#kilonova

Time passed differently with Dex after that night. He spared a life for you, that has to mean something, right? 

It was difficult to let your guard down around him especially after his massacre at the bar (you both silently agreed to never bring it up). And deep down it’s hard for you to truly believe your presence actually has a positive impact on him; he’s a killer afterall, a damn good one at that.

But as most things do, it became more bearable with time. 

His cologne doesn’t make you feel like vomiting anymore, his smile doesn’t make your spine go rigid, and sometimes you even find yourself calling him “Ben” again. 

You physically feel yourself becoming less abrasive- less combative; you can feel it in the way you wake with no shoulder pain or in the way your chest doesn’t burn from holding your breath when he passes you. 

Maybe you were warming up to him. Or maybe you had given up hope of returning to a life without Dex. 

The latter is much more likely. 

After months of this fucked up dynamic, your psyche has gaslit you into believing all hope is not lost. He can change.

He’s much more tender with you and sometimes you even find yourself enjoying his company, though it may just be the fact that you are never socialized outside of his all-consuming presence. 

Some nights you still wake in a cold sweat, his arms around you feeling tighter than the handcuffs that he once bound you to this very bed with. During those times he’s learned that it's better to leave you alone than to try to comfort you. 

You hate him. 

You still do and always will. 

It's just that your fire has burnt out. 

He’s very aware of that. But he allows himself to be swept up in the fantasy- playing house. 

You will learn to love him. You had feelings once, they can come back. 

There are flowers on the table; lilies and orchids. You wish he had gotten you just any flower so you could be annoyed at the fact that he got them thoughtlessly- just for show. But you can’t. 

Dex knows they are your favorites, he’s always known. 

He noted them in the back of his mind when you made a passing comment the first time the two of you walked past the local farmers market. Back when things weren’t so complicated- when he was just “Ben”, the harmless, compassionate FBI agent who saved you from a mugging. 

Sometimes the scent of the flowers makes you want to gag but you also find yourself staring at them for hours on end. How ironic that he gets you white lilies, representative of purity- something you feel he took from you. The orchids are almost worse, representing beauty, love, and strength…

At first you refused to water them, hoping they would wither and die, maybe they could find the peace that you couldn't. 

He noticed your initial aversion, noting it with a slight tightening of his jaw. But instead of getting rid of them, he begins to water them after making coffee in the mornings. Another step in his curated routine. 

You would get used to them and enjoy them again, you would have to- they weren’t going anywhere. Just like him. 

The roof became your escape during the day, planter boxes filled with soil and seed packets he picked up for you. He pitched it as a new passion for you to explore, but you both knew it was just a task to keep you busy. 

When he had shorter shifts and came back before dinnertime, he’d often head straight to the rooftop because he knew that’s where you’d be. You’d watch the pigeons that had gathered on the walls of the roof scatter at his arrival. 

You never thought you’d be envious of a pigeon...

_________________________________________

He became quite comfortable in his role with Fisk; he wasn’t bound by the law but also had direction. To him it was perfect. He was able to act out his obscene urges under the guise of work. 

Though, after one too many stories of him sending something through a person’s skull, you finally ask him to stop. Beg him to stop. 

“Dex, just stop.” you plead, fists clenched in your lap as you blankly stare down at the plate of mixed veggies and rice you made. 

You couldn’t hear this anymore. You knew what he was capable of and had seen it too. If he wanted to play pretend and keep things amicable, he couldn’t tell you these things. 

“Please” your voice comes out smaller than you anticipated and you’re almost embarrassed for even asking.

Much to your surprise he doesn’t retort back, he doesn’t shout, he just nods. 

You feel sick. 

Why didn’t he argue? He has never seemed to take your feelings into consideration before, so why now? 

A shaky sigh escapes your lips and you abruptly stand with your plate and head towards the sink to clean up. Usually you can feel his eyes boring into you from the back but there’s nothing this time. You sneak a peek at him and he’s sitting rigidly, hands clasped in front of him as he stares at the blank wall ahead of him. The air is thick with tension the rest of the night and at some point you decide you just need to be asleep. 

Dex is sitting in front of his laptop, still facing the blank wall when you pass behind him, “I’m going to shower and then get into bed” you say without glancing at him. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement but before you can head to the bedroom, he reaches out and lightly caresses the inside of your wrist. You freeze. 

“I won’t talk about work anymore” his voice is low and soft, he doesn’t meet your eye. 

What is this? 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you” he adds, rubbing his calloused thumb against your skin. 

All you can muster is a noise somewhere between a hum and a choked sob before continuing into the other room. 

You gently close the bathroom door, worried that if it closes too loudly that it will provoke him. In a daze, you strip down and step into the shower. 

Something as simple as him agreeing to stop telling you about killing people shouldn’t feel so intimate. It should just be a common courtesy, but things are never simple with Dex. 

Your mind waders as the warm water trickles down your body. You asked for something and he complied. He, the man who had stripped you of your freedom- your life- just simply stopped talking when you asked him to. 

And then he apologized. 

