#if i was 15 id be exploding inside my brain right now

[sodrippy]

actually im so brave and mature for not giving in to a category four anger meltdown from being so in pain and exhausted

[thesarcasticside]

Anything-$00000DDD

Summary

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

Janus is a cyborg who works for the Dragon Witch, a criminal mastermind who runs a company that designs cybernetics.

He meets Remus, a self-taught biomedical engineer, and a variety of other robotic and alien characters, all of whom are trying to convince him that he is more than just a cybernetic puppet.

But who is “Dee” if not an empty husk created only to be controlled?

General warnings

Psychological horror, body horror, cybernetics, missing limbs, artificial limbs, Non-consensual forced medical treatment, physical abuse, blood, violence, guns, mind control, permanent amnesia, manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, nightmares, streams of consciousness, unreliable narration. Content that resembles depersonalization, derealization, or dissociation

More notes, links, and chapter text under the cut

AO3 Anything, AO3 series, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

This is my story for the 2021 Storytime! Big Bang! @ts-storytime Thank you to @ben-phantomhive-trash, who is the artist I was partnered with for the event! They created this fantastic art!!!! I love it so much I can't even.

Thank you to PunkRock for helping me figure out the shorts characters and other plot things. Also thank you to AryaSkywalker, Thembo, and Carrotflowerking17 and the Big Bang 2021 discord for additional help!!!!

This fic is an alternative entry point to my (In Other Worlds) Series. This fic happens at the same time roughly as Millennia, a companion novel. You can read this fic and then check out the rest of the series, or check out the series and then read this.

Also, I don't use Janus's actual name throughout the fic for thematic and narrative reasons. You'll see. I hope that does not put you off too much. Consider it part of the angst.

Clarification of general warnings and pairings, minor spoilers

I added the tag unreliable narrator, but I will clarify that the narrator is not actively lying to the audience. This tag relates to Janus's memory issues and the uncertainty resulting from that. tbh I would not worry too much about the events being untrue, and more be concerned about these being Janus's imperfect recollection of events.

I think this fic is a bit more violent than Millennia at times, hence I added the archive warning for violence. I still feel like a teen would be fine reading this, so I am keeping the rating Teen and Up. This fic focuses the most on what I dub psychological horror (angst, mind control, memory issues, consciousness, nightmares, etc.). I also tagged this story with disassociation, and content in this fic may resemble derealization and depersonalization.

If you think I should warn/rate this fic differently, I am happy to hear feedback and reconsider.

I tagged this as Remus/Janus, but like, ya gotta squint. Mostly banter and being soft. I love romance, but I have a hard time writing it. Could be seen as platonic too.

HINT 1: KEY.

HINT 2: "kind of" not "kinda"

CHAPTER START

NAME J. D. Dedrick ID 25:35--25:44 / 51:09 ALIENRACE Dūcesnaca OCCUPATION Robotics Researcher

Chapter Warnings cybernetics, missing/artificial limbs (eye, legs), forced medical treatment/experimentation, amnesia, depersonalization/derealization/dissociation, unreliable narration, psychological horror, swearing Chapter Characters Janus, the Dragon Witch, Virgil (not by name)

He could have been anything. When he looked inside his own mind, he dug through darkness. Memories like ashes, the particles filling his lungs were all that were familiar to him—and those only felt like nothing. No fragments, just a fine powder.

He woke up to yellow in his eyes, stinging and unfocused. Lights beyond the veil flickered. He saw a figure move; he looked small. After a brief glance into the world, he began to drown. He threw everything into the yellow encasement, and after an agonizing struggle, the rush of acceleration threw him to the ground.

When the air touched his face, black fireworks exploded in his hazy vision, and the first memory he had was gone.

He woke up again, like a corpse left in the stale air for vultures: beaks plucking out his skin piece by piece. His vision blurry and halved, he stared up at the birds breaking his body into bits.

Reports say he was involved in a huge space crash. DRACANA has generously sponsored his artificiality.

That sounded like a lie. That sort of blatant untruth where there was no connection to reality tied to it. Everything his senses told him felt unreal, everything except the pain that grounded him like a shot duck.

Whispers like gossip broke into his mind between droughts of consciousness. His senses were pieced together and broken apart, like pieces of clay in a kiln shattering. Memories of vultures and lab coats glued together by agony floated through space until eventually he was awake.

Probably just one of her business rivals

Dei’dra—he knew her name—loomed over him, to his right. He could see nothing to his left. The light stung, he squinted and blinked his eye. He could feel nothing on the left side of his face. Dei’dra smiled at him.

“Wake up, dollface. Didn’t think you’d make it, but you pulled through.”

He did not know where he was. He did not know who he was. All he knew was that this woman was Dei’dra, the Dragon Witch, and he hated her.

“Well, he seems to be doing well. Might as well put him under and move onto the next stage.”

He lived out his days creating sand sculptures in his mind. He saw himself running in place, downloading skills and targets and concepts. The sand would blow away each day, leaving him with nothing to remember them by.

Between bouts of black unconsciousness, he saw grey, and white, and pale pink, brown, and blue. Abstract shapes morphing into creatures that prodded at him. Cold metal seething, machines twisting his body together like crochet. He gave nonsense names for some, not even names consisting of words, just pure thoughts.

Slowly, he lost sight of the sand in his brain, yet the grains still dripped from his ears when he shook his head. He became a part of reality. Or perhaps he became part of a hellish dream.

Darkness huddled in the damp sides of his eyes, danger snapping at his bruised joints and soles. Deep inside his chest, his heart damned, words mixed with intuitive instincts, daring his body to live beyond the yellow veil.

Stage One of Project $DEE has been completed.

$DEE was not his name. It was what he was called. One of the words that would echo in his brain. Dee. Dee. Dee. Like a rhythm, like the beeping machines. Like the ringing of the heart monitor. It was embedded in his ears. Baby words jumping around, forming pictures, babbling him into nothing.

Dee, his brain still a desert, started to make better sense of this reality he lived in. He could control his body sometimes. He could move his arms. Or what was left of his limbs. Or what they had lent him.

The second picture in his brain, the one after the yellow veil: it was the artificial lights on Lab C’s ceiling. Grey illuminated by white, he stared up at the square tiles and textured glass, like undulating waves of melted sand.

With how long he was locked in place staring up at this picture, he memorized it. He could close his eyes at any moment and picture it in its exact detail again.

“Time to get up, Doll-face. It’s time for your first mission.”

He saw Dei’dra’s face again. He felt his restraints loosen and break away.

His first mission was not all that glorious. He was lanky, unused to moving in his body. He was a wall of meat. Disposable. He followed a trail like a zombie. He barely spoke to the team he was placed in. He remembered their orders regarding him.

“He’s still pretty out of it. Give him some good experience, but we’d like to keep working on him so bring him back in one piece.”

Dee felt like a puppet, simply put. Some machine inside him aimed his cannons and lasers. He stood in place, shooting at targets. He was guided by an invisible leash by the team he was assigned to. He saw sepia shapes. Blurs of bodies. All he could feel was the emotions in his gut telling him, repeatedly:

Youaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieyouaregoingtodieagainyouaregoingtodiestoppleasestoppleaseyouaregoingtodiestopstopstopstopstop.

He was kept suspended in place while his body completed the mission. And then he was back in Lab C, mind clearer.

He was thinking in sentences now. He could monologue, like any great villain. That is what he had become, hadn’t he? Why a villain? Where had he learned that word? The more he sifted through the sand, the more words he could find he no longer remembered learning. They were just there, connected to nothing. No memory. No past life.

He kept thinking these words. And then he decided that since his jaw was not glued shut, he would give speaking a try. Garbled and slurred at first, he kept talking as much as they let him.

They made him run between ceilings of grey. They made him speak between illuminated square tiles. He practiced lines of a script. Subterfuge settled in his brain like a mirage in the distance between the settled sand.

He could walk on the unsteady ground once again. He could see. He could hear. He could experience the world around him. He gazed up at the ceiling but was interrupted by a splotch of dark violet.

Another blot. Another vulture. He stood there out of the corner of his artificial eye.

“What are you waiting for? Get on with the tests.” His voice sharp, cutting through his tongue.

This was an unusual time of day for tests. To say it was a time of day was generous. It was more like he would be experimented on for hours upon hours and then suddenly they would stop. Nothing to do but bask in the nothingness it brought.

At this point, Dee thought that he was done with most of the tests. He had his limbs. He had an eye, which he opened wider to get a better look at the violet blotch. Something about the blotch was connected to something else in his brain, but he could not quite place it.

“Well, whatever it is, get on with it, it certainly could not have waited until morning.”

It shuffled closer to him. Less of a blotch now. He could make out shapes. He could recognize his face now if he saw him again.

Air escaped his lungs, and then he said again, asking, “Whatever might you need from me today, doctor?”

The blotch was shaking. “If you are just here to sight-see, I am going back to sleep.” His eyes weighed heavily on his face, eyelids falling through his willpower.

“Are you… okay?”

No, I am not ‘okay’. I am ‘$DEE.’

“Do I LOOK okay? Yeah sure, I am right as rain, having a grand old time—feeling peachy, even.” At this point, the words just spiraled off his tongue and through his teeth. The blotch made a sound, and Dee’s frustration grew, the pain of today’s tests ricocheting in his body.

