071 – 三猿

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“Rise and shine, Wendy.”

I opened my eyes.

White.

Blinding.

A bodily reaction. I twitched.

Instinct. I drew away, retreating.

A fading dream.

Only had the broad strokes, even then, they were being erased. A room. Chairs, strewn about. Limbs, too. Chaos there.

Black and white checkered pattern.

Eyes.

So many of them. Appearing in every square. Watching, observing.

Not a dream, a nightmare.

The gazes make my skin crawl.

Couldn’t find comfort in sleep, yet it hurt to face the light.

No choice.

I tried opening my eyes again. I took my time with it, going slow, letting myself adjust to the light, little by little.

I didn’t have the energy or will to rush myself.

The light gave way to details, and I was able to start piecing together where I was, what I was looking at, and the general state of things around me.

Drapes, pulled away from the window, the main source of all the light. As I adjusted, other stuff starting coming into view, more clear. The ceiling, blue with gold highlights, the lines coiling and winding like vines. There was an ambiance to it, as what I assumed was the morning hours bouncing off the colors, giving a soft, warm glow.

It was all so relaxing.

I moved my head. Stiff. I hadn’t stretched or used my muscles in some time, apparently. I put for effort into my fingers and toes, arms and legs, and found that it was tense there, too.

Brushed against heavy blankets. Warm, and somewhat wet. A certain fear began to manifest, until I realized that I had just been sweating.

I pushed myself, and the blankets off my body. I felt how fabric stuck to my skin, how my hair felt damp against my forehead. I pulled my arms free, using them to sit up on the bed.

Bed.

Wasn’t my bed.

Where exactly was I?

“Took you long enough.”

Feeling an itch in my eye, I rubbed at it, but with the other, I searched for the owner of the voice.

Lawrence.

Accompanied by D, sitting at either side of the foot of my bed. If I was groggy from too much rest, then Lawrence was groggy from too little. Bags under his eyes, color gone from his face. His hair, usually neat and combed, was clumped together and standing in some places, as he meant to spike it up. He wore a soft, padded brace around his neck. He was sitting, but I noticed that he was in a wheelchair.

D, however, looked the best out of all three of us, but that wasn’t saying much. She looked tired as well, not so much blinking as she was letting her eyes close, then opening them for brief intervals. She was dressed, though, in her usual style, her hair was sticking together, wet, as if she had just gotten out of a shower. If something were to happen, she’d be the most prepared to handle it.

I tried to speak, but there was a hitch in my throat, and I produced a light cough, instead. It didn’t escalate into a full-on fit, but it did bother me, how dry it sounded.

I cleared my throat, and tried again.

I spoke.

“Yo.”

Being succinct. It helped.

D smiled, soft, with none of the impish or vulpine quality I had come to associate with her expression. It looked as real as I hoped it was.

“Good to have you back,” she said.

Testing myself, I set my back straight up against the pillow, until I was sitting more upright. The bones in my back popped.

“Can’t say it feels good to, ah, be back,” I said.

“Careful,” Lawrence said, “Can’t have you overextending yourself again. Last time that happened, well, you ended up there.”

“Overextending… myself…”

I ran my fingers through my hair, my bangs, getting strands out of my eye.

“I don’t really, I mean, it’s all kind of fuzzy.”

“Take it easy, Vivi, let’s just take it easy, and take it slow. How are you feeling?”

Testing myself, I made a fist, with both hands.

All ten fingers…

“I feel like, I feel like shit. Like I overslept and lost any benefit of sleep to just go around and be tired again.”

“That’s because you did oversleep,” Lawrence said. “It’s been two days.”

My heart leaped in my chest, a small yet potent burst of energy that woke me up even more.

“Two days?”

“I wish it was a joke, but yeah,” D said, as if she was apologizing.

“You and I were supposed to be out of here yesterday,” Lawrence said, “But you slept right past that. We had to pay for an extra night, out of the gang’s pockets. Do you know how fucking expensive it is for just one night?”