He apologized for something so small. His touch was so gentle and his words so sincere- he genuinely felt bad for “upsetting you”. Life had become too comfortable. How was it that he could muster a deephearted apology for that but not for stalking you, manipulating you, keeping you here, killing people. 

None of it made sense. 

He truly believes he needs you and there’s nothing you can do to change that. 

___________________________________________

Days go by and the two of you eventually settle back into routine. He brews coffee for himself at 6:15 am and precisely 15 minutes before he leaves, he prepares a chai latte with a dash of cinnamon for you. 

Since the day he met- well…followed you, he catalogued every drink you got. In the beginning you stuck to plain vanilla lattes with the occasional macchiato but the caffeine started to give you headaches. You tried energy drinks for a stint but didn’t like the carbonation. Eventually you settled on chai lattes and the occasional decaf coffee. 

This morning is no different, he brews his pot as you lie in bed, somewhere between sleep and reality. The lingering warmth of his body against yours has begun to cool, you frown as you draw the covers closer to your chest. 

You hear his footsteps as he re-enters the bedroom with his coffee in hand- odd, he usually doesn’t like bringing any drink that isn’t water into the bedroom for fear of spilling it. He stands at the foot of the bed, you can feel his eyes observing your form. He takes a sip. 

No use pretending you’re asleep. You stretch and readjust yourself so that you’re lying on your side facing the edge of the bed. 

The carpet in the bedroom muffles his steps and he gently places the coffee mug onto a coaster on the bedside table before adjusting the handle so that it’s 90 degrees away from him. He’s dressed in a white button down that you ironed yesterday and his normal slacks. In the darkness of the room you can’t really make out his expression so you just close your eyes again. 

Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. 

“I’ve got a long day at work, I might be home late” he says in a hushed tone. 

You nuzzle further into your pillow and hum in acknowledgement not really wanting to talk so early in the morning. 

“If I'm not back by night, you can go ahead and go to bed, alright sweetheart?”.

You nod and whisper an “ok”. 

Dex smiles and leans down to kiss your temple, “that’s my girl, i’ll see you later”. 

You want to scream. 

By the time you pull yourself out of bed, the chai is cold and the cinnamon has sunken. You loosely grab the cup and pour the drink down the drain. Out of habit you wash the cup and place it in the drying rack before walking to the couch. The area is clean and he left you a book filled with crosswords.

You rub your eyes and head back into the bedroom to change into something other than pajamas. Once you’ve changed and cleaned yourself up it’s already almost noon. Another day wasted, just like that. Should you even care anymore? Time is just a concept at this point. 

You could always attempt to leave again, skip town, pick up some unnamed work and never look back. That has been a truly enticing idea. He told you himself that he won’t be home until late tonight and he doesn’t lie to you. 

Sometimes you wished he would, but that’s one thing about Dex- he is always honest with you. Whether you find out by your own volition or he straight up tells you he will always tell the truth. You numbly remember the last time you tried to run, he told you exactly what would happen. You didn’t believe him..

But his truth landed on the front page of the daily newspaper.

You’re not sure how much time has passed as you watch the busy streets down below. The weather is actually pretty nice for once and your plants are doing well. Though you try to push it away, a small part of you misses Dex when he’s gone. Maybe this was part of his design the whole time, desocializing you so that you would become more dependent on him. You know it’s crazy for you to actually miss him as a person, so you continuously tell yourself that you only miss the company- the human interaction.

You do not miss Benjamin Poindexter. 

You don’t.

The hours tick by and eventually you’re sitting at the counter with a cup of instant noodles you found in the back of the cabinet. The noodles bob up and down as you poke them with the disposable chopsticks Dex keeps in the utensil drawer. Soon it’s midnight and there’s no sign of him; a slight twinge of dread pools in your stomach… What if he doesn’t return? 

You’re surprised at the concern that thought brings you. Not that long ago, you would have prayed for that outcome. 

What would happen- Would you just leave? What if he was testing you? Maybe it’s best to stay put. 

You make your way to the bedroom and begin to prepare the shower when you hear the front door click open. Dex usually announces his arrival but you don’t hear anything. You wait a beat before turning off the shower; he’s made it quite evident that he works with “bad people” (as if he isn’t one himself). 

There’s really nothing in the bedroom you can use for self defense so you decide to just be very calculated in your movements. With your back to the wall, you slink through the bedroom until you can peek into the living area. The light catches on the unmistakable red suit. His back is turned but you can tell it’s him by the way his right hand shakes. The mission must not have gone as planned. 

He takes a knife from the block and slings it across the room with chilling precision as it lands in the center of the fireplace’s mantle design. Suddenly you remember just who you’re at the mercy of. You watch a while longer, not wanting to come out at a bad time and get hit in the crossfire of whatever was going on in his head. 

Suddenly items go flying as he rips off the red mask; he’s completely feral. You’re frozen in fear, is this it? Did he finally snap?  You shut your eyes and grapple with the fact that today might have been your last day alive. There is quite literally a homicidal maniac in the other room who could kill you with no effort at all. 

