#sunless lives arc 3

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 25: I Will Wait

~1580 words

CW: drugging, noncon undressing, nonsexual nudity, noncon touch, medical whump, forced institutionalization, ED mention, negative self-talk

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

DR MANDAL: I’d like to know how you like the staff and faculty here so far.

M BECK: Oh, they’re great. Everyone’s been wonderful.

DR MANDAL: No trouble at all?

M BECK: None.

DR MANDAL: That’s good to hear. What about the other patients, do you like your roommates?

M BECK: Sure, they’re alright.

DR MANDAL: No issues?

M BECK: We all wake up with nightmares, so it’s not like it’s fair to complain about that.

DR MANDAL: So no issues, but do you like them?

M BECK: I think so. I think everyone here hates themselves so much, it’s hard to connect with other people.

DR MANDAL: That’s very observant. Would you include yourself in that?

[0:26]

M BECK: Yeah.

~~~

The intake process was terrifying. Whatever drugs he’d been given had worn off enough for Simon to be awake, but not enough for him to resist as he was manhandled by orderlies out of the car and into a hulking rock of a building - the title of Fort wasn’t just for show. He didn’t have much time to look before he was inside, lifted onto a gurney and wheeled through a dizzying maze of hallways and into a cold room. Broad-shouldered orderlies leaned over him, and started taking off his clothes. One unzipped his coat, while another sat him up. The coat was jerked over his shoulders and off, and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Then his turtleneck was peeled off, his arms gripped and guided by strong hands. He whimpered and flinched when they touched his skin directly for the first time, and he distantly registered a laugh. His upper half was dropped back onto the gurney and they set to work on his lower half. Someone pulled off his boots and socks while someone else started unbuttoning his jeans. This sent a shock of panic through Simon, he wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts either, instead his head was overtaken by wordless waves of fear and shame and embarrassment as they pulled his pants and underwear down. A hand briefly grabbed his ass but Simon couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. Tears slipped out and ran down his temple and into his ear. He couldn’t even move to brush them away, much less stop anything that was happening. Someone whistled when his thighs were revealed.

“Bloodbag.”

“Yup.”

“Fuckin’ idiot.”

A vague figure ran a hand over his ribs.

“ED watch?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll be deciding that.”

The orderlies backed off, and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat took over, briskly taking Simon’s vitals and shining lights in his eyes, ears, and mouth. He manually pulled at Simon’s eyelids and jaw himself, and didn’t address Simon as he worked. Then, Simon could only lie there and watch as the worst happened: the doctor received a camera from an orderly and started taking pictures. His face. His scars. The bites. The flash of the camera left Simon blinded and dazed. The doctor barked at the orderlies to flip him over and Simon heard the camera click as he captured his backside as well. Then he was dropped onto his back again, a sheet was thrown over his lower half, and the room was suddenly quiet and empty.

His head flopped to the side on the thin padding of the gurney, mouth agape. Tears and drool slowly leaked out, out of his control. He felt disgusting. Violated. Scared. This had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way Chris would send him to someplace like this. Your boss and your friends were so very worried, Kelly had said - Gina, Amber, and Devon had had a hand in this as well. He needed to talk to Chris. This all had to be some horrible misunderstanding. It had to be.

He wanted Matthew.

He wanted to go home.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Simon drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, but was finally brought back by his stomach growling loudly. He’d lost a lot of his appetite over the last month, but even he could only go so long without eating. He found he could move his arms, and legs, and even slowly sit up. He discovered some thin, scratchy clothes folded at his feet: a long sleeved t-shirt and elastic-waisted pants, both a sickly shade of green, and started the laborious process of putting them on. He felt sick, dizzy, cold, and hungry, and his limbs moved half a second slower than he wanted them to. He had just pulled up the pants and was standing unsteadily against the gurney when the door opened. He flinched back, grabbing the gurney for support. The large redheaded orderly that entered looked him up and down.

“McKenna?”

“Yes?” Simon breathed.

“With me.” He stepped aside and held the door open. Simon tentatively scooted through under his gaze.

“Where-?”

“Left,” the man ordered.

Simon started walking to the left down the hall, but his legs wobbled under him and he staggered into the wall. The large man caught his upper arm, gripping it hard enough to bruise, and dragged him along.

“That hurts, you’re hurting me,” Simon pleaded. No response. “Where are we going?” Nothing. They passed by more doors and under more fluorescent lights, as well as beady-eyed cameras mounted in high corners. The surveillance reminded Simon of Lara’s house, and his heart pounded. He stumbled to keep up. “I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday, can -”

The orderly abruptly stopped and slammed Simon into the wall, pinning him there with an arm across his chest that knocked all the air out of Simon’s lungs.

“Don’t ask me for shit,” he growled, “Don’t ask anyone for shit, just do what you’re told, and shut the fuck up.”

Simon nodded, gasping for air. The orderly held him there for a long, threatening moment, clearly enjoying the power trip. Then it was back to being dragged.

After a few more confusing turns, they passed through a heavy security door and into an open room with round tables and scattered chairs, occupied by a handful of other people in the same green outfits as Simon. Orderlies were dotted around the room, observing as patients drew in coloring books and played checkers. It reeked of mildew and sick. Cameras stared from every corner.

“Don’t make any friends,” the redhead whispered in his ear, and released his arm. Simon staggered a couple steps forward, clutching at his aching bicep. Some of the other patients turned in their seats to watch him with languid curiosity.

Simon hugged himself tightly, breathing fast. He didn’t know what the orderly’s warning meant. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around the room in desperation and his heart leapt when he saw the back of someone in pink scrubs - a nurse, not a patient or orderly. The pink reminded him of Tammy at the clinic, and how kind she’d been. He wove through the tables to where she was talking to another patient.

“Excuse me,” Simon tapped her on the shoulder, “I just got here, I don’t know what’s going on, can you help me?”

She turned around slowly, her thin eyebrows high.

“Okay, number one, do not touch the faculty or staff,” she lectured.

“Oh, sorry, I -”

She snapped her hand closed in front of his face.

“Ah-ah! I don’t want to hear it. Who did your intake?”

“I didn’t - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Do you know your room number?”

“N-no.”

 She huffed.

“Fine, I’ll look everything up for you. What’s your name, do you at least know that?”

“Simon. McKenna.”

“Thank you.” She strode away, ponytail bouncing, and exited through a security door that she opened with a keycard. Simon watched her go, pressing his knuckles to his mouth.

“That’s Linda,” said the patient she had been talking with - a very tall, very skinny man hunched over a hand of cards. Two others sat opposite him, an older man with a significant tremor and a boy younger than Simon, barely an adult.

“You don’t want to mess with her. I’m Chett, you wanna play cards with us?” the skinny man twanged, and grinned black and yellow teeth in an eerily familiar way that made Simon shrink back.

“S-sorry, no thank you,” he stammered.

“C’mon, sweet little thing like you needs friends!” Chett cajoled, but Simon was already backing away. He found a mercifully empty table and slouched down in the slippery plastic chair to wait for Linda. His heart thrummed and his eyes darted around the room at the other patients still giving him sidelong glances. None of them looked particularly friendly. The orderlies, on the other hand, looked downright hostile. They were all large men, some even larger than Matthew, and they glowered down over the patients like a bank of storm clouds.

Matthew. Simon felt tears spring to his eyes again. Hopefully wherever Matthew was sent was better than this. He put his head down on the table, sheltering under his arms. His mind replayed his last moments with Matthew. Their last kiss.

I’ll come get you.

Only a little while.

It’ll be okay.

You fucking idiot.

Regret started to bubble up in his stomach.

Shouldn’t have gone to the clinic.

He winced at the thought. Matthew, the real Matthew, was back and alive, and he was regretting that?

Worthless.

You deserve to be here.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

[butterfrogmantis]

Dirt Boi Committee! + Timber bcuz Miner’s bf. Minus Farmer because my human design is well established. 

Honestly for once I’m actually really happy with all 6 of these designs?? Asdjk the historical bros are especially cool for being bg characters. Anyway, notes!

-Miner has long standing Irish heritage and is pale anyway but coupled with spending half his time in sunless mines as soon as he emerges he blinds everyone in a 3 meter radius. You can use him as an emergency flashlight on dark nights /j However despite being pretty slim in order to fit down mineshafts, he’s far stronger than he looks and can wield a pickaxe like no other Smurf.

-Timber is the 180 body type. Tanned, buff and beefy and hairy. A bear, basically, with large arms for swinging that axe. Excellent hugger, if you don’t mind a couple of cracked ribs /j

-Cockney lad Sweepy! Born and raised in London, refuses to watch Mary Poppins on account of DVD’s bad accent, although does often sing Chim Chimney to himself, he can’t help it. Very lithe and small, one of the shorter men of the village, has to fit down chimneys of course.

-Sloppy, the bane of Tracker’s existence. Tho he’s doing better these days hygiene wise you’ll be pleased to know. That being said he’s essentially works as the village binman so everyone’s rubbish gets collected on time and disposed of properly and he still doesn’t mind being covered in it but he IS to take an immediate shower if he’s to step foot in Sweepy’s house. Owns a black shih tzu called Fly.

-Archie and Pal the reight northern blokes. Nowt they won’t discover and dig, aye. Like all northerners, they’re immune to cold and will be seen in shorts during midwinter. Archie is far more extroverted and Pal is a bit more socially awkward, but both can be very excitable when dealing with their points of interest in history. 

Now for mini doodles

-Not entirely sure what’s going on with Skelly and Archie. Are they friendly rivals, besties, vitriolic best buds, lovers, mortal enemies, a combo of all of the above? Who knows but whatever it is is hilarious. Having dedicated his entire life to the study of ancient Smurf history, to randomly one day have a living ….. uhhhh …. Reanimated ancient Smurf walking around is kind of a big deal to Archie!!

-Self-explanatory Sloppy redemption arc headcanon

-Yay angst w/ Roseate. She’ll be fine, albeit paralysed knees down. Song is ‘Not While I’m Around’ From Sweeney Todd which ironically is also sung by a cockney boy in that show.

-Archie and Pal employee the otherworldly skills of Nova on the frequent. That doesn’t stop them arguing about their finds tho.

Miner, Timber, Sweepy, Sloppy, Archie and Pal (c) The Smurfs

Skelly, Roseate and Nova are mine

[bidaubadeadieu]

Ten Favorite Fictional Characters

I was tagged by @skullhaver​ who chose some rlly choice people. We love so many of the same characters, for so many of the same reasons, but for the sake of fun, I’ll try to pick ones that don’t overlap theirs, or pick some characters off of the beaten path. I find this prompt a little tricky because I tend to fall in love more with worlds than characters. Sunless Skies and Dark Souls jump out to me as worlds that I really like but with no characters that I was really able to latch onto.

1. Rose Quartz, Steven Universe I love Rose Quartz’s selfishness. She spends the whole show kind of oblivious to the way she’s hurting people, although I think she is good of heart and intention. I think her deep empathy for other people manifests as this weird projection where by getting what she wants she genuinely thinks she’s helping others, and has no understanding that other people may not benefit from this. I like the way the narrative slowly reveals more about her, and it was a really exciting mystery to uncover, and to go, like Steven, from kind of revering her, to kind of resenting her, to kind of finding a middle path and acknowledging her complexity. Honorable mention goes to Stevonnie, also from Steven Universe, who is some great nonbinary rep.

2. Satine, Moulin Rouge! When I was in high school, I might have put Satine’s love interest, Christian, on this list, but thanks to gender discovery, I have been able to radically shift the way that I interpret romantic pursuit and seduction. I don’t think this was the intention of the writers, but I think there is ambiguity to be had in Satine’s character. Christian is charming, and the duke is rapey and awful, so I think the audience is supposed to feel that it’s obvious that she will fall for Christian, and of course her appeals to the Duke are only for show, but yet the only thing we know about Satine’s past is she has had a lifelong struggle for security, and I think the choice she is making is a real one. In my read of her character, Satine is like, actually so distant from her own emotional needs that she is not ready to fall in love, and I think she could find Christian’s in-touchness with his aesthetic ideals perturbing and alienating.

3. Karin, Naruto: Shippuden I have to love Karin because no one else will. She is not a good character; the writers make her fawn over Sasuke like 5 years after they should have realized that trope was dumb and juvenile, they gave her a shitty biting-linked power purely to titillate the audience as fanservice, and she gets treated like a punching bag. She’s like literally Naruto’s fucking cousin and they’ve never talked in canon. She represents every missed opportunity that show ever had, and is a perfect example of the way that misogyny hurts worldbuilding. In the New Era, she is kind and gentle with Sarada. Gay aunt vibes. Honorable mention goes to Orochimaru (Boruto only, when he’s in dad-mode) as questionable nonbinary rep, and honorable mentions go to to the rest of the Akatsuki for being absolute freaks, great villain writing, and finally honorable mention goes to Rock Lee for inspiring in me a certain kind of motivation and drive when I need it.

4. Iroh, Avatar: the Last Airbender Legit what is there not to love about this guy? His comic relief holds up after a decade, his wise and compassionate guidance helped foster one of the greatest redemption arcs of all time, and his physical prowess makes from some extremely well-choreographed fights. He really has the range.

5. Clare, The Nightingale (2019) This movie is far more violent than I usually enjoy, but there’s something about Clare’s descent into madness that was done really well. So many people talk these days about “feral women” but like, Clare, she’s feral, in the worst and ugliest ways. Her vengeance is completely justified, and its a rare story that while watching it I find myself thinking “yeah. i want her to commit murder. she deserves it :)” This is Rosemary’s Baby if Rosemary was a Tasmanian tiger.

6. April May, An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (2018) I bet you didn’t know this, but I like shitty, selfish women with hubris. I think they’re good characters. At least April, by virtue of being a protagonist, gets a serious growth arc the the second book, which none of the other characters above are afforded because their writers didn’t take them serious enough.

7. The Biologist, Annihilation (2014) Hey, I bet you didn’t know this, but I resonate with cold women making difficult decisions in survival situations. She is savvy and mostly self-aware, but still struggles with being out of her depth, and I resonate with the the way she is somewhat alienated from her past and her regrets.

8. Zaroff, The Most Dangerous Game (1924) It’s silly, and oversincere, and tropey, but I love the vintage horror of a lawful evil guy who hunts humans for sport. I like his weird period-appropriate racism. I like his faux-sophistication and worldliness. I find him oddly realistic. See also: my love for the Akatsuki, mentioned above.

9. Konata, Lucky Star I haven’t watched this show in over a decade, and I don’t want to, I am positive that it won’t hold up and it’ll be major cringe, but the fact of the matter is that Konata’s personality of gamer grrl, small-titty (because it’s fkn anime so that’s a personality I guess) innuendo-ridden persona despite deep naivete, it all left an indelible impact on my psyche. For better or for worse.

10. Viren, The Dragon Prince We love a power-hungry villain who is like, low-key a freak! We love somebody who sacrifices their humanity to get what they want! I love the way that Viren lies to his son, I love the way he and King Harrow were definitely gay for one another, I love the way that he takes advice from a magic caterpillar that lives in his hear. Honorable mention for Aunt Amaya, who is just wonderful, and we love the lady knight tropes she’s bringing

I will tag: @kit-kaboodle @theclockistickingwrite @fairy-creed @wymanthewalrus @soldier-author-batman @colcoction and you know, anybody else who wants in on the fun

[noblecrumpet-dorkvision]

Dungeon Narrative Checklist

Partly for myself but also for you guys, here's a list of 15 questions to ask while you are designing a dungeon.

Narrative Impact

1) How does the dungeon impact the campaign narrative?

As the players make progress in the dungeon, what new information do they learn about the overarching story? Will this dungeon lead them to the next one somehow?

2) What is the players' agency for going through the dungeon?

What reason do the players have to enter the dungeon other than XP and loot? What are the stakes and how important are they?

3) What moral questions are brought up in the dungeon?

How will the dungeon affect the players themselves? What choices must they make in order to succeed? Will the players be changed by these choices?

4) How are expectations subverted in the dungeon?

What makes dungeons exciting is turning things on their head. Whether it's what you normally expect a certain creature to do or look like or where you expect traps to be placed, changing it can make the dungeon memorable, fun, and challenging for the players.

History of the Dungeon

5) Why was the dungeon created?

Who built the dungeon? Was it a fortress? Temple? Prison? Mine? What groups originally inhabited it? No one (except maybe Acererak) makes a dungeon for just giggles. It either serves defensive, offensive, religious, residential, or commercial use. Maybe the reason isn't immediately apparent from its complexity.

6) How is the dungeon being used now?

Part of what makes a good dungeon is the passage of time. How are its latest inhabitants using it? Maybe a castle is being mined for materials, or maybe a mine has been turned into a defensive castle. Keep in mind the original purpose of the dungeon and reflect upon that. Both purposes should be obvious to the players after some time in the dungeon.

7) What rumors have spread about the dungeon? How did they spread?

Players need a way to be drawn to the dungeon, and this happens through rumors. How has the dungeon's presence affected nearby areas? What creatures are known to inhabit it? What treasures were lost inside? What evils must be slain within? Furthermore, think about how rumors get out. Did some adventuring parties fail before you? Did something escape the dungeon?

Dungeon Denizens

8) What cultures exist in the dungeon?

Who or what lives in the dungeon and how do they cope with their environment? Do they have a structured society? Do they practice a religion? What art items do they create? What are they famous/infamous for?