“No,” I said.

Lawrence shook his head.

“If I hear that number one more time, I think I’ll lose it. So, never mind.”

D looked at Lawrence.

“You take it easy, too. Don’t give yourself any more stress.”

“Too late.”

She looked back to me.

“It doesn’t set us back that far. We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fucked, that’s what it means.”

“Lawrence!”

D shot a hard expression at Lawrence, one of disapproval. He only waved her off.

“I didn’t know I was out for so long,” I said. I put my hands together, resting right in front of me, on the blanket.

I broke all three rules I set for myself, I thought.

Causing problems, being an inconvenience. I didn’t like how much trouble I was causing for Lawrence and D, to the gang, and myself. Like taking steps forward, but always taking one less back. I would be making much more headway if I didn’t keep finding ways to stunt that progress.

D patted the blanket, right above my feet. I looked and met her eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” D said. “Taking it easy and slow. How much do you remember, before you woke up here?”

Before I woke up here.

My thoughts and memories were like peering through a fog. Thick, muddy, unclear. Difficult to parse. Even the dream I just had was already lost.

Lost, but I felt a certain discomfort.

“I haven’t been very good at remembering things,” I answered, telling the truth. “Asking me now would be like, I don’t know, turning water into wine.”

“Crazier things have happened,” Lawrence commented.

D gave him a glance.

“What happened?” I asked. I was almost afraid to ask, considering a sizable chunk of my memory was missing. I had blacked out, blanked out, lost all sense of self and what took place in the interim. Picking up the pieces without being aware of what knocked those pieces down in the first place…

I was almost afraid to ask, but I was more afraid of the picture I might end up with.

Still, it was something I needed to know. Rather that, than be out of the loop.

“You really don’t know?” Lawrence questioned.

“It’s fuzzy,” I said. “It’s hard.”

“Try.”

I tried. Searching for anything I could use to glean even a piece of what was missing. To latch onto something.

A dream. It was already escaping me, but I held on to what I could. Lawrence wanted an answer, and I had to find one.

“White. I remember being followed by Granon’s men, but, I think it was more me leading them. I brought them to that hallway, I remember that and how white it was…”

“Wasn’t like that when I saw it,” Lawrence said.

D’s reaction was expected. I continued.

“After that, it all goes blurry. I remember it being really hot, and…”

I trailed off. I massaged my fingers, working much longer on one in particular.

I remember how loud it was.

Even now, apparently two days later, the impression of it hadn’t gone away. A very distinct echo, still ringing in my head. Voices, distorted and raw. Pained, hurting, begging. I had a distinct feeling as to who those voices belonged to.

And a pounding. Though, that was much harder to place. I chose not to concentrate on it.

I stopped, letting the silence that followed be a sign that I was done, that I had divulged all that I could recall.

“That’s fine, you did what you could,” D said.

“I could be doing more, it’s just not coming to me. Dammit.”

It was frustrating, not knowing, but in this case, there was almost a comfort, in that.

Maybe I don’t want to know, after all.

“Has this happened before?” Lawrence asked, pulling me away from my thoughts. “You blacking out?”

“I, it’s… the first time.”

“It is?”

I didn’t respond right away.

It was a lie of the partial sort. She had moments when she lost herself, Alexis, but I didn’t claim those experiences as my own. They weren’t regular occurrences, and if this recent incident was bad, then it was impossible to recall anything of those times back then. Only that they happened.

“Do you know what caused it?” Lawrence asked. “Why?”

Don’t know. Don’t want to know.

“I wish I knew,” I said.

“That’s not inspiring a lot of confidence.”

All I could do was shrug.

Lawrence looked like he wanted to say more, but he deferred to D, instead, saying, “You’re up next, D.”

D pointed to a nightstand by the head of my bed.

“There weren’t any cameras in that area, I took some pictures of the hall after everything… happened. You want to see?”

The reaction was instant. My stomach was tied up in knots at the thought of it.