The noises in the other room die down and the rigidness in your shoulders dissolves just a little. Turning your head to get a better view, you see the silhouette of Dex propped up against a wall on the wall farthest from you. His head is in his hands and his whole body moves with each panicked breath he takes. 

Slowly, you open the door all the way and cautiously make your way towards him. The closer you get the louder his shaky breaths sound; his whole body is trembling and you can’t help but pity him. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy after all he’s done but he looks so scared, so small. 

His head stays down as you approach him; you call his name gently before daring to touch him. His eyes are bloodshot and teary when he finally lifts his face to meet yours; there are so many cuts on his face and a large bruise has already begun forming on his left cheekbone. 

Involuntarily your brows scrunch together as you kneel down to his level. His hands are still trembling as he tries to communicate with you. 

“I-I… The c.. I did it again” he sputters as his eyes nervously dart across your face. 

No further explanation needed, he killed more people. You can tell by the way he hugs himself tightly like a child; he hated letting you down. 

Your heart twists. 

It takes everything in you not to ask him to kill you too- how are you supposed to tell him that everything is alright when he’s killing people?! How are you supposed to guide him when it never helps?

“I know, Dex,” you say quietly. 

His eyes widened, maybe he was expecting you to yell at him, tell him to be better… but you just acknowledged it. Were you giving up on him? 

“I- I’m sorry” he chokes out as his hands uncontrollably shake. 

Taking a deep breath you place your palms out to him; he looks confused as he shifts his gaze between you and your hands. 

“Ben” you say softly. 

His mouth opens at that. 

You swallow hard, he kept you here because he believed you could help him. Maybe you needed to try a different approach.

“Give me your hands”. 

Without looking away from you, he reluctantly stretches out his hands to yours as if you are the one who he is afraid of. Once he feels the warmth of your palms, he exhales deeply and his whole body seems to relax just a little. Though his breathing is still off. 

“Breathe with me, alright? One… Two…” you lead and he follows. 

Soon enough he gains his footing and rests his head against the wall. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both digesting everything that’s occurred. 

“You stayed,” he says quietly. 

His statement makes you want to cry.

“I did”.

***

A/N: So if you didn't read the other story, basically Dex acted innocent towards the reader but then they fin out that he was actually stalking them and the whole dynamic between them is fucked up becuase dex keeps tham basically as prisoner and theres genuinely no escape. But its complicated because there is genuine care somewhere in there.

Roman will view extremely faint infrared light, which has longer wavelengths than our eyes can see. Two of the mission’s core observing programs will monitor specific patches of the sky. Stitching the results together like stop-motion animation will create movies that reveal changing objects and fleeting events that would otherwise be hidden from our view.

Watch this video to learn about time-domain astronomy and how time will be a key element in NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s galactic bulge survey. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center

This type of science, called time-domain astronomy, is difficult for telescopes that have smaller views of space. Roman’s large field of view will help us see huge swaths of the universe. Instead of always looking at specific things and events astronomers have already identified, Roman will be able to repeatedly observe large areas of the sky to catch phenomena scientists can't predict. Then astronomers can find things no one knew were there!

One of Roman’s main surveys, the Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey, will monitor hundreds of millions of stars toward the center of our Milky Way galaxy. Astronomers will see many of the stars appear to flash or flicker over time.

This animation illustrates the concept of gravitational microlensing. When one star in the sky appears to pass nearly in front of another, the light rays of the background source star are bent due to the warped space-time around the foreground star. The closer star is then a virtual magnifying glass, amplifying the brightness of the background source star, so we refer to the foreground star as the lens star. If the lens star harbors a planetary system, then those planets can also act as lenses, each one producing a short change in the brightness of the source. Thus, we discover the presence of each exoplanet, and measure its mass and how far it is from its star. Credit: NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center Conceptual Image Lab 

That can happen when something like a star or planet moves in front of a background star from our point of view. Because anything with mass warps the fabric of space-time, light from the distant star bends around the nearer object as it passes by. That makes the nearer object act as a natural magnifying glass, creating a temporary spike in the brightness of the background star’s light. That signal lets astronomers know there’s an intervening object, even if they can’t see it directly.

This artist’s concept shows the region of the Milky Way NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey will cover – relatively uncharted territory when it comes to planet-finding. That’s important because the way planets form and evolve may be different depending on where in the galaxy they’re located. Our solar system is situated near the outskirts of the Milky Way, about halfway out on one of the galaxy’s spiral arms. A recent Kepler Space Telescope study showed that stars on the fringes of the Milky Way possess fewer of the most common planet types that have been detected so far. Roman will search in the opposite direction, toward the center of the galaxy, and could find differences in that galactic neighborhood, too.

Using this method, called microlensing, Roman will likely set a new record for the farthest-known exoplanet. That would offer a glimpse of a different galactic neighborhood that could be home to worlds quite unlike the more than 5,500 that are currently known. Roman’s microlensing observations will also find starless planets, black holes, neutron stars, and more!

