Diego: Part II

Uncharacteristically out of his room this time of the night, Taylor glanced up from the couch, setting a paperback book onto his lap. Diego hadn't realized the facility offered books, and he wondered if someone had either brought some with them, or if the raiders picked them up during a supply run. To discover this only now was a shame because books would probably become a hot commodity with electronic entertainment gone.

Taylor's eyes initially softened as Diego walked inside the quarters, but hardened the moment John appeared. His nose wrinkled as if smelling something foul. Before Diego could inquire about the former's mood, Taylor asked, "Were you planning on telling me what's on that drive? It's not like you'd have known anything if I hadn't found it first."

Diego scratched his nose to hide a grin as he moved into the kitchen, where dishes from their early dinner still sat in the sink. He'd meant to wash them earlier, but John had snatched him away to help Jeannie before he could turn on the faucet.

Keeping his back to the pair, Diego carefully stacked the dishes, not daring to run the water as he eavesdropped. Taylor wasn't an idiot, and John needed a good scolding for thinking he was clever enough to hide anything from his son.

John groaned. "Can you find out if Monica is awake? I think it's time for all of us to talk."

When Taylor didn't respond, Diego spun on his heel and leaned against the counter, curious to know Taylor's thoughts. John didn't answer the question, making his son scowl, though the latter didn't say anything as he stood and left the quarters.

Diego rested his hands on the counter behind him and leaned back, frowning. "You need to tell him the truth. This might be your last opportunity to make amends."

Left unsaid was how devastated Taylor would be to have his own chance stolen because of pride.

Entering the kitchen, John rummaged through the pantry before returning with dried beans and rice. There wasn't much in the way of fresh food outside the chow hall; these stores had been meant for eating when the main kitchen wasn't accessible, but it wasn't like they could have this conversation in public.

Placing the food on the counter and keeping his gaze downward, John whispered, "I know."

"Then what's stopping you?" Diego pressed, turning back to the sink and running the water. Why they were having a second meal was beyond him, but John increasingly took the appearance of a wraith as he often forgot to eat. And given that nothing would be guaranteed after tonight, including food, Diego decided not to spurn one of the last creature comforts left in this new world.

John moved to the other side of the dual sink, rinsing dishes as Diego washed. "I think Taylor decided the moment he arrived, our relationship couldn't be repaired. I've done everything I possibly can to apologize, and I'm not sure he wants to hear anything from me right now."

"Did Taylor tell you this, or are you assuming?"

John didn't get a chance to respond as the front door opened, drawing the pair's attention to Taylor, Monica, and her young ward in tow. Diego couldn't remember the girl's name, but recalled Monica facing down the rude nurse the day they'd all come out of quarantine. Hadn't someone been with the girl? He couldn't recall.

Like John, Monica didn't seem herself. She'd lost weight since their time in Phoenix, and her gait lacked energy. For a place meant to be safe, this facility appeared to have the opposite effect on its inhabitants.

The only person in the room with any vitality was the girl — tall and lively with a spring in her step — who stayed close to her savior. She offered everyone a polite smile while making direct eye contact with anyone looking in her direction.

Both females wore sleep shorts and camis, and the teenager's hair was mused like she'd rolled around in bed before falling asleep. Monica's hair looked marginally better, but Diego guessed she hadn't slept much since learning about Jayson's demise. Personal grooming wouldn't have been high on her list of priorities while she grieved.

Blinking heavily, she watched John with askance in her dark, puffy eyes. "Taylor said you needed to talk?"

John swallowed and nodded once before crossing the room and motioning for them to sit on the couch. "Yes. I realize it's late, but we can't put this off. Have you eaten by the way?" He added the last bit as the women sank into the cushions with the girl tucking her feet under her bottom and leaning into Monica.

"I'm not hungry," she replied, waving him off.

"Monica hasn't eaten since Taylor burst into the chow hall last night to tell her about her boyfriend," the girl announced through a yawn. Cuddling into Monica's shoulder, she closed her eyes and mumbled, "She's been crying a lot."

A humorless laugh left Monica's lips as she wrapped a maternal arm around the child. "I'm fine," she assured them with no emotion behind the words. "Adults can be sad too, Abby."

Abby angled her head upward to frown. "Well yeah, but food always makes things better. Anytime I've ever been upset, Mom or Sam made enough pasta to feed a village."

