by Krys Janae
Everything in its place. That familiar vintage sign hung over her mirror…
Danika could see exactly where she was now. She was in her room, not at HQ, but back at the apartment that was once destroyed.
She stepped out onto the cold wooden floor of her bedroom and could hear music coming from the next room. It’d be the first time she would see what was left of her living room since Christophe and his merry men left it to ash and kindling when they came to see her and Charlie, before everything turned to shit.
Once outside of her room, Danika traced her fingers along the wall in the hallway. The wallpaper was ridged, all the bumps felt under her fingertips made audible when she arced her fingers to drag her nails along it. This wall was once scraps and debris, she remembered It still bugged her that they had destroyed it for no reason that she could identify; it seems like that would have made the search for any items more difficult, but these men weren’t the epitome of rationality. The front door, from what she’d recalled, had been blasted inward, ripping it from its hinges and tearing the bolt through the frame. So much glass was on the floor, from vases, mirrors, and picture frames that were now replaced and reattached to the wall. Furniture was broken to pieces, torn to shreds and left in a heap where they once stood as accents to the room.
However, this wasn’t the case anymore. Everything was back together again, returned to its rightful place as Danika looked around. It was just like the first time Charlie was here.
On the kitchen counter, was a large gift box. She tensed, and carefully placed her hands on the lid, not sure what to expect. Inside the box, she found a cardboard record sleeve and a single purple Hyacinth in a bud vase, with a black ribbon tied into a bow on the stem. On the ribbon was written, “Purple hyacinth: sorrow for a wrong committed, deep regret, asking for forgiveness.”
The record player’s volume was low, but she knew the cardboard sleeve belonged to the vinyl as she identified the song that was playing, which was Good Morning Girl on the same LP she played the night she met him. The song itself was halfway through the track list.
“Those gunshots echoed through the town. Oh, Frankie threw his shotgun down.”
The lyrics themselves were eerily fitting, and she felt her blood pressure rising. It pissed her off that one of her favorite records was now tainted with the memory of him.
“So long, girl…”
When she tipped the sleeve, a piece of paper fell to the floor.
Because I owe you.
Please forgive me.
- Your guy for that
Danika looked around, trying to see if, just maybe, he was standing behind her somewhere, but she was all alone. The note was handwritten, in scrawl she could barely read, but the message was clear enough to render her to tears. She had assumed Sloane had paid the bill with Anon to fix her place, but she should have known better, what with Sloane being laid up in the Ward since the op at King’s compound. The note scrunched within her fist.
Forgiveness? He fucking wants…forgiveness?
Someone else might point out that it wasn’t completely his fault, his mind being controlled by Dmitri or Sloane’s demon the majority of the time. That reasoning didn’t influence Danika. All that mattered to her was what he’d done, and that her friends had almost died because of it. She picked up the vase and chucked it across the room where it shattered, the dripping liquid spilling down the wallpaper in chorus to the sound of the glass shards tinkling to the floor. This place was suffocating her with guilt and disgust. She wanted to run. She desperately needed to get out of here.
Where would she go? Sloane was in Aldo’s care, it wouldn’t be right to invade his home without the host present, even though she was sure he wouldn’t mind. No matter what, Danika knew one thing: she couldn’t stay here anymore.
*
A couple days had passed. Instead of sticking around in her apartment, Danika decided it was best to stay at a nearby motel for several reasons. Charlie haunted her, a ghost’s presence living within every single corner of her apartment. Aside from that, her address seemed to be well-known to King and his men. Instead of leaving herself vulnerable to another attack, she’d hightailed it out of there. While not one to run from a fight, Danika wasn’t stupid, and she knew that she needed to heal fully before she could take them on again. Her thoughts swirled. She could sell the place, move away from there, and bunk at HQ if she had to… that is, if it was still standing. Though it was obvious now that the fortress was not invulnerable like she once thought.
Move in to HQ?
No matter how hard she fought it, Danika knew there was a place for her there and a purpose with the Alliance. The promise of protecting the Borderline and working out at DZ’s place would still be upheld no matter where she decided to move.
After recuperating, Danika found she had more questions than answers. She needed to head over to HQ to see what she could find, see if she could get any clues about what had happened to the rest of the crew. Olivia and Frost were with her, and if she survived the blast, she could only hope they had also.
When she arrived, the majority of the building was all in one piece. The underground entrance they used when they returned from ops was accessible, so she slipped through without issue, and headed inside. The halls were clean and clear of anything that might tip her off that this place was broken beyond repair. It was a relief to see it standing at all, but the true relief came when she heard the doors to the central command area open, and all of the familiar faces were there to greet her.
“Heyyy! There she is… Nightingale. How about that?” Frost pointed at her with a huge smile plastered on his face. He rose to greet her, opening his arms to pull her in for a hug.
Danika tilted her head at Frost. It sounded like she had walked right into the group discussion about monikers and identities, a topic she constantly dodged.
Olivia—her neck covered in bruises, but standing—nodded with approval curled on her lips. “Yeah, I think it’s got a good ring to it.”