This animation shows a planet crossing in front of, or transiting, its host star and the corresponding light curve astronomers would see. Using this technique, scientists anticipate NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope could find 100,000 new worlds. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center/Chris Smith (USRA/GESTAR)

Stars Roman sees may also appear to flicker when a planet crosses in front of, or transits, its host star as it orbits. Roman could find 100,000 planets this way! Small icy objects that haunt the outskirts of our own solar system, known as Kuiper belt objects, may occasionally pass in front of faraway stars Roman sees, too. Astronomers will be able to see how much water the Kuiper belt objects have because the ice absorbs specific wavelengths of infrared light, providing a “fingerprint” of its presence. This will give us a window into our solar system’s early days.

This animation visualizes a type Ia supernova.

Roman’s High Latitude Time-Domain Survey will look beyond our galaxy to hunt for type Ia supernovas. These exploding stars originate from some binary star systems that contain at least one white dwarf – the small, hot core remnant of a Sun-like star. In some cases, the dwarf may siphon material from its companion. This triggers a runaway reaction that ultimately detonates the thief once it reaches a specific point where it has gained so much mass that it becomes unstable.

NASA’s upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will see thousands of exploding stars called supernovae across vast stretches of time and space. Using these observations, astronomers aim to shine a light on several cosmic mysteries, providing a window onto the universe’s distant past. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center

Since these rare explosions each peak at a similar, known intrinsic brightness, astronomers can use them to determine how far away they are by simply measuring how bright they appear. Astronomers will use Roman to study the light of these supernovas to find out how quickly they appear to be moving away from us.

By comparing how fast they’re receding at different distances, scientists can trace cosmic expansion over time. This will help us understand whether and how dark energy – the unexplained pressure thought to speed up the universe’s expansion – has changed throughout the history of the universe.

NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will survey the same areas of the sky every few days. Researchers will mine this data to identify kilonovas – explosions that happen when two neutron stars or a neutron star and a black hole collide and merge. When these collisions happen, a fraction of the resulting debris is ejected as jets, which move near the speed of light. The remaining debris produces hot, glowing, neutron-rich clouds that forge heavy elements, like gold and platinum. Roman’s extensive data will help astronomers better identify how often these events occur, how much energy they give off, and how near or far they are.

And since this survey will repeatedly observe the same large vista of space, scientists will also see sporadic events like neutron stars colliding and stars being swept into black holes. Roman could even find new types of objects and events that astronomers have never seen before!

Learn more about the exciting science Roman will investigate on X and Facebook.

Allison stared in horror as Malcolm dragged Sing across the floor by the wrist, who clawed at his hand and kicked against the ground in an effort to get away. He begged frantically to be released, his eyes wide with terror and his chest expanding and contracting rapidly as he panted. He cried out in pain as Malcolm tightened his hold on his wrist and twisted his arm.

“What are you doing??” Allison demanded. Malcolm ignored her and threw Sing to the ground, then stepped on his wrist to keep him from moving. He raised his shock prod and jabbed the electrified prongs into Sing’s side, which drew a blood-curdling scream from his throat and made him writhe on the ground as he tried to pull away from Malcolm.

“Stop! Stop!! Please stop! Allison!!” he shrieked. Allison clenched her jaw and caught Malcolm’s quick sideways glance at her, and his smirk when she didn’t step forward.

“Shut up, she’s not going to help you,” he spat, digging the sole of his boot deeper into Sing’s arm. Sing’s eyes darted around the room in a panic and he threw Allison a pained, pleading stare when they met hers, though he did not dare to call her name aloud again. Her stomach turned with regret.

She opened her mouth to protest, but her voice caught in her throat as Sing let out another terrible yowl of pain in response to another stabbing shock from Malcolm.

“That hurts!!” he screamed, his voice high with desperation. Allison moved her eyes up to Malcolm again, and the malicious, almost manic look in his eyes made her blood boil. Her heart pounded violently against her chest and she felt her hand twitch. In an attempt to maintain composure, she inhaled slowly through her nose and closed her hand into a fist.

Malcolm finally stopped the tasing and stepped back from Sing, who curled into the fetal position and trembled violently. He looked for a moment like he might be sick. On impulse Allison began to approach, ready to console, to heal, to protect...to do something. Malcolm held his hand up to stop her.

Sing brought a shaking hand out from around his waist, which he had been hugging, and attempted to pull himself up. He got halfway onto his hands and knees and turned back around to look at Malcolm, who gave him no more than a second to recover. He grabbed Sing harshly by the collar of his suit and pulled him up from the ground with incredible ease. Sing yelped in surprise and brought his hands up to grab onto Malcolm’s wrists. Malcolm tossed him to the ground again, this time in front of a group of guards, who were on him in an instant with a straitjacket at the ready.

“Colonel, can you please explain to me what the hell is going on?”

The guards held Sing down onto his back and pulled his arms through the sleeves of the jacket, and he kicked and screamed the whole time.

“He’s been completely uncooperative all day and he needs to be taught a lesson,” Malcolm replied coldly.