“No thanks, I don’t want to see it.”

“Maybe later, it is pretty important that you look at it.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to put my mind on other stuff. “Later.”

Lawrence sat back and folded his arms.

“Don’t dodge, D. Tell Wendy why and how we’re even here to begin with.”

D winced, as if those words had a weight to them, and Lawrence just hit her.

D, right. She was here, present, being active. It had just occurred to me that I was talking with her, seeing her.

When was the last time we talked, face to face? It felt like ages ago.

D twiddled her thumbs.

“That’s, uh, a much deeper conversation than I’m qualified to have, and personally I believe that everyone should find their own meaning and purpose in life, and-”

D cut off when she saw me.

“Please,” I said. “I hadn’t seen you for a while. I missed you.”

D reacted, making a face and adjusting her choker.

“Missed you too, Vivi.”

I would have expected Lawrence to make another comment, but instead, he just stayed back, watching, as if he was letting this happen.

Then, D gave her explanation.

“Alright, let’s back this up a bit. As I’m sure you might have guessed, but Styx did have a hand in this.”

“Styx,” I said, breathing the name. I let it sink in. I had never met the man before, not me, not personally, and yet he had played such a pivotal part in putting us in this situation.

It was a mixture of emotions. Anger being one of them. Rage, really. Forlorn, too, that I wasn’t doing enough to regain my own hold on things I didn’t like how events in my life were being arranged by people I’d never interacted with. That wasn’t freedom, it wasn’t peace.

D nodded, saying, “He helped because I came to him for help. And it wasn’t the first time. When we were tackling the whole Benny thing, he had his Ferrymen, um, contain the fires that we started in Eastside, so to speak. If it weren’t for him, we’d have a lot more enemies on our back, and we probably wouldn’t even last long enough to have Granon as an enemy. He’s had a hand in this, in our growth, and in our ability to maintain.”

I was in bed, but I still felt I had been knocked down.

My memory was hazy, but that was only for recent events. I remembered the Ferryman that I had encountered when I was making my way back to E-One, where Lawrence reported on the earpiece that he had Benny. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but, coupled with this, the other Ferryman that gave us the keys into the Lunar, maybe I should have.

D going to Styx… It made sense, but I almost wished it didn’t.

“How did you even know to go to Styx?” I asked, but I felt as if I already knew what the answer would be.

“Styx and her go way back.”

It was Lawrence that spoke, giving D an accusatory look. D, however, didn’t look back at him. Her focus was still on me.

She didn’t have anything to say.

I’d have to get it out of her.

“You could have told us,” I said. “Keep us in the know, keep me in the know. Maybe I hadn’t told you this before, but I absolutely detest being kept in the dark about things, being led around, manipulated, and played with. You were there, when EZ and Krown got the better of me, you know how it… irks me.”

D had a dour expression on her face, eyes down. She tried to make herself look small, bringing her shoulders down, inward.

But she was still there, I could still see her.

I asked her again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

D stammered out her reply.

“I, he, it was one of Styx’s conditions. I couldn’t directly help you guys, but I did what I could to work around it, bugging rooms and getting access to the security and cameras in the hotel. I was always keeping an eye on you guys, making sure things were running smoothly, and also I-”

I interrupted.

“I don’t give a fuck about that, D, that’s not what I’m getting at. I’m talking about before any of this shit even started. You could have told me about Styx’s involvement in our plan of getting Benny, you could have gotten ahead of this. I’m talking about the principle of the matter. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was a slow, barely perceptible movement, but D nodded her head.

“I do,” she said, sounding hushed and apologetic. She either meant it from the bottom of her heart, or she was playing up the little kid angle. It was hard to tell with her.

D continued.

“It was just, we were just starting, everyone was still getting used to the idea of working together, like Lawrence and the Ghosts, and us. I thought something like that would be so fun, and I didn’t want to mess it up, so I kind of played my own card, to ensure that everything would go smoothly. And then it worked, but like, I could tell that the other Ghosts were still kind of wary about me and Wendy, so I kept-”

I raised a hand, palm facing outward. D stopped.

