Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Mark!" He heard her voice cutting through the chaos around him, the men shouting at him, the hands forcing him down to the ground.

"Helly!" He was still struggling against his restraints, desperate to break free and take off down the corridors again but he needed to follow her voice, to take her hand and run until their lungs burned and their legs gave out. Again. Let the lights flash red and their feet pound the corridor once more.

More hands were on him now and try as he might his shoulders were forced to the floor. He swung his head around to find her. It was the only thing he could still move.

There were men everywhere, all in the same matching uniform, a Lumon logo embroidered onto their jackets. They'd entered with guns, as if they'd thought that would get the innies in line but the innies knew better; while their lives didn't mean anything to Lumon they knew the lives of their outies did. Or at least that's what they'd gambled on. They'd rolled that dice on that one and won.

"Let go of me!" Mark snapped his head in the direction of Dylan's voice in time to see him shoved forward by one of the men. His hands were bound behind him and two more held his shoulders. Mark wanted to call out to him but the weight of the person above him squeezed the air from his lungs and it came out as nothing more than a gasp. Dylan and his captors turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Dylan wasn't the only person Mark saw being led away. One by one, innies were cuffed, hauled up from the ground and walked down the corridor. Members of C&M, Mamalians Nurturable, he even saw a flash of dark grey hair that he was sure was Felicia but she was dwarfed by the men either side who quickly moved her forwards.

Yet Mark stayed where he was, crushed under the weight of what had to be at least three people holding him down, eyes desperately searching for a sight of her.

The pressure shifted slightly and Mark tried to get up but was slammed back down again. His hands were drawn behind his back and he felt cool metal press against his wrists.

"Get off me! I'm Helena Eagan. I'm the boss of this whole fucking company! Once they find out what you're doing to me-" Helly's voice was cut off with a cruel laugh.

"You think we don’t know who you are?" The voice dripped with scorn. Mark found her in his peripheral vision. She must have been behind him when he was forced down. He strained to see her as she tried to fight off the men around her, kicking her feet against their shins.

It gave new energy to Mark who tried with everything he had to break free of the men above him. This time, there was some give, the weight lessened and he was able to slide back towards his knees. He was ready to fight for Helly, to take on anyone who dared come near her, when firm hands caught his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. They'd let him get up. The realisation of his powerlessness washed across him.

"Helly!" he shouted now he could breathe again. She was in front of him now and turned her head at the sound of his voice.

"Mark!" They were practically carrying her down the corridor, her feet thrashing for leverage underneath her.

"Helly, I-" Mark didn't know what to say. He felt the pressure of the men pushing him forward and was relieved at least to see they were taking him in the same direction.

"Mark, I'm sorry. You could have got away. You shouldn’t have stayed. You could have had a chance." Helly's voice was frantic as their escorts weaved them down the corridor. She was still fighting, turning to look at him as much as she could. Their captors were mumbling something. Maybe instructions to him, maybe to each other. Mark's attention was focused on the red in front of him.

"It doesn't matter, Helly. I was screwed either way. At least this way I..." the words swelled in his throat, "I got to spend more time with you." He felt the tears brim in his eyes. It was the same conversation they'd had in MDR.

At least you'll have a chance at living.

Yeah but I wanna live with you.

He'd had it. For three whole days. And now it was gone.

"It wasn't long enough." This time he saw the tears on her cheeks as she twisted back to face him. She was right, it wasn't long enough. Forever would never be long enough.

"I know," he said. What more could he say? His one consolation was that when it was over, it'd be over. The moment he'd turned away from Ms. Casey he knew he was saying goodbye to any chance of reintegration. This would be the end. He would no longer have Helly in his life, but he wouldn't live without her either.

They were only a few steps away now. He knew he'd soon see the elevator appearing over Helly's shoulders. He panicked, tried to think of something to say that would convey even a fraction of what she meant to him but his tongue felt heavy and his mouth wouldn't move. In one big movement Helly managed to turn her face to him and he tried to put everything he wanted to say into his eyes. If this was the end, he'd keep looking at her until the last possible moment.

