[psl] alternate elevator rescue resolution (severance 2x10 spoilers)

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[psl] alternate elevator rescue resolution (severance 2x10 spoilers)

Mark's an innie. He has no way or reason to know about trigger discipline. When he holds the man in the elevator, his finger is at the ready to shoot as he does his best to be threatening. He's still talking when the elevator dings.

He comes back to awareness, as always, to another elevator ding. But this time, things are different from the usual. There's a coppery scent in his nostrils, his eyes are closed, and there's moisture and pressure against his mouth. He'd known that he was going down to rescue his outie's wife, but he hadn't really...expected this.

He opens his eyes. Yes, those are Ms. Casey's lips pressed against his, and he's covered in blood.

He probably should have realized this would happen.

He pulls back. There isn't much room to do so here in the elevator. So he doesn't back all the way up to the wall—he's kind of supporting the weight of the woman he's holding—but pulls his face back and grimaces.

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The last time she came up here, she was stopped by Mr. Milchick who gently, yet sternly, turned her around and forced her back into the elevator. No matter how begrudgingly she moved, she was still forced back in.

When the elevator chimed this time, her eyes were closed, and she could smell something that smelled like metal. There was something warm in her hands and against her lips, and it almost felt comforting if she knew what it was.
Opening her eyes, she watched as the man in front of her pulled away.

“Mark?”

There he was, Mark S. The man who had been so kind to her on the day of her resignation from Wellness Director. He was covered in blood—not her blood, she quickly realized, as she didn’t feel hurt—and he looked very uncomfortable. But he was still holding her.

“What is occurring?” she spoke calmly, very confused. He seemed to know more than her. He had this look in his eyes like he knew something, and could probably explain it to her. That would be nice.

He doesn't really want to explain. It would be easier not to have to explain. Part of him intends to do just that, just lead her to the stairwell and let his outie explain it once they're outside.

"We've got to—"

He takes her hand just before the elevator doors go to close and leads her back out of it, into the hallway. He starts leading her away, hurriedly, because the people in the subbasement are going to be coming up as soon as it reaches the bottom.

But the part of him that wants not to explain doesn't win out. It's going to take rushed words and yelling as they run, but he's going to pant out an explanation as best he can.

"You're an innie, like me," he says. Should she slow, at that, he won't let her, he determines. He continues to run. "Your name isn't Ms. Casey. It's Gemma Scout. You're..."

He swallows, panting. He doesn't really want to spit this out, not here, not now. But does he owe that to her? Should he make sure she's aware, just in case they force her outie to return?

"You're my outie's wife."

Mrs. Casey looked down at their hands, a strange twist in her stomach at the feeling. It wasn’t one she could explain, but it wasn’t uncommon that she was around Mark S. when she had previously felt it. She continued not to question it.

She listened as she was pulled out of the elevator and down the hallway. He seemed to be in a rush. Was something happening?

She ran with him, hand still in his as he listened to the explanation. Well, that much she knew. She just didn’t know who she was on the outside, which was common to those on this floor.

She gasped though, when Mark told her she wasn’t Mrs Casey, but apparently Gemma Scout. It was a pretty name, but it couldn’t have been hers? Mark seemed very hell-bent that it was, though.

“Your..” she began, not being able to wrap her head around that. Was that why they had their mouths pressed together in the elevator? Was that why she always had a funny feeling around him? She could almost imagine it, being married to Mark.

“Is that why we’re running?” She asked next.

"Yes," he exclaims, "yes!"

There's a junction here, and the red flashing lights are confusing him; which way had he come the first time? He looks back and forth before choosing, not entirely sure this is the right way, but feeling the pressing necessity of their impending doom.

In another life, perhaps the one where he hadn't taken the time to explain what was going on, maybe he had chosen correctly. In this one, he does not. Soon he recognizes where they are, and he swears under his breath, a soft 'shit'. That's the little door that leads to the goat enclosures.

Well, this is what they're stuck with, apparently. The goat herders can tell them the way to the stairwell from the doors they use, he decides.

