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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 days ago

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The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost. After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life. His newfound PTSD is severe. His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give. His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with. He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

Next chapter

Bucky woke up screaming again, but his nightmare had morphed into reality. He thrashed in the bindings holding him, fighting against the body that was pinning him down.

“It’s me! Buck…it’s me!” a voice yelled in his ear.

Bucky froze, his mind trying to catch up. It wasn’t bindings twisted around his sweaty body, they were sheets. On the bed he was sleeping on. At home. Home. He looked at the person holding him and blinked, his widened eyes adjusting to the darkness. It was Steve, his best friend, who was staying at his parents house to help him…help him.

Bucky let out a shuddering breath and his head fell back on the pillow as his body slowly relaxed from fight or flight mode. He could hear his mother, Winnie, behind Steve somewhere, crying quietly as her husband and Bucky’s father, George, held her, whispering reassuring words to her as they watched him struggle. Bucky patted Steve’s shoulder as he adjusted the tightened sheets and blankets around him. “Thanks, punk,” Bucky said, but it came out as more of a grunt from how hoarse his voice sounded from screaming in his sleep. He’d been home for a little over a year now, but the nightmares never ceased. Sometimes they weren’t as vivid, his mind giving him a chance to get at least some rest, but other nights like tonight they were relentless, spitting one bad memory at him after another, the pain feeling real, the people looking real like they were right in front of him again, the heat, the sun, the stuffy, tiny room, sand itching in every crevice, the screams…

Bucky shook his head, trying to shake away the nightmare. His hands ran through his sweaty, matted hair as he tried to keep his eyes open, afraid of what he’d see when they closed. “I’m sorry everybody,” he said louder. “I’ll be fine. Go back to sleep.”

George let go of Winnie and stepped up to Bucky’s bed as Steve helped right the blankets around him. “Buck, we really think you should reconsider the recovery home.” Bucky shook his head immediately but George reached out and gripped his face, making Bucky look at him. Bucky was surprised to see real tears in his father’s eyes. George rarely cried, and to see his face so torn and helpless broke a piece of Bucky’s heart. “Bucky, please,” George said, his lips trembling. “Whether you like it or not, you need help that we aren’t able to give. And I desperately want to give you that help, but I don’t know how. Your mother and I have enough to cover the cost. Just please…” George’s tears spilled over and he sniffed hurriedly. “We can’t lose you. Please.”

Bucky’s own tears started to well up in his eyes. He knew George was right. He needed help. He didn’t like admitting it, he didn’t want to look weak. He wanted to be strong for those he’d lost along the way, who didn’t make it out of being a prisoner of war like he did. But he was so tired. He could feel his mind cracking like it did when he was captured, and it scared him. He slowly nodded at George as he closed his eyes and his tears finally fell.

***

“So what’s he currently taking?” Y/N asked as she took detailed notes.

“Venlafaxine, or Effexor,” Winnie stated, looking at her own notes. “At night sometimes he’ll take an Ambien to help him sleep, but it mixes with the Effexor badly and makes him drowsy or dizzy the next day, or gives him pretty severe headaches, so he tries not to. But he just…” Winnie trailed off, her voice wobbling with emotion. “He barely sleeps. He wakes up screaming almost every night. We don’t know what to do–”

“And how could you?” Y/N said quietly, reaching her hand out and taking Winnie’s hand. “No one could ever prepare for something like this. But you’re doing the right thing in asking for help. I’m glad he’s finally come around to the idea of coming here,” she smiled kindly.

“So am I,” Winnie smiled back, wiping away the fallen tears. “When does he start?”

***

Bucky, his parents, Steve and their other close friend Sam all pulled up to the recovery home a week later. Bucky looked at it in awe. It didn’t look like a sterile facility or treatment center. It was a literal house. An old Victorian house that had been renovated, with a surround porch, a large front yard that was well manicured and flower bushes along the edges. In the front drive area was an old 1950s, two-toned turquoise blue and white Chevy truck that was in immaculate condition. Near the road at the corner of the lot was a sign that read “Mama’s House: Recovery and Rehabilitation.”

“Nice place,” Sam commented as he took out Bucky’s bag from his parent’s trunk. “Looks like it belongs on the front of a postcard.”

“I like the name,” Steve said as he took in the house. “Very homey.”

Bucky nodded along with their comments. They all headed up the porch and toward the front door. George rang the doorbell and gave the door a few knocks. There was a chorus of barks and raised voices as the doorbell rang and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

The door opened to a man in a military green t-shirt and jeans, holding a large, silver-colored cane corso dog back by the collar. “Teddy, you fucker. Hi!” the man said, waving at everyone. “Sorry! He’s the home dog, didn’t quite graduate from service dog training. Which one of you is the newbie?” Bucky stepped forward, raising his hand slightly and giving the man a tight lipped smile. “Good to meet you,” the man held his hand out and Bucky hesitantly shook it. “I’m Scott Lang. Staff Sergeant in the Air Force. This is Teddy,” he gestured to the huge dog. Bucky held out a hand to Teddy and let him sniff him, which only made Teddy more excited as he pulled Scott closer and started licking Bucky’s hand. “Oh, you must be a good one, otherwise Teddy would have bitten you,” Scott laughed then turned and greeted everyone else. “The boss is out back. Come on!”

They all followed Scott through the house, looking around quickly at the old character of the home mixed with modern furnishings and amenities. As they came through the large kitchen to the back door Bucky was greeted with more people outside in a huge backyard. They were all doing different things. Gardening in one corner of the lot, some others playing basketball in another corner, two people sunbathing in a pergola covered fire pit area in the middle of the yard, and near the back he could see a few more buildings that were built beyond the main property with some more people coming in and out of them.

“Y/N!” Scott called out. He let go of Teddy who bounded out into the yard, quickly going up to every person and greeting them with a quick lick and tail wag before he ran up to a woman in the gardening area. She had looked up when Scott called and smiled brightly at him and the newcomers. She stood and dusted off her knees and gardening gloves, taking them off before petting Teddy and letting him lick her face.

“Thanks Scott! Hey Winnie!” she called back and waved.

Bucky gave his mother an amused look. “What? Someone had to come and check this place out,” Winnie teased him as she smiled and waved back to Y/N.

As Y/N approached he looked her over. She was pretty, short, and curvy, the overalls she was wearing snug around her hips and stomach and her sports bra leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was tied up and as she removed her sunglasses Bucky’s eyes slightly widened. Beautiful, he thought. Her bright smile stayed as she greeted Winnie first with a hug. “I’m sorry I’m not more presentable, I lost track of the time,” she laughed and patted off some more dirt. “Good to see you again,” she said sincerely. “And you,” she turned to Bucky, giving him a once over, “must be Bucky.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded, giving her a polite, small smile. She walked up to him with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Can I shake your hand?” she asked, looking up at him. Bucky blinked before nodding and holding his hand out to her. She carefully took it and shook his hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” she said, her voice sounding gentle. “Welcome to Mama’s House.” She then released his hand and turned to the others. “And who are these strapping young men?”

Sam preened at the attention, Steve laughing and George scoffing. “Sam Wilson, friend of the family,” Sam said, walking forward with a flirtatious smile and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N giggled and then turned to Steve.

“Steve Rogers, also a friend of the family,” Steve said, shaking her hand and smiling.

“George Barnes, father,” George said while shaking her hand. “Though I don’t know how young or strapping I am.”

Y/N then fully laughed, and Bucky couldn’t seem to stop the full smile that spread on his face. Her laugh was contagious, loud, and boisterous, ringing through the air like its own melody. She covered her mouth to quiet herself as she turned to them all. “Well, it’s wonderful to meet all of you. Would you like a tour?”

“Yes!” Sam said, looking eagerly at the house and the yard.

Y/N smiled then walked ahead of them all to the house. Bucky did a double take when he saw her back turned to them. Beneath the overalls and the sports bra were multiple long, deep scars across her back, running from the tops of her shoulders to where he couldn’t see anymore. The skin was stretched on the edges and pink in the middle of each scar. He looked toward Steve and Sam next to him who were also staring. They exchanged glances of concern before quickly falling instep.

Y/N showed them each room and had Bucky drop his bag in what would be his room. He was grateful that he wouldn’t have to share with anyone. The house was beautiful, well decorated and stocked with everything that anyone could need while staying there. It was like her own little bed and breakfast that she took immense pride in, and it showed as they walked through the house. It was well lived in, but clean and tidy.

She took them outside and showed them around the yard, then to the back buildings just off the main lot. “These are our activity and rehab buildings,” she said, walking up to the first one. “This is the rage room.” Y/N opened the door and showed them a large room filled with broken old TVs, stereos, speakers, kitchen appliances, and overall junk. In a smaller, glass walled off room were bats, hammers, and axes hung on the wall off to the side behind a thick pane of glass. “We always have someone supervising when someone wants to use the rage room. No one has access to the weapons without the supervisor key. I would like to think the point of this room is pretty obvious,” she smirked as she closed the door.

“There’s a scream room inside the therapy building,” she said as they moved to the next building. It looked more professional, with small walled off rooms as offices. “This is where most of everyone’s therapy sessions will take place. Of course that’s changeable if you so choose and your therapist is up for it. We’ve had people just take walks around the property or stay in their rooms. Whatever works for you.”

Y/N then went to the next building. “This is the greenhouse. We have the open garden in the yard and then this for more delicate things to grow. We use this for therapy as well.”

“This next building is for physical therapy,” she said as they moved on. Inside was what looked like a small gym, all kinds of equipment littered along the floor and a space off in the back that had lockers and another enclosed area that had bathrooms and showers. “It’s also a gym, not just for those who need regular physical therapy. Exercise can be great therapy.”

“And lastly, this is the comfy building,” Y/N said, her smile brightening again. It was obvious this was her favorite space. As they stepped in Bucky felt a sense of calm overcome him. The space was cozy, with every surface covered in pillows and blankets and stuffed animals. In one corner of the room was a caged off area. “That’s where we have our monthly pet playdates,” Y/N pointed to that corner. “The local animal shelter brings in some dogs or cats and we play with them. We also help sponsor a yearly adoption drive. And over there,” she pointed to a walled off area, “is the cuddle room.” She led them over to it and opened the door. Inside was a king sized bed and a couch off to the side, with a small table and a mushroom lamp. “I’m a certified cuddler, which sounds ridiculous, I know,” she said as Sam snickered in the corner, Steve slapping his arm, “but it’s extremely important for those who are learning to get comfortable being touched again. This kind of thing was very helpful for me during my rehabilitation, so I’ve made a space for it here.” Bucky gave her a short glance. She had gone through rehabilitation? For what? He quickly looked back at the bed and the couch. “The room is soundproof, so if anyone ever just needs to have a good cry, it’s a great spot for it. Anyways,” she led them all back out to the main area. “Any questions so far?”

“You taking any new cuddling clients?” Sam asked cheekily. He dodged Steve’s arm.