But they didn't slow as they approached the elevator. They just kept on walking...

Helly’s eyes darted around the room. What was happening? It seemed the logical conclusion to send them up in the elevator, to return them to their outies who had no idea what had transpired below. If they wanted to make the innies succumb to their control, all they had to do was take away their autonomy for good.

"What are you doing with us?" Helly's fire was starting to burn again. She resumed her fight against her escorts with renewed vigor and actually managed to break free of one's grasp but the other was quick to react. He used her momentum to spin her into the wall, pinning her there with his frame.

"Get off her!" Mark yelled and was shocked at the power in his own voice. The men that held him tightened their grip. Beyond that they ignored him.

"You wanna make goo-goo eyes at him?" said the captor pinning Helly. She refused to look at him, glaring at the floor instead. Mark could feel the anger radiating off her and wished he could do anything more useful than shout. "Well then,” the man continued, “I hope you enjoy the view." Both men pulled Helly off the wall and began dragging her backwards along the corridor. Helly tried to squirm but even Mark could see the crushing pressure of their grip.

"Helly, look at me," he said and her eyes shot up to him, panic written all over her face. "I'm here, Helly. Wherever we're going, I'm coming too." He couldn't know that. Helly knew he couldn't know that. But it didn't matter. They were together now and that was all they had.

They held onto each others' gaze as they wound through the corridors, Mark whispering reassurances, Helly whispering apologies. Forgive me for the harm I have caused this world. Mark hated that she knew it from memory.

Eventually Helly's escorts stopped and Mark broke their gaze long enough to take in their surroundings.

That was the moment he started to panic. He'd not wasted the brain power speculating on where they were going while he was focused on Helly, but now they'd stopped he knew exactly what lay ahead

"Helly, they're taking us to the other floor. Where they kept Ms Casey." Helly's eyes snapped back to his. He watched the realisation dawn on her face and then there she was, one final attempt to thrash free of the men either side. Mark was fighting too, summoning strength he didn't know he had to rip one hand from his shoulder.

He was shoved forward, stumbling two steps and then Helly was in front of him and he wanted to reach for her but his hands were still bound behind his back so instead they collided, pushed against each other as if the force could mold them together, make it impossible to be torn apart.

Yet Mark was still being shunted forwards and he twisted away, less he knock her over. They stumbled side by side, shoulders pressed together as the hands pushed them on. Mark wanted anything but to return to that floor again but whatever happened he would be with Helly and that made everything more bearable. They were shoved into the elevator and the captors stepped back from the door.

He turned to her and she to him. She looked terrified and he was sure he looked the same but they were together and would be whatever happened next. He pressed his forehead against hers as something clicked in his mind and he knew what it was that he wanted to say.

“Helly, I love you.” This time his voice didn't betray him. His words came out strong and certain, with the conviction of everything he felt.

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t want it to be like this. I-I love you too.” She was shaking, but the wildness in her eyes had been replaced with shining determination. Lumon had tried to ruin everything they’d had between them but they’d never even come close. Mark's heart would have soared if it wasn't weighed down with dread. Helly loved him and he loved her and if his life ended here, at least he died knowing the best thing he’d ever learned.

Their lips crashed together as the elevator doors closed, desperate passion mixed with the joy that it was to be loved. Frolic and woe combined. As if the kiss would be their last.

The elevator dinged.

Helena's first reaction was to jump back as if she'd been burned. Her second was to recognise the man in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat as memories washed over her. Red heat, blue tent, bodies pressed tightly together. She'd thought she'd never see him again, at least not up close. And while his lips featured regularly in her imagination, she'd never dared hope she'd actually taste them again. All she wanted was to dive forward and kiss him all over again.

At the same time, Mark had his own reaction. She watched confusion pass over his face. Recognition. Shock. Then anger. Helena flinched at the fury in his eyes and in doing so realised something sickening: her hands were cuffed behind her back.

Mark had come to the same realisation, shaking his arms against the restraints. Helena tried to keep her breathing steady. Whatever this was, it was for Helly. She'd be released soon.

