Wash That Out

Pacing back and forth, the sound of her metal boots echoed across the stone floors and walls of the hollowed-out mountain she had claimed as her residence.

Clang, clang, clang.

She was counting under her breath; taking inventory as the small green crab watched on.

“Is it enough?” She paused and looked again inside one of the chests for what must have been the hundredth time.

“No. Possibly..?”

Clang, clang, clang.

The crab began to imitate her, scuttling side to side.

Clang, clang, clang.

Skitter, skitter.

Clang, clang, clang.

“I shouldn’t need much, right? I hopefully needn’t fight while I’m here, but if what the Doctor told me is true and he worries for his safety, then maybe I should be getting more supplies. But these people seem content here, for the most part. Content and community-oriented… save for the non-believers. Certainly, what I have can at least last until I can return… After all, if all goes well then I shouldn’t be here for much longer, anyway.”

But her trembling hands betrayed her. Noticing, she stopped, clutched them, and held them to her chest, taking a deep breath.

“I must be prepared for anything. I don’t know what these people are capable of.”

She looked to Ferdinand, the crab.

“And what if I can’t bring anything back with me… Then what will I do?”

Fight, of course, chimed her subconscious.

Ah, what familiar snark.

“With what weapons?”

Clang, clang, clang.

Skitter, skitter.

Any weapons. Even if it’s just your bare fists.

Clang, clang, clang, clang.

Skitter, skitter, skitter.

“That’s foolish, I could be killed.”

You don’t know what the extent of the threat left on the other side is.

Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.

Skitter, skitter, skitter, skitter.

“If it is as I last remember… I don’t think I’ll be enough. Did I do enough, to begin with? How long has it been? Why can’t I remember the end? Was I enough-”

Skitter, skitter... skitter?

Heavy metal crashed to the floor.

Her hands fell to her side as she crumpled and a beautiful stain of liquid gold danced across her mask, filling her throat. Her subsequent violent coughs scared away the crab friend.

“Calm down. Easy, now, Titan…” That voice wasn’t her own. It was faint and distant in the back of her mind. An older woman’s voice. A gentle, friendly, familiar voice.

She ripped down her mask and gasped for air, the gold tumbling from her lips and seeping through the cracks in the stone floor.

“In. And out. In… and out…”

Through the gold and spit, “G… Godmor…”

“Sometimes it’s good to take a breath or two without that mask.”

Slowly catching her breath, Titan pulled the gauntlet from her right hand and wiped the gold from her chin. She sat there on her knees for a few breaths more, until her breathing returned to normal, then she pulled the stained mask back over her face.

She would need to wash that out.