Little (T.S.T) + (T.D.C)

●25●

Chapter 25:
>Fingers crossed<
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"You're too small to go with us."

"That's--" Darcy interrupted herself with some coughs. "That's discrimination!"

"It's actually called 'not having a uniform that fits you,'" said Gally.

"Well give me one that's too big, then."

"Because that won't be suspicious at all."

Darcy had been arguing with Gally and Fry for what felt like years. And they still wouldn't let her go with them.

"Come on," she begged, "I have the Flare! I could be dead tomorrow!" She cast a quickly glance at Newt, but he didn't seem to have heard her. "The point is, this could be the last time I ever go--" another fit of coughs "--I ever go on one of these 'missions.' Please. I won't blow it."

Fry sighed as he looked at Gally. "She'll probably come with us even if we tell her to stay, so we may aswell just give her the uniform now."

Gally frowned but threw her a uniform anyway. "Fine, but don't screw this up."

■■■

Thomas, Darcy and Teresa walked through the doors of W.I.C.K.E.D. Of course, Thomas and Darcy were clad in a W.I.C.K.E.D uniform, holding large guns. Despite the fact that Darcy was quite a bit shorter than them, she didn't get too many stares.

After walking a few steps in, they came face-to-face with a guard. If the plan was going good, it was Newt. Darcy definitely hoped it was Newt or their plan would already be failing.

The guard (hopefully Newt) nodded his head to the side, a signal for them to follow him. They walked through a corridor, went down some stairs and came to large glass windows that eventually opened to a door. When they reached the open section, another guard walked in and joined them. Gally.

They continued walking until they eventually reached a locked door, but with Teresa's ID, they were able to get in. As they all went to go down the flight of stairs, Gally called out, "Hold on, hold on."

He stopped by some complicated-looking panels on the wall, inspecting them.

"I can get in here," he said, lifting his mask.

"Stay there. Throw me the walkie," said Thomas.

Gally threw him the walkie talkie and proceeded to talk to Fry, asking him how he was doing. Darcy missed Fry's response for Newt had begun coughing. She looked over at him. It was the same cough that she had been producing for the past few days: The crank cough.

Gally got the panel open, working through the wires, and Thomas was on the walkie talkie to Brenda, but Darcy was keeping an eye on Newt. He looked rough. His breathing was ragged and he looked as though he might pass out at any moment. She couldn't see any of his veins, but she knew that if she could, they'd be black. Newt was, for some reason, catching the Flare faster than Darcy.

She wanted to say something to him, reassure him, but she couldn't think of anything comforting.

Hey, just ignore the fact that you have a deadly disease because we're trying to save your friend!