Into The Black

EIGHTEEN

A/N: it appears I have managed to go over a month without uploading. . . The whole weekly thing does not appear to be my strong suit. But I am working on another story so hopefully between the two I should be abel to upland something every two weeks at least. ITB is so close to being done though!

Buttercup had stared at Imagine and slowly dots started to connect themselves. The cannula, the amount of time Imagine had been at the 'hospital', everything clicked together.

"Cancer?" She whispered. Imagine nodded and turned to Nebula.

"Will you please inform Nurse Becker that I need to use a bathroom?" Nebula nodded and stood up brushing granola crumbs off her suit before walking away.

"You understand what they're trying to do here, right?" Butter cup nodded slowly.

"They can't do it for me. It's happened before, six times since I arrived just about three years ago." Buttercup's throat felt like it had closed up. Imagine had been in the hospital for two years, trying to beat cancer. Buttercup's leg had been healed in a matter of months. How many people had been through here? Been in the same white-cube rooms?

The nurse with orange hair, Nurse Becker, had made her way through the other patients to Imagine and Buttercup.

"Our evacuation time will be up in five minutes, dear. Can you hold it until then?"

"I think so." Imagine paused, still holding the nurse's gaze. "Why did we have to evacuate?" Nurse Becker's face pinched up, and she broke away from Imagine's stare. Nebula sat back down beside Imagine and held a pillow against her chest. Buttercup tried to read her expression but her gaze was clouded over.

"An unstable patient broke his bindings while being prepped for transport."

"Which one?" Nurse Becker shook her head, and Nebula squeezed the pillow tighter.

"Which one?" Imagine repeated her question offer a few moments of silence. Buttercup heard an edge to her voice and she turned to look at her. Imagine's eyes were ablaze, Buttercup recognized the anger and fear the light her father's eyes when he ran out of liquor. She shivered and turned back to the nurse, silently begging her to say something, anything, to get Imagine's calm back.

"I can't tell you Imagine. You know I can't." Her words were full of regret. "But I promise you, it wasn't him, it wasn't Wyatt." The name as new to Buttercup, but the instant relief that filled Imagine's face was good enough for her. She was going to ask the nurse what she meant by being prepped for transport but suddenly the alarm started going off again. It bounced around the room in an headache inducing echo. The noise was follow by a voice.

"This is the end of our evacuation please follow your provided nurse to the nearest exit." Nurse Becker straightened and motioned for everyone to follow her to the tube hey had entered through. She unlatched it and started through. Slowly patients followed suit until Imagine and Buttercup were the only ones left. Buttercup stood near the entrance of the tube and watched as a boy in a blue jumpsuit crawled out of view. She looked over her shoulder to see that Imagine was still seated and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Who's Wyatt?" The words forced through Buttercups teeth and off her tongue without warning. Imagine's head swivelled toward her and she peered out from her bangs, eyes brimming with tears.

"He's my brother." Imagine rose abruptly and pushed past Buttercup. She climbed into the tube and shuffled along it. Buttercup stood still as her brain pumped with information. She looked at the ceiling and suddenly a realization punched her in the face. The glass wasn't dark, it was completely dark beyond the glass. They were in a pit of inky blackness.

*******

Imagine wasn't at group the next day. The man in the orange jumpsuit was though. He told Buttercup that he had wrote a poem for her, that he did it for all new patients. A nurse gave her the slip of paper it was written on. While Today spoke Buttercup read the poem, it was titled Rapunzel's Flower

Young and naive

Deadly and blonde

Pretty eyes

Broken smile

Hair of a princess

Name of a flower

Call home young one

They are alone

Buttercup wasn't sure she understood the poem. Poetry was not something she had learned from her sister or father. She thought it was something Shellie would like. She looked up at the man and he turned his head towards her. She tried to smile, hoping she looked thankful. He smiled back, his eyes full of joy.

Today called Buttercups number and informed her she had been paged by a doctor. Chrystal hurried into the room and told Buttercup that is was urgent, and she really must try to hurry.