We are Hunters, voices strong. Slaying demons with our song. Save the world and make it right. When darkness finally meets the light. 

Rumi’s darkness had met light and instead of being bathed in the shadows she’d feared her whole life, she’d been met with fractals of light. Mira. Zoey. They were just as broken as Rumi, in their own ways, but their broken pieces fit together like a puzzle, the fractures filled with gold. Not seamless, not perfect, but real and whole and beautiful nevertheless. It was something like peace, even if they weren’t strong enough on their own. 

Then Jinu sacrificed himself and Rumi shattered all over again. Not physically, not a complete collapse, but the edges of her freshly mended heart chipped away, cracks in the same pattern as the likes that decorated Jinu’s skin. Still, his sacrifice gave them the advantage they needed to create a new Honmoon and seal Gwi-Ma away again. The magical lines aren’t gold, but they are strong and true and Rumi knows, deep in her soul, that they’ll keep the demons at bay. 

The endless night turns to day and their work isn’t quite done yet. The demons had been defeated but now HUNTR/X had the much more dangerous issue of a possible PR scandal. Bobby handled it beautifully, as he always does, and their fans are able to accept that battle for the world as very elaborate special effects. Rumi’s patterns are not quite as vibrant to the naked human eye, but they are visible and it doesn't take long for fans to notice them. The tattoo excuse is flimsy but it’s not like they can explain what the patterns actually mean. Their fans, as adoring and trusting as always, praise Rumi’s new look and, after hours of signing autographs, taking pictures, and dodging questions about the Saja Boys, HUNTR/X is finally able to go home. 

Rumi, exhausted from the physical and emotional toll of the day, stumbles as they leave, only to be caught by Mira’s strong hands on her shoulders. She flinches away from the touch without meaning to, and though a brief look of hurt crosses Mira’s features, she doesn’t let go. Zoey comes up to Rumi’s other side and takes her hand. 

“Sorry,” Rumi says, unable to look either of them in the eye. “I just -” 

“It’s okay.” Mira replies, squeezing Rumi’s shoulders lightly. The patterns are warm beneath her palms. “Let’s go home. The couch is calling my name.” 

“Couch! Couch! Couch! Couch!” Zoey cheers, pulling Rumi along by the hand. Rumi laughs as she follows, her overwhelming desire to sleep for at least a day alleviated by the warmth of Zoey’s hand in hers and the steady pressure of Mira’s hands on her shoulders. 

Half an hour later, the three of them are piled on the couch in their living room, a mountain of food piled high on the coffee table in front of them, and thoughts of everything except getting some well-deserved rest pushed far from their minds. It feels deliberate when Mira and Zoey pull Rumi down to sit between them, but Rumi doesn’t have the presence of mind to think about it. She eats her weight in noodles and snacks, not really paying attention to anything but how cold the apartment is. She’s traded her normal hoodie for a tanktop and she’s surprisingly cold as a result. Rumi doesn’t mention it to the others, who are too busy competing to see who can put the most food away while some random show plays on the television mounted on the wall in front of them, but eventually the mountain has become more of a hill and the three of them are curled on the couch. 

Zoey curls up with her head resting on the arm of the couch, her favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around her and her feet stretched to rest across Rumi’s lap. Her eyes are big and bright as she focuses on the television. Mira and Rumi had let her pick what they watched now that they were done eating and she had picked one of her favorite movies from growing up in America. Rumi was still sitting near the middle of the couch, though she’d moved over slightly to allow Zoey the room to stretch out. She’s looking at the screen without really taking anything in, replaying the events of the day before in her mind over and over again, until a soft touch brought her out of her thoughts. 

It’s Mira, who had unearthed a second blanket and had thrown it over Rumi. She moves a bit closer on the couch, wrapping her arm around Rumi’s shoulders and rubbing her hand along the upper section of Rumi’s arms. 

“You looked cold.” Mira says when Rumi gives her a questioning glance. 

“I’m not used to wearing short sleeves.” Rumi manages a half smile with the words. Mira hums softly and inches closer. Her voice drops a little lower. 

“I won’t ask if you’re okay, because that’s a dumb question.” Mira says. Rumi huffs a laugh. “But I will ask if there’s anything I can do? Anything you need?” 

Rumi hesitates, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she finally shakes her head. She doesn’t know if she’s really processed everything that’s happened in the past two weeks but she knows that she’d spent hours feeling lost and alone and that was the scariest part of it all. 

“Maybe just - stay. With me.” Rumi shifts closer, lets her head fall onto a slim but strong shoulder. “I really don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“We’re not going anywhere.” Mira squeezed her shoulder again. “I won't leave you. I promise.” 

Rumi nodded, sinking into the warmth of Mira at her side. She freed one of her hands from beneath the blanket, resting her palm on Zoey’s calf in her lap, and finally let go of the tension building in her body. Her muscles relaxed, Mira shifted her to rest more securely against her side, and Rumi found her eyelids drooping further down with each passing second. She was asleep before the movie finished its first act, safe and warm between her friends. 

TWO

The second time Rumi falls asleep on Mira is an accident. They’re in the studio again, working on their new album. Technically, HUNTR/X is on hiatus at the moment. They’d earned their three months off with blood, sweat, and tears, but none of them were able to switch off completely. They hadn’t performed since the failed Idols, but they’d made a few public appearances. Never planned, never coordinated, but enough to keep both them and their fans satisfied for the moment. One fan's hope for new music had spurred the trio into action, lyrics and beats flowing from their lips like they used to. It’s easy, simple, and free. 

They lose track of time easily when they’re tucked away between the walls of their home studio. They’d made the executive decision early in their career to ban their cellphones from the room in the name of limiting distractions, which had the predictable effect of also ensuring that they were basically unreachable while they were recording. Celine would be able to get through to them sometimes, and Bobby would let himself into their condo if they took longer than a few hours to respond but aside from those two, no one could find them. It was exactly what they needed to get their music made. 

They’d worked out a system for their music years ago. They’d start with the lyrics, getting a chorus or a bridge or a verse and then finding a beat that matched it. Once they had a base, it was time to explore it, roundtable style. They’d work together to find the words and the chords, shouting suggestions until they had something usable. Then, once they had a song rather than an idea, they’d split to their own talents. Zoey would refine the lyrics, Mira would take over finalizing the music and overall style of the song, and Rumi would work out the harmonies and line distribution. This had been Celine’s job back when they started, their mentor often favoring Rumi ahead of the others, but Rumi did her best to make it even. She’d never wanted to be a solo act and Zoey and Mira both deserved their time in the spotlight. 

They had finished one song and were starting on another when the lack of sleep Rumi had been getting started catching up to her. She hadn’t been sleeping well since they created the Honmoon, her dreams interrupted by visions of hellfire, golden demon eyes, and anguished cries of the people she held dear. She saw Jinu’s last moments over and over again, but the smile he’d had the day of was replaced by a pain filled grimace. The cheers of the HUNTR/X fans were drowned out by screams. The glow of the Hunters weapons that Mira and Zoey wielded were blinding as they plunged deep into Rumi’s stomach. 

Rumi would wake up, sweaty, pale, crying, with nothing but the glow of her patterns and the soft fur of Derpy the tiger for comfort. She could only be thankful that she hadn’t been crying out in her sleep. She didn’t want to make Mira or Zoey lose sleep either. The nights leave Rumi with heavy circles beneath her eyes, covered with makeup, and a miserable lack of energy. 

Now, sitting in their studio with Zoey mumbling lyrics to a new song while she scribbles away in her journal and Mira sitting close at her side, absently strumming on a guitar, Rumi can feel her limbs growing heavy with sleep. She doesn’t remember what she’s supposed to be doing in preparation for their next song and she doesn’t have her phone to distract, so it’s only a matter of time until she begins to lean to the side. Her head finds the back of Mira’s shoulder, her eyes falling closed at the same time that her breathing slows and deepens. 

“Oh.” Zoey squeaks when she turns with an idea, only to see their leader asleep on Mira’s shoulders. “Should we take a break?” 

“Just let her sleep.” Mira responds. She glances at the lavender hair on her shoulder. Her lip quirks into a small smile. “She clearly needs it.” 

Zoey agrees, flipping to a new page, but there’s something about her smile that makes Mira narrow her eyes at her. 

“Are you ever going to -” 

“No.” Mira interrupts, freezing in place when her unintentionally loud voice makes Rumi shift in her sleep. Rumi stirs slightly, mumbles something that neither of them catch, and then settles again. “She’s got enough on her plate already.” 

Rumi, awake enough to know that Mira is speaking but not enough to track her words, moves closer, wrapping her arm around Mira’s middle in an attempt to get more comfortable leaning against her. She doesn’t feel the way Mira’s breath hitches at the contact or the knowing smirk in Zoey’s eyes. A beat passes and the other two members of their trio turn back to their tasks, Rumi’s soft snores grounding them both in the moment. 

THREE

The lights are low, the covers drawn over the windows as the adrenaline fades from the trio of superstars soaring through the sky in the aftermath of their first comeback concert. The performance had been a raving success, from the songs to the choreography to the harmony of the HUNTR/X on stage. They moved around one another with grace, trading smiles and even a few quick jokes as they pass one another. Their smiles are genuine, their voices unwavering. Rumi’s patterns seem to shine beneath the stage lights, mesmerizing the crowd. Even Mira seems momentarily distracted by the blue-purple-pink lines that slice across Rumi’s skin when they have a few moments backstage for a costume change. 

The fans are screaming for an encore at the end and the trio pulls out a stunning performance of ‘How It’s Done’ to end the evening, leaving them sweaty and panting as the lights fade and the crowd roars. The descending platform that guides them to the space beneath the stage moves them out of sight, where they are quickly ushered into their dressing rooms to change into comfortable clothes for travelling. 

An hour later, the HUNTR/X jet is flying high, and the girls are settling in for a few more hours of travel before they’ll get to the hotel in the next city. Their comeback tour isn’t a massive one, only a handful of stop compared to their last one, but after three months of down time, they’ve sort of fallen out of the rhythm of it. Rumi doesn’t mean to fall asleep before she’s even done eating her post-concert snack. She doesn’t even realize she’s fallen asleep at all until she’s gently woken up. 

“What’s ha-” 

“Nothing, nothing, we’re not there yet.” Mira says. It’s her hands on Rumi’s shoulders that had woken her up. Rumi blinks at her in sleepy confusion. Mira half-smiles at her, eyes soft in the dim lighting of the plane. “You were sleeping with your head hanging weirdly. Your neck is gonna hurt like a bitch if you keep that up.” 

Which, yeah, Rumi can already feel the crick in her neck from the awkward sleeping position and she’s vaguely aware that she’d been holding chopsticks in her right hand when she’d fallen asleep, but those are gone now. A sleepy glance to the side reveals the chopsticks and the noodles she’d been eating had been set in the cupholder for her. Rumi looks back at Mira and makes a soft noise, almost a laugh, almost a huff, that manages to communicate her understanding and appreciation. 

Mira smiles and it’s different than her normal smile. Softer, somehow. Rumi finds herself smiling back before she stretches out her neck and yawns so wide it makes her eyes close. Mira is sitting beside her when Rumi’s eyes open again, her phone in hand. Rumi is still just sleepy enough to not hesitate in leaning her head against Mira’s shoulder. Mira accepts the weight of Rumi against her with a quick shift of her weight, her own head tilting to rest against Rumi’s. 

Rumi watches over Mira’s shoulder as she scrolls through various social media feeds, occasionally popping in to comment or react to their fans showing them all the love after their concert. She threads her arm around Mira’s at one point to double-tap a post and then leaves her hand there, resting on Mira’s arm. Her eyes are drooping again when she feels Zoey join them on the large seat. Zoey lays her head in Rumi’s lap, eyes locked on her own phone. Rumi’s free hand comes to rest gently on top of Zoey’s head and then she’s asleep again. 

“You know she-” 

“Shut up, Zoey.” 

Rumi is woken up again as the plane is coming in for a landing, Bobby cheerfully announcing that there’s a crowd of fans waiting to greet them despite the late hour. The trio of pop stars rallies to the occasion, leaving their jet with warm smiles and waves to the crowd, but they don’t linger for too long. Rumi ushers Zoey along, the youngest member of their group also having taken a catnap on the plane and as such is slightly less reactive than normal, and Mira follows behind them like a guard. They pile into the SUV waiting for them, Rumi and Zoey both drifting in and out sleep as they make the short drive to their hotel. Mira, the only one other than Bobby who is fully awake, gets them into the elevator and then into their room. 

