Midnight

I didn't have any doubts otherwise, but Starla and Midnight knocked it out of the park with their combined efforts making enchiladas tonight. I went back for more than I should have, and the feeling of minor discomfort from an overfull stomach is making me aware of that fact.

It's only fair that I do the dishes after being a spectator for much of the cooking process. But that's no big deal – aside from the pans the enchiladas were baked in. We should have lined them with foil or cooking spray; as it stands now, I think I'm better off letting them soak overnight than trying to scrub them clean to get all the baked-on bits out of there.

"That was more fun than I expected, Starla. Thanks," Midnight reiterates for the third or fourth time as she hands me the next dirty plate.

Still sitting on a barstool on the opposite side of the kitchen island, Starla has to chuckle once again at Midnight's comment. "No problem – we'll do it again tomorrow with another recipe if you want," she suggests. "I have to ask... were you expecting it to be difficult? You seemed a bit nervous when we started."

"I dunno if I would say I was nervous..." Midnight trails off, stalling to think up a better term. "I just didn't want to look like an idiot. All of that was new to me."

"Oh heck, Middie, you showed and explained a lot to me today that I still didn't fully understand. I feel like I was more out of my element today than you were this evening – and you were patient with me. Why should I have been any different?"

"I know that, but it's still a feeling that's just there with a new experience, y'know?"

"Your only idiot comment was trying not to *ahem* 'corner cut like I do' getting the packaging open," I chime in with an overdue, lighthearted jab.

"Should have expected your tongue to get the best of you sooner or later," Midnight grumbles, giving me the stinkeye. "In my defense, it really didn't seem like the correct method."

"Eating raw meat out of the wrapper doesn't seem right, but you have no qualms about doing that."

"Shut up," she mutters back.

"I have to give you a hard time – don't want you feeling deprived," I remind her as she hands off the last plate. "Really though – dinner was great ladies. You both did a damn fine job."

"Thank you, John." While Starla is happy to accept the compliment, Midnight's demeanor turns a bit colder. She remains mum while looking elsewhere, suddenly tensed up.

"That was plural, Midnight. 'Ladies' includes you."

"I know – and I also know what the end of dinner means."

Confusion wracks my brain for a brief moment before I remember our deal – dinner first, then the discussion. A talk about what had Midnight deep in thought over the course of the day. The festive atmosphere of the evening that helped to push that thought away now comes crashing down.

Just by her body language, I can tell getting Midnight to spill what's on her mind will be like pulling teeth. Just because she agreed to it, doesn't mean she will be readily forthcoming.

"Midnight had a flashback to her time in the lab when they basically electrocuted her, and I think that stirred something else up, if that wasn't bad enough," Starla blurts out.

"STARLA!" Midnight belts in outrage as she scowls. "What the fuck?!"

"Sorry, but I think you need a boost to get things started off. You promised both of us and like I said – I'm holding you to it," Starla shoots back, turning up her nose in defiance of Midnight's angry outburst. "I didn't share any further specifics – that's for you to fill in."

"Just the general overview is worrying – Midnight?" In a way, I'm not sure how straight Starla's summarization truly is – what Midnight has shared with me was awful, but not outright torture. Did she repress worse trauma?

"Just... why don't we sit down first," Midnight mumbles, pulling back the reins on her temper for the time being as she gestures to the couch.

I nod my approval to the idea as I pull the drain on the sink and dry my hands off. Midnight pads over to the couch and takes a seat in the middle, while Starla slips off her barstool and takes up a seat beside Midnight, on the closest end to the kitchen.

It leaves my normal spot on the far end free – though I do sit closer to Midnight than I do my armrest. But I draw the line there, rather than throw my arm around her. "We'll, here we all are," I announce after a short spell of silence with everyone situated in relative comfort.

Midnight's eyes are locked straight ahead – a rather unsettling appearance when combined with how tense her whole form looks as she sits up straight and stiff. I start to think of something else to say in order to spur Midnight along – but she finally emits a deep exhale and closes her eyes. "Yes, I had a recollection of a memory from the lab that I had forgotten – I probably forgot it on purpose."

Beyond Midnight's form as she begins, I spy Starla slump just a bit as her ears sag. Midnight takes note of the shift as well, reaching over with a hoof and poking at her. "Hey, not blaming you. Wasn't your fault."

"I know – but my question about how you were before having your levitation ability was what spurred you to remember, wasn't it?" Star protests.

"You couldn't have known something like that would drag up old memories I didn't know existed in the first place. So let that go."

Starla gives Midnight a half-hearted grin before nodding her head.

