Yesterday had been filled with Anders anxiously flitting through the building to take care of a very delirious Miranda, Giles filling in his place when he needed to take a break to eat something or go to the bathroom or to sleep as well as he could in his stressful state. Miranda had stayed in the same quasi-ill state all day, almost to the point where Giles could almost be heard swearing under his breath that Miranda was turning into another Argentina. The night was no better, of course, for Giles finally broke down and needed a nap of his own, leaving Miranda to get up on trembling legs and serve himself.
“Good morning, love,” Anders croaked the next morning, staring warily at the white-clothed figures coming up to him as he choked down bites of his oatmeal. “I’m assuming you’re feeling better today?”
“Yeah, sure.” Miranda sat down across from Anders with a very exasperated Giles running to the kitchen for another bowl of the same tasteless goop. “I think it’s more of an ‘I don’t feel like my organs are going to pop out at any given moment’ than an ‘I feel like a normal human being today’.”
He dropped his spoon back into the bowl as his brow furrowed. “Do you still want those memories gone? Because I assume that’s what brought on such a strong reaction.”
“I…” Do I really want them gone? Do I really love Anders that much, if at all, to turn a blind eye to him shooting a defenseless teenage girl in hot blood? “Can you put it off a few days?” His head dropped into his hands, tearlessly overcome by a mixture of confusion and exhaustion. “I need time to think.”
Anders reached out a hand to grab one of Miranda’s as Giles came back with the bowl of oatmeal intended for Miranda. “Of course, love. Whatever you need. I was thinking that the memory eraser needed to be brought back to its home here, after all, so no harm done if you decide to keep the memories.”
“So…” Giles set down the bowl of oatmeal, and Miranda dropped his hands to begin slowly consuming with a blank face blotchy with past sickness. “Master Shew, what were your plans with AT-679 again? Lainey in the downstairs south wing needs to know how much longer we need to bribe the police for.”
Anders pushed the empty bowl towards Giles, who took it in his hands. “I said I wanted Lainey to take Argentina to where I had the machine moved and erase the events from October to December of last year from her mind. I also said that I wanted her wings removed and Lainey to come up with some alibi as to why Argentina just showed back up in the system without anybody reporting her found.”
“…And where exactly did you say that you had the machine moved to? Because it’s not where it was originally.”
“Downstairs, south wing. And while you’re there, you might want to have your own brain checked. You haven’t had a lapse in memory this big for a while.”
“Yes, Master Shew.” Giles headed back to the kitchen with the dirty bowl, and the first of the subjects started to wander in for the start of the day. Understandably, Argentina wasn’t among them, probably still refusing to get up out of bed and forcing some poor caretaker to pick her up and force her to go through the daily motions.


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