Chapter Text
It took them two months to track down Rumi.
An unforgivable amount of time in Mira's opinion.
Alarms rang throughout the facility as Mira marched forward like an avenging angel, Zoey and Celine flanking her, weapons out.
Hunters' weapons were not supposed to be used on humans. But surely the Honmoon would forgive them, given the circumstances.
A scientist tried to run past her, carrying a stack of papers.
Zoey's shin-kal flew down the hallway, neatly slicing his Achilles tendon.
The scientist collapsed, pages scattering along the floor.
Mira grabbed him by the lab coat, slamming him into a wall, his ribs crunching under the force of the blow.
"Where is she?" She growled, baring her teeth in a snarl.
"Where's who?" He sputtered, struggling feebly in her grip.
Zoey pressed a shin-kal to his neck. "You know exactly who we're talking about. Where the hell is Rumi?"
The scientist's pupils constricted with fear. Good. Let him know just how much danger he was in.
"The subject is in the holding cells. Take the first left in the hallway."
The subject? The subject?
Fury seared through Mira.
Rumi wasn't a subject.
A clean blow across the jaw dropped the scientist. Mira let him collapse onto the floor, not particularly caring if he was injured by the fall.
"To the left then," Celine stated flatly, icy demeanor cracking slightly. Metal sickles caught the red lights, giving the appearance of being stained in blood.
With their luck, they probably would be soon.
Zoey and Mira nodded sharply. As much as they wanted to reap vengeance on the scientists, it could wait.
Rumi was the only thing that mattered.
Emergency lighting cast the hallway in red, as the continued forward, Mira taking point.
Her gok-do make quick work of the locked door marking the start of the holding cells.
The smell of decay hit her nose as soon as the door swung open.
And when she stepped forward, more scents joined the mix: iron, bleach, and bile.
This couldn't have all come from Rumi.
Right?
Not in two months.
Unless they were too late. Unless the only thing left for them to find was a corpse.
No. Mira mentally shook herself. She would know if Rumi was dead. The Honmoon had stitched their souls together. She and Zoey would have felt it if something happened.
(The one point of relief in the past two months had been Celine informing them - in no uncertain terms - when a Hunter died, her soulbonds would know.)
Brick walls surrounded sturdy metal doors with slats cut at the base, presumably to slide food trays under. No windows. No bars.
Mira swallowed thickly, shoving her gok-do into the deadbolt of the first door, revealing the inside of the cell.
It was empty.
This was going to take longer than they had time for.
Zoey and Celine had stepped away from Mira, venturing farther down the row of holding cells.
"Here," Celine called. "This one."
She'd stopped about halfway down the hallway, staring at the floor in front of the cell door.
"What makes you say that?"
Wordlessly, Celine gestured at a small drain in front of the door, still wet with a red liquid.
Mira didn't ask any more questions, just slammed her gok-do into the lock.
This time when the door swung open, it revealed a figure curled on the ground.
Rumi.
Chains bound her wrists and ankles together. A thick metal collar wrapped around her throat, another chain attaching it to the floor. A muzzle, tight enough she probably wouldn't even be able to speak, cut into her face. Bloodstains covered her clothing. Her patterns were a dull purple-black, as if they were trying to avoid notice.
But she was breathing. Slow, ragged, and shallow, but breathing nonetheless.
Celine was in motion first, crossing the threshold into the cell, fingers stopping just shy of Rumi's face, trying to find a place that wasn't covered in injuries.
"Rumi?" The words sounded like shattered glass coming out of Celine's mouth.
One gold eye pulled itself open, the other too swollen to move.
Fear flashed across Rumi's face when she registered she wasn't alone.
But instead of jerking away, trying to fight, any of the things the Rumi Mira knew would have done, she went limp, shaking, a small whimper making its way past the muzzle.
"Hey, hey. Rumi, it's alright. It's us," Mira tried, crouching in front of her girlfriend. "You're safe now. We're getting out of here."
Zoey pulled another shin-kal out of the Honmoon, preparing to sever Rumi's binds. "It's going to be alright. We've got you."
But as the knife entered Rumi's field of vision, she flinched, chain attached to the floor going taught as she reared back, a choked sound filling the cell when the collar bit into her throat.
