Work Text:
The thing about Tyron is that he’s human, and that’s what makes him more terrifying than anything XANA has thrown at them.
Yumi and the rest of the Lyoko Warriors have never truly been frightened by humans before. Possessed humans and specters, sure, but normal everyday people? Those were much too easy to lie to, easy to evade, easy to fight.
Their enemy has always been an A.I. Nothing more than lines of code that can be shut down, if only they had the time. Deactivating towers for temporary solutions, Jeremy creating viruses and anti-viruses for more permanent solutions. They know what they have to do; they just need to get there.
But now their enemy is just a man. A man who won’t listen to them, a man who has just tried to kidnap Aelita. Who knows if anything he’s told Aelita is the truth? It doesn’t matter, not now.
Because Yumi’s just lost everything.
“Shut down the supercomputer.”
The words ring in her head, heart lurching. If the supercomputer goes, so does the Cortex. So do her friends, right into the digital sea. She shakes her head, a sharp inhale. She would have stepped back in shock if it wouldn’t be even further into the arms restraining her.
Tyron can’t be serious. Shutting down the supercomputer is one thing, but there are people - kids! - on the Cortex. Surely he’s not okay with murder?
After Aelita’s attempted kidnapping, Yumi isn’t so sure.
She thought she’d rescued Aelita from being taken somewhere, to a place none of them would be able to find her, for an uncertain purpose. Yumi had been glad to take the necklace from her, to lead Tyron in circles. She’d rather be on Lyoko, but keeping the man busy was just as important.
She’s only realizing now that she’s sent Aelita to her death.
This is her fault. If she hadn’t been caught, Tyron would still be tracking the necklace, looking for Aelita and the lab. He wouldn’t have called to find out if anyone is on the Cortex. She shouldn’t have been caught. It’s her responsibility to save them.
She’s barely aware of the words slipping from her mouth, of Tyron’s refusal to listen. Her body shakes, eyes pleading with the crazed man in front of her. She doesn’t care about XANA anymore. Her friends are in danger, her friends will die if she can’t talk Tyron out of it.
In the end, though, Yumi’s just a frightened child and Tyron is a rotten adult and no amount of pleading will lead to compromise.
She tries, one last time. Begs for her friends’ lives. “What about my friends? If you shut it down, they’ll…” She can’t bring herself to say it. Not when Tyron’s lips slip into a sneer. Her heart drops. This man is a psychopath, playing with children's lives.
She wishes they’d never turned on the supercomputer.
Yumi can do nothing but watch Tyron confirm that his supercomputer has been shut down. She doesn’t care that he could kidnap her if he wanted to, force her to lead him to the lab. All she knows is that the Cortex is gone. Her friends are gone.
Her friends are dead.
Tyron and his henchman leave. Yumi glares after them with watery eyes, defeated and furious. Her friends are dead and that man has killed them, and he’s going to get away with it.
For a second, she considers chasing after him. She’s a martial artist and he’s an old man. She can beat him in a fair fight. She can make him pay for what he’s done. Make him suffer. She can avenge Odd and Ulrich and Aelita and William.
A part of her wants to kill him. Kill them both.
She knows it’s not what her friends would want.
Moreso, she still has one friend left alive: Jeremy. If she goes to prison for murder, then he’ll truly be all alone, searching for solutions that don’t exist.
She’s left her other friends to die. She won’t leave Jeremy to go insane.
She shakes her head, eyes dropping from the mens’ retreating backs. Denial is the next emotion that pours in. Surely they got out in time? Surely Jeremy managed to materialize them?
But Yumi knows in her heart that they didn’t make it. There wouldn’t have been enough time to react, especially if they were in the Core. And she knows that Jeremy’s materialization program runs a bit delayed, that the delay is even longer the further from Lyoko they are.
They’re dead.
But she has to be sure.
She turns and runs to the sewer.
It’s when she’s underground and the stench of her surroundings hits her that she realizes what, exactly, she’s running towards.
Does she really want to know the truth? Does she really want to get confirmation that four of her friends are dead? Can’t she pretend this is any other mission and she’s just running a little bit late, and she’ll get there and they’ll tease her and she’ll roll her eyes but at least she made it in time to help?
She knows she’s lying to herself. It doesn’t work.
Her hurried pace turns into a snail’s, feet dragging. She keeps moving forward as though in a dream, grief and despair twisting inside her. She pushes back tears. She has to be strong.
The others are dead except for Jeremy. It’s her job to keep calm, to be his rock.
Easier said than done, as that passing thought nearly sends Yumi to her knees. Nausea creeps up into her throat. She chokes it back down.
She can’t break.
She can’t.
Yumi continues down the sewer in a daze. Echoes of her friends’ voices surround her. Images in her mind’s eye assault her with memories, both good and bad: running in the sewers with Ulrich to outpace a specter; Odd helping her along when a specter has caught her; her friends’ laughs and teasing each other as they round each bend; Jeremy droning on about the progress he’s made on the anti-virus or the Megapod or the Skid.
