5.2 – Unsound

IMMUNITIES — SEASON 5. EPISODE 5.2 — UNSOUND

SETTING: Out of character.

    BOB or JAX:

As a reminder: this season was written by Jacqueline Bryk, who suffers from C-PTSD and other traumatic disorders. This episode covers gaslighting, violence, misogyny, and trauma, as well as mentions of abuse and family estrangement. Listener discretion is advised.

SETTING: An apartment, somewhere hot. There’s a box fan whirring. DEREK and TILLY are drinking. It’s a flashback. Glasses or shitty solo cups are clinking. Tilly is clearly intoxicated, but functional. Derek is sober, but relaxed.

DEREK:
    (primly)

Look. All I’m saying is that cops aren’t magic.

TILLY:

(annoyed)

Criminal Minds is a fantasy, Derek. It’s about a world where the cops actually do care about you, instead of getting revenue for the city. Besides, I thought you’d like the fact that Shemar Moore’s character is named after you.

DEREK:

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a hell of an actor. But for being an expert in crimes of obsession, he doesn’t really do a lot of … experting, does he?

TILLY:
(drunkenly)
Experting isn’t a word.

DEREK:
You know what the fuck I mean.

TILLY:
So, what, do you just watch Criminal Minds to make fun of the show I like? Is that it?

DEREK:

Not just that.

TILLY:

(slurring a little)

Yeah?

DEREK:

I like seeing you happy. You don’t smile a lot.

TILLY:

Oh? Is that your official medical observation?

DEREK:

Sure is.

TILLY:
(flirtatiously)

And what is your prescription Doctor Derek Morgan Holroyd, PhD? What will you give me?

Beat. Seems like he might kiss her. He doesn’t.

    DEREK:
    (slowly, almost contemptuously)

    I think … we should get you some water. You’re not in your right mind.

    TILLY:

    That’s no fun.

    DEREK:

    That’s right. I’m no fun. Drink your damn water, Tilly. I can’t leave until I know you’re ok.

    TILLY:

You’re going to leave? But we just started season five! Agent Hotchner is about to have a traaaaagic loss.

DEREK:
(tightly)

You drank too much. I can’t be around you like this. You need some sleep, Tilly. You’re losing it.

TILLY:

(pouting)

Is that your official medical opinion?

DEREK:

Yes, and you should listen to it. Now drink your water. Doctor’s orders.

TITLE MUSIC.

SETTING: TILLY’s cottage. Afternoon. Cicadas. Writing.

TILLY:

Of course it was Derek. Didn’t I know that? Wasn’t there a whole broadcast about it, with Looker girls in sunglasses? Fuck. It was on in the car when Lizzie drove me to O9. I wasn’t listening. I was tuning it out. Background noise. Looker propaganda. Nicole was asleep, and I was upset that Uncle Jeff was moving me somewhere I had never been. I was sulking too hard to realize who it was that they were talking about. 

Stupid. Stupid Tilly, caring too much about her own shit to realize the actual problems in the world.

My therapist would say that I don’t have to beat myself up, that I am fighting a losing battle against an abusive voice in my brain that knows how best to hurt me. But my therapist is a Looker now, and she’s lost the battle with that voice. I don’t care what she says now. This is my fault, somehow. I knew Derek. Derek and I used to watch crime dramas together. How did I not see the signs?

Train whistle. Sounds of TILLY scribbling and erasing for a couple of seconds.

    TILLY:

    *frustrated grunting for a moment*

I tried to write down the signs I could remember: shitty family life, nightmares, self-harm, isolation, fantasizing or daydreaming, lashing out, bed-wetting, starting fires, harming animals. I remember that the last three are the homicidal triad, that was a big thing on the shows we watched. 

I don’t have the homicidal triad. But I have everything else. 

Maybe that’s what killing is. Maybe it’s just trauma being expressed through a narrow hallway that family and friends force us through, the idea that you can’t show your hurt unless you’re hurting other people. Maybe you build that tunnel yourself, just to let it out. I don’t know. Some assholes say that serial killers are born, not made. I say that’s bullshit. It’s not taking responsibility for the harm people can do — including the killers themselves. “It’s genetic, he couldn’t help it!” we cry, not realizing that we’re reducing his victims to marks on a bedpost in service of a gene we’ve never found and will not find.

Or maybe we will find it. Maybe I’m just screaming in pain and I don’t know what I’m talking about. Maybe it is true that some people are just born to kill other people, and we will wind up romanticizing that, just like we romanticize every god-damned other thing about violent men.