“If you aren’t here to run another one of your little tests, then just get out. Go tell your superior, or better yet, go tell Dei’dra to go fuck herself and leave me alone.”

And he left him alone. He wondered vaguely what that was all about. He then fell asleep.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “So many Dumb Ways to Die”

Ok, I am really sorry guys that I haven't posted. I got into a real intense art project that may or may not have been aggressively nerdy, and then a new season of my show came out on Netflix, so I had to binge watch that, as you do, but here you go better late than never. 

Report ID 2241570

Author Krill

Can we talk about something…. Something that annoys me greatly, and I am sick and tired of having to deal with?

No? Well TOO BAD because if I am sick and tired of it, than the rest of you are going to have to suffer with me, also if I get one more letter about how my reports are unsettling, scarring or starting to worry my superiors, than don’t bother. You can just take your complaints and shove them RIGHT UP…..

*voice from the background* Uh, Krill, are you ok.

*grumble* Yes, fine, just doing another report…. Anyway, I wanted to talk about humans, because of course you knew that, they are the only creature in the galaxy capable of annoying me so greatly. In fact, I am 100% convinced that human emotions rubbed off on me for the specific reason of giving me the ability to be pissed off.

Why, Krill, why are you so pissed off today? Well, thank you for asking, so kind of you. I am annoyed because everyone in the universe seems to be convinced that humans are indestructible killing machines incapable of dying, but I am here to tell you that that is not the case….. well I mean, it is the case, but sometimes it isn’t….

AHHHRGG

That’s just the point though, humans are simultaneously the most indestructible creatures in the galaxy while simultaneously having the FANTASTIC ability to die over the stupidest o things. So the problem becomes that you have to keep your human alive when everyone, including themselves, is convinced they are indestructible, but they are, in fact, surprisingly easy to kill. Do you know how constantly I have to worry about humans because they have this ability to get into the most dangerous situations, and of course they might just survive, but they might also just die getting out of bed.

A list of a few things humans can survive if you don’t believe me.

·         There are at least 7 humans I know of who have survived falling at terminal velocity from the sky 122 mph if anyone is asking. Ok granted there were other factors that contributed to their survival, like shattering glass, snow, and a mountain hillside, but can we just think about that for a bit?

·         Humans routinely get themselves struck by lightning, ok maybe not routinely, I looked up the statistics. About 1,000 people are insured by lightning each year and some 100 die from it just in what used to be the United States, but that means at least ONE of those people was directly struck and didn’t die….. Yeah…. Super-heated sky plasma of death…..

·         A human once survived 21 gunshot wounds……

·         Humans have survived being shot in the head, getting their lower mandible shot off or getting shot through the neck.

·         Humans also survive traumatic brain injury, and I’m not talking simply about a hit on the head, I am talking about objects being jammed into their brains. Take my friend the Commander for example, who survived a screwdriver through the eye-socket and into his brain, with minimal brain damage. MINIMAL BRAIN DAMAGE! Any brain damage should be death, but NO humans just call it MINIMAL which means, apparently, it’s no big deal.

·         They lose limbs ALL the time. I swear I am not joking. Again, take my Commander again, he got his RIPPED OFF traumatically. Humans get them blown off, ripped off, or just plain cut off because it medically relevant. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL! There was even one human who CUT OF HIS OW ARM with a pocketknife...... 

*sigh*

·         They also just casually transplant organs like it’s no big deal.

·         Horrifying diseases that make your insides hemorrhage. Yeah no big deal for humans either.

·         Most humans can survive a second degree burn covering 70% of the body. A lower percentage (but still notably a percentage) can survive 3rd degree burns over 50% of the body….. NOT LIKE ANYONE SHOULD WANT TO SURVIVE THAT. At this point it’s just cruel to keep the poor human alive.

·         HUMANS DON’T NEED HALF THEIR BRAIN…… sometimes they just effing remove it  because it’s convenient that way. HALF OF THEIR MOTHER F***ING BRAIN

·         Humans can theoretically survive for 15 seconds in the vacuum of space…… WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO BE ALIVE FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS THROUGH THE MOST HORRIBLE DEATH IMAGINABLE, I ASK YOU!

·         Or they can just survive plain straight up dying. Like they die, and as long as another human is there to pump their heart for them, they can just go right on to recover like nothing ever happened. Do you have any idea HOW INSANE THAT IS.? Humans can shake off DEATH

Yeah and no wonder humans seem indestructible, but I swear to you. Just as much as they are indestructible, they can also just go right ahead and fall apart.

·         Human organs can just go right ahead and malfunction. Just up and get inflamed and rupture ad kill them, without any provocation what- so-ever. So as a doctor, I constantly have to worry about my humans’ organs exploding.

·         Humans WILL die without sleep. The longest a human was known to last was about 11 days, and then they died.

·         A man bit his own tongue and died from infection. Surprisingly a lot of stupid ways to die end up in infection for humans, stubbing your toe, biting your tongue, biting another person, getting a PAPER CUT, or not washing yourself properly.

·         Another human stepped out of the shower, slipped and hit his head and died.

·         Oh sitting….. yes you heard me right, SITTING can kill humans. How you may ask, oh yeah it might cause blood clots in the legs that will break off and end up in the lungs…… the human body is an absolute minefield of things that can just go wrong.

·         The inability to pee, or just plain deciding not to pee because humans……. Because…..sometimes I really hate humans. I mean honestly, how are you expected to take care of an entire crew of them when their organs might explode, or they may just decide not to pee anymore.

·         Laughing…. People have died from laughing. You heard me correctly, this is just stupid. Outrageously stupid.

·         You can survive 15 seconds in the vacuum of space, but can’t survive stepping on a nail. Doesn’t that freak anyone else out because one of those seem far more extreme to me than the others.

·         Also humans have this stupid habit of shoving their nasty bits into anything small enough to fit it in, or shove something unusual up somewhere it shouldn’t be. DON’T THEY SELL THINGS SPECIFICALLY FOR THAT! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THESE STUPID THINGS.

·         Sheer stupidity, just going off the last one we discussed, sometimes human stupidity can be directly linked to death.

·         Falling down a manhole. You can survive falling from an airplane, but falling down a manhole is just out of the question.

·         Accidentally being strangled by their own scarves.

·         Choking WHILE EATING. You can survive doing stupid things, but you know what you died of YOU DIED BECAUSE YOU NEEDED TO EAT. One of the only thigs humans and other species have in common and YOU MAKE THAT THE THING THAT KILLS YOU.

·         Falling out of bed. I MEAN HONESTLY….. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

·         Or a blasted coconut could just fall from a tree and brain you in the head. The most feared and only predator species in the galaxy and you get killed by falling coconuts.

·         Or you can just trip and die, there is always that option. NO better way than to kick the bucket than by just walking minding your own business.

·         O how would you like to be speared by an icicle from your death planet, sounds fun doesn’t it.

·         Oh and if you wanted to feel horrible today, just a reminder that humans can just up and die from sadness, yeah a human can become so sad, that their heart just STOPS WORKING. WHAT THE HELL. Humans can die because they are sad.

My favorite is spontaneous organ explosion, and when I mean favorite, I mean I hate it. I have to take care of these people, and what it all boils down to is that humans die from blows to the head, and infection, but what happened when I suggested wearing helmets? THEY LAUGHED AT ME.  I am the one sitting here terrified their organs are going to spontaneously rupture, and they are over there LAUGHING AT ME!

WHY IS THIS SO HARD?

Why is it that nothing about humans makes sense? Indestructible but not, and now I have to make sure their organs don’t rupture, they eat enough, they sleep, they protect their heads, and now I have to worry about my humans being too sad.

I AM terrified.

I just want to take care of my humans. Why can’t they make it easier on me?

 Comment if there is a dumb way to die I missed, or a miraculous survival story to prove humans are indestructible :) 

[visionsofus]

Field Trips, Infinity Stones, and oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN?

CH1  |  CH2  |  CH3  |  CH4  |  CH5  |  CH6  |  CH7  |  CH8  | AO3

| CHAPTER 9 - betrayal and broken ones | 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Instinctively, Peter’s hands shot upwards, trying to grab onto anything that would stop his fall, but it was too late. As he dropped, he got the uncomfortable feeling that his stomach had been left behind and while it was a funny feeling to have on a rollercoaster, it was not as pleasant when you were about to fall to a fiery end.

Before Peter could do the whole ‘last thoughts’ thing which inevitably probably wouldn’t have been as grand as he would have liked, the wind was knocked out of him as the iron spider suit hit him square in the back. At record speed, it unravelled over his skin, a little uncomfortable considering it was going over his regular clothes, but the suit seemed to try and shift to accommodate them.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Peter yelled enthusiastically and pointed his wrist upwards, shooting a web to break his fall and swinging past his backpack grabbing it right before it fell into the inferno below. “You never disappoint, Karen.” Peter said as he landed on the floor, he had thrown Flash onto not long ago.

“Naturally, Peter.” Karen’s voice replied in his helmet. “Hostiles are currently contained to Alpha Vault 3 and Ms Potts is trying to get inside but it appears they have barricaded the doors.”

“Alright, let me get Flash down to the others and then I’ll try and work something out with Pepper.” Peter said walking over to Flash who was still unconscious. “By the way, is he ok?”