Zoey collapses into bed without prompt, and Rumi is awake enough to chuckle softly as the younger girl wraps herself in the blankets. Mira huffs, a sound that communicates amusement, annoyance, and fondness all at once as she plucks Zoey’s phone from her hands and sets it to charge. When Mira steps into the bathroom, Rumi shakes herself awake enough to pull their suitcases into the room, set their alarms for the morning, and lock up the hotel room before she changes out of her travel clothes. She’s just pulling down the blankets on the second bed when Mira returns to the room proper, also changed for bed. Rumi settles beneath the blankets and watches Mira look between the beds. 

“There’s no way I’m getting even an inch of that blanket.” Mira says, looking at the blanket burrito that Zoey had made around her. Rumi laughs softly. 

“Probably not.” She agrees. Mira shoots her a glare that only makes Rumi laugh more. She gestures to the open other side of the second bed. “Just share with me.” 

“Oh.” Mira pauses and for a minute, Rumi isn’t sure why she would hesitate at the idea of sharing a bed. Rumi’s been making a habit of falling asleep against her shoulder everywhere else. Why would a bed be different? But then, Rumi remembers that they’ve never done that. Before her patterns were exposed, Rumi wouldn’t have offered to share her bed. She wouldn’t even be in the room with them, too scared that they’d discover her secret and isolating herself in an attempt to avoid it. 

“I mean, if you want. I-I-I don’t mean that you have to sleep with m- in the same bed as me.” Rumi feels a flush rising up her face. She’s never been particularly tongue tied or nervous, at least not around Mira, and she doesn’t have the energy to analyze why she is in that moment. She just knows that she feels safe when Mira is beside her and for the past few months, the only time she hasn’t had nightmares is when she fell asleep beside Mira. 

“Don’t have a conniption, Rumi.” Mira says. There’s a physical shift in her that Rumi can tell is a manifestation of the inner walls Mira has being made stronger, though Rumi can’t fathom why Mira would need to build up her walls here, in their hotel room with Zoey asleep and Rumi bleary eyed and half-asleep herself. “If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask.” 

Rumi groans and throws herself back onto the pillows behind her. Mira is almost cackling as she rounds the bed and crawls in beside her. Rumi finds herself laughing along, turning on her side to watch Mira settle with hazy, half-amused eyes. She waits until Mira is settled before she slides over, placing her head in the crook of Mira’s neck. She feels Mira tense and then relax and has just enough presence of mind to check in. 

“This okay?” Her voice is muffled by the sleep creeping in. She feels Mira’s arm wrap around her, hold her closer. 

“Yeah.” Mira says. She waits until Rumi is asleep before she speaks again. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

FOUR

They’re three weeks into their tour when it happens again, but Rumi can admit that it’s not exactly an accident anymore. There’s comfort and safety when she’s near Mira, when Rumi’s able to let go of the pressure of being their leader, both on stage and off, and allowed to just be for a moment. To breathe. Mira never complains when Rumi inevitably ends up lounging against her, or when Zoey joins them and they become a pile of tangled limbs and hair that gets everywhere. She’s tense at times, her spine straightening like she feels like she has to stand taller whenever Rumi leans on her, but she never admits that anything is wrong when Rumi checks in. 

It’s the second half of their short comeback tour and Rumi can feel the tiredness creeping in more and more. Touring is incredible and exciting and something that Rumi will never take for granted, but it’s also a gruelling, demanding series of events with very little downtime. Between travel, rehearsals, actual performances, plus interactions with VIP fans and promotional duties, tours are mentally, physically, and emotionally draining. The Honmoon is still holding strong and they haven’t had to justify getting a new plane because theirs was hijacked by demons or sliced in half, but that’s the only thing that keeps the tour from transitioning from draining to exhausting. 

They’re on a bus instead of a plane. It’s midday and the small space is bustling with activity. They’ll go straight into a sound check when they get to the venue, an unfortunate result of the interview they’d done first thing that morning, so they spend part of the drive refreshing the setlist and their minds for the performance to come. They aren’t lacking in songs to choose from, with a five year discography to choose from, and they’d silently dismissed ‘Takedown’ from ever being performed live again. They didn’t want to remind their fans of the very public fight the song had been last time. They didn’t know that demons had been masquerading as Mira and Zoey. 

Bobby is explaining their rather tight schedule for the next few days when it starts to be too much for Rumi. She’s already fighting off a lack of sleep induced headache - she’d never travelled well on buses - and knowing that it’s going to be more of the same for the next few days isn’t reassuring her. She listens just enough to offer an affirmative sound when Bobby asks for one and then collapses back against the couch when he moves away to speak with the makeup artist on board. 

“Hey, you okay, Rumi?” Zoey asks her softly. Rumi nods and offers the girl a smile. 

“I’m fine. Just a headache.” She replies, shrugging sheepishly. “I’ve never slept well on these things.” 

Both Mira and Zoey blink in surprise. It’s something that they should have known well before now, Rumi knows. This is hardly the first time that they’d ridden on a bus for multiple days in a row. They’ve been doing this for five years. This shouldn’t be new information to them but it is and Rumi can’t help but feel guilty about that. Her shoulders drop in an attempt to make herself smaller. 

“Oh, well,” Zoey shares a look with Mira that feels significant. Rumi can’t decipher it. The two of them reach some kind of conclusion though as Mira leans back against the cushions with an expectant look towards Rumi and Zoey darts away from them, returning a moment later with two small, disposable cups in her hands. “Here, take these.” 

Rumi does so robotically, already leaning towards Mira’s side like a magnet is pulling her there. Her confusion must be visible on her face or in her body language as after she’s swallowed the two pills and handed both cups back to Zoey, Mira speaks up. 

“We have enough time for you to take a nap.” Mira explains, directing Rumi’s head to her shoulder like it belongs there. Like there’s nowhere else that she expects Rumi to have her nap other than pressed against her side. 

“Don’t we have things to do before we get there?” Rumi asks, but she’s already settling into place, wrapping her arm around Mira’s waist and curling her feet up on the couch. Her toes end up tucked beneath Zoey’s thigh when she joins them again. 

“Nothing that’s more important than you getting some rest.” Mira answers. 

“We’ve been doing this for years. They barely need us to run any of the pre-show stuff.” Zoey agrees. She has her switch in her hands now and Rumi can hear the soft sounds of one of her usual, mindless games coming up. One that she plays to pass the time rather than because of a good story or challenge. 

“We’ve been on the road for almost a month.” Mira’s hand brushes through Rumi’s hair, just beside her signature braid. “We can take a break for a few hours.” 

Any protest that Rumi wants to make dies when Mira’s hand continues to play with her hair, gently so she doesn’t mess up her hair, but enough that her nails scratch against Rumi’s scalp in just the right way. Instead, Rumi sighs, presses closer to Mira’s side, and lets the sleep that she’s been lacking take over her. 

“She certainly looks comfortable there.” Zoey remarks once she’s sure that Rumi is asleep. Mira is still absently playing with Rumi’s hair, a faraway look on her face. “So do you.” 

“Zoey.” 

“Mira.” Zoey matches her tone. “C’mon, Mira. You’re going to have to tell her eventually.” 

“There’s no rule that says that.” Mira can’t look her in the eyes. Zoey rolls her eyes and turns back to her game. 

“When are you going to admit to yourself that those walls you’ve built up are pointless? She’s already on the other side of them and you know it.” 

Mira doesn’t respond. 

A few hours later, Rumi wakes up in almost the same position that she fell asleep in. She’s still curled against Mira, but Zoey has moved further down the bus to get her makeup done. The open countryside outside has been replaced with the familiar sights of an upcoming city, dense traffic included. Rumi yawns and rubs her eyes but she doesn’t pull away from Mira yet. 

“Have a nice nap?” Mira asks. Rumi nods.

“Thanks for being my pillow.” Rumi says as she pulls away. Mira turns to her with a smile, the features of her face highlighted with her usual stage makeup. Rumi wonders if Mira had stayed there, letting Rumi sleep on her shoulder, while her makeup was done instead of risking waking her up by moving. The thought makes her feel warm inside in a way that has been growing increasingly familiar over the past few months. 

“Anytime.” Mira promises. Rumi knows she means it. 

“Oh, good, Rumi. You’re awake.” Bobby says as he comes up. “You’re up next for makeup. We’re just under an hour out from the venue. I’ll have your pre-concert carb load waiting in your dressing room.” 

“Thanks Bobby.” Rumi stands, and stretches. The bus sways slightly and Rumi feels Mira’s hand on the small of her back to steady her. 

“No problem, girls. You know I’m here for anything you need.” Bobby smiles at them. “Oh, and you’re already trending. Those HUNTR/X pre and post concert cuddle pics are doing numbers online.” 

Rumi raises an eyebrow as Bobby is distracted scrolling, sharing a look with Mira. Now that she’s certain Rumi is steady on her feet - not that she was ever unsteady, but Mira had reached out before she thought about it - Mira’s hand drops back to the couch cushions and she gestures towards the makeup chair with her chin. 

“Go make your face even prettier than it already is.” 

As her makeup is applied, Rumi pulls out her phone and finds the trending pictures. As Bobby said, the pictures are of the three members of HUNTR/X resting together. The first is from their first night on tour, with Mira resting her head against Rumi’s, who is curled against her side. Rumi’s other hand is resting gently in Zoey’s hair, the youngest girl resting with her head in Rumi’s lap. All three of them appear to be asleep in the picture. The second was one that had been taken only a few hours ago. Rumi is the only one asleep in that picture, but Mira and Zoey are both the picture of relaxed grace on either side of her. 

In both photos, Rumi can’t help but notice how peaceful she looks. All the tension in her body is gone. She’s almost smiling in her sleep, an easy, unconscious joy that brings a smile to her face now as she looks at them. She saves both photos to her personal HUNTR/X album on her phone. 

FIVE

The tour ends with a great deal of fanfare and more than a few tears - from fans and stars alike - but it does come to an end. Their condo in HUNTR/X tower is warm and inviting when they get home, the couch calling to them with an offer of unmatched relaxation. Rumi is unsurprised to find both Derpy and Sussie in her bedroom. They’d both been frequent visitors while the tour had been going on, but they’d stayed out of sight for the most part. Rumi is happy to see them both, laughing slightly as they both jump up to greet her and the motion makes Sussie’s hat almost come off. 

Rumi takes a long shower, washing away the layers of sweat and makeup and the pressure of an ever present audience so that when she finally emerges, fresh faced and hair down, she feels more like Rumi again. She dresses in shorts and a cropped tank, drying her hair until it’s no longer dripping before she steps back into her bedroom. Derpy and Sussie follow her out when she heads towards the kitchen, greeted by Zoey’s excited squeals when they enter the room. 

The trio spends their dinner time talking animatedly about the tour, scrolling through the videos and pictures and comments posted online with joy. They snap a picture to share with their fans before Rumi mutes her phone for the night. It’s not particularly late, but Rumi can feel sleep calling her name already so it’s not long after dinner that she bids the other two a good night and retreats back to her bedroom. 

She’s been too busy with the tour for the nightmares to creep in, but despite the exhaustion she feels, all the bad dreams she’d been subconsciously holding back when sharing space with Mira and Zoey come rushing in. But they’ve changed. 

There’s still hellfire. There’s still the voice saying that Rumi could never be enough, that she doesn’t belong because she’s an abomination. There’s cries of pain and outrage. There’s Rumi’s voice being taken over by something dark, something angry. But there’s also Zoey turning her back on Rumi, ignoring any attempt Rumi makes to get her attention. There’s the voice of Jinu in her ear, a whisper full of disdain and hate. 

‘You honor my sacrifice by loving her?’ 

There’s a flash of familiar pink hair. The glow of Mira’s spear as she spins it in her hands. The blade comes to a stop, pointing at Rumi’s chest. Rumi can see her reflection in the metal of the mystical blade, can see the way that the patterns on her skin have darkened and that her eye has turned yellow. When Rumi looks up at Mira, only now aware that she’s laying helpless on her back with Mira standing over her, she doesn’t see the lightness in her eyes that she’s become so accustomed to. There’s no warmth, no affection, not even the hint of her inner walls hiding her feelings. There is only hate and disgust. 

