Trinity stuck her head into the concrete pipe, calling out a quick hello, only to hear her voice bounce off an abundance of walls. She continued to look through the pipe, unable to see anything, her hand touching the bottom. She pulled away in shock. It wasn't just a dark metal pipe. There was concrete and mud and water. And it made her skin crawl. All of it – the dark, the smell. Stepping away, she felt her stomach drop with fear. The electric crawl was not something she could do. She had done this before, in her real life, in her real struggles, and she wasn't looking to relive it for a grade.
A low murmur from the crowd watching the course filtered into her awareness, a distant hum of excitement and anticipation that somehow made the growing unease within her even sharper. All she could hear in her ears was static as everyone spoke of strategy, of how they would complete the task. But she couldn't hear any of them. She couldn't focus on anything – not the way they had already started on the next plan, or the wolves who pushed them aside to haphazardly dive into the darkened man-made tunnel.
She was lost in her mind. The world around her began to dissolve, fading into a hazy, indistinct blur. Sounds became muffled, distant echoes. The vibrant colors of the day bled into a monotone gray, as if a thick, dark veil was slowly descending, pulling her away from the present. The ground beneath her feet felt less real, the solid earth giving way to an unsettling sensation of falling backwards into an abyss of nothingness. She was being pulled away, not physically, but internally, deeper and deeper into the dark, suffocating void. All that remained was the chilling echo of a mantra she had spoken that night: "Crawl, crawl across the concrete. Up the stairs. Pass the bottles. Don't make a noise. Up the steps, out the window. Down the pipe. Through the grass. Keep going, keep going." The night she had escaped Mickey, they had hidden in a concrete drainage pipe. All she could feel was the damp concrete biting into her knees, the chill of the water, the nauseating smell around her. She had sat in it for hours, waiting for the sun to rise, for people to be back on the street. It was something of her nightmares.
This was different than when anyone else wanted to give up for Trinity. It wasn't a fear of heights, claustrophobia for tight spaces, a healthy fear of the dark or drowning. This was something that couldn't be overcome because someone forced you through it.
She felt herself cracking and breaking and tumbling down into her mind, into her memories, where all she could hear was that stupid mantra she had spoken that night to Jess. The words that kept them going. She wanted just to remember, to keep them in her mind, to not forget. For five nights, when they lay on the cold concrete, surrounded by their own filth, she would say the words over and over again to Jess, because she knew once they started, they wouldn't be able to speak.
"Crawl, crawl across the concrete. Up the stairs. Pass the bottles. Don't make a noise. Up the steps, out the window. Down the pipe. Through the grass. Keep going, keep going."
Without notice, she had started mouthing the words silently to herself, unable to stop.
Jess was the first to notice. The way Trinity had pulled away, when she stopped talking or helping, and that glazed look took over her eyes. Trying not to be noticed, she walked over to Trinity, turning her away from the group so they wouldn't see. She noticed Trinity's lips moving slowly, over and over and over again, but she couldn't hear a word.
"Trin?" Jess questioned her lowly, wondering what had happened. As if recognition had sparked in her eyes, Trinity clasped Jess's hands in a vice-like grip.
Whispering the words just as low as she had done when they were in the basement, "Crawl, crawl across the concrete. Up the stairs. Pass the bottles. Don't make a noise. Up the steps, out the window. Down the pipe. Through the grass. Keep going, keep going."
Jess's eyes looked back to the pipe, and she instantly understood. She felt bad for Trinity. Trinity was taking the worst of it for her.
Mickey loved to torture her, to torment her, to break her. And he had. Jess understood that she had gotten off easy comparatively. She could forget, push those memories to the darkest recess of her mind, to lock them away to the point where it felt like it was someone else, so she'd be able to smile and laugh and be normal. Trin could never do it. She could never force those smiles, because Mickey wasn't just scarring her skin, he was disassembling her mind.
"Crawl, crawl across the concrete. Up the stairs. Pass the bottles. Don't make a noise. Up the steps, out the window. Down the pipe. Through the grass. Keep going, keep-"
Jess cut her off. "Keep going, we're almost home." She finished for her, reminding her that they had made it.
