Transfiguration: Part Two

You can do this, Amelia.

She tried to tell herself, tried to make each glance backwards give her the ounce of hope she needed, but somehow, all it did was grind the anxious feeling deeper into her stomach.

Not 20 feet in front of her, a promise of a cure stood waiting. Amelia could feel the machine humming through the soles of her feet, but that shiny ray of hope she'd been waiting for for countless months was not enough to keep her eyes away from Naomi's gaze. Naomi had always been her rock, the strong one she could cling to no matter what stood in their way--but today, even Naomi's face was shrouded with worry.

It wasn't that Amelia wasn't excited about the prospect of finally having freedom. It was the prospect of what would happen should this fail.

Behind the glass, Moe was troubled with some worries of his own.

"Brad, this is dangerous... you're still weak, you should be resting. Is there no way I can talk you into--"

"Drop it, Moe," Brad said with a groan. "For the last time, I feel fine. Besides, I'm not trusting my sister's safety to anyone else. I'm the only one who knows what they're doing--you need me here."

Overhearing their conversation wasn't doing anything for Naomi's nerves.

Even though Naomi knew it would probably be fruitless, she had to say something. "Do you think she's going to be alright?" she turned and asked Alesha, biting her lower lip.

Alesha, unsure of what else to say but the truth, responded with a soft, "I really don't know... but if you can trust anyone to do this right, it's Brad." She lifted her hand and rested it gently on Naomi's shoulder. "And if Amelia's certain she wants to do this, then I guess we just have to have faith it'll work."

In reality, Amelia wasn't sure whether she wanted to do this, but at the back of her mind one thought kept haunting her: if she had to choose between spending the rest of her life in prison, or risk her life for a chance to be with Naomi again, there was no choice.

There was a soft tap on the glass behind them--a moment later, a gruff voice behind her announced, "It's time."

She steadied herself, then took her first foot forward. Breathe in. Step. Breathe out. Step.

I can do this, she told herself in her mind.
I can do this.
I can do this.
"I can do this!!"

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Lamont looked at Lilobot through the corner of his eye, but she was so distracted that she didn't even hear him. "She's beautiful," Lilobot said, almost giggling in her delight. "Or... I guess, I'm beautiful!"

"Yeah, but--Lil, you're already beautiful... In a different way, yeah, but--"

"You cannot talk me out of it, Lamont." Lilobot turned to look at him, adamantly shaking her head every time he gave her a pleading glance. "I need this. There is no way you could know how much unless you were me."

"I know, Lil, it's just..." Lamont looked through window on the door, then back at the simbot--the girl--in front of him. "Even if this works, there's a huge likelihood that a lot of information will be lost in the transfer. You could lose your memories, pieces of who you are..."

Lilobot shook her head again. If she was anything, she was stubborn. "I do not care. You cannot see it, Lamont, but I am already losing who I am in my unhappiness. I would trade all my memories for a chance to start over."

"B--"

"And there is nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. This is my choice. You respect that, right?"

"I... yes." Lamont sighed, then reluctantly leaned to his right and pushed the heavy metal door open for both of them. "After you."

Lilobot stood as stoic as an oak tree as Lamont connected the cables to her circuitry. "It is funny," she said cheerfully as she looked at the lifeless body laying on the table in front of her. "I always wanted hair like that."

"I know," Lamont chuckled as he walked away. "That's why I gave her that color. You wouldn't shut up about mine."

He let Lilobot get out her giggles before he raised his hands to the dials, sending her one last pleading glance before it was too late. "You... ready?"

"Yeah," Lilobot said, feeling the brows of her metal face wiggle for the last time. "Let's do this."

"This is such a bad idea," Margo whimpered.

The face in the mirror looked like a fake copy of herself, and she didn't like it much. Before her parents had gone out for the night, Margo convinced her mom to do up her hair and makeup for a 'tea party' with Pixie and company. Her mother had the best intentions, but Margo couldn't help but feel the look she'd been going for was lost somewhere underneath the pound of blush and hairspray.

Unfortunately, her mother didn't know the real reason Margo needed to look pretty tonight. Maybe she'd have tried harder if she had--but it was too late.

She was already running out of time.

"They're starting already?!" Margo gasped as she heard the loud snap of fireworks outside her window. As the light from it sparkled across the sky, she quickly dashed out of the bathroom, whisking herself outside to her bike so fast that everything seemed to blur together the moment she stepped foot on Twinbrook's beach.