“Not at this time, unfortunately,” Y/N laughed. “Unless you’re a retired, struggling veteran?” Sam’s smile slipped from his face and his lips pursed as Steve eyed him wryly. Y/N huffed a laugh and then turned to Bucky and his parents. “We also do group therapy if anyone feels more comfortable with that, as well as group outings in the community. In a few weeks we’ll be going out for drinks and karaoke at the bar nearby. So, if you’d like we can go back to the house and get you settled in, and then we’ll discuss the rules and all that not-so-fun stuff.”

Bucky nodded and they all went back to the house. Y/N chatted with them as Bucky got moved in, getting his things set up slowly and methodically. When he was done they all moved downstairs to her personal office. Y/N sat at the chair at the desk while they all sat opposite her on chairs and a couch further back. “Okay, so, the not-so-fun stuff,” Y/N said, pulling out a file that had Bucky’s name on it. “Winnie already set up the payment and insurance information, and your prescription has been moved to a pharmacy here. I’ve been in contact with the VA, but of course it’s the VA, so who knows when that will be helpful,” she rolled her eyes. “Bucky,” she watched him carefully. “The house rules are breakfast will be served at 8:30 a.m., lunch at 1:00 p.m., and dinner at 6:00 p.m. If you don’t want to eat with us, you don’t have to. You’re an adult, so I’m not going to tell you when to go to bed, but I do lock up the house between 11 p.m. and midnight, so if you don’t have your key, the porch swing has a long pillow on it, but you're out of luck til the morning. If you have plans and will be out overnight, please let me know. Capiche?” Bucky nodded. “Everyone is assigned certain chores around the house and scheduled times for each of the buildings out back. You are welcome to either use them during your time slots or not, the only one you’re not allowed to miss is your sessions with your therapist. If you feel like you need more time in one versus another, we can figure out a time that won’t interfere with other people's times.” Bucky nodded again. “Each person living here right now is here because they need help. Every single one of them is dealing with some form of anxiety, depression, PTSD, and some of them need physical therapy, too. Common courtesy like not going into other people’s rooms, being aware of other’s space and things, and general kindness and civility are expected and enforced. If we all can’t get along while we’re healing, then more serious measures will be taken. And lastly,” she glanced at his parents and his friends, “you are free to leave whenever you want.”

“But–” Winnie started, looking worried.

“This is not a prison, and I am not your warden,” Y/N interrupted her. “You need to be here because you want to be here and get better. Not because your parents want it or expect it, or your friends, significant others, a job, the military, whatever else. Only you,” she said it seriously, her previous softness leaving her face. Bucky frowned but he nodded solemnly. “However, if after a period of time it seems no progress or steps forward have been taken, then I can ask you to leave if I feel we are not the right fit for you here. Sound good?”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky said again.

“And none of this ‘ma’am’ stuff,” Y/N waved off his words. “Just Y/N is fine.”

Bucky smirked. “Yes, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled widely at him. “Well,” she looked at her phone. “It’s time for me to start getting dinner ready. You can say goodbye to your family and friends and then we’ll go from there.” She stood from the desk and everyone followed her. She led them back out to the front porch and Bucky turned to his family at the bottom of the steps.

Sam stepped forward and hugged him, giving him a hard pat on the back. “You can do this, man,” Sam said, nodding at him with a confident smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, looking away.

Steve stepped up next and gave Bucky a longer hug. They had been friends since childhood, and if anyone knew how much Bucky was struggling, it was Steve. Steve squeezed him harder before pulling away and holding his arms. “I’m here for you, no matter what you need, k?” Bucky nodded with a small smile. “Till the end of the line,” Steve said, holding out a hand.

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky answered, clapping his hand into Steve’s as they hugged each other one more time.

Winnie was beside herself as she stepped up and held Bucky. “I’m so proud of you for doing this, James. We love you so much,” she cried.

“Love you, too, Ma,” Bucky said, hugging her tight before turning to his dad.

George was fighting back tears, but stepped up and held Bucky’s face like he did that night a few weeks before. He stared at him for a moment before pulling him into a hug. “My boy,” George sniffled. “My beautiful boy. I’m proud of you. For all you’ve done, and all you will do.” Bucky felt his eyes fill with tears. He and his dad had always shared a special bond. Being away from him was going to be hard. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Bucky whispered. They pulled apart and George held Bucky’s face one last time before turning away and walking with the others to the car. They all waved goodbye before driving away, Bucky raising a hand before they disappeared. He breathed deeply, quickly wiping away the wetness in his eyes before turning to face Y/N. She was still at the top step, and gave him a warm smile.

“You alright?” Y/N asked.

Bucky nodded as he walked back up the stairs. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she said simply. “Would you feel up to meeting everybody or would you like to rest?”

“I can meet everyone,” Bucky said. He wasn’t feeling social, but he could at least get all the weird greetings out of the way.

“Awesome,” she brightened again and turned back to the house.

Bucky met all the other veterans in the home. Scott, who he’d met before, was the class clown, always trying to get everyone to smile. Wanda was quiet, kept to herself, but kind. Her brother Pietro was there as well, and the complete opposite of her. He was loud, vivacious, and extremely flirty. Bucky had to hold back a laugh when Y/N very quickly and subtly put him in his place. Bruce was the oldest out of everyone, and even quieter than Wanda, but he and Y/N seemed to have a special bond between them, almost like he was a father figure to her. And lastly there was Clint. He was jittery, animated, and couldn’t seem to stop moving. He wore hearing aids, and at times would just give up speaking and start signing to Y/N, who was able to sign back to him.

“We’re all a little mad here,” Clint had said, giving Bucky an exaggerated wink. “That’s an Alice in Wonderland reference. Have you seen it? The newer one? I thought it was good. Some people didn’t think so but I liked it. So what are you here for?”

“Clint!” Y/N whisper-yelled at him, her wide eyes staring at him incredulously.

“What? We’re all fucked up. I’m just wondering why he’s fucked up,” Clint said like it was the most simple thing in the world.

Bucky huffed a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m, uh, dealing with PTSD and nightmares and uh…a few other things,” he answered, trying to be open with these new people he was going to be living with.

“Huh, yeah me too,” Clint said, wide-eyed as his head nodded frantically. “PTSD, depression, suicidal ideation, manic episodes, memory loss, lost my hearing,” he pointed to his ears, “but I gotta get better for my kids, ya know? I’ve got 3. Do you have kids? A wife? Or maybe a husband? Sorry I don’t mean to assume. I’m straight, but there’s nothing wrong if you’re not. Whatever floats your boat, ya know?”

Bucky smiled wider, enjoying Clint’s run-on thoughts. “No kids. No wife. No husband. Not really looking for anything like that right now,” he said.

Clint talked his ear off until Y/N called everyone in for dinner. As they all sat and ate, Bucky got used to the noise, the voices talking over each other, the different conversations going on, passing plates and dishes over and over. It was nice compared to how quiet his parents were, like they were walking on eggshells around him. After dinner they all started to disperse and Bucky went back up to his room. He finished unpacking the last few small things he had left and then sat on his bed, looking around the room. He had a view of the backyard and could see Teddy playing fetch with Y/N outside. He watched them for a minute, smiling at Teddy standing on his hind legs and being at eye level with Y/N, if not a smidge taller than her, as he licked her face. He could faintly hear her protesting as she shoved him off and threw the ball again, making him streak across the yard again.

Soon after she headed inside with Teddy and Bucky decided he was ready for bed. It had been a long day of driving, unpacking, and being friendly, and he felt exhausted. Just after he was dressed in his pajamas and brushed his teeth he heard a knock on his door. He opened it to see Y/N standing there in her pajamas and Teddy sitting next to her but wagging his tail excitedly at seeing Bucky.

“Hey Bucky, mind if I come in for a minute?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky agreed and stepped aside. She walked in and headed for the chair in the corner while Teddy sniffed and licked Bucky’s hands and followed him to his bed. Bucky scratched his ears as he sat on the bed again, smiling as Teddy settled his head on Bucky’s knee.

“I’m sorry to interrupt as you're getting ready for bed. But I figured we should go over your schedule,” she said.

“Right, sounds good,” Bucky agreed. As she pulled out a paper and unfolded it she read over his schedule, making notes on her phone of things that needed changing. “And lastly your comfy room times will be on Friday nights from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m. I know it’s kinda late, and at the beginning of the weekend, so if we need to move it we can figure something out if you have plans.”

“I don’t think I’ll need that,” Bucky said, his voice coming out harsh.

Y/N blinked at him. “Why not?”

“I just don’t,” Bucky said firmly, not looking at her.

Teddy’s head picked up at Bucky’s change in demeanor and bumped Bucky’s chin with his nose, a short whine coming from his throat. Y/N leaned forward in the chair, setting the paper aside. “Your mom alluded to the fact that you may have had something happen that you aren’t willing to talk about. I understand–”

“No, you don’t,” Bucky said, glaring at her.

Y/N didn’t seem angry or taken aback by his outburst. She merely sighed as she watched him. “I do, Buck. More than you could imagine.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing at her as they stared at each other. He had given the full report of what had happened to him to the doctor and commanding officer when he was rescued, because that’s what he was supposed to do, but no one else. He had a suspicion that his parents had some idea of what may have happened, but he wasn’t willing to talk about it with anyone, at least not now. But the look in Y/N’s eyes made him pause.

“Just meet with me once, and then if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again,” Y/N said imploringly.

She had a knowing look in her eye that made him curious, so after a moment he nodded. “Fine. Just once.”

“Just once,” Y/N agreed, a small smile on her face. She grabbed his schedule, stood and walked over to him, leaning down to scratch Teddy’s head before turning to the door. “I’m just down the hall, so if you need anything let me know. If those nightmares come back, me and Teddy will come running.”

Bucky patted Teddy one more time before Teddy scurried off with Y/N. She gave Bucky one last smile before closing his door. Bucky wondered at what she had said. How could she know what he’d been through? He’d been trained for torture, and yet nothing in the world could have prepared him for what he’d gone through. He shook his head and laid down, trying to calm himself before sleep took him. He really hoped it wouldn’t be too bad tonight.

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 1 #pow!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #curvy reader #trauma

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distinctlywhumpthing · 3 days ago

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Fresh Start

cw: panic attack, obsessive/compulsive behaviors. leo's usual dubious/clueless caretaker vibes. tiny mention of aiden's self-destructive behaviors. shaky trust being tested, my beloved.

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Movement sends pain radiating through Leo’s back and shoulder. His memory connects the discomfort to the hospital recliner and he bolts upright.

But they’re home. Safe.

He’s just paying the price for deciding to sleep on the floor outside Aiden’s room after a bought of anxiety convinced him he wouldn’t be able to hear if Aiden needed him. He—

Aiden’s bed is empty.

His mind races through worst-case scenarios, heart tripping along to keep pace but as soon as he fully turns around, Aiden is right there. Curled up on the hardwood, no pillow or blanket, just shy of reaching the doorway. Fallen out of bed? Collapsed? Had Leo slept through him needing help after all? He reaches for his shoulder. What if—

“Aiden? Aiden?”