‘You think I could ever love you? Someone so tainted by the darkness, you willingly gave your heart to a monster?’ 

“Please.” Rumi begs. “Please, Mira. You promised you wouldn’t leave me.” She’s crying now. Mira’s blade presses into her chest hard enough to draw blood. Rumi gasps from the pain of it. 

‘You’re not you anymore, Rumi. You’re just a demon.’ 

“No, Mira. I’m still me. I am. I still care about you.” 

Mira’s smile is nothing but malice, the glow of the hellfire around them giving her an ethereal look. Even as her blade presses deeper into Rumi’s chest, Rumi can’t help but think that she's beautiful. 

‘Demons don’t have feelings.’ 

Mira steps away, leaving her staff buried in Rumi’s chest. She turns and walks without stopping. She doesn’t turn when Rumi calls her name. Gwi-ma’s laughter, dark and threatening, fills the space. Rumi is still crying Mira’s name when her body jolts forward. 

Her eyes snap open, a sob escaping her lips as she comes to the waking world. The light is on in her bedroom, casting shadows along her wall. Rumi can’t breathe against the pressure in her chest. 

“Rumi. Rumi! Rumi!” The voice breaks through her panic. It’s Mira. Rumi’s gaze finds her, eyes wide with worry and hair mused from sleep. She’s kneeling on the edge of Rumi’s bed, her hands resting on either of Rumi’s arms. “Rumi, breathe.” 

Rumi takes a deep, shuddering breath. She pulls away from Mira’s hands, still feeling the phantom weight of her spear in Rumi’s chest. She shuffles back and away, dodging the hands that reach for her until she’s on her feet. She needs air and space. The balcony door is pulled open and Rumi tumbles into the space outside her room. 

“Rumi, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Please.” Mira follows her out but she keeps her distance now, watching as Rumi struggles to get control of herself in the wake of her nightmare. “Rumi?” 

She doesn’t have the breath to answer yet. She just shakes her head, sliding to the ground with her back against the wall and her knees curled against her chest. She hears Mira copy her position with enough distance between them that Rumi doesn’t feel crowded. Derpy appears at her side and presses against her. 

“I’m here, Rumi.” Mira promises softly. “I’m not leaving.”

Slowly, Rumi’s breathing slows. Her limbs relax, the hands that she’d clenched into fists uncurl enough to tangel in Derpy’s fur. The phantom pressure in her chest dissipates slowly, growing lighter with each steady exhale. Mira sits in silent vigil until Rumi finally looks up at her. 

“Hey.” Mira says softly. The multicolor light of the Honmoon reflects in her eyes and Rumi can’t see anything but care in the hues she finds there. 

“Hey.” Rumi sighs the word. Her shoulders droop slightly. Mira scoots fractionally closer. 

“Must have been an awful nightmare.” Mira speaks softly, like she’s afraid Rumi will break if she raises her voice. “I’ve never heard you cry like that.” 

Rumi swallows thickly, only now aware of the soreness of her throat. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Rumi says instead of addressing the nightmare. Mira, of course, sees right through her flimsy attempt at changing the subject. 

“What happened? I thought the nightmares were gone. You didn’t have any when we were on tour.” Mira’s voice is still soft, but Rumi can hear the current of worry in her words. Rumi shrugs slightly in response. 

“I basically collapsed from exhaustion every night of the tour.” She says. She can’t look at Mira so she focuses her gaze on the skyline stretched before them. “And I wasn’t sleeping alone.” 

“Were you having nightmares before the tour?” Mira asked, again shuffling closer. She was near enough now that Rumi could feel her warmth even as she curled further into herself. Rumi nodded before setting her chin on her knee. 

“They weren’t as bad. More memories than anything else. Of that night. The performance. And when you and Zoey found me after…” 

“You have nightmares of me pointing my blade at you?” Mira’s voice has changed, something cracked and broken slipping between the words. It’s completely inappropriate, but Rumi wants to laugh at the question. She wished the nightmare had stopped at that. “Rumi, you know I’ll never do that again, don’t you?” 

The hum that Rumi responds with is noncommittal. She knows that she can trust Mira. Mira doesn’t say anything that she doesn’t mean, but the words are soured by the memory of her spear pressed into Rumi’s chest in her nightmare. 

“No, Rumi, I need you to believe that. I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I reacted that night.” Mira insists. She’s even closer now, close enough that it would take no effort at all for Rumi to turn and curl into her arms. She almost does it, too, drawn to the comfort of Mira’s embrace like a moth to a flame, but Mira’s words from the dream come back and halt her movements. 

‘You think I could ever love you?’ 

“You were scared and blindsided.” Rumi shrugs. “I don’t blame you for reacting the way you did.” It was what Rumi had always known would happen. 

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.” Mira says. Rumi doesn’t respond. Mira waits a moment and then presses on. “Is that what you dreamed about tonight?” 

“Yeah.” Rumi sighs. “That’s how it started anyway.” 

“How did it end?” 

“With your blade in my chest as you walked away.” Rumi doesn’t mean to say it, but she can’t hold it back, and Mira would see through any lie she tried to spin. Mira gasps. “After you told me that you could never love someone tainted by darkness. Especially after I fell for a demon.” 

“That’s - I can’t - I’m so sorry, Rumi.” Mira’s voice has changed again, filled with something deep and soulful. Rumi turns her head just enough to see Mira’s face clearly. There’s tears in her eyes and Rumi unwraps one of her arms from around her knees to wipe them away. 

“I know that it wasn’t you. I know that you never break your promises.” Rumi says. “It just felt real. Really real.” 

Her other hand rubs at her chest, where dream-Mira’s blade had cut into her skin. 

“I’m sorry.” Mira covers Rumi’s hand on her cheek with her own. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“You’re here.” Rumi feels the first flicker of a smile on her lips since she woke up. “That helps.” 

A moment passes. Rumi’s hand is still pressed to Mira’s cheek, gently caressing along her cheekbone. Her own tears have dried and Rumi feels her earlier exhaustion return to her. Mira must be able to see it sweep over her again because she rises to her feet and holds her hands out to help Rumi up as well. Once they’re both standing up, Mira pulls Rumi into a hug that finally dispels the lingering shadows in her chest. She can’t feel the phantom pressure anymore, or the sting of dream-Mira’s words. She can only feel Mira’s body pressed against her own, the warmth of her hands resting on either of Rumi’s hips, the steadiness of her breathing as she holds Rumi close. 

Rumi doesn’t have to ask Mira to stay. They climb back into Rumi’s bed as a unit. Mira reaches out to pull Rumi closer rather than waiting for Rumi to move on her own. They curl together now, not just a head on a shoulder and a half embrace but fully tangled together. Mira’s arm curls around Rumi’s back, her fingers stroke a soothing pattern down her spine. Rumi’s head finds its place in the crook of Mira’s neck and she drapes her arm over Mira’s abdomen. Their legs tangle together. She feels the soft pressure of Mira’s lips against her forehead. Derpy curls up at the foot of the bed, close enough that Rumi can feel his warmth too. 

When Rumi falls back asleep, her dreams are filled with quiet warmth and soft affection. And from somewhere far beyond her understanding she hears Jinu’s voice. 

‘Let yourself live the life you deserve. That will honor me more than anything else.’ 

+ONE

It’s a few weeks later when the first tear in the Honmoon appears. They’d known it would happen eventually. Rumi had never thought that they’d killed the demon overlord, only subdued him. As long as humans existed, Gwi-ma would hunger for their souls. 

They’re rehearsing for a local event when the rip appears. Bobby doesn’t even have time to question where they’re going before the HUNTR/X stars have seemingly disappeared into thin air. They fall into the familiar rhythm of battle, singing as they go. Rumi almost laughs when the familiar lyrics of ‘How It’s Done’ fall from their lips. Her blade is still imbued with Jinu’s soul, glowing brighter than usual and cutting through the demons easily. 

Rumi feels Mira and Zoey moving beside her, their movement as fluid as their choreography on stage and doubly as impressive. Mira catches her eye and winks. Rumi feels a blush climbing up her cheeks at the motion and she can tell that Mira sees it from the way she smirks. 

“Can you guys flirt when we’re not fighting demons?” Zoey complains, but there’s no heat in her words. 

“We’re not flirting.” Rumi fires back as she slices the head from the demon charging towards her. 

“Just like we haven’t been sleeping together.” Mira quips. Zoey cackles as she throws her knives out, taking out four demons in one fell swoop. Rumi turns to glare at Mira as she flips over her head and stabs through another demon. 

“Oh, careful, Mira, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch.” Zoey backflips away from a striking demon and slices across its throat. 

“I still have my own room.” Mira points out. Two demons rush towards her. She kicks one and knocks the other back with her spear. 

“I’ll send Derpy in there.” Rumi jokes, well aware that Mira and Derpy have a playful rivalry of Rumi’s attention going on. The tiger would absolutely block Mira from sleeping in her own bed if Rumi asked him to. He might even do it for fun. 

Mira’s response is cut off as the ground rumbles beneath their feet. The demons have retreated and reformed, a massive creature now attacking with a ferocious roar. 

“Fight now, banter later.” Rumi orders as Mira and Zoey step on either side of her. 

The demon looks like an amalgamation of a monkey and a lion, its head framed with a mane of fire and a sharp tail whipping back and forth menacingly. Its hind legs are bulky with muscle, the front ones slimmer but topped with viscous looking claws. It charges forward with a roar, front paws and tail whipping out. The hunters are forced to dodge, each of them moving in a different direction. Mira and Zoey dash to the sides while Rumi leaps up and over, slicing along the demon’s back as she flips over it. 

The fight that ensues is longer than it needs to be. This demon isn’t as mindless as the ones they normally fight. Despite its massive size, it’s surprisingly nimble. They have to get in close to get any meaningful hit, but the paws and tail make that a difficult task. Rumi flips over a swinging paw but doesn’t manage to make contact with her sword. 

“We need to distract it.” Rumi tells Mira and Zoey. Mira’s weapon has the most reach. If she aims it correctly, she can deal a killing blow from above while Rumi and Zoey distract the demon from below. The plan is quickly put into motion as Mira darts behind a column and then around, using a combination of flips and jumps to get into position. 

It takes three minutes of dodging, jumping, and making small strikes before Mira gets a good enough opening. The demon’s tail whips towards her as she launches herself towards it, the yelp of pain she releases drowned out by the demon’s furious roar. When the demon rears up on its hind legs, Rumi and Zoey both move to strike at its heart from the front. The demon fades from the overworld, the rip in the Honmoon sealing in its wake. Mira lands on her hands and knees, her weapon fading away as her hand reaches for her side. 

“Mira!” Rumi is at her side instantly, Zoey right behind her. Her hand rests against Mira’s back, eyes sweeping over her form in concern. 

“I’m okay.” Mira says, though her grimace leaves room for doubt. “Bastard got in a lucky shot.” 

“Let me see.” Rumi requests gently. Zoey helps Mira to stay steady as Rumi looks at the cut that slices across her stomach. 

The cut isn’t too deep, the blood already beginning to coagulate as a result of their Hunter abilities that enhance healing, but it is a long mark, beginning just above Mira’s left hip and slicing across her stomach to just below her ribs on the right side. It will heal, thankfully, but Rumi worries that it might leave a scar. 

“It’s not bad, just long.” Rumi says. “You’re not going to be doing any more rehearsals today.” 

“At least we have a few days until we have to perform.” Zoey offers comfortingly. Mira groans but lets both Zoey and Rumi help her to her feet. She drapes her arm over Rumi’s shoulders once she’s standing. “I’ll call Bobby.” 

Zoey steps away and presses her phone to her ear. Rumi wraps her arm around Mira’s waist and lets the taller girl lean against her, easily supporting her weight. 

“You’re not gonna make me sleep on the couch, right?” Mira asks. Rumi laughs. 

“Did you honestly think I would?” She asks with a raised brow. 

“Maybe, until you got cold.” Mira shrugs then winces. Rumi smoothes her thumb over Mira’s hip in a soothing motion. Rumi hums softly in reply, neither confirming nor denying Mira’s statement. Neither of them add anything else to the conversation, content to stand there together until Zoey makes her way back over to them. 

