your innie’s first day | a helena/helly r. x reader fic
2.2k words, severance (season 2) canon-adjacent, fem. reader, i wouldn’t call it “proof-read”
| you wake up, confused and knowing nothing about who you are. a newly severed ‘innie’, a half-baked escape plan, and an unfamiliar love. will helly be able to tell you who you are — and do you really want to know the answer?
warnings: mentions of self-mutilation (minimal), blood (minimal), power imbalance (?), violence (minimal), mentions of suicide (helly r.), girls kissing (ohohoho!), not a slow burn.
before you read (SEVERANCE S2 SPOILERS): helena & outie!r have an established relationship. this fic can be read in two different ways (with true helly or with helena masquerading as her — whatever floats your boat). outie!r met helly during the lumon event (they have a positive relationship) . outie!r does not know the extent of what lumon is up to or what really happens on the severed floor.
> ?:??am, innie, lumon’s severed floor
your face is pressed against a cool, flat surface. the back of your head throbs. you groan and sit up, the walls around you are bare. it seems like you’re in some sort of conference room. but if that's true, why are you lying in the center of the table?
“hi there, you on the table!” a cheery, but rather nervous voice echos from the device in front of you.
“who is that?” you back away from the device carefully, pulling your skirt further down over your legs.
“would you be interested in answering a few questions?” the voice asks.
you don’t respond, instead you plop off the table and onto the floor. you scan the room, the only way out appears to be through the metal door behind you.
‘i need a weapon.’ you run your hands up and down the chairs, searching for anything of use. you turn the first chair over, ‘nothing.’
“uh- e-excuse me! i understand you may feel confused, but i strongly believe answering these questions will help you feel better.”
under the second chair, you feel something wiggle against your pull. a long piece of metal, a screw. it’s not very sharp but it’ll do. you start to work it out of the chair.
“s-sure. i’ll answer a few questions.” you’ll play along, for now.
“thank you! okay, first question; who are you?”
you stop. you don’t know the answer. “i…” you fiddle with the end of the screw — its almost out. you tug it free and slide it up your blouse sleeve. “i don’t know.”
“just confirming, you don’t know who you are?” the voice asks.
you sigh and look up trying to spy any cameras hidden in the fluorescent lights, “sorry. i don’t.”
the voice asks you a few more questions, something about a state and another about your mother’s eye color. then, you hear the door click open. you back up against the opposite wall, palming the screw in your hand. a brown-haired man in a suit walks in and shuts the door behind him.
“don’t fucking touch me…” you growl.
he picks up the chair you knocked over and sits, “you got a perfect score and in record time, congratulations.” he smiles at you. “you’re a very good listener.”
something inside you stirs. “what do you want from me?”
“a better question is ‘what do you want from lumon’?” he sets down a file folder and spreads out a few papers. “how about knowing who you are?” he motions to the chair across from him.
you grip the screw so tightly it digs into your skin. you may have forgotten your name, but that doesn’t mean you're helpless. you step towards the man, cautiously.
the door clicks open again, a red-headed woman enters and stares at you, “drop it.”
you let the screw fall to the floor, you don’t even realize you complied until you hear it thud on the carpet.
“he’s right, you are a good listener.” she smirks at you and takes a seat at the head of the table, motioning to the seat across from the man.
“helly… i had it under control.” he groans.
“really? cause it looked like she was about to stab you.”
you stagger forward and sit down, eyes darting from one face to the other. the man clears his throat.
“hello! i’m mark s. , and this is helly r.” he turns a paper around to you, “and according this this, you’re—“
your ears ring as you look at the paper in front of you. it has your name on it and there’s an ID photo of yourself paperclipped to the corner; you’re smiling in the picture. it makes your stomach hurt.
“that’s me?” you question, touching the picture.
“that’s you.” helly answers, she leans in and studies your face.
mark explains the ultimate work/life balance to you — severance.
“why would i sever?” you ask and stare up at mark.
“yeah, why would you sever?” helly inquires, she stares at you in awe, but you’re not sure why.
“you mean; why would your outie sever” he smiles and clears his throat again, “unfortunately, why our outies sever is up to them. that information cannot be disclosed in respect of their privacy.”
“how about a tour?!” mark shoots up and collects the papers back into the folder. helly scoffs but stands and steps towards the door. mark beats her to it and holds it open, motioning for you to follow. helly nods her head slightly.
you follow them down hallway after unending hallway. you cross your arms as you trudge your way to your new home, macrodata refinement. your supervisor, mr. milchek takes time to introduce you to the rest of your team and sits you down at your desk.
