Gravity Rises (S3)

AI: Part Twelve

Pacifica was almost asleep when the commotion started. It was late, and her evening had already been interrupted by the supernatural creatures coming to wreak havoc on the guards around the Museum. Pacifica had listened to the fighting, secretly rooting for the supernatural creatures and trying to deny it to herself. Lincoln had gone out to watch and had returned with a report: No one seemed badly hurt, and the supernatural creatures had won. They were the ones guarding the Museum now.

Pacifica had forced down a relieved smile.

Things were so confusing. It'd only gotten worse since Thursday, when Ford had talked to her about joining the Cipher Wheel. Shadow Pacifica stayed by Pacifica at all times, trying to convince her to change sides. Her tone and words had gotten considerably kinder, because Pacifica was actually listening to her now.

That scared her. She didn't want to listen to Shadow Pacifica. But slowly, the shade's logic started to make sense. Pacifica was a bad person, but there was hope for her if she joined the Cipher Wheel. If she helped save the town — the whole multiverse, even — she could get a second chance.

She hadn't yet admitted to anyone that she was — probably — ready to join them. Her stubbornness still had a hold on her. But she had helped Lincoln by telling Ford and the others what he was saying. She'd acted as interpreter for conversations between Lincoln and Gregory Corduroy, who agreed yesterday to act as a vessel for Lincoln — if Gideon could help them. Lincoln had already tried possessing Greg on his own, but it hadn't worked. Even though Greg was willing, his spirit had an understandably firm hold on his body.

The point was, even if Pacifica refused to form the Cipher Wheel, she was already helping with it in another way. Why not go all in? The end result of the Cipher Wheel — going back to earth, staying with Lincoln — was a lot better than the end result of Bill's plan. Even if Pacifica didn't think she would die at Bill's command — and she could no longer deny that — she'd realized she didn't really want to live in another dimension in the first place. Especially if it was anything like Fiddleford described.

As the sound outside grew, Pacifica rolled over and put her pillow over her head. Not again. It was almost midnight; couldn't a girl get some sleep around here?

Waddles snuffled as Pacifica shifted. The pig had taken to sleeping on the air mattress with Pacifica. It was annoying — the air mattress deflated overnight with him there, given the added weight — but it was also. . . comforting. Pacifica had so far resisted patting him on the head or anything affectionate like that, but she'd given up trying to chase him away. So here he was.

"Hey, listen to that," Shadow Pacifica said. She'd been quiet since the earlier battle, and Pacifica groaned at the sound of her voice. "No, Pacifica, really, listen. It sounds like cheering." She gasped. "Is Mabel back?"

Pacifica sat bolt upright. Oh, no.

Lincoln floated through the wall, his spirit glowing softly in the darkness. "Mabel's back," he told Pacifica carefully. "And Gideon."

Pacifica's heart thumped in her chest. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no."

"You don't have to go to her right away," Shadow Pacifica assured her. "You can wait until tomorrow. But you'd better start thinking about how you're going to apologize."

Lincoln came closer to Pacifica. "What's wrong?" he asked. He sounded confused, but he kept his voice mild.

"I—" How to explain to Lincoln? Did she want to?

"You can tell me," Lincoln said.

If she could talk to anyone, it was Lincoln. She'd already told him about Shadow Pacifica and how she had masqueraded as Spirit Mabel. She'd told him some of the things Shadow Pacifica said: how Pacifica was a bad person, and how Mabel was never evil to begin with, and all that. Lincoln had listened and been kind to her.