“What the fuck is going on?” Mark shouted and Helena was left under no illusions as to which version of him stood before her. He closed the distance between them, as if squaring up, and Helena fought the urge to cringe away.

“I don't know. I literally just woke up in the elevator with-”

“Bullshit.” His voice was ice. Helena was glad his hands were bound. She was scared of what he'd do otherwise.

Before she had chance to respond the elevator dinged and the doors opened to an unfamiliar white floor. Unfamiliar in that Helena had never been there. That didn't mean she didn't know where they were. Her hunch was confirmed when who rounded the corner but Dr Mauer himself.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” Mark yelled again though he didn't step forward. Helena watched him carefully, noticed a tremor of uncertainty in him. Fear, maybe. Had he been down here? Had Mark found his missing wife?

Mauer ignored him, instead fixing his gaze on Helena. She'd never liked him. There was something about the way he approached people that made her skin crawl but he held himself in a way that signaled authority. Like he was expecting them. Like this was all planned. That was good. It meant that she’d be freed and informed soon.

“Where is she? What did you do to my wife?” Mark was shouting again but there was a definite wobble to his voice. The tone tugged at something inside of Helena but she buried it down. It wasn’t him. This wasn’t her Mark.

“I got her out of here,” he continued when Mauer didn't respond. “I was with her in the elevator. He was meant to look after her. To make sure she got out safely.” He’d stepped back from her, retreating further into the elevator as if that would make it go back up. “Where the fuck is she?” His whole body shook.

Mauer looked bored. Mildly irritated by the distraction. “She's not here,” he said, as if commenting on the weather. As if it was inconsequential. “Well done, you got her out. Good for you.”

Helena watched Mark, saw the slightest tension ease from his shoulders. But his face stayed dark. “How do I know you're not lying to me?” Mauer held his gaze for a heartbeat before lifting a shoulder in a single shrug. Mark’s face fell, the flash of hope vanquished once again. He turned to Helena. “Is he lying?”

“I don't know, Mark. I came into work this morning just like you and the next thing I know I'm here.”

“Liar!” he shouted and Helena flinched at the sound. Tears were forming in his eyes and Helena couldn’t resist the need to explain.

“I’m severed, Mark. Just like you. It’s not me on that floor. I don’t know how we got here. The last thing I remember was getting into the elevator this morning.” She couldn’t tell if he was listening. His bound arms had hit the far wall of the elevator and he was sliding to the floor, tears spilling down his face. She knew it wasn’t him but everything inside her wanted to reach for him, to wrap her arms around him, pull him close and whisper that everything would be okay. But that would be a lie. Because it wouldn’t be.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I imagine you’d quite like those cuffs to be removed,” Dr Mauer began. Mark didn’t even react. He was staring at the floor. “So if you would be so kind as to follow me to your rooms and I’ll get this inconvenience cleared right up.”

It struck Helena how stupidly everyone at Lumon spoke. She straightened, snapping into the practised Helena Eagan posture and stepped out of the elevator. Dr Mauer nodded before looking expectantly at Mark. She turned to see him slumped, head hanging forward. A broken shell of a man.

“Mr. Scout, I assure you you’ll feel much better once the restraints have been removed.” Mark kept his head down, shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. Helena couldn't help but notice how different he was to the Mark she knew. She was sure her Mark wouldn't give up.

“Mr. Scout, I'd really advise you acquiesce, otherwise I'm going to have to get some help.” Mauer kept his voice cheerful but even Mark could hear the thinly veiled threat. It was a subtle movement at first as he pulled his feet beneath him and leaned against the elevator wall for support. But gradually he made his way to standing, eyes still turned to the floor.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?” Even Helena felt her temper flare at Mauer’s tone. “Now if you'll follow me,” he said and set off down the corridor. Helena followed, unhurried. It was as much power as she could project with her hands bound behind her back. Mark’s movements were slow for an entirely different reason.