"So how does the electromagnetic ability connect with you being electrocuted? They hook it up wrong the first time?" I ask, trying to make sense of the connection on my own.

"Well, that's really not— yes, that was an unpleasant memory, but it brought some other things with it that were more important. I'm not keen to really run through that memory again, to be honest. I'm fine."

"Still part of what you said you were going to discuss with us tonight – and you don't need to be bottling it up," I remind her. "And even if you're 'fine', I hear so much as a sniffle or a voice crack from you, you're getting hugged."

"Won't happen, but duly noted," she responds, taking a deep breath. "The 'electrocution' that Starla mentioned is the memory of when they first put the electromagnetic device in my head. They had to... charge it up."

"Like... what, with a generator or something?"

"Wow, your critical thinking skills are impeccable. Give yourself a pat on the back," Midnight sasses.

"Shut up. It disgusts me to even think about. I can't even imagine what it—"

"Yes, yes. Hurt like hell, very good," Midnight interrupts, impatient with my focus on the details. "That bit of it doesn't bother me – it's what I realize now looking back on it that is sticking with me right now. Granted, I was caught up in my own bitterness, the pain, and the arrogance I used to help me fight through that hellish shithole – but I ignored any attempts at someone showing concern for me. A genuine bit of sympathy, I think."

"Running bolts of lightning through you is a very strange show of concern, Mid," I counter, finding her claim amongst this summarization both nonsensical and rather disturbing.

A dark feathered wing slaps me in the back of my head for the effort. "As I said, I didn't notice the little nuance until now, looking beyond the misery and anger that used to drive me at that point in time," Midnight reiterates with slight irritation in her voice.

"That just sounds so... unhealthy," Starla comments, grimacing at her own words. "I guess you had to take what you could to keep fighting, but..."

"Yes – but can I at least finish my thoughts on this before anyone butts in again?" Midnight grumbles. "I get you're both trying to be supportive or whatever, but it's hard enough trying to articulate my thoughts into something coherent without being interrupted."

"Sorry," both Starla and I speak in chorus.

"I know what I'm saying sounds bizarre, and it's why I was... reflecting on what I do remember. Other than that new memory," Midnight resumes, looking down at the couch. "The boss – well, the head of my project, he was a constant, both in presence and general shitty attitude. But he had assistants, aides, whatever you want to call them – he treated them about as badly as me, so he went through a lot of em. At least until the last one."

Midnight halts her spiel there, eyes remaining focused on the cushion underneath her. After the reprimand we received, Starla and I are reluctant to speak up again – but the uncomfortable silence that lingers for what feels like minutes starts to gnaw at me.

"What made this last one stand out to you? Just because he stayed the longest?"

"Exactly what I said – he showed an ounce of sympathy. Everyone hated the boss, I heard them bitch about him in passing almost constantly. But they didn't look at me any differently than he did – a thing, an experiment, a way to progress science. But Johnson—"

"Wait, you remember his name, too?"

"No, I pulled a name out of my ass for shits and giggles," Midnight berates me, raising her head in order to serve me a proper glare to go with it. "Sit there in your corner and be quiet, dumbass."

"So this Johnson guy – did he try helping you somehow? I don't really understand," Starla admits, treading lightly to avoid Midnight's ire like I just did.

"The memory that brought him back – he spoke up and voiced some concerns. About pain that I was dealing with from the prior surgery, and concern about the pace of the project – that they were going too fast," Midnight explains, regaining her calm and reserved tone once again as she paints the picture for us. "There was no one else that was ever – I was just a thing, a disposable test project. No one had ever voiced any concern about how I was faring."

"Can I say something again? No funny business, just something that bothers me about it," I speak up despite my track record thus far.

Midnight slowly turns her head back to face me, her expression stone cold as those eyes bore through me. But nevertheless, she nods her approval for me to proceed – probably at my own risk.

"So – if this was the first time it seemed like anyone cared... well, didn't that stick out to you at the time? Or did you pass it off as a feint to get you more agreeable during this whole mess?"

"I don't really know – at least, I don't know my thoughts on it at the time. Probably felt how you just described it – with how I had been treated up to that point, I guess I just assumed the worst in everyone. For the most part, I was right in my convictions, since some of the new hires would be a bit meek those first few weeks. Didn't last long before they were indoctrinated into the company mindset."

"But what does it mean to you?" Starla questions. "That was the past, and I guess it's interesting to note maybe – maybe there was one small light in that dark place... but how does that affect you now? Why did you have to think about it today?"