Peter’s suit did a scan of Flash and brought up a replica of Flash’s vitals on the screen before his eyes. “I believe that he has a mild concussion and bruising to his shoulder and back but nothing severe.”

“Alright, that’s good then.”

“The bruises will likely be painful.” Karen added.

“I didn’t ask.” Peter said but he grinned anyway as he hoisted Flash up and into a fireman’s lift.

“You thought it though.”

���What floor is MJ on now, has she reached the rest of the class?” Peter asked, striding out the door of the destroyed lab and towards the stairwell near the lifts. With the hand that wasn’t braced against Flash’s back he webbed up his backpack strap to stop it from tearing any more than it already had.

“Based on the limited access that I have to back up security cameras, Michelle and your classmates are currently on floor 6.” Karen told him as he reached the top of the stairs and peered down between the flights. Nothing like 11 floors to get the blood pumping before having to tackle six bad guys.

“Well, all in a day’s work, I guess.” Peter said shrugging and started to take the stairs two at a time.  

The time allowed Peter to think up what he was going to say to MJ so that she wouldn’t suspect anything. He wasn’t sure what he would say if she asked about how Peter had asked for his suit whilst hanging from a water pipe fifty feet in the air and what exactly the ‘suit’ was. It wouldn’t necessarily take a genius to connect the dots… and MJ pretty much was a genius. Perhaps she would’ve forgotten that part because of shock or something? Peter knew it was wishful thinking.

“S-Spider-Man?” Flash mumbled from behind Peter’s shoulder.

“You bet.” Peter said, deepening his voice a little to make him sound different, though he doubted Flash was in any condition to ID him. Flash mumbled something unintelligible and then stopped talking and Peter wondered whether he had passed out again.

According to the time on his suit interface, it took Peter one minute and 12 seconds to get down to his classmates, who had now reached Floor Four and counting.

Peter caught up with them in the stairwell.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat and gave a little wave as half the class and Mr Harrington turned to look back at him.

“Spider-Man!” Ned said gleefully.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Peter said walking a few more steps to Mr. Harrington, unshouldering Flash and passing him off to his teacher.

“Right… yes thank you.” Mr Harrington said guiltily, “Is he alright?”

“Just a concussion… but he should probably see a medic.” Peter added hastily, naturally a concussion was ‘just a concussion’ to him at this point. Peter had legitimate concern for the number of brain cells he himself had lost from hitting his head too hard during fights, but he supposed the situation was more critical for Flash considering the lack of brain cells he seemed to have begun with. Dammit if Flash had been awake that would have been a really good joke.

“What about Peter!” MJ said and bounded back up the stairs to him. “He was with Flash.”

“He’s fine, I uh…” Peter faltered despite having rehearsed his tale down eleven flights of stairs, “I got him out too, but he insisted on helping the civilians still upstairs, brave guy.” Peter wanted to slap himself for that last part. “Ned, good to see you again, Peter asked you to hold onto this and take very good care of it.”

Peter handed Ned his backpack and watched Ned beam as his classmates began to whisper:how does he know Spider-Man?

“Alright then,” Peter said dusting his hands off now that he had handed his cargo off. “You all head out of the building while we handle the situation up here.”

At that exact moment Flash managed to get his eyes open, groaning from where he hung supported by Mr Harrington and one of his friends. Peter rounded the next flight of stairs just in time to hear Flash’s enthusiastic, “oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN?”

Peter grinned as he leapt up onto the railing, gave a wave to the students who craned their necks out to watch him. He shot a web upwards and used it to pull himself up past flights of stairs.  

“Ms Potts has successfully breached Alpha Vault 3.” Karen informed Peter when he reached Level 15 and burst out the stairwell doors and onto the main floor.

“Shall I activate instant kill?” Karen asked.

“Nah, let’s see what we’re up against first.” Peter said as he jogged down the corridor towards the door at the end. It was, or rather had been, a heavy-duty steel alloy structure but was now lying a few feet away on the ground, having been blown out by an explosion. “Can you link me into the Rescue suit so I can communicate with Pepper?”

“Done.”

“Hi Pepper.” Peter said hesitantly as he stepped through the doorway, dodging pieces of rubble.

“Peter, what happened to your tour?” Pepper said, her voice drowned out in the middle by a loud boom.

“Oh, you know, something came up.” Peter said when he reached her.

Pepper was standing with her hands raised, pointed in the direction of another set of what seemed to be, impenetrable doors. She turned to look at him, “Good to see you changed your mind about the suit.”

“I can take care of this now if you’d like,” Peter said hesitantly, shying away from her comment. He wasn’t so sure he could ‘take care of it’ as such but wanted to offer nonetheless. What with Morgan and Happy still in the building and everything that had happened last month he wasn’t sure how involved Pepper wanted to be in the whole superhero scene.  

“I appreciate it Peter, but this is my company, my work and nobody threatens myfamily.” Pepper said fiercely.

“Ms Maximoff, Princess Shuri and Dr Banner have arrived at the premises, I have brought an elevator back online to escort them up.” Friday said speaking up from both Pepper’s suit and Peter’s.

“Friday, I just ran down eleven flights of stairs, you didn’t tell me you could do that!”

“Now isn’t the time, Peter.” Pepper said as the doors trembled. “They need to come out one way or another, it’s just a question of when. Friday, any update on what sort of weapons they have activated?”

“I am unsure, my entire system is offline behind those doors, whoever blew out Arc Output 2c knew what they were doing.”

“An inside job?” Peter asked and saw Pepper tilt her head.

“It better not be.” She said and without warning shot two blasts, one after the other at the doors before them.

“Karen, shocker webs charged please.” Peter said hearing the clicks from his wrists as the suit readied itself. At least with the iron spider suit he didn’t have to worry himself with replacing web fluid, the suit seemed to produce it on command. Peter wished that he had taken the time to study the suit in the last month and mentally kicked himself for letting his emotions prevent him from understanding his own weapon.

Pepper shot another round of pulses at the door but all they did was make dents in the metal.

“Friday, max power.” Pepper said and Peter stepped back as he heard the familiar sound of the arc repulsors building in energy. They went off with a blast and Peter threw his hands up instinctively as the doors exploded. He waited for some sort of impact, but none came.

“Heads.” Wanda Maximoff said, and Peter spun around in time to see her scarlet energy pulling what remained of the doors over their heads and behind her, past where Shuri was standing.

“Sorry we’re late.” Shuri said.  

“Bruce has gone up to try and get your systems back online so that your AI can do… whatever it is that she does.” Wanda said her powers crackling as the group stepped forward through the hole in the doors that Pepper had just created.

“Well then, let’s get rid of these bastards.” Pepper said and then looked to her companions and though Peter couldn’t see her facial expression he could guess it, “and ladies, no casualties… and Peter. I want to know why they’re here first.”

“Naturally. This is just a little hiccup compared to what we are used to.” Wanda said shrugging and raising her hands, power dancing around her fingers. They made their way past more steel doors, leading off into rooms Peter didn’t even know existed.

“Alright miss high and mighty.” Shuri joked and Wanda smiled in response.

“Shock webs charged and engaged.” Karen informed Peter and he readied his hands as they came to the end of the corridor and where the carnage began. The explosion of Arc Output 2c above them had blown through to the floor below, as it had done to the two floors above it.

Beyond the destruction was another room and inside it Peter could see the six hostiles Friday had mentioned earlier.

“Don’t use anything explosive, some of the artefacts in that room are highly reactive.” Pepper yelled and together the group of Avengers went on the offensive. Pepper made it into Alpha Vault 3 first, bashing the first guy over the head. Wanda and Shuri went in together. Shuri had disengaged her blasters but that didn’t make her any less lethal as she drew out two Vibranium daggers.

Peter was last and felt his stomach drop immediately when he got a better look at who was inside the room… Daniel. Daniel, his Launchpad mentor. Peter’s mind flashed back to less than two hours earlier at lunch when he had seen a group of students by the elevators, he recognised their faced among the other people in the room. What had Daniel done?

Peter ducked as Tony’s trademark repulsor tech was turned on him, he was not used to being on the receiving end. Each of the six appeared to have taken a piece of Stark weaponry, all arc powered, and were turning it on the Avengers. Karen scanned the weapons and immediately brought up their specs on his interface, which Peter read rapidly. It seemed they weren’t new tech. Tony had created them for S.H.E.I.L.D but had, luckily, never had the chance to distribute them. As such they had been confined to Alpha Vault 3 to be forgotten about, or at least that was what was supposed to have happened.

Peter dodged as another blast shot past him, taking out a portion of the wall behind him.  

“Hostiles identified.” Karen said. “Peter-“

“I know.” Peter said. Seeing that Pepper had already taken out one of the girls and Wanda and Shuri had the rest relatively under control, he kicked off the wall, spinning and aiming his foot at Daniel’s shoulder.

“Just let us take the damn stones!” Daniel yelled, turning his weapon on Peter and meeting him mid-air. “We’ll give them back afterwards!”

“We don’t have them!” Peter yelled back angrily. Almost everyone had heard of the sacrifice that the Avengers had gone through to get the stones and then return them. So what made these six so desperate that they’d risk that kind of sacrifice?

“Liar!” Daniel snarled. The hatred with which he yelled sent shivers through Peter.

