Monica

Alarms blasted somewhere across the back of Monica's mind, warning her not to rush into anything. She had a teenage girl depending on her, and her temper would compromise any stability Abby had left. But if Monica didn't confront Benson now, if she didn't try to stop him from harming yet another person, she'd not only allow that monster to win, but she'd become complicit in the deaths to follow.

What was more important: survival or stopping the true serpent wearing a man's skin?

Abby would be safe with Diego and Taylor. Monica hadn't spent enough time with Abby to be of any importance to the young girl; hopefully, the loss wouldn't be too great if Monica failed, but she couldn't let Benson win. Not again. He'd already gone too far in murdering those people and experimenting on them. He'd crossed a serious line through her research when she'd already been reluctant to help. If not for Jeannie, Monica might have faced her fears and left with Jayson. Maybe he'd even be alive if she'd had more courage.

Decision made by fate and fury on behalf of the victims, Monica speed-walked through the hall, unhindered by anyone this late at night. Benson could very well be asleep himself, and getting access to his quarters would be all too easy if she knocked on his door. She could pretend to need comfort, and she doubted he'd think past his little head to question her motives. Of course, that meant knowing where he lived — not something she'd ever wanted to know — and now, she kicked herself for not having a better plan.

As she neared the end of the corridor leading toward the promenade, a set of heavy, rushing footsteps made her spin around in case Benson leapt from the shadows. What she hadn't expected was to see Diego give chase.

Part of her wanted to turn and bolt, but she stayed put with the knowledge she couldn't outrun that very fit police officer. Diego had the muscles and appearance of a man who ran six miles just to get to the gym each day. Groaning, she folded her arms over her chest as he approached. "Don't try to change my mind."

Diego's dark brows furrowed as he frowned, as if pleading and sympathizing at the same time. After rubbing his palms on his black cargo pants, he reached for her, snapping his hand back to his side when Monica jumped. He then bit his lip before saying, "I know you're upset — you have every right to be, but you need to think this through. Consider the consequences and how they affect everyone around you."

Monica inhaled a sharp burst of air and clamped her mouth shut as she ground her teeth. Though unsurprising, the guilt trip was equivalent to a punch in the chest. No matter what option she chose — allowing Benson's sick experiments to continue or putting her friends and a child at risk — someone would suffer. "That's not fair," she whispered in a shaking tone as her legs threatened to give way. "We can't let him get away with this."

His nose twitched as he lowered his gaze and sighed. Like everyone else, Diego seemed exhausted; shadows beneath the eyes, uncombed beard, and new strands of gray in his longer hair she hadn't noticed before. "I agree, but not like this."

Before Monica could protest, he extended his hand. "Let's talk someplace quieter."

Translation: We don't need eavesdroppers.

She took his warm, calloused hand, and followed him past both hers and the Whittaker quarters until they reached an unfamiliar unit. Producing a key card from a retractable reel, Diego swiped the card through the reader, and the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. He then pulled her inside without a word and to the couch.

Twisting from side to side, she glanced around the room. The unit was set up like all the other executive suites: decent furniture in a modest space, two doors leading to bedrooms and another to the bathroom, kitchen with a small dining area, and probably a well-stocked pantry. "What are we doing here?"

Opposite of her, Diego angled himself on his end of the couch while Monica faced him directly, crossing her legs and not caring if she got her shoes on the furniture. She'd hoped he would do the same — his position couldn't be comfortable — but he kept his feet firmly on the ground.

If they somehow survived, Monica intended to teach him to loosen up around her and Taylor. Diego seemed to be there to stay, yet he was the only person in their tiny circle who didn't know how to kick off his damn shoes and relax like normal friends. Not that she and him were close; they didn't know each other well, but they needed to find common ground if they were all going to be together.

Diego interrupted her musings and pointed to his badge and then the ceiling. "Master keycard. John and I couldn't determine if Benson had bugged your quarters, and I'm not sure if you want a large audience while we talk."

"Not really," she admitted. She'd suspected a long time ago her home unit had been compromised and appreciated both Diego's discretion and consideration. Last time they'd been together, he'd acted jealous and almost hostile with his terse words and open glare. Tonight, he was a different person — still alert and wary, but warmer. Rubbing her index fingers over her thumbnails, she kept her shoulders hunched while staring at her hands. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"I want to know what you're thinking," he replied in a gentle tone. "Did you even have a plan when you stormed out like that?"

Monica swallowed past the tight lump in her throat and scratched her nose. Her eyes and nostrils both burned, threatening to send her into another sobbing mess if she didn't rein her emotions. "No, but I can't let him keep hurting people. He used my research for his sick experiments. He killed Jayson and so many others."