“mark, would you please elaborate on today’s task for our new friend? and — while you’re doing that, i’ll prepare us some fresh and succulent melon,” milchek extends the last word of his sentence with a sing-songy tune. he pats your shoulders and slipping out the door.
mark explains the work to you. it’s mysterious and important — that’s been made clear. but you can’t focus on the numbers in front of you; your mind is reeling and it doesn’t help that your coworker, dylan, keeps glaring at you.
“why the fuck would they add a new person to the team after what happened? she’s totally a spy.” he peers over his divider at you.
“if she’s a spy she’s total shit at it.” helly chides, leaning back in her chair to look at you. “her heads down and her hands are over her ears.”
you scoff and push yourself away from your desk. “wow, you guys are awesome.” your words dripping with sarcasm.
you think a coffee will make you feel better. you head to the kitchen and pour yourself a cup; as you lean against the counter and sip, you do feel a little better.
“hey,” helly coos from the doorway, “sorry, we’re being assholes.” she moves in closer to you, “except dylan, he’s actually like that all the time.”
you let out a small laugh and her eyes light up. she pours herself a cup and leans against the counter next to you. she taps her fingers against her mug.
“at least the coffee here is good.” helly raises her mug to you and takes a sip.
“like we’d know any better?” you snap. “sorry.” you rub your hand against your forehead, “now who’s being an asshole?”
she chuckles. “you’re handling things a lot better than i did when i first got here.”
“i was going to stab mark.” you retort.
“still, way better than me.” she sets her mug down, “i tried everything to get out of here.”
she tells you of all her methods; swallowing a message, writing all over her arms, and of course — a suicide attempt.
“that was the closest i came to getting out of here, until…”, she trails off and shuffles uncomfortably. “anyways, what i’m trying to say is… it gets better..” she straightens her posture and heads back towards her desk.
“thank you.” you reach out and touch her arm, smiling. “um, sorry, could you point me towards the restroom?” she returns your smile and points down the hall.
you hold the empty coffee mug close to you as you make your way to the bathroom. you have a plan in mind. it’s more of an idea really — an act of rebellion? that has a better ring to it than “self mutilation”.
you peel off your blouse, leaving you in your cami, and wrap it around the mug. you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror. it causes you to waver — you look meek; pupils big and dialated. you suck in a breath and smash the mug against the counter. you feel it shatter and unwrap the garment, pulling out a thick, jagged shard. you shake the rest of the ceramic into the sink and bite down onto the blouse. ‘here we go.’
the shard hovers against your skin, you’re not sure what to write. what do you want to say to this other version of yourself? you’re not sure if you have the pain tolerance for a manifesto, so you decide a simple ‘FUCK YOU’ will suffice. you press into your forearm, blood starts trickling down to the floor; it leaves dark, crimson splats on the bathroom tile.
you’re just about to add the next slash when the bathroom door flies open; mark & mr. milchek storm in.
“shit!” mark rushes towards you, pressing his hand down against your bleeding arm. “what are you doing?!”
milchek rips the shirt out of your mouth and smacks your wrist hard, causing the shard to fly out of your hand and into a mirror. helly pushes into the bathroom, pausing to take in the scene infront of her.
“just leaving my outie a message,” you gasp and a drained laugh escapes from you. helly’s mouth is left hanging open in a stunned half-smile.
milchek’s head snaps towards helly, “you’re at fault for this somehow — aren’t you?” he pushes mark off you and grabs your wrists. “and you were doing so well.” he pulls you towards the door, “i’m most disheartened by your actions, let’s ensure you don’t repeat this behavior.” he smiles at you but his grip is rough and unkind.
“mr. milchek, please!” mark shouts, “t-the cut isn’t that bad. we can say it happened when she was helping cut melon — that she was being clumsy! please, mr. milchek.”
milchek glares at you, then mark.
“two attempted suicides on your record? i don’t think that will be received well, but what do i know?” helly picks a piece of lint off her sweater and flicks it towards milchek. she makes no efforts to hide the giant grin on her face.
he releases his grip on you and stares at helly, “fine.” he forces a smile, “but this…” he motions to the mess you made, “is coming out of your paycheck.” he points at helly before storming out.
“gladly.” helly sneers, flipping milchek off as he exits.
she races towards you and clamps her hand over your wound. she raises her eyebrows towards mark and motions to the door.