"Even though I don't know if he really was genuine, There's always been some questions about how I escaped. Certain things that happened in that time period. If he was genuine and I'm leaning in that direction – maybe I had some help in getting out that I never appreciated until now."

Starla and I exchange glances as Midnight wraps up her explanation. Her raised brow and contorted lips share my sentiment on Midnight's take – overwhelming skepticism combined with the feeling that I still don't fully grasp her point in regard to why such history needs to be dragged back up from the depths.

But Starla just asked that question and got nowhere with it. At this point, we're playing by Midnight's rules – meaning for any closure or conclusion to be had, Star and I are better off fueling her drive forward.

She was thinking about this all day – but maybe she still doesn't have a concrete answer. Sure seems that way at this point in time.

"I don't really know the whole deal on your escape. It's something we've never touched on that I can remember, and I saw no reason to push it," I say, leaning toward Midnight. "Care to help me understand?"

"I've told Starla a bit – I guess that's the only time I've ever brought it up with anyone period," Midnight concedes. "My first sign that it was time to get out of there was someone 'carelessly' dropping a document in my room outlining the imminent termination of my project. Didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out where that would leave me. From there, I started figuring out how to fuck with the lock on my cell. Trying to learn how it worked, how to manipulate the internals and unlock it from the inside."

"Really? That's all they entrusted your captivity to? A simple lock?" I ask, unable to mask my skepticism.

"When you don't show your whole hand, people take you for granted," Midnight quips, undeterred by my comment or tone. "Just because they wanted to test what I could do with what they so 'graciously' gave me, doesn't mean I was going to show them everything. Or mention I was challenging my limits on my own time."

"So you had some thought of getting.out before then? Before even the document?"

Midnight fidgets at Starla's inquiry, averting her gaze to the couch just as she did earlier. "I guess there was always that thought, but it's complicated," she mumbles. "First and foremost, I just wanted to keep them all dangling on a string, showing only just enough of what I could do, just to be a bitch. But... well, the lab sucked. But I knew what was in store there, and I was still alive. The outside – I had ideas of it from a couple of chips in my head. To venture out – that was the great unknown. Being left with no choice but to pick the unknown over certain death was the catalyst to move, I suppose."

"It probably didn't help if you were on tranquilizers or painkillers, either, with everything being done to you," Starla adds in a rather forlorn voice. "I know I was... a lot hazier in the earlier memories than towards the end. Teddy started cutting down the doses I think – maybe that happened with you too, if you really think someone helped you get out. But There's no way to tell, and it's kind of a moot point now, isn't it?"

"It is. But I want to know for sure. I want to find him."

"What?!"

"Mid, are you fucking high?!"

While Starla's exclamation is more graceful, both of us gawk at Midnight from either side with dumbfounded expression at Middie's idea. Somehow, she doesn't see the issue here, as her head whips back and forth between us in mild shock. "I want to know the whole story!" she barks. "Now There's this big question mark hanging over – well, a good chunk of my time in the lab. What if he kept speaking up like Teddy did for Starla to keep my project going? What if I really had someone on the inside that I never acknowledged?"

"Midnight, it sounds like it might be a bit positive to look back and consider maybe not everyone was so bad – but trying to find someone involved in your case who may or may not have been an ally sounds downright dangerous."

Midnight looks about ready to protest, but I throw my own hat in the ring before she can utter a syllable. "Even if you somehow find this guy aside from an asinine idea like staking out the building you think you came from, what do you do if you meet him and find out you were wrong? You're throwing yourself back into the fire and throwing away everything you've worked for. And for what?"

"... I guess I just really want some answers on my past," Midnight mumbles.

"You'll never have all the answers in life. And some things are better off left unanswered," I respond, putting my arm around her and tugging her closer to me.

"Yeah, I guess. It sounds a lot less important and a lot crazier once I said it out loud. Maybe I gave it too much thought today."

"I have a better understanding of my past, but it's far from complete," Starla adds. "Even so, it doesn't have any effect on me now, and it shouldn't for you either – whether you have the full story or not."

Midnight nods, though her lack of eye contact is enough of a concern for me to give her another good squeeze. It draws those vibrant eyes up.to meet with mine again. "What?"

"Promise me you aren't thinking up some hare-brained scheme to go scouting for this mystery man in the middle of the night."

"I won't do that. It was never a thought to begin with. Not a fleshed-out one, anyway. Again, now that I'm sharing it rather than just me obsessing over the details – yeah, maybe I should have spoken earlier."

"Good," I reply with relief, patting her side and freeing her from my embrace. "Then with that out of the way... what's up next for tonight?"