Rumi's breathing quickened, pupil narrowing into a slit with fear.
Fuck.
Fuck.
The longer Rumi stayed chained like this, the more likely she was to hurt herself, but trying to free her would absolutely cause more distress.
Lesser of two evils. Mira thought, stepping around Zoey. She slammed her gok-do into the point where the chains on Rumi's wrists and ankles met, then severed the chain attached to the floor.
Suddenly free, Rumi scrambled away, back hitting the wall of the cell.
"Rumi," Mira tried again. "Do you recognize us?"
Nothing. If anything Rumi's breathing got quicker, fully passing into hyperventilation.
"Rumi." Celine stepped forward, leaving her sickles on the floor. "It's me. It-it's Eomma."
The title startled Mira. It was accurate, they all knew it.
But it was one of those truths Rumi and Celine never spoke aloud.
Rumi blinked, gold eye fading back to brown.
Then, without warning, she leaned forward into Celine, tears streaming down her face, shaking like a leaf.
Celine barely caught Rumi, whispering assurances into her hair, before picking her up into an embrace, chains hanging loosely in the air.
Wordlessly, Mira and Zoey adjusted their grip on their weapons, flanking Celine as they stepped out of the cell.
Hunters' weapons were not supposed to be used on humans. But the Honmoon would forgive any transgression that occurred tonight.
Anything for one of its chosen.
~~~~
There was not a traffic law in existence Bobby didn't break while driving back to Huntr/x tower. Maybe going to a hospital would have been smarter, but they had their own medical team on standby who wouldn't ask questions.
Zoey twisted her lock picks in one of the shackles on Rumi. Tumblers shifted under her delicate touch, the lock finally springing open, revealing weeping sores.
The carefully maintained box Zoey had placed all of her emotions in strained at the sight of them. Those were the kinds of injuries animals got trying desperately to escape captivity.
She forced her breathing to steady, fingers digging into the seat leather as Bobby rounded a corner sharply, causing them all to jostle.
"Sorry," He said, tensely.
Celine waved him off, readjusting her grip on Rumi, who had passed out sometime between the holding cell and the car.
Which meant she wasn't conscious for Zoey prying the cuffs off her limbs, or studying the muzzle and collar.
Small mercies.
Zoey licked her lips, tracing a finger across the collar, searching for the lock.
It shifted when Bobby slowed down, riding up to reveal burn patches.
She gasped, jolting back.
"What is it?" Mira was by her side in an instant, abandoning her job of surveillance to ensure they weren't followed.
"It's a shock collar." Zoey felt like there was water between her brain and her mouth. She was saying words, but not fully comprehending them.
They'd put a shock collar on Rumi. And by the size of those patches, used it liberally. They'd taken a third of her soul and muzzled and collared her like a feral animal.
"Fuck," Mira spat. "I'm going to kill them."
It was truly a sign of how bad the situation was that Celine didn't chastise Mira for her language.
"I'm scared to remove it," Zoey admitted, shoving her violent desires into the box in the back of her mind. "They might have tampered with it somehow. A fail safe if she ever got it off."
"Dammit," Mira's fingers hovered just over Rumi's face. "She deserves wake up without all this shit on her."
"She does. But she also deserves to not be shocked again."
Mira gritted her teeth, tracing the straps of the muzzle. "I think we can get this off. The clasps don't look tampered with.
Zoey nodded, grabbing a smaller rake and turning tool from her lock picking kit.
When the muzzle finally came loose, it was like the pressure in the car lessened tenfold.
Metal clattered as Zoey dropped the horrible contraption to the ground, studying Rumi's face, now that it was free.
Angry red lines crossed over her nose and down her cheeks. Cheeks that were hollow and sunken. Her lips were bitten raw, blood crusted around them.
Fuck.
Zoey gently threaded her fingers with Rumi's, ignoring the way her nails were torn ragged, like they'd been dragged down stone.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner."
Tears splattered onto the seat cushion, the box in the back of Zoey's mind finally cracking open.
Not completely. No, she would ensure that only happened when Rumi was safely back home. Then and only then would she allow herself to have her breakdown.
But it cracked enough for Zoey to whisper apologies into Rumi's hand, even as Mira pressed against her side, also crying, and Celine blinked rapidly.