A snort threatened to escape, and Diego barely managed to stifle it. His family always had a house full of food, no matter the occasion; weddings, birthdays, quinceñeras for his cousins, funerals (especially funerals), reunions, hosting strangers... no one ever went hungry in his mother's home.

"Are you hungry, Abby?" Diego knew Monica would stick to her guns if anyone tried to persuade her to eat, but he had a feeling Monica held a soft spot for this child she'd taken in without a second thought. If anyone could convince her to change her mind, it was probably this little girl who looked to the older woman as a hero. "We have beans and rice, but I can make pasta if you'd like. I think I saw some dried noodles and canned sauce in the pantry."

Abby scrunched her nose. "Beans and rice? What is this, Texas? And do you really want to fart all night?"

This time Taylor broke the silence with a fit of giggles, earning a chuckle from Monica as well. Diego couldn't help cracking a grin himself — kids had such a way of stating weird truths with no filter.

"Pasta it is, then." Diego busied himself in the kitchen while John and Taylor reintroduced themselves for Abby's benefit, pointing out Diego as well, who shared a grin with the youth. Stashing the cans back on their shelves, he brought out the noodles and sauce before setting them on the counter and finishing the dishes.

As he worked, John sat at the kitchen table with Taylor claiming the seat opposite, and opened the conversation. "We've got a lot to discuss in a very short time. Once we're done here, you and Abby will need to pack whatever you can carry. I want you, Taylor, and Diego gone before anyone notices something amiss."

Abby bolted upright, watching John with alarm. "Have we done something wrong? What about the zombies?" Tears brimmed in her eyes as her mouth quivered. "I don't want to die."

Monica rubbed her shoulder and drew her closer, making comforting shushing noises. "It's okay, Abby. No one is going to hurt you."

"Then why is he making us leave?" she whimpered, curling into a tight ball against Monica's side.

Water left to boil, Diego approached Abby and knelt, placing himself at her level as a show of respect. Using the same tone he reserved for his younger cousins when they were upset or scared, he said, "It's okay to be afraid, but fear can be good too. It keeps us alert and reminds us we're human."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, tugging at Diego's heartstrings. He never could resist his cousins' broken hearts and tears; he'd always been the eldest, and therefore their protectors. "Hey, it's okay. We wouldn't leave if we didn't have to, but this is the only way to ensure our safety."

Abby scrubbed her face with her palms and sniffed. "We were supposed to be safe here."

And they might have been, had Benson not been running the show. "Someone bad is trying to hurt Monica and Taylor," he replied, choosing his words carefully. The last thing this girl needed was to find out her stepfather most likely had been caught in the experiments. "Mr. Whittaker is going to send us to a place where the bad guys can't find us."

Abby nodded solemnly, appearing to accept his explanation. She said nothing else as she clung to Monica, who raised her eyebrows and watched Diego with questioning eyes.

Unsure what else he could share, Diego directed his gaze to John at the table. He and Taylor had observed the exchange — the former with resignation written across his drooping features, and the latter with a deep frown.

Diego would have some explaining to do later.

Doing his best to alleviate the awkwardness of burning questions radiating from his friends, he climbed to his feet and went back into the kitchen, where the water bubbled over the heat. He could almost feel Taylor's eyes boring holes into his back, and it took all his willpower not to spin around and blame the whole situation on John. Like it or not, Diego had become involved, and he agreed with the decision to leave sooner rather than later.

"John, just tell them," Diego sighed, dropping the noodles into the pot. "Keeping secrets obviously hasn't done anyone favors, and I'm tired." Tired of lies, tired of looking over his shoulder, and tired of everything in general.

"Dad?"

From his peripheral vision, Diego caught Taylor in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table and chewing his lip. His shoulders didn't bear the usual tension he carried, but the spot between his brows creased, demanding answers through a single word.

Heating the sauce took no effort, and before he knew it, Diego was forced to confront the inevitable. He took the chair next to Taylor's good arm and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers.

Though John didn't want his son to know the full truth, Diego couldn't keep anything from him. A shudder and thrill twisted in his stomach at the realization he'd fallen fast and hard against all logic. He was all in at this point, and nothing would compel him to lie, even if it meant slapping everyone with the painful truth. Sure, it would hurt, but they had a better chance of survival if everyone laid their cards on the table.

"We're wasting time," Diego pressed, pinning John with his bad cop glare. "This is your chance to come clean."