“Good news, we don’t even need an excuse for not finishing rehearsals today!” Zoey cheers. “That group that was doing the reunion performance needs extra time to get their act together, so we’re off the hook until tomorrow.” 

“That is great news.” Rumi agrees. 

They make their way back to their tower and pile into the elevator together, idly discussing new song ideas as they go. Zoey moves into the kitchen to get started on an early dinner and Rumi orders Mira to go shower so they can properly bandage the cut on her stomach. Once both tasks are done, she leaves Mira in control of the remote while she helps Zoey with dinner. 

After, when the food has been consumed and the mess from it cleaned up, Rumi and Zoey position themselves on either side of Mira on the couch. Zoey curls against the arm as she normally does, pressing her toes beneath Mira’s thigh. Rumi wraps a gentle arm around Mira’s waist and pulls her close, guiding her head to rest in the crook of Rumi’s neck. Mira hums softly as they settle. 

“That’s usually my job.” She says, tapping her finger against the hand curled over her hip. 

“It’s my turn to take care of you.” Rumi presses her nose into Mira’s hair and breathes her. She feels Mira smile against her neck and hears the rumble of a soft laugh. “What’s so funny?” 

“You made me sleep on the couch after all.” Mira jokes, giggling softly even as her eyes begin to fall closed. Zoey snorts from her place beside them. 

“Behave, or I’ll leave you here after the move is over.” Rumi threatens. Mira only laughs. 

“Nah, you’d never leave me.” She says, with all the confidence of a woman who believes every word she says. Rumi presses her smile to the crown of Mira’s head. 

“No,” she says softly. “I wouldn’t.” 

Mira falls asleep a few minutes into the movie. Rumi doesn’t know how she sleeps through the high speed chase and explosions scenes, but Mira’s breathing remains steady and calm, her body relaxed in Rumi’s embrace. Zoey watches them out of the corner of her eye, sneakily taking a picture of them curled together like puzzle pieces. 

“Not flirting, huh?” 

It had been three days since you’d been taken, and frustratingly, Bucky felt no closer to finding you than the day when he’d first found the ruins of the apartment. He’d moved back into the tower with Alpine, taking up refuge in his old compound apartment. It was kept the same, like he’d never left. And he felt the same as when he’d lived there last – lost.

The whole team had become involved in finding you. You were family to all of them. And no one gets away with fucking with the family of the Avengers.

Bucky sighed and impatiently tapped his foot against the floor as he waited in the meeting room with Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Tony had been working on a reconstruction of what happened in the apartment since the security cameras were somehow turned off before the assailant’s arrival.

It was a planned hit; that much was clear. But they needed the rest of the details of what happened to know what they were looking at.

The room was silent. What could anyone say that hadn’t already been said? Bucky’s friends had already assured him they’d get you back safely, but those were empty promises said just to stop him from throwing himself off the top of the compound.

Bucky stared at the blank white wall ahead of him while his mind spiralled. This was his fault. If you were dead, that blood was on his hands. He should have known of the threat – had some inkling that this was coming. But he was completely blind-sighted. There was no indication that there was an incoming attack.

“Move the table to the side so we have room,” Tony commanded as he entered, his usual quips missing – quips that always made you laugh and smile, brightening the room with your aura.

“Hello to you too, Tony,” Sam said, assisting Bucky and Steve in pushing the meeting room table to the side so there was some floor space for Tony’s visualisation tool.

“Do you think she’s alive? Could she have survived the attack?” Were the first words out of Bucky’s mouth, his voice strained from the amount of crying he’d been doing.

“Yeah, I think she’s alive. Are you sure you want to see this, Barnes? It’s… It’s pretty brutal, even for your standards,” Tony sniped, earning a stern look from Steve. Bucky didn’t care, though; it was a fair enough jab when he’d been the one to kill Tony’s parents.

“Real smooth, Tony,” Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms.

Bucky set the awkward air aside. They weren’t going to get anywhere otherwise. “I need to see it.”

“Maybe you should wait outside, Buck—” Steve started, but Bucky raised his hand to shut him up.

“Don’t coddle me. I need to see it.”

Steve just put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze while Tony set up his small projection device.

Nothing could have prepared Bucky for the image that greeted him. There you were, or at least, an apparition of you. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but he held himself back. What he couldn’t stop were the tears that welled in his eyes. What if this was the last time he ever saw you? You already looked like a ghost in the odd blue hue of the technology.

Bucky gulped, his breaths coming out thick as you started moving from the bedroom to the shower. It played out like a macabre movie. Three assailants entered the apartment through the front door.

“They had keys?” Natasha asked, and Tony nodded in response.

Sam partially looked away when the assault began, Natasha and Steve’s faces hardening while Bucky had tears tracking down his cheeks. You fought hard, and Bucky couldn’t feel any prouder. You were his light – his fire, and you fought with every morsel of energy you had.

Tony was right – the ordeal was brutal and cruel. These men didn’t just kidnap you; they tormented you. This was personal.

“Any forensics?” Steve asked, his voice shaky.

“None. Whoever they are, they’re professionals,” Tony leant against the table. “And they clearly have a vendetta. Any enemies that stand out, Barnes?”

“Hydra is always top of the list.” Just the mention of the name had everyone in the room shuddering. Hydra had already done so much damage.

“Hydra fell when S.H.I.E.L.D did. They’re gone,” Sam reclined against the wall, hand rubbing nervously over his jaw, the same spot Rumlow had got a good hit on him during their fight at the Triskelion.

“You’re naive if you think that would get rid of them.” Natasha walked up to the projection, zooming in on the word you’d written on the ground. Blonde. “Although I don’t remember any of our known enemies being blonde.”

“Pierce was blonde.” Steve suggested.

Tony shook his head. “He was grey. And I highly doubt he’d be breaking into an apartment, seeing as he’s got a bullet-sized hole in his chest. Plus, he was an old fucker.”

Bucky forced himself to watch the whole recreation, eyes not straying for a moment as he searched for anything he was missing. It was a carefully executed but merciless attack. Tony was right; it seemed you’d survive physically, but what about your mind?

Bucky could hardly bear to think about what they were doing with you now they had you alone.

With you passed out on the floor, Bucky watched as the men bundled you up in a sheet to carry your bloody mess of a body out in. “There were no drag marks?”

Tony shrugged. “Nope. They carried her.” 

“Did no neighbours report anything?”

“It was early morning, so most had already left for work, and anyone who did see something aren’t coming forward. People these days aren’t keen on being a snitch since that puts a target on their backs,” Sam delivered sadly. To a degree, Bucky understood, but at the same time, he wanted to question every person in the damn building.

Realistically, his efforts would be better placed searching through viable intelligence sources. The more reliable the information, the better. These guys would have had to make some noise somewhere, and Bucky intended to find where.

“I’ll ask Maria to get the analysts onto where they might have gone. They’ll check every car that was spotted in the area if they have to. And we’ll see what we can get off the surrounding cell towers. If we’re lucky, they pinged off one of them. They can’t have just disappeared with her,” Natasha’s voice turned clinical. It was easier to be strategic without the emotional strings attached.

Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Check all private flights and airspace as well. I expect they’ve left the country and gone somewhere harder to track. The fact they went to this effort and didn’t kill her outright means they have a use for her, which means she’s still alive.”

“Until that use runs out,” Bucky cut Steve off, his jaw twinging with how hard he clenched his teeth. “Then they’ll kill her.”

“We’ll find her before then, Buck.”

“We have to. She’s taken my heart with her.”

You’d been lucky in your life that you’d been sheltered from physical pain. You’d known grief, sadness, all the usual trials of life. But this level of absolute anguish was new. 

You were thankful you’d gone this long not knowing what it felt like to fear an impending death.

What even was death? An endless nothing? A light at the end of the tunnel? A world where you’re reunited with all those souls that had already left? Either way, it was the cessation of suffering. You can’t suffer when you don’t exist. 

Days had passed since your capture, and a routine had set in. In your dank, mossy-smelling cell, you ate, stretched, slept, shit, and brushed your teeth - a macabre rinse and repeat that had your mind dulling. You prided yourself in being creative, so having no stimuli apart from grey walls and odd smells was a special kind of torture.

Your captors left you alone for the most part. You only saw them when they delivered meals and your toothbrush, and even then, sometimes, they’d just slide the items through a small hatch in the bottom of the door, expecting you to return the items promptly.

Damien or Maddox would often leave with some snide remark, while Kage never said anything.

The thought of fighting back had crossed your mind, although you couldn’t do much with them watching, the blinking red light of a camera in the corner of your room a constant reminder that you were not alone.

Bucky would be closing in by now, right? Each time you heard steps coming to your enclosure, a morsel of hope would flourish like a blooming flower. And each time, those beautiful flowers had their heads sliced off. The disappointment was clear on your face each time, and a small whine would escape, normally ending in you devolving into a pit of tears.

Crying was the only solace. 

As the days had passed, you began to fear the opening of the door, because you expected death with his scythe and billowing black mist to be there waiting to cut off your head, like the way your hope had been deflowered.

Today was the same as all the others. Pain, tears, and acute loneliness all present. You sat on your cot with your legs to your chest, bandaged feet resting on the mattress so you could cry against your knees. Your wounds were healing slowly, bloody bandages changed by Kage each day, while your heart continued to break.

The wall vibrated subtly as music began playing upstairs, the reverberations traveling all the way down to your cell. You were underground, that much you had gathered. After your dinner, you would hear the music begin to play. You weren’t sure what they were doing up there, but you never heard any additional voices, so you assumed your captors were alone. Although, there could easily be a thick layer of concrete separating your roof from their floor, so you just might not be able to hear it.

All you did know was the music normally meant it was time to try and sleep. You had no sunlight, so you had to rely on the meals and music as your clock. You could have an opposite sleeping schedule for all you knew, but the men never said anything of it, so you assumed your intuition was right.

With a heavy sigh, you lay down, covered in an oversized t-shirt and cotton panties. It was cold, but with nothing more than a thin blanket, so you had no choice but to shiver and bear it.

The vibrations in the wall made a white noise that filled the room, and you preferred that over the silence. You couldn’t hear the music, so you liked to try to imagine what song it might be based on the tempo. 

You smiled to yourself as you placed your hand against the wall. Whatever it was, you knew Bucky would hate it. Deep bass beats were never his style. While you liked to imagine your boyfriend as John Wick, fighting along to electronic music, you knew the reality was far more grim. 

Thinking of Bucky, your eyes started to get heavy, and you slowly fell asleep.

It wasn’t a peaceful slumber, but it was rest - something you tried to get every chance you could. You didn’t know when you’d need your strength, so you tried to reserve it. 

And as it turned out, a situation requiring your strength was around the corner much sooner than you had expected.

The door to your cell swung open, and the loud sound had you shooting up with a squeak and wide eyes, no remnants of sleep in your mind as adrenaline surged through your veins. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight you’d be met with.

It was Damien who spoke first as they entered. “We caught ourselves a new pet. I have to say, this one seems much less fuckable than you.”

“Bucky,” you gasped, mostly in disbelief.

It wasn’t the rescue you’d dreamed of. Bucky hadn’t come in guns blazing and a smile of relief on his face.

No, Bucky was slumped, his metal shoulder being carried by Maddox and the other by Damien, while his legs dragged across the floor behind him and his arms were secured behind his back. He was dressed in his tactical gear like he’d come with the intention to save you. His face was bloodied and ashen, his hair sickly sticking to his forehead, and to your horror, there was a muzzle placed over the lower half of his face. You’d seen a picture of Bucky from when he was a soldier when you’d accidentally walked into a briefing room in the compound, his face scattered among others you didn’t recognise. But seeing him like that in the flesh was something else entirely.

You jumped up from the bed, ready to run to him, but Kage was by your side before you could act. He placed his hand on your collarbone, warning you to stay in place. “Your face is priceless.”

You couldn’t even feel the pain in your feet, as if the wounds were never there, as you whimpered at the sight of your lover.

“Bucky, are you alright? Bucky. Oh god.” You tried to move, but Kage’s hand gripped your forearm painfully, his digits digging in and leaving divots. Bucky tried to speak beneath the mask, but only muffled sounds came out. “No, please, don’t hurt him.”

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” Maddox grinned, the pride clear as day on his face. “The mutt put up a fight, I’ll give it that. But it failed. That must really suck for you.”