Every year, the Twinbrook Society for Unnecessary Celebration put together an annual fireworks show to try to liven up the town, and this year was no exception. Usually it meant that every public place was jam-packed with people, but a little bird (aka, Kenzie) had discovered that this year, the Pesce family was holding a massive barbeque on their lake-front property.

This meant two things: 1) most of the town would be drawn to the free food, leaving everywhere else nice and empty, and 2) Ian Pesce would be doing anything possible to not be home that night.

It was so perfect an opportunity, even Margo had the courage to do something about it.

She didn't have to walk more than two steps down the stairs to spot him. "I-Ian?"

Ian turned at the sound of her voice; his face fell instantly. "Ugh, really? It was you that sent me that note?"

"I... Yeah. I'm sorry, I just--I didn't know how else to get you  here."

Ian rolled his eyes. "That was pretty low--especially for you." However, something about that intrigued him. A lot. So, instead of following his gut reaction and walking away, he turned about and asked, "So, what do you want?"

Margo took a deep breath. "I..." Gulp. She'd rehearsed this a dozen times this morning, and even more in her head as her mother had tweaked and tossled her hair, but all the words suddenly fell flat when she saw that annoyed snivel--oh, that snivel!--on his face mere feet away from her.

"Spit it out already," he groaned, toeing the sand with his boot.

"Ihavesomethingtogiveyou," she gasped, heaving in a breath quickly after she realized the words had practically vomitted from her mouth.

"Oh, and you actually think I'm gonna take it? After how you reacted when I tried to give you something?" Ian looked up and away, pursing his lips together in anger. "You're mental."

"Just--just gimme a chance, Ian? I..." Margo walked closer and closer, her body awkwardly fumbling to each side as she waddled across the sand to him. "I know I'm not perffick, and I'm... I'm really really sorry."

Ian's eyes suddenly turned back towards her. "You're sorry," he responded with annoyance.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I mean... I even got all pretty tonight, just for you." She lowered her hands to flatten out the creases in her dress.

"Really? You look like a--" Ian stopped himself; even he knew that that was going too far.

Still... when he looked into her eyes, the sincerity in them melted away his preconceptions. She wasn't perfect, no--but there was something about her that wouldn't let him be cruel. "You look... good."

"You think so? I thought it might be too much--"

"No, it's fine--"

"I mean, I just wanted to--"

Margo froze. She felt so... odd. Even being close to Josh, in all his cuteness and sweetness and hair-flipping goodness had never felt like this--and it felt right. Even Ian, staring at the reflection of fireworks dancing across Margo's eyes, felt something he never had before.

But as quickly as that spark came to life, it was shot down.

"Ewww, they're kissing!"

"No we weren't, retards," Ian growled as he spotted the source of the voice, but it took Margo a moment longer to realize who he was talking to. She wheeled around so fast, she almost toppled over onto the sand.

Even Ian's retort couldn't save her from total embarassment. "Oh no," she whispered, horrified.

The de Wynters. Not one--not two--four of them. With how often Daisy herself harassed her, Margo tended to forget that she was only one of several: two sets of twins that all hated her existence. She'd never seen them all in one place before, though. And before, they had only scared her. Now, they terrified her.

"Whatever--doesn't matter," the meanest--Jackson--snapped back at Ian as Margo began to stumble back behind him. "Just get outta here. We don't got issues with you--we just want her."

"Why?"

"Why's it matter? We're just here to give her what's been coming to her--but if you really wanna prove you weren't kissin' her, you're welcome to join in."

"I don't give a rat's butt what you think, Jackson. Leave her alone!"

"Fine then, loser! Guess we'll just have to deal with you, too!"

They'd done it, now. Ian could feel the fury glazing over his eyes as he pushed his sleeves up even further, readying himself for the inevitable that was coming.

He had a choice: he could back off, walk away, and let them have what they want. But today, there was something more important than what he wanted. Skating by wasn't enough, anymore. Not when Margo was willing to be brave for him. "Oh, you are so freaking dead!"

The four of them suddenly started to have second thoughts. Jackson began, "Wait, you don't have to--"

"Oh yes I do! You asked for it, spitwad--get ready to die!"