9) What factions exist in the dungeon and what motives do they have?

Do those that live in the dungeon interact with each other? How do they get along? Why do they or don't they get along? Some groups might not be on good terms with others, which can let the players take sides. A good example is the Sunless Citadel where the kobolds and goblins are enemies in the same dungeon.

10) What is day-to-day life like in the dungeon?

On a daily basis, what do its inhabitants do? Do the orcs have a patrol route? When do the kobolds reset traps? What time of day does the basilisk search for food? You don't have to go into great detail, but it will help you when figuring out how the players meet the denizens. Except for maybe undead/oozes/plants, monsters don't tend to sit in a room and wait for intruders. They have better things to be doing!

Dungeon Design

11) What is the story arc of the dungeon?

What is the beginning, middle, climax, and resolution of your dungeon? How does the dungeon change as the players progress? Things that change could include the environment, terrain, creatures, setting, or mood. Even the players and their goals can change midway through a dungeon. Maybe the dungeon denizens that were initially friendly hide an unforgivable evil in the dungeon. Now the players have to stop their initial allies.

12) What are the story beats of the dungeon?

Break down the individual story elements into one-sentence beats. Make sure they vary in drama, intensity, comedy, and length. In a dungeon setting, an easy way to do this is with the dungeon's rooms. You can control everything the players encounter when separated into sections like that. And never underestimate the importance of empty rooms.

13) What is the expected path for the players to take?

How do you expect your players to traverse the dungeon? Where do they enter and exit? Which rooms do you believe they will investigate first? If you know their path, you can create more interesting encounters through a controlled setting. That being said, make multiple paths to get around the dungeon. Let some be secret and some out in the open. Let players thoroughly explore the space. But manufacture important story moments at "funnels" in the dungeon map where the player can only come from one direction.

14) Which rooms are optional and which are mandatory?

Players don't have to explore every room or find every secret, but reward them with promising loot (potentially guarded by unique threats) if they do explore them. Know which rooms are absolutely necessary for completion or progression and make those rooms enticing to help ensure the players explore them.

15) Is each room and encounter unique?

Make sure the players have a decent variety of enemies to fight, or at least something that makes each fight unique. Equip similar enemies with different weapons, make one into a spellcaster, or include an environmental feature. Alter the shapes of rooms and pathways to add variety. Give each room a unique purpose, when applicable. The only times I might make rooms look the same is for dormitories or cells, in which case I would treat an entire hall as a "room."

[eggoreviews]

Viddy Games Monthly #1 - February 2019

Is this really late? Sure Is!

Here's something new I'm trying! In this 'issue' (lol):

NEW RELEASES - A look back at everything exciting that dropped this month, from Resident Evil 2 to the new 2D Mario!

NEWS - January is usually pretty dry for viddy games, but there's some interesting stuff still!

Release dates, updates and more!

NEW RELEASES

Fitness Boxing (RD: January 4th - Nintendo Switch)

And here we have Nintendo’s first real attempt in this console generation to draw in the fitness crowd they catered to so well with the Wii. Except, Fitness Boxing feels a lot more technical and niche than those other titles from a decade ago. Fitness Boxing’s main draw is teaching you how to improve your boxing form, meaning it’s definitely not one to play with the family unless you’re all die hard boxing fans. But if you’re less interested in picking up the technical aspects, Fitness Boxing works just as well as a fitness companion, coming packed with its own motivational trainer (I haven’t picked this game up purely because it would feel like I’m cheating on the Wii Fit Trainer. Plus this basically dashes all hope of Wii Fit Switch so I’ll need to mourn that for a hot minute).

Mario & Luigi: Bowser’s Inside Story + Bowser Jr.’s Journey (RD: January 11th - Nintendo 3DS)

As the 3DS reaches the end of its lifespan and its screentime in the Nintendo Directs gets shorter, this Mario & Luigi title could well be one of the last RPGs we see on the system. In this enhanced remaster, the worlds of turn based RPG and 2D platformer collide and, coupling this fact with some odd setpieces including Bowser’s literal stomach, also make for one of the weirdest games on the system. Despite this, there’s no doubt that it works. With the addition of the Bowser Jr.’s Journey expansion, there’s undoubtedly a wealth of content to explore here, especially if you’re new to this oddly charming RPG spin-off.

New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe (RD: January 11th - Nintendo Switch)

The latest in a long line of Wii U ports, Nintendo has bundled up Mario U and Super Luigi U and released it yet again on the Switch. This is by no means a bad thing, as we had yet to see a 2D Mario on the system, but the general consensus seems to be that the play time is much shorter than the price would have you believe. Of course, if you’re a die hard Mario fan, there’s no doubt you’ve already picked this up and it’s definitely worth a go if you didn’t have a chance to play on Wii U. Alongside this, new features include new playable characters and helpful items for if you’re like me and are terrible at platformers (I welcome these changes). But really, I think the talk of the town was the fact they patched in Blue Toad before release when everyone got sad that he was absent. Thanks Nintendo.

Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition (RD: January 11th - Windows, Xbox One, PS4, Switch)

An enhanced port with updated HD graphics to celebrate the 10th anniversary of this beloved entry in Bandai Namco’s Tales series. This edition comes packed with a beefy selection of new content, including all that was exclusive to Japan at the time of the PS3 port’s release. Generally, this game scored high at the time of its release, being cited as an interesting and unique JRPG that was made all the better by its trademark combat system that has been carried throughout the series.

The Walking Dead: The Final Season - Episode 3: Broken Toys (RD: January 15th - Windows, Xbox One, PS4, Switch)

Against all the odds, the critically acclaimed Walking Dead game series has somehow survived the closure of its creator, Telltale Games, continuing under Skybound Entertainment. The series continues to shine in critic reviews, which thankfully continues into the penultimate episode, Broken Toys. With a firm release date of the final episode being March 26th, we won’t have to wait long to finally witness the end of Clementine’s story.

Travis Strikes Again: No More Heroes (RD: January 18th - Nintendo Switch)

The third entry in the No More Heroes series has finally arrived 9 years after its second effort, though this time to mixed reviews. The gameplay fans of the series are used to has been totally overhauled this time around, instead throwing Travis into a possessed game console containing six wildly different, self-contained video games. This time, the gameplay is entirely from a top-down perspective. Some enjoyed this radical change of pace for the series, but other fans of Travis believed the drastic change was a little too jarring to enjoy in contrast to this entry’s predecessors.

Resident Evil 2 remake (RD: January 25th - Windows, PS4, Xbox One)

The highly anticipated remake of Capcom’s horror classic finally dropped this month, and let’s be honest, it’s everything fans wanted. The controversial move to ditch the usual fixed camera the early RE games are known for so the game could be built in Capcom’s home-grown Resident Evil 7 engine was what made the game so immersive and genuinely terrifying. With tons of gameplay tweaks, Capcom managed to tread the line between creating a fresh experience and staying faithful to the original game. Entirely different puzzle solutions, new dialogue and a whole new playable character in Sherry Birkin ensures that those who know the original inside out will still have more to discover, but the return of each horrifying boss and setpiece in glorious HD puts the nostalgia into overdrive. Plus, the tofu block came back so really there’s nothing to gripe at.

Kingdom Hearts III (RD: January 29th - Xbox One, PS4)

Here it is. The game fans have been waiting 14 years for. The one that ties every character and confusing plot arc together and says ‘Merry christmas, Baymax is in this game now!’

With a few fan favourite worlds returning among a handful of new ones, Kingdom Hearts has finally launched itself into the current gen with a heartfelt tale of friendship and big hair. There really is very little to say about this, because we all knew it was going to be good.

Also out this month:

First person shooter Bright Memory released this month to positive reception, despite controversy around the stolen assets used by the devs.

Charming adventure game Vane dropped this month, allowing players to explore a beautiful world as a boy who can turn into a bird.

Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown, the critically acclaimed combat flight sim series, released for PS4 and Xbox One, with some great VR content.

Life Is Strange 2 Episode 2 - Rules released this month, continuing the heartfelt tale of two brothers on the run

Gothic Indie RPG Sunless Skies released at the very end of January, showing a detailed focus on narrative and exploration

NEWS

What’s been happenin’? Probably a lot, but this is what I picked up on!

Metroid Prime 4 has gone a bit wonky

As everyone has probably heard by now, the long awaited Metroid Prime 4 has officially been halted and restarted, as announced in a commendably transparent video Nintendo published on their YouTube channel last month. Basically, they weren’t happy with how development was going so they’ve gone back to square one, this time with the help of past Prime developers Retro Studios. Honestly, this is a really good sign, as it shows how committed Nintendo are to creating a solid game to stand next to the other three. Plus, this makes a Prime trilogy switch port way more likely in my eyes, so hooray for that.

Piranha Plant got here early!

At the tail end of January, those who redeemed their plant boi codes turned on Smash and suddenly got the gratefully received ‘Piranha Plant joins the battle’ message! I can confirm I made a bit of a weird dolphin noise when I saw he’d turned up before the estimated February release. In another post, I’ll be breaking down his moveset in a bit more detail, so keep an eye out for that if you’re a fellow plant connoisseur!

Sony patents retro back-compatibility for PS5?

A new patent Sony put through last month that they tried to sneak by us MAY hint at retro back-compatibility for their next system, spanning all four of their home consoles. If this news is true, this could give Sony a massive edge in the next console gen, as remasters and retro games become increasingly popular, as well as the fact that people are unlikely to want to leave the considerable PS4 library behind. So at the very least, we can hope for PS4 games to be playable on the PS5.

Cross platform achievements could be a thing!

A since removed GDC listing teased the possible integration of Xbox Live onto iOS, Android and, interestingly, the Nintendo Switch! At a base level, this would very probably mean that achievements between these two consoles would be cross compatible, or at least viewable on either console. While nothing is confirmed just yet, this could be a sign of the growing partnership between Microsoft and Nintendo.

Nintendo is really lovin’ their mobile games!

With Switch sales beginning to level out ever so slightly, Nintendo seems to be turning to the mobile market. A mobile Mario Kart was announced a couple of years ago, but now it finally has a name, Mario Kart Tour. It’s now slated for a Summer 2019 release. Alongside this, Nintendo have announced Dr. Mario World for mobile, as well as rumours bubbling under that Dragalia Lost could be seeing a localised port for Canada and Europe.

New Nintendo Selects for the States!

Super Mario Maker, The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask 3D and Star Fox 64 3D have arrived in America as Nintendo Selects, thankfully proving that Nintendo aren’t quite willing to let the 3DS die just yet. Not to be that guy, but Majora’s Mask over in Europe as a select would be pretty great. Pls.

Indie Highlights

And finally, Nintendo has dropped another Indie Highlights on us, featuring the likes of Wargroove, When Ski Lifts Go Wrong, Forager and the (long awaited?) Goat Simulator port. Worth a look if you’re looking for something a little wackier to play this month!

That’s all the headlines for this month!

FREE VIDYA

Are you subscribed to whatever online service your console has? Then oh boy, you got some free stuff!

NES Nintendo Switch Online - Blaster Master & Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

This month, Nintendo added the ever wonderful and upsettingly hard Zelda II to their retro lineup, along with lesser known run-and-gun platformer Blaster Master.

PlayStation Plus - Steep & Portal Knights

It’s a good month for snowboard enthusiasts over on the PS4 this month, as Ubisoft’s open world sports game Steep joins the lineup. Alongside this, the artistically charming RPG Portal Knights was free last month. January also marked the final month of PS Plus support for the Vita and PS3, with Fallen Legion: Flames of Rebellion & Super Mutant Alien Assault joining the Vita lineup and Zone of the Enders HD Collection and Amplitude free for PS3 owners

Xbox Game Pass

January was a hecking good month for members of the Xbox game pass, with the entire Life Is Strange saga joining the service, along with other quality games such as Just Cause 3, Farming Simulator 17, Absolver, Aftercharge and ARK: Survival Evolved.

RELEASE DATES

Yoshi’s Crafted World

Nintendo released a story trailer for Yoshi’s creative new outing, showing off Baby Bowser and Kamek as the game’s villains. The release date set for this uniquely cardboard platformer is March 29th, so fans won’t have to wait long!

Kirby’s Extra Epic Yarn

Breathing new life into the 3DS is this enhanced port of Kirby’s Epic Yarn, which originally released on the Wii in 2010. Featuring all new content that wasn’t available the first time around, fans of the Kirby series will be able to pick this up from March 8th.

Final Fantasy remasters

After the exciting announcement in September that beloved Final Fantasy games would be coming to other consoles in 2019, Square Enix have finally announced release dates for a couple of these titles. Final Fantasy X/X-2 HD Remaster will hit the Switch and Xbox One on April 16th, while Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age arrives on both of these consoles on April 30th.

RUMOURS

Welcome to probably the most controversial segment of this, the rumour-y bit! Just a pre-warning that nothing talked about here is by any means confirmed, so keep your expectations tempered.

SNES for Switch Online?

A recent datamine into the NES Switch Online app has apparently revealed a list of 20 SNES games in the code that could be coming to the system in the future, including Mario World, Kirby Superstar, A Link to the Past and Super Metroid. I’m hesitant to say this is true because nothing has been said on Nintendo’s end yet, but considering the lack of content for Switch Online as of yet, I’d say it’s fairly likely in any case. If this is true, we can all hope for DK Country and EarthBound also because pls Nintendo.

Smash Ultimate Fighter Pass Leak

There have been two notable datamines in the past month that could reveal our four remaining DLC fighters for Smash Ultimate. The first uncovered three names in the coding for the game, Plant (obviously referring to Piranha Plant), Jack (Likely Joker from Persona 5) and Brave (Speculated to be Erdrick from the Dragon Quest series). The reason why Brave is so heavily speculated to be Erdrick is because, in Japan, the hero class Erdrick belongs to in Dragon Quest is called ‘Yusha’, which translates to brave in English. Alongside this, one of the heads of development for Smash Ultimate, Shinya Kumazaki, recently posted a photo of the iconic shield from Dragon Quest with the caption ‘the brave’s shield’, which naturally sent the internet into meltdown. Personally, I think Erdrick is pretty much a dead cert for the DLC roster at this point, especially after that Instagram tease.

Thanks for reading!

In the next issue, most likely in the first week of March, I’ll be reviewing the likes of Jump Force, Metro Exodus, Far Cry New Dawn and Anthem, plus giving you a rundown of anything game-y that happens in February! Plus, the new game of the month feature will begin next time, as I explain my choice for January’s best game. Have a fun day. Stay hydrated.

[kickstarter]

Happening: The saga continues

Today’s Happening is brought to you by John Watson, co-founder of the independent game developer Stoic and technical director of an RPG trilogy about Vikings that we bet you’ve heard of: The Banner Saga. Watson began programming at age six and has since delved into professional game development and science-related engineering. Banner Saga 3, the third and final chapter of the story-driven game, is live on Kickstarter through March 7.

From Banner Saga 3

Lately I’m really inspired by: High-quality television — this longform storytelling format has really come into its own. In particular, I like series that take a deliberate approach to creating story arcs, like Stranger Things, Fargo, and True Detective.

Right now I’m reading: The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Reading biographies and historical nonfiction creates new mental connections between myself and the past and stimulates speculative extrapolation into the future.

My dream creative collaboration would be with: Cartoon Saloon, on a Banner Saga animated series.

Three projects I love

I’ve spent so many hours absorbed in the world of Sunless Sea

I'm immediately attracted to any game resembling a Southern Gothic story

Swans can be a musical experience of epic intensity, and their story is a fascinating one

Links I like

An homage to one of the best TV series of all time

Stephen Hawking provides a stark warning and a message of hope

A critically important part of the world seen from an amazing viewpoint:

As the Voyager spacecraft exited the fringes of our solar system, this is what it saw

Etc.

Lost in light

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Sunless Lives Part 26: I Will Make You Better

~1220 words

CW: Medical whump, therapist/doctor whumper, mention of past noncon, clinical discussion of suicide and self harm, panic, flashbacks, overmedication, pressured eating 

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~~~

DR MANDAL: You know I have to ask. Where are you right now with your relationship with Simon?

M BECK: I know. I know I keep flip flopping. But it really depends on where he’s at once he gets out of Summerwhite.

DR MANDAL: I’ve noticed something. Let me know if you think I’m wrong. In all of our discussions about whether you will maintain a relationship with Simon, and what kind of relationship it will be, you always hang your decision on his feelings. His mental health. His experience. Do you think that’s accurate?

M BECK: Yeah. I just want him to be happy.

DR MANDAL: I’d like you to try thinking more about your feelings, your health, your experience. What’s going to be the best for you?

M BECK: I want to be with him.

DR MANDAL: I understand that, and if it works out that’s wonderful. But Matthew, you are still having severe flashbacks. Additionally, you described that interacting with Simon brought on upsetting flashbacks while you were together in the clinic. Now, I see your face, I’m not saying that this would make a relationship impossible. All I want is for you to consider your own health and safety when you think about how a relationship with Simon would work.

[0:55]

M BECK: [Unintelligible]

DR MANDAL: Matthew, take deep breaths. You’re okay. You’re here with me. Breathe with me.

M BECK: [Unintelligible]

DR MANDAL: I know, Matthew. I know.

