𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.

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𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
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Cold, calculating eyes watched Dr. Jiménez from the second he stepped into the room. Marcelo shivered almost unnoticeably, insecure if his short display of fear was too loud, he wondered if he hid it well enough.

"The new mortician. Where did you get them from?" Ruvik rasped out, so commanding it wasn't even a question.

"Not even a good morning? I thought your parents taught you manners, Ruvik" Jiménez could feel the shift in the atmosphere, that had remained neutral until the mention of Ruben's parents. He felt Ruvik's gaze drilling holes into his skull, but he had shaken off his fears minutes ago; he had MOBIUS on his side.

"Answer my question" Ruvik pressed on, still as a corpse and half obscured by the multiple tubes and cables of the STEM machine; almost a ghost in Marcelo's eyes.

Jiménez lifted his hands, satisfying Ruben with his defeat. "Alright. Christ, you make it sound like I kidnapped the kid from somewhere. I needed a new one since what you did with Henderson" he shot him a nasty glance and shrugged his coat on "They applied, and had an impressive resume, including an internship somewhere named McLain Private Clinic."

Ruben frowned. He couldn't fathom how someone could leave such a promising position to come to this hellhole where he was stuck until he finished his research. So he figured that you, much like him, definitely had some ulterior motives.

"Why are they here?" He was a little bit more content with the information he just got, but that didn't keep him from asking more

"I don't know" Marcelo responded, quite annoyed "but if you ask me, they make a fine addition to our team"

He moved his hand towards the lever that switched on the machine. With a final hum of acknowledgement, he pulled the lever down, that deep, ominous rumbling fueling his life. Soon he'd make his system perfect, soon he'd make a perfect, better life, soon he'd see her, lucid and seething with life again. He grew impatient when he heard Leslie's familiar voice coming from the hallway, muffled and almost too far away to hear. It was always the same words, «not safe, not safe, not safe...» and everytime he realized that the poor, disturbed young man was aware and more right than one could think.

Still he grew curious of you.

At first he thought it was because maybe he thought of you fit for testing on his machine. But soon he realized.

He remembered you from a calmer past, and maybe you had forgotten him, but he definitely had not. He couldn't miss that crooked smile anywhere, or the passion in your eyes, or that secure, severe softness in your voice, the curiosity that often got you in trouble. For him you'd always been an almost friend, a 'one who got away', he never expected you to return to his life so many years later.

And so he's been watching, and listening. The walls weren't thin but he still could hear you work, talk to the ones you prepared, swear when things went wrong, sing cheery and childish songs. He heard you come out at the same time every day, and come back whistling like you hadn't been gone for long, and your playful bickering with Hermila, and the questions you had about an unknown lost friend. And it was so long ago that he knew few things about you, but he still grew close to the idea of someone understanding him, like you had done years ago.

His train of thought was interrupted by Jiménez, grunting towards him.

"Subject is here. Let's begin"

⠀⠀

Eleanor was always the wilder of you both. You were more observant, careful and methodic with your actions, yet somehow found the company of someone so spontaneous rather soothing, valuable even.

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