For a moment, I just stared. I'd been exposed to Mela's unique brand of insanity plenty of times before, of course, but not once had I heard something quite so questionable come out of her mouth.

"Mela, no," I ended up sighing. "Just… no."

She wasn't having it.

"What do ya mean, no? Ya two plan to get into even more shit, right? So ya need someone ya can trust as backup. And don't go off about those mercs of yers! Ya can't trust mindless brutes like that for shit. 'Sides… I want revenge of my own."

I fiddled with an empty takeout box. "Listen, Mela. I know I explained everything that happened, but I downplayed some of it, okay? There's a lot that can go wrong with these cybernetics."

She actually scoffed at me. Patronizingly. "I'm sure I'll handle it just as well as ya, kid."

Before I could open my mouth and say something I was going to regret, Amelia jumped in.

"That's true," my ripper said smoothly. "Still, you should know what you're getting into."

And she unleashed the full, unabridged truth. Every last bit of it, including the stuff I wanted to keep hidden from anyone who wasn't Amelia. Even the stuff we still had no clue about, like what the eldritch-corrupted Essence was doing to us. Everything.

She even went as far as to confess the issues she'd been having herself. I saw the way Mela shifted in discomfort when Amelia shared about the urge to meddle with other people's bodies, and her fears about not being able to resist that urge. But, for the first time since she'd met Amelia, I also saw respect gleaming in Mela's eyes.

It wasn't like she'd been rude or dismissive before. She just hadn't paid much attention to Amelia, beyond humoring her shy interjections with a smile. This Amelia, though, the one who wasn't worried about potentially saying the wrong thing, seemed to appeal to Mela as someone worth knowing.

"So, if you want to get your hands on cybernetics like ours, I'll help." Amelia shrugged. "I just think you need to consider it carefully."

That earned her a glare from me. I'd been hoping she would discourage the crazy ganger, not do the opposite!

Mela leaned forward across the table. "Fuck yes I want them. Listen, I get ya. There's a bunch of risks. I wouldn't want this scrawny ass getting these either," she said, nodding towards me. "But he's got 'em now, and we're all in deeper shit than I'd prefer. Anything that helps us at this point is good. Including suspicious cybernetics made by an insane asshole."

"Oi. I helped make those!" Amelia crossed her arms. "In fact, I'd say I deserve more credit than my father does."

"Then why dontcha understand how they work if ya made 'em?"

"It's not my fault! It was actually my mother who did most of the coding. I mean, I did a bunch of work, but…" Amelia trailed off when she spotted the growing smirk on Mela's face. "Oh, I see how it is! It's so on! Let me see you come crying to me when you need a decent ripper!"

Mela broke into proper, full-belly laughter. I had no idea what set her off so hard, though I would be the first to admit Amelia's pouting expression was definitely adorable.

"Oohhhh, I needed that. Was afraid ya were one of those delicate corpo flower types, but ye're alright, kid! I can trust ya to look after this here idiot."

She gestured at me again. I was caught between wilting and wanting to bite her fingers off.

I'd done a whole lot of shit since the last time we'd seen each other. I was all mature now! With lots of impressive feats on my record. Awkwardly flirting, accidentally seducing a bar tender, murder, eldritch transformations of others, and cannibalism. Oh, and I was potentially a cybernetic plague now?

The point was: I was totally fine and able to look after myself, thank you very much.

"Look at 'im pouting, ain't he cute?" Mela cooed.

"No! No I am not!" I protested over Amelia's snickers. "And anyway, I can't get you cybernetics. I don't have them anymore. I told you that."

"But ya know where they are."

"I know where they were. I have no clue where they currently are or what state the slums are in. For all I know, the cybernetics melted when the slums went up in flames or something."

That put a damper on things quickly enough.

"Besides," I went on, "we can't get out to them to begin with."

"Eh, didn't ya say the travel ban's been lifted?"

Stolen story; please report.

"Sure, but you don't have a proper ID to be here. Or do you? Anyway, even if you did, it's not like Amelia or I could travel to the slums. We'd need to pass the checkpoints, and we have no clue if her father's got someone watching those records, ready to report us."

"Well…That's not exactly true," Amelia cut in.

I shot her another glare. "What do you mean, that's not true? Are we going to teleport there to avoid the checkpoints? 'Cause if you got teleportation powers, while mine are mostly murder-related, we're going to be having words!"

Her smile was weak and unconvincing. "That's not it at all. Just… How do you think the mercs were operating before? When stealing people from the slums?"

"I thought we got to the bottom of this," I grumbled. "They had, or have I guess, a guy on the inside who can mess with ID registrations. Ugh. I know this means we can get your ID adjusted either way, Mela. The other thing's still true, though!"

"That's just it." Amelia's smile widened. "Sure, they messed with IDs and stuff, but not immediately. It was once they had their 'product' shipped in already. You see, if you work for a registered company, with a valid charter and a reason to conduct business in other districts, all you need to do when passing through checkpoints is show the permits. So…"

Mela jumped in hungrily. She had played the brainless muscle most of the time, but she'd been an important officer for the Kittens. I knew she had dealt with plenty of logistics and other crap she liked to complain about. "So, if we were in some kind of a van, none of us would be IDed separately, right?"