They spoke like he wasn’t even a man. Not even a dog. Just an annoyance - a hindrance.

Damien and Maddox dumped Bucky on his knees a few steps from you. And that’s when he finally looked up. It was like he hadn’t wanted to accept that was your voice he heard, but once he set eyes on you, that was it. 

The dams broke, and both of you resolved into tears. “No, this isn’t real. This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening.” Damien kicked Bucky’s back, sending him lurching forward, his cheek painfully hitting the concrete floor. The pained sounds that came from your boyfriend would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Stop it!” You yelled, Bucky’s whimpers too much for you to handle. He was trying so desperately to speak, to move, but they’d beaten him badly and secured his metal arm away with vibranium cuffs. 

It didn’t stop him from trying though. Bucky rose to his feet, swinging his weight around so he could roundhouse kick towards Maddox and Damien. Maddox was faster though, pushing Damien out of the way and catching Bucky’s leg. 

There was a sick crunch when Maddox tripped Bucky’s stable left leg, his body buckling to the floor while Maddox held his right leg, allowing the joint at his hip to fold into an odd position before Bucky hit the floor on his side. He withered with a pained groan, while Damien took the chance to kick him in the stomach. It was like watching the most morbid film play out in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold Bucky and tell him it was going to be okay. But the thing was, you never lied to him. And you had no plan to start now.

You tried desperately to wrench yourself from Kage’s grip, but instead he yanked your back to his chest, placing his arm across your belly so you were held uncomfortably against him. “He failed you. Do you think he still thinks this is all worth it? Or do you think he should have just left you to rot?” 

It was the most Kage had ever spoken to you, as if Bucky’s mere presence brought out a vitriol he kept hidden.

You shook your head, desperate to reject the baseless accusations. Even with his mouth covered, you could see in his expression alone the love Bucky held for you. You would never stop believing in him, even in death. “He hasn’t failed me,“ you gritted out, tears tracking down your cheeks. “He could never fail me.”

A sense of realisation took over you, the cogs turning as you looked upon your beaten lover. You’d wished for him to rescue you, to take you away from the pain and shield you from any further torment. But in doing so, you’d denied that Bucky was vulnerable - that he was the human you so dearly loved - made of flesh and blood and so dearly mortal. By placing him on the pedestal of a hero, you denied him his sensitivities, his feelings. You’d made him impuissant through your view of him as an impregnable force. You forgot that he is but a thing of atoms and material, so easily broken.

It was due to your expectations that he lay on the ground before you, bleeding and crying. Because he knew you were waiting for him. And here he was - just not in the way you had hoped. Now, hope was but a bird with broken wings, ready for death and the conclusion of existence. It was time for it to be put out of its acute misery. And it was time for you to mature and take responsibility for your future. 

“The only person who can save me is myself. It’s my path to take, not his,” your words came out shuddered, your hand raising to cover your mouth to try and hide your sob. It did little to muffle the sound as your eyes met the familiar cerulean blues. “Bucky. It’s fine.”

Damien pulled the muzzle from his face, and Bucky allowed a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in hours. “You have me, just let her go.”

Maddox laughed, shaking his head as he ruffled Bucky’s hair. “Trying to be noble, huh?” His fingers looped in the sweat-drenched strands, roughly pulling Bucky’s head back as he whimpered. “Do we look like we’re going to let her go?”

“She’s innocent in this, please,” Bucky begged, blood trickling down from his hairline as he squirmed on the cold floor. It was a painful, pitiful sight. “Keep me, but let her go.”

“Why would we when we can have some fun? She’s so pretty when she cries. The perfect toy for us to play with,” Kage husked, the hand on your stomach starting to dip lower towards your dignity.

You slapped his hand, an action which gained you a violent response. Kage threw you to your knees, the impact causing your bones to quiver and your cries to fill the room. You had to be strong, you had to be strong - the mantra didn’t help much as Bucky snarled protectively. “You touch her, and I’ll fucking kill you. I swear I’ll–”

“You keep running that mouth of yours, and it’s her we’ll punish,” Maddox gripped Bucky’s chin between his fingers, before spitting in his face.

“Please, I’m begging you. She’s just a normal girl, she’s innocent–”

“She’s not going to be so innocent when she has our cocks shoved down her throat.” Damien approached you, eyes raking your barely covered form. You stunk after days of not bathing, but that seemed like the least of their concerns.

“I can see why you picked her. She’s so much fun to have around.” Maddox forced Bucky’s viewline to you, arching his head on an awkward angle with the fingers tangled in his locks.

“You don’t own her,” Bucky rasped. “No one does.”

Maddox hummed with a shake of his head. ”That’s where you’re wrong. We all have our masters. Now we’re hers.”

"I will fucking kill you," Bucky snarled, trying to get off the floor, trying so desperately to fight. But he was easily subdued by Maddox in his weakened state.

Damien turned to your boyfriend with a smirk. "Not before we fill up each of her holes. So why don't you sit back and enjoy the show? Be a good boy now. Wouldn't want to have to muzzle you… again."

"We're going to enjoy breaking her," Maddox teased, his face getting close to Bucky’s, a staring contest of will beginning between the two. A contest that Bucky quickly lost when Maddox punched him in the gut. ”While you have your own appeal, I don’t fuck mutts.”

It was hard to process the scene playing out in front of you - the taunting, the threats, the hurt. It was too much to bear. You just wanted to be in Bucky’s arms again and have him tell you it was all okay.

But no, you had to be strong. “Please, don’t hurt him anymore. I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want.”

Kage held you firm, his free hand reaching up from behind to grab your jaw painfully. He didn’t speak, but you could feel his hot huff of breath against your ear, the remnants of a growl in it.

“You’ll do whatever we want regardless,” Damien commented, searching your face and soaking up all the emotion he could find.

Maddox left Bucky battered on the ground, but not without one more kick, this time to the underside of his jaw. Bucky’s head snapped back, a crack sounding as his teeth slammed together in the forced movement. 

You screamed, Kage and Damien’s hands beginning to roam across your body, feeling you like you were theirs. But it was like you couldn’t even see the three men anymore - just Bucky. Your vision had tunnelled to the focus on the one thing you cared about.

“Bucky! Are you alright? Bucky, please!” You couldn’t look away as his head lolled sickly, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. 

The hands keep moving over you, nausea roiling in your gut with each passing moment. But you still only focussed on Bucky. “Bucky, please. Bucky. You’ve got to get out of here. Somehow. Just go, please.”

The cell door was cracked open. He could logically make a run for it. But you knew he wouldn’t, not in his current state, and not without you. Maybe Steve was on his way? But you knew Bucky wouldn’t look so crestfallen if help was coming. 

“Please, Bucky.” You cried, not even sure what you were asking for at this point, all you could do was scream his name.

The more you yelled for him, the more you chanted his name like the only prayer you knew, the more the world began to warble. 

Bucky’s form began to waver, as did the rest of the room. Maddox, Damien and Kage had frozen in their assault, their skin rippling as your breath suddenly fell short.

What was happening? You couldn’t scream for Bucky anymore - you couldn’t do anything, as if your mouth had been glued shut.

As your tears fell and sobs bubbled from your throat, the world dissolved.

The nightmare was ending, allowing leeway for the real horrors to become apparent.

You woke for real this time with a jolt, your sounds muffled by the tape over your lips. You were sobbing just like you had been in your dream, and as you took stock of the room you quickly realised Bucky wasn’t here. It had been a horrible nightmare.

What was real, was Maddox towering over you, a roll of tape discarded on the ground and his gun to your head. He looked the angriest you’d ever seen, salivating and almost frothing at the mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The tears started falling faster as you screamed against the tape, but it did little to quell Maddox. He forced each end of the tape down, the gun in his hand coldly pressing against your cheek. 

“Say his name again, I dare you. I'm not going to cut your tongue out. I'll fucking rip it out,” he growled, his words mouthed against your face and over your bound lips. His spit smeared over your skin, the heat of it warming where the metal of the gun had cooled.

All you could smell, see and hear was him. It was an overwhelming sensation that had you wanting to escape.

You writhed, but you couldn’t get away from him as he caged you in, kissing over your mouth again in a show of control, not endearment. He could take what he wanted from you whenever he wanted. You screamed and squirmed, but Maddox held you in place before ripping the tape off, allowing you to finally breathe in the musky basement air. “This fucking mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

“W-What did I—“ Your heart nearly broke through your ribcage with how hard it was beating as Maddox forced the barrel of his handgun into your mouth, the metal sitting against your tongue and leaving a horrible taste. 

The struggle stopped, and you looked into Maddox’s eyes. The malice was pertifying. It wasn’t the same look he’d had during the assault in your apartment; no. It was worse. He was going to kill you.

His thumb moved in one swift motion to click the safety off, his finger resting on the trigger. “Say goodbye.”

You closed your eyes, fear clutching your heart and what felt like concrete in your lungs. You didn’t want Maddox’s face to be the last thing you saw, so you thought of when you and Bucky had adopted Alpine.

She had been found on the streets as a stray, only a year old with matted hair and a little injured paw. You’d both fallen in love with her, and nursed her into the ball of chaotic floof she was today. You thought of the moment where you first brought her home. She stayed in her carrier after the door had opened, too scared to venture out. So you and Bucky sat on the floor, cuddling and talking while Alpine slowly came out, before sitting next to you both. It was so peaceful. Such a small moment changed the trajectory of your life. It was those pockets of happiness you cherished the most.

You waited for the bang, the flash, the quick pain before the nothingness. But it didn’t come.

Instead, you heard rushed steps and yells before Maddox was hauled off you, the brunette slipping the safety back on as he let the other two pull him back. 

“What the fuck?” Damien snapped, a commotion starting.

But it was like water was in your ears as you stared up at the ceiling from your bed, the chain secured around your ankle rattling with the way your body couldn’t stop shaking. Your arms covered your torso, and it took you what felt like forever to open your eyes.

“She was calling for him! For that bastard!” Maddox yelled, and it was then you turned your head to look at him.

“What, so you were going to kill her? Mads! Stop! We just got her!” Damien grabbed Maddox by the shoulders, shaking him like it would bring him to his senses.

"One simple fucking rule. Don't ask to go back to him. She was wailing like a fucking banshee."

Kage was the only controlled one, ushering Damien out of the way so he could take Maddox’s face into his hands. “You’re not back there. You’re not being compared to him, not being tested on. Stop. You’re here, and you almost just killed her.”

“She. Called. For. Him,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.

Damien glanced over at you, and it made you curl a little closer to the wall. "She didn't mean to, Mads. You know she didn't. Just breathe. Come on.”

It didn’t stop Maddox from spitting on the ground, his breaths coming out in adrenaline fueled shudders. “That piece of shit. I bet he bragged to her. I bet she fucking knows everything he did and is playing stupid.” With Kage holding him, his sightline turned to you. ”You’re pretending like you have no idea what he’s done, aren’t you? You dumb fucking bitch!”

“You know that’s not what’s happening,” Kage quickly reasoned with Maddox’s face still between his palms. It was clear there was a brother-like bond between the three of them. It would be nice, if the context of the situation didn’t exist. If anything, it made you more scared of them.

The fear had your body feeling frail, and it took you a few tries before you could sit up on your cot. “W-Whatever I did… I’m sorry. I don’t k-know what’s happening.”

Even you were caught off guard with the weakness in your voice, but the apology did nothing to appease Maddox. In fact, it incited the flame again. He broke free of Kage’s hold, and you didn’t have time to defend yourself before he smacked you hard across the face, the sound resonating like a sick echo in the cell.

The pain came a few seconds later, a sharp sting spreading across your face as you sobbed.

“You fucking bitch. You think this is funny, don’t you? Playing the innocent act just so you can fucking laugh at me once I’m gone.” He was trying to goad you into something you weren’t. You wore no mask, obscured no part of yourself. You were just you. And in a world where so many people lied and deceived, you could understand where the line of thought had come from. But Maddox couldn’t be more wrong about you.

What was it he had against Bucky anyway? There was clearly history you were missing, some big piece of the puzzle that had been hidden.

You didn’t get a chance to respond before Damien was tugging him back, taking the gun from him and pulling him away. “Mads, you’re triggered. That’s enough. You’re not yourself.”