I set my hand back down, and I noticed that I had been gripping the blanket tight. I had to pry my fingers out from the fabric before I could use them properly.

“No excuses,” I said, “I’m not in the mood for them. I just want things to get better. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, I’m holding you to that.”

D blinked, quiet, nodding as well.

It wasn’t great, and I was still feeling that mix of melancholy and anger. I wasn’t at my best, but it would have to do, for now.

But, shit.

So much to consider, now. Too much, even. It was overwhelming.

Take it apart, compartmentalize it. Discard what isn’t needed.

Not a bad way to start.

“Now,” I said, changing the course of the conversation, “There’s a lot we need to get through and figure out. Like what the fuck are we going to do now?”

I tossed the covers off of my body, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Heavier than I expected. I really had been out for a long time.

I took the next part easy, planting my feet on the floor, getting up slow. D got up from her chair to help me to a standing position. I didn’t stop her.

“Let’s move while we talk,” I said. “It should help me think clearly again, get all my gears moving.”

D helped me with my first step, allowed me to test myself with the second, and I was under my own power by the third.

I was still sluggish, but damn, it felt good moving around again.

What didn’t feel good, though, was how greasy and oily and sweaty my skin against my pajamas. I couldn’t wait to hop into the shower after this.

D went to Lawrence, turning him around in his wheelchair. She pushed, and they had passed me as we moved the discussion over to the living room area.

“Lawrence,” I said.

“Wendy.”

“How long are you going to be in that?”

Lawrence grunted.

“She’s been making me stay in this thing until we’re out of this hotel. But I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” D said. “I just want to make sure you will be.”

Lawrence made a hand signal, lifting a finger and traced a circle in the air. D spun around so they could both face me.

“As soon as we get out of here, I’ll be better than fine. I’ll be okay.”

“Soon,” I said. “When are we supposed to be leaving again?”

“Technically, twenty-two hours ago.” Lawrence let out a small chuckle.

“Noon,” D said, correcting him.

“So, we’ve got two hours? That’s enough time to iron things out.”

I put my hands on the ornate couch in the living room, using it for balance. I started.

“Let’s start with what we do know. Granon and the People’s Hammer?”

“Summarily fucked,” Lawrence offered. “You did your… thing, and I did mine. They’re not going to be a problem anymore, especially Granon. His employer might want to try branching into Stephenville again, but that won’t have anything to do with us. Probably.”

“Is he…” I paused.

“Dead? He’s not, but he is fucked. He’ll need a tube up his ass to take a shit, now.”

“Language,” D said. “Gosh.”

“I curse all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been doing it too much, lately.”

“It’s how I deal. Deal with it.”

D grumbled.

“Deal.”

“Next,” I said, “Styx. Is he still a factor?”

I would have asked about Granon’s men, if they had met a similar fate or not. But, this was one of those very few, very rare instances that I’d rather not know.

Killing was a hard line to cross, different from maiming or hurting. A very definite step above. I didn’t see myself as a killer, even with having handled knives and guns in the past. I’d hurt people, and I’d put them at the brink of death, but I had never pushed someone over the edge. I didn’t have a particular rule against it, but it would brand me forever, the second I crossed that line. Murderer. Killer.

Even Benny, whose life I was more than willing to take, I shied away from that particular edge at the last second. It didn’t feel right, in that instance.

Much like how it didn’t feel right, in this one.

If those men were gone forever, never to wake up again, I… couldn’t see me as being wholly responsible. I had lost control of both my mind and body, whatever happened wasn’t anything I intended to do. Maybe people did die, but it wouldn’t have happened if I could help it. And I couldn’t.

It doesn’t count.

“Styx will always be a factor,” Lawrence answered. “He was here before Stephenville became a sanctuary city for gangs and cartels, and he’ll probably be here even after nuclear war wipes the rest of us out. He’s a fucking cockroach.”