Fucking Derek. I loved him. There were times where I thought we would get married, just because there was no one else I could imagine keeping me safe. We never dated, of course, he was in medical school, but he was always there to get drunk with me on Friday nights. I mean, he never drank, but he always made sure I got to bed on time and didn’t do anything stupid. He always said I was stupid when I drank. I guess that came from him wanting to be a doctor. He was always so protective. There were times he would physically throw me into bed and prevent me from going anywhere.

*laughs uncomfortably*

(this next paragraph becomes bitter and sarcastic as TILLY recognizes what she’s saying)

That was love, right? Of course it was. People who love you are just saying that — they tolerate you because the other option is not tolerating you. Derek felt sorry for me, I’m sure. He saw how broken I was and made sure I couldn’t inflict myself on others. He said that. Said he loved to spend time with me, I was interesting, he could pull me apart. I loved being pulled apart. I loved having him be interested in me. He never shied away from the shit I told him. He picked it apart, told me I was weak for falling for such obvious manipulation. Told me I should forget my parents, forget that my dad held me down while hitting me, told me that my Uncle Jeff shouldn’t matter to me because he defended my dad. Diagnosed me with narcissism and borderline, diagnoses that would never hold up in front of my therapist…now a Looker. He probably thinks he’s smarter than her now, because she got the Look and he didn’t.

Fuck. FUCK. I’m so mad. I should have known. Don’t I know abuse when other people suffer it? Didn’t I think I was abusing Dani for the longest time?

A car begins to pass, then slows down and pulls into the gravel driveway of TILLY’s cottage. It could be DANI, but it sounds different. This is almost certainly LIZZIE, what with the engine sputtering and the screech of the tires. After a minute, there’s a knock on the door, and TILLY answers.

    LIZZIE:

    (cheerfully)

    Special delivery!

    TILLY:

    Hey Lizzie.

Sounds of bags being placed on tables. Rattling of medication bottles.

    LIZZIE:

Got you that melatonin, like you asked. I’m sorry, they say they’re not making Seroquel anymore. I guess you don’t really need an anti-psychotic when you’re a Looker.

TILLY:

That’s ok. Thanks for trying.

LIZZIE:

You ok, Cannon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

TILLY:
(uncomfortable laughter)
I kinda did, yeah.

LIZZIE:

You wanna talk about it? I don’t have to be back until nightfall.

TILLY:
(deep breath, she’s feeling out the space)

Ever feel like you don’t know someone until they’re out of your life completely?

LIZZIE:

Sure. I think everyone feels that now, to some extent.

TILLY:
I don’t mean in the Looker sense. At least, I don’t think I do.

LIZZIE:
Ooookay…

TILLY:
*pauses, then takes the plunge*

    You knew Derek, right?

    LIZZIE:
    Sure did. Fucker.

    TILLY:

    How well did you know him?

    LIZZIE:

I mean, we were at meetings together. Got our schedules together. That fucker took my route after I spun out ONE TIME. Guess he’s on the run for chopping up women like some sort of Looker-obsessed Ted Bundy, though. So I got my route back!

TILLY:

Did you ever suspect he would do that?

LIZZIE:

I don’t think any of us did. Why, what’s up?

TILLY:

Just … thinking, is all.

LIZZIE:

Well, don’t let him get to you. We’ll find him, sooner or later, and then the Major will deal with him. Besides, it’s not like he went after anyone that matters.

    TILLY:
    *lets the pause become awkward*
    That’s fucked up.

    LIZZIE:

    They’re not people, Cannon. Their brains are fucked.

    TILLY:
    (angry)

    They’re still fucking people, and he still fucking tortured them.

LIZZIE:

*scoffs*

What, are you an Alpha now?

TILLY: 

Fuck you, Lizzie.
*throws the groceries into the fridge*
Those were somebody’s girlfriends and sisters and moms. More than that. They were SOMEONE.

LIZZIE:

Yeah, and now they’re weird hivemind aliens.

TILLY:

Dani remembers me. She’s still in there, and she still cares.

LIZZIE:

Who?

TILLY:
(realizing what she’s said, realizing what that means)
My … ex-girlfriend. She’s a Looker.

LIZZIE:

You dated a Looker?

TILLY:
Yeah. Before she became a Looker.

LIZZIE:

And you’ve seen her again?

TILLY:
Once or twice. Only briefly.

LIZZIE:

(pushing)

Yeah? And she still cares, even though you only saw her briefly?