~~~

“And how would you rate your desire to harm yourself, zero being none and ten being you have a plan to kill yourself?”

“Zero.”

The gray-haired doctor, Deckard, glared at Simon over the top of his glasses.

“Lying won’t get you out of here sooner.”

“I’m not lying.” Simon did his best to keep his voice gentle, soft, non-argumentative, the way everyone liked it. It was hard with how much his stomach hurt.

“You were voluntarily a vampire’s chew toy until last week, that’s self-harm. If he showed up right now to take you away with him, would you go?”

“No.” That was a lie. The thought of Matthew - human or vampire - taking Simon away from this horrible place was almost more hopeful than he could bear.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you don’t tell me the truth I’m writing you up.”

Simon winced.

“One,” he compromised, “Just one.”

“Hm.” Dr Deckard’s pen scraped across his clipboard, writing far more than a tally in a feelings chart. Simon’s knee bounced with nerves.

He was sitting across from Deckard in the doctor’s office, a massive cluttered desk between them. It could have been a bright room, but the tall arched windows were covered with cheap blinds. Fluorescent panel lights hung from the water-stained ceiling, flickering just enough to be noticeable but not enough to be fixed. Bookshelves along one wall were too neat to be used much, contrasting with the paperwork-flooded desk.

“My job,” Dr Deckard announced suddenly, “Is to make sure that you are not a threat to yourself or others. We’ve started working on the ‘yourself’ part already.” He leaned forward to look at Simon, adding the clipboard to the stacks on his desk. “Let’s start on the other. Tell me about Lara.”

Simon’s heart rate picked up instantly, his own eyes bouncing between Dr Deckard’s watery blue ones. Surely he’d misheard the doctor.

“What?”

“You became violent while under great duress before, I need to make sure it won’t happen again while you’re here.”

Christian told him.

Of course he did.

“It won’t.”

“Regardless. Walk me through the events leading up to your outburst.”

Outburst?

“I don’t…” Simon felt a lump growing in his throat. He felt stupid for crying so easily, But he was so tired, and his stomach hurt, and he’d only found one friendly face in this whole facility.

“What made you so angry with Lara?”

It wasn’t anger. It was never anger. Simon could never be angry with Lara. But he was so scared of antagonizing the doctor that he didn’t correct it.

Bowers.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dr Deckard tried a comforting smile, but it came off more like a chimp baring its teeth.

“I need to know, it’s for the best. For everyone’s safety.”

I need to know.

Simon was back there in an instant, trapped under Matthew.

This is for your own good.

“I really don’t-” he hiccupped with a suppressed sob, “I can’t-”

I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to tell me.

Simon pressed his hands to his face, shrinking down in the chair.

“Where are you right now, Simon? Are you with Lara?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” His voice strained with the effort of speaking quietly. He didn’t want to yell. He couldn’t yell. Not after the first time.

“Is Lara hurting you?”

Even now, Simon couldn’t help but defend her.

“Lara never hurt me,” he said, the words coming out in a low whine.

“Captain Isles…” Dr Deckard shuffled through the papers in front of him, and his voice grew stronger when he found what he was looking for. “Isles relayed that Lara would hit you and sexually assault you. Is that not true?”

It was. It wasn’t. Lara was different. But Simon knew Dr Deckard would believe Christian over him, so he nodded, dropping his hands to his lap and rubbing them anxiously against his thighs.

“It’s not true?”

Fuck.

Simon felt his stomach roll, and he clutched at it. He was given so many pills, and he knew they were wreaking havoc on his body. The doctors and nurses asked so many confusing questions, and made all sorts of assumptions, until it was too far beyond Simon’s ability to explain everything in the right way, in a way that would make sense to them, in a way that would make them leave him alone.

Fucking idiot.

“She did, but that’s not what - that’s not what I’m, I’m upset about, I just - please, I don’t want to talk about this, I don’t feel well!” he sobbed.

“Simon, look at me,” said Dr Deckard, quiet but firm, “You need to try. You have to want to get better.”

He wanted to get better, he really did. Matthew had told him to.

But this felt wrong.

The next tear-filled and flashback-riddled twenty minutes went nowhere. Simon was deposited back in the common room with a protein drink, red-eyed and exhausted.

“Hey sweet thing.” Chett approached him immediately. “Rough sesh?”

Simon nodded gratefully. He had wildly misjudged Chett at their first encounter - apparently Simon was unfamiliar with southern hospitality. He let Chett lead them to his usual table. It was just the two of them that day; Chett’s previous companions were long gone after their 72-hour holds. About two-thirds of Fort Summerwhite’s occupancy came and went like that. It was dizzying for Simon to almost always be surrounded by strangers, especially as he slept in a room with two others. But Chett had become a kindly constant, and he helpfully reminded Simon to keep swigging the protein drink as they played gin rummy with shaking hands.

He was underweight - if he took too long to drink it, he’d get in trouble.

No one wanted to get in trouble at Summerwhite.

~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

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Sunless Lives Part 29: I Will Take You Home

~2270 words

CW: discussion of suicide (but we know it’s actually the) aftermath of attempted murder by drugging, sedation, medical setting

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~~~

“Captain Isles!”

Matthew’s voice boomed through the parking garage. He’d been loitering by Isles’ white Lincoln Aviator for the last hour, waiting for the Captain to get out of work.

“Beck.” Isles slowed his approach, stopping a few yards away from Matthew.

“I want to see Simon,” Matthew demanded, “I hear you’re the man to talk to.”

Isles nodded slowly.

“He wants to see you too.”

This response caught Matthew off guard.

“You’ll let me?”

“You, and getting out, were all he would ever ask about, before…” He trailed off, looking away.

“How is he?” Matthew asked, his voice a little softer.

“Not good,” Isles admitted, “They keep him pretty sedated for his own safety, and it’s… not pretty.”

“When can I see him?”

Isles met his gaze, solemn and steady.

