Title: Preventive repairs
Fandom: Warrior Nun
Characters: Yasmine Amunet, Mother Superion, sister Camila
Rating: G
Length: 665 words
Notes: Takes place in the time it takes for Superion and Camila to leave the flower shop and arrive at the cinema with a knocked out Yasmine.
Summary: The effects of the tranquilizer dart fade a bit sooner than expected and sister Yasmine overhears a conversation about herself.

The veil of drowsiness was slowly lifted from her while her body swayed this way and that against her will — was she in a vehicle? — and her conscience returned bit by bit although her limbs remained weak.

She tried to open her eyes but the lively discussion that reached her ears suggested it might be wiser to stay put and not reveal her awakened self for now.

“— sure about this?”

“We should know to have faith, Camila.”

An angry sigh was loud enough to hear over the din of the motor, followed by a grumble.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Camila…”

“Well, last time we had faith, we found a worm living with us. I’m not saying she’s a new father Vincent, Mother, but we don’t know much about her either and she could be a liability, couldn’t she? How do we even know she’s not behind what we saw at the flower shop and this isn’t just some elaborate way to find out where our hideout is—”

“Camila.”

Yasmine had used all of her willpower not to frown or protest at the accusations and give away that she was well aware of what was being said; Mother Superion’s firmness soothed her somewhat in its tone of gentle censure.

Some silence lingered before the talk resumed.

“We don’t know, although we can safely bet she wasn’t involved with what occurred with our sisters…”

A pause to recall the unspeakable.

“She seems genuinely willing and able to help. You know we need all the help we can get now. And I know that you feel nervous — so does she.”

Her instinct was to babble out a confirmation, to say that yes, yes, she wanted to help, that she was just awkward and maybe a bit clumsy, yes, but her whole life had been sworn to one thing and that thing was helping the warrior nun when the time came and she couldn’t afford to disappoint her grandmother or her sisters or herself.

But Yasmine stayed quiet and still, letting her head roll this way then that along with the movement and the curves made by the van they were in. See, she could be trusted with discretion! She had kept the secret of the crown of thorns, hadn’t she? They didn’t know that yet, of course, but she held steadfastly to her mission, she did it for her even as she didn’t know her yet. She could keep a secret about being awake, too; she could keep a secret about anything. If there were any leakage, a breach of any sort, it wouldn’t be on her — Yasmine had tapped the Pope’s phone without anyone noticing and contacted the OCS without calling anyone else’s attention! Wasn’t that a testament to her skill and—

The car stopped. A door opened and the two women must have gotten out judging by the sounds. Perhaps she should…

“You may open your eyes now, Yasmine.”

She froze, if unable not to comply.

“… You knew?”

As their gaze met, Mother Superion greeted her with a sly little smirk that barely lasted a second.

“This is a difficult time for our Order,” she said. “Sister Camila is much more welcoming than she might have sounded, but her apprehension is not without reason.”

Yasmine nodded.

“Don’t let us regret this, Yasmine,” Superion added, very stern, rather sad.

“I’m here to stand beside you, I swear,” she pleaded, needing to convince her, console her — to convince and console herself as well.

The older nun studied her and kept whatever conclusions she had for herself as she gestured for Yasmine to follow her and exit the car.

Yasmine was held back by the seatbelt she had forgotten to remove but quickly found her freedom again, exchanging the van for a charming old cinema Camila and Mother Superion had gone into. She was scared, eager, definitely not ready for what would come… But, now fully lucid, she walked on, as prepared as she would ever be.