Peter flipped to dodge another blast and without looking sent a shock web at one of the guys who was about to fire on him again. The web encased his chest, sending shocks to what Peter knew were his key pain receptors, bringing him to his knees in pain.

Peter had never seen Daniel like this before. Just earlier they’d had a perfectly easy conversation, Daniel had been sympathetic even. What had made him become like this?

“No more of that thanks.” Peter snapped, wishing that he could talk to Daniel instead of fighting him. Peter shot a regular web and tugged the weapon from Daniel’s hand and threw it up to the roof, shooting a web to keep it in place.

“I just need to get him back…” Daniel said dropping to his knees and raising his hands. “Please… just let us have the stones.”

Peter’s heart dropped and he stood before Daniel as the fight came to an end almost as quickly as it had begun. The other assailants, most of whom didn’t look to be much older than him had been apprehended and were gathered in a corner, Wanda, Shuri and Pepper standing before them, a force formidable enough to make anyone surrender.  

“Afraid the stones don’t work that way.” Peter said bitterly as he grabbed Daniels’ raised hands and pulled them behind his back, webbing them for good measure. Peter stood Daniel up and one by one shot each of the other hostiles, webbing their wrists together. There was no way they were getting through that stuff any time soon. From the looks of their faces, it didn’t seem like they were even keen to try. They had already given up.  

“Let’s get them out of here.” Pepper said, her helmet rising up to reveal her face. “Friday has authorities out the front.”

Peter rode the lift that Friday had gotten back online with the three Avengers and their recently apprehended hostiles all the way back down to the ground floor of Stark Industries. It was a solemn journey and Peter itched to ask Daniel. But there was little that he could say without risking his identity by being too familiar with his friend. Luckily Pepper spoke up as they went past the eighth floor.

“You’ve been a loyal and hardworking employee at this company for a decade, what made you decide to go rogue now?” Pepper said, her voice cold as she refused to look at Daniel.

“You think I enjoyed being stuck down there in with the interns? I only stayed there because it made me invisible. Invisible enough to steal a clearance card when the time came. Everyone got everything back after the snap.” Daniel muttered. “But there were people who lost everything because of the snap and then lost more after it. My fiancée died because he lost his sister and parents to the Decimation. Said he couldn’t live without his family… I was supposed to be his family.” Daniel spat the last bit out. “Those stones brought everyone else back so we figured that they could help us out again. Everyone here lost people who didn’t get brought back. Do you know what it’s like to watch everyone get their lives back knowing that you aren’t going to see your loved ones ever again?”

Pepper was silent for a moment. “Yeah I do.” Her voice was raw and broken as she stormed out of the lift, pushing two of the assailants before her out onto the ground floor. “But you don’t see me going crazy.”

“Probably didn’t care enough then.” One of the guys muttered under his breath and Pepper spun around in a fury, but Peter was quicker to retaliate.

At that comment he shoved Daniel to the floor and turned on the guy who had said it. Wisely, Wanda let go and let Peter at him. He wasn’t a looker, with a nose that had been broken a few times and a blonde buzz cut done so unevenly it looked like he had used garden sheers.

Peter’s helmet slid back to reveal his face. “Say it again.” Peter yelled slamming the assailant up against the wall beside the elevator.

“Peter.” Pepper said quietly.

“Say… it… again.” Peter said slowly, his fists coiled in the high school blazer the guy was wearing, clearly not his own. He had to be at least 5 years too old.

“You didn’t care enough.” He spat in Peter’s face and with a furious yell and a burst of strength Peter threw him 25 feet across the room, sending him sprawling on his back with a crash. It was either that or Peter would have broken his nose another couple of times.

“Peter…” Shuri said as Peter’s mask closed over his face again. Peter wasn’t sure if he had teared up, it felt like he had but the automatic temperature gage of the suit that stopped him from sweating too much probably got rid of whatever moisture may or may not have fallen onto his cheeks.

“I’m fine.” Peter said and pulled Daniel to his feet, who was now gaping at Peter in surprise. Daniel now knew his identity, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to care. “Walk.”

“There they are!” Someone yelled from the crowd that had gathered outside of Stark Industries, mostly consisting of employees but also a considerable amount of press, cameras raised to attention.

“We’ll be taking these guys off your hands now.” A sergeant said, stepping up to the Avengers and gesturing for his officers to take them away. “Neat stuff you got here,” he said indicating Peter’s web on one of the criminal’s wrists, “reckon you could lend some of that to the force?”

“No can do,” Peter said, trying to put on a light attitude, “it’s one of a kind I’m afraid.”  

“You better head off for now, the press is going to have questions for you if you don’t leave.” Pepper said quietly and Peter nodded, slipping through the crowd before anyone else could approach him. Wanda and Shuri followed, dodging people who were luckily too focused on what was happening with Pepper to pay them any attention.

“Well that was a bit of a mess.” Shuri said flicking her wrists, sending the Vibranium daggers somewhere into the Kimoyo beads she wore around her wrist.

“You alright?” Wanda said looking at Peter who was peering over the crowd and trying to pick out his class. He needed his backpack to put the suit back in before anyone saw him.

“I’ll be ok.” Peter said shrugging.

“Peter!” Cried a little voice and Peter turned to see Morgan scampering up to him, a puffing Happy in hot pursuit.

“Oohh hey kiddo, are you ok?” Peter said lifting her up as she reached them.

“When Peter has his mask on, we don’t say his name remember Morgan?” Happy puffed once he reached them.

“Shhhh.” Morgan said pressing a finger to her lips and Peter mimicked the motion, smiling as he did.

“Peter Parker!”

Peter put Morgan down, turned around and had the breath knocked out of him by May who had just stormed through the crowd. She enveloped him in a tight hug.

“Peter!” Morgan echoed and pointed up to him. Happy shushed her again, picking her up.

“Honestly, would it kill you to have one normal high school field trip?” May said drawing back to get a good look at him.

“Tell me about it.” Peter said laughing. “What are you doing here?”

“I came up early for the memorial, and lucky I did!”

“Hello again” Shuri said hesitantly and May jerked her head to look at Peter’s companions in surprise.

“Oh, May, this is the Princess of Wakanda and Wanda Maximoff, you sort of met them last month.” Peter said looking to the two women beside him. “And you obviously already know Happy and Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you… again…” May said shaking their hands slowly and uncertainly. “Hey sweetie.” May then said smiling warmly at Morgan, or at least Peter hoped she was and not at Happy.  

“We’ll let you get on,” Wanda said catching sight of Bruce who had just exited SI and had been met with a flurry of camera flashes. “I’ll probably see you later at the memorial.”

Peter nodded, “thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” Wanda said smiling.

“Oh, and Peter, how did it go with those beads I gave you? Did they give that bully a bit of a shock?” Shuri said hopefully and May looked at Peter with a quizzical brow raised.

“I didn’t get the chance to give them to him, but he ended up getting a concussion and some bruises so—"Peter shrugged to finish his sentence.

“Wait don’t tell me that you still have them on you then.”

“Yeah why—” Peter began before his heart lurched as he felt a warm burning sensation begin in his right-hand pocket. “Gah!” Peter exclaimed, falling to one knee and throwing his head back in pain as the bead seemed to react with some part of his suit and electricity crackled through it.

“System overload, too much energy is being inputted into the suit’s main power receptors, disengaging.” Karen said and Peter gritted his teeth at the electricity that charged through him. When the suit had drawn back enough, he reached into his pocket but found nothing there, whatever the beads had been they had apparently disintegrated upon detonation. He picked the suit up gingerly as it smoked slightly.

May helped Peter to his feet as he coughed, the burning feeling fading eventually.

“Ahhh… sorry about that.” Shuri said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “I didn’t think you would still have them on you, they aren’t supposed to be that strong though…”

“Must have had something to do with my suit.” Peter said as the suit failed to fold itself up into the small box that it usually did. “Damn.” He said turning the smouldering suit over in his hands.

“Next time, just don’t take anything Shuri gives you.” Wanda said shaking her head.

“Hey, that’s strike one, three strikes and I’ll tamper with Vision’s new interface so that he autocorrects ‘I love you’ to all three minutes of ‘what does the fox say’.” Shuri retaliated.

Wanda made a face and stalked away, Shuri running after her and spouting apologies.

“Crazy day, huh?” May said putting an arm around Peter and turning to look back at the crowd that had gathered outside SI.

“Sure was.” Peter said folding his suit into thirds to the best of his ability. “Can you get my backpack off of Ned?”

“Sure thing.” May said, squeezing Peter’s shoulder once and heading off in the direction of his class. Morgan squirmed out of Happy’s arms and was off again, running through the crowds back to her Mom. Happy gave a tremendous sigh but smiled at Peter nonetheless as he jogged off after her.

While he waited, Peter turned his gaze up to the building before him, peering up to his lab. Even his eyes couldn’t see inside it, but he could see which level it was, the glass’s opacity was similar to that of Pepper’s offices on the top floor. He looked from the lab down to his suit but didn’t have much time to put his feelings into thoughts before May had returned and was handing him the backpack.

“You better get over there, they’re all worried about where you’ve been.” May said jerking her heading the direction she had just come from as Peter stuffed the suit into his bag. “You can tell me all about whatever just happened afterwards. We’ll go get something good to eat.”