Taylor's fingers tightened, threatening to pop a bone in Diego's hand. "What did you find on that drive? What's so awful that you need to lie to me again?"

Ouch. Straight for the jugular, but impressive for someone who ran when things got tough.

"Wait, you finally opened the drive?" Monica asked from her spot on the couch.

Once again, Diego swallowed a laugh. Of course, she knew. Why wouldn't she? Monica and Taylor were thick as thieves, and now the theft of the drive made sense. Monica must have needed that information too.

John slapped his palms on the table. "Jesus, who doesn't know about that drive?"

"Well, Jesus knows everything," Abby chirped, drawing a guffaw from Diego. That kid was alright.

Shoulders shaking with silent snickers, Taylor smirked. "She's not wrong. You always did teach me it's better to tell the truth. All that came straight from the Bible, which you read to me every night when I was a kid."

Damn, these two were something else. If this kept up, Diego would need to excuse himself before he laughed himself silly. Taylor hadn't touched a religious text once since they'd known each other. Diego didn't even know what his boyfriend's religion was, let alone if he'd ever practiced. None of those details stopped the rhetoric from being the chef's kiss of a burn to the God-fearing older man.

Monica's mouth puckered as if she, too, tried to contain herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, thank God for the dinner about to accompany the show.

With an eye roll and a huff, John glowered. "Okay, fine, but remember there are sensitive ears present."

Abby sat up and blew a raspberry, fully invested in their conversation as she crossed her legs and leaned forward. "Please. I've seen worse on the internet. And hello? Did you forget about all the zombies out there? I've witnessed gore firsthand." Then, as a random afterthought, she added, "Oh, and my mom told me all about sex a couple of years ago. She didn't want me to become a teenage mother like she did."

"Can't argue with that," Diego muttered. Before everything went to shit, kids could find anything online, from porn to stupid challenges. However, the last part made him wonder just how much of the world Abby understood. Though her responses matched that of a typical teenager, anyone who listened could see she'd been through a lot and possessed a wisdom far beyond her years.

John's face flushed bright red as his jaw twitched. He probably hadn't anticipated the conversation to derail so quickly. Clearing his throat and keeping his gaze on the table, he mumbled under his breath before shaking his head. To Monica, he said, "This is probably more relevant to you, given you work in the lab. I wasn't aware until today that Ben— your boss has been conducting his own experiments that weren't sanctioned by the council."

The color drained from Monica's already pale face. Though her chest rose and fell in shallow motions, the lack of surprise behind her eyes confirmed she already knew. She shuddered and sat up, rubbing her palms on her thighs. "As a matter of fact, I discovered this yesterday. Viraj showed me."

"Who?" Taylor and Diego asked in unison. John only arched an eyebrow.

"Doctor Amari," she elaborated. Glancing at Abby, Monica ran her bottom lip through her teeth before responding again. "He said this has been going on for awhile, and he cooperated out of fear for his safety."

"Did he explain everything?"

Monica shook her head. "Just seeing the labs was traumatic. I can tell they're monitoring people in various states of the virus, but I'm not sure what they're studying."

"It's bad," John replied. "They're not using your research for a cure. At least, not one to benefit the survivors."

Monica nodded as if she'd suspected as much, but it was Taylor to interject with his own thoughts. "So this is a biological weapon. Monica and I wondered."

Huh. Diego didn't know what to say. All this time, Taylor acted ignorant to everything around him, yet had apparently been on a mission to discover the same mysteries as everyone else.

John tilted his head and curled his lip, swiveling his head to face Monica and Taylor. "Do either of you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that was?"

"Not like you were gonna give us a straight answer," Taylor supplied with a shrug. "We haven't trusted anyone since Day One."

"I agree," Monica added, tucking her feet into the cushions and settling into the sofa. "We weren't sure how involved you were in all the conspiracies, and you'd already lied by keeping Jeannie's status from us. We had no reason to believe you after that."

Resting his elbows on the table, John rubbed his temples and dipped his head. Instead of the face of hope with an oversized ego, he appeared smaller than ever as his world crumbled. Perhaps the others couldn't see it because they had been deceived, and maybe Diego had spent too much time with him, but part of him sympathized for the ignorant wealthy man who'd only wanted to save his wife.

