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Boy's sister had asked if he knew a safe place they could hole up in, before what was left of the enforcers caught up to them. He'd nodded, still feeling a little vacant. She led him to her bike [ cool ] and he directed her by pointing down roads over her shoulder. It seemed to be working. Hopefully she wasn't trying to talk to him otherwise.
[ Her helmet's going to be a problem, isn't it? ] She'd had a backup, stashed with the motorcycle. He was just glad the smashed up one was gone.
The building he led her to was abandoned, out of the way, defensible. Not luxurious in the slightest, but she knew she was leaving that behind.
He still didn't remember everything about her. He didn't know where either of them had got their ideas from—that their mother was wrong, that the world she'd created was totalitarian and cruel. It couldn't have been a great upbringing. Not in that family and not if they'd wanted so badly to get away.
He didn't know why she'd become a weapon for the Van Der Koys. Maybe it was like how he became a weapon for the Shaman. Maybe she didn't know either.
He didn't even know what to call her anymore.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, did you hear me?”
[ No. ] He shook his head, then smiled, thinking of the irony. He met her eyes and shook it again.
“You… what do you mean?”
He could try to tell her. He just didn't know how. Or, more like, he was scared to try.
[ Okay. I can do this. ]
Slowly, he touched a finger to his left ear, then to his right. He shook his head again.
“Oh.”
[ Yeah. ]
Maybe that was why he hadn't tried to tell anyone before. That look on her face.
“You don't speak, either.”
He thought for a moment. He opened his mouth, then covered it with his hand.
“I heard you earlier, though,” she said. “While we were fighting. You can make noise.”
[ No need to be pushy. ]
He shrugged. She just kept studying him intently.
[ Fine. ]
He… tried. It wasn't something he normally did, and it didn't feel right. But he swallowed, and strained, and made a short humming sound.
He knew it wasn't right: his mouth, his tongue, the inside of his throat. He didn't need to see the damage.
“Okay, no,” she said, “stop that, I'm sorry. You're okay.”
She leaned in towards him, pressing her shoulder into his.
“I just missed you. But we're both different, now. We're going to have to get to know eachother again.”
[ Yeah, I noticed. ] His eyes caught on the helmet tucked in her arm.
“Oh. You can't read my lips with that on, can you?”
[ That's how it works. ]
She shifted the helmet into her hands, and took a moment to stare down into the visor. Then she lifted it, and brought it up over her head. The black glass tilted towards him, like a void where his sister should be. Then it flashed.
[ THAT'S
WHAT
THIS
IS
FOR ]
Boy felt a surge of affection for her. For his fierce, clever sister. June 27. He grinned.
[ It's great to have you back, sis. ]
[ <3 ]