“I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

~~~

Matthew walked quickly enough to make the visitor’s tag bounce where it was clipped to the collar of his light spring jacket. Isles strode alongside him, grim and quiet, as they were led by an orderly through twisting hallways and multiple security doors. The building had a hint of dinginess and a heavy silence aside from their footsteps that made Matthew nervous.

“How much research did you do on this place before you put him here?” Matthew asked.

“It’s the only facility on the east coast that’s impervious to vampires,” Isles replied, “That was all that mattered to me. At the time.”

Matthew believed in the level of security. They had passed armed guards with dogs outside, and they each had to do a blood test at reception before being let through a pair of heavy gates.

It all hardly mattered if someone was in more danger from themselves than a vampire.

They rounded a corner and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat fell into step with them.

“Captain Isles, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” The doctor was obviously trying to sound pleased to see Isles, and was failing miserably. “Who’s your friend?”

Isles slowed his pace considerably.

“Dr Deckard, this is… Matthew Beck.”

The doctor stopped short.

“Captain, I thought we were in agreement that Beck’s presence would be dangerous for Simon.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Isles said flatly.

Matthew watched the exchange, a little offended that neither were directly acknowledging him.

“Simon is far too vulnerable for this right now, this is something I’d need weeks to prepare him for, at the very least.” Dr Deckard was arguing, but shrinking back at the same time, fiddling with his tie and running a hand through his thin hair. In contrast, Isles stood tall and radiated authority.

“I think I get the final say here,” the Captain said.

“Y-yes, of course.” Dr Deckard finally cast Matthew a brief glance, then turned on his heel to lead them onwards. “This way, gentlemen.”

Simon’s room was only a few doors further; Dr Deckard unlocked it with a keycard and held the door for Isles and Matthew. Matthew’s heart pounded as he followed the Captain in. Four months. He hadn’t seen Simon in four months, and now they were going to be in the same room together. Would he panic? Would Simon panic? Or would it be joyful? Would they kiss? Would Simon reject him? Would -

Simon lay on his back in the bed, his head turned towards them and his eyes closed. His expression was soft, peaceful, and his face was full and round like it should be, not the gaunt shadowy thing Matthew had seen last. His wrists were restrained to the bed frame, but the straps were thickly padded and not too tight.

He looked okay. Not horrible, not perfect, but safe. Alive.

The only thing that caught Matthew off guard was Simon’s hair: it had been shaved recently, and was currently a shadow of peach fuzz.

“His hair, what-” he mumbled, unable to look away from Simon’s unconscious form.

“After he took the pills, he fell and hit his head rather badly. We needed his hair out of the way to stitch it up.” Dr Decker explained, watching Matthew carefully.

“Pills?” A lump formed in Matthew’s throat.

“Yes. He stole them from the pharmacy.”

Matthew took a shuddering breath.

“Is he - will he wake up? Can I talk to him?”

“He’ll be foggy, but yes. But you should know,” Dr Deckard warned, “He’s been quite the chronic liar during his stay here. I wouldn’t put much stock in anything he says, particularly under the effects of the sedative.”

Simon: a liar, a thief, and suicidal. Matthew couldn’t wrap his head around it. He pulled up a chair and sat as close as he could to Simon’s bedside, right in front of Simon’s face. Isles and the doctor hung back, observing.

“Simon?” Matthew reached over and took Simon’s hand in his. It was limp and cool. “Simon, I’m here.” Simon’s fingers twitched and Matthew gave them a gentle squeeze. Simon’s eyelids fluttered and Matthew’s heart soared.

“There you are, there you are.”

Simon’s eyes opened, and met Matthew’s.

Nothing.

Simon stared blankly, with no recognition. Matthew’s guts twisted and plunged with horror, and he sat frozen for a long second. Then three. Then five.

Then Simon’s eyes widened.

“Mm’thew,” he whispered.

Matthew sobbed with relief.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m here!”

“Matthew,” Simon rasped, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

I’m sorry, Matthew, I didn’t mean it, please don’t be mad -

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Matthew soothed, suppressing the memory, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” He twisted in his seat to glare at Isles.

“We’re taking him home. Today.”

Isles shook his head.

“There are still vampires-”

“Fuck the list!” Matthew snapped, and Simon’s fingers flinched within his, “This place is going to kill him before any of them do.”

“Simon is in a very fragile state at the moment,” Dr Deckard cut in, “I would not recommend moving him.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Simon was still whispering apologies.

Isles looked back and forth between them all, conflicted.

“Cap, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

Isles’ gaze settled on Simon, his brow heavy. He took a short breath.

“Fine. But he stays with me.”

That was good enough for Matthew. He turned back to Simon.

“You hear that? You’re…” But then he heard what Simon was saying.

“I cheated on you, I’m so sorry Matthew, I cheated on you, I had to…”

“Woah, hey,” Matthew reached out to caress Simon’s head with his free hand, “What do you mean, what happened?”

“With, with an orderly, Matthew, I had to,” mumbled Simon. Matthew’s head snapped back around to glare at Dr Deckard.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

“Like I said,” Dr Deckard shrugged innocently, “He lies, for attention, to try and get special treatment. What he’s saying is impossible, the whole facility is covered in cameras that are observed at all times, and all our staff and faculty are thoroughly vetted. I’m sorry, but he’s lying to you.”

“Why would he tell me a lie that would upset me?”

“More likely, he’s trying to make me and the employees here look bad.” the doctor smiled sadly. “It’s not uncommon for patients like him to have a victim complex. You coming to rescue him and infantilize him is exactly what he wants. I strongly recommend against removing him from my care at this time.”

“Isles?” Matthew looked to the Captain. Isles turned to Dr Deckard.

“Please bring me whatever paperwork I need to have him released,” he requested.

“Alright, but you’re just going to bring him back in a week or so when you realize you can’t handle him, and I’ll have to start back at square one.”

“Just do it. Please.”

Dr Deckard left in a huff. Matthew ignored him, turning his attention back to Simon. Simon had fallen back asleep, tears dried on his face, so Matthew just gently stroked his knuckles and his brow and waited. Eventually a nurse arrived with a clipboard full of paperwork for Isles. After that, everything happened rather quickly. A wheelchair was brought, and a pair of orderlies unstrapped Simon from the bed and moved him to the chair. Matthew winced when he saw the back of Simon’s head when it lolled forward; there was a line of thick stitches. Then Simon lifted his head, and mumbled incoherent questions as they wheeled him out of the building. Matthew stuck right by him, speaking soothing words and touching his shoulder. It felt like they were doing something illegal, somehow, as they ushered him quickly out of the maw of the fortress and to the sunny parking lot. Matthew shooed the orderlies away and lifted Simon into Isles’ car himself, and got in the back seat with him. Isles got into the driver’s seat, depositing a plastic bag full of Simon’s winter clothes from four months ago into the passenger seat. Matthew buckled Simon in then laid him down with his head on Matthew’s thigh. Simon's eyes blinked open, glassy and soft.

“Are we going home?” he murmured.

Matthew wondered what ‘home’ he was imagining - the VIU? Their Boston studio? Maybe even Lara’s house, or his childhood home.

“You’re going to stay with Isles for a while,” Matthew said as the car started to move, “You’re never going back to Summerwhite, okay?”

Simon’s foggy gaze drifted across Matthew’s face.

“Which one are you?” he mumbled, his brows pinching slightly.

“I…” Matthew glanced up at Isles - the captain was focused on the road. “It’s me, Simon. I’m human, it’s me.”

“Oh… Good.” But Simon didn’t sound relieved. Mildly disturbed, Matthew stroked Simon’s face in what he hoped was a calming way. Simon relaxed a little, his forehead softening and his eyes fluttering closed.

Fort Summerwhite was an hour and a half west of DC, and they made good time to Isles’ house. The two bedroom blue craftsman was tiny, but having a detached home with its own backyard this close to the capitol was a massive luxury. Matthew scooped Simon up and carried him up the steps to the wide porch bridal style while Isles unlocked the door.

“Put him in my room for now, in the back to the right,” Isles said, holding open the door, “It’ll take me a minute to set up the pull-out.”

Matthew made his way to Isles’ bedroom, his arms straining under Simon’s weight. His healthy weight, he reminded himself, not like -

Pressing his fingers into the indents of ribs. Pinching skin just to watch how long it took the color to come back.

Matthew laid Simon down on Isle’s bed and jumped back like he’d been burned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Not now. Get it together.

He double checked that Simon was lying comfortably and hurried back out of the bedroom. He took a moment to glance around the house; he’d never been there before. It smacked of someone who wanted to look like marriage material, but hadn’t quite stuck the landing. It was a little over decorated here, a little under decorated there. Lots of beiges and blues and Target throw pillows. He found Isles in the second bedroom that he had outfitted as an office, unfolding a small couch out into a bed. Matthew wordlessly assisted, catching the extension and lowering it down.

“Now I just need to remember where I stashed the sheets for this thing,” Isles muttered.

“Do you have enough food for two people? If you don’t mind me borrowing your car, I could make a grocery run,” Matthew offered, eager to help in any way he could think of.

“Actually, Beck… Matthew, I…” Isles looked at him, searching for the words. Matthew’s heart sank.

“No.”

“Matthew, I’m going to follow Dr Deckard’s recommendation. I don’t think you should be around Simon.”

“I’m not a vampire anymore! I pose no threat, none at all.”

“You still pose a threat to his mental health,” Isles argued, “I don’t want you playing with his emotions.”

“Playing with his emotions? Cap, you really think I would do that?” Matthew asked, incredulous. “I love him, I need to be here for him!”

Isles paused, frowning - but didn’t budge.

“No. You need to call someone to come pick you up, I don’t want you here when he comes to.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Matthew demanded, raising his voice. “Shouldn’t Simon get a say in this?”

“Yes, I’m serious!” Isles’ voice was immediately louder than his, “And Simon is under my custody, it’s my responsibility to keep him safe.”

“You really think I’m that dangerous?”

“Yes!” Isles hollered, “Now get out of my house before I have you arrested for trespassing!”

Matthew froze. He was still on probation from the rehab facility, any trouble with the law and he would go right back. No phone calls. No dad. And an even slimmer chance of getting to see Simon again.

“What even was this, then?” he asked, his voice wobbling, “Why even let me come with you?”

Isles glowered at him.

“It was a mistake. He’s better off without you.”

“No, I…”

“He’s better off. Without you.”

Letting Isles see him cry would be beyond humiliating, so Matthew turned and fled. He pulled his phone out of his pocket - an old smartphone with a cracked screen that his dad had enough foresight to resurrect and set up for him before he got out - and dialed Gina.

“Yellow?”

“I’m at Isles’, can you come pick me up?” Matthew sobbed.

“I can come right now. What happened?”

“I can’t, I can’t, please, just… Get here soon.”

~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

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Sunless Lives Part 28: I Will Not Bend

~1380 words

CW: forced institutionalization, threatened noncon, drugging, force feeding, attempted murder, character thinks they’re going to die but they don’t!

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~~~

M BECK: I’ve decided something.

DR MANDAL: Oh?

M BECK: It’s not the preybonding. Ever since I was cured I was scared it was just the preybonding. But I don’t think it ever was. I love him. I always did.

DR MANDAL: Does this change your plans for your relationship?

M BECK: It means I have to do what’s right for Simon, whatever that may be.

~~~

“Is Matthew out yet?”

Simon asked that every time Christian visited, roughly every three weeks.

“No.”

The same answer as always.

“I want out.”

Christian’s response to that was the same every time too.

“I’m still working on your list, kid.”

Simon’s eyes darted up and around the visitor’s room. It was far nicer, far cleaner than the rest of Fort Summerwhite. The chairs were comfy. The table was unscratched. The lights worked.

It was a fine facade, and with an orderly watching him from the corner, there was nothing Simon could do to crack it.

He’d tried, the first time Christian had visited. He’d aired his ills until he was in near hysterics, and had been dragged away to a horrifying week in solitary. When he got out he’d groped and clung to Chett for days. The second time Christian visited Simon tried to talk about it, but received a threatening stare from the observing orderly and the distinct impression from Christian that he thought Simon had lost it. He’d taken a tour of the facilities, he said gently, everything seemed so nice.

You don’t need to lie to me to get out of here sooner.

So their visits went nowhere. Christian chatted brightly about how he was rebuilding the team, but never said why Gina and Devon were gone. He talked about how he was taking down the vampires on Simon’s list - he really was doing that, at least, which brought Simon some small relief. He talked about the VIU’s new director; someone had leaked Yarl’s dealings with vampire compounds, and he had to step down. Georgia Dune had replaced him, and was breaking apart compounds with a vengeance.

Simon tried to suggest that he return to work for the VIU, knowing Dune had a soft spot for him, just Christian shut him down.

“You’re still… You need to get better,” Christian said.

Better than what?

He felt fine. He only ever felt strange when Reeder slipped up and he was forced to take some unnamed, unknown medication. Otherwise, he felt sharp as ever - he was eating healthily. He'd blown through all the novels and puzzle books kept in the common room. He needed out. He needed Matthew.

He needed his goddamn phone call.

~~~

He expressed his need to Reeder, the next time he was pulled into the storage closet. It was just the two of them that evening, which wasn’t unusual - Hahns only participated half the time.

“It’s been weeks,” Simon said, doing his best to keep his voice sweet and hopeful rather than the angry snap it wanted to be. “You said you'd see what you could do.”

“I will, I will,” Reeder brushed him off, as usual. He stepped up close to Simon, which was not usual. Simon stepped back, and Reeder followed, until Simon’s back was pressed against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, no longer sweet.

“I was thinking, now that you’re not skin and bones anymore, your body’s pretty hot. I thought we could take things to the next level.” Reeder’s hands slid over Simon’s hips. Simon knocked them away.

“No,” he said firmly, “That’s not part of the deal.”

“But it could be.” Reeder pressed his hands to the wall on either side of Simon’s head, boxing him in.

Get out, now.

“Nope.” Simon ducked under Reeder’s thick arm, but Reeder caught his shoulder and slammed him back into the wall, pinning him like he had that first day.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he hissed.

This is bad.

Maybe we -

No. Not this time.

Matthew wouldn’t want you to.

Simon jerked his head forward and slammed his forehead into Reeder’s. Reeder stumbled back with a sharp cry. Simon tried to dart around the large man but he caught Simon and shoved him back towards the wall. 

“Stop fighting me, you stupid fucking -”

As Reeder hurled slurs and curses, Simon tried once more to push past him. This time Reeder grabbed his shirt, lifted him up, and slammed him into the ground.

Too close to a shelf.

The clang of his skull hitting the bottom shelf of the unit reverberated through Simon’s entire body, stealing his breath, his thoughts, his sight. His head pulsed and pounded as it rolled limply to the side. He saw his own hand twitching uncontrollably through darkened tunnel vision, and Reeder’s feet stepping back and forth. Simon could distantly hear him, swearing and apologizing, then - he was gone. The door was closing.

Simon wasn’t sure how long he laid there, or if he was even conscious the whole time, but Reeder returned eventually. He dropped some things to the ground with a clatter and Simon saw a pill bottle roll into his line of vision. Then a hand turned his face upward and he saw Reeder leaning over him, pill chute in hand.

No.

Reeder pried open Simon’s mouth with ease and shoved the plastic cylinder in, hard and deep. Simon gagged, but had no strength to expel it. He moaned, the plastic in his mouth giving him an eerie animalistic sound. He heard the rattle of the pill bottle, and Reeder’s frantic mumblings.

“It’ll be okay, it’ll all be over soon, don't worry.”

Simon managed to lift a hand towards the chute in his mouth, but Reeder seized it and pinned it down under his knee.

“No no no no no, just hold still!”

He upturned the pill bottle over the chute, and Simon choked and teared up when he felt the pills hit the back of his throat. Then he heard the crinkle of a plastic bottle, and he had only a second to brace before his mouth and throat were flooded with stale water. He gagged and sputtered, sending water up his nose and down the wrong pipe, prompting uncontrollable coughing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Reeder ripped the pill chute out and clamped his hands down over Simon’s nose and mouth. Simon convulsed on the floor, eyes rolling and free hand grabbing weakly at Reeder’s sleeves. The back of his head screamed white-hot where it was being pressed into the floor. The pills and the water swirled in his mouth 

“Swallow!” Reeder ordered, as he had many times before, “Just swallow, fucking stupid!”

Eventually Simon obeyed, swallowing painfully with a full-body shudder. Reeder lifted his hands and allowed Simon to gasp and choke for air.

“Reeder,” Simon croaked between coughs, “Reeder, please…”

“Shouldn’t have fought me. Dumn fuckin’ bloodbag,” Reeder said, breathing heavily. He stood, the pill chute clutched in a white-knuckled fist. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m really sorry.” He even sounded like he meant it a little.

“Reeder!” Simon rasped, but Reeder was gone. Simon was alone.

Get it out get it out get it OUT.

It took three tries for Simon to roll onto his side, still coughing and gasping. He felt blood creeping through his hair in hot rivulets. He brought a hand to his mouth and pushed his fingers into his bruised and battered throat. He hadn’t had to force himself to puke in a long time. It was - who was it? - Gloria. He had to empty his stomach after each of her visits. He’d gotten good at it. This would be easy.

But as his fingers weakly prodded and pressed, he only hacked and gagged, nothing more. He reached out, felt around, and found the discarded pill bottle; but his vision was so narrow and blurry he couldn’t read the label. The bottle dropped from his hands as it hit him.

I’m going to die here.

He reached for the door, but he didn’t have the strength to pull himself towards it.

I’m going to die here.

“Help.” His voice was a strangled whisper. No one would ever hear him.

I’m going to die here.

I’m going to die.

I’m going to die.

I’m going to die.