“Thanks May.” Peter said hugging his aunt as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Peter ran a hand through his hair and straightened his Midtown blazer, trying desperately to make it seem like he hadn’t just been in fight, or mildly electrocuted for that matter.

“Parker,” Mr Harrington said, “thank god you’re ok.” Peter blinked in surprise, he had been expecting reprimand for not staying with the rest of the class. “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork,” Mr Harrington muttered to Abigail who looked sideways at the teacher in concern and edging away.

“Hey man.” Ned said coming up to clap Peter on the back. “You ok?”

“All fine.” Peter said smiling at Ned.

“Where were you.” MJ said from behind, tapping him on the shoulder. Peter was disappointed to find her face stony and arms folded. Perhaps if he hadn’t told her that ‘peter parker’ was ‘fine’ then this reunion might have been a little more heartfelt.

“Oh y’know,” Peter said scratching the back of his neck. “I came down with Happy after getting some of the employees off of the top floors.”

“But I didn’t see you with him.”

“I was… I just ahh- I bumped into May and you know she was all freaking out and stuff.” Peter scrambled for words as MJ’s eyes bore into him.

“Aright.” MJ said, relenting her interrogation. “Considering I last saw you hanging for your life from a pipe this is definitely an improvement.”

“Do I get a hug?” Peter said hopefully, not really thinking before he spoke.

“What? You think your existence deserves a hug from me?” MJ said indignantly but settled for a one-armed embrace that Peter could have sworn lingered a moment longer than it should have.

Peter grinned and looked sideways at Ned who was giving him a not so subtle thumbs up.

Together Peter and MJ moved forward with the rest of the class to watch the procession of assailants be escorted to cop cars.

“Guess you and Spider-Man really are friends then.” MJ said glancing at Peter’s bag and the web that was holding one of the straps in place.

“I told you.” Peter said shrugging and keeping his eyes on each of the six criminals as they were escorted into custody. His eyes lingered sadly on Daniel, wishing that there was something that he could do and wondering how things had gone so wrong.

Peter’s eyes drifted to the final one, the guy with the dodgy nose and bad buzz cut. It was terrible timing apparently, because at that moment his eyes caught sight of Peter and they locked on him in determination as he twisted his head out of the cop’s grasp.

“That’s him, that’s Spider-Man!” He yelled and people around them turned to look at Peter before being drawn back to the action as the guy was thrown up against the vehicle, his hands properly cuffed this time.

“Dumbass,” Flash said from where he was sitting at an Ambulance, ice pressed to the back of his head. “I’ve met Spider-Man and he certainly isn’t Penis Parker.” Peter decidedly, ignored the comment.

“Any idea what he’s talking about?” MJ said nodding in the direction of the assailant and the cop cars, whose lights were now flashing as they edged their way through the crowd and out into traffic.

“No clue.” Peter said shrugging but standing a little taller, casting one last glance up to the Lab on level 27.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 NEXT > CH10

[dontshootmespence]

Broken Homes Fix Broken Hearts

Chapter 37

Seeing the hate in her eyes nearly broke him in his tracks, but he couldn’t stop to comprehend anything. He had to get away from her to keep her out of danger, no matter how much it was killing him inside.

Without thinking, he drove. He let his mind go blank and somehow, 15 minutes later, he was at Spencer’s door. “Hey kid, can I stay here for a couple days?”

“Yes, of course,” Spencer replied, opening the door and stepping back to let him in. “Shouldn’t you be with Juliet? What happened?” Spencer wasn’t great with relationships, but Derek looked miserable. Something was wrong.

“I-I can’t talk about it. Can I just stay here while I figure things out?”

“Again, sure.” The psychologist in him begged his brain to prod Derek for answers, but his friend was in pain. “Make yourself at home.”

That was two days ago. He’d walked into the apartment, taken a seat on Spencer’s couch and stared off into the distance trying to figure out what to do. He’d barely moved.

But the universe took this inopportune moment to send another complication Derek’s way. His phone rang. It was Garcia. They had a case.

He heard Spencer pick up in the other room and quickly inform Penelope that he was on his way in. Derek just lay there, letting the phone continue to ring. The idea of picking it up, of going to work seemed...unimaginable.

In part he just wanted to wallow, to be allowed to sit in his own sorrows without the rest of the world creeping in. But, in his heart of hearts, Derek also knew he would be a detriment and not an asset if he went back to work now. As much as that hurt, knowing he couldn’t do his job, it was nothing compared to the suffering settling into his head and heart in the wake of losing her.

He hadn’t slept. Every time he tried to close his eyes, the look on her face as she’d walked away kept him awake.

Everything reminded him of Juliet.

The stack of books on the coffee table. The sound of running water as he washed his hands. His own face in the mirror.

She was everywhere and nowhere and in that, he was lost.

“You staying here?” Spencer asked as he hung up with Garcia.

All Derek could do was nod. “I’m no good to you right now.”

Spencer could see that. It was fairly obvious. “I know, but,” he hesitated, grabbing his go bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I hope you know that whatever it is that’s going on, you can tell me. I won’t tell a soul if that helps.”

The corner of Derek’s lip twitched up. He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want to put his kid brother in danger too. This was bad enough as it was without bringing the team into this mess. “I know, kid. Go save the world. I’ll be back soon.”

Spencer swallowed hard against the lingering uncertainty and closed the door behind him. For a profiler, he was having a very difficult time figuring out what was going on in his friend’s mind.

                                                            -----

“Miss Juliet?” Jefferson piped up from the other side of the desk. She looked up, only then realizing she’d stamped the same book three times.

“I’m sorry Jefferson. Now you’re book has extra stamps, for good luck.” Juliet gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and handed over the book. Jefferson waddled off to the children’s section once again to start reading his new lucky book. She stirred herself from the fog that had taken hold as best she could and went back to work, checking the book requests currently on file.

Her little ones hadn’t noticed yet but Juliet was a sight for sore eyes in the view of any adult. Dark circles hung under her eyes. They were bloodshot. And her nose still felt stuffy from crying. After finding resolve to get to the bottom of what was going on with Derek, she had jumped in head first with calls and texts and emails. At one point she even stuffed a letter in the mailbox at the post office.

Nothing.

Just silence and a growing sense of dread.

While the kids had their quiet time, she headed back through the fog and toward the computer, checking to see what books she had to pull from the shelves and for whom. A few of her regulars were going to be coming in soon for their weekly book - man, did she wish she had more time to read - but there was one patron coming in whose name was a surprise - Spencer.

Considering Derek didn’t have an apartment anymore since he’d moved in with her, in all likelihood, he was staying with Spencer. He wasn’t responding to any of her messages, but if she could slip something into the book Spencer was taking out maybe he could get it to Derek. It was her only chance. Something was very wrong, and she wasn’t about to give up on him. What he claimed just wasn’t him anymore.

Quickly, she took her phone out and snapped a picture of the book title, checking online for a copy of it; she would need to destroy the book and the book-lover in her couldn’t do it to one already on file in the library.

If Derek didn’t answer her this time, she wasn’t sure he ever would.

                                                             -----

8pm rolled around at an alarmingly slow pace but finally Juliet was out the door and headed home.

It didn’t really feel right to even call it that in the absence of the man who had transformed it into one many moons ago. But there was no time to waste on waxing poetic, she had to destroy some ancient poetry to preserve her own verse of potential happily ever after.

For the second time that day Juliet did something she’d never thought possible; she walked into a massive chain bookstore and willingly bought a volume of poetry that was available just blocks away at a free, community-oriented, public library. It made her shiver. In her line of work, corporate bookstores were evil, but she also couldn’t destroy a library book if it wasn’t necessary, so she relented and hoped she wouldn’t burst into flames upon entry. Under any other circumstances she wouldn’t have even set foot inside, but desperate times called for even more desperate measures.

Surprisingly that was the most difficult phase of her totally impromptu mission. Mission Impossible movies wanted everyone to believe that the only people in need of burner phones were the unfairly attractive super-spies and their nemeses. While Derek Morgan was built like a Greek god, this was no globe-trotting Bond adventure and Juliet was sure as hell no one’s Pussy Galore. It was less sleek, sexy action movie sequence and more a perilous hail-mary with no gorgeous sports car in sight. Rotten Tomatoes would not have scored it highly.

Surprisingly all it took was a wad full of cash and some small-talk with a convenience store owner named Earl and Juliet was walking out of the MiniMart with a nondescript burner, no gold-plated spy ID necessary.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the Road Runner so she couldn’t get back to her house in the blink of an eye, but she did the best she could, slamming the door behind her so she could participate in the sacrilegious act of defiling a book in the confines of her own home. It made her physically ill to think about, but living without Derek or living with regret was even worse.

With the utility blade from Derek’s toolbox, she dug into the pages, hollowing out enough to safely bury the phone inside. Her previous determination to do anything to save her relationship faded into a hollowness that settled into the middle of her chest when she realized what she was using. The man she loved pervaded every aspect of this house. House - not home. Not as long as he was absent. She allowed herself to wallow for a moment before banishing all doubt and sadness from existence. Juliet had learned from the best personal superhero around so it was time to become her own.

                                                            -----

“Hey Morgan? I got this book out of the library. It’s a book of pieces by Ovid, the Roman poet.” Spencer explained from his spot in the kitchen.