"In here," he says, gesturing into the short doorway. "Watch out when you crawl through, sometimes there's poop."

He stands by waiting for her to stoop, watching for their pursuers in case they're closer than he expected.

She follows close, watching as he looks about before choosing a direction. She had never seen these red flashing lights before, but there had also not been an emergency like this before.

‘Gemma’ watches as he curses under his breath and then tells her to move down into a little door. This still seems very urgent, so she moves quickly to her knees, then climbs through the trap door.

“Poop?” she asked, carefully watching the floor now as she crawled down the miniature hallway.

Upon exiting was another room with a grassy field. And… goats? But then, she recognized where she was. She had liked this department, and she remembered their goats being kind.

He crawls behind her, not bothering to remark about the poop. She'd see it first, if there was any. It's so weird to be in this tunnel again under these circumstances—at least there aren't any beacons here in this tunnel. The alarms are blaring loudly, still, though.

When they enter the enclosure, the goats seem perturbed by the flashing lights and klaxons. They're bleating and crowding their keepers, and the keepers are staring daggers at the two of them as they enter.

"Hey," Mark says, putting his hands up and approaching the one who seemed to be in charge last time he was here, the stocky blonde with the braids. "It's me again. We need you to hide us. Or help us to leave."

She gazes at him with suspicion, as she had done the last time, but it's a bit softer this time. Her tall frame straightens, and she nods, one quick upward motion of her head. "Follow me."

Mark comes up beside Ms. Casey (for she's still that in his mind, despite knowing that she's really Gemma Scout). "Come on," he urges, "we can trust her."

Mrs. Casey watched as Mark held his hands up to signify the fact that he wasn’t a danger to them. Then she turned her head towards the matron when she spoke.

She brushed her hands off on her pants, reaching for Mark’s hand again. “So we don’t get separated,” she explained gently, but she knew herself it was much more than that. It was more on helping her imagine that this man indeed was her husband on the outside.

Then she nodded, following the matron with Mark’s hand in hers, not needing much more encouragement. He was urgent on getting her out and she knew that.

He doesn't really need the explanation, but his reaction is to stare at Ms. Casey for a moment before taking her hand. This is what makes sense, it's what they need to do, but does he really have feelings for Ms. Casey? Is this what he really wants to do?

The matron leads them into the hall and turns left, leading them down a couple of corridors, toward a large stockroom and what looks like an elevator door, but is much larger than any such thing Mark has ever seen.

"This is the freight elevator we get their feed in," the matron explains. "It goes up and down at scheduled times. We are due for a delivery in 15 minutes. You'll need to find a way to sneak onto it."

Mark nods, his expression going grim. The stock room leading into the elevator has a few bales of hay in it. He releases Ms. Casey's hand to stack and move them until the two of them can hide behind the hay.

Soon enough, he's got an arrangement of bales he's satisfied with and gestures for her.

"Let's hide back here."

She listens as the matron explains what they need to do and she nods, acknowledging that the matron was heard. Then, she watches as Mark arranges the bails in the large elevator.

She wished that she could help him, but he wasn’t exactly communicating what ideas he had in mind. So she decided to just watch and wait for him to ask for help or to hide.

That didn’t take much longer, and once he was ready, she moved next to him behind the bales of hay. She hugged the coat around her frame, as to not give away where they were by her coat hanging out from the side of the bale.

Then, she looked over at Mark, pursing her lips as she thought about how she wanted to ask her next question.

“What were you doing? In the elevator earlier. When you had your mouth against my mouth?” she asked softly, not wanting to give away where they were, but endlessly curious as to what was occurring.

He's so busy moving the hay he doesn't think to instruct her. They're heavy and he's thinking about what would make the best arrangement. When she joins him and draws her coat around her he grabs the end of the scarf to make sure it, as well, isn't sticking out past the edge of the hay bales from her crouching back here with him.

Her words cause Mark to remember about the blood all over his face and he reaches up to wipe at it. It's mostly dry now. He lowers his hand and shakes his head slightly.