Sing grunted and yelped as the guards tightened the straps of the jacket, manhandling him as they maneuvered his body to reach each one. They pulled him up to his feet by the straps on his back and shoulders once he’d been fully restrained and he struggled violently, screaming to be let go, throwing his head back and kicking.

“Iia, iia! Let go!! Rateh, meia! Y’va riiteh, n’lineh sa!! Let go!”

One of the guards went to grab his shoulder and brought his arm a little too close to his face and Sing lunged forward and locked his jaw onto the guard’s forearm. He shrieked in pain.

“Ow!! You son of a bitch!”

The guard tried to pull his arm away, but Sing only bit down harder. Another guard pulled his shock prod and jabbed Sing in the side, which made him let go, and he received a harsh smack to the face for his actions. The guard he bit stumbled backwards, seething and cradling his arm in his other hand.

“Dammit, that stings!!” he shouted as blood dripped from his arm onto the floor.

One of the guards yanked Sing’s head back by the hair and another shoved a muzzle over his mouth to keep him from biting again, the mouth guard inside it making it double as a gag.

“What are you going to do with him?” asked Allison.

“Put him in confinement until he learns his lesson.”

Sing sobbed beneath his muzzle at Malcolm’s words.

“What? That’s a horrible idea! Sir, I recognize he’s been difficult to work with, but we don’t know what this kind of treatment could—”

“I know very well what it will do—teach him to behave.”

“Tying him up and throwing him in a dark, silent room isn’t going to do anything good! All it’s going to do is scare him, and make him less cooperative in the future. This is not a good idea!”

“If he’s as smart as you claim him to be...” Malcolm approached Sing as he struggled against the soldiers restraining him and grabbed him roughly by the chin, lifting his head so they were eye to eye. Sing froze, staring wide-eyed up at Malcolm, his ears folded back in fear and his shoulders trembling subtly. “…then I’m confident he’ll understand that this punishment is a result of his own behavior, and if he doesn’t want it to happen again, he’ll learn to cooperate.”

Malcolm released Sing’s chin and stepped away, and Sing followed his every move with his eyes, breathing hard and fast.

“There are other ways to—“ Allison began, but Malcolm cut her off again.

“This is happening, Wood. You can either let it, or be disciplined for insubordination.”

When she didn’t say anything back, Malcolm turned back to Sing and the guards.

“Let’s go.”

With Malcolm leading the way, the guards pulled Sing backwards down the hallway towards the cell block. He struggled and sobbed helplessly, writhing in the jacket with his eyes squeezed shut. Allison looked away.

The group stopped in front of a large steel door, which Malcolm unlocked and opened. Behind it was a small, barren room, dark, unfurnished, the walls and floor thinly padded to prevent self-injury. The guards pulled Sing towards it and turned him around so he was facing the inside.

Sing stared into the empty cell, his eyes full of dread, and began to kick against the floor, shaking his head fervently. He begged again to be released, but his pleas were muffled beneath the muzzle and all that came out were frantic, stifled groans.

The guards forced him to his knees, then pinned him down to the floor on his stomach. They held him completely still despite his best efforts to kick and squirm. Malcolm pulled an injector gun from his belt and extended the needle from the nose. He knelt down beside Sing, pulled his collar down over his shoulder, and pinned his head down by the neck. Sing caught sight of the gun in Malcolm’s hand and his eyes widened, his ears folding flat against his head.

“NGHHH!!” he cried, his eyes beginning to well with tears.

“Hold still, you little shit,” muttered the guard pinning his back.

Malcolm stuck the needle into the back of Sing’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. Sing yelped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, then flinched when Malcolm pulled the gun away.

The guards strapped his thighs and ankles together to prevent him from standing or kicking, then picked him up and threw him forwards into the cell and he landed on his stomach with a stifled grunt. He struggled to turn around and turned his head just as the door closed. The last thing Allison saw was the terrified expression on his face before the door shut with a final and deafening slam. She sighed and buried her face in her hand.

“He stays in there for twelve hours,” said Malcolm. Allison lifted her head.

“Twelve hours?? Does he know that?”

“No. And if you take him out of this cell before his time is up, there will be serious repercussions. If you want to keep working with him, I suggest you avoid them. You can keep an eye on him with the monitor on your tablet. It’s a night vision camera so you’ll be able to see him in the dark.”

Allison stood still, shocked into silence at Malcolm’s complete lack of human empathy.

“Finish your report on today’s trial,” he continued. “Then you can go home for the night.”

Allison glanced down at her watch. 8:07pm. If she left now and got to bed promptly, she could be back again in time to let Sing out at 8:00am. She doubted Malcolm would be as careful with his punctuality.

Malcolm dismissed the group, and Allison began to make her way back to her lab. As she walked, she glanced down at the monitor on her tablet. Sing was lying on his back, writhing against the jacket and the straps around his legs, stopping intermittently to pant when he exhausted himself. She huffed in frustration and shook her head as she put her tablet away. Every fiber inside her told her to go get him, give him a proper bed, food and water, and the medical aid he definitely needed. But what would happen if she were to disobey Malcolm would likely be far worse for Sing than solitary confinement; especially if she no longer had a say in his treatment.