~~~

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Sunless Lives Part 27: I Will Be a Good Boy

This is a rough one, please be wary.

~1980 words

CW: explicit noncon/dubcon, threat of violence, abuse of power, medical setting, doctor/therapist whumper

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~~~

DR MANDAL: So. The altercation.

M BECK: That was so embarrassing.

DR MANDAL: It’s okay. No one was really hurt.

M BECK: I feel like I scared everyone.

DR MANDAL: Would you feel better if you could apologize? Not just to James, I know you already did that, but to everyone else?

M BECK: Yeah.

DR MANDAL: I can arrange for you to talk at dinner tonight. Would that be too much?

M BECK: No, that would be great. Thank you.

DR MANDAL: So what happened, exactly?

M BECK: I just. I thought he said his name was Bowers. And I just saw red, I don’t know.

DR MANDAL: Who’s Bowers?

M BECK: The one, the one I made Simon tell me about. Sorry, the vampire, the vampire forced him to talk about it.

DR MANDAL: Okay. So there are a lot of tough feelings there.

M BECK: Yeah. Yeah.

DR MANDAL: Here. Tissue.

[0:39]

DR MANDAL: Do you want to talk about it more?

M BECK: No. Not right now. Sorry.

DR MANDAL: Don’t apologize. This is your time, we should use it how you see fit.

~~~

“I'd like you to tell me about how you first met Lara.”

Tears dripped onto Simon’s lap. He’d given up on trying to remain composed in his sessions with Dr Deckard. Given up on trying to appear collected, and rational. Dr Deckard would never believe it anyway.

“I don’t want to talk about Lara,” he said. Like clockwork. He didn’t want to talk about Lara. He didn’t want to talk about Matthew. He didn’t want to talk about any of the clients. Deckard would drag it out of him piece by piece anyway.

“I’m trying to gather a comprehensive view of your life, Simon,” Dr Deckard said calmly, “It is my belief that your irrational tendencies stretch back far beyond your choice to accompany Matthew. If I can gain a better understanding of your choices, then I will be better able to help you.”

“I don’t…” Simon’s eyes wandered over Dr Deckard’s desk as he rethought his wording. “I’m not talking about Lara.”

“Are you having trouble remembering?” Dr Deckard didn’t wait for an answer. “Maybe some time in solitary would allow you to clear your head. Really focus.”

The threat was obvious. Cruel. Simon’s hands twisted together in his lap. Dr Deckard rapped on his desk.

“You’re doing it again.”

Simon quickly separated his hands and flattened them against his thighs. He took a slow breath. It would be just like telling Matthew.

No it won’t.

He could use the same words, at least. Dr Deckard wouldn’t be satisfied with that, but it would use up the time. There was a clock on the wall but it was positioned behind Simon, where Dr Deckard could see it but not his patients. Simon was left to estimate how much of the half-hour session had elapsed. He used to twist around to look at the clock, until the aggressive pen scratches the act caused, and the anxiety that those scratches brought on in turn, became too unbearable. 

He waffled. He was vague. He found loops of questions to wander through repeatedly. He spoke slowly, and stretched out his pauses. 

It was excruciating. Exhausting. And when he was finally spat back out into the common room, he was frighteningly alone.

~~~

“I didn’t mean to!” Simon shrieked, "It was an accident, please, I didn’t mean it!”

His voice echoed down the halls as he was bodily dragged along by Reeder, the redhead, and Hahns, his equally tall friend.

Chett had warned him. He’d warned him about this. After two months of being Simon’s only friend, he was released, and had grabbed Simon’s hand tightly on his last day.

“You don’t know it, but I been lookin’ out for you. You need to be careful when I’m gone. Tread lightly, y’know?”

It had only taken two days for Reeder to sneak up behind Simon and whisper “Boo!” in his ear. Simon had spun around and elbowed him without thinking. That had resulted in Simon being tackled and hauled away by Reeder and Hahns. At first Simon assumed they were taking him to solitary - a frighteningly lonely place where he’d spent two days after raising his voice in his first session with Dr Decker when he learned he had no phone privileges, and then a whole week after Christian’s first visit - but his dread turned to panic when they passed the stairs and kept going.

“Where are you taking me? Please, I’ll be good, please…” Their grip on his arms pinched and twisted his skin painfully.

“Hear that?” said Hahns, “He’ll be good.”

Reeder laughed. Simon felt like he might throw up. They finally threw him into a storage room, full of paper napkins and plates and plastic cutlery, all in plastic bags on metal shelves. No cameras here. Simon stumbled and collapsed to the floor.

“Now what?” Hahns asked. He seemed to be newer, to be under Reeder’s guidance.

“Now we do what we like.” Reeder crouched to address Simon. “Ain’t that right, sweet thing?”

Hearing Chett’s accent and pet name come out of Reeder’s mouth made Simon’s skin crawl. He scrambled across the floor until he was pressed into the corner, chest heaving.

“You can’t, I’ll - I’ll tell Dr Deckard, he-”

“He won’t believe you.” Reeder fished through a bag of utensils and produced a white plastic knife. “Especially when we tell him you’re lying because we saw you hurt yourself.” He lunged for Simon, seizing an arm and twisting it out, pushing up the sleeve and pressing the knife to Simon’s soft flesh. The plastic wouldn’t cut, but with enough force the scalloped edge could rip. Simon suppressed a whimper, eyes glued to the knife.

“So what’ll it be?” Reeder hummed, his breath hot on Simon’s face. “A week strapped to a table in the observation room, or you do what we say and I’ll bring you extra cookies from the kitchen.”

Simon was on a strict meal plan that bordered on too much. The idea of eating more made Simon nauseous - and so did the idea of doing ‘what they said.’ But he’d also heard of the humiliation and horror of the observation room, and had no interest in ending up there.

What would Matthew want me to do?

That had become his go-to decision-making framework lately. But it wasn’t as helpful here as he’d hoped. Matthew wouldn’t want him to suffer, wouldn’t want someone marking up his property; but he wouldn’t want anyone touching his property either, and that was certainly what the orderlies’ leering grins were suggesting. There was no good option here. His thoughts whirled, and something struck him.

Maybe he could use it to his advantage.

Maybe he could do this, by his own choice. It couldn’t hurt to have two orderlies in his pocket. They were interested in his main skillset, after all. An eerie, dead calm overtook him. What’s one more humiliation, after all? It always happened anyway. Might as well be his own choice. Refusing would only bring pain.

Sorry, Matthew. I’m so sorry.

“No meds,” he breathed, eyes flicking from the knife to Reeder’s eyes and back, “I don’t want to take any medication anymore.”

“I think I can swing that,” Reeder said, pleased as punch that Simon was negotiating.

“And… I know there are enough rooms for me to have my own,” Simon ventured, “No roommates.”

“Getting a little greedy, are we?” Reeder pressed the knife down a little harder.

Simon knew what to do. He knew how to look at Reeder, how to lift his chin, lower his eyelids, say the words just right, and leave his lips parted just so.

“I’m worth it.”

“Fuuuck,” Reeder breathed. He stood up, tossing the plastic knife onto a shelf - it left a dark indent behind on Simon’s arm - and started to unbuckle his belt.

“Oral only,” Simon said quickly, more a plea than a demand.

“Oh, absolutely,” Reeder said with relish, “You’re a lot prettier up front than meth-mouth. On your knees.”

“Yes sir,” Simon responded, and Hahns whistled. Good. The better Simon was, the more he’d get in return. He positioned himself in front of Reeder.

“Good boy,” Reeder said, which sent a spike of paranoia through Simon. Could he have read Simon’s file? Would that even be in there? But he tamped it down, tamped everything down, into a cold flat nothingness inside of him. ‘Good boy’ was common. ‘Good boy’ meant nothing, except that Simon was doing a good job. He was a good boy.

Oral sex with Matthew had always been fun. Even when he was a vampire, Simon had been able to relax and just enjoy the experience of bringing pleasure to someone he loved. Because he did enjoy it, with Matthew. Human or not, Matthew had always allowed Simon to just be himself. No expectations. No judgment.

Performing oral sex on Reeder was just that: a performance. A performance Simon was good at. A performance he could set in motion and then… leave. He didn’t need to be there, not really. His head bobbed and his tongue swirled and he moaned quietly at the right moments but he wasn’t there. Instead Simon focused on his knees, the way they pressed painfully into the linoleum, the way his skin ground and pinched between bone and floor. Then his thighs, when they started to ache from the strain, long out of practice. He made the time pass easily this way, or at least easier than it would have. Then Reeder grabbed the back of his head and forced himself in deep, gushing into Simon’s throat and holding him there for a long moment as he groaned and cursed (“Dumb fucking slut,”). Simon couldn’t escape for that one. He had to be there, to feel the shame and regret start to bubble up out of his carefully maintained field of nothingness.

Hahns was next, and it was just a little bit harder, harder to perform perfectly, harder to focus elsewhere. Harder to keep going. Some deeply scarred little part of him was afraid it wouldn’t end, that there’d be someone else after Hahns, and someone else after that. (Tamp it down, tamp it down). Luckily, Hahns had been touching himself while watching Simon with Reeder and came quickly, and sloppily from less experience.

Cold, calculated, Simon seized the opportunity and let the come run down his chin. He blinked up at them with dewy eyelashes.

“Was I a good boy?” he asked softly. Perfectly. He wanted to vomit.

The two orderlies whooped and cursed and high-fived, ecstatic.

“Man, no wonder meth-mouth was keeping you to himself!” Reeder crowed. He threw a handful of paper napkins at Simon. “Clean yourself up, we’ll take you back to your room - your soon-to-be single room, am I right?”

Simon nodded mutely. Guilt washed over him as he wondered what exactly Chett had been doing to keep these two off his back.

As he was marched back through the halls, Simon remembered another favor he could ask.

“Can you get me a phone? A smartphone, just for a minute?” he asked quietly.

Reeder glanced up at a camera as they passed.

“Ask me again next time, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Simon nodded. He could do that again. Hell, he’d do it as many times as it took to get his hands on a smartphone. He didn’t know Matthew’s dad’s number, but he was confident that with his sleuthing skills and internet access he could find it, and call for help.

He knew the VIU building’s number too - but Gina had helped put him here, that’s what Kelly said. He couldn’t trust her, or any of the team.

And Christian had already made it clear: he would do nothing.

~~~

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Sunless Lives Part 24: I Will Not Go

~1320 words

CW: conservatorship, loss of rights, drugging

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~~~

M BECK: I’m just worried about my possessiveness. I don’t know how I’m going to treat him if I’m around him again. I don’t want to be controlling.

DR MANDAL: You’re using two different words here. Possessive and controlling. I think they’re a little different. Do you think both are true?

M BECK: I don’t know.

DR MANDAL: Let’s talk about possessiveness first. Do you want to possess Simon?

M BECK: Not really. Or, in a way. I guess I do want to but I know that that would be bad.

DR MANDAL: Why would it be bad?

M BECK: I don’t want to own him. That’s what the vampire wanted. That feels dehumanizing. But I do want him to be mine. But I want him to be his own person, too.

DR MANDAL: Matthew, I’m going to be honest, that sounds like a healthy level of desire for another person. You want him, but you still want him to be his own person. I think that’s normal.

M BECK: Oh.

DR MANDAL: Have you had many serious relationships before? Where you were as in love with someone else as you are with Simon?

M BECK: No.

DR MANDAL: So this level of desire is new for you.

M BECK: I guess.

DR MANDAL: Love can be scary.

[0:38]

DR MANDAL: Do you want to talk about feeling controlling now?

M BECK: Okay.

DR MANDAL: What makes you want to control Simon?

M BECK: I think he makes bad decisions sometimes. He has trouble taking care of himself.

DR MANDAL: What are some examples?

M BECK: Staying with the vampire. Or the way he lets Isles treat him.

DR MANDAL: Anything else?

M BECK: Um.

DR MANDAL: Those aren’t very many bad decisions. Can you think of some good decisions that he made, or times that he took care of himself?

M BECK: Yeah. Yeah. He knew that victim protection wouldn’t keep him safe, after Lara, and he was smart enough to tell Isles that. He’s always reading self-improvement stuff. He convinced me, um, the vampire, to get the cure. He opened up to me when he needed to after Finch. There were a couple times when we were dating too where he really clearly told me when something bothered him, and I appreciated that. Um. I know there’s more.

DR MANDAL: Sounds like he makes more good decisions than bad.

M BECK: Yeah. You’re right.

DR MANDAL: So if he makes good decisions and takes care of himself most of the time, maybe you can let go of that need to control.

M BECK: Oh.

DR MANDAL: Can you trust him to take care of himself?

M BECK: Yeah. I think I can. God, I can’t believe I called him an idiot. Do you think I’ll be able to call him soon?

~~~

Simon stepped out into the hallway of the clinic, blinking hard and gripping his coat tight. Amber and Christian were talking to each other in hushed tones that fell silent when they saw him.