Buildings whizzed passed outside the car windows, yet for this moment, time stood still.
~~~~
Something was different.
Awareness sparked in her brain, senses slowly returning.
She was lying on a horizontal surface. Never a good sign.
Pain, pain, pain. Blades digging into her flesh. Restraints keeping her pinned. Screaming. Knowing it wouldn't help but being unable to tame that animal instinct nonetheless. 'Would someone shut it up.' Needle to the neck. Can't move, can't move, can't move.
But she was lying on something. Not curled into a ball in her cell.
Come to think of it, she couldn't feel the chains biting into her wrists and ankles. Nor padded cuffs in their place.
She swallowed, dry throat making it near impossible. She still had her the collar.
No muzzle though. They only removed the muzzle during feeding time these days.
The world still smelled sterile, faint wisps of bleach hanging in the air, mingling with blood.
Now sure she wouldn't be able to determine any more information with her eyes closed, she tugged open her one good eye.
In front of her was a scientist. Back to her, white lab coat a herald of danger, of pain.
She couldn't stop her instinctual flinch backward, rhythmic beeping she'd turned into white noise picking up.
"Oh. You're awake." The scientist turned to face her.
Her breathing quickened. She wasn't restrained. She wasn't wearing her the muzzle. There was only one scientist.
This had to be a trap. A trick. Some sort of sick, twisted mind game. Make her think she had a shot at escape.
The collar around her throat was evidence enough she'd never make it far.
She tumbled off the bed, machines shrieking as she tore the IVs free in her panic.
Get them out of me, get them out of me. I don't want more drugs in me. Stop it. Stop it.
Her eyes darted to corners of the room, looking for an escape.
"Hey. Let's not do that." The scientist raised his hands in a placating motion. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Oh that was the sort of game they were playing?
She forced herself to bare her fangs, blood dribbling down her lips as the gashes tore open again. A growl rattled out of her throat, dry and shaky, but a growl regardless.
You want to treat me like a monster? Fine. You're getting a monster.
The scientist who had been slowly approaching her stumbled back, fear flashing in his eyes.
While he was off balance, she shoved passed him, stumbling down the sunlit hallway.
Wait what? She'd never seen a window her entire time in the facility.
Familiar hallways blurred together. She didn't know where she was running, only that she had to keep moving. Maybe she would be able to get outside before her the collar sparked to life this time.
Someone shouted behind her, so she ran faster, muscles that hadn't been allowed to stretch in too long burning.
Pain rocked through her, so suddenly she thought her the collar had been activated. But no, it was her own stupid lungs. Seizing as she forced them to work harder than they were capable.
She tumbled to the ground, sobs wracking her body.
Why? Why were they doing this? Why give her hope, when they had to know she wasn't strong enough? To break her further? Wasn't she broken enough?
A word was said. Softly, achingly tender.
A word she hadn't heard in she didn't know how long.
Pink filled her vision, still blurry with tears.
That was impossible. She couldn't be here.
This was another trick.
The word was said again, by another person.
Another figure joined the person-who-couldn't-be-her.
Yet another impossibility.
Neither of them could be here.
"-hear me?" The pink impossibility was saying. "Give me a sign if you can?"
She didn't want to. Didn't want to feel that hope flicker and die if this was a trick.
But she wouldn't be able to live with herself if it wasn't and she didn't try.
She tapped her claws on the floor, Honmoon flickering to life under her touch in a way it hadn't in far, far too long.
The pink impossibility drummed her own fingers on the Honmoon in response.
Wait.
She blinked (or was it winked with only one working eye?). No scientist would be able to call upon the Honmoon.
Which meant…
Them being here was still an impossibility.
Then she wasn't there anymore.
"Mira?" She asked, desperation flooding into her voice. "Zoey?"
"It's us." Mira extended a hand. Not quite touching her, but close enough for her to feel the heat.
"You're safe," Zoey assured. "You're out. And you're never going back."
She wasn't there.
She got out.
They'd come for her.
They'd found her.
She burst into a fresh round of tears, pulling her girls, pulling Mira and Zoey into her, not caring how the movement strained her injuries.
And Rumi sobbed into their chests until her tears ran dry.