When she arrived back at her lab she was met with the sight of the guard Sing bit trying—and failing—to tend to his wound. He swore loudly when he dropped the roll of bandage he had been trying to wrap around his arm.

“Go over to the sink, I’ll help you,” she offered. He accepted and made his way over to the counter. Allison turned on the cold water and had him hold his arm under it while she gathered first aid supplies. Once she had what she needed, she dried his arm and had him sit down on the foot of the bed while she soaked a sterile rag in hydrogen peroxide. She began dabbing the cloth onto his wound and his muscles tightened as he sucked air in through his teeth.

“Dammit, why does it burn so much??”

“His saliva becomes highly acidic when he’s under stress. It’s a defense mechanism. Meant to deter attackers.”

She finished cleaning the wound, sealed it, and began wrapping the bandage around it properly.

“Little bastard. Maybe a kick to the teeth would teach him not to use them,” the guard muttered. Allison pursed her lips and purposely pulled the bandage a little too tight around his arm and he grunted in pain. There was a moment of silence as she secured the bandage, then he spoke again.

“Will... Will it be okay? Like, it won’t spread or anything, right?”

“The compound is not toxic, and you received a small dose. You’ll be fine so long as you keep it clean. It’s done, you’re free to go.”

He stood and pulled his sleeve down over his arm. “Thanks, Doctor.”

Allison nodded without looking at him as she turned to put away the first aid kit. Once he’d gone and everything was cleaned up and put away, she opened her laptop to enter the final notes on the report Malcolm wanted, regarding Sing’s responses to the day’s trials. She glanced over the observations of her colleagues, and felt her face contort slightly as she read, nausea creeping up from her stomach to her throat.

Subject exhibited signs of severe distress during administration of EC-127, expressed intense pain. Vital signs reached near-critical levels prior to loss of consciousness. Trial results are inconclusive. Formula will be modified and further testing will be conducted.

-Dr. Silvio Portman

...

Subject was highly agitated and combative during post-procedural sample extraction and post-op examination. Restraint is required for safety and efficiency. Recurrent sedation may be needed if subject’s behavior does not improve. In this case placement of a PICC line may be advisable.

-Dr. Grace Tanner

Allison closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, then massaged her temples softly as she tried to calm herself.

Barbaric, she thought to herself. This is wrong and you know it.

Nevertheless, she brought her hands down from her head and hovered her fingers over the keyboard. She’d need to choose her words carefully; it was possible she might be able to spare Sing some unnecessary trauma, but if she was too direct, Malcolm would flag her as biased. She’d need to justify her orders.

Subject displays intense fear and severe anxiety when interacting with staff. Constant stress and heightened cortisol and adrenaline levels may lead to inaccurate data readings and may compromise long-term health. Moderate sedation and analgesics during NRN procedures is recommended to reduce anxiety and manage pain. Consider inhalant or oral sedation instead of intravenous injection to prevent vein damage, and account for heightened metabolism when measuring dosage. Rest between trials and procedures should be lengthened to ensure full and proper recovery. Placement of a PICC line should be reconsidered due to risk of self-injury to subject via deliberate removal.

-Dr. Allison Wood

She printed the report and made her way to Malcolm’s office, then silently placed it on his desk, which he acknowledged with a nod and a quiet grunt without looking up from his work. She turned to leave his office as quickly as she arrived, not waiting for additional confirmation before clocking out and heading to her car.

In the parking lot, the night air was crisp and cool and smelled vaguely of fir trees and magnolia blossoms. Allison inhaled deeply, finding the aroma quite pleasant after being stuck inside a stuffy lab for twelve hours, but her momentary calm was interrupted when her mind offered up the image of Sing, bound and locked up in his small, windowless, lightless cell. He hadn’t even been outside the east wing in months, let alone the entire building. Unallowed the luxury of spring air, he was afforded only the smell of nitrile and sanitizer, which she knew for a fact he was not fond of, whether that be for his stronger senses or what he associated with it.

Her chest twisted with guilt, and she shook her head to herself as she unlocked the doors of her gray Acura and sat down in the driver’s seat. She set her things down in the seat beside her and slid her key into the ignition, but paused before starting it. She glanced over at the messenger bag sitting in her passenger seat and was compelled to pull her tablet out of it and check the monitor one more time.

Sing had given up struggling and had managed to worm his way over to the far corner of the room. He was leaned up against the wall with his head bowed, and though there was no sound, she could tell by the gentle jerking of his shoulders that he was crying.

She set her tablet face down on the seat and rested her face in her hands, hoping that perhaps at the very least the sedative he was given would help him sleep and pass the time quickly. Maybe she could—

A soft knock on the driver’s side window made her jump violently and she turned to find Daniel standing outside the door. He waved and gestured for her to open it, then stepped back as she did.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You looked like you were being sick or something.”

“I’m... I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Allison sighed and shook her head.