The kid startles awake, a small gasp escaping his lips as he clumsily but quickly straightens to kneel. Dark eyes wide even as he blinks away sleep. He crosses his arms, hand cradled carefully in the center of his chest.

“What happened? Why were you on the floor?”

“I—I—mmm…mmm…” He shakes his head and lowers his gaze. Not a good sign. “Mmm’sorry—I’m’sorry—”

“Are the stitches okay? Is there blood on the bandages? Are you in any pain?” Leo reaches for him and Aiden flinches back, hard. Now he’s certain something is wrong.

“Mmm’good,” Aiden says, voice wavering. He still won’t make eye contact and he’s slowly, almost imperceptibly inching away from Leo.

“Did something happen? We’ll call Delia if we need to. I just have to see that you’re okay.” He reaches for him and again Aiden cowers back. He hits the futon frame and whimpers.

The sound strikes another cord of fear in Leo, doubling his panic. “You’re not in trouble but if the stitches tore or you’re in pain, I need to know.”

Aiden swallows. “I—I—mmm…mmm…”

Leo strains to hear him at all and considers just grabbing him. He has to see—

“I—I—” Aiden shakes his head, gaze still lowered. His hands tremble as he lifts his arms, turning them toward Leo.

It’s the most anguished surrender he’s ever seen.

“Hey, woah. Look at me, it’s okay.”

Aiden lifts his chin. For a split second, his expression looks incredulous before its replaced by a more familiar one of distrust and fear.

But it was enough.

The kid’s not even breathing, eyes filmed with tears as he obediently holds Leo’s gaze.

You’re scaring the shit out of him.

Leo pushes himself back quicker than necessary, earning another flinch from Aiden who crosses his arms back over his chest protectively, curling against the bed frame. Leo moves to sit in the doorway, heart still pumping adrenaline through his veins, and tries to focus on his breath.

Aiden watches him with open wariness. As defensive as day one.

This is supposed to be a fresh start, their second chance. In the six weeks since finding Aiden in the snow, Leo succeeded in isolating him and not much else. And here he is, only driving that wedge deeper. He’s supposed to be better equipped now that he’s not completely ignorant but it doesn’t seem to make a goddamn lick of difference. Leo should have admitted months ago that he wasn’t right for this but his selfish denial carried them way past the point of return.

Too little too late isn’t going to cut it anymore. The kid deserves more. Someone who’s going to fucking listen to him. Someone he can trust and rely on. He’s going to need so much support. He can’t shower without wrapping his arms and hand, which he can’t do himself. He’ll need help changing the bandages. Not to mention the antibiotics. He probably never slept well to begin with, if last night is any indication. He barely eats. He was hurting himself all along right under Leo’s nose. He fucking tried to—

Aiden sounds like he’s trying to breathe through a straw, inhales shorter and shorter. Leo looks over to find Aiden already watching him, brow furrowed.

When Aiden tilts his head, Leo realizes it’s him.

He’s the one gasping like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room.

Great.

“I’m sorry,” he forces out, but it’s barely audible. “I just—I need—”

He stumbles down the hall, sparing both of them from a backward glance, and shuts himself in the bathroom.

Leaning against the door is no good, he feels pinned there by the pressure in his chest.

God, like he just cornered Aiden.

He fumbles to turn on the sink, hands shaking. His fingers feel like precarious stacks of marbles rather than joints, skin slick from perspiration. Why did he have to replace the valve with stupid spoke handles? It takes a few tries before he can cup his hands together to hold onto any water. Given how little he’s breathing, the first splash feels like he’s waterboarding himself. He straightens, gasping and sputtering, but the innate reaction overrides his anxiety and he manages to pull in some deeper breaths. He keeps his hands under the tap and forces focus on the sensation of the cold water against his skin, the air in his lungs.

One, two, three, four…one, two, three, four…

The panic recedes the more he breathes but guilt is quick to fill the vacancy. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, letting his prescription run out. He’s useless when he’s like this.

His hands still shake as he twists off the faucet, nerves wrung out and cold. He avoids his reflection and turns to leaning against the counter while he towels his hands dry. His phone’s almost dead from not being charged all night. He stares at the chat with Delia, his string of blue bubbles filling the right side, unanswered. The last one, “What time do you get off today?” is a poor cover for his real question, “How soon can you come over?” Without hesitation, his anxiety is all too happy to supply countless awful explanations for why she hasn’t had three fucking seconds to send a single thumbs up in the last six hours. His pulse steps up again, his fingertips start to tingle.

Leo drops his phone back into his pocket and scrubs his face with his hands, forces another few rounds of deep breaths. There’s a headache building right behind his eyes. More sleep will help but he has to take care of Aiden first. Starting with an apology.

He finally turns to meet his tired, bloodshot eyes in the mirror. The lines of his face, deepened by exhaustion, make him look like he’s pushing forty and the fact that he hasn’t shaved since last weekend isn’t exactly helping. He scratches the corner of his jaw where there are a few traitorous white hairs. When he reaches for his toothbrush, he knows he’s stalling but how will he even start explaining his reaction to Aiden?

At some point, he replaced his toothbrush on the charging stand and started washing his hands. Based on the suds caught in the drain, he already washed them more than once. He can’t get stuck here, not now. His heart starts rushing again and his throat feels tight, panic and frustration balling in his chest. How many times has this happened in the last day alone?

“It hasn’t been this bad for years,” he whispers in his defense to nobody.

But he still can’t stop. Not yet. He meets his eyes in the mirror again, ignoring the flare of self-pity and disgust. Just one more time, he tells himself, trying to believe it.

Four pumps of soap. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi…

The door opens and he immediately loses count; isn’t sure if he wasn’t finished yet or if he’d already started over again. Aiden peeks through the crack, crease between his brow telling Leo he’s also biting his lip. When Leo meets his gaze in the mirror, Aiden ducks back into the hallway.

Shit.

Aiden wouldn’t have taken such a liberty without knocking first, probably more than once and only then after Leo was in here for way too long. Another total failure for the list. But at least it was enough to knock him out of the loop.

The poor kid looks like he’s expecting a hell of a lot more than Leo suggesting breakfast when he comes out into the hall. He’s pressed against the span of wall between the top of the stairs and Leo’s bedroom. Not quite adjacent to where Leo stands in the bathroom door but clearly trying to find some middle ground that isn’t retreating to his room at the end of the hall.

Leo buys them both a little space by turning to the washer and dryer to switch their laundry from last night. He wonders if Aiden notices the two extra towels he used when he needed more than one shower to feel like he could sleep. God, he’s completely unraveling.

Aiden is no more relaxed when Leo faces him again.

“Aiden, look—” he says at the same time Aiden says, “M’sorry.”

He holds up a hand and Aiden flinches.

Well, that’s about right after what he pulled. But man, if it’s not a kick in the gut while he’s down. To make matters worse, Aiden seems to think it’s his responsibility to set things right after being subjected to Leo’s irrational panic. His guilt starts to turn in to a physical ache in his chest.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Aiden watches him carefully like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, long fingers worrying the cuffs of the hoodie. “You’re not in trouble,” Leo adds, taking a note from Delia. “Just finding you on the floor—”

“Mmm….you…w-w-w—” Aiden shakes his head, swallows. “Mmm…here…” Leo waits but Aiden doesn’t say anything else, just huffs out a little sigh of exasperation before letting his gaze slide to rest on Leo’s make-shift bed. Which of course he tidied, blanket neatly folded and pillow set on top. His eyes lift to dance around Leo’s face, searching for some sign that he’s getting it.

“I was sleeping here…” Leo feels obtuse stating the basest fact he can pull out of this exchange but Aiden nods.

“I—my—” He scrunches his face up and shakes his head. He’s pinching and pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves now, grip tightening. He swallows hard twice before he tries again. “I’mmm…you…here…”

“You…” Leo hopes he’s not taking too far of a leap. “...moved onto the floor when you saw me there?”

Aiden turns his head away like he’s expecting to be slapped, gives a tiny nod.

“That’s okay, it’s okay,” Leo says quickly. “But you didn’t have to sleep on the floor just because I was. Anyway, that runner is actually pretty thick, I—” Aiden bites his lips together like he wants to say something else. “What is it?”

He knots his fingers together then separates them after a quick glance up at Leo, smoothing them against his thighs. “I—I—mmm…” He takes a deliberate step closer, halving the space between them. Does it with the air of stepping up to the chopping block. He waits for Leo to connect the dots. When he doesn’t, he lifts one of his hands, stopping just shy of brushing the back of Leo’s, before letting it fall again and tucking both behind his back.

“Oh.”

Despite his countless missteps, Aiden wanted to be closer to him.

“Well, that’s okay.” When he realizes it sounds like giving permission he amends, “I mean, of course it’s okay. You can do whatever you want. Sleep wherever you want.”

Aiden furrows his brow.

“Sorry. I just mean— We never— I was worried—” Leo takes a breath. “You…” Cried yourself to sleep in my arms. “...fell asleep and I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay. I didn’t want you to be surprised when you woke up.” He sighs. “But I guess you were anyway…”

Aiden shakes his head. “S’okay.”

This kid would let him get away with murder…and then try to apologize like he invented death. Leo has to learn to get out ahead of these things if they’re ever going to have a chance.

“Were you—Did you have bad dreams or…”

He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug but doesn’t meet Leo’s gaze.

“We’ll figure something out for tonight, yeah?”

Aiden nods. He keeps his eyes down but he’s dropped his shoulders from his ears, hands in the pocket of the hoodie. Leo wants to wrap him up in a hug, make sure knows he was never in trouble, and tell him he never has to sleep alone again if he doesn’t want to.

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that,” he blurts instead. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Dark eyes search his.

“It’s just— I panicked and I wasn’t thinking straight. After last night— After everything— It’s worse when I haven’t slept enough but it’s not your fault. It has nothing to do with you—” This word-vomit explanation is doing him no favors but he can’t seem to stop. “I promise it won’t happen again. I just want to make sure you know you didn’t do anything wrong, it was all me and I’m going to—”

Aiden opens his mouth and closes it again.

“What?”

He shakes his head, dropping his gaze.

Leo scrubs a hand over his face. “Short story long, I’m sorry for panicking.”

Aiden peeks up at him then looks down again. Slow and deliberate, he pulls his good hand out of his pocket. He keeps it low, arm bent just enough to allow him to turn his palm up. A suggestion of an invitation, rather than an overt one, and one that could easily be missed.

Leo can’t help but smile as he squeezes Aiden’s fingers.

Now Aiden ducks his chin against his chest in a good way. Not quite smiling but almost.

“How about some breakfast?”

“Mmm’yeah…mmm’thank…you…” Aiden parses the words carefully.

“Eggs and toast sound okay? I think we’re out of bacon.”

Aiden nods. “Mhm.”

He’s agreeing too quickly, making himself easy and accommodating. Is it because he’s afraid or does he think he has something to make up for? Either way, it feels like backward progress and Leo wonders all over again how he will ever rise to this occasion.