Her voice cracked when she mentioned Jayson, and tears spilled onto her cheeks when she closed her eyes. For someone she'd told herself years ago she didn't like, he'd left an impact so large, Monica felt like someone had dropkicked her.

Inching closer, Diego folded one of her hands into his and squeezed. Eyes alight with conviction, he said, "I know. No one disagrees he needs to face consequences for his actions, but you need to consider your ward and Taylor."

"They'll have you," she countered, hating herself for sounding so callous.

"True, but they need you," Diego responded, calm as ever. "That girl has already lost her parents. Taylor has lost everyone in his circle except you. John intends to deal with Benson, as do others here, but they'll lose any tactical advantage they have if you run in, all guns blazing."

Damn it, he was right, but Monica didn't see a way out of this where someone didn't get hurt. "What if they don't succeed?"

Diego dropped her hand and draped his arms in his lap, resting his elbows on his knees. Conflict stormed behind his dark eyes before he raked his fingers through his hair and exhaled. "That's an even bigger reason for you and Taylor to be as far away as possible if John and the others don't succeed. Right now, Benson has every resource at his fingertips. Do you think he'll stop his power trip with his threats eliminated? Would he continue the nice act with Taylor? Do you really believe he'll keep his distance from you?"

The message between the lines was clear: Benson would pursue her the moment no one could hold him accountable. His touch had always made her skin crawl, and the idea of anything else he might try made her stomach churn. She'd be helpless against a former marine with combat training.

Monica hugged herself to chase away the chill settling into her heart. "So, what, we just leave and give up?"

He shook his head and pursed his lips as he scratched his beard. "No. Where we're heading, you can quietly resume your research. When you find that cure, you can rest peacefully knowing Benson won't benefit from your work."

Until the next scientist came along and did Benson's bidding. But Diego was right; Monica couldn't let Abby and Taylor down. They'd both lost too much. At the same time, Monica worried for everyone else. "What if Benson succeeds? I'd be responsible for all the blood on his hands afterward."

"No, that sin is on him. If you stay, you risk more people suffering from your research and his experiments. You made a promise to protect that little girl, and your responsibility is to her."

Phrased like that, Monica sounded like a horrible guardian, comparable to neglectful parents. If she shirked her duties to Abby, Monica would lose any right to redemption, especially after...

Her breath suddenly hitched as her mind screeched to a halt before delving any deeper into a past she wanted to forget. "Damn you," she whispered.

Diego closed the rest of the distance and gathered her into his arms, where she sank willingly into his chest. Rubbing her back, he asked, "I forgot to ask if this is okay."

Unable to contain a laugh, Monica wrapped him in a tight hug as his body muffled her giggles. "That's what you're worried about?" She'd probably never tell him what she'd been through, but she felt safer with Diego than most people. It didn't hurt that he was totally gay and held no sexual interest in her. Also, his devotion to Taylor erased any doubts she might have over his sincerity. They rarely left each other's side, and Monica had no doubt Diego would protect him.

With a shrug, Diego drew away and created distance between them again. "I thought you could use the hug, but I still should have asked. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"No, you're right," she admitted. "Much as I want Benson to pay for hurting Jayson, I'd be selfish to jeopardize the people left in my life. That, and I have all my research in my quarters. If there's a way to keep searching for a cure without his involvement, we should try."

Thankfully, she'd had the sense not to use anything Benson gave her when she started working in the labs. She wrote all her notes by hand and only entered information regarding progress. Any instructions on how to isolate the strain or to create a possible cure remained firmly with her. Yet somehow, Benson had still managed to guess what she'd come up with if he was attempting to use it on other people affected by the virus.

The sooner she and the others escaped, the better. Her gut twisted when she thought of their chances for success. For humanity's shot at survival and recovery. And if, for any reason, John didn't succeed in his mission, Monica prayed Benson's reach wouldn't extend to their intended destination.

The world had never felt so heavy upon her shoulders.

Hiiiii!

This is kind of a short chapter, but I have one more chapter to cover before I get to the epilogue.

So why has this update taken so long? You know, besides the usual slowness on my end, but actually, I've been stuck on the ending. I kept changing my mind all the way until two days ago, and I knew Monica would determine the ending in one way or another as I move into the last story. I was also anxious about the tonal shift from funny to dark.  Thankfully, I watched the Orville and realized the transition is totally possible, and that it's not so far-fetched after all, but the nervousness that people will hate this is still there in my chest.

Are y'all ready for the final chapter and epilogue? Last chance for predictions. Otherwise, may you forever hold your peace as we take another trip with the remaining Soap Squad members.

As always, I thank you all so much for reading and supporting my work. ❤️