“Ready to go?” Amber asked. Simon flinched a little at her loud voice, remembering her gun. Remembering that she’d almost shot Matthew. That she still might, if anything they did antagonized him.

Simon nodded quickly, not trusting his own voice.

“We’ll walk you out,” Christian said, smiling at him. It wasn’t comforting. They started walking through the clinic, back out the way they came in. They passed through the waiting room and came to the front doors.

“Put your coat on, it’s cold out.” Christian ordered.

Still a little dazed, Simon pulled on his coat and struggled with the zipper. 

“Let me.” Christian butted in and zipped it up for him. Simon opened his mouth to complain, but thought better of it.

“Listen.” Christian settled his hands on Simon’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You’ll only be at Fort Summerwhite until I get your list squared away. After that… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Okay?”

It was very much not okay, but Simon was too afraid of what Matthew might do if he put up a fuss. Of what Chris and Amber might do to Matthew in turn. So he nodded, and let Christian guide him by the arm through the doors, past the police officers standing guard and onto the sidewalk. There was a car waiting, a gray sedan. Christian opened the backseat door for him, and Simon got in, heart pounding. Two men sat in the front. A tall woman sat on the other side of the back seat, smiling at him.

“Hello there, you must be Simon! My name is Kelly, I work for Fort Summerwhite.”

Simon jumped when the door slammed shut. They were just putting him in a car, with strangers, to be driven off to God-knows-where.

This never ends well.

He could only barely see through the tinted windows as the car pulled away and Christian waved at him from the sidewalk. Kelly rambled on about Summerwhite’s amenities and how much he was going to love it there, but Simon couldn’t focus. He hadn't even found out exactly where Matthew was going. How would he know where to go, where to call? He needed to call Gina, and Matthew’s dad, and find out where they were too. 

Matthew had told him to go to Summerwhite, to get better, and Matthew was always right, but… Simon could get better on his own. He always had before. He knew how to take care of himself. He could do it, without being locked up by strangers.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said loudly, interrupting Kelly’s pitch. “I don’t want to go. If you could pull over and let me out, please.”

Kelly sucked in a breath, hesitating.

“Simon, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What? No, just pull over here, and…”

“Simon,” her voice was firm, “Do you know what a conservatorship is?”

He didn’t, but something about her change in tone froze him with dread.

“Your boss and friends were so very worried about you,” she continued, now condescendingly sweet, “And they felt like you couldn’t take care of yourself. So your boss, Cristian Isles, had a court place you under a conservatorship. It means you don’t have to worry about making any tough decisions for a while. You can just rest and be taken care of by everyone at Summerwhite.”

Simon still didn’t fully understand, but he knew it was something bad.

“No, no, I’m not consenting to treatment. I don’t want to be in this car anymore, you have to let me out or it’s kidnapping. Pull over.” His voice wavered with uncertainty.

“It’s actually not, Simon,” she said slowly, “Captain Isles is your conservator, and he has placed you in our custody, and we’re taking you to Fort Summerwhite for your own safety.”

“No, you can’t…” The car slowed at a red light, and Simon unbuckled his seatbelt and yanked on the door handle. It was locked.

“Let me out!” he shouted, searching for the lock, running his hands over the door to no avail.

“You need help, Kelly?” the man in the passenger seat asked.

“Let me out!” Simon leaned forward to yell at the driver.

“Yes, I think so,” Kelly frowned at Simon, “But be careful.”

“You can’t do this!” Simon insisted, “This is kidnapping, I don’t want to be here -”

The man in the passenger seat took something out of the glove box and as the car fully stopped at the light he got out and opened Simon’s door. Simon leapt at the chance and tried to jump out past the man into the street, but the man easily caught him around the waist.

“Help!” Simon screamed, shoving and clawing at the man, “Somebody help!”

But strong hands twisted his arm and slammed him against the side of the car, and a sharp sting in his neck made him cry out. His words fell apart into a jumble, then his thoughts, then his sight.

Then nothing.

~~~

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Sunless Lives Part 30: I Will Not Let You Do It Too

THE ARC 3 FINALE!

~ 3400 words - a double feature!

CW: Carewhumper, attempted noncon, noncon undressing, noncon touch, use of the word rape, foot whump, disbelief of a victim, negative self talk

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~~~

Where’s Matthew?

Matthew doesn’t want to be with you anymore.

Simon knew it was his own fault. He just knew it. He’d made the wrong decisions, over and over, just like Matthew said he did, and now he was ruined. Disgusting. Matthew was right to not want him anymore. Awash with sorrow and shame, Simon couldn’t even be happy that he was out of Summerwhite. He spent his first day in Christian’s house curled up in bed, weeping.

He didn’t have much time to cry after that; Christian took Simon everywhere with him. To the gym. To the grocery store. To work, where Simon was expected to sit next to him quietly and not offer his opinion on anything. Christian had a new researcher, after all - a whole new team. Gina and Devon were mysteriously gone, and no one would tell him why. Simon’s former co-workers throughout the rest of the building looked at him with pity, or not at all. Amber talked to him like he was a child.

Christian took him to therapy sessions after work, and sat next to him the whole time. Everyone thought Simon was lying when he said he hadn’t tried to kill himself - especially because he couldn’t remember what actually happened.

He had trouble remembering a lot of things, lately - especially now that Christian was supervising Simon’s incredibly high daily dose of antidepressants and antipsychotics that Dr Deckard had prescribed.

Simon knew the supposed suicide had something to do with Reeder. But they didn’t believe what he said about Reeder and Hahns, either.

The only time Simon got to be alone was at night, when he went to the room Christian was slowly but surely turning into his bedroom. Christian would see him to bed, then lock the door from the outside. Simon would lie there and cry, exhausted and alone.

Nothing in Christian’s house was helpful. He had no landline, and kept his cell phone on his person at all times. His computer was password protected, and moved into Christian’s bedroom pretty quickly. The doors and windows had an alarm system that was armed at nearly all times. 

The medicine cabinet had a lock on it, and Christian had replaced all the knives in the kitchen with plastic safety knives. Not that a knife or a cabinet of pills would be helpful to Simon - it was the lack of trust that bothered him.

He wouldn’t have had the chance to do anything, anyway; even at home, Christian expected Simon to be in the same room as him at all times. They watched TV together. He sat at the counter while Christian cooked. He sat on Christian’s bed while the captain answered emails on his computer. Christian would stand right outside when Simon used the bathroom or showered, and wouldn’t let him close the door all the way.

It was hell.

Especially because Christian was so utterly boring. Simon had almost forgotten what their initial relationship was like, after the hero-worship had worn off. Christian worked, and he played golf, and that was it. Simon’s time with Christian outside of work was either filled with silence or with dull conversation about work, or golf, or Simon’s therapy, how he was feeling, did you eat enough, do you want to watch a movie?

But Simon didn’t dare argue. Didn’t dare lash out. Even though there was an angry, screaming little animal clawing at his ribs, he knew that if he let it out, if he slammed the door when he wanted privacy, if he stood up and shouted superior tactical options at work, if he screamed at Christian that his golf shows were fucking boring, he’d be sent back to Fort Summerwhite.

Because Christian said so. Every little difficulty, every hiccup, and he’d rub the back of his neck and say “Maybe I made a mistake.” This would send Simon into bouts of pleading, but just the right kind of pleading, of course, not too hysterical, not too outraged - that would make everything worse. He had to beg logically, sensibly, promise that he wouldn’t lie again, wouldn’t argue again, wouldn’t be difficult or closed off or rude. And it was so hard, when his head was still fuzzy and painful sometimes. But he had to be perfect. To open up in therapy about the right things, but not the things that were dirty lies. To express his emotions, to cry a little but not too much. To enjoy his leisure time with Christian, to ooh and ah at the right moments of the golf game.

Maybe he’d rather go back to Fort Summerwhite. Maybe he’d rather be sucking dick.

Of course, it all fell apart eventually.

~~~

Christian waited just outside the half-closed bedroom door for Simon to change into his pajamas. When Simon opened the door all the way he stepped inside and sat on Simon’s bed - a real bed that he’d bought soon after Simon had moved in. He even had a bedside table with a nice lamp and an alarm clock. Simon folded his arms, then unfolded them, worried about looking hostile. He waited for the usual evening rigamarole. How are you feeling now compared to this morning. Is your stomach okay. Do you want any melatonin.

Instead, Christian patted the bed next to him. Simon sat obediently.

“Simon, I…” Chris lifted a hand. It hung in the air for an uncertain moment, then settled on Simon’s knee. The touch sent a pleasurable shiver up Simon’s spine. Christian had been so careful over the past three weeks to never touch Simon, especially in any way that could be… misinterpreted. Simon had mirrored this behavior to a tee, leaving himself lonely and touch starved. But he never dared to ask for physical affection - he didn’t want Christian to think he was trying to seduce him, as he had before.

“You know I… I want to do right by you.”

“Mhm.” Simon nodded, unsure where this was going. Was he about to have some restriction lifted? Or more piled upon him? Or worse - was he about to be sent back to Fort Summerwhite?

“I’ve tried to be an… impartial caretaker to you. To fill a role… of something like a parent. But that’s not a role that I think I can… confine myself to.”

His hand slid up Simon’s thigh.

Oh.

I can use this, Simon thought confidently - maybe a little desperately. It would be just like the orderlies, only easier; Christian had never demanded sex from him before. They would kiss, and touch, and go to bed separately, and then maybe tomorrow Simon could get something he wanted.

And it wasn’t like he was betraying Matthew anymore.

Simon leaned forward and tilted his face up, letting Christian kiss him. Stubble brushed against his skin, and Christian’s tongue pushed between his lips.

Easy. This is easy.

Chris laid him down and climbed on top of him, still kissing him gently, persistently.

Okay. Perfect. We’ll make out for ten minutes and then he’ll get all guilty and leave. Then maybe I can shower with the door closed tomorrow. Easy.

Simon twined one hand into Christian’s hair and rested the other on his chest. Christian held himself up on his left arm, and slid the other under Simon’s shirt.

This isn’t fair.

Simon winced at the intrusive thought.

This isn’t fair to Chris. You shouldn’t use him like this.

Don’t prove yourself a liar.

Simon shifted both hands to press on Christian’s chest. Chris didn’t budge. Simon jerked his head to the side to escape Christian’s heavy kiss.

“Chris- mm!”

Christian quickly shifted and pressed his mouth over Simon’s again, preventing him from speaking. Simon’s pulse picked up speed, and he tried again when Christian paused to adjust his position.

“Chris, stop -”

But Christian was already back on him with a harsh, silencing kiss. The hand under Simon’s shirt slid down and began to pull at his pajama pants. The stretchy fabric moved easily and a bolt of panic surged through Simon. He rapidly tapped Christian’s chest and the captain finally shifted back onto all fours over Simon, breathing heavily, leaving the pants bunched dangerously low around Simon’s hips.

“Chris, I don’t want to have sex, I don’t want to have sex with you,” Simon babbled.

Christian seized the sides of Simon’s head and crashed their lips together, mumbling into Simon’s mouth.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, please just do this for me, I’ve been waiting three fucking years, Simon.”

He moved back, allowing Simon to suck in panicky breaths while he pulled Simon’s pants down around his knees, exposing him. Simon sat up and shoved at him uselessly.

“Stop it!”

Christian held him down with a hand on his chest while the other pushed and grabbed between Simon’s legs.

“Come on,” he said breathily, “You owe me this.”

Simon loved Christian. He really did. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this had never happened, not with Christian before, not with Matthew, not with Matthew as a vampire, not even with the clients; any resistance on Simon’s part with them was a requested performance. And he didn’t care about them, it wasn’t a betrayal when they fucked him.

There was only one other person that Simon had loved, truly loved, who had also pinned him down and stripped him and fucked him.

Rape, whispered the animal in his chest.

That’s what it all was.

Matthew said so.

And so is this.

(Matthew is always right.)

(Matthew is the only one who never…)

Christian was back on him, suffocating him, scraping Simon’s face with his stubble. Simon reached out to the side wildly, his wrist cracking hard against the bedside table.

Then he felt it.

The heavy ceramic base of the lamp.

He’d only get one shot at this.

He heaved the lamp up and smashed it over Christian’s head. Ceramic shards rained down, and Christian let out a cry and slumped to the side. Simon wiggled desperately out from underneath his weight and fell to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, pulling up his pants. He sucked in a deep breath, and screamed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He’d been holding onto those words for a while.

Christian groaned, and started to move.

Fuck.

Simon turned and sprinted out of the bedroom, his bare feet thumping against the floor, through the small house to the front door. He jiggled the doorknob frantically, but it didn’t budge. Locked. He backed away, chest heaving.

Fuck.

Then he spotted Christian’s golf bag, and the picture window looking out onto the front porch, and put two and two together. He reached into the cluster of club heads with shaking hands and pulled out the heaviest, the lob wedge, and he hated and was grateful that he knew that. He climbed up onto the couch under the window, and prepared to swing.

“Simonnn…” Christian groaned from somewhere in the house.

Fuck.

Simon adjusted his sweaty hands and swung, just like he saw the professionals on TV do. It hit the window with a thunk and a thick spider web of cracks burst out  from the impact point, but it didn’t break. The alarm system started beeping loudly throughout the house. 

“Simon!” Closer now. And angry.

FUCK.

Simon swung again with everything that he had and the window shattered. He dropped the club onto the couch and leapt through the empty frame, and his feet landed hard on the broken glass scattered across the porch. He didn’t register the pain. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t look back. Every fiber of his being was propelling him away, away, away, as he sprinted off the porch, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. 

Simon ran.

He ran in and out of the pools of light underneath the streetlamps, he passed perfect little house after perfect little house, until he reached where the homey neighborhood butted up against the man drag. His momentum carried him out into the street, into the dark, in front of headlights that honked and swerved as he crossed the multi-lane road. He didn’t hear them; he could only hear his own pulse and ragged breath. He made it to the other side and kept running, into taller and denser buildings now, more brick and concrete than wood and panel.

He hadn’t run, not properly, in a long time. He used to nearly every day, back in the VIU’s basement, on his treadmill. The memories felt far away, and he could feel the lack of practice in his body. Every impact of his feet against the sidewalk sent spikes of pain up his shins, but he didn’t care. His lungs burned and heaved, but he didn’t care. He ran past restaurants with sidewalk seating and the late-night diners barely glanced at him - what was another runner in the city?