"I mean, apparently when my outie found your outie they decided to kiss," he says. His shoulders sag. "I assure you, I didn't intend to show any disrespect."

He looks at her then. She is pretty. He'd always thought so, back when she was giving him wellness sessions.

But so is Helly.

He sighs to himself. With the arrangement of things so far, he has no choice but to leave with her, once the elevator arrives.

She watched as he pulled the scarf away from peeking out from behind the haybails. It was thoughtful of him, considering he didn’t want either of them getting caught. She couldn’t go to the break room again for this.

When she saw him wiping the blood from his face, she licked over the pad of her thumb, then reached over to wipe some of the blood away from his face. She didn’t know what compelled her to help in that way.

“Disrespect? No.. I don’t believe it’s disrespectful,” she admitted gently, trying to reassure him. Even though she was supposed to administer wellness, she wasn’t sure how to do it in this situation.

“I’ve.. never kissed anyone before. Besides you, though I suppose that was our.. outies kissing,” she spoke before glancing away from him, “I don’t think you would want to anyway. I’m strange, I understand that.”

Well, that's not what he wants her to think. He doesn't feel love for her, but she's not weird.

He leans in where they're crouching, bending his head toward hers so they can talk lowly while they continue to hide and wait.

"No, Ms. Casey... Ah, Gemma?" What should he call her? He's not sure. "...I don't find you strange. I always liked when I was sent to wellness sessions. You're very good at doing that."

He pulls his head back again just slightly so he can look her in the eyes.

She watched as he spoke, a slight smile on her face. She always remembered him being kind. That was one of the many things she liked about him.

“Yes, well,” she started, glancing off before staring at him again, “I don’t really think my sessions were very invigorating. But I’m glad you liked them.”

She definitely doubted the quality of her sessions now that there was the whole innie uprising. Might not be a good idea to tell an upset person about what kind of person their outie is.

She fidgeted with her scarf, quiet now.

"Hey," he says, setting a hand on her hand where it's fidgeting. "It's okay. Really, it is. You were just doing your job."

He'd always been curious about what she would tell him about his outie during the sessions. And the music had been lovely and relaxing. Her voice had added to the atmosphere of peace in the sessions. She'd been the perfect choice for that position.

He's curious about a few things, though. "Was everything you told me during sessions, was that something you interpreted from data for me? Or was it verbatim? Stuff they told you to say?"

She stopped fidgeting then, when he set his hand on top of hers. She turned her and took his in hers, wanting to hold his hand again. She liked the warmth emanating from him. “I know.. but I was still let go. I must’ve done something wrong.”

It was bothering her now. She loved the job, always had, but she was always worried about what she had done wrong to cause her to have to be removed from the position. She now wondered if they had hired anyone else to replace her.

“Oh, no. I don’t think they’d let me do that much. I was always just given the papers in the drawer. I would just read off the facts about you.” Then she took a breath, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, “I believe all the ones about you were true. I always liked learning new things about you.. well, your outie.”

His expression goes flat then, and he withdraws his hand—not rapidly, but it's enough for her to know her action wasn't welcome. He drops his hands to his lap and flexes his ankles a little. Crouching isn't the most comfortable position and he doesn't seem to be in the best shape—his outie must not do much exercising.

"I don't know how much of it was true. I've talked to my outie and he's honestly...kind of a jerk."

He pauses, then lets his head droop forward slightly. "From what I learned while this whole rescue mission was being planned, you didn't do anything wrong at all. They were just using your outie for their plans and didn't care about your innie."

She swallowed thickly when the other withdrew his hand. She didn’t know why she had did that anyhow, it was just an instinctive motion. She wasn’t exactly sure why. She returned her hands to the end of her scarf, picking at the loose fuzzy pills again.

Her eyes widened then when he said he had met his outie, a little frown on his face, “Really?” she asked in disbelief. “What was it like, talking to him?” She could never imagine talking to her outie, and was honestly curious as to how one could.

“Oh. Well.. after this happens.. do you know what will happen to me?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t going to get the answer she had feared. “Will I continue to be disregarded?”