Derek didn’t look up, just continued staring into the couch cushions. “That’s nice kid.” He sighed.

“Well, yes, it would be. If it wasn’t defaced. Pages have been cut out and...there’s a phone it in. Along with a message. This looks like Juliet’s handwriting actually. She must have seen the request in the inter-library loan system and gotten this to me. I think it’s for you.”

Just hearing her name hurt. All the things he’d said. All the tears they’d both shed. He couldn’t get her face out of his head. “What?” He reached out for the book, taking it tentatively from Spencer’s hand as if it were a ticking bomb that might explode at any moment. “This is her handwriting.”

Most of the book had been hollowed out, but a section at the top of one page was highlighted, her handwriting scrawled underneath.

Fortune and love favor the brave. The passage read, before her words covered up the rest.

I think Ovid might have been right. So this is me trying to be brave, for the both of us. I don’t know what happened but I know something must be wrong, because you promised I would be stuck with you forever. And Derek Morgan is a man of his word. If you’re reading this, call me. Please. Whatever it is we can figure it out as long as we’re together. Be brave my love.

-Juliet

Without a word, Derek swallowed against the lump in his throat. Spencer had already left the room, wanting to give him the privacy he so obviously needed right now. As he pressed the button to dial, his heart raced.

One ring.

Two-

A third ring didn’t come, but silence did. “Juliet?”

A sob wrenched through her body when she heard his voice. She knew he was lying. She knew he wouldn’t do that to her. She’d been right. “Derek?”

“I’m here,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry, I-” His voice started to shake, the look on her face when he’d broken things off burning into his brain. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forget it.

Juliet stopped him in his tracks. “What happened? Why did you walk away? I know you were lying, but why?”

Leaning back into the couch, a tear fell from his eye. “Someone is threatening me. When my mom got sick? That was him. I thought it was a prank or something, but it wasn’t. And then I got another call saying I had to break it off with you and if I let anyone know, you, the Bureau, my family, anyone...he said he’d kill you. Baby, I had to walk away. I had to-”

“I know,” she breathed. The sense of relief she felt was akin to feeling the weight of the world leap off her shoulders.  The tears kept coming as she tried to speak. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. We will fix this, Derek. We have to. God I just- I just miss you so much.” Juliet broke off, a sob taking over for words.

Derek felt himself beginning to weep. He hadn’t let himself feel it in so long for fear of losing himself to it forever. But she was here. He could hear her voice. And it was all too much.

They both just stayed there like that. Listening to the other cry on the other end of the line, knowing that their love was there. That this was real.

@virgoswlw​​ @crimeshowtrash​ @literallyprentissstwin​ @jazz91121 @tommyhollandd​ @spencer-puppies-and-stuff​ @fl0werb0nes18​ @stunudo​ @spencerthepipecleaner​ @theofficeofsupremegenius​ @ultrarebelheart​ @lookwhatyoumademequeue​ @lukeassmanalvez​ @mentallydatingspencerreid​ @nobravery​ @criminal-anatomy @matthew-gray-reidler​ @remember-me-forever-silent-angel​ @original-criminal-fanfics​ @lovelukealvez @stories-you-wont-hear @speedreiding @marvelfanlife @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars​ @wonderboygenius​ @naturallytom​ @imagines-for-criminal-minds​ @acespence​ @sweater-vest-reid​ @criminalmindskeepsmealive @spenncerreiid​ @sam-carter-in-training​ @parker-hopper @spencerwreid​ @ssahotchner​ @profiler-in-training​ @were-skye​ @trollitis​ @heyboywonder​ @ficrecswithcassie​ @janiedreams88 @gingeraleandcontemplation @cynbx @fortheloveofspencerreid​ @tippy06​ @cleocc @bestillmystuckyheart​ @ssaunitchief​ @xxm3xxj​ @xocriminal-minds-imaginesxo​

[kenzieam]

Lost Girl - Chapter 4 (Eric and Fox)

Rating: M (swearing, violence, smut, blah blah)

Genre: Drama/Angst

****Trigger Warnings - mention of torture, abuse****

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85  @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt  @treeleaf  @beltz2016  @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys  @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling  @sparklemichele @vitaevandal  @micolegg @frecklefaceb @jaihardy  @bookgirlthings @queenara4  @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itschibi @elaacreditava @lilu46 @tonyt1995 @jojogoo65 @littlesouthernrebel @sterek-foreverandever @kirstenisntkirsty

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A huge thank you to my beta and Jai-sister @iammarylastar ! Quelle equipe!

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What happens if Fox disappears, and is returned to Eric two years later, but is not the same woman he loves???

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Eric sighed, throwing his pen onto his desk with an angry snap of his wrist. Reluctantly he’d agreed to stay away from Fox, and had, for the last two miserable days for what Max described as ‘some intense shit’. Scans had shown an unhealed lesion in Fox’s brain, that the doctor was willing to bet money was the root cause of her amnesia, and he’d been loading Fox with heavy doses of healing serum ever since. Dr. Young had also been spending huge amounts of time with her too, working on reversing her forced indoctrination. The goal right now was to have Fox settle enough that she could be trusted in a locked room without being restrained to a bed, and start accepting visitors to begin triggering her memories.

Eric wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

Having Fox in the compound was seriously messing with his head. It took twice as long for Eric to get anything accomplished anymore, with his thoughts always wandering to her. His sleep was broken now not for nightmares and overwhelming grief, but for anxiety and uncertainty. Sure, Fox was back, but would she ever come back? The woman that Eric loved, would die for, the woman he’d mourned, whose disappearance had shredded his heart, would she come back? Would she eventually remember the way she’d loved Eric? Would she again want to be with him? Eric knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to handle it if the answer was no. To have Fox alive and healthy, back in Dauntless but no longer in love with him, moving on with her life without him as a part of it was too horrible to comprehend.

Knowing Eric wasn’t doing anything important right now, he’d done little today except get lost in his thoughts, Max didn’t bother knocking before he walked into his office. Eric startled slightly and looked up at the head leader, who settled into the chair across the desk from him. Eric stared at Max, he didn’t need to ask again, the question was the same.

“She’s doing better,” Max replied. “The newest scan shows no sign of the lesion, so the doctor is confident she’ll start regaining her memory soon.”

“What caused it?”

Max sighed and leaned his chair back, lacing his fingers on his stomach.

“You know what happened, Jett had his unit investigate that warehouse that caught his attention for whatever reason, Fox isn’t sure still, but it was probably a planned ambush. Jett and two others were killed, Fox, Owens and Dawson disappeared and the rest ran around like initiates holding a weapon for the first time.”

Eric snorted. Those fucks were lucky Max stepped in and stopped Eric from executing the whole sorry lot. They’d been banished to fence duty in the lowest, most disgusting corner of the city.

“Fox says Owen had been hurt internally and the factionless healers couldn’t help him, so when he died they laid him out for us to find. Both Fox and Dawson got hit in the head, Dawson stayed really messed up, couldn’t do much more than stand there and do what he was told.”

“And Fox developed amnesia.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t remember the ambush, just being told later that she’d been injured, hit in the head. Those two we captured with her say this guy called ’Reo’ took a real interest in Fox, saw a blank slate with muscles and started working on her, telling her all that shit about Dauntless, aligning her with their ideals. They’re not sure if he knew about you and Fox or not, whether her special hatred of you is deliberate or coincidental, but you’re one of the leaders most associated with factionless control, so who knows? Either way, right now Fox still has no memories of the ambush or anything prior. She thinks she was born down there, doesn’t even remember Amity.”

“Where is this ‘Reo’ piece of shit?” Eric growled.

Max shrugged. “It’s the first I’m hearing of him, he’s good at hiding. I guess he’s gone underground again. But apparently he’s got this real distinctive scar. The whole left side of his face has got this crazy checkerboard burn. Got held against a hot grate or something as a kid. Shouldn’t be too hard to find now that we know.”

“When we find him, he’s mine.” Eric ground out, his voice low and dangerous.

“I didn’t expect anything different.”

“Can I see her yet?” Eric fixed Max with a hard eye, daring him to say no. He’d had just about enough of waiting, his patience had run right the fuck out, and hearing about this Reo fucker had just stomped on the last of his nerves.

“You rein in that fucking stink eye you’re showing me and yeah.” Max replied sharply. “She doesn’t need that and I’ll be damned if you derail everything she’s accomplished so far.”

Eric exhaled long and hard, clenching and unclenching his fists. Max waited silently. Finally, Eric raised his head and nodded. The rage in his eyes was banked, the frustration contained.

“Okay,” Max stood, gesturing with his hand. “I’ll walk with you.”

Eric remained silent as they walked and Max decided not to press him. Eric had the tendency to explode if pushed too much when he was already overwhelmed, and Max didn’t feel like dealing with an oversized tantrum right now. They stopped outside of the detention wing and Max swiped his ID card, the door lock releasing with a beep. Eric followed him to the end, room 15.

“We’ve made it more comfortable for her, there’s a bed and a table, some books. She doesn’t need to be restrained anymore, but I wouldn’t get too comfortable. Be ready to get out if you need to. Don’t try to reason with her, don’t agitate her, don’t push her to try and remember anything. She’s frustrated enough as it is and she’s been getting violent when she’s had enough..... I mean it Eric, this isn’t Fox right now. Don’t talk to her like she is. I’m leaving the guards outside with direct orders to pull you if you start acting stupid.”