“Hmm.” Daniel paused for a moment, tapping his finger on her door. “Wanna go out for a drink?”

***

The bar was dimly lit with dark wooden walls and multicolored stain glass windows. Neon signs for popular beer brands flashed in windows and over the TVs, which were playing feeds of different football games around the country. The atmosphere was filled with low, casual conversation, no single voice distinguishable from any other, quiet jazz music, and the clinking of tumblers.

Daniel ordered two whiskies on the rocks and was offered a food menu along with his drinks, which he gladly accepted, adding a double-stack burger and fries to his order. Allison’s dinner order was requested, but she asked for no more than a small side salad, fearing she wouldn’t be able to keep anything more than that down.

The two requested a corner table, out of the way and separate from the main hub of the bar, which they were swiftly directed to. Their food and drinks followed shortly after. Daniel wasted no time digging into his while Allison merely stared at the bowl of colorful greens and vegetables in front of her, picking at the tomatoes absently with her fork.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Daniel after a sip from his whisky. Allison glanced up at him momentarily before exhaling deeply and dropping her fork. She took a sip from her own glass before replying.

“This is wrong.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This. Everything we’re doing. Malcolm and his...methods. They’re excessive at best. Deplorable, if you ask me. This operation, this treatment goes against everything I stand for.”

“You mean as a doctor? You think he goes too far with what he allows for the sake of research?”

“Definitely, but it’s more than that. Malcolm isn’t just looking for knowledge and understanding in the name of science, unethical as his practices are. He wants information regarding national security. He thinks Sing is a threat as much as an opportunity, and his interrogation methods are unprincipled to say the least. And if Sing doesn’t comply, or just gives an answer he doesn’t like, his punishments are extreme. Not just pain. He knows what Sing is afraid of and uses that against him. Everything about it is corrupt, immoral, and wrong, and I can’t just stand by and say nothing while he openly spits on everything I value and believe in.”

“Have you voiced your concerns to the board?”

“I have. They didn’t seem overly alarmed by my complaints. I fear there’s a conflict of interest and they’re choosing to look the other way, because they want the information Malcolm is trying to extract.”

“Hm. What about making an appeal to the Council directly?”

“I tried that already too. Apparently, the God-given rights to autonomy and compassion ‘don’t apply to non-human entities.’”

Daniel scoffed. “Well, that seems a bit morally ambiguous.”

“It’s bullshit,” she muttered, leaning forward and dropping the back of an open hand onto the table for emphasis. “’Non-human entities,’” she scoffed, shaking her head. “He is sentient, he can feel pain, he has complex emotions. He’s still a person. Doesn’t matter where he happens to come from or look like. Hell, even animals have laws protecting them from unfair or cruel treatment. I mean, I’m a physician, Daniel. I took an oath to do no harm. How can I claim to uphold that oath if I’m complicit in this?”

There was a brief pause as Daniel considered her words.

“Can I ask you something?”

Allison nodded.

“Why didn’t you just leave?” His tone indicated genuine curiosity and concern, not challenge or argument. “I mean, back when they first brought him in, plenty of people left right off the bat, saying they didn’t want to have anything to do with something so ‘unethical.’ I think when the Council said ‘extraterrestrial life,’ they were thinking more like microbiology or botany.”

Allison rolled her eyes and shook her head again.

“Others left several weeks in, their reasoning being they couldn’t take the guilt. That he was ‘too human.’ I know you feel similarly. Why did you stay?”

Allison sighed and tapped her finger on the table, considering her response. “I thought about it,” she said finally. “I almost did. But then I thought if I left, he’d have no one. No one left who cared that this was wrong, or to advocate on his behalf. I couldn’t just abandon him. Especially after I knew exactly how he was being treated. But I told myself that if I was going to stay, I couldn’t be apathetic. My presence had to make a difference. If I stayed and didn’t help, then it didn’t change anything.” She paused. “I’d be just another faceless tormentor.”

“So... What do you plan on doing, then?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, obviously I can’t just take him home and set him up on the couch in my apartment. But I’m not just gonna sit and watch him be...tortured...and offer no comfort. I need to do something. I just don’t know what. Anything I can do just feels so insignificant. I need to do more.”

“Allison, you need to be careful. Look, I’m on your side here. I agree this is wrong. But if you really want to help him, you gotta keep a level head. Malcolm already suspects you of bias, and he’s watching you closely. If he finds a reason to dismiss you, then you can’t do anything for the kid.”

“I know that. That’s why I feel so helpless. Malcolm has reprimanded me several times already for ‘coddling’ him. He doesn’t even want me using his name. Thinks it humanizes him too much.”

“Mm.” Daniel watched silently for a moment as Allison picked at the skin of her cuticles. “Listen, why don’t you take a break? Go visit your family back east for a few days? I can keep an eye on the kid until you’re back.”

Allison scoffed softly.

“What, you don’t think I can handle it? I’ll bet I could calm him down in less time than it takes the twins to go to bed.”