But he can think of worse ways to spend the rest of the day than trying to get a real smile out of Aiden. So at least he has somewhere to start.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nick-pascal @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain

@whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight @whumps-and-bumps

@i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney @alternateminds @taterswhump

#recovery whump #dubious caretaker #trust building #whump #pet whump #box boy whump #box boy recovery #box boy universe #bbu adjacent #conditioned whumpee #whump writing #panic attack tw #ocd tw #obsessive compulsive behaviors tw #caretaker breakdown moment #triggered caretaker triggering whumpee #domino trigger effect #shaky trust being tested

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moss-in-my-shoes · 6 hours ago

Text

-Jay Merrick Headcanons-

Bro has a CHRONIC anxiety disorder, it can be so debilitating that he can’t get out of bed, loses everything in his system, or just stands there like- shaking and dissociating.

He’s taken tons of different medications for it, but those become basically obsolete once the events of Marble Hornets happens.

Then it gets even worse! Yippee!

Was friends with Alex first before anyone else in the Marble Hornets group, they met when Jay was an emo thirteen year old and Alex was a scene fourteen year old.

The two were really good and close friends before MH went down, Alex losing his mind due to the operator in the early stages is what initially made Jay distance himself.

Jay has a really, really bad coffee addiction. It doesn’t help his anxiety. No. He doesn’t care.

Insomniac to hell and back, man does not sleep a wink until his body physically forces him to crash for fifteen hours straight.

I can see him really liking the color orange, calls it an “unappreciated color.”

Undiagnosed autism, but he never got a chance to get tested. (Or enough money, that stuff expensive)

Worked at a comic book store before MH happened, which he actually thrived at.

Knows Skully exists. Chooses to ignore that part of himself unlike the others.

While Brian and hoodie are basically intertwined and Tim has a neutral outlook when it comes to Masky, Jay HATES Skully.

That isn’t him! At all! Skully is rude, obnoxious, steals things, loves getting reactions out of people! That’s not him!

Is it?

He doesn’t want to know.

Tim and Jay are very close, having this strange trauma bond due to the operator targeting them 99% of the time.

Jay talks nonstop and Tim listens, a very sweet and Classic dynamic.

Scrawny and skinny, bro could be brushed away by the slightest gust of wind.

It’s mainly due to malnourishment caused by his anxiety, but also the lack of money he and Tim had during MH to buy filling (and protein having) meals.

Dude has had that same jacket and hat for five years and you just know he barely washes either. The only reason they don’t absolutely STANK is because he’s a fairly clean person.

Talks about rats a lot, like all the different breeds, nesting habits, pet store vs wild, rats may be his special interest.

Dungeons and Dragons fan! Loves being the DM, but will play a Dragonborn bard if not.

Alex and Jay have ran many campaigns with different groups of people, even had a small campaign in college with the local DND club.

Jay had asthma as a kid and keeps his inhaler on him in case he suddenly gets an asthma attack again or something.

Meanwhile that shit expired six years ago.

Has a journal full of information he and Tim have found out about the operator/Skully/Masky/Hoodie.

He and Brian are very awkward. Jay had always admired him during filming, but now that Brian is also half Hoodie, he doesn’t see him as the same person anymore.

Will talk your ear off about anything and everything that slightly interests him.

Has a switchblade in his shoe he got from his dad.

Has three older brothers and four younger sisters.

He doesn’t talk to any of them, or any of his family for that matter.

Used to own a pair of heelies.

The wheels broke and he got sent flying, never used them again.

Has the operator mark (the circle with an x through it) on the back of his calf on his left leg. He doesn’t know it’s there.

Draws and writes on himself to remember things.

Knows how to play basic songs on the piano.

Also trumpet for some reason?? (Middle school band class)

If he was a song, I think he’d be “Spring and a Storm” by Tally hall.

Idk why, just strikes a cord with me that it’s Jay.

Also yes, he is a trans man 100%, been on T for three years.

That’s it for now! <3

#the operator #horror #fantasy #alex kralie #brian thomas #hoodie marble hornets #jay merrick #marble hornets #masky marble hornets #skully marble hornets #tim wright #slenderman #slenderverse #headcanons #headcanon

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walkintomymystery · 1 day ago

Text

Fall Into Me

(Set after Sonic 3 - Alternate Ending)

Defeated, world-weary, and impossibly lost, Shadow allows himself to be taken back into G.U.N custody. While they decide his fate, he is housed in a secret facility hidden deep in the heart of one of the country's National Parks. Still reeling from the heartbreaks that have shaped his life, Shadow never expected to find the closest thing to a home he'd known in over fifty years.

Pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Original Female Character

Warnings for this chapter: illness, anxiety, awkwardness lmao

Chapter Six

The patchwork quilt that lay on top of Kit’s bed had been made by Lisa’s grandmother sometime around the early 1980s. Baby clothes that were no longer needed, socks with holes too big to darn, and leftover fabric from other projects had all been cut into hexagons and painstakingly sewn together over many years.

Kit ran her fingertips over the ridges of corrugated corduroy and the soft velvet of what was possibly once an evening gown. Another family’s story. The tapestry of someone else’s life.

Lisa had gifted the quilt to her just a few days after she arrived at the base. “To make you feel more at home,” she’d said. Kit wasn’t sure what that meant anymore but it had been comforting at the time.

The longer she stayed here, the more The Hill was becoming a home. She hadn’t intended that to happen. It was always supposed to be temporary.

Kit wasn’t sure how long she thought all this would last, how long she’d be staying here before Lisa figured out where she came from. But that first week had drifted into another, then month into month. Before too long, a year will have passed. If she wasn’t careful, she’d forget she ever came from somewhere else at all.

Scowling at herself, Kit tugged Lisa’s grandma’s quilt over her, tucking the corner into her tightly clenched fist.

She was being ungrateful again, but she couldn’t help it. The thought crept into her mind and made a home before she even knew it was there, just as she had carved out a niche for herself at the Hill.

Kit rolled over to stare at the grey, speckled wall.

In an attempt to make the boxy little nook she’d been assigned a bit more homely, she’d torn pages from magazines and tacked them up on the walls, arranging them by colour so that they had the appearance of wallpaper or bright paint.

She’d even scanned in photos from her favourite books, scenic vistas from Glacier and other parks, so that she could feel surrounded by nature, even inside the base’s gloomy labyrinth. They did little to calm Kit now.

The humans were risking an awful lot keeping her here. If the powers that be discovered that there was yet another unchecked alien on the planet, living and working right under their noses, there would be trouble, not only for Lisa, but for the whole base, and everything they’d been working on, all the progress they’d made, would be lost.

Kit sighed and closed her eyes, trying to settle herself enough to sleep. But it had been another full day, and her mind whirred with all she’d seen and heard.

Shadow talked a lot more than she thought he might. If she was being honest, Kit didn’t think she’d ever get more than a few words out of him when they first met. But he’d asked questions, shown interest, even shared stories of his own. He wasn’t exactly friendly but it was a start. Maybe he was finally starting to accept that he was safe here, that The Hill really was a good place.

Kit rolled over onto her other side, feeling restless and agitated as she trawled through all that Shadow had said.

She tried to reconstruct every sentence, pausing, rewinding and replaying each moment of their time together, like her afternoon in the woods with The Ultimate Lifeform had been captured on video, and all she had to do was slot it into the VCR that Mike had once spent a rainy afternoon showing her how to use.

Shadow looked so stupid in his borrowed clothes. The greatest weapon in the galaxy, the most powerful being in the universe, and he needed her sweater to keep warm. She bit back a smile.

Kit had been so embarrassed to show him her scarf (she was still learning and not making much progress) but it had been worth it, just to see the look on his face. It really did match his eyes.

Kit turned onto her back to stare up at the ceiling.

She’d told him that his eyes were pretty. What a moron. They were, but that was completely beside the point. You couldn’t just go around telling people they were pretty- That they had pretty eyes.

Groaning softly, Kit dragged her hands down her face, pressing her fingertips into the corners of her eyes and rubbing the tiredness away until they were pleasantly sore.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, complimenting Shadow or yapping away at him like an excited kid. Kit was not a talkative person. She was not giddy and excited and unserious. Or maybe she was. Maybe she used to be. Maybe she didn’t used to be but she was now. Maybe Shadow brought it out in her. Kit didn’t know which possibility made her more uncomfortable.

“Idiot,” she muttered, letting the word float up into the darkness.

The veneer of strength she’d fought hard to maintain when they first met was surely all worn away now. Yammering on about trees and asking him question after question... It was a wonder Shadow hadn’t turned back and left her there.

He was probably just humouring her, or keeping her talking for his own amusement. But then, Kit thought, he’d lowered his mask too, allowing a little of the light behind his walled eyes to shine though.

Despite all the information readily available at her fingertips, all the horror stories and the scrawled notes from scientists either long dead or completely written off as lunatics, Shadow was still a mystery, one Kit was eager to unravel.

His eyes really were beautiful. He looked so stunned when she told him. Kit was sure no one had ever said anything like that to him before. And with good reason, idiot.

She groaned again, so embarrassed at herself that it was physically painful, and turned onto her front, hiding her face in her pillow.

The base was quiet tonight. Very few of the staff went home for the weekend; Kit wasn’t the only one who’d made a home at The Hill, after all.

Glacier was so far removed that if anyone did have the weekend off, they would need to leave early to give them enough time to travel home, so Lisa was a little frantic as she said her goodbyes and told Kit to take care of herself while she was away. She was probably already on a plane right now, heading for her parents’ house in Washington.

Lisa had shown Kit photos of her family a few times, her mother and father, her older sister and younger brother, their two old dogs and the house she grew up in. A perfect family, busy and loud and full of life.

Kit had stared at the photos, picking out Lisa’s bright eyes in her mother’s face and the height she inherited from her father. She and her siblings all looked similar too, tall and lithe and clever. Lisa so clearly belonged.

It made Kit’s heart ache to think about. Did she look like anyone? Did she have a family home? Sisters, brothers, parents, grandparents? Was someone, somewhere, missing her right now? She squeezed the quilt in her fist.

Kit wanted to belong so desperately, but the base wasn’t quite a home, and apart from Lisa, these humans weren’t quite a family, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that they felt like one.

Only this planet felt familiar. Kit spent most of her time feeling parsed, split like the segments of a tangerine, but this world, the trees and the grass and the flowers, the bright blue sky and the sun on her face, they made her feel part of something.

She hoped Shadow might start to feel that way too. So he didn’t trust the humans, who could blame him? The Earth held a million stories, a million adventures. There were places to go, people to meet, things to try, and all of it was completely new and exciting and ready for her. Maybe for both of them.

Those eyes. She couldn’t get them out of her head. The way they lit up every room like a crackling fireplace, burning anyone who stood too close. He seemed to be warming up to her though. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

The way Shadow talked about his own home, about the ARK, left her feeling hollow inside too. From what she’d read, Kit found it hard to believe that that floating fortress could have felt warm and safe to anyone, but he had a family too. Or he used to. The notes were unclear. Either way, Kit knew they were more similar than either of them realised.