D answered the question properly, saying, “He sees me, or us, as being in his debt for all the assistance he’s provided. He’s going to want to cash in those favors. When? It’s anybody’s guess.”

“It’s going to be soon,” Lawrence said, as if it was a premonition. “It’ll be some sort of test, I’m guessing, he mentioned that we should get our shit together. But, whatever it is, I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Mentioned?” I asked.

“As in, he fucking told us.”

“Ugh, language,” D said, quiet.

“Ah,” I said, “Duh.”

Two potential tests.

At worst, they’d derail the gang’s progress. At best, it could be Styx’s way of helping us even more, but I doubted the man’s benevolence.

“Well, if he helped us twice, now, he probably wants to get something out of it,” I said.

“Three times,” Lawrence said, correcting me. “Three.”

I tilted my head.

“What was the third thing?”

Lawrence jabbed a thumb at D. She, in response, went stiff, her lips in a hard line.

“D,” I said.

“It’s not relevant,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “It doesn’t pertain to the gang.”

“I told you, D, I don’t like-”

“It’s not relevant!”

D shouted, sudden, so loud that I flinched, and I could have sworn the scene around me briefly change. White. Chairs strewn. Red splotched everywhere. I blinked, and I was back in the suite, in the living room, that incident already fading from my memory.

“Uh,” I said, unsure of how to respond, if I even should.

D had screwed her eyes shut. She wasn’t holding onto the wheelchair’s handles, her arms were straight down, hands balled up.

There was no act to it, no pretending. D was a kid, and she reacted like how a kid would.

She doesn’t want to say.

Lawrence gave me a measured, careful look.

“Hey,” he said, “If it’s not relevant, it’s not relevant. Right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, with care. “Not relevant.”

D took her time in composing herself, unwinding. She played with her choker.

I put my thoughts elsewhere.

I was standing, lifting a leg up to stretch and get blood flowing. I still felt fatigued, thoughts and ideas weren’t connecting as well as they should have been.

Delayed, I was finally hit by a harrowing realization.

I opened my mouth, speaking slowly.

“Does… Styx know my secret identity?”

Heads turned.

I saw their expressions. I knew.

“Fuck,” I said.

“It’s just a feeling,” Lawrence said, “But I have my doubts that he’d do anything with that. It’s his business to know things. It’s how he got to where he is today. If he let slip every piece of information he has, then his gang wouldn’t exist, or not to this capacity.”

“But he was a part of the Solace conspiracy,” I said. “He was directly involved with trying to take me out of the picture, during my Blank Face days.”

Lawrence spread his hands.

“I wouldn’t know about that. You’d have to ask her, she’s the one that’s chummy with the guy.”

I looked at D. She didn’t look at me.

“Styx isn’t going to do anything with that information,” D said. Her voice wasn’t firm, but it didn’t falter.

“You had better know for sure, or I’ll make it so he can never ride his bike again.”

For a moment, D set her jaw, lips pressed together.

Then, she replied.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

Covered, but not concluded. Styx’s actions, as I understood it, were completely contradictory. Sabotaging me as Blank Face, but willing to help now that I was V. It didn’t connect, not from where I was standing, not with the limited information I had on him.

I’d have to seek him out, one of these days. Get a proper dialogue going. If anything, it would interesting.

“So we’ll keep Styx in the back of our minds,” I said. “We still have our own priorities, and we can’t have him looming over our heads. We stick with our original plan, and whenever he shows himself again, we’ll be ready.”

Lawrence replied. “And our priorities are?”

“Maintenance and expansion. We touch base with our territory, and we start picking through other gangs that had a debt with the Ghosts. That plan is still in effect. That doesn’t change.”

“Hit the ground running, then? I’m down.”

“Same here.”

D had responded, though with less enthusiasm than before. She was still shaken from her own outburst from earlier.

I nodded, glad that we were in agreement. Even though it was on varying levels.