"Exactly." Amelia's grin now perfectly matched Mela's energy. "We just need a merc, one of the vehicles they've got registered under the company, and… that's it, actually. We apply for some imaginary job, we get the permit sorted, and we're set. That might have been done already, actually. I know they wanted fresh 'merchandise' for their psychotic corpo clients."

None of us had to fake our utter disgust at that, though I admit my unhappy expression was partly twisted by the realization that I was losing ground rapidly.

I couldn't explain it. Not really. But I also couldn't deny the vague anxiety, bordering on panic, I felt at the thought of going back to the slums.

Then there was the fact that I wanted Mela nowhere near the cybernetics.

"Listen, I get it, we can retrieve the cybernetics. I-I even agree it's a good idea. It's reckless to leave those out there, sure." I forced myself to look her in the eye. "But, Mela, this is a massive risk. A risk you don't even need to take! Those things can completely twist you. And if you're incompatible with them, you might lose yourself entirely. Right, Amelia? How many times have you complained about your father taking stupid risks by giving them away?"

"I mean… that's true, yes, if the proper care isn't taken. We can do some tests once we've got the cybernetics. I can make it almost as safe as regular cybernetics surgery, and make the recovery period much shorter, too." Amelia huffed in annoyance. "Oh, stop scowling, Adrian. It's really Mela's choice!"

I didn't stop scowling. In fact, I started scowling quite a bit harder. "We're still not sure what kind of long-term effect these have on us. Plus all the Essence stuff. Mela hasn't even started on that."

"And it's not really necessary unless you're installing multiple or conflicting pieces," Amelia countered. "She'd just get a pair of limbs or something, right? That's what you'd prefer? Eyes would be tough, but I might be able to reproduce a pair with Adrian's help."

Mela nodded in eager confirmation, flexing her fingers. "Arms, preferably. If that doesn't work, maybe legs? I'd take either."

"You two are impossible," I groused. "Also, what do you mean you might be able to reproduce the eyes?"

Amelia finally seemed to feel sheepish enough not to meet my gaze. "I mean… technically, all I'd need to make a pair of eyes like yours are Shadow Runner eyeballs. I've got the copies of the code you stole, and I have the know-how, plus scans of your eyes. So, if you… you know, turn somebody into a Shadow Runner… we'd be set?"

I stared, because it was hard not to. Amelia flushed harder and harder. Finally, she jumped up.

"I need a drink! Does anyone else need a drink? I think I'm going to go get a drink!"

I shook my head slowly as she stomped away, all my breath coming out in a whoosh.

I loved Amelia. I really, truly did. But occasionally, she'd just come out and remind me that she was, in fact, her father's daughter.

Okay, that was a little harsh. Still, though… she had a little 'crazy scientist' in her. When taking into account the fact that her mother had been one too? More than a little.

For an overlong stretch of time, the room fell silent. Mela and I kept eying each other awkwardly.

"So…" I finally ventured. "How are you holding up?"

"Heh. That the best ya could manage, kiddo?"

"Hey, it's not my fault both of us are awkward asses."

Her smile returned in full. "I guess it ain't. Anyway, I'm doing just fine."

"Yeah? Been to… ah… see him? I mean, we told the drones to do whatever you wanted. You could have ordered them to take you to him any time. Figured you'd get a giggle out of seeing him that way."

The longer I talked, the deeper I dug the hole of regret about even bringing her brother up. Eventually, though, I managed to snap my mouth shut.

Mela had gone stone-faced. Her eyes were fixed on some point over my shoulder, unseeing. It took several minutes that felt like centuries before she spoke again.

"I didn't go visit him, no. I… don't know that I can. It ain't pity or whatever, mind. Wouldn't mind seeing him de-limbed. I just don't have a single clue what I'd do ta him if I saw him. Might cry. Might scream. Might pop the eyes out of his skull and force him to eat 'em. Can't tell ya for shit. I… I don't know if I can force myself to deal with that."

"You don't have to," I said quietly. "He's not going anywhere. When you feel like dealing with him eventually, you'll be able to."

Part of me wanted to stand up and offer her a hug or something. This was Mela, though, not Amelia. Amelia needed hugs and reassurance. Mela mostly needed her guns and a target.

So, I wisely stayed in my seat. I wouldn't push anything onto her unless she initiated something, like one of her teasing hugs that felt more like attempts to squeeze the life out of me.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Her eyes finally settled onto my face. "Not sure if I said this, but… thanks. For, ya know, getting me outta that apartment. Setting me up here. Hanging about in general."

"The least I could do. Literally."

"Nah. I wasn't in the best spot yesterday, but it wasn't yer fault, Adrian. Ya were just a kid looking fer new eyes. Sure, ya fucked up some stuff, but the attacks? The terror campaign in the slums? The… the Kittens? Not your fault."

We fell silent again. Just two shattered individuals, trying to avoid dealing with their emotions. Trying to keep things buried, just so we could function. Both of us likely hoping Amelia would come back and rescue us from the awkwardness.

I knew I was.

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