She turned over onto her back again, still feeling restless. As much as she tried to empty her mind, new concerns and intrusive thoughts kept pushing forward, demanding her attention.

Growing frustrated now, Kit tried to control her breathing. She drew in for four seconds, held it for another four, then released the air slowly, over and over until her heart was steady and her body had unwound. But still nothing worked.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Kit dragged herself from her bed with a sigh.

She dropped down at her desk and pulled her battered notebook towards her. She’d taken it from one of the labs sometime around her second week. There were pages missing and the edges were worn, but it was her lifeline.

Every time she remembered something, it went in the book. Every time she learned something new about this world or the one she came from, any glimpse of her old self, she wrote it down before it could slip away again. That’s how it began anyway.

The first few pages were made up of disjointed, scrambled half-memories and theories, but now that Kit had made herself at home, she’d tried to turn her attention to something more practical.

After every session, she jotted down everything Lisa had said, every new bit of jargon, every fascinating scientific concept, every piece of complicated equipment mentioned, anything that would help her concentrate her powers and help them flourish.

They’d been working together since Kit first arrived at The Hill. It started off as a quid pro quo, samples in exchange for a safe place to stay, but her role quickly grew as Kit became a fixture.

Now, she and Lisa worked together. The more the scientists learnt about her, the more Kit learned about herself and where she came from. Progress for them meant she was one step closer to getting home.

Kit stopped writing mid-sentence, her mind clouded with ersatz nostalgia. She couldn’t reminisce when she had nothing to return to, but though Kit could remember very little of that first night, there were some images that were stronger than others.

Fully awake now, she pushed back through the pea soup of her mind until it almost hurt, scrabbling in the dark for feelings and heightened senses that weren’t so much out of reach but completely nonexistent.

She could remember the voices of the rangers that found her swimming around her head. They had spoken in soft, clear tones but she couldn’t recall anything that was said.

She could remember a sudden bright white light, whatever had brought her here, and a pain that had bored into her head, like a corkscrew at either side of her skull. It still ached.

Through the base’s connection with G.U.N, Lisa had read voraciously about inter-dimensional travel, and had heard rumours of visitors from other worlds stepping from one planet to another as easily as hopping in an elevator. These portals were how the - What had Shadow called them?

“Mobians,” Kit said out loud, working her mouth around every syllable, trying the word out for the first time.

In the heavy silence of her bedroom, the term seemed completely foreign. It didn’t spark a single memory, not one glimpse of familiarity. Still, she scribbled it down, then underlined it for emphasis.

These portals were how the Mobians were able to come to Earth. And they weren’t subtle, they’d been noticed, they’d been accepted, and they’d been utilised.

Lisa couldn’t see why the power that brought the others here - this fox and his friends - couldn’t be the same power that brought Kit to Earth, and was sure the bright light she remembered was the ring-powered portals they moved through.

Kit turned a page in her notebook and began to describe in fine detail everything that had transpired during her session that evening.

Her walk with Shadow had left her exhausted. Kit hadn’t intended to go exploring that day but he just looked so lonely and overwhelmed, she couldn’t help it. He’d asked for help, whether he realised it or not, and Kit was his keeper. Her assignment was to keep Shadow safe, happy, and comfortable, and she was proud of a job well done.

Still, she hadn’t been able to keep back a yawn during her session with Lisa. It tugged at the corners of her mouth until it spilled over, and she had to hide it in her elbow.

Lisa looked up from her computer.

“Tired?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Kit nodded all the same.

“We hiked for miles today. I think Shadow’s been finding the base a little overwhelming. I think maybe it… I think it reminds him of the ARK. But he seemed happier out on the trail. Well, as happy as Shadow can seem.”

Sat atop a pristine workbench, Kit swung her legs back and forth, one then the other, as she impatiently waited for their session to begin.

Embedded in her favourite chair, Lisa tapped endlessly away at her computer, her fingers dancing over the plastic keys.

“Was he chattier today?”

In the reflection of her wide, round glasses, Kit could see strings of data racing back and forth, the endless streams of code that made up her own DNA.

“His guard is still up but he answered all my questions. He still likes to give one word answers but I guess I should be grateful for that much. He didn’t put up a fight either. Actually, I think he really enjoyed being out in the woods. He said…”

Kit stopped, thinking about the story Shadow had told her, about that iridescent bloom of phytoplankton beneath the ocean. Lost in memory, his eyes had softened, his posture more relaxed. It was perhaps the most at ease she’d ever seen him, and the closest he had come to allowing her in.

“Hm? What did he say?” Lisa asked, though she didn’t appear to be listening, her attention was still on the long streams of numbers flashing before her eyes.

What he’d shared, Kit knew that was precious. Shadow didn’t talk when he didn’t want to. He didn’t give away any part of himself easily. He might not have realised it, he might not like it if he did, but he’d entrusted her with something that belonged only to him.

Perhaps a sense of duty, perhaps a force of habit, but something beckoned for Kit to tell Lisa all she’d learnt, but for the first time, Kit found there was a pull stronger than that of her saviours.

She closed her mouth, considered her options, and said,

“Mobians. He said the others like me are called Mobians.”

“Mm, that’s interesting. Did he tell you about them?”

“Not much. I didn’t want to push too far.”

In the end, Kit ended up repeating everything Shadow had told her about these other aliens, which was admittedly very little. She didn’t even know their names, though it was fairly likely Shadow didn’t either.

It was only when Lisa began to show a spark of interest that Kit realised she might’ve made a mistake. She began to ask more and more questions, pressing Kit for information she didn’t have, and all she could do was sit there, embarrassed to have so little intel.

And worse, she’d betrayed Shadow’s trust. He hadn’t asked her to keep it a secret, surely he knew everything he told her would end up in Lisa’s ear, but had she unintentionally misled him into thinking their conversation had been private? Kit wasn’t sure, and she hated not knowing, a terrible curse since she knew so little about the world.

Finally, Lisa smiled and pushed her chair away from her desk.

“Enough about him. Let’s focus on you. Have you been practicing this week?”

“A little. It gets so tiring…”

“That’s okay, you shouldn’t force yourself. I’m glad you’re taking it steady.”

Lisa dug the headset from its box and carefully placed it over Kit’s head, humming to herself as she double-checked the wires. They ran down Kit’s spine and fitted into the side of a little machine, an unimposing white box that spat out information on reams of narrow paper.

Lisa smoothed a hand down its flank as if soothing a nervous horse and pressed her fingertips into a specific point. It chirped in response, then began to growl and hum like an old printer.

Kit used to watch this process with acute fascination but she’d been through the motions so many times, she knew every step by heart.

The computer gave a few short beeps then fell into silence again. It seemed to mean something significant because Lisa nodded to herself and wrote down a few short notes.

Kit tried to see what she was writing but couldn't make it out.

She wondered how Shadow might feel about these tests, if he ever agreed to them. Once a lab rat, always a lab rat. But now he’d tasted freedom, even if only briefly, she couldn’t imagine him settling back into the role easily, not least because he trusted Lisa and her colleagues about as far as he could throw them. Which, she thought, was probably quite far when he didn’t have the bracers on.

The harness that sat on her head was heavy and agitated her ears, but Kit tried her best to ignore it. She didn't want to aggravate the computer and affect the readings.

Shadow had made fun of them again, her ears. Every time he drew attention to them, she wanted to be annoyed, but Kit was so thrilled that she’d got him to speak, to emote, anything, that she completely forgot to be offended.

With a start, she realised that when they were out on the trail, he’d called her by her name for the very first time. She hadn’t picked up on it then, but now a sudden rush of warmth swept through her, then cooled instantly, leaving Kit with a strange prickling feeling she couldn’t name.

She tried to replicate the sound in her head. Such a short name, one syllable, three letters, but Shadow’s voice was so low and warm, he added a depth and breadth to every note until it sounded rich and complex and… Beautiful.

"Your heart rate is a little fast, are you feeling okay?"

Lisa frowned at her from behind her computer, her hand resting on top of the little machine she’d hooked Kit up to.

Now that she listened, Kit realised the soft beeping coming from it mimicked her own heartbeat. Her face burned when she realised her body had betrayed her.

Kit cleared her throat and tried to brush all thoughts of Shadow from her mind, explaining it away with an exaggerated yawn.

“Just… Tired. Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Lisa didn’t look entirely convinced but there was work to be getting on with.

Outside her bedroom, someone passed down the corridor. Clunky and quick, the steps of a guard on their way to start their shift. It must be late, the soldiers didn’t rotate until well past midnight.

Kit looked back down at the page and saw that she’d caught herself absentmindedly swirling her pen in the air, circling and circling, just barely grazing the paper so that the ink faintly surrounded where she’d written Shadow’s name.

She huffed, annoyed with herself for getting distracted, and kept scribbling down notes.

Lisa had tapped away at her computer again then turned to look at the room.

“Okay, a little warm up to help you relax. Can you move… That file over there?

Kit followed her gaze and saw a thick arch file laying on a bench across the lab. It was stacked full of papers; someone had even had to loop a large rubber band around it to keep it closed.

As easy as swatting away a fly, Kit waved her hand and lifted the binder from the counter. With a twist of her arched index finger and thumb, it cartwheeled through the air to settle gently on a bench on the opposite side of the room.

Just a few months ago, this would have caused Kit some trouble, possibly even a headache, but with Lisa’s guidance, she didn't even have to concentrate all that hard. The familiar sensation, like warm waves washing over her skin, came with relative ease now. It felt good to have this much confidence, to have full control of her own body, her own powers.

To prove she was paying attention, Kit lifted the folder again and slotted it onto a nearby shelf, tidying it away for whichever scientist had left it out.

Kit was supposed to have these sessions with Lisa a few times a week, just to keep track of her progress and monitor her vitals. It had scared her at first, but Kit understood that she was a completely foreign entity to this world. Everything about her was new and fascinating, she couldn’t blame the scientists for being so invested.

Lisa laughed and turned back to her computer screen.

“Okay, show off. Let’s try something more your speed. But tell me if it gets too much, okay? We can stop anytime. We can always try again another day when you’re not so tired.”

Guilt had dripped like poison in Kit’s gut. If she hadn’t taken Shadow on such a long hike, she wouldn’t be so exhausted. She should know her own limits. She should be more careful.

“Okay, I’m turning the machine up now, are you ready?”

Kit subconsciously slipped her fingers around the edge of the desk and gripped it tight until her knuckles began to ache. She hated this part. But she couldn’t let Lisa down.

“I’m ready.”

Lisa gave her a reassuring smile, then turned up the dial on the side of the machine.

Instantly, a sharp bolt of electricity shot through Kit’s body in less time than it took to blink. It was gone before she could register it completely but the resonant hum of energy that pulsed through her was unsettling.

Lisa leaned forward, her hand hovering over Kit’s knee. They couldn’t touch but it was nice to be reminded that she was close by.

“You okay?”

Kit’s grip on the edge of the bench tightened, her teeth clamping together as she forced her body to get used to the sensation.

