Participants:
Also Featuring:
| Scene Title | Cracks |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | sǝƃuɐɥɔ ƃuᴉɥʇʎɹǝʌƎ |
| Date | April 19, 2021 |
Leah Hesser sits in a brightly lit observation room dressed up to look like a bedroom. She slouches on the edge of her bed, fingers plucking as pills of wool on her comforter. A square of white gauze covers one of her eyes, taped to her face.
"What'd the doctors say?"
Her father, Secretary Cedric Hesser looks on through a two-way mirror. He hasn't slept in days and it shows in the heavy bags under his eyes. The doctor beside him offers little more than a subtle shake of his head in response, looking down at a charmingly anachronistic paper medical report attached to a clipboard.
"She's stable. The hemorrhaging had stopped by the time you arrived, and the damage is relative minor. You're lucky." The doctor says, flipping to the second page. Credic doesn't feel lucky. "What we don't know is the cause. Leah has no underlying symptoms that would have brought on her condition, but…" He exhales a steady sigh. "Cedric, this may have been a manifestation."
Cedric steps closer to the doctor, affording a quick and concerned glance to his daughter. "Manifestation." It's said like an accusation. "What her— her power is being sick?"
The doctor sighs sharply and turns to face Cedric. "No. But there's good science behind the understanding that over-stress of abilities can lead to cerebral hemorrhaging just like she experienced. We can call in some behavioral specialists from SESA, see if we can—"
"Will it help her." Cedric snaps, gesturing to Leah through the mirror.
"Identifying the potential shape of her ability could save her life." The doctor flatly states. "For all we know she could have hemokinesis and the next person to that gets hit is you or your wife." Cedric's face pales at the possibility and he steps over to the mirror, watching Leah with an unsteady jaw. His daughter—his pride and joy—has moved from the bed over to a newspaper, leafing through it all the while not knowing she's being observed. "Mr. Hesser, for all we know Leah could be dangerous without proper care, supervision, and training. We need to rule out that a manifestation caused her episode."
Cedric nods and starts to turn from the mirror. "Whatever it takes to—" But when Leah screams his attention is locked on her again. The doctor hurries to the mirror as he sees Leah back away from the newspaper screaming. Both he and Cedric rush out of the observation booth, bursting into the hallway.
"Code grey!" The doctor yells at an orderly, who immediately hustles over to a phone on the wall and calls in the code. No alarms sound, no klaxons blare, but the proper staff are being notified. Cedric is the first into the room and Leah still hasn't stopped screaming. He hurries over to his daughter without fear, sweeping her up into his arms and pulling her to his chest.
"Babygirl, babygirl— Shh, I—I'm here? Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Cerdic asks shakily, brushing back her hair from her face, checking her ears and her visible eye, trying to see if she's hurt.
"It's wrong! It's not him! It's not him!" Leah screams hiding her face against her father's chest. Cedric looks at the doctor wide-eyed and accusatory and the doctor starts to scan the room around where Leah was standing.
"Baby, who? Was there someone here? Baby you gotta' tell me what's wrong." Cedric is full of panic, cradling his daughter to him, one hand on her cheek, trying to look into her eyes.
"He's gone. I remember him! This isn't right! This isn't right!" Leah screams shakily, and Cedric looks over at the doctor who picks up the newspaper that Leah was flipping through before her episode. He holds up a copy of the Safe Zone siren and shakes his head in confusion.
"Something's wrong! Something's wrong!" Is all Leah can scream.
Because she doesn't have the words to actualize what happened.
Yet.
Twenty Seven Years Later
HORIZON Lab
Gateway
Hesser's Quarters
A dog-eared journal marked by dark stains contains a growing list of names, tracked over the course of years.
Sitting at a small, metal desk under a single fluorescent light, Leah Hesser taps one end of a pen against the list of names. She swallows tightly, flipping to the next page, making notes in a newer journal beside it. Beside her, Nester Conroy sits on the corner of the desk, cradling a steaming cup of tea in both hands. He looks down at Hesser's journal, brows furrowed in worry.
"Hit list?" Conroy asks with a crooked smile, and Leah can't help but mirror it back.
"Sort of?" She sets her pen down and turns to face Conroy, crossing one leg over the other. "I've been keeping track of known refactoring experiences since I was pretty young." She slides the old journal over to Conroy, who sets down his tea and picks it up, thumbing through the pages. "The dates are when I noticed them."
Conroy glances at Leah, then flips through a couple more pages. "I don't recognize anybody."
"Yeah." Leah says. That's the point. "Some of them used to live here, but after you all started moving through time they'd just… wink out." That assertion has Conroy glance up at Leah again. He gives the book one more glance and then brandishes it at her.
"You remember the refactorings?" Conroy startles. "But you don't—you aren't on any away teams." He looks at the cover of the journal. "You remember everything?"
Hesser closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Not clearly. Not always. It fades—what used to be—like a dream. But when something changes it… hits me."
Conroy sets the journal down and watches Leah carefully. "Hits you how?" Worry has his voice tight. Leah doesn't answer, instead she takes the journal back.
"What I'm trying to figure out is where this all started." She says, pushing Conroy's worry aside. "Because not all of these are ours." She points to the list. Conroy slides off the desk and steps next to Leah, looking at the open pages, then back to her. "This one, from when I was thirteen?"
Leah points to a name on the list. The first name, written so long ago that it's almost entirely faded.
"We didn't do this one."
Conroy leans over, squinting at the name.
"Who the hell is Quentin Frady?" Conroy asks, glancing at Leah. She shakes her head in response.
"I don't remember."