He led them past room after room. Helena recognised some of the names. She was privvy to the reports but they were all much of the same and she'd taken to only reading the quarterly summaries. She knew Siena had been a success, but had no idea of the details as to why.

Mauer waited for them before turning a corner and unlocked a biometric door. He stood aside so they could enter what was, in essence, a small lounge. There was a two seater sofa pushed against one wall, a small bookcase next to it. In the centre was a plain white table, bordered by four chairs. There was a single plant in the corner and two doors in the far wall.

Mauer shuffled past and took position in front of the leftmost door. “Mr. Scout, this room will be your residence. You will find it equipped with a bed, washroom and basic amenities. You may enter and leave the lounge at will.” Mauer didn't need to say the last part out loud. Mark had seen the lock too.

“Please,” Mauer said, opening the door. Mark didn't move. Not until he heard the sound of keys pulled from Mauer’s pocket. That got a reaction from him and it wasn't exactly subtle. Helena hoped Mauer was prepared for what came next.

She needn't have worried. She heard the click of the lock and two security guards entered the room. They stood either side of the door, as if daring Mark to try something. He pointedly looked away as Mauer removed his cuffs then walked directly into the room. The door slid shut behind him.

“Delightful,” said Mauer, giving Helena a tight smile. “Shall we?” He gestured to the second door. Helena stepped forwards, turning so he could unlock her restraints. She rubbed her wrists when they were free, turning back to face him. Business mode snapped back into place.

“Thank you, Dr. Mauer. Is it Natalie I’m waiting for?” She would need an escort back to the surface given the only way out was via the severed floor.

“I believe she’s currently handling press. Your innies have created quite the problem for Lumon’s reputation.” Helena grimaced. Of course they had. It was bad enough having to damage control the night of the gala. In some ways it had been a relief when Helena went down to the severed floor in her stead. It meant that monster couldn’t do more damage. In the days since the Glasgow Block had been removed, Helena could only imagine the problems she’d created.

She’d been fucking her Mark for one thing. That had become apparent to her one day upon leaving the elevator.

“Drummond, then?” It made sense that Natalie was busy fielding questions. She was a natural and with Helena not around she was the perfect choice. She was sure Natalie would fill her in on anything important later. Drummond might be a better choice for an escort anyway.

“Dead. By the hand of your paramour, surprisingly. Although I doubt it was done with any such intention.” Dead? Drummond was dead? The idea shook Helena so much that she didn’t register his following words at first. By her paramour. He had to mean Mark. The fact he knew made her skin crawl but it also made no sense. Mark had killed Drummond? She swallowed. She wasn’t the only one for whom a chasm spread between innie and outie.

Unless he meant Mark S. An uncomfortable thought wormed its way up her spine. She’d already had two innies try to kill her. Why wouldn’t Mark S. be capable of that too?

No. That wasn’t him. Helena knew.

“That’s terrible news. I’ll send my condolences to the family.” Helena knew how to say the right thing, to keep her voice neutral while her head spun. Fuck, Drummond was dead. Mauer held his hands out, palms turned upwards. What can you do?

“Your father will be by in the next few days,” he said, back to business. “He is very busy, as you can imagine, but assures me he'll make time to speak with you.” Helena nodded. Of course. That was the way these things always worked.

“I look forward to it.” Helena was restless now, keen get out, find out the true extent of the damage her innie had done. Whatever it was, she was sure it was going to be painful.

“Well,” said Mauer before turning on his heel. Helena began to follow. One of the guards stepped forwards.

“Ah, I believe you have misunderstood.” Mauer turned back to her, the Lumon brand condescension on his face triggering an alarm in the back of her mind. “Your father will be meeting you here.”

“In a few days,” she replied, as if they were just misunderstanding each other.

“Yes.” He held her gaze, waiting for the penny to drop. But this had to be a misunderstanding. It couldn’t be anything else.

“So will these two be escorting me outside?” She looked from one guard to the other, indifference on her face. As Lumon men, they were her employees and she would treat them as such.