This was only the fifth or sixth time that they had worked together to amplify her powers. Lisa was sure that if she pressed a little further, they would be able to unlock abilities that Kit didn’t even know she possessed.

Since Kit could remember nothing of her life before The Hill, it didn’t feel completely beyond the realm of possibility. Lisa was right to hypothesise that what was currently merely instinctual could be stretched further. Though, when she first proposed these extra sessions, Kit didn’t think it would hurt this much.

“I’m okay,” she hissed through her teeth, and forced her eyes open.

She felt a spark in the centre of her brain and knew her eyes were aglow with the purple light that pooled around her when she summoned her power. With this much energy flooding through her, she knew she could hurt Lisa if she lost control, so Kit tensed, focusing on her breathing and trying to keep everything to the centre of her body.

Lisa pulled a stack of white cards from under her desk. They were blank on one side, while the other sides showed words, colours and shapes, like the kind used to help children learn to communicate. She shuffled them, then held up a card.

“Okay, Kit. Just relax for me. Reach out and see what I see.”

So she did, for hours.

Kit stopped writing, her head suddenly feeling heavy. She could feel her eyes beginning to glaze as she recalled how it felt to have that surge of electricity shooting through her.

She had no memory of her life before The Hill, and it was painful for a lot of reasons, but none more so than the idea that all she knew, all she had to think back on in the middle of the lonely night, was the sharp burn of Lisa’s testing and the dismissive scowl of the one person on Earth who knew what it was like to be her.

With every new card, Kit focused and guessed at what could be pictured on it. Each time, Lisa made a note but never let on if she got the answer right or not.

Kit no longer felt faint every time they tried this, but it sapped all her energy. By the time Lisa ran out of cards, she felt like she’d run a marathon.

At last, Lisa smiled to herself and turned off the machine.

"Very good."

Kit sucked in a sharp breath, filling her lungs until her chest swelled under her sweater. Through the haze left by the machine, she managed to note with some small degree of pride that she didn't have a headache like she usually did after trying to tap into this power. She was getting stronger.

"Well, everything checks out fine. You’re definitely improving, Kit,” said Lisa, confirming her thoughts.

Again, Kit couldn’t help but think of Shadow, and how wonderful he’d made her name sound. His soft, deep, rich voice, his smirk as he pushed past her to take the lead, his scarlet eyes warmed by the afternoon sunlight.

“Kit?”

She looked up. Lisa had asked her a question. Hazarding a guess, Kit agreed, and this thankfully seemed to be the right answer.

Lisa hummed a happy tune to herself as she collected the data the machine had spit out, then slipped a paperclip over the corner to keep them together. She asked if Kit wanted to take a look but she declined. She was too tired to read it all and knew she wouldn't be able to understand any of it anyway.

The next test took longer and was always much tougher on her mind and body.

Lisa started the machine up again, apologising softly when Kit grunted under the strain. She picked up her cell from the desk and sent a quick message.

Just a few moments later, Iris stepped through the door and settled at the desk across from them.

“Okay, concentrate, Kit. Just close your eyes and try to relax. Empty your mind, that’s it. Don’t fight the machine, let it do its work.”

Kit tried to do as Lisa asked but the current running through her body was like sandpaper on her bare bones. She could feel the friction of every ion as they coursed through her nervous system, opening up her mind, her senses, her entire consciousness, allowing Lisa to warp them as needed.

She could still feel it now, hours later, that charge of power. It seared her muscles, leaving her twitching and twinging after every session. Lisa had once reassured her that there couldn’t possibly be any long-lasting effects, and Kit believed her, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

“Okay, you know the drill,” Lisa said. “I’m going to keep turning up the machine. Just focus on Iris.”

Kit did as she was told. She stared hard at Lisa’s colleague, trying to see past her dark hair and glinting green earrings, the freckles across her nose and her little knowing smile. Instead, she pushed through and out the other side, quieting the world around them until the same sensation that overcame her when she used her power had reached out and enveloped Iris in her mind.

“That’s it. Relax, Kit, take your time.”

The machine began to whine as Lisa cranked up its power even further.

Kit almost bit through her tongue. Straining now, she fought to keep her concentration. She was half afraid she’d put a dent in the edge of the workbench, she was gripping it so hard, so she lifted one shaking hand and tried to channel her powers to the centre of her palm.

“Tell Iris to move her hand. That’s all you have to do, Kit. Just reach out, let your mind meld with hers. Tell Iris to move her hand, just as you’re doing now.”

Something burned in the furnace of her chest, a tiny spark but it glowed white-hot. Kit tried to pinpoint it, stoke it, let it grow into something greater, but the more she tried to tighten her fist around it, the further it slipped through her fingers.

With a sharp gasp, Kit dropped her hand. She clawed for breath, rearing back abruptly, and Lisa immediately turned the machine off.

While she scanned the data it spat out, Iris rose from her chair and wrapped her cool hands around Kit’s upper arms.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. You did so good, Kit. Just catch your breath.”

Kit kept as still as possible while Iris removed the headset, frightened of incurring that awful feeling again, a pain she was sure would knock her flat if she wasn’t prepared for it.

When she was done, Lisa’s keen eyes crossed her face, studying her closely.

"You feeling okay? Be honest, Kit. We gotta make sure you’re doing alright.”

She was a lot stronger than she used to be but that didn't mean she couldn't overexert herself. There was always someone close by in case she fainted or worse, but Kit shook her head.

"I’m okay. Just winded. I’m okay, really."

It wasn’t a complete lie, she felt steady enough to talk and sit upright, but Kit barely had enough energy left to keep her body from swaying like a seasick sailor. It was difficult to keep her eyes focused for very long, and all her remaining strength was put towards not collapsing into an exhausted heap.

While Iris checked her over properly, Lisa slid the data into a thick manila folder with Kit’s name printed on the front. She went to a tall filing cabinet, selected a drawer, then slotted it between several others.

Kit kept meaning to ask where all this information had come from, but she was always too tired after her sessions to care.

In all honesty, there were some days she wished she didn’t have to go through with it all. She trusted Lisa and her colleagues with her life, but the tests had only gotten more strenuous over the past few months. What was once just a study of her abilities was now a heavy scientific scrutiny, testing her limits, breaking down barriers, and pushing her further and further every time.

But, Kit reminded herself as she put her notebook away and wrapped herself up in the warm darkness of her room, she was being ungrateful again.

If it weren’t for the rangers that found her, she wouldn't have made it through the night. If it weren’t for Lisa and her colleagues, she would never have discovered this wonderful planet and all it had to offer. She would do anything they asked, for as long as they asked. It was the least she could do. She just wished it didn’t make her sick to her stomach to think of letting them down.

She couldn’t even guess how many times Lisa had reassured her that there was absolutely no possibility of failure. They were breaking new ground every day, she said, there was no yardstick to judge their progress by. Still, the pressure grew with every unsuccessful attempt to strengthen her power. Kit didn’t want to let them down. She couldn’t let them down.

Sighing heavily to herself, Kit turned onto her side and firmly shut her eyes, as if that would ensure she slipped off to sleep faster. When that didn’t help, she tried to picture her waterfall in her mind.

She was pleased that Shadow seemed to like it there. It seemed odd to think that someone who was raised around humans had never been to Earth before. This must all be so strange for him.

Though she’d been given very little warning before his arrival, Kit thought it might be a relief to have Shadow here. But he was as close to being similar to her as Lisa was. Just another reminder that she was completely and utterly alone, despite the countless people that surrounded her in this hive-like building.

Shadow wasn’t quite Mobian, but he wasn’t human either. He lived somewhere in-between, completely unique in the universe. If she felt lonely, Kit couldn’t imagine how he must feel.

Finally, her body began to grow heavy, her breathing slowing like the soft ins and outs of the ocean.

The base was silent, the forest beyond fast asleep. The world slowed to a still, like all the flakes in a snow globe finally settling.

Kit had just begun to slip away when her ear twitched. Grimacing, she ignored it and pressed her head closer to the pillow. Then she heard it again, a sharp groan.

Kit opened her eyes.

The base was always noisy as evening fell. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have trouble falling asleep, not with the cacophony all around her. But there was always a point when the humans finally settled in for the night, and peace fell all around her at last. So she waited, lazily twisting her ear to try and catch the sound again.

When nothing came, Kit sighed and closed her eyes, grumbling under her breath.

She wasn’t going to get out of bed for a snoring soldier, or worse, two humans finding themselves with a few spare minutes and a block of unassigned quarters. Those nights were the longest; Kit often had to put her head between two pillows. But then she heard it again, a low groan, followed by a short, sharp gasp of pain.

Listening closer, Kit picked out the slow, steady heartbeats of the sleeping humans around her. Then, amongst them all, she could hear Shadow’s trembling heart. Faster, harder, smaller, it stumbled and shook out of rhythm, so discordant among all the rest that Kit was able to hone in on it in moments.

She sat up. Lisa’s quilt slid off her and slipped onto the floor but Kit hardly noticed. She listened hard, separating Shadow from the world in her mind until she could practically see the outline of him.

Kit felt her stomach drop when she realised she could hear him crying. He quieted again, and for a second she thought maybe she was mistaken. When he whimpered in pain again, Kit was out the door before she even realised what she was doing.

She raised her first to knock on his door. Now that she was closer, she could hear Shadow tossing and turning on his bunk. His strangled, agonised cries clawed in Kit’s chest. No time for courtesy.

“Please don’t kill me,” she whispered, and pushed open the door.

The room was completely dark. Kit had to narrow her eyes against the gloom to make out any recognisable shapes at all, but then she saw him, twisted at an odd angle on his bed.

“Shadow?”

Kit took a tentative step forward, allowing light from the corridor to pour into the room. She gasped when she saw him properly. Shadow’s arms and legs were bent in awkward positions that didn’t seem like they should have been possible. His back bent and his jaws hung open in a silent scream.

He twisted his head towards her, his eyes burning through the darkness. Shadow growled, his bared teeth telling her to not come any closer, but his expression contorted with agony as his body spasmed.

“Shit.”

Kit rushed to the bedside, her hands hovering over his trembling form.

“Shadow, what’s wrong? Tell me. Let me help.”

But he just groaned and turned his face away, hauling his body round to face the wall. One of his hands flew up and gripped the cold concrete, his fingertips dragging uselessly against its smooth surface.

“Shadow, please…”

Kit hesitated then tucked her fingers over his waist, pushing down so that he lay flat on his back again. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she might’ve noticed that it was the first they’d touched where they weren’t trying to hit each other.

Shadow tried to speak, probably to tell her to leave him alone, but the words caught in his constricted throat. Instead, he flung out his hand and gripped her wrist with what little strength he could muster.

Startled, Kit jumped but surprised herself when she didn’t instinctively pull out of his grip and step away. She let out a shuddering breath, ears flat to her skull, and rested her other hand over his.

“What happened? Tell me. Let me help. Please, Shadow, let me help.”

He yanked her closer so that she was bent over the bed, hovering above him. Now Kit could see that he’d sweated through his fur. His teeth were bared against the pain, twin fangs gleaming in the darkness.