Danika noticed the hoarseness in the other woman’s voice, but whether it was due to inhaling smoke from the explosions or the compression of her larynx thanks to Charlie, she didn’t know.
“I said no nicknames, Frost,” Danika groaned, hugging him tightly before pulling away. She surrendered a small paper baggie with his favorite breakfast pastry tucked neatly into it.
“Thank you!” he sang, excited at the sight of her offering.
“Place looks good.” Danika commented as she took a good look around at the command hub.
Olivia nodded, “Most of it wasn’t touched by the blast, shaken up and some of the circuits fried—Frost or Callie could probably explain all that jargon—but they fixed up the electronics and Walter came through with some quick repairs on the brig, plus we got a new security system.”
“Walter got blueprints running to renovate some of the older tech running through the base, so we…well, we won’t have to worry much about a breach like that again.” Callie added, setting her tablet on the table beside Danika. She held her arms out, pausing this time instead of full-on throwing herself at Danika as she usually would.
Danika chuckled and held her good arm out to welcome a hug from her. “Good to hear. Say what we will about Walt… but guess we’re lucky to have him.”
“You have a good rest there, Sleeping Beauty?” Frost asked.
Danika leaned back on the edge of a table to where she was partially seated on its surface. “About that… Who brought me home?”
“Erik and Liv. Transported you out once Doc gave the clearance.” Frost answered, sipping at the mug of cold coffee he pulled from his desk.
“Why?” That was bothering Danika the most; why would they move her off-base if she was already where she needed to be?
Exchanging glances, Olivia and Frost turned back to Danika with a shrug.
“Just figured, as much as you avoid sticking around, you’d wouldn’t wanna wake up here.” Frost responded, finally t
earing into the pastry bag and taking a bite.
That was the issue, wasn’t it? Danika mused. Every one of the team, Morgan included, encouraged her to take residence here on base, but she always skated around the offer. It’s what she got for being stubborn, and that stubbornness also put her in clear sight of their enemies. And Charlie. Though she couldn’t blame them for that, only Sloane had seen the damage up close.
“What happened with the kids?”
Frost filled her in on what had happened in her absence, and then cleared his throat, “And you know, everyone needs a codename, sweetie, and you’re the only one without, so far.” Leave it up to him to try and steer the conversation back around to the topic she wanted to leave untouched. “Nightingale.”
Nightingale. It could be worse. Not to mention, it carried sentiment. Carter granted her that name when they first formed their team because it suited her from the Turning. It was a good fit for her powers anyway, especially when it was in its full form. After a moment, she chuckled. “How about…I’ll give it some thought?”
“That’s not a no.” Callista chimed in.
“Works for me!” Frost exclaimed with pure excitement and high-fived her, just before taking a chunk out of the Danish and pushing the rest of it into the bag.
“Good God, now we’re seriously just a pair of tights shy of Morgan’s super-team fantasy.” Danika rolled her eyes.
Olivia coughed a bit as she laughed, since Danika always had her way of mocking their gang as a band of superheroes, but they all knew on some level there was some truth to it. Olivia sipped at her coffee and leaned back into her chair across the table from Frost. “Dani… Speaking of, you should go see him. He woke up a few days ago.”
The dread felt like a weight had dropped, heavy in her stomach. She was not prepared to face Morgan. Not yet. The thought of almost losing the last remainder of her family, and the guilt that he’d taken the shot that was meant for her was too much for her to face.
She knew she owed it to her uncle to at least stop in for a few minutes to say hello and that she was alive, as much as she wanted to crawl into a hole. “I’ll be right back.”
“Alright, Nightingale.” Frost winked as he tilted his chair back to look up at her.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” She scowled at Frost, but that evolved into a smile, tight lipped, almost a smirk. She patted his cold shoulder and made her exit.
Danika trailed her hand on the wall like she always did as she wandered away from the conference room toward the Ward. Even now, it was difficult to push out the thoughts of Charles Matthews, because it had only been a couple of months since she’d met him, and it only took one day for all of the rapport they’d built in that short time to come tumbling down. When she hit a nick in the paint along the wall, she remembered…
1 Month Ago…
“Rookie?” Charlie raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “Hey, Erik’s no joke.”
Danika didn’t mean to echo the scene that had occurred from before, but when it came out, it seemed to flow naturally with Charlie. “Yeah, he was kicking your ass pretty good.”
“Just wait. Maybe a bit more training with him, and I’ll spar with you.”
1 Week Ago…
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” She said to him, as they stood in her living room, just before Dmitri’s attack and interruption.
Danika could still feel the softness of his lips as he kissed her…
The door was open, so she leaned into the frame and folded her arms, rubbing her eyes as if that would scrub the memories from her mind. She could hear the machine beeping in the distance, unbarred by any wall or insulation like in the suite in which she’d been placed. The damage done by the explosions had ruined a lot of the electrical resources in the building, but Frost, Callie, and Walter managed to keep it all wired with tape and glue for now, to keep Morgan stable. To Danika, that’s all that mattered.
Danika looked to the floor, composing herself, until she heard the squeak of wheels under a rolling chair as it moved, and the ancient blind man pulled back the drape. “Evenin’ Doc.”