Eric nodded, this was a hard pill to swallow. Eric had never liked not being able to touch his Fox. He wanted to go into that room and have his Fox look up at him, smile and throw herself into his arms, mould her body to his and let him bury his face in her neck because goddammit he had missed her so fucking much; but that wasn’t going to happen, not right now, maybe not ever; and Eric would have to deal with that without going crazy in the meantime.

Max reached over and swiped his ID card, pushing the door open when it beeped.

“Wait here.” He said, then walked inside, shutting the door behind him.

Eric exhaled, closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. After a minute, Max stepped back out.

“She’s willing to see you, remember what I said.”

Eric nodded and took a deep breath. Max held the door open for him and he walked through, stopping just inside. His eyes immediately went to Fox. She was cross-legged on the bed, her back against the wall. Her face was expressionless as she watched him.

“Fox,” Eric murmured.

Fox remained silent and Eric felt the first stirrings of discomfort; he hadn’t felt uncomfortable around Fox since the very beginning, when he’d looked down at the first jumper of the year and seen with surprise it was a redheaded Amity transfer in the net in front of him. He’d been nearly speechless, almost overwhelmed by his body’s response, its awakening towards her; only his years of training and conditioning had kept him from doing something stupid and embarrassing. Fox, or Sabine as she’d been named, had seemed similarly affected by him, and an adorable blush had coloured her cheeks. She’d recovered faster however, throwing Eric a wink over her shoulder as she walked away, her newly chosen Dauntless name still sweet on his tongue. Fox.

Eric came back to himself with a small jolt, focusing again on the spare room and the woman in front of him. She was watching him carefully, her own forehead furrowed. Finally Eric broke the awkward silence.

“How are you doing?” He cringed inwardly, what a stupid question.

Fox snorted softly and looked down at her clasped hands, twisting uncertainly in her lap. “Everyone wants to know that, ‘how are you?’.... I don’t know anymore.”  

“Max said the doctor has been giving you healing serum? You... you look better, you’re not quite so pale.”

Fox raised an eyebrow at him, “‘not quite so pale’, you sure know how to make a girl feel better.”

Eric felt his cheeks warm up, dropped his head. Reaching for the empty chair he slowly sat, took a few moments before he raised his head to look at Fox again. She was still watching him.

“So.... apparently I’m ‘Fox LaRue’ of Dauntless, right?”

“Yes.”

“So that would make you my leader.”

“Yes.”

“Were we anything else to each other?”

Eric froze, he could feel the ground beneath him getting shaky, he wasn’t supposed to push her, wasn’t supposed to agitate her, but she was the one asking these questions, and it was Eric that was in trouble right now. He couldn’t, he couldn’t let himself think about what he and Fox had shared, not now. If it didn’t make him launch himself at her, pull her to his chest and try to crush away the last two years of hell, it would make him scream in anguish because he couldn’t, he may never be able to again.

“We were friends,” Eric said quietly.

“Friends,” Fox echoed. “What was I like?”

Eric gave a rueful smile. “You were brave, smart. You were the first jumper of your year, an Amity transfer. Your Amity name was Sabine LaRue, but you chose Fox when you reached Dauntless because some guy at the Choosing Ceremony made fun of your hair colour, but you liked it and turned it around into your new identity instead of a negative thing.... and that’s what you were like, you could always find the good in something.... or someone,” he chuckled, wiping his mouth, “you might still kick their ass, but you’d acknowledge their good points too. You graduated top five in your class and were a hell of a patrol officer....” he trailed off.

Eric could feel his resolve starting to crumble, if he continued he’d start to talk about how gracefully Fox had moved, even when fighting, how her smile and laugh would bring others in, wanting to share in her happiness. He’d confess how he just loved to hold her in the mornings, as they sprawled together in bed, how he’d love to bury his head in her hair, inhale her green apple shampoo smell, her natural scent that made him all easy in his limbs at the same time that it made him shiver in anticipation. He’d tell her how he’d felt so cold and fucking alone until she’d come, lighting up his dark cave with her sun-like existence. He’d admit that she had his heart, right from the fucking start, that she still did, and she always fucking would.

Eric shuddered. Raising his head, he froze. Fox had moved while he was lost in his thoughts, she now stood just a few feet from him, watching him carefully. Eric took a moment to drink the sight of her in. She was still gaunt, hard and bony, but not as much as before; faint hints of her previous curves were starting to show again, and her skin was no longer deathly pale, thanks to the healing serum. Her shorn scalp was darker with the promise of new growth. All the fresh wounds she’d been sporting were gone, her skin looked soft and smooth again, marked by new scars but not marred by them.

“You look a lot better,” Eric choked, his fingers curling into his thighs.

Fox nodded, reached up and gestured absently at the back of her head. “Yeah, my headaches are gone, I can think clearly again... funny how that’s just making me more confused.” Without warning, Fox moved closer and Eric’s heart began to pound. Fox leaned forward suddenly, inhaled deeply. Eric froze, not trusting himself to do anything more than breathe right now.

Fox made a small humming sound and Eric’s pulse spiked. She recognized his scent? Was it affecting her the way hers had always affected him?  His hand moved without his conscious control and before either of them could react, Eric’s hand gently cupped Fox’s cheek. He hissed at the contact, his nerves coming alive again as sensations he’d thought he’d never experience again rushed to the surface. He groaned, eyes falling closed.

Fox inhaled sharply, eyes widening as Eric’s hand touched her skin, and for a brief moment, recognition sputtered in her gaze, but then fear and uncertainty flared, completely extinguishing the meagre ember and Fox yanked herself violently away. Eric’s eyes flew open and he opened his mouth to speak.

“Get away from me!” Fox yelled, scrambling away to the far wall. She began to pace agitatedly. “They told me, he told me.... they’d try to trick me. Reo told me, he told me.” She began to ramble.

“Fox?”

“I’m not FOX! GET AWAY!” Fox screamed, grabbing the nearest item, a book, and throwing it directly at Eric’s head. He ducked, stumbled to his feet in shock; dimly he heard the door behind him slam open. Guards and white-suited medical staff swarmed in and Eric felt his arms roughly grabbed, was pulled backwards.

“NO!” Eric roared, fighting the restraining hands, eyes locked on Fox. The wild animal was back, cornered and snarling, she was fighting the guards, graceful even in her altered state. She shouted as she fought, screamed that they were tricking her, trying to turn her, make her give up her people, make her betray their locations.

“NO! NO! This is all fake! Reo told me you’d try to fool me! I won’t! I won’t, I don’t believe this! It’s all LIES!” Finally a trio of guards managed to tackle Fox to the ground long enough for a nurse to dart forwards and inject her with a syringe. Fox shrieked.

“NO!” Eric screamed, throwing the guards off, launching himself towards Fox. They were hurting her, he couldn’t let them. Eric felt something crack against his skull and he suddenly couldn’t keep his balance, his vision swam. He felt himself swaying and then a sharp stick in his throat. Immediately everything slowed, went grey and Eric fought to focus on Fox’s unmoving body as he dropped unconscious to the floor.

Awareness came back to Eric fast, like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. His eyes snapped open and Fox’s name spilled from his lips as he struggled to sit up. Rough hands pushed him back down.

“What the fuck were you thinking Coulter?” Max demanded.

Eric tried to sit up again and was pushed even more roughly down. He saw he was back in his apartment, sprawled on his bed.

“Stay down, goddammit.” Max growled.

Sighing heavily, Eric collapsed against the pillow.

“You fucked up this time, son.” Max shook his head angrily. “You’re out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Eric muttered.

“You’re out, done. You are forbidden from seeing Fox-”

“The fuck? Max?!” Eric sat up too quickly and swayed dizzily, Max pushed him back down.

“That last stunt you pulled? I fucking told you not to upset her! I had to fight to keep her here, they wanted to take Fox back to Erudite to keep her safe from you. Goddammit Eric! You never fucking listen!”

“She recognized me, for just a second Max, she remembered me. She leaned down and smelled me and that’s when she freaked out-”

“And you touched her. I fucking said not to.”

Eric sagged backwards, “I couldn’t help myself, I-”

“Nearly derailed everything. That Dr. Young spent half a goddamn hour talking her back down; he’s out for your fucking head.... I finally got him to relax enough to agree to keep Fox here, but you CANNOT go anywhere near her or I’ll shoot you in the knees and throw your sorry ass in the detention wing myself.”

“Until when?” Eric snapped bitterly. He recognized the look in Max’s eye, he was serious.

“Until she is released to reintegrate into Dauntless. And that’s not happening until the doc is convinced she’s well on her way to remembering her life here and won’t try to escape.”

“I can’t wait that long-”

“Too fucking bad! You fucked this up, not me.”

“Goddammit Max!” Eric snarled, slamming his fists angrily onto the bed. If he still wasn’t so fucking dizzy he’d be halfway to Fox already, going straight through anyone that got in his fucking way.

“You don’t agree to stay away and I’ll lock you up right now.” Max’s voice was implacable, there was no room for negotiation.