“Anything else?” I asked. Every pertinent item was addressed, but I wanted to be thorough, to cover all of our bases.

Lawrence didn’t hesitate to offer another topic.

“Yeah. You.”

I paused.

“Me?”

“You heard me. All this talk about knowing this and knowing that and staying in the loop, yet you’ve never told me a damn thing about how your powers actually work and what fuels it.”

“Fuel?”

“You mentioned that you don’t eat, that it was a drawback of your powers. What you failed to mention was, while you may not eat, you do drink, and I’ve seen what you’re like when you’re thirsty.”

I swallowed, hard.

“You saw?” I asked, my voice breaking a little bit.

“You’d have to be blind to miss it.”

It was my turn to avoid the stares. I glanced elsewhere, keeping my eyes down. I moved my hands to my side, but I found that my pajamas didn’t have any pockets.

I was in an awkward position.

“It’s not relevant,” I said.

“Bullshit. The only reason why things turned out like this is because you ran off and went berserk on Granon and his men. It’s why we had to stay an extra night to wait while you were recuperating. That is absolutely something I should know about. If I did, then maybe this entire thing would have went down different. Less messy.”

“It’s…” I started to say, but I wasn’t sure what point I wanted to make. What I point I wanted to refute.

Lawrence raised his hand again, using his thumb to point at the little girl behind him.

“Did she know?”

A simple question. A simple answer.

I gave him the truth.

“She does,” I said.

Lawrence frowned. And in his eyes, I could almost ascribe it to the same feeling I had now. That mixture.

“Let me ask the same question you asked her. Why the hell did you not tell me about this?”

My gaze was to the couch, down, unsure of what to say.

What was I supposed to tell him?

That I had once thought of him and his Ghosts as expendable? Pieces that could be sacrificed for a move or a play? No one ever liked hearing that they were expendable.

“It’s not something that is a direct concern for the gang,” I explained. “I have my condition, and I’m usually good at taking care of it on my own time. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, and I only told D because she asked.”

“So it’s my fault I didn’t consider that you might have a condition. How idiotic of me, then.”

“The less people know, the better. Just as a rule. Could you imagine what might happen if it got out? People were already freaking out and rioting over the fact that I exist. That would only get worse if they learned what I needed in order to sustain myself.”

“Panic is panic is panic. And you think I’m a snitch? That I’d go off and run my mouth to anyone who would listen?”

“Course not,” I said. “It’s just a rule. Did you want to know, Lawrence?”

His response was immediate.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Now I was confused.

I brought my eyes back up, meeting his.

He doesn’t want to hear it.

“Then why bring it up?” I asked.

“I had some time to think about it while you were resting. It’s not about me knowing, it’s about you not knowing. Because, it seems to me like you are completely unaware about who and what you are, and you’re letting your ignorance blindside you, and you’re not in a position to be tripped up like that. It’s dangerous, and more importantly, it’s stupid. My life is already crazy enough, I can do without your baggage.”

“What is it you want from me, then?”

He straightened up. I could see how he tried to mask the aches, his effort to maintain a neutral expression. It didn’t really work.

“I want you to get yourself together. And fast. We can’t bail you out everytime a screw gets loose in your head. If you become a liability, then that puts everyone in the gang at risk. Me, D, and all the rest. It’s like having nukes. Ideally, it should be used as deterrence against our enemies, and if we have to use it, then so be it. It shouldn’t break down and give the rest of us radiation and turn us into mutant-vampire-demon-things.”

“I doubt that’s going to happen,” I said.

“But do you know for sure? Like, how did you put it, it’s the principle of the matter. Understand, exactly, how you tick, and why. If you’re going to be our muscle, you can’t just come in, wildly and blindly swinging, hoping for something to connect. You have to think what your next move is going to be.”

Lawrence continued, “So instead of this-”

He mimicked what he had mentioned earlier. He swung his arms around, flailing them.

“Be more like this.”