The images and sounds don’t let up, each turn in the sewer triggering a new set. There was where they’d put their skateboards and scooters years ago, where now only hers remains. There’s where she’d had a quiet breakdown after a particularly rough mission, around the corner and far behind the rest of the group. There’s where Jeremy said he’d nearly drowned. There’s where Odd and her had their first serious talk, where she could pinpoint when they’d truly become friends. That’s where Ulrich nearly sprained his ankle when he kicked his skateboard off the handrail just slightly off-balance.
There’s a memory in every wall, every turn, every inhale of sewage air.
And now she’s adding another one. The worst one.
No more Odd and Ulrich racing each other on their skateboards down the straight path leading to the bridge’s manhole. No more Jeremy and Aelita chatting alongside each other as they leisurely rode their scooters. No more William pretending to be a hotshot even while he showed off as many skateboard tricks as Odd and Ulrich.
Yumi chokes back a sob, runs a hand along the wall as she walks.
What was the last thing she’d said to each of them?
She can’t remember. Not even Aelita, who she’d seen less than twenty minutes ago.
She knows she tends to be straightforward, that she can be blunt, that she gets annoyed with the boys sometimes. Were her last words too mean? Did they know she cared for them? That if she could save them, take their place, she would?
Did they die thinking she didn’t really consider them friends?
Did they die with her name on their lips, desperate cries for her to save them?
And what about Jeremy? He’s probably blaming himself, but how much of that blame will he place on her shoulders? Does he hate her for sending Aelita to the factory instead of going herself? Does he wish it was her instead?
Yumi blinks and suddenly she’s staring at the elevator. She can’t remember arriving. She thinks that should frighten her, but her worst nightmare has already passed. Nothing can be worse than that.
She types in the code to the elevator. Her lip trembles. She forces it to stop. She can’t fall apart on Jeremy. He’ll need her.
Because they’re all that’s left.
A rush of dizziness hits her. She’s not sure if she wobbles or if it’s just the rickety elevator. She leans a hand against the wall, brows furrowed. Her grief has begun to return, pushing away the numbness and denial.
The elevator descends. Yumi sets her jaw, eyes still hazy, holds her breath. She’s not ready to face Jeremy, to see his accusing eyes, or worse, him crying over the keyboard or frantically searching for an impossible solution. She’s not ready for it to be real.
Just a little bit longer.
Please.
She wants to pretend there’s hope for just a little bit longer.
The elevator door opens.
She blinks in shock, nearly collapses at the sight. She’s dreaming. She has to be dreaming. A smile dons her face and she runs towards the group. She doesn’t know who she’s running to. Aelita makes the choice for her, meeting her halfway.
Yumi isn’t a big hugger, but she clings to Aelita, the little sister she’s never had. Seeing them all at once is too overwhelming. She closes her eyes, cradles Aelita’s head, feels the girl’s heart beating and chest moving with each breath, smells the shampoo and flowery perfume.
She hears herself speak, and it’s only when Odd replies that she allows herself to open her eyes and really look at the rest of the group. The rest of her friends, alive.
She can’t let go of Aelita. They break the hug but Yumi wraps an arm around the younger girl. She’s afraid if she lets go, they’ll all disappear, and only Jeremy will be left to accuse her of killing them all.
She still can’t believe her eyes and ears, especially after her trip down memory lane in the sewers. She participates in the conversation but doesn’t comprehend any of it. She keeps Aelita close, eyes darting from one friend to another.
She’s vaguely aware they’re going to shut down their own supercomputer. She’s stuck in place, afraid to turn back towards the elevator.
Ulrich notices first, but Odd is the one who leaps forward and brings Yumi - and Aelita, still attached to Yumi - into a hug. Yumi holds him tight in a way she rarely does with anyone, so used to being the oldest, the rock, the one that never breaks. It’s only when she can feel him against her that she believes that he’s alive.
One by one - and probably at Odd’s or Aelita’s beckoning, Yumi’s too overwhelmed to check - Ulrich, William, and Jeremy join the group hug with Yumi at the center. She breathes heavily, blinks back her tears. Stay strong.
“You must have been so scared,” Aelita says.
“It must have been just as scary for you guys,” Yumi dismisses, voice shaky. She clears her throat. She won’t cry. She won’t.
“Yeah, but right now you’re the one who needs reassurance.” Surprisingly, it’s William who speaks next. He smirks. “We’ll get our turns later.” That almost breaks her, that the others are forgoing getting their own help just to comfort her.
Odd, ever the empath, reads her like a book. “You don’t have to be strong this time. You can lean on us. We are friends, you know.”
No one contradicts him. Yumi lets out a quiet sob, then another. Her friends press in closer until she can’t tell where she ends and they begin. She’s sobbing into someone’s shoulder while someone’s hair tickles her nose. Someone’s rubbing the small of her back and another person has grabbed her hand.
She’s never felt more loved, or more relieved, in her life.
“We’re here,” someone murmurs into her hair.
“We’ve got you.”