Aldo turned his head toward her with a smile on his face. “And the Nightingale sings…”
Danika could hardly find it in her to smile, so she settled for a small grin as it tugged at the corner of her lips. “Is Frost already spreading that around?”
“Mass text. Erik read it to me before he stepped out.” Aldo propped his hands atop of the armrests and leaned back in his seat, eliciting a whine of protest of the old chair.
“God,” she groaned.
“No God, just me.” Aldo laughed.
“Places looks great.” Danika sounded impressed, but Aldo scoffed.
“Like hell it does.” He shook his head. “Walter had a shitfit about one of the walls in his lab getting knocked down, but I told him as long as we have power and room for the Major, it’ll be just fine.”
Danika nodded. “Yep, sounds like Walter.”
“Well maybe you should thank him and the others for keeping him alive. If we’d have lost power in here…” He shook his head and gestured toward the bed Morgan was resting, bandaged and hooked to a handful of tubes and wires.
Her lip trembled and her vision became foggy at the sight. “Yep.”
Morgan was one of the strongest people she’d ever known, and not just by ability. He’d endured several shots, hits, breaks—and that was just physically speaking. As the Director of this team, new and old, he’d had many things happen that would be mentally trying too, but he’d made it through. Danika’s heart ached at the thought that she didn’t entirely help the situation either. Her pain-in-the-ass attitude came often, and was almost always aimed at her uncle; that just piled onto the mountain of shame she already felt.
“H-how’s Koa?” She asked, looking at the other suite where he was being kept.
“About the same as the Major. Bullet went clear through, and he’ll live. He’s not built like Morgan and doesn’t have your family’s healing, so who knows when he’ll wake up. He’s a tough kid, so I’m sure he will.” Aldo lowered his head out of sympathy and pity for them.
“What?” She asked.
“Two men built like mountains, taken down so easily by the weapons of man. The bigger they are—”
“The harder they fall. Yeah,” Danika finished his sentence. She hated that damn cliché but there was truth to it when it came to Morgan and Koa.
“Alright old man, I’m going to leave you two alone.” Aldo addressed Morgan, grabbing his walking stick from its resting place against the bed, and he rose from his seat. He tapped the bottom of the bed twice with the cane before heading toward the exit. He was shoulder to shoulder with Danika when he leaned in and placed a winkled hand on her arm. “Oh, and if I catch you without your sling again, I’ll tell everyone in here you cried.”
“You wouldn’t.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Like a little baby,” Aldo teased.
Danika laughed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Gee. Thanks Doc.”
“Anytime, kiddo.” He patted her on the shoulder as one last departing consolation, and finally the Carlisles were alone.
Her stomach was in knots. Danika had to work her courage up just to walk closer because she’d been so afraid of this very moment, until she found a little comfort in the best way she knew how. The cigarette dangled by the tip between her lips as she kissed the end of it with her lighter. She pulled a drag from it and slipped the lighter back into her pocket, feeling the soothing warmth of it calming her nerves that were so tightly wound.
“I’m in here dying and you have the nerve to light that shit in here?”
Danika instantly yanked the cigarette from her lips and crushed it in her hand, tossing it into the waste bin nearby when she knew it was completely out.
Morgan clicked his tongue. “Damn.”
“What?”
“And I was actually going to ask you for some of that.” Morgan managed
a chuckle but only barely as he coughed, clearing his lungs from the liquid buildup in his chest. The bandages were blotted with his blood, seeping through from the gaping holes Franco’s bullets left in him.
“No. It’s bad for you.” Danika’s conflicting emotions were displayed; she laughed but her smile settled beneath the mix of happy and mournful tears. Once at his side, she picked up his hand, and squeezed his palm, trying not to cause him any discomfort. “Hi…”
“Hi…” Morgan replied with a lazy smile.
“I’m so sorry.” The waterworks came on and they wouldn’t stop. She hadn’t had a nice, long, healthy cry in a long time, so this was well overdue. He’d been recovering quite well but the sight of him under his bloody wraps made her feel awful inside.
“Hey, why are you sorry, kid? This isn’t your fault.”
“Sure as hell feels like it.” She sniffled.
“I’m gonna get better…”
“Promise?” Danika looked at him, hopeful.
“I can’t do that. But I can say everything has a…”
“…purpose and a place. And there’s a reason for everything.” She nodded, more inspirational one-liners from the book of clichés she was sure her family had written once upon a time. She excused the use of this one, however, because of its sentiment. Morgan told that to her the day her family were dispersed and effectively destroyed after the Turning, then again on the day she lost Carter. Even though her uncle was the one who had stood beside her through those times, she’d pushed him away. She was paying for that now. “I know. Some old, wise man told me that once.”
“Emphasis on the old, right?” He shifted, grunting in pain as he did, pulling himself up on the back of his bed. His skin had an unusual pallor, pale and almost yellowish, with an almost gray gloss over his eyes. It was probably his Powered form peeking through as he recovered.
“I didn’t say it. Aldo did though.”
“Figures.” He smiled, but as it faded off, Morgan’s eyes held a gloom over them that made her worry.