TILLY:
Lizzie?

LIZZIE:
Yeah?

TILLY:
(strained)
Get the hell out of my house.

SETTING: Later. Still journaling in TILLY’s house.

    TILLY:

I mean, of course I knew she was a Looker. I never fall asleep around anyone anymore, not without a heavy dose of pills. It couldn’t just be me being comfortable around her. That would be too easy. Too easy.

She’s still Dani, though. She’s still in there.

I mean, it’s not like she’s gone into the Overlook, right? It’s just her and me, in my little house on the prairie. Laura Ingalls Wilder style, but a little gayer, and with less overt colonialist propaganda. 

…ok a lot gayer. Not sure about the colonialist propaganda. I guess the Looker radio might qualify. The point is, she’s still Dani. She’s still the woman I love, and she still loves me. She’s my only constant, now that Derek’s gone.

SETTING: Night on the road leading into the Overlook. Crunching footsteps on the gravel. A truck slows down, stops, and a window rolls down. Sounds of an engine chuntering. Footsteps stop.

LIZZIE:

Isn’t it a little late to be hitchhiking, my guy?
    (pause)

Oh, shit.

DEREK:

Elizabeth Persham, in the flesh. Weren’t you doing loading dock work last time we talked?

LIZZIE:

Fuck you, Holroyd.

Sound of the car starting again. Quick footsteps.

DEREK:

Hold up. I know you’re mad that I took your route. I’m sorry.

LIZZIE:

It’s not about my route. It’s about how you told us you’d see what happened to Lookers when you cut them off from the collective, and it turns out you’re a creep looking to slice and dice them like he’s making Frankensteins.

DEREK:

Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster.

LIZZIE:

Ha ha. Frankenstein was also a huge weirdo who dropped out of college to make monsters. He could be the monster himself.

DEREK:

Lucky for you, I didn’t drop out of college. I was removed by eschatological circumstance. Unlock the door for me?

LIZZIE:

You don’t even know where I’m going, Holroyd. 

DEREK:

You’re right. That makes it more fun.

LIZZIE:

I could be going deeper into Looker territory. Then you’d really be in trouble. They all know your face through that weird sky internet bullshit.

DEREK:

You would have driven off already, if that was the case.

Beat. Then, sound of a car door opening.

LIZZIE:

Fuck you, Holroyd.

Car door slams. Car begins rumbling off down the road.

DEREK:

Where are you going, anyway?

LIZZIE:

O9, by way of the eastern checkpoint. 

DEREK:

Ah yes, queerville. 

LIZZIE:

You a homophobe in addition to being a mad scientist weirdo, Holroyd?

DEREK: 

I’m pretty sure that’s what the Overlooked in O9 call it. Or is it illegal to use their words now?

LIZZIE:

I don’t like your tone is all. You’re lucky I’m nice and you’re still in the truck.

DEREK:

Or what, you’ll swerve and throw me out?

LIZZIE:

Fucking try me.

DEREK:

Ok. Sorry. 

LIZZIE: 

*pause for thought, then*

Gonna try and hide out in O9?

DEREK:
    Can’t think of a better place!

LIZZIE:
    (slyly)

Cannon, at the eastern checkpoint, will be happy to see you.

DEREK:
    …Matilda Cannon?

    LIZZIE:
    (encouraging, this could go well for her and Derek)

Yep. She’s got a cute little cottage on the outskirts, all to herself. Seems lonely out there, maybe she’s going stir crazy.

DEREK:

(darkly)

She’s always been crazy.

LIZZIE:

Sure, but she’ll be happy to see a new face. She usually just sees mine when I deliver her meds. Maybe she’s made friends in town, but she doesn’t tell me about them.

DEREK:

Sounds like her.

LIZZIE:

How well did you two know each other?

DEREK:

Pretty well. I was her best friend before the Look. Probably her only real friend, not counting her various fuck buddies.

LIZZIE:

Oh. Interesting.

*pause*

Do you think she’d let you hang out for a little bit?

DEREK:

Probably. She’s not in communication with the Major; she hates her uncle, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me. It’s not like she makes friends easily.

LIZZIE:

I’ll drop you off on my way through, then. Good luck.

DEREK: 

Thanks, though it’s not like I’ll need it. 

SETTING: Night. TILLY’s cottage. TILLY is asleep. Sound of a car pulling in, shutting a door, then pulling away. There’s a knock on the door. No one answers. The door is still unlocked. DEREK HOLROYD makes his way in.