“No, I think you’re underestimating the intensity of his mistrust. He wouldn’t let you get close enough to try. Besides, I can’t just leave right now anyway. We’re in the middle of trials and we have review deadlines soon. I couldn’t get time off if I tried.”

“Still, I think you’re taking on too much responsibility on your own. Regardless of the circumstances, you’re supposed to be working with a team. I know you feel like you can’t work with yours because your fundamental ideals are too different, but you can’t help him on your own. Let me help you. I can at least watch over him on your days off so you can actually relax.”

Allison shook her head. “You’re not familiar to him. He wouldn’t be calm with you, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“So tell him who I am. He’s seen me before.”

“He’s seen everyone before. And you all wear the same uniform. He won’t differentiate between you and Malcolm in terms of what he can expect during an interaction.”

Daniel chuckled quietly. “Maybe that’s true. But you got him to trust you, and you and all your fellow whitecoats look the same to me.”

“Building that trust took a long time.” She paused and twisted her glass absently in thought. “Although, it might not be a bad idea to familiarize him with someone else.” She contemplated the idea for a moment. “Tomorrow morning, when I release him, I’m going to take him to my lab for an examination because I’m almost certain he’s injured. It’d be a miracle if he wasn’t with how he was handled today. When I do, I can request you join me, for ‘security.’ If you’re present when he’s in a relatively vulnerable state and he realizes you’re not going to hurt him, it would at least be a good first step.”

Daniel shrugged. “I can do that.”

“Daniel.”

“Yeah?”

Allison hesitated, wondering if it was really wise to divulge her ultimate intentions, or rather her ultimate hopes. He’d never given her a reason to believe he’d betray her in all the years she’d known him, but this was a much greater risk, and if it failed, she would not be the only one detrimentally affected.

He seemed to notice her reservation.

“Allison.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “You know you can trust me. Okay? We've known each other for 17 years. Have I ever not had your back?”

She shook her head.

“I have children. You think I take pleasure in watching someone else’s kid be treated this way?”

“No.”

“No, I don’t. Whatever you want to do to help him, I’ll be on your side.”

She sighed, tapping her finger nervously on the table.

“I want to get him out,” she said finally.

“Okay, how do you propose we do that?”

Allison glanced around the bar, ensuring no one was within earshot before she replied.

“The pod he arrived in,” she began. “Is it still in Tech?”

Daniel narrowed his eyes a bit. “Yes...”

“How far along are they in restoring it to operative condition?”

“It probably won’t ever fly again, but they’ve gotten some of the computer system working, and they’re working on translating it. Where are you going with this?”

Allison was silent, processing the information.

“Wait, you’re not thinking of sending him back in that thing, are you?”

“No, of course not.”

“What, then?”

“...Do you think it has an SOS signal transmitter?”

Daniel blinked and his demeanor suddenly changed dramatically. He became tense and glanced nervously around the bar, then leaned in, lowering his voice to a murmur. “You want to call his people here? To retrieve him?”

“Yes. And if Malcolm is somehow right and there are others here, they might even be closer than we think.”

“Allison, we don’t know what kind of fight that might bring here. What if they see his treatment here as a threat? What if he spills his guts about everything and they want payback? If they decide that the Department’s actions are worthy of retribution and that they want to dish out justice themselves, do you think they’ll differentiate between those involved and those who are ignorant? Innocent people could get hurt!”

“I don’t believe they would hurt innocents.”

“You can’t know that for sure. And even if you did, do you think they would spare us? Do you think we wouldn’t be considered involved? I can’t risk my family getting hurt because of a misunderstanding.”

“You said you’d have my back.”

“And I do. You know I do. But you gotta think about this!”

“I have thought about it, Daniel. You don’t think I’ve considered all those possibilities? But he’s not safe here, no matter where we try to hide him. We’d have to be constantly looking over our shoulders. I couldn’t do that to you and Naomi and the twins, and I couldn’t condemn Sing to a life of constant fear of recapture. This is the only way to ensure permanent security for everyone. And I do believe that they have the capacity for diplomacy. If they demand justice, I believe fair judgement would be sought, not immediately carried out through violence, especially if Sing’s input is considered.”

“It’s a risk.”

“It’s one I’m willing to take.”

Daniel sighed and shook his head, rubbing his palms together nervously as he considered.

“You said you’d help me,” she reminded him. “I know this is the right thing to do. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I thought it would risk harm to you or your family in any way. I’m asking you to trust me. Please, Daniel.”

Daniel sat silently for several seconds, resting his mouth against his knuckles as he considered her request. Her palms began to sweat with each moment that passed, and she began to worry that it had been a mistake to reveal her plans to him, but then...

“Okay,” he said finally. Allison sighed heavily in relief. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

“As long as you can promise me that my family won’t get hurt. And, Allison, you’re part of that family. I’m not trading you for him.”

“I understand. You won’t have to.”

“Good. Now how exactly do you plan on communicating with them?”

“Like I said, I’m hoping the pod has some sort of built-in distress call. If it does, it should be easy to send out. I just need to figure out how to access that without Malcolm catching on.”