Mauer smiled that practised smile yet again. “No.” The word sent a bolt of ice through her but she squashed it down. He was playing a game, looking for power. She’d faced down his kind so many times at Lumon. Men who thought they were more deserving than the woman who carried the name Eagan. Desperate to prove their superiority. Not one of them had won.

“Mauer,” she warned, wearing the practised Helena Eagan glare.

“Helena.” His voice was soft. Placating. Like he was talking to a child. Helena raised an eyebrow. First Cobel. Then Milchick. Now Mauer. All three could use a refresher on the teachings of Kier. She would be writing some scathing reports.

“I have to go,” he said and turned away. Once again, Helena stepped forward to follow him when a firm hand settled on her shoulder. The touch froze her in place long enough for the first of the guards to leave through the door and then it was just her and the remaining one. The one with his hand on her shoulder.

He applied pressure, not a shove but enough of a push that she instinctively stepped back. Then he backed out of the room and the door closed behind him. It was the sound of the lock clicking back into place that snapped her out of it.

“Mauer.” She raised her voice to be heard through the door, clinging onto her authority with everything she had. “Mauer, enough.” Silence beyond the door. Not even footsteps. Was he waiting outside or had he already left?

“Mauer, tell me what you want. Is it a promotion? Leadership? Greater pay? I can advocate for you in your next performance review.” She knew it was ridiculous but Helena placed her hands on the door and gave it a push. It held solid. “Mauer? Let’s talk about this, please.”

Helena felt the familiar tightening of her jaw, the pain behind her temples. She took a deep breath. This was not the time for her to be having ridiculous anxiety.

“Mauer!” Helena raised her voice even louder, consciously projecting less shrillness creep into her pitch. “You are going to escort me out of the building right now or I will be telling my father about this nonsense.”

Your father will be by in the next few days. What if he already knew?

Helena walked away from the door. Patience. Let him play his game. Let him think he’d won. Sometimes you needed to give someone the illusion of power to get the outcome you wanted. Helena knew how to wield that tactic from her toolkit.

She pulled out a chair from the table and sat on it, perfect posture, perfect composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to return. Helena would just have to wait.

So she did. She was the picture of stillness for two whole hours. She kept herself occupied by thinking through Lumon’s hierarchy, puzzling through how her employees had become so obstinate. By the third hour she was restless. It was time to try a different tactic.

“Mauer!” she shouted at the door. She was met with the usual silence. “Mauer, this is unacceptable. If you want to keep your job I would strongly recommend you open this door right now.” She knew it would undermine her but she gave the door a shove anyway. Silence from the other side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. What if he wasn’t coming back? She’d heard stories, of course. Disgruntled employees who had attempted to get back at their employers. But kidnapping the CEO-in-waiting with the help of two guards seemed farfetched even for that. What if this was Lumon sanctioned?

No. It couldn’t be. This was her company. She was an Eagan. Yes, she could admit she hadn’t gotten every decision right but that was part of her learning. One needed to be battle scarred to become a CEO. So Helena had fought a lot of battles.

What if her father knew? What if he knew and had agreed to it?

“Mauer!” Helena’s voice cracked. Whatever composure she’d held was fraying at the edges. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming urge to get out. “Open the door!” She couldn’t help it, her fist was pounding against it. “Let me out!” She hammered the door until her hand hurt then kicked at it instead. “Let me the fuck out of here!” Helena threw herself at the door, bounced off it again and again as it sent her force straight back at her. What the fuck was going on? Why was she in there?

She stepped back. She needed to calm down. She needed to think. Mauer had an agenda and she just needed to work out how to play around it. She was safe. No one was going to hurt the heir to the company.

Mark. He was in the adjacent room. She could go to him, enlist his help in getting out of there. And then what? Get lost on the severed floor together? She didn’t even know who was in control up there.

Besides, if Mauer was to believe, he’d killed Drummond. What was he capable of doing to her? The thought sent a chill down her spine. Was she really safe?

Helena felt tightness wrap around her chest and gasped for air. She wasn’t safe. She needed to get out.