Slowly, Trinity nodded her head, as if coming out of some weird trance. She wasn't in the basement. They weren't trying to escape. They had made it home.
"Don't give up yet," Jess pleaded with her, slowly guiding her back to the group.
Ryan's eyes connected with Jess's, and she shook her head. It wasn't the time.
Boris's brows creased as he worried over his daughter. Something was wrong. Her scent was acidic. And she was mouthing something without sound. When he could hear her, her words didn't make any sense. But it was all she had said, all she would say. He wondered if it was about her life before. He still wanted to know what had happened.
Once all of them were in the pipes, the only one left was Trinity. She stood at the entrance, looking in, before sitting cross-legged in front of the entrance. But she didn't make a move. Each defective called out when they had reached a dead end, announcing they'd be coming back. Others proclaiming that they were still moving forward and needed someone to join there too because of a split. They communicated their way through, calling out to each other one after another.
While Trinity still sat at the beginning, he wasn't sure if she was unable or just unwilling to enter. But whatever it was, she didn't move an inch.
"Why isn't she moving?" Thomas asked his Beta. "Beta Carter," he added at the last moment, remembering that he had forgotten to use his title.
"She's done." Boris didn't know his daughter well yet, but he was beginning to learn her. The things that scared her, terrified her. If she could be brave, she would be as bold as anyone. But whatever fear was in her mind, it oftentimes made her freeze. And she was not willing to fight through it.
Trinity listened as they all spoke to one another, letting each other know who was on the right path. Before long, she could hear them say, "I'm through," calling out to those who were still lagging behind. She smiled at their success, standing back to her feet.
When she rose, she could see them at the other side. She waved, before walking to the edge of the course. She wouldn't go through the tube. She couldn't make it past this obstacle.
"What the fuck?"
"She hasn't come through?"
"Why did she give up?"
Only Jess and Ryan remained silent. They didn't have any questions. They knew her well.
"Keep going!" Trinity called out to them.
Walking along the grass, she followed them at the edges of the boundary to the next part of the course, smiling to them happily. She couldn't hear their words, but she assumed they were a bit pissed, if not just outright angry at her in general. She never let any of them give up, but she gave up silently. Not a regret was in her stomach. But she knew she wasn't ready. This was just the first time they did this course. Maybe she would be ready later.
"Can't believe she gave up," Mona said, her belief and adoration towards Trinity diminishing. She was her new role model, and she'd given up on day one. Mona felt a little silly for believing in someone so easily.
"She's kind of the one guiding us through this. I mean, should we just call it?" Timothy asked, unsure if they could make it without her.
"There's not much left, we should be able to finish this even without Trinity," Jess sighed in irritation. This team was not just one person. Other people would come up with ideas. They shouldn't just give up.
Ryan kept looking over to Trinity. He didn't really care about the course. He had a feeling he could have made it this far, if not further, with or without the team. He'd rather slow down, so his friends could catch up.
"This is your first time. Most fail to complete this course the first time," he spoke louder than necessary, hoping it would reach Trinity's ears.
Trinity felt her mind fog for a moment. The sinking sensation landing on her shoulders, before she lost her vision. Stumbling to her knees, her breath came in hard, shallow gasps.
"What's happening?" Boris saw her fall. Using his wolf speed, he managed to get to her in a few seconds, holding her head gently, unsure what was happening.
Trinity couldn't help it. The burning sensation on her back kept getting worse and worse, until finally she screamed.
Unlike before, when Boris had thought he'd seen a gleam of gold in her eyes, this time he was sure. He was momentarily shocked in place as he saw his daughter's eyes turn from their once vibrant blue to a brilliant gold, the color of her wolf's eyes. Trinity was 23 years old, far past the typical age of two when a wolf's true form emerged. The suddenness and intensity of it, coupled with her pain, was alarming.
In her state of pain, she rolled her body until her chest met the ground, clawing the earth, begging for it to stop.
"Please!" Trinity screamed at the top of her lungs. Boris felt his heart race as he was kicked back into action. Her wolf was emerging, but it shouldn't come with this kind of pain. Lifting her into his arms, he ran at full speed towards the pack hospital, sending a mental message to Alana.
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