    DEREK:
    Tilly?
    *pause*
    Tilly, c’mon, I know you’re in here.

Rustling from the bedroom. 

   
    DEREK:

    There you are–

It’s not her. It’s DANI, and she’s pissed.

    DEREK:

    –or there you’re not. Who are you?

    DANI:

    Hmmmm. That is unlike you, Derek Holroyd. Not knowing.

    DEREK:

    You’re a Looker.

    DANI:

    I am altered, yes. And you are a murderer.

    DEREK:

    Fuck you, bitch. You’re an invader. You’re a whole invasive species. You’re like bugs.

    DANI:

    You said that about women before the Look, did you not?

    DEREK:

I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is some bullshit mind game. Did the Unity tell you that? Did you get that from your alien pals?

DANI:

I know a lot about you, Derek Holroyd, from a variety of sources.

Sounds of steps moving slowly towards him. Sound of steps backing up.

DANI:

I know that you went to medical school, but were expelled for non-academic reasons.

DEREK:
Those charges were dropped.

DANI:

I know that you had a full operating theater in your basement, stocked with your residential equipment and what you could steal from hospitals before the Truce.

DEREK:

No one else was going to use them, and besides, people need my help.

DANI:
I know that you kidnapped at least four Altered women and subjected them to torture, ostensibly to discover what could turn them back, really to vent your frustrations on their bodies, like you always wanted to do before the Look.

DEREK:
I was trying to save them. They would have been grateful if their pure brains had known.

DANI:
(scoffing)

Pure.

Sound of a bump as DEREK backs into the kitchen wall. The one right by the panic button in the cabinet. Small sound of rustling from the bedroom.

DANI:

Any excuse to tear women apart, right Derek? If you were really interested in how the brain works, you could have gone after the AlphaBeta, but she was not part of your signature. You wanted women who would feel vulnerable when isolated, women terrified of being truly alone. The men you could see as people, but the women? What was it you called me? An insect?

DEREK:
(angry but terrified)

A fucking insect. A drone. You’re nothing. I could crush you.

DANI:

You might be right. Maybe I am an insect. But some insects sting.

She grabs Derek by the wrist and slams it against the countertop.

DEREK

AHH!

Dani looks out the window at the sky.

    DANI:
    *hums briefly, and then…*
    You are welcome to watch.

    DEREK:

(recovering)

Watch what?

    DANI:

I’m going to make you apologize, Derek.

DEREK:

*fumbling around with one hand, grabs a bowl or something to hit her with*

Eat shit.

DANI:

That is not very apologetic of you, Derek.

Sounds of a scuffle. He tries to get her in a body lock, but she’s too fast for him. Sound of a bowl breaking, a knife going into someone’s neck, a half-scream, and a body sinking to the floor.

    DANI:

You have forgotten how strong we are. Now say you are sorry.

    DEREK:

(wheezing)

You … fucking stabbed … me!

    DANI:

It is not difficult. Just apologize.

Sound of a boot being pressed to DEREK’s chest. Maybe some ribs cracking. Sound of a door opening.

    TILLY:

    (sleepily)

    Dani?

    *she sees the scene in her kitchen, it takes her a moment*

    Danielle, what the fuck have you done?

We hear the whispering of the Unity in TILLY’S head again. A repeat of the whispers from the first episode. They crescendo during this scene.   

DANI:

    (pleasantly)

    Go back to sleep, Matilda.

    TILLY:

    No! What? What the fuck?

    DEREK:

    (wheezing)

    Tilly … help me … 

DANI:

    I am asking him to apologize, Matilda. 

    TILLY:

    By stabbing him in my kitchen?

    DEREK:

    Tilly…

    DANI:

He would not apologize any other way. This is a just penance for what he did to my sisters.

TILLY:

They weren’t your sisters, Dani! You didn’t know them!

DANI:
(surprised)

Of course I knew them. We are connected by the Unity. I know exactly who they are and how they felt.

TILLY:

But … you could have taken him in! You could have called your people!

DANI:
You are right. But…apparently I did not.

TILLY:

Why not?!?

DANI:

The world is changing, Matilda. Unity must be protected, by those who would see her prevail. Our new leader understands.

DEREK gurgles.

    DANI:

I was told to find him. So I did. And now they know what will happen to anyone else who threatens our people. You have been very helpful.

TILLY:

I didn’t do anything!