She cleared a path that gave her the longest straight line to the door then threw herself at it, hurtling at full speed. The impact sent her flying and she hit the floor hard, her head smacking against the edge of the table. She swore as she reached a hand towards it. It was just a knock. The skin was intact.

What if she was concussed? What did people do if they thought they might be concussed? She wasn’t sure but knew that slamming into the door once again was definitely off the list. She pulled herself up to seating and leaned back against the table. She just needed to wait it out for a little while. Be a bit more patient.

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't help it. She felt trapped. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. She was always bound by the constraints of her name. But this time the trap wasn't metaphorical and the realisation was overwhelming. She was helpless and for the first time in her life, the Eagan name meant nothing.

It was Helena’s turn to sob.

–

Despite herself, Helena had moved to the empty room. Closing the second door was a choice, something she made the decision to do. It acted as protection, a layer between her and the unknown quantity that was Mark Scout and brought her time to compose herself as and when Mauer returned. She couldn't apply the same logic to why she was wrapped tightly in the blanket, fetal on the bed.

She heard the door click, the shuffling of feet and allowed herself one more second of hiding before she sat upright on the bed. There was a mirror in the room and she took a moment to examine her reflection. Both her hair and face were a mess. What had her innie been doing up there? She eyed the hair brush on the counter. They'd supplied basic amenities like shampoo and a toothbrush but there was no make up. It wasn't like she had time to fix this mess anyway.

She pulled her shoulders back, let business Helena snap back into place. It didn't fix her appearance but it certainly helped. She turned to open the door.

The table was back to its original position in the room, chairs tucked neatly underneath. On top were two place mats, a knife and fork. Mauer lifted a plate from a tray next to him and placed it upon one of the mats. A guard stood by the door.

It was just like home. Dinner served at her table. The thought made her sick.

“Will Mr. Scout be joining us?” Mauer asked. As if this was a corporate dinner. As if she had any right to speak for him.

“I would prefer to take my meal at home.”

“Quite.” Mauer resumed setting the table, the second plate placed across from the first. Helena moved towards the table but didn't sit, waiting for Mauer to take his place first. He met her glare with his own expectant look. Helena wouldn't break first.

“Do you want to get him, or shall I?” Mauer maintained the cheerful facade. He nodded towards the door Mark was, presumably, still behind. Helena hadn't heard a sign of him. “No?” He continued when she didn't respond. “I'll get him then.”

“Mauer.” She tried again. The same warning tone she'd used hours before. This time something in his shoulders tensed. He turned back to face her.

“Helena. Stop this game.” That same tone again. As if she was a child. Since she'd become severed more and more people were using it towards her.

“Yes, Dr. Mauer, that's exactly what I'm asking.” Business Helena didn't get annoyed by things like this. She let condescension wash off her, held power in her silence. Now he'd returned he wasn't leaving without her again.

“Sit, Helena. I'll collect Mark Scout and then the three of us can have that conversation you're so desperate for.” Her jaw tightened. It wasn't a conversation with Mark Scout she was desperate to have. She was in the dark about so much and with Mark there she would get answers to very little. But it was a concession to somewhat of a conversation at least and that was better than the railroading she’d received so far. So she'd accept the scrap she’d been offered. She took a seat before one of the plates at the table.

“Mr. Scout!” Mauer’s voice was that of a parent waking their nocturnal teen. He rapped on the door. Unsurprisingly, he received no response. “Mr. Scout, I would really appreciate it if you were a bit more cooperative with my requests. I think you'll find they're not unreasonable, really.” Helena wondered whether he'd wait until they dragged him out. Mauer gave another rap on the door. This time it opened.

“There, that wasn't so hard, was it?” Mark didn't look at Mauer. He stormed past him to the table, pulling out the chair and stabbing into the chicken on the plate. “Going to wait for the rest of us, Mark?” He ignored him.

Helena waited for Mauer to join them at the table but he stayed standing. The look he gave Mark was unexpectedly hostile but Mark was oblivious, focused only on the contents of his plate. Helena decided she had waited enough.

“Dr. Mauer,” she began and it took a moment for him to turn to her. “Are you going to tell us why you organised this event?”

