Sandstorm {Discontinued}{Rewritten}

20. Late Night Talks

Deserey couldn't sleep. The Legends had decided to park the ship in the Temporal Zone, banking on getting some rest before heading into the '80s, since apparently it was nearing one in the morning back in Central City. (Dez wasn't really sure why they decided to go by Central's time frame or even why the time mattered considering they were floating outside of it, but she was exhausted so she decided not to question it too much.)

She had entered her room, fully intent on getting some shut eye, but the moment her head hit the pillow she began tossing and turning. There were so many thoughts running through her head. The images that Rip had showed everyone that first night he gathered them on that roof swirled in her mind, accompanied by the almost disastrous Central City that would have resulted from Ray accidentally losing that piece of his suit.

That first fight with Chronos in the ‘70s crawled it’s way into her head, followed by the big battle at the auction and the fight at the asylum. Her head was reeling, now that she had a moment to stop and think about it all. It had been cool in the moment, if not a bit terrifying. But now, laying there in her dark room, the gravity of the situation finally settled in. She could have died. They all could have died. Kendra had almost been raped, and she would have been, too, if Dez hadn’t gotten there with Rip and Sara.

Ray had almost accidently caused World War III prematurely, and Deserey had been shot in the gut and left to bleed out. (Was it bad that that last one was the least of her concerns?) In the future millions, maybe billions, of people would die because of Vandal Savage; but the – for lack of a better word – Legends had failed to get Savage both times they’d gone after him so far. If anything they only escalated the issue and hurt themselves in the process. Were they really cut out for this? Those people… Those poor innocent people… They deserved better heroes…

Deserey tossed her blanket off to the side, growling in frustration. She wished her mind would just shut up for once. It was hard enough to sleep on a normal day, never mind after almost getting murdered and ruining everyone’s lives. (Literally.)

“You seem to be having trouble sleeping, Miss Dunet,” Gideon piped up, like Deserey didn’t already know that. “Would you like me to prescribe you a sedative?”

It was a tempting idea, Dez had to admit. She belatedly wondered how much of the drug she’d be able to take before it killed her and if Gideon would be willing to give her that much. Shaking her head, Deserey decided against it. Rip would probably have ordered her against it anyway. (And she really didn’t want to risk worrying any of the four people who knew her dark secret anymore than she had to. It was a miracle they even let her sleep in her room alone.)

So, Deserey turned her thoughts elsewhere. To the pronouns of their AI friend. She…

It seemed so natural to say, and yet Dez still had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea. Maybe it was just something to focus on, something better than the misfortunate future they were trying to stop, better than the suicidal thoughts swimming around in her head, like her mind was some kind of pool party.

From the knowledge her kids had shared with her (and her own experiences) Dez knew just how important pronouns could be. So, why then was it so natural for her – of all people – to just assume Gideon would use female pronouns? It had been bothering her since she came to in that drowsy state after the AI had healed her wound. She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much (especially since everyone else just went with the female pronouns as well), but Deserey knew it was, even if Gideon was just a machine.

“No,” Deserey said after a moment of contemplation. “But, uh, I do have a question…”

“Of course,” Gideon said.