Little Paper Dolls: On the Plane Home

[xp-cuckoos.livejournal.com]

Well... that's certainly one definition of 'talking to yourself'. Even if the other you isn't really you at all, it's an incredibly surreal experience. Doesn't help they're both incredibly paranoid.



14 had fallen into the role of sisters flawlessly. Surrounded by strangers, being taken god only knew where, trapped in a plane somewhere high over the Canadian landscape, there was no way she was giving up that she was only one person. Celeste sat in one of the fancy chairs, completely still. With two of herself (Sophie and Esme) still unconscious, she felt like she was thinking through a fog. Irma had slumped down beside the chair and drawn her knees up to her chin defensively, looking to the world the picture of a scared, confused young woman. On the other side, Phoebe paced back and forth with vigor. 14 could feel the tremor running through Phoebe's hand distinctly, and it was taking all of Irma's focus to suppress it.

It was weird, missing two pairs of eyes. Everything seemed somehow flatter, and she had far more blind spots. Phoebe and Celeste covered it the best they could, but 14 was acutely aware of every angle and every single person she couldn't see. Still, the three of them kept a steady watch over their two unconscious 'sisters' towards the back of the plane.

"They will be alright," said Emma, keeping her voice as low and neutral as she could, keeping her body language as calm as possible, her mind turned in on itself. What else did you do when you were confronted with five mirrors of your younger self? Five daughters you did not know existed until - what? A day? Two days ago? It seemed both an eternity and a blink of an eye. "There's nothing to indicate they won't soon be awake."

14 turned her mind back in on herself, wrapping it around Celeste, Phoebe, and Irma as tightly as she could. She didn't trust anyone on this plane, but her paranoia for the woman in front of her ran on its own special level. This was the woman who'd somehow been inside her very essence, the core of her being. 14 refused to meet Emma's eyes three times over, although Phoebe did keep her in the corner of her eye.

"It's... weird." The word she wanted, she knew, was still locked in Sophie's head, so she adapted. "It's quiet without them."

"I imagine it is," replied Emma. "You seem very... close."

Obviously. "We're sisters," Phoebe said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. It may as well have been. "We've been in each others heads for as long as any of us can remember. We even sleep at the same time."

"Well, with obvious exceptions," Irma muttered into her knees from her spot on the floor.

Celeste met Emma's eyes. "When something like that goes missing, it's hard not to notice."

Emma leaned back for a while, looking thoughtfully at the three identical young women in front of her, as they just as thoughtfully didn't look back at her. "That probably explains... what happened," she murmured. "When you were reaching out and found me."

"Probably," Celeste agreed. The less said about that incident, the better.

"Do you know why you were there?" asked Emma. "What they were planning to do to you? Who they were?"

She was back in the tube. Beep. Beep. A scalpel, shining in the blinding light of an overhead lamp. The smell of disinfectant burning at her throat. She blinks, and she's back in the plane.

A quick, discrete glance at herselves and she's aware that her pupils are slightly blown, but she's otherwise unaffected by the flashback.

"No," Phoebe says quietly. "Not a clue."

"We do think we have a clue," replied Emma. "We're also fairly certain that we were walking into a trap. Now," she tapped at her lower lip, "either that trap didn't spring or, more likely, we were supposed to take the bait. I am perfectly willing to accept that you are an innocent victim in all of this. But that doesn't mean that you aren't dangerous." Emma smiled suddenly. "I'm dangerous. And you are five of me."

Three heads snapped Emma's direction, eyes suddenly glowing bright pink. "We are not you."

Emma shrugged. "A geneticist might argue," she responded. "And believe me, I am no more thrilled about the situation than you are. Someone stole me." There was a sudden raging anger in Emma's voice that was gone as quickly as it flared. "But it wasn't you that did it." Emma looked away from the women in front of her for a moment. "I am not the best person to talk to you about this. I doubt either of us are particularly rational about this situation."

Phoebe returned to pacing. Irma pulled her knees up tighter, and Celeste turned back to look at her 'sisters'. The faster Emma left and 14 could claw herself out of the uncanny valley, the better.

"Then," she muttered, "I suppose we're done here."

"For now, yes," responded Emma. "But I'm taking you back to my home. If that proves unwise..." Emma stopped herself, took a deep breath and turned and walked away.