“Shadow, please,” Kit squeezed his fingers, then rested her free hand on his heaving chest, right over where his heart was hammering. “Tell me what to do. What do you need?”

His eyes, wide with fear, locked with hers. The moment seemed to stretch into hours as Shadow’s frantic gaze crossed her face, determining if it was safe to trust her with this, with him.

He was panting now, his chest ragged beneath her hand, and it occurred to Kit that he was afraid, afraid of her, of what she might do to him now that he was inescapably vulnerable. The thought made her feel sick but then Shadow’s larger hand tightened around her wrist.

He couldn’t get the words out, so he raised her hand in front of his face and slipped his index finger down to tap against her bracer.

“What are you-”

Realisation hit her like a lightning bolt, crackling through her mind and down through every nerve ending.

The bracers. They were designed to cut them off from their powers. Shadow had been feeling weak and lethargic ever since they were slipped over his-

Kit pulled their entwined hands closer to her face so that she could study the gold ring that stayed snapped around Shadow’s wrist at all times.

The two around his ankles had some off with his boots, but the bands around Shadow’s wrists were impossible to remove, even after the soldiers knocked him out in the back of his transport van. Instead, they simply adapted his bracers to fit around them. The effect was unchanged, or so they thought.

They still knew very little about Shadow’s creation but Kit had trawled through Dr. Robotnik’s notes so many times, she practically knew them by heart. The rings stabilised Shadow’s powers, limiting the potential energy that surged through his body. He would burn like a furnace without them. His power was unlike anything ever seen before, and understood by so few. And they’d interfered.

Kit’s wide eyes met Shadow’s again. She knew what she had to do but it terrified her.

He squeezed her wrist hard enough to bruise, even through her bracer. Then to her shock, he opened his mouth and in a hoarse voice, he said,

“Kit… Please…”

Tears pooled in the corners of his scarlet eyes, extinguishing the flame that burned behind them.

His words dripped like ice water onto the hot panic in her chest, sizzling and evaporating on impact but ultimately cooling her resolve. She was his keeper. It was her job to keep him safe, by any means.

“Just- Just hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Kit rested his hand on his chest, trying to look more reassuring than she sounded, then turned on her heel and burst back out into the corridor.

The base was never completely dark, but as the sun set, they dimmed the fluorescent lights to follow its progression and stopped when there was just enough light to see by. To aid the inhabitants, small bulbs triggered by motion sensors were embedded along every corridor, lighting the way of anyone heading to working in the middle of the night.

Kit followed their amber eyes as she sped through the base, taking corner after corner until she finally arrived at the elevator. She jammed her thumb against the down button so hard that it stung.

The wait was agonising, and when the doors finally pinged open on the first floor of labs, Kit rushed forward so quickly, she tripped over her own feet.

She found Lisa’s lab and grabbed at the handle, yanking it so hard that it almost broke off in her hand. But it didn’t budge.

“What?”

Kit gaped at the door handle and tugged again with more precision, thinking that she just hadn’t twisted it properly in her haste. She pulled again, and again and again until the handle rattled in protest.

“No no no no no…”

Kit stood on her toes and pressed her barred fingers to the narrow window in the door, peering inside to see if there was anyone still working. The lights were all out. The labs were empty.

Bile rose up in her throat but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to stay calm.

Reason urged her to find help but there wasn’t time. Shadow could be lying dead on his bunk for all she knew. She pushed the thought away, gritting her teeth.

Kit thought all her noise might’ve alerted a soldier by now but a quick scan around found that no one was coming. In a base full of hundreds of armed guards, they chose now to give strange noises the benefit of the doubt.

Kit turned back to the door. There was one final option but it was a stupid one, one that would definitely get her in trouble.

“Fuck it.”

Kit took a few steps back then lifted both hands out in front of her. Scowling at the object in her way, she bent her fingers in towards her palms, then sharply tugged her elbows back.

The door screeched as it was wrenched off its hinges, buckling under the hazy purple glow that consumed it. Kit swept her hands to the side and the door followed, smacking into the wall opposite and leaving a huge dent.

She didn’t waste any time, she could worry about the repercussions of her actions when Shadow was alive and well.

Kit ducked under Lisa’s usual workbench and grabbed for the box where she knew the remote for their bracers was kept, then she hurried across the labs to one of the tall lockers and pulled down Shadow’s shoes. They were heavier than she expected, she almost tripped as she turned to leave the labs.

The filing cabinet in the corner caught her eye. She paused. Kit had never been in the labs alone before, she was always accompanied by Lisa or Iris or one of the other scientists. This might be her only opportunity to discover what else was in her file. But the ache to know what her adopted family really thought of her was once again drowned out by the promise she’d made to herself, to Shadow.

When Kit made it back to his room, Shadow was completely still apart from the ragged rise and fall of his ribcage. The blaze of white fur on his chest was matted with sweat and his eyes were screwed shut.

“Shadow? Shadow, I got it, I got it. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna help you.”

His jaw was so tight, she was worried Shadow would break his teeth, so she gently placed her hand against his cheek, hoping it would help him relax.

Shadow’s eyes shot open. Though pain had dulled their spark, they still seemed to glow in the darkness, lighting her way, drawing her in.

“It’s okay, it’s alright. I’ve got you, I promise,” she said softly, brushing her thumb against his warm cheek.

Shadow blinked back tears. He seemed so frightened, Kit didn’t know what to do, so she ran her fingers through the soft fur between his ears, massaging his head gently. She thought he might pull away, maybe even fight through the pain to growl at her to get off, but he didn’t.

Kit dropped the remote on the bed beside him, then moved down the bed. Shadow kept a watchful eye but he didn’t move to stop her.

“Stay still for me. Don’t move just- Just breathe.”

She knelt one knee on the mattress and carefully pulled off the thick woollen socks he’d taken to wearing to keep warm around the base. To her surprise, the red markings that ran like stocking seams up the side of his calves continued down to his feet. His colouring was so unusual, so precise, unlike anything found in the natural world. Kit had never seen anyone so alien, not even when she looked in the mirror.

It was a resounding reminder that his existence had been sketched out, blueprinted, meticulously designed and thought over for many years, more like a luxury car or a marble sculpture than a living breathing creature. Every cell of Shadow’s body had been cultivated, selected, and slotted together for a purpose, right down to the colour of his fur.

And yet, despite all the care and craftsmanship that had gone into his creation, nobody had stopped to think about how it would feel to be him. Without his aids to ease the strain, his body ceased to work. They gave him this Mobian form knowing full well it wouldn’t be able to contain the power that burned within him.

And now they were all gone, these scientists who liked to twist and shape nature to their own will, taking all culpability with them and leaving Shadow alone, in chronic pain and with so little understanding of his own body. It was almost too much to bear.

“Oh, Shadow… I’m so sorry…”

Biting back tears of her own, Kit slipped his heavy shoes over his feet. She jumped back when the gold bands immediately snapped into place around his ankles.

Shadow gasped for air, his whole body jolting.

Kit thought she heard a faint, almost mechanical whine as the rings warmed to life, but it was swallowed up by Shadow’s pained moans.

“Okay, just a few more seconds. Hold on, Shadow.”

She scrabbled for the remote and stared at the dial in its centre. She’d never held it before, she’d never even got close to it. She looked down at Shadow, then at her own bracers. Was she really doing this?

Shadow grabbed his head in both hands, groaning and seizing as another shockwave punched through his body, and Kit made her decision. She twisted the dial, then slammed her palm down on the red button.

The effect was immediate. His bracers whirred for a moment then fell completely silent.

Shadow sucked in a breath of air so deep, his back lifted off the bed. He sat bolt upright, his head tilted towards the sky, his jaw slack. It was like watching someone burst through the ocean surface and gulp down oxygen after coming dangerously close to drowning.

Shadow fell back onto the bunk so hard that its bolts rattled. He lay completely still, his eyes wide and unseeing, as if stunned.

Kit dropped the remote and tugged his leather gloves out from under his inhibitor rings, gently laying his hands back down at his sides when she was done. The deep red markings that ran along his forearms continued down to his middle and index fingers, the rest black as pitch. They ended in pointed black claws, much longer and sharper than her own.

A soft groan recaptured Kit’s attention. Shadow had closed his eyes now, his forehead creased as if he was concentrating on a complicated equation or was battling the mother of all migraines.

She realised she’d been holding her breath and heaved a quiet sigh, pushing away the fear that had bitten at her heels all the way down to the labs. He was alright. He was going to be alright.

Though Kit didn’t want to leave him, she went to the bathroom and brought him a cup of water and a damp flannel.

When she returned, Shadow was watching her, his head turned into the pillow so that only one of his eyes was visible, the other firmly closed. He was always so poised, to see him looking so scruffy and dolice seemed strange. It was almost cute.

Slowly and carefully, Kit slipped her hand under Shadow’s head and helped him sit up a little, her lip twitching in discomfort when his sharp quills poked her palm.

“I’ve got you. I promise, I’ve got you. Just breathe, Shadow.”

Kit helped him take a sip or two of water then gently laid his head back down against the pillow. She laid the damp flannel across forehead, hoping the cool water would help soothe his aching body.

A completely involuntary sigh slipped from Shadow’s mouth as he sank into the bed. He blinked a few times before slowly losing his grip on consciousness. By his sides, his clenched fists slowly relaxed into an open-palmed surrender.

Kit watched him, frozen with fear still. Her heart was hammering so loud, she was sure even Shadow’s neighbours must have been able to hear it. She clutched the cup of water in her hands, squeezing it so hard she almost cracked the glass.

“Okay…” She drew in a calming breath and slowly let it go again, trying to process all that had just transpired. “Okay… We’re okay… We’re okay…”

She placed the cup of water down on his nightstand and went to close the door, never once taking her eyes off Shadow. He still hadn’t moved. The only sign that he was still alive was the soft rise and fall of his chest. He looked smaller when he slept. Younger. Less like The Ultimate Lifeform, more like a lonely creature from somewhere far, far away.

Still no one came. Everyone was fast asleep.

She should find Iris. She should call Lisa. She should tell someone. But Kit knew they wouldn’t let her stay, and she couldn’t be sure they would know what to do with him anyway. It was her job to take care of Shadow, and Kit always did what her family asked of her.

She went back to her room and grabbed a few blankets and Lisa’s quilt, and settling them down on the floor beside his bed, she curled up and tried to get some sleep. She lay facing Shadow, just in case he stirred in the night or needed anything. But he didn’t make a sound.

She stayed there all night, drifting in and out of sleep, listening carefully for the soft but constant beat of Shadow’s heart.

When morning broke, Kit blearily went to find Iris.

She was already waiting for her at the lab, looking severely unimpressed by the state of the door. Before Kit could apologise, Iris let her know that they’d watched everything on the CCTV and that she’d called Lisa. She’d be heading back to base a day early.

The anxiety that followed rolled mercilessly through Kit’s body, making her shiver constantly and have to swallow back a sickness that couldn’t be abated.