---

Montage Music <- Clicky

---

"Mia--Mia... You're--"

The words became lost in her throat. Naomi searched Amelia's face for one sign that this was somehow not real, but it was--her eyes were their normal lavender hue, her smile had no tell of fangs, and her skin was rosey and alive again. Besides the orange jumpsuit, everything about Amelia was back to how it had been years before. Perfect, and beautiful.

"I was so afraid I'd lost you," Naomi gasped as she held Amelia even tighter, her arms shaking.

"You never did, Naomi," Mia smiled, burying her tears in her lover's shoulder. "But... I think I'm ready to come home."

Everything had changed.

She knew it wasn't real--not as real as it was for humans--but everything sure seemed real. The way the air tasted in her mouth, the way the table felt cold under her skin. Her skin.

Lamont, still awestruck that he'd done something right for once, simply watched in silence as Lilobot 2.0 stood from the table and looked around the room--and saw herself. Her old self.

"You were good to me," she said lightly to the husk, the thing that was her but now not-her. "But do not hold it against me that I will not miss you." She touched it, feeling for the first time how others had felt her. She smiled, knowing that no one would see this way ever again.

"It is... It's... time, for my real life to begin."

"They're--they're all--you--"

Ian clapped his hands together, as if wiping them clean of what he'd just done. Behind him, three de Wynter children laid defeated--all but Whitney, who had cowardly run off at the first sign of trouble. Margo occasionally heard the others groan, but they did not move. They weren't dead as Ian had threatened, but they certainly seemed like it.

"They're taken care of," Ian said triumphantly, even kicking a little sand in Daisy's face for good measure. "That'll teach 'em to leave you alone!"

Ian walked closer, but as he did, Margo flinched away. His face quickly fell; he reached out to her, but he really knew something was wrong when she moved away yet again.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"You--you hurt all of them because of me."

"So?"

"I... I didn't want anyone to get hurt--and I didn't... I didn't know you could... you hurt them really bad, Ian."

Ian was at a loss--he didn't understand. Why was she saying this?! He defended her! Wasn't she always rambling on about a white knight coming to her rescue? Didn't she realize that that's what knights did--hurt people? "I thought that's what you wanted, Margo. I thought you wanted them to leave you alone."

"I... I..." Margo gulped. Yes, it was--but it wasn't until she saw it right before her eyes that she knew just how wrong it was. She didn't know, until now, just how strong Ian was. Whatever he could do to them, he could do to her.

She had never been more horrified in her life.

"You're... a monster..." she whispered softly, sending a chill up both their spines.

"Wait! MARGO, WAIT!!" Ian took a few steps after her, but it was clear that this time, she wanted nothing less than for him to follow her--and at the speed she ran, there was no way he'd catch her, anyways.

"Margo..."

His gaze fell to the slightly stirring kids laying on the ground. As he looked at them, he saw something that wasn't there before; a letter. Must've fell out of her pocket, he grumbled to himself as he picked it up off the ground.

His opening of the letter was unceremonious and angry, almost tearing the letter in half in his haste to get it  out. When he finally held it open in his hands, he read it again... and again... and again, in disbelief.

Dear Ian--
I know you might not like me anymore, but I really wanted you to know that no matter what, I will always like you. I might not show it very well, but it's only because I'm scared. I'm trying to change, though. I want to change, because of you. If I can change and be more brave, I know that somewhere deep inside you can change for the better, too. You won't have to do much, because all the pieces are already there. Everyone else can't see it, but I can. I know you're already a good person. I believe in you.

Sincerely,

Margo May

Anger swelled within him. Before he knew what he was doing, the note was already in shreds and falling in pieces to the sand.

Above him, the fireworks resumed, unfettered by what had happened on the beach that night. Every pop and sizzle stung deeper and deeper inside Ian's chest, until all that was left was hatred. At the de Wynters, for managing to ruin everything in their path. At Margo, for so quickly dismissing what he'd done for her. At Mrs. Kane, for all the promises she'd made, now broken. But they all paled in comparison to the hatred for himself.

He couldn't escape it: everything he did, failed. Every faith and hope others put in him had so far been wasted and pointless. Before, they had done everything they could do to tell him he was wrong, but now? Now, he had proof. Everything he touched ends up broken.

Margo had faith that he could change: but whether that change would be for better or worse, now, only time would tell.