He stopped, his arms out in front of him. He lowered them, posing, assuming a fighting stance.

“A Shaolin warrior.”

An odd sort of silence settled in, as Lawrence kept his fists up, and I stared, trying to make sense of the point.

It lingered.

D was the one to break it up.

“Wow! Where’d you pull that from? That’s so dorky!”

D started cackling, tossing her head back, making herself louder.

Lawrence turned red. Even his ears.

Then, he slammed his hands down, grabbing for the wheels of his chair, and he pushed himself away from D.

“Fuck this, fuck all y’all! You’re not taking this seriously!”

D tried to chase after him, but she had found it way too funny, having to lean on a leather chair for balance. She tried to call out to him between her fits of laughter.

“Wait, L- I am, we are taking this seriously, promise! Right Wendy?”

Despite how tired I was, how bombarded I was with every new update I had gotten, I broke, and cracked a smile.

“We are, Lawrence.”

It was a brief respite, considering I had just woke up, shaken, and immediately had to deal with the fallout of the fight with Granon. A little bit of levity could go a long way.

He stopped in his tracks, though he was pretty close to the door. It made me wonder where exactly he was trying to go.

Lawrence sighed, twisting his wheelchair around. D was cooling down, now, reduced to giggles. He spoke over her.

“But you do get my point, right?”

I did.

“I do,” I said, rubbing my eye, stifling a yawn. “I’d rather focus on this, the gang, but I can start that on the side… or something.”

“And whatever you do find, you can spare me the details, honestly. As long as you’re moving forward with it.”

“Yeah… no, yeah, that’s fair.”

“And I can help,” D ventured. She gave me a victory sign.

“If I need it,” I told her.

“No way, you don’t have a say in this, actually.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope. You shouldn’t keep trying to do everything yourself. Even if you have super duper strength, you still have your limits. Obviously. I’m just curbing this before it becomes a bad habit.”

I rubbed my eye again. “I can live with that. Sure.”

Before either of them could get another word in, I continued. “I see where you’re going with this, and I… agree. Is it safe to say that we’re all in sync, now?”

Lawrence’s head perked up, and I swore I saw him smiling.

“More or less. It’s a start.”

I nodded, satisfied.

“Awesome. Good, now we can actually start making some moves. And our first one should be getting out of this fucking hotel.”

“I’m definitely with you there, girl.”

“Same.”

I clapped my hands together, finally able to stand for an extended amount of time on my own two feet. “Then let’s move. Hit the ground running.”

After a shower.

Of course.

With everyone on the same page, we split up, each doing our own thing in order to get ready to leave.

I was ready to go.

Ready to get back to the territory, ready to make that territory larger, ready to work on other stuff that I’d have to pick and choose from.

I returned to the big, fancy bedroom, finding my luggage set aside in one corner. I worked on getting some fresh clothes to change into.

Part of me wanted to change into my costume, my mask was right there. I liked the way it fit on my face, the way it covered my eyes, how comforting it was to wear.

“Hey, Vivi?”

I turned as I closed a zipper, collecting a shirt and jeans instead.

It was D, standing over me with her hands behind her. Weird, to have her looking down at me.

I stood, and the perspective immediately switched. She moved her head in turn.

“What’s up?” I asked.

D moved her hands to her neck, tugging at her choker again.

“I wasn’t sure if I should say, but, I know that things got a little crazy, back there, and maybe you’re feeling super anxious about yourself and your powers and maybe even your body but that’s why I said I was going to help since you know it’s tough to try and do everything by yourself and I’d-”

I put a hand on her head, ruffling her hair. She stopped rambling, and dropped her arms to her sides. It was easy to forget just how young she was, sometimes.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” I said, “I’ll be fine.”

“But-”

I brought that hand up to my eye, rubbing it some more.

“But you don’t have to shoulder everything all on your own,” D said.

Still getting at that itch, feeling the eyelid flicker, I tried to assuage her concerns.

“Honest,” I said, lying, “I’ll be fine.”

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