“Yes, I guess it does feel like a special occasion,” he replied. “Don't worry, the novelty will wear off soon.” Helena kept her smile plastered to her face. When she got out of there she'd make sure Mauer regretted his arrogance.

“Well I'm not sure how much of this is new to you, Helena, but for the benefit of Mr. Scout, we've been running extensive tests of the severance barrier the past two years, ensuring it holds even through the most tumultuous of emotions. We thought we had the perfect test conditions between Mr. Scout and his wife-” That caused a reaction from Mark. His head shot up, anger plain on his face. Mauer paused. The whole room held still, waiting to see what Mark would do next. Once he’d decided Mark posed no immediate threat, Mauer continued. “But… It turns out that we didn't have it quite right after all.” Mark returned his attention to his plate, feigned indifference entirely unconvincing.

“You see, our theory was that love was the greatest emotion. Thus if two individuals in love were to become severed, would this cause a weakening in the severed barrier? Would those two individuals recognise each other? Would they fall in love again?” Mark’s movement slowed, though he didn’t look up from his plate. Helena could guess what he was thinking. Mark S. had confirmed that he knew his outie’s wife from the severed floor. Knew, nothing more.

“At first we thought our tests had succeeded. Your innie exhibited no interest in that of your wife beyond the casual interest one would show any coworker. But something curious started emerging. He started showing interest elsewhere, which we initially interpreted as a sign of the barrier holding until we came up with a different theory.

“We now have reason to believe the severance barrier is not impervious to such emotions and we were just looking in the wrong place. Because your innie wasn’t looking for love with your wife. He was too busy fucking the heir of the company instead.” He looked at Helena as he said it and a sick realisation settled in her stomach. It wasn’t Mark or his innie’s behaviour that had caused them to re-examine their theory. It was hers.

Mark stood, knocking the table back towards Helena. His knife clattered to the floor. At the same time the security guard took a step forward but Mark didn't move another muscle. He just stared at Mauer. Helena was frozen, ready for the penny to drop and his anger to switch targets but Mauer looked right at him and smiled. “Careful,” he said.

The air was thick with the silence, Mark’s heavy breathing the loudest noise in the room. His whole body was coiled but Helena could see the restraint in him too. He knew attacking Mauer would be futile but his temper wouldn't let him back down.

Helena was on a knife edge. Mauer knew. There was no excuse for her behaviour at the ORTBO. Her charade was cracking with Irving but with Mark S. it was still very much intact. She didn’t need to fuck him to prove that. But she’d done it anyway, let a moment of weakness overcome her better judgement and in doing so had cast suspicion upon herself.

It took everything Helena had to keep her body from shaking. This was all her fault. In trying to save Lumon’s experiment from disaster she’d handed them what they were looking for on a plate: A severed person, both sides drawn to the same man.

Her hand began to twitch on her lap, rebellious against her control. It was clear now why Mauer was keeping her there. It wasn’t some dumb powerplay to advance his position at Lumon. It was something worse. Helena was no longer an Eagan preserving the success of the company. She was part of the experiment.

She wanted to run, to sprint from the table and spill the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. But it wasn’t willpower that was stopping her, she was out of mind over matter, it was survival:

Mark Scout didn’t know.

It was obvious from the way he stood, posture angled towards Mauer as his fists clenched at his sides. The implication hadn’t been subtle but Mauer had also implied he didn’t love his wife. Helena was saved by emotion overtaking higher reasoning. But that didn’t mean it would last.

Mauer kept his eyes on Mark. One glance in her direction and he could connect the dots. Her safety was in the hands of an employee she hated, one she’d threatened just hours earlier. Would the guard even defend her if Mark lunged her way?

“More food, Mr. Scout?” Mauer gestured to his plate. It still had about a third left. Helena watched the two men carefully. Either one had the power to escalate.

Mark shook his head, expression turning to disgust. He held Mauer’s gaze a beat longer before returning to both his seat and the plate in front of him. He picked up his fork, stabbed a large piece of chicken and tore at it with his teeth. No knife required.