DANI:

You led me to Derek, just like I asked you to. I am sure the Unity will be very happy with you once they think it was you who killed him. The Truce does not extend to Unaltered killing Unaltered. You have made this all very convenient. You should thank me for making you a hero.

TILLY:
You … you can’t just … what the fuck!

DANI:

That is not very kind of you, Matilda, especially after I have found a way for you to have so much of the love and approval you always wanted. And you, Derek. You still have not apologized — to me or to Matilda.

DEREK:
(faint)
I’m sorry.

DANI:

What was that?

DEREK:

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you two are such … irreparable … cunts.

TILLY:

Fuck this.

DANI:

What are you doing, Matilda?

Sounds of running across the kitchen, a brief scuffle, and a body being pressed up against a wall.

TILLY:

Ow! Fuck, let me go!

DANI:

I cannot let you touch him. He needs to bleed out. He is almost there.

TILLY:

(halfheartedly)
Just wait until I…

DANI:
Kick me? Find another knife? You will not hurt me. You cannot. I will win. Unity Will Prevail.

TILLY:
(starting to slur, DANI’s look is working on her)

    Oh, I won’t hurt you.

Sound of a button being pressed or kicked.

    TILLY:

    But I’m sure the Overlook Council will have some words for you.

    DANI:

    That was very clever, Tilly. But I will be long gone before they get here.

    TILLY:

Of course. Because you’re not really Dani. Dani would protect me. Dani wouldn’t stab a man to death IN MY KITCHEN.

Small, creepy giggles from the Unity whispers. TILLY is looking into DANI’s eyes.

DANI:

Are you objecting to me destroying a known serial killer, or simply doing so where you can see it, Matilda?

TILLY:
(traumatized)

I don’t know! I just know that you’re not Dani! 

DANI:

I am Danielle Cooper. Do not trouble yourself over that. I am just better now. I know what I need to do. I have a purpose. Do you?

TILLY:
(starting to cry)

Get off of me!

(getting drowsy)

Get…off…

DANI:

I am going to leave now. I love you, Matilda. It is a shame you cannot be part of the Unity with me just now. Do not worry. Soon.

*she kisses TILLY gently on the forehead*
Good night, Matilda.

Sound of another body slumping to the floor. Footsteps. A door closing.

SETTING: Another vehicle, but less noisy than the usual resistance truck. A door closes. 

    MARTHA:

What’s going on?

DANI:

The authorities have been summoned. We are leaving.

MARTHA:

Sure thing.

The car starts up.

MARTHA:

Derek?

DANI:

Dead.

MARTHA:

Oh good. And your friend?

DANI:

Unconscious. She will be found with him, and nothing she says will be believed.

MARTHA:

Sewn up pretty tight. And you made sure he’s dead?

DANI:

I…was distracted. I felt a need to make sure Tilly knew why I was doing what I did. Should…we go back? Check his vital signs?

    MARTHA:

Listen, I’ve risked enough on this insane mission, I’m not getting caught pawing a corpse.

DANI:

Well, I appreciate your forbearance. One moment.

The ethereal sounds of the Unity begin to fade in.

DANI:

Hmmm…

*pause*

President Noone, please.

REBECCA:

Young lady, it is a bit late for you to try to be calling the President of the United States, is it not?

DANI:

(surprised)

Uh, hello Miss Bradshaw. I did not mean to bother you.

REBECCA:

You are not bothering me. It is my job to be paying attention. 

DANI:

(stymied)

Um. Well. Good. Could you get me the secret service, please? Agent Eisenhart, if possible? I know he is still in the state.

REBECCA:

Miss Cooper, I do not not believe–

DANI:

NOW, Miss Bradshaw.
    *pause*

Please. It is important.

    REBECCA:

Does he know you are calling?

DANI:

Miss Bradshaw…

    REBECCA:

(sighing)

Very well, Miss Cooper I cannot be blamed if he does not want to communicate with you. 

DANI:

Of course not.

    REBECCA:

Should I be concerned that you are hiding something from me?

DANI:

No. 

REBECCA:
    (probing)

You have not asked to speak to the Governor for some time.

DANI:

I do not need to.

    REBECCA:

You seemed so intent on talking to her last time we spoke.

DANI:

(cagey)

I was.

    REBECCA:

But now you are not?

DANI:

Will you find me the agent, please?

REBECCA:

One moment, Miss Cooper. But the governor will not be happy–

DANI:

(frustrated)

At any other time I might care about Governor Lee’s happiness, but that is not important right now. This is a matter for the Secret Service. Please stop trying to sidetrack me. It is very irritating.