To distract herself, she stayed in Shadow’s room and kept him company. He still hadn’t moved but Iris had done a few rudimentary tests and they were sure he was stabilising.

Kit sat with her back against Shadow’s bed, the soft in and out of his breathing a welcome break from the usual clamour of the base. His room was right at the end of the corridor, so fewer people walked by, and since everyone knew the Ultimate Lifeform was sleeping nearby, most kept their distance and their voices low.

Shadow hadn’t made any moves to make his room more personal, though that wasn’t exactly surprising. Kit gazed around at the space, noting that everything was in its place and practically untouched. It was hard to believe anyone had been living here at all.

She opened the wardrobe and found the clothes they’d found for him all hung up or folded, his shoes in a neat row on the floor. The only thing that seemed out of place was the shirt he’d slung over the CD player on his bedside table.

Kit frowned at it. She’d chosen it herself from all the junk left behind by past employees. She thought Shadow might like to listen to some music, or maybe even a late night panel show, anything to pass the time or keep him company since he wasn’t exactly the sociable type.

She hung up the shirt and switched on the radio, turning it right down so that she wouldn’t disturb Shadow, then went to sit back down by his bed and scribble in her notebook.

Kit attempted to write down all that had transpired in the last few hours, but found herself distracted by the torn look on Shadow’s face as he reached out to her. Before too long, she came back down to Earth only to realise that she’d started tracing a rough sketch of his eyes on the next page. She closed the notebook with a snap, cheeks burning.

When Lisa finally got back to the base on Sunday night, she leaned against the doorway of Shadow’s room and gazed around at the monotony of it all, before her gaze finally landed on their guest.

“He still hasn’t woken up?” she asked.

Beside her, Kit stood anxiously twisting her hands one over the other.

“Not yet. Sometimes he talks in his sleep but…”

Lisa hummed, and Kit wondered if she’d even truly heard her. She stood in silence for a moment, clearly thinking hard, and all the while Kit fidgeted and tried to keep her breathing steady.

Finally, Lisa turned and headed back out into the hall, gesturing for Kit to follow her.

“What on Earth were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, but he-”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? He could have killed you!”

Stunned, Kit shook her head.

“I don’t think he would ever do that, Lisa, he’s not-”

“If he hadn’t blacked out, he would have knocked you flat and broken out of here in a heartbeat, Kit. Who knows how many people could’ve gotten hurt! Not to mention all our work here! Down the drain. Gone. He doesn’t care about you or anyone. He’s a machine, Kit. A weapon. You can’t just-”

Lisa stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing her glasses up to her forehead.

She was wearing a new knitted sweater. Hand-made, Kit thought. Probably a gift from her mother, the family she’d dragged her away from.

Kit balled her hands into fists and pressed them against her chest as she apologised, her head bent low.

Lisa sighed and knelt down so they were more at eye-level. She put a hand on Kit’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug that was a little too tight.

“Don’t ever do anything like that ever again, okay? You’re too valuable to lose, Kit. You mean so much to us.”

She kept talking, scolding her and lecturing her on how stupidly dangerous it was to let Shadow out of her sight, let alone to switch off his bracers, but Kit was hardly listening. Instead, her gaze had found its way back to Shadow over Lisa’s shoulder.

“What now?”

“Bus driver, please look for me, 'cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see. I’m really still in prison and my love she holds the key…”

Maria was dancing, always dancing. No matter how much the doctors warned her or how her grandfather worried, she couldn’t hold still for a second. She always said she spent so much time in a hospital bed, when she was feeling better, she didn’t want to waste a single second of it when there was so much fun to be had.

“A simple yellow ribbon's what I need to set me free…”

As she sang along to the record spinning in the corner of her room, she reached for Shadow’s hands, forcing him to his feet and making him twirl around with her.

Maria laughed and laughed, and Shadow couldn’t help smiling too.

“I wrote and told her, pl-”

A gunshot rang out. A bullet he should have seen smacked into Maria’s chest from somewhere over his shoulder.

Shadow opened his eyes and stared up at the pale grey ceiling. For a few moments of blissful peace, he didn’t know where he was and he didn’t care. But then the world came crashing back down around his ears, and the last awful confusing few years of his life rushed up to greet him like a blistering gale.

Shadow slowly turned his head. He had to bite back a groan as every single one of his muscles screeched like rusted metal.

The music from his dream drifted around the room. Had it stirred his memories? Or was this just life now? Exhaustion, nightmares, and loss? Except, now that he put his sluggish mind to it, he didn’t feel quite so terrible anymore.

Shadow closed his eyes as his senses slowly returned to him. Sounds were sharper, scents were heightened and his vision was clearer. He felt better than he had in weeks. If he didn’t feel like he’d been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, he’d think he was back to his usual self.

He turned his head further and saw that the shirt he’d covered the arcane machine on his bedside table was gone. Not a complicated piece of surveillance equipment, but a music player.

Humming caught his attention. Shadow’s eyes dropped to the floor where Kit was lying on her front, scribbling in a notepad while she softly sang a duet with Tony Orlando. She’d clearly made herself at home. How long had he been asleep? How long had she been sleeping beside him?

His memories slowly came back to him in bits and pieces. The agonising sickness that had followed him for days had only grown worse until he lost all control of his body. He’d spent what felt like hours seizing and twitching on his bed, whimpering pathetically until Kit finally heard him and came to his rescue.

He couldn’t recall anything that was said but Shadow remembered how her hands had gently pressed into his body, and how fearful Kit looked as she waited for the bracers to-

The world stopped revolving. Shadow spread his fingers and felt the unlimited power of the universe surge through his blood. It crackled and growled like bottled lightning, and when he sat up on his bunk, he felt the planet begin to turn again at his command.

He held up his hand and let the raw energy that was and his alone gather and pool in the centre of his palm.

Kit was beside him in seconds. To his shock, she grabbed his outstretched hand in both of her own and pulled it to her chest, as if covering it from prying eyes.

“Nonono, please don’t,” she whispered frantically, wrapping her hands tighter around his fist.

Shadow yanked his hand back, pulling Kit with it so that she almost fell into his lap. He leaned in close, eyes burning, and bared his teeth.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

It must have hurt but she didn’t let go. Even when a bolt of crimson lightning zigzagged down his arm and up hers, Kit meekly cried out but didn’t budge.

“Please, Shadow,” Her eyes darted around as if she was afraid someone might step into the room any minute. “They let me keep them switched off but I had to promise them you weren’t going to hurt anyone or try to escape.”

“What are you-”

“Please. Please just- Just don’t. I understand, I promise I understand but please don’t. I promised and they- If they think I-”

“Kit?”

She sounded so frantic, it made Shadow falter. Kit’s eyes were wide and frightened, her grip tight around his hand. He leaned back a little, trying to process what she’d said.

“I can’t let them down. I can’t let them think I lied. I don’t have anywhere else to go, Shadow, please don’t.”

“I won’t. I’m not.”

Slowly, cautiously, he relaxed his fist.

In return, Kit took her hands back, immediately pressing them flat against her chest as if to try and steady her racing heart and shaky lungs.

Shadow tried to speak but his mouth still felt dry and sore from lack of use. He couldn’t even guess at how long he’d been asleep, it felt like another fifty years had passed.

“You… You made them turn my bracers off?”

“I turned them off.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I- How?”

“I heard you crying and you looked so- I didn’t know what to do, so I tore the door off the lab and grabbed the- But you’re okay. That’s what’s important.”

“You tore the- Kit, what happened?”

“I couldn’t let you- I had to save you.”

They stared at each other, both anticipating a fight but nothing came.

Eventually Shadow looked down at his wrists and found that his bracers had ceased their incessant low buzz. He looked back up at Kit. She was still breathing heavily, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

She’d risked everything for him. This base, these people, were all she had, and she’d gone against them to save him.

Shadow let his eyes dart across her face, then down to where her hands balled up the front of her sweater. What punishment had been dealt to make her so frightened? What had she promised them to protect him?

Music still drifted from the device beside his bed, something more uptempo now, nothing he recognised.

He went to ask what the scientists had planned for him but before he could, Kit lurched forward and punched his shoulder. It didn’t hurt at all but Shadow was so surprised, he clutched the spot she’d hit.

“Wh- Hey!”

“You idiot!” Kit jabbed her forefinger against his sternum. “I knew there was something wrong. Why didn’t you tell me? It’s my job to take care of you.”

Taken-aback, Shadow rubbed at his chest. Actually, that did hurt a bit. He was still feeling a little tender. He’d rather die than let Kit know that though.

“I don’t need you t-”

“You could have died,” Kit barrelled over him. “And you got me in trouble. I worked hard to get where I am, Shadow. I won’t have you ruining everything because you were too proud to tell me you were sick. Next time, tell me when something is wrong or else, I swear-”

“What?”

Shadow narrowed his eyes, challenging her.

Kit hesitated. Her pained expression softened as her ragged chest slowed to a regular rhythm.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been mad at him for putting himself in danger. Probably the doctor, scolding him for letting Maria overexert herself when she was supposed to be resting. He felt just as terrible as he did then. Though he didn’t trust Kit, he didn’t relish upsetting her either.

“Just don’t ever do that to me again,” she said, then in a smaller voice, “Promise me.”

His lip twitched, instinctively curling back in a dismissive sneer, but Shadow clamped his teeth over it and swallowed it down. Clinging onto some semblance of his protective apathy, he nodded without meeting her gaze.

This seemed to satisfy Kit as she dropped it.

Only then did she notice that she was still leaning over him from where he’d yanked her closer. One of her hands had shot out to grab the headboard and Kit’s knees were pressed against his thigh. She sheepishly moved back and Shadow turned his face away to hide how his cheeks burned.

Kit sat on the edge of the bed, curling her fingers around the edge of the thin mattress.

She looked exhausted, and Shadow was finding it harder and harder to pretend that he didn’t care. He wondered how many nights she had spent on his floor, keeping watch over him while he slept. The vulnerability of sickness terrified him but if there was anyone he wanted looking after him, it would be Kit.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the cheery voice of someone called Casey Kasem. He announced the next song, and Shadow looked up when he actually recognised it. Another of the records that was constantly played in that little corner of the ARK that had been home.

“Who’s Maria?“

His heart flew up into his throat. Shadow whipped his head back to face Kit and found her looking down at her hands, knotted anxiously in her lap.

”You said her name. In your sleep. A few times.” Kit’s ear flicked nervously. “Is she your friend?”

Shadow turned his face away again, pretending to listen to the radio. His chest constricted till it was difficult to catch his breath.

“She’s no one,” he said quietly, and for once, Kit left him alone.

They both stared into space, letting silence well up inside the room until it pressed against the walls, making the metal and concrete creak. Neither knew quite what to say, or what to do now.

At last, Shadow turned and leaned his weary body against the wall, letting his head fall back until it rested comfortably. He closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again.

“Thank you,” he said, quiet and unsure but no less sincere.

Kit’s large ears twitched in surprise. After a moment, she gave him the ghost of a smile and turned the radio up.

“Any time, handsome.”

Next Chapter

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