He didn't explain how, since she didn't ask. "It was awful. He doesn't know anything about me at all. He was pretending to care, but he doesn't. He just cares about his wife." He frowned. "He cares about getting the life he wants and he doesn't care if it kills me."

Which is what he hadn't said yet to her. "Because, yeah, us going out there and never coming back? It means we're dead. Gone."

The elevator shaft began to hum then, with the sounds of the pulleys and gears whirring. He clenched his jaw and, though he'd just pulled his hand out of hers, grabs her hand and gripped it tight. "So you gotta be sure now. You want to do this?"

“Oh,” she spoke, glancing down again at the floor, then back up at him, “Well.. would you do the same if you were on the outside? Trying to save someone like Helly?”

A chill ran down her spine for a moment, but then she calmed down. She knew she was liked out there. Wanted. She knew she had been happy up there, and that soothed her. Maybe it wasn’t so bad out there, and she would get to spend her time with Mark. This wasn’t her whole life, and she had been at peace with that fact. She had been turned off before, and it hadn’t been that scary.

She nodded then, looking down at their held hands, “Yes, I’m sure. I have more of a life up there than I do in here. I’ve only been awake for 108 hours now. Out there, I’ve been awake for years. And I know I’m happy up there.”

Edited 2025-04-05 16:16 (UTC)

He stares at her; not speaking, just staring. He doesn't know what to say. He, too, should be willing to think about the fact that his lifespan is much shorter than his outie's. But he wants to be selfish; he wants to hang on.

The elevator arrives then. He hangs on to Ms. Casey's hand and nudges her to start sneaking around behind the hay bales to get on it. They'll have to be sneaky to avoid detection. Half of him thinks once he's got her situated here he'll get off, but that remains to be seen.

Two burly men exit the elevator and begin moving hay off of it and into the stockroom. They're laughing and joking and loud enough that Mark and Ms. Casey should be able to get away with this, he thinks.

She begins to move when Mark nudges her, being careful and quiet as she moves behind the hay bales. Her movements seem calculated, and she knows that she wants to be able to make it out.

She keeps her hand in his, hoping that Mark will stay close to her and come with her, but she doubts that he will. There’s a feeling in her gut that he probably won’t stay.

The men that exit the elevator are loud, and she feels confident that they’ll make it onto the elevator without being noticed. So that’s what she does, sneaking in after they turn away with the bales.

There's a piece of equipment on the elevator they're able to sneak behind when they get around the hay bales; Mark's never seen one before, so he doesn't know what it is (it's a forklift), but it's big enough that he thinks she'll be able to hide behind it.

And as for himself, more and more he finds he intends to make sure she's situated and bail out. He's not really very sure they'd both fit behind the machine, and he doesn't want to leave.

He silently puts out a hand and gestures—you settled in? You okay?

But before he has a chance to process her response, the men get back on the elevator, with the hay bales only half-unloaded, and press the button to lower the gate. Mark's eyes go wide and his nostrils flare in upset and distress—why have they stopped unloading the hay? Was that all they intended to unload to begin with?

Well, those questions are moot now. He presses in to squeeze next to her in hiding behind the forklift, and realizes they're only both going to fit if he actually grabs her and they hang on to each other. He doesn't really want to have to do that, but if he doesn't, they're going to get caught.

So he grabs her, and flattens their arms and shoulders against the side of the forklift.

The next step will be up to their outies.

Mrs Casey quickly moved behind the large machinery and settled herself behind it as comfortably as she could. And before she knew it, Mark was holding her close, silently behind the forklift. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t even think of what to say in the situation—and if she had, they would have been caught. So she stayed quiet.

She continues to stare at him, blinking. She can tell that he doesn’t want to end his life here, so she mouths: “I’m sorry.” She wants to thank him for saving her, but his outie wanted her saved, not him. But she knows that he has kindness in his heart. That’s why he still did this. Maybe that’s why her outie fell for him.

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[psl] alternate elevator rescue resolution (severance 2x10 spoilers)

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npcing the goat matron in this tag

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