Chapter Text
There are two possible outcomes to a binomial equation; success or failure. Either she creates a cure or...or what? She has to sit and watch the entire world turn into monsters? This wasn't the whole world this was Six. This was the one person in her life who seemed invincible, one of the most dangerous people in the world. The kind of danger that kept anyone with working brain cells from messing with him or anyone he cared about. Normally standing next to six felt like standing next to a lion, an apex predator all the others avoided, one that wouldn't so much as flash its fangs at her out of respect. She loved that about him, how he could be so gentle and was always so in control. Seeing him reduced to a scaly growling mess locked in a cage felt...too familiar.
It was the same feeling she would get when visiting her sister's cell in the petting zoo. However, the feeling sinks much deeper than that. No, this feeling existed before EVO's, before providence, before the stress of getting 3 PHDs in a world that was ending. Something she felt far too early in her life. Looking at Six right now felt like standing in front of a grave. Having no idea if he can hear her, just knowing she'll never be able to see his face or hear his voice again. Of all the close calls, all the times she almost lost him this one was by far the worst.
Unlike a gravestone, EVOs don't normally sit still and look pretty. Giving her hope that she could cure him, bring him back at any cost. It had the added effect of making every failure that much more painful in the process. She had hoped this nightmare-like cycle had ended when she finally cured Beverly. Something she couldn't have done without six. Now she had to find a solution without him, meanwhile trying to comfort rex who wasn't taking this well at all. Rex seemed to switch rapidly between denial and anger that seemed to stem from the guilt of not being able to cure six himself, not being able to comfort Holiday, and not noticing anything was wrong for so long. Neither could stand seeing six locked up like this even though they knew it was for the best.
At first when six turned he was weak; because he had fought the transformation for months in secret it had taken a toll on his body and mind. He spent the first few weeks with blinding pain, hunger and weakness while being poked and scanned. Unable to gather his thoughts Six was barely aware of anything outside the prison that was his new body.
He could feel a feeding tube in his throat along with other machines. Everything hurt and breathing was hard. slowly things got better and eventually he was moved somewhere dark. The feeding tube was gone. He was still weak when he woke up, his throat hurt and he was so thirsty.
Slowly as he recovered he became aware of the cold floor of his cells, where food and water was, and the schedule the scientist and Evo handlers followed. There wasn't much that was mentally stimulating in the cell, listening to the Evos above him in the petting zoo, the conversations of agents, the buzzing of the lights. It was boring and he hated sitting still so long.
Most of his time was spent walking the length of his cage. A small window let red light in but not much else. Fully recovered physically and without much else to do, he decides to try to sleep. usually next to the water and food dispensers.
Thoughts always came easier to him when he was in the space between awake and fully asleep. Just barely starting to twist into images and sounds into something not quite yet a dream while still being able to feel hear and smell the real world around him. He needed to get out, needed to find something. He couldn't remember what it was but he was sure once he found it more memories would come back.
As he drifted further off he started to dream. He dreamed he was a man, with a monster sitting opposite him. The creature was lizard-like with a tail that could grow blades out of itself at will. It was mostly green with brown paws and had short stubby horns. Its eyes were solid black. it had some hair on its chin and along the top of its spine, though the hair was thick and looked more like quills.
At its feet sliced up was a dead body. This dream was reoccurring, though the body was always someone new. The monster growled at him. He could hear a voice from the dark fog around him. Calling him a coward. Whispering that this was his fault and he should feel ashamed.
The truth was he DID feel ashamed, he knew he didn't really care who the monster killed. The guilt must have had another source. He also knew he was terrified of the monster in front of him, frozen in fear even. A sensation that he knows he hasn't felt in decades.
A woman would always walk up on them in the dream. She didn't seem afraid but she was crying. This was apparently his fault too. He could sense it. The woman wore her long black hair down, had green eyes that seemed to switch between analyzing to soft and inviting, and wore a lab coat.
Seeing her upset always made him jump awake. The dream quickly faded into a blurry memory, except for the girl. He needed to know who she was. He needed to escape and find something to make himself remember. That's when he came up with a plan.
He knew the faceless humans outside his cell would help him if he was injured again. So for the rest of the day, he chewed on his back leg. His teeth are very sharp but his scales are also tough, he realizes he's going to have to bite down as fast and hard as he can. In the process accidentally breaking his leg, he had only wanted to make it bleed unfortunately, he didn't realize how strong his jaw was. This causes him to yelp loudly and whimper calling out for help as best he can though nothing that comes out sounds anywhere close to words a cry is still a cry.