He kept running.

He kept running.

He kept running.

He kept running until he felt like he was going to die. Building after building, block after block. Dodging evening dog-walkers and crossing streets without a care for cars.

Then, someone was looking at him.

A Black woman in a leather jacket, smoking a cigarette in the light of an open door behind her. She watched Simon approach along the sidewalk, growing concern on her face as she looked him up and down, noticed he was in pajamas rather than running gear, noticed the distress on his face, noticed his bare feet.

“You alright?” she called out.

Simon noticed her too, noticed her shaved head and her carabiner of keys and the colorful flag flapping above her.

“Please help!” he gasped.

She stepped to the side and spread her arms, directing him into the lit doorway. Simon ran in, his feet slapping wetly on linoleum, and fell to his hands and knees, gagging and dry heaving. He heard the door close and a heavy metal lock shunt into place. His arms and legs shuddered and he collapsed completely on his side, hands and feet twitching. He couldn’t get enough air, no matter how hard he breathed.

“Easy, take it easy - I need some help out here!”

Simon felt hands lift his head and slide soft folded leather underneath it. It smelled like cigarettes and honeysuckle.

“Holy shit.”

“Nora, who is that?”

Voices and footsteps approached while Simon heaved on the floor helplessly. What if they sent him back.

“Fran, can you check him out? Jacob, can you bring him some water? I think he ran a long way.”

“Is someone after him?”

“Gotta be, I’ll watch the door.”

A woman with a pixie cut and overalls crouched in front of Simon, filling his vision.

“Hi there,” she said softly, “My name is Fran, I’m an EMT, can you tell me your name?”

Simon used every ounce of strength he had to shake his head, still gasping for air.

“That’s okay. Just take deep breaths, okay? I’m going to look at your feet.”

She moved out of his sight, and now Simon could see two figures that had been standing behind her. Looking at him. Gawking. He flinched when a hand wrapped around his ankle and lifted his foot, turning it this way and that. The soles spiked and pulsed with pain.

“How long were you running for?”

“I don’t know,” he breathed. He turned his face into the folded jacket and brought up an arm to shelter his head, hiding from the staring eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can we take you to an ER?”

“No!” he whimpered, “No, please don’t!”

“Okay, guys?” It was the strong voice of the first woman - Nora. “Don’t just stand there and stare. We’re gonna need to wash his feet, right?”

“Yeah,” said Fran.

“Okay. Ollie, the tubs we use for tie-dye are upstairs, you know where -? Yeah. Thanks.”

“I got water!” A deeper voice.

“Great - okay, can you sit up?” Simon felt a hand settle on his shoulder. His breath was still quick and panicky, and his lungs still burned, but he didn’t feel like he was drowning anymore. He pressed a shaking hand into the ground and pushed, and with the help of multiple hands on his shoulders and back he sat upright.

Through his tears he saw Fran still looking at his feet, while Nora and an older round man with a pale face - Jacob, most likely - sat on either side of him. He was in the entryway of an old building, with doors on either side of him. He sensed an opening behind him as well. Between where he lay and the large wooden door to the street was a set of bloody footprints on the linoleum tile.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry -”

“It’s okay,” Nora said firmly, “You’re okay.”

Jacob unscrewed the cap from a plastic water bottle and handed it to him. Seeing it made Simon’s throat scream for moisture and he grabbed it and started chugging.

“Woah there,” Jacob warned, “Don’t make yourself sick.”

Simon lowered the bottle with a gasp.

“M’really sorry,” he said again, “I didn’t mean to barge in, I just…”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Nora rubbed his back, “We were just wrapping up.”

Fran was no longer looking at his feet, but at his face, with professionally concealed concern.

“You’re not on anything.” It was more a statement than a question. Simon knew she was referring to recreational drugs, not his psychiatric medication, so he shook his head.

“What happened that made you run so far?” she asked.

Simon shook his head faster, his lip trembling.

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

“I don’t know,” Simon sobbed.

Fran looked at Jacob.

“Can he…?”

Jacob nodded immediately.

“He can stay here for tonight. That’s what we're here for.”

“We got the tubs!” called a voice from behind Simon.

“Great - there’s a folding wheelchair in the closet there, can you get it out?”

Simon couldn’t keep track of all the people, and what was happening anymore. He was lifted into a wheelchair and brought further into the building, into a half-size gymnasium. There was a circle of chairs in the middle and a table with coffee and an empty donut box off to the side. His bloody feet were lowered into a tub of cool water, making him hiss and flinch. Fran crouched next to him.

“I’m going to let you soak for a while, then we’ll get all the grit out. You up for that?”

Simon had no other choice. He nodded.

She held up a cordless landline phone and a business card.

“We’re gonna give you some privacy, you can call whoever you like.”

She handed the phone and business card to him and stood.

“I’ll be back in fifteen, okay?”

Simon didn’t have the energy to respond. He just stared down into the rippling water and the pink ribbons drifting away from his feet.

Once he was alone in the large room, he read the business card: The Cambert Building, an LGBTQ community center. He looked up and around, at the motivational posters on the walls, and the cork boards overflowing with flyers.

Then he looked at the phone.

He didn’t know Matthew's number anymore. Matthew’s original phone and his burner phone were both long gone. He knew the VIU’s number, but there was no one he trusted there. They’d all helped send him to Summerwhite. He obviously couldn’t call Chris.

There were only two other numbers he did know.

One he’d heard a thousand times as she chatted on the phone with potential clients.

If you’re interested in booking him you can call me back at -

Simon punched in the number, the mechanical beeps echoing throughout the room, and held his breath.

“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is not in service at this time. Please hang up and try again.”

Simon sobbed, hanging up.

The other number was from a long, long time ago. A treasured scrap of memory.

You remember my cell, amorzinho? Repeat it back to me.

Simon pressed the buttons hard, tears running down his face.

“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is not in service at this time. Please hang up and try again.”

He tried the first one again.

The second one again.

The first.

The second.

He spent the next fifteen minutes calling dead women.

~~~

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Sunless Lives Part 23: I Will Get You Out

~1820 words

CW: offscreen suicide attempt by main character (SEE THIS NOTE for spoilery context if you need it!), forced institutionalization, abuse of power, conservatorship

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~~~

[Record transcript start]

DR MANDAL: [Sic] introduced ourselves, there are some questions I’m required to ask by the VIU.

M BECK: Okay.

DR MANDAL: What prompted you to voluntarily seek out the cure?

[0:46]

DR MANDAL: Is this a difficult question for you?

M BECK: Yeah.

DR MANDAL: In what way?

M BECK: Um.

[0:32]

DR MANDAL: Have you ever done talk therapy before?

M BECK: Yeah, there was a, a victim that we lost before EMTs could arrive. It was bad. I went to a couple counseling sessions after that.

DR MANDAL: This was during your job as a VIU field agent?

M BECK: Yes.

DR MANDAL: Was the counseling helpful?

M BECK: I think so.

DR MANDAL: How was it helpful?

M BECK: She told me a bunch of stuff to do. Like breathing exercises and stuff. I didn’t have to talk much.

DR MANDAL: I see. When you try to answer my question, what trouble are you running into?

M BECK: There’s just so much. I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to explain it all.

DR MANDAL: Would you like to try letting go of the need to be organized?

M BECK: What would that mean?

DR MANDAL: Say what you’re thinking, without worrying whether it will make sense to me.

M BECK: Okay. What was the question again?

DR MANDAL: What prompted you to voluntarily seek out the cure?

M BECK: Simon. He told me to. He made me scared that I would kill him.

DR MANDAL: Scared?

M BECK: I know, right? Vampires aren’t supposed to get scared, ever. But I don’t know what else to call it.

DR MANDAL: I’ve observed something with my other patients, and this might not ring true for you, but let’s see what you think. Often people conceptualize vampires as having no emotion, but the reality seems to be that they instead have a different emotional spectrum. You, as a human now, are trying to put labels from your emotional spectrum onto the experiences you had as a vampire, because they are the only labels you have. What do you think?

M BECK: That, that makes sense. Yeah. Because I definitely felt things. Did your other patients feel things?

DR MANDAL: Yes.

M BECK: Okay. Yeah, that’s. I thought I might be different, for a while, that there was something wrong with me.

DR MANDAL: When did you think that?

M BECK: When I was a vampire. Just every once in a while. I would feel something close to guilt, but not guilt, sometimes, when Simon was hurting. And it felt weird.

DR MANDAL: Can you tell me more about the feelings you had about Simon when you were a vampire?

M BECK: Oh. I don’t know. I don’t know.

~~~

Matthew never got his phone call.

Fontaine Fields was decorated for Easter when he got out.

The winter clothes that he’d worn into the clinic hung a little baggy on him; he’d lost a lot of muscle mass after four months of limited access to Fontaine’s under-equipped gym. He clutched his heavy winter coat in his arms as Bev led him through the building. His heart thrummed with anxiety. Two weeks ago, when he received his release date, he’d given the office a list of people to notify. They should know. Someone should be waiting for him. Someone would be there.

If not, there was always the bus.

He and Dr Mandal had talked about this - how he was expecting everyone to hate him, for what he’d done.  He was expecting to be shunned by all his former loved ones, and that just wasn’t realistic. People cared about him. They did.

He at least hoped his dad was there.

Bev opened the front doors for him and the painfully bright sunlight forced him to shut his eyes. He took a tentative step out, feeling the stone step with his feet.

“I’ll wait right here until you get into a car or the bus, alright?” came Bev’s deep comforting tones next to him.

“A car? There’s a car?”

“Yup. People too.”

Matthew pried his eyes open and blinked frantically. He made out three figures standing at the edge of the gravel parking lot, next to two cars.

“Matthew!” A familiar shout, from a voice with years of experience calling that name.

“DAD!” Matthew nearly fell down the steps as Scott Beck, bad knee and all, raced over and caught him up in the tightest hug he’d felt in months. Matthew clutched him, weeping openly, his coat dropped and forgotten on the ground.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you now,” Scot soothed him.

“I’m so sorry, dad, I’m so sorry!” Matthew cried.

Scott stroked his son’s hair and murmured gentle words to him. They stayed like that for a good long while as Matthew cried it out. When he was finally convinced this was real and not some wonderful dream he was having back in his tiny room, Matthew took a step back, still holding his dad by the shoulders.

“Dad, I want to explain -”

“Gina told me everything.” Scott pressed a hand to Matthew’s chest. “You were trying to save someone’s life. I know it didn’t work out the way you wanted, but I’m proud of you for trying so hard.”

Matthew sobbed and just looked at his dad, flooded with relief. Scott was tall, and had been of a similar build to Matthew once upon a time, but age had moved much of his mass from his muscles to his gut. He had a few new gray hairs on his thinning head since the last time Matthew saw him, and some new worry lines as well. But he looked back at Matthew with nothing but love and relief at seeing his son safe and healthy.

“C’mon.” He picked up Matthew’s coat in one hand and wrapped the other arm around Matthew’s shoulders. “Let’s go say hi to her and your other friend.”

As they walked over Matthew refocused on the other two people standing by the cars, wiping a sleeve across his face. One was Gina, naturally, but the other was Devon Barre, which struck Matthew as a little odd. He’d never been close with Devon. He had casual friends outside of work that he would think were more likely to show up to his release than Devon, and he hadn’t even notified them.

Simon wasn't there, of course. Matthew could understand that.

“Hey, man.” Gina gave him a quick smile and hug, but something was wrong. Sure, Gina was a reserved person, but not this reserved. Not with Matthew.

“Matthew.” Devon shook his hand. “Glad to have you back.”

Matthew knew asking Why are you here? would be rude, so he turned his attention to Gina’s lackluster greeting.

“Everything okay?”

“No,” was her immediate response, her eyes dark and serious, “I really hate to do this right as you get out, but… Can we talk to you about Simon?”

“What about him?” Matthew kept his expression schooled, even as he felt a spike of dread pierce his gut.

“He’s stuck, at Summerwhite. Isles won’t let him leave.”

“Isles? How-?”

“It’s a long story. After you took Simon, we started tracking you. We were trying to figure out how to get Simon away from you and keep him away. We put a plant at Simon’s job, to try and befriend him, but it just spooked him, and proved to us that he wouldn’t leave you willingly.”

Matthew remembered the man at Simon’s job that he would always complain about. The nosey guy. The chivalrous guy. Matthew had been planning on killing him if he didn’t stop bothering Simon. He shivered.

“What did Isles do?”

Gina took a breath, her face bitter.

“He didn’t believe a 72 hour psych hold would be enough to decondition Simon. So he compiled all the evidence we’d collected and filed to have Simon declared incompetent and placed in a conservatorship. Under his custody.”

“... Incompetent?” Matthew breathed.

“He claimed Simon was suicidal, that he’d talked to Simon before he left with you and he said he wanted you to kill him.”

“No,” Matthew shook his head emphatically, “Simon wasn’t suicidal, or incompetent.”

“I didn’t think so either. I argued against the idea.” Her mouth twisted. “He fired me and did it anyway.” She glanced at Devon. “I thought I could rely on Amber to keep me posted, but… Devon was the one who actually stepped up.”

“Our plan at that point was extraction,” Devon picked up the story, “But then the cure came out, and you two walked right into a clinic. Amber and I thought that was it, that Isles would release the conservatorship, but on the way to the airport we were talking and he said he wouldn’t. He wanted to make sure Simon stayed away from you, that’s what he said. I challenged him on it, and he fired me too. Amber’s the only one he has left.”

“So Simon can’t…” Gears were spinning wildly in Matthew’s head, desperate to keep up.

“Simon can’t do anything,” Gina snapped, “He can’t make his own medical decisions, he can’t pick who gets to visit him, he can’t check himself out of Summerwhite even if the doctors clear him. All his decisions get made by Isles.”

“What do we do?” Matthew demanded.

“We have a plan,” Devon said slowly, “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Isles got him into this, and we think Isles is the only one who can get him back out.”

“Why would he change his mind?”

“Because Simon tried to…” Gina hesitated, watching Matthew carefully, “Take his own life. A couple weeks ago.”

The sun was too hot. The parking lot felt like it was spinning.