For a moment, you could swear there were unshed tears in Maddox’s eyes, but didn’t get the chance to tell before Damien had pulled him from the room, leaving you alone with Kage.

There was a long silence for a moment, just your cries as your hand rested on your throbbing cheek, with Kage standing by in thought. He looked to you, his icy stare not helping you calm down. “I’m going to have to punish you.”

You could still hear Maddox yelling as you rubbed your cheek, and when Maddox’s voice finally faded you curled your knees up to your chest, your sobs shaking you. Maddox would have killed you if they hadn’t intervened, but now you were going to be punished. It was cruel. “What did I do?”

“You broke a rule. You called for him. Subconscious or not, every part of you has to learn the consequences.” Kage rolled up his sleeves, crossing his arms. It was clear his conviction was settled, and there would be no point bartering. “First, you’re going to shower. You’ve pissed yourself.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes when you looked down and realised Kage wasn’t lying. The sheets stuck uncomfortably to your legs and panties, the hem of your shirt soaked. You weren’t even sure when it happened, having been so caught up in the nightmare and then Maddox’s rage. Your fingers gripped the edge of the mattress, head hanging so you didn’t have to look at Kage.

Part of you wasn’t even sure if you were humiliated. They’d stripped you so bare you didn’t have much left, not even the dignity that would be hurt from something like this. More than anything, you cursed yourself for not being braver.

You had to hold your own if you were going to survive.

Words failed you when Kage took your arm to stand you up, and you didn’t say a word as he released your chains started to lead you from the room. 

It was a slow walk as you hobbled on your injured feet, but it was clear Kage had no intention of carrying you as he walked a few steps ahead. He’d let go of his hold, so confident that you’d follow him that he didn’t even look back. You knew he’d overpower you without even breaking a sweat if you tried anything, and you didn’t have the energy to fight.

You were surprised to see the underground was more than just your room, with a small hallway connecting you to a large shower room. You assumed there must be more cells, because there were multiple shower heads and a few random lockers. Almost as if it was a prisoner gym shower. It was odd, and you cautiously stepped forward.

Kage just ushered you towards the shower, crossing his arms as he watched you limp onto the tiled surface. You went to take off your bandages, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. Flustered, you moved to your shirt and underwear instead, turning away from him as you stripped bare and dumped the soiled clothing on the floor.

You cautiously stepped forward to turn the shower on, shuddering when the cold water began pouring out. There was only one tap, and no indication that the water was getting warmer, so you turned back to your captor. “There’s no hot water?”

There was no response from Kage, just a stare that told you all you needed to know, as if he was silently saying ‘get on with it’.

You shivered as you stood under the cold stream. When the water washed over your face, it was like you were back in your apartment all over again, and you let out a panicked gasp before stepping back.

The way your body shook wasn’t only from the cold.

With a bated breath, you glanced back at Kage. But he was no closer. He wasn’t going to pull you out, going to attack you, it seemed. The danger still loomed, memories of your assault fresh in your mind.

You returned to the water, washing yourself off as you could feel Kage’s gaze burning into you, as if he was studying each of your movements. He finally moved when the water shut itself off, pointing to a grey towel that was the same dull colour as the rest of the basement.

The last remaining water droplets blinked from your vision as you stepped forward, taking the towel and beginning to dry off. You glanced around, frowning when you saw there were no fresh clothes. 

“Uhm… clothes?” You asked hopefully, to which Kage shook his head. It wasn’t surprising, but it was upsetting.

As you ran the towel across your skin, you couldn’t rid of the nagging question that was plaguing your mind. “Why didn’t you just let him kill me?”

“He doesn’t need the guilt,” Kage finally spoke, but his answer only made your brows furrow.

“Why would he feel guilty for getting rid of someone who doesn’t matter?” It was conflicting information. They’d said you were nothing while in your apartment, and had treated you as such. But of course, you weren’t given an answer. Instead, Kage began leading you back to your room, your waterlogged bandages making it hard to walk. “What’s my punishment?”

Kage doesn’t answer, instead leaving you alone in your cell. “Strip the bed. I’ll be back.”

You gently rubbed your cheek where Maddox slapped you as you stared at the open door. You could run, but that would just worsen the situation. And you were in no condition to make it far.

Your gaze shifted to the blinking red light in the corner, staring into the black lens before snapping out of it and beginning to strip the bed as you were told. You kept replaying the events in your head, but it just didn’t make sense. You didn’t know why Maddox was so furious, and why Kage and Damien stopped him before he did any real damage. There was clearly something you were missing, but you were too fatigued to notice.

You used the sheets to soak up any remaining moisture from the mattress, which was covered with some sort of dark waterproof fabric. Unsure of what else to do, you placed the sheets by the bed.

With the sheets on the floor, you sat next to them on the cold concrete, waiting until Kage came back in with fresh bedding. He held it out to you, waiting for you to approach him with an air of impatience. You hoped your punishment was a simple as making the bed, but you knew you were in for worse at the hands of these men. 

It didn’t take Kage commanding you to put the fresh sheets on the bed, his eyes not leaving you for a moment. He let out a hum when you finished, before taking a seat. “Come here.”

You let out a shaky breath before you approached him. There was something so ominous about the blue shine to his eyes, like a full moon bearing its magnetic energy onto you. You couldn’t help but feel pulled towards him, like your legs moved before you could even think. When you got close enough, Kage took your wrist into his grip. There was a beat of silence for a moment before he yanked you down. You yelped as you fell, your stomach hitting his thighs as he bent you over his knees. It was a humiliating position. As if they hadn’t caused you enough shame.

As naked as the day you were born, you lay across his legs, your ass raised, and shoulders slumped. There was no escape. You were under no illusion that there was no way you could reasonably get out without help. And without Bucky, or any of your friends, you were stuck.

You felt as if you hadn’t slept at all, and tiredness nipped at the back of your eyes as you resigned yourself in his lap. He seemed pleased, a near silent grunt sounding as he rubbed circles over the globes of your ass.

When the first slap landed, you yelped, a sharp pain on your ass from the impact of his palm.

“One.” You heard him count under his breath, before the second spank hit. “Two.” Tears gathered in your eyes, small droplets hitting the ground below as the third hit landed. “Three.”

“Why?” You croaked out. “Why are you doing this?”

“Four.” Kage uttered, another slap hitting you and causing your body to jolt. Four. The counting continued despite your pleas, the pain worsening with each hit. He wasn’t holding back, and the pain began to elevate to the point where you felt as if your bones may shatter. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Please, I don’t understand. I’m sorry- I’m s-sorry I said his name. But I didn’t do it on purpose,” your words are mottled with sobs, and you turned back to look at him despite the way you had coiled around his thighs. “I don’t understand. Why do you hate him?”

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

Kage’s icy glare met yours. In just a look alone he conveyed so much emotion, far more than words could ever express. There was anger and hurt all broiled up in a stew of self-pity. Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine. His spanks didn’t stop, not even when your cries resounded off the walls like a ghoulish orchestra, your begs garbled with the agony coursing through you.

“Thirty,” he coldly said, his hand once against slapping against your abused ass. When he brought up his hand for another hit, he stopped. On his palm was little dots of blood. You whimpered at the sight of it, and his eyes narrowed. He’d been hitting you so hard he’d broken skin with the impact.

“Please, why? What’s going on?” You lamented, growing weary of his silence. “Just tell me. Why do you hate him? What did he do?”

Kage hit you again, more aggressive this time. You howled in pain as he held you still. His breaths came out in a huff as he calmed himself down. “Don’t act dumb. You’re his girlfriend. You know what he’s done.”

“I don’t!” You rebutted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Kage’s steel blue eyes flashed with something dangerous, his hand rubbing circles on your skin and smearing your blood across your flesh. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You were genuine, and Kage’s eyes narrowed as he considered you. “I’m sure you did some research before taking me. I’m just a girl.”

”What, your boyfriend didn’t brag of the lives he ruined? How he ruined our lives. We’re orphaned freaks because of him. Because the Asset couldn’t just do his fucking mission. But he had no problem doing his job just fine when he trained us, when he beat us to a bloody pulp making us wish were dead. Over and over and over again. Hydra’s fist hits fucking hard. And he leaves behind nothing but lost souls.” It’s the most you’ve heard Kage speak, but what he’s saying makes no sense to you. “The Asset doesn’t care about the wreckage he leaves behind as long as he’s happy – as long as he can continue on with his pathetic life.”

Bucky ruined lives? The surprise and confusion on your face said it all. From what you knew, he didn’t do anything. He was a prisoner of war, he was a soldier, but his involvement with Hydra was news to you. The most you’d heard of the organisation was from reports when the triskelion fell. It was broadcast everywhere. “He didn’t tell me anything. I only know who Hydra are from the news.”

Kage let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "Stop lying."

"I'm not! I swear. He never told me. He doesn't tell anything about his missions either. H-He said he couldn't. That it was safer that way." You remembered the first time Bucky came home from a mission. He was covered in soot and a mess. Being naive, you asked him what happened, and it was then you realised it was better for you not to know. The horrors of the world were not for your eyes… until now.

Kage’s fingers gripped into the plushness of your ass. ”But you’ve been to the compound.”

“As a guest - a friend. Never when a mission was happening.” You sobbed, your brain spinning in circles at the new revelations. “I’ve been there for dinner or parties. Nothing else.”

His nails made divots in your skin as he gripped you. "You really had no idea?"

"No, I didn't. And I'm sorry. For all of you," you hiccupped. You couldn't lie about that. Losing family is never easy. "I didn't know."

Kage didn’t seem convinced. ”But you know of Hydra?”

You shrugged best you could over his knee. “Sort of. N-Not really. I just saw the news when those big helicopter things crashed - uh, helicarriers?” You let out a shuddered sigh. “The news said Hydra was behind it.”

His fingers eased, moving to rub over the sensitised skin. ”Did you read the documents that were leaked?”

You shook your head, tears dropping to the floor. “No, why would I do that? I didn’t need an existential crisis. I get stressed enough about everyday news, like a mugger or a cat stuck in a tree.”

"So he kept you in a bubble," he said after a moment, more to himself than to you. "If you're lying—"

"I'm not," you promised, almost dissolving into more tears. "I swear to you. All of you. I have no reason to lie to you."

There was a beat of silence while your mind ran a million miles an hour. Bucky was a prisoner of war, you knew that – the world knew that. But… he was with Hydra? You pursed your lips. There was no way he would have been with them willingly. He was a prisoner of Hydra, you surmised. He’d made comments in the past about never being in control until now – always being ordered around by someone else. Admittedly, you hadn’t taken it as literal. A soldier takes orders, but this – this seems entirely different. There’s no way Bucky would hurt someone unprovoked, not unless he was being controlled. The man you loved was no villain.

Kage broke the silence. ”Do you resent him for not telling you?”

A heavy sigh left you, pain still flickering up your spine from your abused ass. “It’s his story. I’m not the one who can decide when it’s time to tell it.”

"But he's the reason you're here,” Kage said as his hand ran up your back before reaching your shoulders, pulling you up and guiding you to sit in his lap.

You whimpered at the pressure on your bruised skin as you sat on Kage’s thighs. "Better me than another innocent person."

Kage’s face was close to yours, his breath fanning across your skin. ”You wouldn’t trade places with someone else?”

You tried to move back, to get some distance, but Kage held you firm. “No. I couldn’t bring myself to subject someone else to this kind of pain.”

He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes. "You don't like others hurting, do you?"

The question surprised you. "No, I don't. I've always tried to help others if I can."

Your answer has the air in the room changing, some of the coldness turning a bit warmer as Kage brushed away some of your tears. Your blood was still on his hands, and you eyed the redness of his fingers as he touched your face.

A tremble coursed through you when you heard footsteps approaching, and your attention turned to the doorway, where Damien emerged with a salve, some wipes and fresh clothes.

His expression had changed too. Where there was anger was now a new understanding. They really thought you knew what they’d been through, you realised. You glanced between the two men, uncomfortable and distressed. Their anger was ruthless, but you feared whatever this was more. Kage’s hands over your waist were firm, but with an edge of gentleness.

You didn’t want them to like you.

Maybe you should have just lied and said you knew. But that wasn’t you. You weren’t deceptive.

Kage lifted you easily, placing you face down on your cot, your face wetting the fresh sheets below you as you cried. The overstimulation of your body and mind hit like a freight train, and you sobbed like never before.

