Darn Stupid Brother You Are

(Angel's POV)

The end of the confinement week came with a sense of relief, but the unease in the air was clear. It wasn't like things would go back to normal-whatever that even meant in this place. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the empty hallway from my dorm window, my thoughts swirling. Dr. Nixon was clearly stalling. The escape plan and the journal-everything had gone quiet since our last conversation, and I couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away. The last time Hendrix and I sneaked into the West Wing, we were almost caught. This time had to be different, and I had to be smarter. But first, I had to talk to him.

I hadn't seen Hendrix since that night-the night in the basement when everything between us got even a thousand times more complicated. My face flushed just thinking about it. Every time I let my mind wander back to those moments, a knot formed in my stomach. Guilt and excitement and confusion-all mixed into one huge mess.

But I couldn't let that stop me. There was too much at stake.

I found him sitting near one of the vending machines in the lounge area and casually sipping from a can of soda like nothing had happened. I approached slowly and felt my heart pounding. The closer I got, the more I felt the awkwardness between us. His gaze flicked up to meet mine, and for a brief second, I saw the tension-the same tension I was feeling.

But then he smiled, cool and composed like always. "Hey."

"Hey," I replied, and my voice was more steady than I felt. I swallowed hard and took a seat next to him, and our knees almost touched. "We need to talk."

He raised an eyebrow and pretended to take another sip. "About?"

"You know exactly what." I sighed and glanced around the empty room. "The West Wing."

Hendrix's expression didn't change much, but I could tell he was interested. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his messy hair. "And here I thought you were going to bring up... other things."

I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Look, I know things are awkward right now, but that's not what this is about. Nixon's stalling and I don't trust her to follow through with the plan."

He nodded, and his gaze shifted to the ground. "So, what's the plan now?"

"I want to go back. Tonight," I said and watched him closely.

He stayed quiet for a moment, clearly thinking it over. Then, with a soft sigh, he sat up straight. "Alright. Let's do it. But we've got to be smarter this time. We barely made it out last time."

I felt a flicker of relief. At least he wasn't pushing to talk about... us. But that also left me feeling kinda disappointed.

"Yeah," I agreed. "We'll be careful."

...

Later that night, we stood in one of the dimly lit hallways near the West Wing. My heart thudded in my chest as I glanced around and made sure no one was nearby. Hendrix stood close and scanned the area with that calm, almost-too-relaxed demeanor he always had.

The West Wing loomed ahead of us, dark and silent. This time, we knew what we were getting into or at least, we thought we did.

I pushed the door open gently and we slipped inside. The air was colder in this section, and the walls were lined with locked cabinets and filing drawers. The faint hum of machinery echoed in the distance. Hendrix gestured for me to follow, and we moved through the corridors like shadows and made sure to avoid any cameras or guards.

"Over here,” he whispered and pointed to a small room on the side.

I nodded and followed him inside. It was an office one that looked untouched, like no one had been in there for a while. Papers were scattered across the desk, some half-stuffed into drawers. We started searching, flipping through documents and rifling through folders. My hands trembled slightly as I pulled out a particularly thick file.

"What is it?" Hendrix asked and looked over my shoulder.

I opened it, and my breath caught in my throat as I scanned the contents. The file contained patient names, schedules, and... experiment logs. Horrific and detailed descriptions of procedures made my skin crawl. Blood transfusions, organ extractions, surgeries done without consent.

"Look at this,” I muttered and showed Hendrix one of the pages. "Ava's name is all over these documents. She's... involved in all of this."

He frowned and took the papers from me, reading through them. "Ava? Are you serious?"

I nodded and felt a sick twist in my gut. "I always knew she was off. I was right. But... this? I didn't think she could be this... evil."

Hendrix looked up and a dark look crossed his face. "So... you're telling me I've been sleeping with the enemy this whole time."

I couldn't help the sour laugh that escaped my lips. "Yeah. Maybe you should stop doing that."

He shot me a look, his voice dry. "So... are you my enemy too?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut, and I froze as my heart skipped a beat. "What? No-what do you mean?"

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and my blood ran cold. We exchanged a quick glance, and we both knew we had to get out. Fast.

We moved quickly and slipped back into the shadows, our hearts racing as we crept through the halls. The footsteps grew louder and closer, but we managed to slip out of the West Wing before anyone could catch us. We ducked into a busy hallway and blended in with the few staff members walking by, our breath coming in quick bursts.

As we hurried down the corridor, my mind raced. Ava. All this time, she had been working for them. But why? What did she have to gain?

Hendrix nudged me when we reached a quieter corner. "Now you know why Ava's the way she is. But we still don't know everything."

I nodded, my thoughts running in different directions. "We have to dig deeper. We're missing something."

But for now, we were safe. For now, we had uncovered yet another piece of the twisted puzzle that was this center. And I wasn't sure how much longer we could keep up this game without getting caught.