Lab Rat: Absolved

2.2: In Which They Arrive

         "What is this place?"

         The broken building stood, abandoned, amongst a thick blanket of trees. Faded graffiti molds into worn brick. It had to be around two or three stories high; windows – more broken and boarded back up than not – lined the top half of the structure; Metal double doors with a concrete ramp were the only opening on the bottom visible from where 254 observed.

         Hippy's voice appears next to him. "Home."

         Huh.

         He's not sure how he feels about it. Figures it can't be much worse than his previous tenancy.

         Guess it'll do.

         The Beast is quiet as he observes their new nest. 254 almost rolls his eyes because even without feeling it, he just knows what the animal is thinking:

         It's not good enough for mate.

         Sorry, bud, 254 sighs, don't think we'll be able to get a place that's good enough for our girl any time soon.

          The sound of Hippy's boots crunching against fallen leafs as he rounds the van snaps 254 out of his inner conversation. He waits until his...brother...disappears to the front of the vehicle and greets his other two friends before he steps back inside of the van, where his girl land fast asleep on the bench.

          Ah.

         Just where I left you.

         He kneels next to her. Watches her for a moment. Her hands lay palm to palm underneath her cheek, taking over the job of pillow his thigh had moments ago. She looked mostly peaceful but the creases on her forehead were hard for him to miss.

        The Beast rumbles happily at the sight of his mate, a triad of emotions swirling his insides; comfort, warmth and the sense of home.

        254 breathes a soundless laugh out of his nose; his lips curling into a soft smile.

        We got her back, he thinks to both himself and his other half.

        Never again, The Beast growls. Safe. With us. Always.

       He nods firmly. "Damn fucking right."

       Leaning closer, he brings his thumb up to her face and runs it down her cheek. "Baby, wake up."

       Her nose scrunches and her first reaction is to push him away. Her hand lands on his shoulder lightly. So he does it again, and isn't disappointed.

       Aw, he grins inwardly, she's adora- ouch! This time, the hand finds his face.

       "'M sleepin'. Shh," she mumbles, eyes remaining closed.

        "Bwaby," he laughs behind her palm.

        Her response is a small noise of protest.

       So stubborn, he muses fondly.

       Alright, baby.

      We'll do it your way.

      Picking her up is easy. He thinks about how he was holding her like this not too long ago after ravishing her against the wall of the Lab before they escaped and grips her tighter. They were free now.

        He rounds the van until he finds the others. They stop talking when they spot him.

        The girl, Flytrap, with punk short, spiky hair and a mole on her cheek, eyes him strangely. Her gaze darts between him and 391 curled up in his arms, her expression making him wonder if she had a bad taste in her mouth.