The very thought of staying separated from Fox made Eric’s heart hammer painfully. He needed to hold her, crush her to his chest and stop this hemorrhage of his lifeblood that threatened to destroy him. Without Fox he had nothing, he was nothing. He exhaled raggedly and lifted his head to meet Max’s eye; nodded once in miserable acceptance.

“It’s not forever.” Max’s voice was softer, more sympathetic. “I saw the hell you went through these last two years. I also know you kept the worst of your pain secret, even from me; but you need to be patient. Fox needs time to come back. You and her.... you were amazing together, you were meant to be and that type of passion, that level of connection is too much for her right now. She’s trying to get used to the fact that all her memories are fake, that she has this whole other life she can’t remember. That’s a shitload to wrap your head around and once her memories of what you had together start coming back it’s going to be even worse. You are the most important person in the world to Fox, I saw the way you two would look at each other. If there’s such a thing as soulmates, that’s what you are. You can’t hit her with that all at once. Let her figure herself out first.”

Max was right, as much as it killed Eric to admit it. What was another few weeks, when he’d been in agony for two years already? He couldn’t add to Fox’s pain just to alleviate some of his own, he loved her too much for that.

“Alright, I’ll stay away... until Fox is ready.”

[barakobean]

Precilla's Torture Box - Meudon

“I can’t see anything. I remember leaving the night lamp before I sleep, but now, my room is pitch black. I woke up to a strange melody from the piano in the living room, but now, I couldn’t hear a thing. What was that song again? I can’t remember, maybe it’s just a dream.” In her head, she muttered. She tries to move to her head to the side but her eyes can only see as far as the edge of the ceiling. She moves her right arm to turn on the night lamp but she can only feel the cold wind from the window brushing the bare skin of her arms, shoulder and face. Her head started to sink into the pillows, deeper as the soft feathers tried to cover her face. She screams… “Ishmael! Ishmael!” And she opens her eyes, gasping for air. Breathing heavily, she looked at a dark figure at the foot of her bed. Her hands were illuminated by the street lamps piercing the thin sheets of curtain hanging from her window, but the figure just stood there, silent, unmoving, faceless. It seems to stare at her for a moment when a thud from a fallen item caught her attention. “Chiho, you scared me. Come baby.” And the cat purred as it slyly jumped into the bed with Precilla.

“Andrea, don’t forget to lock the door when you get in tonight. I am going ahead to the store. There’s coffee and some toast on the table.” “Yes your highness.” And the house music played on as water rushed from the shower.

Precilla opens the door and is greated by the cold wet wind of February. It is already 10 AM, but it seems that the sun has no intention of showing up. She started to walk at the corner of Cyril Magnin, through 6th Street going to Mission. The bricked side streets are wet from the rain last night. It must have been difficult for the homeless. “Hey lady, I heard you had a nice and wet sleep last night. I bet you paid a whole lot for that handsome Latino.” A tall black homeless woman dragging a trolley shouted at Precilla as she nears Mission alongside Nordstrom. She stopped for a bit, and looked for her cigarette. “Oh shit! Here you are my long and thin darlings. Come to mama and make me feel better.” She enters the store with a plush pink wall paint and an indiscreet sign saying Good Vibrations. It is just a 5-minute walk from the Lofts, but it took her 10 minutes to get to the store since she smoked. At exactly 10:15, she was late, but it doesn’t matter. She owns the store anyways. It’s warm inside, and the smell of silicone and sweet lotions flowered the store. There were magazines near the fire exit and several posters hang on the right side of the shelf. Some feathers, coiled straws and candies adorn the left side of the fire exit. In the middle, there is stand for lotions of different scents and consistencies. On the left side of the entrance door, just in front of the cashier, there are displays of pretend penile shafts and heads, some include the balls of different sizes and colors. There are also some small mechanical trinkets the size of the thumb with free batteries. Tubes are displayed towards the corner with different flavors of condom. Rebecca stood by the door greeting the customers, giving them flyers of the February promotions and occasionally informing them that we don’t allow bags in the establishment. Then redirecting them to the side of the cashier where their bags are taken and given wooden clips with numbers.

It was 11 when a thin olive skinned boy came in. He took his beanie off revealing a dark brown, shoulder length, wavy hair. He doesn’t seem to be from the area with an awkward smile and a mercurial accent. “Hi. I came back with my passport.” They boy smiled and examined the tubes. “Is there anything in particular you are looking for?” Rebecca smiled trying to assist the little man. “I am getting two of these.” Nervously grabbing the Apollo Max penis sleeve. He stared for a moment at the lubes and grabbed a 50 ml bottle of Gun Oil. “I think that one isn’t compatible with the Apollo Max. You need a water-based lube for that so that the sleeve wouldn’t disintegrate.” Rebecca handed a bottle of Please and placed the Gun Oil back into the shelf as the foreign boy approached the cashier.

“That would be $51.25. May I have your ID please?” Precilla demanded. The boy scrambled through his blue messenger bag and handed his passport. “April 25, 1980. Is this really yours? You don’t look like the picture.” “Yes, that’s me Precilla.” He looked straight into her eyes, and she blushed. Those dark brown eyes pierced through her and gave her a slight tingling between her legs. Besides the fact that she knows what he will do with the stuff he bought when he gets home, he knows her name. “Sorry, I am not sure if it is polite to call you by your name, but that’s the only thing on your pin aside from the tongue drawing.” Precilla laughed and the boy dropped his gaze. “Do you need a bag for these? Sorry I forgot to ask you.” And she handed his passport. “No, I am just going to put these in my bag. By the way, don’t call the black man by his name. It would be difficult to have him leave once he thinks you wanted him.” “Say again.” “Oh sorry, I was just singing this song. See? Skullcandy?” The boy left leaving Precilla dumfounded.

She stared at the mirror as Silicone Lube played in her Iphone. Precilla, naked, is half black, half Guatemalan. Her eyes are green, and she has freckles on her nose, forehead, cheeks and neck. She’s not that tall at 5’7” with shoulder length curly hair. She puts her hand to her waist and examined her belly. It is soft but without any revolute convexity. From her navel up to her breasts, her hand moved gently as it massaged her breasts up to her neck. She pulled her hair up and tied it. Her breasts looked glorious with her arms raised, she thought. She dropped them and gently moved between her legs. She ran her fingers through her thin pubes rubbing the button-like structure above her slit. It feels good for a while that she started to moan silently. Another touch to this area, and she felt a slight wetness in her middle finger. She looked at the mirror, mouth parted, but to her shock a figure in black leather mask and suit is behind her. Screaming, she woke up pillows and blanket on the floor with breast fully exposed to the chilly air from the, again, open window… “Precilla wake up. Wake up girl. There’s a fire drill in the building. The management asked all tenants to participate.” “Andrea, it’s a Saturday. And what on earth are you wearing?” Her hip jingles as coins and beads hit each other in her hip scarf. Andrea sports a flowing fish skirt above her bare ankle and feet. A choli top just above her navel wraps her cup D breasts with a knot just below the inferior angles of her scapula. “Dance lessons? Uhmmm, Precilla, your breasts are so firm.” “Will you stop that. I am already awake. See they are both standing now” pointing at her nipples. “I am not going to that fire drill. Am going to get some coffee,” and she walked towards the kitchen topless. “Fine then. I am gonna go down and head straight to the lesson after the drill. There’s a package for you at the table. I checked the mailbox this morning and saw that addressed to our unit. It doesn’t say it’s for you. I just assumed. We both know how much trouble I’ll be in if “They” find out my address.” Andrea slammed the door without hearing what Precilla has to say. The coffee is bitter. They ran out of sugar packets from Carls Jr. Precilla made another sip as she waited for the soup in the microwave. “In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. All the chambers are not lovely, light and high. There are holes in the floor of the mind, like those in a medieval dungeon floor – the stinking oubliettes, named for forgetting, bottle-shaped cells in solid rock with the trapdoor in the top. Nothing escapes from them quietly to ease us. A quake, some betrayal by our safeguards, and sparks of memory fire noxious gases – things trapped for years fly free, ready to explode in pain and drive us to dangerous behavior…” The television droned the lines of Hannibal Lecter as Precilla watched closely at the inside of the oven. The bowl keeps on turning as her mind wandered to the idea of it exploding to her face. She has always been afraid of the microwave. The eerie hum as the thing is turned on and the flopping of the lid as the contents boil make her uneasy. Finally, her lunch is ready, so she opened the microwave door, and bare hands, she took the bowl and placed it on the coffee table. “Owww! Fuck! Too hot!” She cursed as the bowl touched the magazines, dripping with creamy mushroom and potato soup. Four champagne red satin lace, each 2 feet long, a piece of black leather the size of dice, and a note with numbers 809 8846 and the word meudon were the contents of the package. Precilla placed her cup on the kitchen counter and examined the piece of leather. It is soft, smooth and fine grained. It smelled of oak and fir. It brushed her nose, her cheeks and lips. It nauseated her like some surfaced old memory. It excited her, made her heart beat faster and louder as it pumped hot blood to her neck, her lips and eyelids. She started to rub her pubis to the handle of the dishwasher. Slowly, she bent her knee and moved up and down to hit her front upon the handle. She stopped and opened her eyes, lips folded inside her mouth to keep the leather from falling, and the cold tiles at her feet woke her delirious senses.