“We have a busy itinerary tomorrow,” Mauer said with complete disregard for the tension in the room. “We’ll bring breakfast at seven thirty am, a boiled egg for Helena of course, we’ll get one for you too, Mark. Our first activity for the day will begin at nine. Don’t worry about that right now, we’ll give you the details in the morning.” Helena stared blankly at her hands in her lap. A fucking boiled egg.

“In the meantime, we’ll leave the two of you to your meal. Eat up! Don’t stay up too late!” Mauer made for the door. Helena should have said something, done something to convince him not to leave her again but she was frozen, bound by the fear he’d tell Mark why they were there and leave her to deal with the consequences. So she stayed silent, eyes still locked on her own hands. Mark kept eating.

“Oh, one last thing.” She heard the door open. Mauer was so confident they wouldn’t even try to escape. “Helena, if you don’t eat, someone will be along to force feed you. Make it easy on all of us, would you?” And with that he left the room.

Helena listened for the lock clicking back into place, the only sound now that of Mark chewing his food. She would eat. There would be cameras in the room and they’d know if she didn’t. She needed to cling to some semblance of her dignity. She just needed a moment to calm her tempers.

Mark dropped his fork. It crashed against the plate, the harshness making Helena flinch. He laughed without humour. Helena closed her eyes for just a second before raising her head. He was staring at her.

She held his gaze, kept her face neutral. She could feel sweat running down the back of her neck. Had he figured it out?

“I hate you.” His voice was flat. Stating a fact. It shattered her regardless.

It shouldn't have. Of course Mark Scout hated her. She was an Eagan. She was Lumon, the company that had caused him so much damage and would continue to do so. Of course he hated her.

The problem was that he delivered it with the face and voice of Mark S. and her body didn't know the difference. The pain must have shown on her face because his blank expression laced with anger.

“You've ruined my life.” She took it. She deserved it. “Don't eat. I hope you starve.” He swung his arm over the table, sending her plate hurtling to the floor. He didn't wait to see it land, he was already on the way to his room. Helena heard the hiss of the door shut behind him.

She stared at where the plate had been, tears forming in her eyes. He hadn't hit her but she'd been damaged by his violence all the same. She squeezed her eyes shut as if the darkness would make it all go away but all she could see was the hatred on his face.

She tried to shake it away but it clung to the back of her eyelids. She tried to replace it, with water, with emails, with a boiled egg. Nothing would make it go away.

Desperately, she tried to conjure him differently, to picture the smile she'd memorised. It immediately turned into a frown. That was it. She was ruined. The memories she'd tried so hard to keep replaced with icy fear.

Her eyes shot open. She needed a distraction. She needed to do something before she lost it completely.

She spotted the plate on the floor. It had landed the right way up. A single potato and three slices of carrots remained on the plate. She wasn't hungry, the thought of food made her sick, and Mark had wanted her to starve.

Tears stung her eyes. It was pathetic. He’d taken away her protest. Eat or not, she would be doing it for someone regardless.

She made her way over to the plate and picked it up, careful not to drop the four items of food left. She brought it back to the table. Her fork was scattered on the floor. Mark’s was on his plate. Maybe yesterday she would have picked it up, let herself succumb to the guilty pleasure. Now it was poisoned.

She picked up the potato with her hand and bit into it. It tasted of ash. Her stomach revolted immediately but she forced it down. She would eat, but it was for herself. She couldn't become weak. What if she needed to defend herself?

Her mouth was dry, the water soaking into the floor. She kept eating.

Mark Scout was right. She'd ruined his life. She might not have been involved in Gemma’s abduction but he'd been doomed from the moment they met face to face. It hadn't even been them.

She was good at ruining things. Her father had made sure she knew that growing up. She'd ruined his mood, his meetings, every company initiative that didn't go to plan. Helena was a ruiner. So why not lives too?

So that's who she was. Helena Eagan, life ruiner. She'd ruined Mark Scout’s. She'd ruined Mark S’. She'd ruined her own. And it was only going to get worse from here.