“i-i’ll go get some bandages…” mark stutters and rushes out of the restroom.
helly smiles down at you, her eyes flick from yours to your wrist.
your blood starts to seep through her fingers, “what was your message gonna be?” she doesn’t seem to mind.
you sigh and shake your head, “‘fuck you’”. helly laughs in disbelief.
you laugh, shakily. another wave of nausea washes over your body and you start to cry. helly pulls you into her, letting you rest your forehead against her shoulder.
“i keep thinking i’m going to wake up soon” you whimper and look up at her, “why are you being so nice to me?” she brushes a strand of hair off your face. “that’s like the only reason i don’t think this is hell.” you let out a hollow laugh.
“cause i was you.” she leans closer to you, “and you’re a good person, so it’s easy...”
you scoff, “how could you possibly know that?”
“it’s… a long story.” her eyes linger on your lips, “way too much for a first day. but, trust me.” her breath is shaky. she acts like she’s known you her whole life. her grip on your arm is tight, like she’s scared to let you go.
you wonder if she can hear your heart beating, it’s practically pounding out of your chest. your memory only stretches two hours before this moment, but you can’t help but trust her. she’s being so kind and she’s so beautiful. your stomach flip-flops.
“do we know each other out there, helly?” you touch her arm and she trembles.
“y-yeah.” her eyes trail all along your body. “i can’t believe you’re here.”
you raise your hand to her cheek, “do… do you know if we’re close?” your arm has stopped bleeding now but you still feel light-headed.
“uh-huh.” her breath hitches, “we are…” she sways towards you, her forehead pressing against yours. “i can’t believe you’re really here…”
you lean forward, she cups your cheeks and kisses you.
she yanks herself away, “i’m sorry—“
you pull her into another kiss and helly melts, you're so gentle with her. she struggles to be gentle with you; her nails dig into your waist, her kisses are getting rough and messy. you push back against her, “helly—“ you gasp.
she pulls away, panting, “s-sorry…”
you smirk and pat her shoulder.
“s’kay” you roll your shoulders back and clear your throat, “mark will be back soon.”
helly wets a few paper towels and wipes the blood off you. she dabs away the red handprint she left on the side of your face.
“i-im sorry,” she blots your cut, “i don’t know what i was—“
“helly, stop it.” you rest your hand on hers, “was that um… something our outies would do?”
“w-would you like to… do it again… sometime…?” your leg bounces anxiously.
her face burns red, “yes.” she blurts.
you’re cut off by mark slamming into the door, his arms are full of first aid materials. he lays them on the counter.
“i got bandages, tape, some other stuff, more bandages…” mark trails off, “i kinda just grabbed everything.”
you like mark. he makes you laugh, even when he doesn’t mean to.
he and helly start to bandage you up, they’re both so gentle with you. even when mark lifts you onto the counter, he’s treating you like you’re made of glass. you wonder if he knows who you are out there. you hope he thinks you’re a good person too. ‘good people apologize for trying to stab others…’ you reprimand yourself.
“i’m sorry i tried to stab you.” it comes out as a quick whisper, you expected it to be louder.
“don’t worry about it, seriously.” mark secures the bandage on your arm, “helly nailed me with a speaker during her interview.”
“which i apologized for.” helly states.
“i really don’t think you did!” mark laughs, “anyways, all better now.” he helps you down off the counter.
they walk you back to MDR and you actually start to get a hang of the numbers! though, you hate the ones that make your teeth hurt. its strange, the hours seem to fly by now. before you know it, milchek is knocking on the doorframe.
“time to clock out.” he orders. you rise and follow him towards the elevator.
helly smiles, “see you soon.”
> 6:30pm, outie, helena eagen’s house
“they said i got it from a cake-cutting mishap…” you winch as you rub your bandaged forearm, “atleast i got cake.” you smile up at your girlfriend.
“you didn’t have to do this,” helena huffs as she prods at her dinner, “i could have talked him out of it — it’s a big decision and if you felt pressured i-“
“lena…” you groan, “i’m fine.” you grab her hand from across the table and give it a squeeze. “i promise, babe.”
“do you think she recognizes me in there?” you bite your bottom lip. ‘i shouldn’t have asked that.’
helena drops her fork and rubs her forehead, “i don’t know.” you trace your thumb across her hand. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “i’m sure you’re a good influence on her,” helena kisses your hand, “i just hope i’m not a bad influence on you.”
you lean across the table and kiss her, “always are.” you tease.
a/n: helly wants that cookie so f’ing bad. ty for reading! pls leave me suggestions for more severance fics!
