Chapter Text
The alarm clock rung at 4:00 AM, the BEEP BEEP BEEP had shot his nerves alight, his consciousness flooding back to him as the discordant notes grates on his ears. He had to flicker open an eye of his to shut the blasted timer off, he hadn't privileged himself any shut eye since last night.
What was it that he was working on? He clicked his tongue and furrowed his brows, scrunching up in concentration as if the mental image would appear quicker if he were to physically exert the effort to. A cold winter day that was... that was random, foreign. Whatever, it won't be important anyway, another fickle imagination conjured by his addled brain to cope with the overstimulation he self-induced.
What did he forget again? He was thrown off track by the meandering thoughts. Right!
The experiment he was working on, it was on the properties of Mathematical equations and manipulation of reality following suit through the translation of ideal conditions, and if those conditions were met, then it would be a ground breaking discovery - he had an inkling he was on the edge of a tethered catastrophe waiting to be blown out of proportions and that of contented peace and exhilaration in cracking the secrets of the universe he felt so small in comparison to.
He was sure he wrote it down somewhere, what if it fell to the wrong hands? Someone suspiciously familiar like... his head turned to the echoed giggles of DeeDee as she moves further deeper into the maze of what he calls his own laboratory. He sighs in resignation, standing up from the office chair he had bought from an obscure brand personally and remodeled a while ago since he hit his growth spurt. That being said, how he managed to trip was for an equally inept warrant as the explanation he previously stated, and just as trivial.
His head smacked on the control board, the keyboard clicked to a file that imprinted an emergency code, and all Dexter saw before the room went dark was words that read in bold green illuminating his glasses: Emergency Invention Breach Protocol - Only Under Russian Threat Will Be Activated.
There came flashes of light. The pain which assaulted his forehead was immense. The injury, throbbing, it felt like his heart was beating from there. Perhaps it was the blood rushing to his head from the adrenaline as he bruised himself. He wasn't too certain of his answer since the world in his view was spinning, he couldn't see anything to confirm it was, yet the sensation stuck to him.
He couldn't think properly like this, he'll have to settle down and catch his breath for a minute or two. Closing his eyes to rest for a bit. The wait was long before the symptoms dulled out.
He blinks, yet nothing comes in his vision, for a split second, he thought himself blind. It was a fair presumption, he just injured his head from a fall, mind you. A faint comfort, brushing and patting off the soot on his lab coat, or so he assumes is his lab coat. His gloves snagged onto a stray pin, ah, his metal molded nuclear symbol. It was a challenge adjusting to the loss of one of his senses.
He rummages through his pockets, no flashlight, he curses. The power outage went on for longer. Except it was a problem for him no longer when a welcome relief greeted him, his eyes adapted to the low lighting. So, he hadn't lost his vision, that was news to him.
He thought aloud, his foreign accent seeping in, "Russian threat?" All that came to him was how close the Russians advanced to nuking the country, he supposes it must be related to that. Though how he never came across a file like that in his computer in the span of his childhood had bewildered him, he wasn't normally negligent when it comes to his property, one as private as emergency too. It's reserved only for him to know and recognize, so why the unknown file that popped up? Not a clue.
Soon, his answers would be given in due time, provided that he locates where the switch is first and gets his blasted wrecking sister in control, finishing his research. Okay, there are 2 objectives which needs to be completed. He can work with that.
Yet an anxious part of him spoke on how DeeDee would destroy every shred of his hard work into pieces, right before his eyes. If the worst comes to the worst, he wouldn't forgive her for the rest of his entire span of his existence for such an offense regardless of how well her intentions may be.
Pursuing after a specific blonde sporting pigtailed sibling, he reaches the deeper parts of his lab he quite recalls having crashed when younger, in the form of a plane the shape of a rocket ship inspired by his former idol, Einstein.
The grime and soot collecting in between spaces, emitting a putrid smell as it was infested with dirt and thriving without a doubt with species attracted to that sort of environment, cockroaches, mice, the like. It was a horrifying sight. It had him holding onto his stomach for dear life to prevent him from expelling out his insides. He internally added another objective to his checklist, phew, he needs to renovate the place.
Sliding down through a slope on one of the areas, the dust cloud accumulating had him hacking on his lungs. A cough before another followed suit, he thumps his chest, clearing his throat to rid himself of the particles.
"Should've - " his esophagus was itchy, "brought a hazmat - " a cough escaped him.
After a few seconds of wheezing, he got his bearings back. Breathing a sigh of relief, his uncontrollable stimulus finally came to an end. He muttered hoarsely, "That's not an experience I would like to repeat." said to no one in particular.
Then, the sound of shuffling feet, laughter — he perked up, alert. It was originating from above, since when did she get up there? He knocked as a test to see if a wall blocked his direction, lo and behold, a metallic bang was reverberated from where his hand hit, it fired his nerves, leaving a numb stinging sensation from where the contact was engaged.
He quickly retracted his hand and blew on it as if it would dissipate the pain, he grew embarrassed for such childish and irrational behavior. It was not on fire, that was obvious, he wasn’t in a cartoon now, is he? His hand paused. Rethinking his decisions on what instructions he’d follow, almost like he had short circuited. Then he shook his head, slowly returning it to the side.
He bit his lip in frustration, what’s gotten into him? What has been in his mind as of late? While his thoughts were on another tangent, he was on the way climbing the stairs to where the panel pillars of wirings and hardware led him to the center which attracted most of his attention, since it was the sole receiver of artificial light, a spotlight to the reference of casual settings. He comes closer, looking left and right, confirming that he’s alone.