“Jesus, try to calm down. You’ll make yourself sick,” Damien tried to placate as he sat next to you, wiping away your blood before beginning to apply some ointment to your battered skin. “You really did a number, Kage.”

You glance over at the blonde, and he didn’t seem proud of himself. Quite the opposite. His jaw clenched. “Shut up.”

“Hey hey, I’m just trying to break the tension here.” Damien kept applying the ointment until your welts were covered. “You took your punishment well.”

You think he’s trying to compliment you, so you respond with your head buried in the sheets. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he quickly responded before finishing up.

Your mournful cries didn’t stop, and they only got worse when Kage and Damien finally left, leaving you alone. You dressed yourself in the plain tshirt and panties, before it all became too much and returned to the bed.

All your bottled-up emotions spilled out into the mattress. You screamed, your sounds muffled by the bedding, not stopping until your throat hurt and your voice was course.

The more emotion you let out, the more fatigued you became. And slowly, you began to pass out, crying yourself to sleep. All you could hope was this sleep was more restful, and less eventful than the last.

Thankfully, you didn’t dream this time. Your rest was no more than a limbo between horrors – horrors which seemed very intent on continuing, with Maddox stood with his arms crossed, watching you slumber as he leaned against the open doorframe. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You nearly jumped through the ceiling in fright at the sight of him, your whole body flinching as you sat up, your bruised ass instantly sore from the movement. “You didn’t.”

“Good.” He tilted his head, the anger he’d been sporting gone behind his normal demure expression. “So, I had a chat with the guys. Look, we thought you knew all about us. And now we realise you really are innocent in all this. We feel a bit bad about the whole situation, so we’re going to let you go home.”

It sounded like a foreign language as Maddox spoke, your heart skipping a beat. “You’re going to let me go?”

“Seems only fair. I think we’ve put you through enough,” Maddox shrugged nonchalantly.

“But you were so angry,” you cautiously observed Maddox. It felt like a trick, and it likely was one, but you couldn’t help the desire that smouldered in your heart. You could go home. More than anything you just desired to be comfortable in your own bed again, with your cat and the love of your life.

Maddox pushed himself off the doorframe and approached, the movement making you shuffle back on the mattress. He chuckled, shaking his head at your scurrying. “I have no intent of hurting you.”

“Surely you can’t blame me for being afraid,” you squeaked as he towered over you.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve given you more than enough reason. But here, truce?” Maddox offered his open palm for you to take, to help you stand. You stared at his hand for a moment, taking in the scarred skin. It looked like he held the sharp end of a knife more than once. They weren’t kidding about having been through pain.

Anxiety was a thick sludge in your throat as you placed your hand in his, allowing him to be a crutch for you as you got onto your feet. Your entire backside hurt like something fierce with each movement, but you tried to not show it too much on your face.

“Kage really let you have it, huh?” Maddox grinned, leading you out of the door and to the left, where Kage and Damien stood at the bottom of concrete stairs.

“Ready to go home?” Kage said as Damien took your free hand in his.

“Yes,” you blurted out honestly. “Are you… are you really going to let me go?”

“Of course. We may be assholes, but we’re not liars,” Damien chided, the warmth from his skin heating your hand.

“What about Bu– I mean, my boyfriend?” You questioned, making wobbly steps up the stairs towards what looked to be a basement door. Your suspicions were right - you were underground.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him. That’s our business to attend to,” Maddox grinned, but it was akin to a shark showing their teeth. There was danger in the way he spoke.

Distracted, you missed a step, but they were quick to catch you, all giving out a soft laugh before you made your way to the top of the stairs.

You had guessed that you were underground. What you hadn’t expected was that you were under a house. You emerged into an open-plan living room and kitchen with a rustic aesthetic. 

“Do you like it?” Damien asked proudly. Clearly, he owned this place.

“... It’s nice.” You placated, taking your hand out of both Maddox and Damien’s grip. “I can.. just go?”

“Yes. Off you go. There’s a car outside waiting for you,” Damien said, and you could feel the soft rumble of a running engine through the floorboards.

You glanced back at the men, each of them looking expectantly at you. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before you turned around and bolted for the front door, despite your body hating every moment. Your feet were still healing, and with your bruised muscles, it was torture. But you wanted out. No, you needed out.

You reached the front door quickly, and when you turned the knob, your eyes went wide. It was locked tight. There were multiple bolts on the door, which all seemed unlocked, but when you looked down, you realised the front door had a finger scanner. 

Reality began to set in when you placed your finger on the door and were met with a red flash and beeping. Access denied. “No... No, no, no. Not like this.”

You went to turn, but before you could, there was a sharp prick to your neck as one of the men plunged a needle into you. It became clear Maddox was your assailant as your legs went numb, and you tumbled to the ground with a gasp, seeing him standing behind you with dark eyes. Whatever the contents of the syringe were acted quickly, an odd floaty feeling spreading across your body as you lost control of your functions, your body stuck on its front on the cold hardwoods.

Their laughter became distorted as your brain fizzled, but you didn’t pass out. No, whatever they’d given you was keeping you awake, forced to watch as they circled your limp body. “She made it further than I thought she would with her injuries,” Damien smirked as he poked your side with his shoe.

“It’s cute in an utterly pathetic way.” Maddox used his boot to roll you onto your back before leaning down near your head. “Aw, is someone feeling a bit sleepy?” Unable to coil away, Maddox spit in your face with a cruel laugh. “C’mon, wake up, it’s playtime.”

Kage was next to torment you as you tried to roll yourself back onto your stomach to crawl away. His boot pressed painfully into your stomach, the steel tip digging in just below your ribcage. “Knock my foot away. Try it.”

You whined as you tried to use your arms to push him away, but you couldn’t. Your arms were like jelly.

“Mm, as fun as this is, we gotta move.” Maddox sighed as he straightened up, discarding the used needle out of your sightline.

You managed to get onto your stomach with Kage backing off, but all you could do was whimper as hands gripped your ankles, dragging you across the hardwoods and out the front door, your nose banging on the solid surface as you tried to dig your nails into the floor, but you had no strength left.

Your drool and blood from your now bleeding nose created a trail across the floor. At least if anyone found this home, there’d be evidence that you existed, your DNA staining the wood.

“Should we change her?” Damien asked, and from his voice, you could tell he was the one dragging you.

“She’ll be warm enough,” Maddox watched from the side as you were dragged to the porch stairs.

“God, she’s not going to piss in my car, is she?” Damien complained as Kage slung you over his shoulder, your body like a ragdoll, as he lifted you with scary ease.

“Just wrap a towel around her ass. It’ll do.” Maddox began putting bags in the back seat of the SUV parked outside.

Damien began to help him, but not without continuing to complain. “Just watch it. She already bled on my floor.”

Maddox laughed. “She bled all over her apartment and you didn’t even blink.”

“But that wasn’t my apartment,” Damien argued, a playful irritation in his tone.

They were having fun while tear droplets hit the gravel below you.

Maddox wasn’t giving up, though. ”You’re so materialistic sometimes, Dami.”

”When you pay for shit you can be too, Mads. Oh wait, you don’t pay for anything.”

”I’ve saved your ass enough times for payment.”

Kage sighed, his hand resting on your exposed ass. ”Would you two just shut up and help me get her in the car? I can do it myself, but then I’ll make sure blood and piss gets everywhere.”

Maddox sighed, too. "Yeah, yeah. Gimme a second. You leave the present in her cell?"

"Yeah. They'll find it."

You tried to speak, but only a groan came out. 

"Try not to talk. It won't do you any good.” Kage said as Maddox helped him haul you into the trunk of the car.

”At first, we couldn’t get you to talk, and now you won’t shut up.” Maddox started to wrap a towel around your lower half. "Just put some music on and drown her out."

“You… lied…” You managed to get out amongst your drooling whimpers.

Kage leaned in, his hand caressing your cheek. “We didn’t. You are going home.”

“Just not to the home you hoped for,” Maddox chimed in, derisively patting your thigh. “Rest up, babydoll. There’s a long journey ahead of us yet.”

Kage and Maddox pulled back, and their faces were the last thing you saw before the boot was slammed shut, and you were covered in darkness.

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Kate follows Lucy’s hand as she motions downward to the button up shirt she’s wearing. The shirt is a light blue that contrasts beautifully with Lucy’s tanned skin, being held closed by a measly two buttons near the middle. The hem of the shirt reaches Lucy’s mid-thigh, leaving the rest of her exposed legs uncovered for Kate’s viewing pleasure. Lucy grins as Kate’s eyes darken and she swallows nervously. 

“As much as I appreciated the view,” Kate begins, making Lucy’s grin grow, “that’s not exactly what I was asking you to do.” 

“I know, I know, okay,” Lucy steps closer to Kate, pressing against her chest. Kate swallows again as she suddenly remembers that Lucy is not only wearing her shirt, she’s only wearing her shirt. “But I won’t get to see you for like two weeks, okay. I have to give you something to remember me by.” 

“As if I could ever forget you,” Kate says sweetly, leaning down to connect their lips when Lucy looks up at her. 

“But, I mean, if you want to take this shirt with you, I can always…” Lucy trails off, moving her hands to the first of the buttons holding her shirt closed. Kate’s hands are quick to catch hers, stopping her movements. 

“You do that and I’ll never get packed or leave this apartment,” Kate says, not at all joking despite the smile that splits her face. 

“And that’s bad because?” 

“Lucy.” 

“Okay, I’m just teasing you.” Lucy pulls back, ignoring the way Kate mumbles under her breath ‘yeah, you are’ and moves back towards the bed. “I don’t know what the FBI field training is like, but for us, we had a few days of…” 

Lucy continues on, explaining what she thinks Kate might have to do at her mandatory FBI training in D.C., but Kate’s too busy watching Lucy to pay real attention to what she’s saying. Kate sits down at the head of the bed, moving a few pillows out of the way so she can have a better view of Lucy. She watches Lucy put together a few outfits for her, moving between the closet and the dresser and the bed with the efficiency of someone totally at ease in their surroundings. Bare feet pad across the bedroom floor, curly hair that Lucy hadn’t bothered to try and tame that day cascading down her back, her body only covered by the thin material of Kate’s light blue button down shirt. Kate knows that if she peeks into the kitchen, she’ll see the plates that they had eaten dinner on sitting beside the sink, freshly washed and dried along with the cookware Lucy had used to fix their dinner. Lucy’s water bottle is there too, drying on the rack next to Kate’s own. 

Lucy’s usual shoes are by the door, her gym bag is in the living room where she always drops it when she comes home for the day. There’s a new throw blanket on Kate’s couch, one that Lucy’s grandmother had crocheted for her when she was a baby and the only family keepsake Lucy had taken with her when she left Texas. Half of Kate’s closet is filled with Lucy’s clothes and the pillows on the right side of the bed smell like her shampoo and Kate has never been so helplessly in love with anyone before. She’s been dreading this trip because she doesn’t know how she’s going to get through almost two weeks of not being with Lucy, but she also knows that she’ll get to come home to Lucy and that makes her almost excited for the trip. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucy asks after she notices Kate watching her intently, a fond smile on her face. Kate gives a half-shrug, smiling. 

“I love you.” Kate says the words like she can’t quite believe that she’s allowed to say them, by herself or by Lucy. Lucy’s expression softens and when Kate holds out her hands, Lucy moves towards her, easily slipping into Kate’s arms. They’re almost eye to eye since Kate’s sitting on the bed and Lucy’s standing so when Kate’s arms wrap around Lucy’s waist, Lucy’s drapes over Kate’s shoulders. Her fingers twist into the ends of blonde hair draping over Kate’s green and white sweater clad shoulder, their bare legs brushing together as Lucy presses closer. 

“I love you,” Lucy says softly, pressing her lips to Kate’s in a barely there kiss. “And I’m going to miss you.” 

“Ten days of training,” Kate sighs, leaning her forehead against Lucy’s. “We can make it ten days.” 

“Plus two for traveling.” Lucy grumbles. “12 days is basically two weeks.” 

“Well then, we get basically one week off when I get back,” Kate says. Tenant had practically insisted that Lucy take some time off after Kate’s trip, and SAC Curtis had already told Kate that he wanted her to have some time to rest before she came back in after her two weeks of mandatory training. 

“We get six days, Kate. You get back early Tuesday and we both have to be at work the next monday.” 

