Sympathy for the Devil {Liam Stewart | The Darkest Minds}

6. Sphinxes

Mags learns to love the sunrise; she's usually the first to wake, and so she takes time in the morning to sit up on the roof of wherever they're staying, or the roof of Black Betty, and watch the sun rise above the horizon. Her eyes have adjusted mostly to the outside world, though they still glow red at all times. Charles is the first one to catch her, but he doesn't say anything. He brings whatever book he's found at wherever they've squirrelled themselves away, as they sit shoulder to shoulder on roofs, or he leans back on the hood of Betty. Sometimes Mags brings TV antennas to snack on, sometimes Charles finds supplies enough to bring them both a cup of tea.

He reads, and she watches the sunrise.

"You can call me Chubbs, by the way." It's the first morning where he hasn't brought a book, on top of an empty community centre, arms wrapped around where he's pulled his knees up to his chest. Mags turns slightly, half-frowning in confusion. "It's a nickname." He explained, it's been a few weeks since their escape, and they usually don't speak, these quiet morning are one of the few reprieves they get from the anxiety and fear of always being on the run.

"Oh," Mags turns this over in her mind before turning and resting her chin on her shoulder, watching the way the first rays of light glint through his glasses, "Mags is short for Maggie." It wasn't information she had been trying to hide, she had told Liam in the first week when they were scouting out a neighbourhood and he asked about it., it just felt like the right time to tell Chubbs. He hummed thoughtfully but didn't comment, and they watch the rest of the sunrise in comfortable silence.

Exactly one month after their escape, they find an abandoned but mostly not ransacked mall, which would be incredible, if not for the fact that it was covered in the government's posters boasting about reformed children, with Clancy and a younger Mags smiling brightly from the side of the building. Mags feels her stomach drop and she has to stop as soon as she recognises the posters.

"What's wrong? You had a bad run in with the cure-positive people?" Liam asked, smirking before realising his mistake and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course you did, what am I saying-?" He muttered to himself, paused with Zu and Chubbs just a few steps ahead of where Mags is swaying as though she's about to pass out. "Hey, are you-"

"It's me." Mags said, voice hoarse. It had been years since she had seen the photos, since she had seen Clancy, and yet, here they were in front of her, a lie she can never untell, a mistake she was forced into. The world grows dim, she can't look away from her smiling mirror image, and though she feels herself fall, she doesn't feel herself hit the ground.

It's Liam's face that she sees when she wakes up, he's leaning against a wall and her head is resting on his thigh as he cards his fingers through her hair. His smile brightens when he sees her awaken. Her first instinct is to apologise, but he waves her away.

"It's no problem, just-" his expression betrayed his concern before he finished his thought, "what happened?" She shifts so she's looking out into the rest of the mall, and can hear Zu and Chubbs laughing a few stores away; part of her is glad they aren't here, this isn't a moment she wants them to see.

"It's me on those posters." Finally, she admitted it, and Liam's hand stills in her hair. "I'm Maggie Lyn." She can feel the way his grip tightens on her hair just a little bit. "They found out I wasn't really reformed and they, well, locked me up." The tears in her eyes aren't a surprise but she doesn't want Liam to see her cry, not again.

"You're... Maggie Lyn." It's as if the notion hasn't quite sunk in properly, but he begins playing with her hair again.

"I know, I'm sorry." The words almost get stuck in her throat, and Liam makes a noise of surprise. "I know you-" She's not sure how to say it, that she knows he's against the government and all it's done, how they use the name of a cure to justify experimenting on children, how no-one stopped them because Mags had been part of the team to spread that misinformation around America, "so many kids were hurt because of stuff I had said, that I had been told to just read off a script." There's a wobble in her voice that betrays her crying.

Liam's hand was soft but insistent on her shoulder, asking her silently to turn over and look at him. There was still shock written on his face, but upon seeing how distraught she was, it instantly dissolved into concern. Without a word, he helped her into a more upright position, moving her so her legs bridged over his thighs, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

"It's not your fault." He whispered into her hair, feeling her sob with a grief she had long buried. "You don't need to apologise for surviving; you never need to apologise for surviving." Mags' hand comes up to cover her mouth, her nose pressed against Liam's collar, because she can feel liquid metal rising in her throat from how tense her whole stomach and abdomen was. It seems as though Liam can tell something else is wrong, as he loosens his grip a little to let her lean back, and he sees the way her cheeks are glowing.

"I just want to help people," her voice comes out from behind her hand, determined, "now that I can, I want to-" She falls silent when his hand moves up to hold her jaw lightly, thumb brushing lightly over the glowing skin, before gently lowering her hand to see the way her lips glow like the setting sun, and he looks amazed. However, once he sees the confusion in her eyes and he pulls away, gently moves her legs so she's sitting beside him rather than across him.

"Sorry, I know a lot's happening right now, I shouldn't-" He cuts himself off, moving to shift further away, out of her personal space. Mags makes her stomach relax, now that the anxiety had turned from bad to just butterflies. Reaching out, she grabs his elbow, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"No, I-" her cheeks flush just a little, "I like it, I like-" cutting herself off, he notes how the blush deepens, "I was just worried you- people like you would think I look like a monster."

"You're beautiful, Mags," he answers a little too quickly, like he'd been wanting to say it for a while. A blush rises up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks. "What do you mean people like me?" He asked tentatively, and Mags' hand slid from his elbow until the two of them were hand in hand, and that's where she looks as she tries to work up the nerve to admit what had been brewing in her since the night they he had called them even for saving her life.

"I didn't mean people like you." Voice soft, she taps her fingers nervously against the side of his hand. "I meant you. I meant since you've got eyes, and you know what I've done and who I am, that you'll think I look like... think that I am a monster." A single, solitary tear tracks down her cheek and she wipes it away quickly.

"Mags." Liam's voice is unreadable. "Mags look at me." When she does, he moves closer so they're basically pressed together from shoulder to hip, joined hands resting on his thigh. His expression is so unabashedly serious, yet admiring that it takes her breath away a little bit. "Maggie," the way he says her real name sends a shiver down her spine, "inside you there's nothing but a fire; to stop the people who hurt you from hurting anyone else, and also literally," he laughed softly, which caused Mags to grin, "they punished you for it, and you've come out wanting to make sure other kids don't have to suffer like that, it's admirable. I could never think you're a monster."

When they kiss, it's not fireworks, it's like a spark inside Mags' chest has been lit, the beginnings of a bonfire.