He relaxes, approaching the console and flexing his fingers, his eyes glancing through the buttons, however the rusted plate caught his interest. Wiping the plaque, it read “C l br on M ine”. The pieces of memory came to him, it clicked instantly on what it was. What was his calibration machine doing here?
For reading on surrounding areas, his mind supplied. Thank you, he internally acknowledged his efforts, giving him a pat on the back for the reminder. Scanning through the cables and switches, he comes across a red button, he smirks. It’s not his invention without a pre-planned backdoor self-shutdown – in his younger years, what he called a self-destruct button. Read the signs on why he changed it at his succeeding periods.
He flipped the lever to on and activated the machine in full power, toying and testing the options from mild to extreme, the curious mad scientist he was. He need not to worry – it’s not as if a pesky sister of his was approaching it with obliviousness like a moth to the flame, wait… what is DeeDee doing there?! He's so stupid, what did he expect, his older sibling never let him go on his merry way and prevent the future accidents directly caused by her. She's perfectly content in being the troublemaker that he had avoided doing so (though the learning experience was the unintentional bargain).
Not to say he wasn’t flawed, he had a few scuffles himself. He wasn’t an innocent angel either. That couldn’t compare to the chaos and destruction DeeDee brings to the table, any invention that could beget corruption to the world he occupies space in does not compare to half of what DeeDee has done, eradicating days to months of hard work AND if lady luck wasn’t on his side, triggered malfunctions that turned his creations to do the opposite of what he designed them for, and if that isn’t the worst, many of the constructions he founded can potentially end the world as they know it. A cynical – realistic part of him questioned why he even designed a dangerous contraption to begin with.
Though DeeDee gave him a break, and no it wasn't out of the goodness of her heart, but her natural curiosity that got the best of her when she got distracted by the eyes floating on a jar that was nearby. In comedic fashion, DeeDee was captured by a net that was specially prepared just in case she is in the laboratory, that's the first time one of his inventions worked right with her. Hell, he forgot that was there too! Things were going the way he worked it to be, with a few mishaps, likewise, it counts as a success regardless. He let out a laugh at the peculiarity of it all, though ending up sounding foreboding more than anything. Oh, what is he? A villain?
"That's what you get for stealing my research," He snatches his paper back from DeeDee, his eyebrows raising to his hair and he grins. It was a pleasant greeting to have it mostly unchanged, with the exceptions of a few doodles of herself, ballet shoes, and rainbows – he considers it an accessory to his paper, as long as the information written down is seen, he doesn't have to worry a single thing. Confident in his actions, he smooths his hair, plucking out the loose ends in the seams of his coat, he can't afford to look less than stellar now for school, could he? What would everyone think? Looking at his wrist and he taps it, a watch unfolds, metals shooting out to form a panel with a screen at the middle. He checks the time and – It's 6:00 AM?!
His expression drops to horror, and so did his glasses too. Slipping away on the middle of his misery party. He frowns at the glasses, along the lines of blaming it for being the one who jumped out of his face. He tries to pick it up and fails to grip it from the frame, goddamn it, why must his eyes be so blurred?
DeeDee smiles innocently and picks it up for him, he gawks, realizing that DeeDee was freed, “Not one word from you.” he wags his finger to her and DeeDee blinks at it. “Okay!” She exclaims, right near his ears. Ugh, her infuriatingly modulated voice that feels like she can’t hear herself. Whatever, he needs to leave, school is waiting around the corner and so are their parents.
...
He had the decency to look sheepish when he saw the displeased features on his parents’ faces, he knew DeeDee’s hindrances to his goals had put a halt to his plans, yet it was the last straw when he earned his parents’ ire due to her constant interference to even executing any of his habitual tendencies at all whatsoever, which includes his hygiene and arrangements of his school items in his backpack. He was livid for a humiliation he was about to be the recipient of, safe to say, DeeDee won’t receive any favorable treatment from him anytime soon.
"Dexter, DeeDee..." His mom started reproachfully, he gulped his sentiments of fright down, calm his rapidly beating heart! He thumped his chest lightly, hiding it from clear view for his mother not to question what he was doing, and intertwined his hands together so tightly, the pressure left marks. His sister didn't fare any better and a vengeful part of him deemed it a slight victory in his case.
"What took you so long?" His father looked through the rearview mirror, Dexter and DeeDee glanced at each other on what gave the impression of telepathically communicating amongst each other. Dexter narrows his eyes at DeeDee as if he wanted to vocalize that she was to account for the both of them. DeeDee cracked a grin, though resembled more of a grimace than a genuine smile, "Oh, the bathroom ran out of water, it was a long fight we had there, you locked the bathroom door right at me, right Dexter?" She lamely teases, of course it isn't complete if there isn't DeeDee's hauling of their parents' scrutiny to his way.
His frown creases deepened, "It was nothing." And truthfully it wasn't a lie, the lie DeeDee told never happened. To simply put it, nothing.
Then the conversation was over, cut short if you will. There were many words left to say, nevertheless, they never broke the pause. The silence grew longer and nobody spoke a word, Dexter laid his head on the seat, this type of situation is what is somewhat tolerable to him, scratch it, it was his saving grace. He was neither called in or an active participant, he supposes he can deal with the matters that is to come by the time he arrives at the destination, for now... he can relax into the theories he had in mind.
How much of it is his mind, and how much his body, and whether if the physical distinctions may end...