“But we’ll have Tuesday through Sunday without anyone calling us.” Kate says. “Plenty of time to make up for our twelve days apart.” Lucy sighs, nodding her head. It’s not like she doesn’t know that Kate’s right, and she’s also aware that it’s not two weeks of zero contact. They’ll text and call and FaceTime as their schedules allow but still. It won’t be the same to get a good morning text after months of waking up to a good morning kiss, even before they officially moved in together. 

“I’m still going to miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you too.” Kate agrees. “I have no clue how I’m going to get any sleep in D.C. without you beside me.” 

"Oh I fully intend to raid your side of the closet for shirts to sleep in," Lucy grins. "Plus, I've volunteered for a couple night shifts." 

"I don't think avoiding sleep is going to help." 

"We'll see." Lucy leans in to press her smile against Kate’s, threading her fingers through long blonde hair. She can feel the warmth of Kate’s hands on hips through the thin cotton of the shirt. They keep the kiss soft and sweet, though they linger in each other's space for a long moment, eyes closed and foreheads resting together. Kate pulls back eventually, looking mournfully at the piles of clothes Lucy had laid out for her. 

"I should finish packing," Kate says, unable to keep the small grin off her face when Lucy pouts adorably in her arms. 

“Fine.” Lucy steals one last kiss and then moves back slightly, moving her hands from Kate’s hair to her thighs, resting her palms over the fabric of Kate’s cotton shorts. “You have all your toiletries and everything ready?” 

“Yeah,” Kate says. Lucy nods, squeezing Kate’s thighs slightly and then letting go. 

“Alright, I’ll clean up the kitchen.” 

Kate nods, watching Lucy walk out of their bedroom, disappearing behind the corner where the kitchen is. She hears the metal ringing when Lucy begins putting their water bottles away, the faucet turning on a moment later so she can wash the last of the dishes. Kate basks in the simple domesticity of the moment before shake shakes herself into gear. 

Lucy’s already done in the kitchen when Kate finishes folding her clothes up and putting them into her bag. Her toiletries bag is ready to put in first thing in the morning, the small bag Kate will use as a carryon sitting beside the duffle. She’ll need to grab her phone charger and credentials in the morning before Lucy drives her to the airport. The kitchen and living are already dark, the bedroom only illuminated by the bedside lamp and the moonlight filtering in through the curtains. 

“Ready?” Lucy asks when Kate moves the closed duffle bag off of the bed. 

“As I can be.” Kate shrugs, playing with her fingers the way she does when she’s nervous. Lucy kneels on the bed in front of Kate, gently taking her hands. 

“Hey,” Lucy says softly, drawing Kate’s eyes to her own. “You’re going to be amazing. The best agent to ever go through this training.” 

Kate nods. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m honestly not that worried about the training.” 

“Then what are you worried about?” Lucy asks. She can see the way the muscles in Kate’s jaw jump, feel the tension that is suddenly there in Kate’s hands and shoulders. Kate glances down to where their fingers are linked together. Lucy lets go of one of Kate’s hands so can gently grip her chin, making their eyes meet again. “Hey, talk to me, my love.” 

“It’s nothing.” Kate’s attempt to wave off her worries is immediately chastised by Lucy’s silent, insistent gaze. “I just -” She cuts herself off and then takes a deep breath. The hand linked with Lucy’s squeezes her fingers nervously. “It’s the first time we’ll be apart since we got back together.” 

“Yes.” Lucy’s eyes narrow in confusion. Kate shrugs again. 

“What if I mess us up again? I obviously don’t have the best track record with D.C. when it comes to our relationship and these last eight months have been amazing. You’re amazing. You’ve always been amazing and I just…I don’t want to do anything to put us at risk. I don’t want to lose you. So I’m just worried that I’ll do something or say something or -” 

“Kate.” Lucy interrupts gently, cutting off what she’s sure could have been an impressive ramble from Kate. Unnecessary, because Lucy had every confidence in Kate and their relationship, yet Lucy was well aware of Kate’s insecurities and the part she had played in deepening those. They didn’t pop often these days, but when they did, Lucy was quick to reassure Kate. 

“Baby, you aren’t going to do anything that would make me leave you.” Lucy says softly. “Where we’re at now is so different from where we were the last time D.C. came up. We’re on the same page now. I trust you. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.” 

“I have before.” 

“Yes, but I hurt you too Kate. Every time I didn’t let you speak or walked away when you tried to talk things out. You can’t blame only yourself for the way things happened between us at first. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s two of us in this relationship.” 

Kate laughed softly, lifting her free hand to grip Lucy’s waist. Lucy smiled at her, closing her eyes when she felt Kate’s forehead pressing against hers. 

“This is going to be the longest 12 days of my life.” Kate grumbled. Lucy chuckled, tilting her head slightly to press her lips to the corner of Kate’s mouth. 

“You and me both, babe.” Lucy sighs as Kate turns to kiss her properly, letting go of Lucy’s hand to slide one hand around to Lucy’s back and leaving the other on her waist. Lucy returns the kiss as her own hands move to the hem of Kate’s sweater, warm fingers dipping underneath to rest against Kate’s stomach. 

The muscles in Kate’s abdomen flex under her touch, their kiss growing deeper as Lucy hands move towards Kate’s back, blunt nails scratching slightly at her skin. Kate groans at the contact, letting go of Lucy’s lips so she can move to her neck. Her teeth graze against the sensitive spot just behind Lucy’s right ear and Lucy can feel Kate’s grin when she presses closer in response. Kate repeats the motion again, sucking a little harder this time. She’s careful not to leave a mark, at least not one that won’t be gone by morning. Lucy’s hands come back around to Kate’s front, groping her chest for an all too short moment before she pushes higher. 

Kate’s lips leave Lucy’s neck and she raises her arms, letting Lucy pull the sweater over her head. Lucy’s eyes roam hungrily over the newly exposed skin as Kate’s seater hits the bedroom floor, followed by her eager hands and then, finally, her mouth. She mouths along Kate’s collar bones, kissing and nipping and licking a path all along her up chest and neck while her fingers find a pert nipple. Kate arches into her touch, groaning. 

“Lucy,” Kate moans when Lucy runs her tongue down the valley of Kate’s breasts. Long fingers thread through Lucy’s hair, directing her lower. Lucy complies, rolling one nipple between her fingers while she sucks the other into her mouth. Lucy stays there for a long moment, keeping her lips wrapped around Kate even as she looks up to see her head thrown back in pleasure, back arching further into Lucy. When Lucy switches her mouth to the other nipple, her hands move along Kate’s abdomen until they reach the hem of her shorts. She looks up again, a silent question in her eyes that Kate gives an enthusiastic yes too. 

Lucy pulls on the drawstring that holds the cotton shorts up and lets them fall to the floor. Nimble fingers brush against Kate and Lucy moans around the nipple in her mouth when she feels the wetness there. 

“Fuck,” Lucy groans as she feels Kate tugging on her again. She pulls back from Kate’s chest and immediately finds her lips occupied by Kate’s, tongues quickly dancing together. Lucy shifts her hand slightly, running the very tips of her fingers along Kate’s folds but staying away from where she knows Kate wants her to touch. 

“Lucy,” Kate gasps when Lucy’s fingers move only millimeters away from her clit. “Fuck, Luce, please.” 

Lucy swallows roughly at Kate’s plea, finally touching Kate’s clit in firm strokes. Kate moans at the contact, reaching for Lucy and grabbing on wherever she can touch. Lucy wraps her other arm around Kate and presses their lips together again. She waits, playing with Kate clit in a way that brings her pleasure but won’t get her all the way, enjoying Kate’s flushed cheeks and deep moans and the way she says Lucy’s name, like a prayer and promise all wrapped into one. 

Lucy pulls Kate’s bottom lip between her teeth at the same time that she changes the angle of her hand, slipping one finger into Kate. Kate clenches around her, moaning. 

“More, baby,” Kate gasps. Lucy compiles immediately, adding a second finger. Kate’s hips rock to meet Lucy’s hand and she lifts one leg to rest her knee on the bed for balance. The new angle allows Lucy to reach a deeper point and she curls her fingers slightly. She brushes against Kate’s clit with every stroke; it doesn't take long before Kate is coming undone in her arms, a long moan of Lucy’s name leaving her lips as she clenches around Lucy’s fingers. Lucy helps her ride the waves of her orgasm, unable to keep herself from smirking when Kate leans forward slightly, unsteady on her feet. 

“You alright there, babe?” 

“Perfect,” Kate says softly, grinning down at Lucy. Lucy grins back, slowly extracting her fingers as Kate moans. Keeping her eyes locked with Kate’s, Lucy brings her fingers to her mouth. She moans at the taste of Kate on her tongue, the sound turning to laughter when Kate playfully tackles her. They grapple for a moment, laughing together until Kate has managed to get Lucy’s hands pinned above her head. 

Kate lays on top of Lucy, smiling in triumph as she leans down to connect their lips. Lucy rocks her hips into Kate, smearing her wetness across Kate’s abdomen. Kate groans, squeezing Lucy’s hands. 

“Don’t move.” Kate orders, waiting until Lucy nods before she lets go of her hands. Sitting back on her knees, Kate runs one finger down the opening of Lucy’s shirt, pausing when she reaches the two buttons that hold it closed. The buttons are quickly undone and the shirt pulled open, Lucy shivers slightly as a cool breeze brushes over her heated skin. 

Kate watches Lucy’s chest rise and fall for a moment, her eyes dark with desire. Her hands trail a path of fire across Lucy’s body as she leans in to press a slow kiss to Lucy’s mouth. 

“You’re so beautiful, Luce.” Kate says reverently. One hand slips below Lucy’s waist. “And so wet for me.” 

“Kate.” Lucy groans, slightly annoyed when Kate reaches up with one hand to press Lucy’s into the mattress again, not because she doesn't like it but because she wants to touch Kate so badly. The little sounds Lucy makes as Kate explores with her fingers make Kate’s head spin and as much as she’d like to return the favor for all the teasing Lucy had done, Kate is far too eager to make Lucy feel the same pleasure she did to draw it out for too long. She presses a long kiss to Lucy’s lips again before letting go of her wrist and trailing her lips down Lucy’s body. 

She lingers at her chest long enough to tempt Lucy into touching her, guiding her to where she wants to be touched. At the last possible moment before Lucy gives in to the temptation, Kate moves down further. She spends a minute sucking a dark mark onto Lucy’s stomach as her hands slide over Lucy’s thighs and then she’s exactly where Lucy wants her to be. 

The first swipe of Kate’s tongue against her has Lucy releasing a loud whimper, her hands clenching in the bed sheets as she fights the growing desire to thread them into Kate’s hair. 

“Fuck.” Lucy groans as Kate licks her again. “Kate, baby, please - fuck.” Lucy interrupts herself when Kate flicks her tongue against Lucy’s clit. 

“Please what, my love?” 

“Let me touch you,” Lucy says pleadingly. “Please. I need to feel you.” 

“You mean you don’t feel this?” Kate thrusts her tongue into Lucy, delighted when Lucy moans her name, half in pleasure and half in annoyance. 

“Kate!” Lucy tries again. Again, Kate is tempted to drag this out, but she doesn't. She knows why Lucy wants to feel her. It’s the same reason that Kate had been totally unable to keep herself from running her hands all over Lucy’s body not even ten minutes before. 

“Take my hand, baby.” 

Lucy’s fingers are immediately wrapped around Kate’s, her other hand threading into Kate’s hair. They hold tightly to one another while Kate works Lucy over with her tongue. When she can feel that Lucy is close to tumbling over the edge, Kate presses two fingers of her free hand into Lucy, focusing her mouth on Lucy’s clit. Lucy comes with a cry of Kate’s name, hips bucking as Kate guides her through the orgasm. 

Lucy collapses back against the pillows with a groan as Kate pulls out of her, cleaning her fingers off before she retraces the path she had traveled downwards before. Her kisses are soft against Lucy’s skin, filled with love but without the overwhelming need. 

“Okay?” Kate asked when she was back at eye level with Lucy, watching as her eyes opened lazily and Lucy smiled at her. 

“Better than,” Lucy wrapped her arms around Kate’s shoulders and pulled her down, letting their bare bodies press together wonderfully. “I love you.” 

“I love you.”