Diego released Taylor's hand and patted his boyfriend's leg. John needed to clear the air, but he couldn't do it alone. They couldn't part like this. And unlike Diego and his mother, these two actually had a chance to say goodbye.

"Okay, I need to get the pasta," Diego announced, standing and crossing back into the kitchen to move everything from the burners, "but there is something I'd like to say before you drag Mr. Whittaker over the coals."

Monica didn't react but Taylor glared like Diego had stabbed him in the back by siding with the enemy. So be it. They still need to do this.

Once the food was strained, the dishes set out, and everyone sat at the table with steaming plates, Diego joined them. The idea of everyone having a normal dinner in the apocalypse was ludicrous, and if they all weren't about to willingly head into danger, he'd have laughed. This place was a bubble — a false sense of safety primed to pop any moment.

Taylor didn't meet his gaze, nor did he bring a helping of food to the table. He sat with his hand in his lap while his leg bounced beneath the table.

Suddenly, Diego found himself parched, and he drained the water from his glass. He wasn't very hungry since he'd eaten earlier, and all he had left to do was finish his thought from earlier. Swallowing, he decided to go for it and spill everything. "I'm not going to deny that John lied or condone what he did. However, there are things you all need to be aware of. People have been disappearing since we arrived."

"I remember," Monica intoned, shoving her noodles around the plate with her fork. "I haven't seen Freddie since my first day out of quarantine."

"And I lost one of my trainees after Ackerman went apeshit on him," Diego added, inwardly cringing at the horrid memory. "I dropped him off at the clinic, and he was gone the next day with no explanation."

"And you think Benson had something to do with it?" Taylor asked.

Diego nodded. "We know he did. Anyone who wouldn't be missed or people who showed interest in..." He paused to face Monica and lifted his brows meaningfully.

Understanding crossed her features, and her shoulders sagged. "Interest in women who caught his eye," she finished. "Jayson was convinced something was off about him and that something bigger was happening behind the scenes."

"He was right to be wary. Benson targeted him specifically." Everyone turned to John, watching him with equal amounts of shock and slack jaws. Everyone except Diego, who hung his head at the blow they were about to receive."

John speared a noodle with his fork, but didn't eat. "Benson purposely withheld Jayson's PTSD medication. He wanted Sergeant Recklaw completely free from substances so he could enhance him with the virus."

Monica's fork fell to her plate with a clatter as Taylor gasped. No one spoke as the information sank in and thick silence hung between them.

Taylor shook his head and reached for Diego's hand, apparently forgetting he was mad. "What? How long have you— Why?"

"He was the perfect soldier," Monica uttered in a broken voice, shoving her chair away from the table. "Jayson was vulnerable, and cognitive function is the first to be affected by the virus. Breaking him and molding him into submission would have been easy. I thought it was weird for Benson to just toss him out the gate so casually. That bastard!"

Springing to her feet, she marched straight to the exit, forcing Diego to chase after her. "Monica, where are you going? We need to get out of here before he hurts anyone else."

Slapping Diego's hand away when he reached for her, she whirled on her heel and faced him. Rage colored her face in deep red as her brows slanted in determination. Tears splashed down her face, dripping onto the thin fabric of her camisole. "Do what you want. I'm going to fucking kill him. I don't care what happens to me; he needs to pay."

Before Diego could stop her, she rushed out of the room, leaving the rest of the group reeling from so much information at once.

There was still so much to be said, things to be done, and their plans would go down the drain if someone didn't stop Monica. John would have to finish this with Taylor on his own; they couldn't lose another friend, and in her state of mind, Monica could do more harm than good.

With no time to lose, Diego whipped his head toward John. "Tell him everything. I swear to God, if you leave anything out, I'll kick your ass first thing. I'm going to get Monica before she gets us all killed."

Not waiting for a response, he left the quarters and chased after Monica.

Oop, that escalated quickly. There's a saying Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I had to look this one up since it wasn't Jayson to do the scorning, and her anger fits. If Benson had tires to slash and car windows to smash, I guarantee you she'd do it right now.

But what does this mean for the remaining group? She doesn't even know about Jeannie yet! 😱 😱😱

Will John tell Taylor everything and make final amends, or will they lose their chance?

And what of Abby, her ward? Before anyone judges Monica too harshly, please keep in mind her mental state is very fragile, and no one can be expected to be perfect all the time. She's been through a lot, and losing Jayson is the straw that broke the camel's back.

Thank you all so much for reading!