Your fault. Your fault.

Matthew felt his dad grab his hand and shoulder again.

“Easy there, Matty. Take a deep breath.”

Matthew forced air in and out of his lungs.

“What happened?” he rasped.

“We don’t know,” Gina said, “I only found out because Isles actually called me for advice. The fucking nerve! But he’s scared now, scared that he made the wrong decision. I think he might help us get Simon back, with a little convincing.”

“But is Simon okay?” Matthew didn’t care about Isles at the moment.

“We don’t know,” Gina repeated, “Isles won’t tell us, or let us visit him. So we just don’t know.”

All this information left Matthew reeling. Simon had been alone, with no one but Isles to visit him, for four months. Locked up, imprisoned, for four months - and not even allowed the hope of leaving. Matthew had barely been able to handle the same situation, and he had known he would be released eventually. How could Simon cope with that?

Matthew knew the answer already. Simon hadn’t coped.

“Where is Isles?”

~~~

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Sunless Lives Part 22: I Will Hear From You Soon

A slow, melancholy chapter.

~1630 words

CW: medical setting, forced institutionalization

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~~~

There was blood on his hand.

Matthew realized it suddenly. Had it been there the whole time? He flinched at the memory: he’d bitten Simon’s hand. Then Simon had held his hand when he was… not scared, vampires didn’t feel fear. But it was something, something that spurred him to reach out to Simon for comfort in his last moments of vampirism.

Now there was a red smear across his palm, already dark as it dried and oxidized. It stood out against his pale skin like a burn. Like a curse.

He really wanted to lick it.

He jumped up and ran to the sink, turned on a torrent of hot water and pumped out a flood of soap from the dispenser. He kept scrubbing his hands together long after the mark was gone. When his skin was red and raw he finally shut off the water, and patted his hands dry on his sunflower-patterned hospital gown. He realized Simon had never made a single comment about how silly he must look. For someone who wore the same thing every day like a cartoon character, Simon could be remarkably opinionated about fashion. Or at least, he used to be. Had he made a comment about the vampire’s appearance, and been shut down? Matthew didn’t want to delve into his memories to check. He didn’t want to think about any of it, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to go to ‘rehabilitation,’ didn’t want to be alone.

He sank down to crouch on the floor and sobbed as he realized he wanted his dad.

He wanted to go home, not to his nice apartment outside DC or to his and Simon’s Boston studio but to the little Baltimore house on the corner with the basketball hoop and the blue door and the upright piano and his childhood bedroom and the twin bed that was definitely too small for him now.

He hadn’t seen his dad in four months. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to go through with his plan if he said goodbye to his dad in person, so their last contact was a cryptic voice message that Matthew had left him at 2 AM on a hot August night before meeting up with a vampire who promised to turn him for cash. He’d never bothered to check his messages when he got his smartphone back from Gina, just retrieved the information he’d needed and chucked it.

A knock on the door startled him out of his spiral. He stood too quickly, causing a wave of nausea and lightheadedness. He grabbed the counter to steady himself.

“Come in.” His voice was hoarse.

Tammy entered, and didn’t react at all to his disheveled, red-eyed state. She carried a stack of gray clothing, which she set on one of the chairs. Simon’s chair.

“I’m going to give you a quick physical, then you can get dressed in these and a shuttle will take you to Philadelphia. They’re nice and comfy for the long ride.”

Matthew looked around, suddenly aware that his own clothes were nowhere to be seen. Isles had sat in the chair Matthew remembered putting them on. Only his winter boots remained, tucked under the chair. Anticipating his concern, Tammy provided an explanation.

“Your personal things have been collected and logged and will be returned to you when you leave rehabilitation.”

“How long?” Matthew asked, “How long will rehab take?”

“We’ve only been doing this for a couple weeks,” Tammy said, sounding like she’d said this a lot, but still maintaining a professional level of kindness. “We don’t know how long it will take, but we do know it will be different for every individual.”

“Is there somewhere I can call my dad?” Matthew’s voice cracked.

Tammy’s lips pressed together.

“I’m very sorry, but VIU regulations prevent us from letting you have any contact with anyone outside the system from this point forward.”

“Seriously?” Matthew felt anger flare in his chest. “Just a five minute phone call, surely -”

“I know it’s hard,” Tammy raised a calming hand, “But you should know that he’s been notified that you’re here, and that you’re safe. And with all likelihood you’ll have contact with your loved ones at a later time during your rehabilitation. Okay?”

It was not okay, but Matthew was too exhausted to argue any further.

He cooperated with the physical: sitting down, breathing deep, looking into the light, lying down, relaxing his stomach. The routine normalcy of it, even Tammy’s professionalism, felt strange. Shouldn’t she be scared of him? Shouldn’t he be locked up? Tammy announced he had passed with flying colors and earnestly wished him well, and shortly after that Officer Thomas was escorting him through the morning snow flurries into a long Ford transit van. This felt more in line with what he expected. Thomas closed the van door and slapped the side without saying goodbye, and Matthew had to scramble to a seat as the vehicle started moving. The driver was separated from the back by a metal grate, and Matthew briefly caught her cold stare in the rearview. There was one other passenger: a middle-aged woman with gray sweats that matched Matthew’s. She stared out the window, her cheeks damp and her eyes glazed.

Matthew took the opposite window seat, and watched the world pass by as they drove further and further away from Simon.

Only a little while.

Only a little while.

~~~

He didn’t learn the name of the facility where he’d be staying until they were pulling up to it, over five hours later: Fontaine Fields, read a decrepit sign. BLOODSUCKERS! was spray painted over it in dripping red paint. The building itself looked two steps away from abandoned; it was a massive early 20th-century brick and concrete structure, with a towering main building in the center and two shorter wings on either side. Ivy had overtaken the left wing, and as it was leafless in the winter it looked like gnarled gray hands were clawing up the walls. 

The inside, Matthew had to admit, was much more welcoming. It was clean and bright, and smelled of fresh paint. The thick glass around the receptionist’s desk had paper snowflakes and Christmas cards taped to it. The receptionist herself wore a Santa hat, and smiled at them as she instructed them to trade in their winter boots for flat gray slippers which were - like their gray sweats - surprisingly cozy. Then Matthew and his van companion were guided by orderlies into the right wing - the east wing, they were told - up a wide creaking wooden staircase, through a heavy modern door one orderly had to open with a swipe card, and into a door-lined hallway. They were each led into a small room with four single beds, and little else. Once inside Matthew was told to knock if he needed the bathroom, and that he’d be collected for dinner at five. A little clock bolted high on the wall read 2:09. Starving at this point, Matthew had to speak up.

“Actually, I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since last night. It was a long drive here, I came from Boston, I…”

To his surprise, the orderly actually stopped and listened to him, nodding understandingly. He was a broad man, a little bigger than Matthew, probably in his forties.

“Of course, I’ll see what I can do.”

Ten minutes later the orderly observed as Matthew wolfed down a sandwich on a paper plate and chugged a water bottle, sitting on the edge of one of the beds.

“Thank you,” Matthew said for perhaps the tenth time as the orderly collected his trash.

“No problem,” the orderly replied, folding up the paper plate, “My name’s Bev, by the way.”

Matthew flushed, embarrassed that he’d forgotten basic social skills in his hunger.

“Sorry, I - I’m Matthew.”

“Matthew.” Bev looked at him with the steady gaze of someone experienced in his field. “You should know, everyone here wants you to be well. We’re here to take care of you, and get you back out there so that you can live your life. So always tell us when you need something, alright?”

“When can I access a phone?” Matthew asked quickly. Bev sighed.

“We’re working on that. The VIU thinks no news is good news, and if no one can talk then there’s no stories to tell. But we’re wearing them down.” He smiled, a hint of mischief in his eye.

“I just -” Matthew’s throat grew tight, “I really need to call my dad -”

He was fully sobbing before he could stop it. The weight of the day had finally broken him. He wanted his dad. He wanted Simon. He wanted Gina. He didn’t want to be trapped, alone in this place.

Bev stood quietly, letting Matthew cry it out with a sliver of dignity. He waited until Matthew’s breathing leveled out a bit to speak again.

“I promise you, the people here are good. Everyone’s here because they think this work is important, that you’re important. We will get you back to your people, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Matthew sniffled, “Thank you.”

After Bev left, locking the door behind him, Matthew laid down on the bed and stared at the freshly-white ceiling. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d get to talk to everyone soon - his dad, Gina, Simon.

Simon… Matthew shouldn’t have blown up at him like that. God, I called him an idiot, how…? He needed to apologize properly. Surely Simon would be allowed phone access at - what was it? - Fort Summerwhite. Yes, the VIU would get this stick out of their ass eventually and Matthew would spend every minute he could on the phone with the people he loved.

He’d hear Simon’s voice again soon.

~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Arc 3 contains themes of forced institutionalization, medical abuse, psychiatric abuse, and suicide. Because these are such common squicks and triggers amongst the whump community, I will be providing a surface-level summary of what happens chapter-by-chapter for anyone who needs to skip parts or the whole arc.

This post will be edited to add the summary of each part as I publish them, and I will reblog the updated version after each Sunless Lives post.

Take care!

Summary below the cut.

Part 21: I Will Get Better - Matthew wakes up, cured of his vampirism. He is at first mad at Simon for staying with him while he was a vampire, and they argue before coming to an understanding. Captain Isles and Amber show up. They want to send Simon to a psychiatric facility. Simon doesn’t want to go, but agrees when Amber implicitly threatens Matthew. Simon leaves with Isles and Amber.

Part 22: I Will Hear From You Soon - Matthew is alone at the clinic. He misses his dad. He goes through a physical, and asks how long vampire rehab will take. They don’t know. He is taken in a van to Fontain Fields. It’s surprisingly nice inside. A kind orderly gives him a pep talk.

Part 23: I Will Get You Out - In a therapy session transcript, Dr Mandal asks Matthew questions about the emotions he experienced as a vampire. Back in the present, Matthew gets out of Fontaine Fields around Easter. He reunites with his dad. Gina and Devon are there, and inform him that Isles has placed Simon under a conservatorship, and that Simon has attempted suicide.

Part 24: I Will Not Go - In a therapy session transcript, Matthew worries about being possessive and controlling when he’s around Simon again. Dr Mandal suggests that the possessiveness is a natural level of love and desire, and that Simon is competent enough that Matthew can let go of the need to control. Now we jump back to follow Simon right after he left Matthew. Isles and Amber put him in a car. Simon realizes he doesn’t want to go, but the woman in the car informs him that he’s under a conservatorship and doesn’t have a choice. Simon attempts to escape, but is drugged.

Part 25: I Will Wait - In a therapy session transcript, Matthew struggles with some self-hatred. Simon arrives at Fort Summerwhite, half-conscious from drugs. The intake process is violating and humiliating. He is pushed up against a wall by an orderly. A nurse is hostile to him. He meets Chett, a scary patient.

Part 26: I Will Make You Better - In a therapy session transcript, Dr Mandal suggests that Matthew consider his own health and safety, not just Simon’s. Simon has a session with Dr Deckard. Dr Deckard does not believe that Simon is not suicidal, asks invasive questions, and drives Simon into a panic attack. Simon learns Isles told the doctor personal details about Simon. Simon’s only comfort is that when he leaves the session, Chett is there - not so scary after all.

Part 27: I Will Be A Good Boy - In a therapy session transcript, Matthew talks about an altercation he had with another patient because he misheard the man��s name as Bowers. In another session with Dr Deckard, Simon has grown numb. Dr Deckard believes he is irrational, and threatens him with solitary. When he gets out of the session he is alone; Chett has been released, but not before warning Simon that he’d been keeping Simon safe, and Simon should be careful now. Soon after Simon is spooked by Reeder, the redheaded orderly, and he uses Simon’s reaction as an excuse to drag him away to a storage closet, along with another orderly, Hans. They proposition Simon for oral sex in exchange for favors, with no option of refusal. Simon makes a deal with them to get his own room and to stop being medicated. Afterwards, Simon asks them for a smartphone, thinking he can use it to find Matthew’s dad’s number. Reeder says he’ll see what he can do.

Part 28: I Will Not Bend - In a therapy session transcript, Matthew decides his attraction to Simon has nothing to do with the preybonding. Isles visits Simon, and is useless. The next time Reeder pulls Simon into the storage closet, Reeder demands sex. Simon tries to get away, but Reeder throws him down and his head hits a shelf, nearly killing him. To make it look like a suicide, Reeder force-feeds Simon pills and leaves him there.

Part 29: I Will Take You Home - Matthew confronts Isles about Simon. Isles surprisingly agrees to take Matthew to see him. They go to Fort Summerwhite. Dr Deckard complains that Simon shouldn’t see Matthew. Isles overrules. Matthew finally sees Simon, and he looks okay, but is heavily sedated and his hair has been shaved in order to treat his head injury. Simon apologizes to Matthew for cheating on him, and Matthew demands to know what he’s talking about. Dr Deckard tells them that Simon lies constantly. Matthew convinces Isles to take Simon home. They take Simon to Isles’ house, but once there Isles has a change of heart and kicks Matthew out, threatening to have him arrested.

Part 30: I Will Not Let You Do It Too - Isles tells Simon that Matthew doesn’t want him anymore. Simon is devastated. Isles takes Simon everywhere with him, and generally treats him like a child and a danger to himself. Simon knows he didn’t attempt suicide, even though that’s what everyone says, but he doesn’t remember exactly what DID happen. No one will believe him about the sexual abuse, either. After three weeks of living with Isles, Isles comes on to Simon. Simon goes along with it, thinking it will just be kissing, but Isles escalates and doesn’t stop when Simon asks him to. Simon smashes a lamp over Isles’ head and escapes the house. He runs through the city, eventually spotting/being spotted by a woman who directs him into an LGBT community center. The people there take care of him before leaving him alone with a phone. With no one to call, Simon dials Lara’s old number, then his mom’s, getting the disconnected message each time.

[whump-card]

A spoilery note about the suicide content warning for the third arc of Sunless Lives.

There is no suicide. No character contemplates, attempts, or commits suicide. HOWEVER, there is a murder attempt that is framed as a suicide and some of the ways it is portrayed and discussed may still be uncomfortable for some readers. Take care!