A chorus of disconsolate humming. The sounds of the Unity fade out briefly.

    MARTHA:

    Hey, Danielle, you ok?

    DANIELLE:

    Yes, I … of course, Martha. It is just taking a moment.

    MARTHA:

    You should be proud of yourself, you know. You got him.

    DANIELLE:
    (is there a hint of regret in her voice?)

I did, yes, with your help. Of course, my former girlfriend is now sobbing in her sleep, slumped over his body, covered in his blood. But sacrifices must be made. 

MARTHA:

Oh. Well.
*pause*

At least it’s an ex, I guess?

DANIELLE:

It is. But she did not deserve that. Her life and mind have been damaged enough already. I had hoped she would sleep through it, but plans never survive first contact with the enemy.

MARTHA:

A very famous quote. From World War II, right?

DANI:

World War I. I have been doing research on…killing.

The sounds of the Unity begin to fade in again.

    DANI:

    Excuse me. Hmmmm…

She connects to the Unity.

DANI

    Hello?

    EISENHART:

    Miss Cooper?

    DANI:

    (relieved)

    Oh thank goodness. Hello, agent. It is good to talk to you.

    EISENHART:

    I saw that you found Derek Holroyd. Well done.

    DANI:
    (flattered)

    Thank you, agent. And may I say it was–

    EISENHART:

    No you may not.

    DANI:

    Excuse me?

    EISENHART:

    Do not say anything now.

    DANI:

    But I–

    EISENHART:

    We do not want to keep Miss Bradshaw up, do we?

    DANI:

    No, agent.

    EISENHART:

    Good. Blindfold yourself.

    DANI:

    What?!

    EISENHART:

    Disconnect from the Unity. Now, Miss Cooper.

Voices begin to clamor in the background with “What?” and “What’s happening” and other similar things.

    REBECCA:

    Agent Eisenhart, what are you–

    EISENHART:

    Government business, Miss Bradshaw.

    REBECCA:

    I am a government administrator, agent!

DANI:
    I do not see why I have to–

REBECCA:

Miss Cooper, if you are hiding something–

DANI:

I am not!

    EISENHART:

    Now, Miss Cooper!

    DANI:

    All right, all right!

The voices suddenly cut out. Sounds of something soft being tied over someone’s eyes and a glove compartment being open and shut.

    MARTHA:

    You … you know that’s for Overlooked, right?

    DANI:

    I have to disconnect.

MARTHA:

Yeah I figured that out.

DANI:

And to stay disconnected.

    MARTHA:

    …whoa. That serious?

    DANI:

    A good citizen never finishes their work.

    MARTHA:

    I think you mean “a good citizen’s work is never done”.

    DANI:

    Hmmmm… if you like.

    MARTHA:

    So they just … don’t want you to tell anyone?

    DANI:

    Hmmmm. Seems not. 

    MARTHA:

So … what are we going to do? I can’t just drop you off at home blindfolded, people will ask questions. Uncomfortable questions.

    DANI:

Hmmmm.   
    *pause*

Take me to the capitol building. I am sure Agent Eisenhart will appreciate that I took the initiative.

MARTHA:

Aye aye, captain.

DANI:

I am not a captain.

MARTHA:

‘Course not. You’re higher rank than me though, right? Lookers over Alphas?

DANI:

Something like that.

SETTING: TILLY’s cottage. Muffled noises of doors opening, people yelling, footsteps. We’re hearing things as TILLY wakes up.

    DANI:

    (distorted but emotionless)

    I am sorry. I had to. I still love you.

    TILLY:

    (mumbling)

    Dani?

    DANI:

    Think well of me. I will see you soon. She is breathing.

    TILLY:
    (still slurring and mumbling)

    Wh-what?

    DANI:
    (fading)

    She is breathing. Tilly, Tilly, Tilly…

The sounds become much sharper. People are searching TILLY’s cottage. There is a rare ambulance outside, or maybe it’s a vehicle awkwardly fitted with sirens. There’s a lot of ruckus. NICOLE is shaking Tilly’s shoulder.

    NICOLE:

    (her voice fades in from Dani’s)

    She’s breathing! Tilly! Tilly, c’mon Cannon. Tilly!

    TILLY:

    Whu…huh? Nicole?

    NICOLE:

    Welcome back, girl. You’re in deep shit.

    MAJOR CRAIG:
    Well, well, well. What have you done this time, Matilda?

    TILLY:

    Shit.

FADE OUT.

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