of comforting. Just the physical reminder of what happened. Not that I liked what happened to me, but..."