#sedative tw

She sleeps, mostly. Fitful dreams, flashes of memories and nonsense fill her mind. Everything inside of her is burning. The few times that she’s awake, the searing pain across her back has her whimpering and curling her hands into fists. 

Through it all, she’s aware of Lainey’s presence next to her. She can feel her heart beating steadily, can occasionally feel her palm brush her forehead and hear her murmuring reassurances. The only regret she’ll have in dying now is that she has to leave the poor girl on her own. 

Suddenly she’s jolted awake, though she can still barely convince her eyes to open. There’s something close by…a car. The rumble of the engine vibrates in her chest. Is Sir…leaving? He didn’t leave them extra water, though, did he? He really does want them to die.

But wait, no, that’s…far more than a car. The vibrations are growing, filling her lungs so that it’s hard to breathe. She glares up at the ceiling, fluorescent lights dancing and shimmering, trying to make sense of it.

“What is it?” Lainey’s voice floats by.

“Something…coming…” she mumbles. “Cars?” Dragging her hand up to her chest, she rubs at it weakly, trying fruitlessly to dispel some of the pressure. There are so many cars up above them. Loud cars. Cars full of people that are now spilling out, footsteps pounding the ground. “Too many…too many cars and…people.”

Lainey says something in return, but she doesn’t hear. Everything is just getting worse. There are noises drifting down the stairs, yelling and banging, but even worse than that is all of the movement. It’s so much more than she’s felt in such a long time. Dozens of heartbeats, feet running here and there, engines still idling. It crawls underneath her skin, from her center out through her limbs and into her fingers and toes, up the back of her neck into her skull. It feels like someone is pounding a mallet into her sternum. 

Closest of all is Lainey’s excited voice and elevated heartbeat. She wants to tell her what’s happening, wants to ask her to make it stop, but all she can do is moan and attempt to disappear into the floor. She can’t breathe, she can’t think. 

Just when some of it starts to calm down some, some of the footsteps and heartbeats start moving closer, bringing loud voices with them. Someone is in the basement. It fills her with automatic panic, but she can’t even stop to figure out what it means past the suffocating sensations taking over her body. It’s starting to turn painful. Little pinpricks all over, like fingernails digging into her skin. It won’t stop.

Then someone touches her. Touching means pain, always, but she can’t get away from it. All she can do is lie there, flinching and whimpering as it becomes harder and harder to draw in air. It’s too much. They’re tugging at her shirt, making her back flare with fiery pain, and moving her arms around and messing with the wound on her leg. 

All the while their heartbeats pound, pound, pound. Their breaths rake across her skin, their voices pierce her skull. The footsteps above have turned from fingernail pokes to needle pricks, and the engines might as well be cars running over her chest. 

Make it stop, make it stop!

Pol elbows Pete. “There’s a joke in there somewhere.”

“Hey!”

“Well it’s true,” Arm adds. 

Tankhun shushes them and turns to Kim and Chay. “You two look amazing, by the way!”

“Thanks,” Chay grins. Kim is ninety-nine-percent sure his boyfriend is blushing furiously under his cowl. It’s Porchay, for fuck’s sake. “Kim helped me with the makeup.”

“I like your mask,” Pete says. “You’re supposed to be Anne Hathaway’s version of Catwoman, right?”

Kim nods his assent. “It’s custom.”

“And he helped pick out this awesome Batman outfit!” Chay pipes, holding out the edges of his cape like the original comic logo. Kim stifles an indulgent smile – these costumes had technically been his suggestion, after all. He hadn’t wanted to state out loud that he’d been paying close attention to Chay’s new advantage in height, but that didn’t stop it from being true. “Isn’t the cape sweet?!”

“Super sweet,” Pol agreed. “Now, shall we head for the ballroom?”

—

Chay leans into his boyfriend’s side and whispers, “I’ve never been to a fancy Halloween party like this before. Will it be scary?”

“No,” Kim shakes his head. “Kinn planned it ‘to be fun’, so you don’t have to worry about business people showing up. It’ll be mostly off-duty bodyguards, staff, friends, and family.”

“Awesome.” Chay is hugely relieved. He follows Prince Tankhun and the three good fairies into the ballroom. Kinn and Porsche approach them. 

Chay barely holds back a snort of amusement. “Hia! What are you wearing?!”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Porsche huffs. He tries to cross his arms over his chest, but the gesture is interrupted by his fancy bra (made from two artfully bedazzled shells). 

“I’m Batman, and Kim is Catwoman. Isn’t he cute?”

“Meh, he’s alright.” Tankhun floats past the conversation only long enough to add. “He’s got a flat butt.”

“Phi!” Kim hisses, not unlike a cat.

“Sorry not sorry!”

Kinn chuckles and rolls his eyes at Chay, “Brothers, am I right?”

“Totally right, P’Kinn.” Kim and Porsche watch in horror as their boyfriends fist-bump. “So, what’s the pl–”

Chay’s question is cut off by a quiet scuffle near the door. Kinn excuses them both and scoops Porsche into his arms, hurrying to investigate. Kim and Chay stay put, chatting and joking. Everything is normal until Kim jolts forward and slaps a hand over his left ass cheek. 

“What the fuck?” Kim lifts his hand to show Chay a small green tube. “Babe, I am so sorry for whatever happens next.”

“P’Kim?!” 

“It’s a tranq dart, and my immunity for this isssss,” Kim trails off with a giggle. His eyes glaze over and he slumps more of his weight onto Chay. “Sssssss. That’s a fun sound.”

“Shit!” Kinn jogs over. “Did it hit him?”

“What do you think?” Chay deadpans as Kim continues hissing quietly through his teeth. 

“Okay. Right. Let’s get him upstairs.”

“Good idea.”

—

It takes Chay, Kinn, and two of the three good fairies to yank Kim free of his heinously tight pleather outfit. “Next year we’re going to do something less complicated.”

“Do you expect Khun Kim to get tranqued at a Halloween party every year?” Pol jokes. 

“Hey!” Kim complains. His eyes roll around the room, searching for one particular face. “Where is the Batman?”

“Hey babe,” Chay steps forward. He’s already swapped into pajamas and wiped (most) of the dark makeup from around his eyes. “I’m here.”

“It’s Bruce Wuce!” Kim exclaims with a theatrical gasp. “I mean Bayne Wayne!”

“Bruce Wayne?” Chay offers. His boyfriend tries to snap his uncoordinated fingers, but mostly they slide uselessly against each other. 

“Yeah! That guy.”

“You can just call me Chay,” he offers. Kim pouts adorably up at him and Chay waves the bodyguards out of the room. “Please ask someone to send up green tea and snacks, but otherwise I can handle this.”

“Are you sure, N’Chay?” “Oh yeah,” Chay laughs. “Do you know how many weird things I’ve heard Porsche say on morphine?”

“I want to hear about this,” Pol says. Arm agrees.

“Soon, but not right now.” Chay giggles. “Thanks again for helping me with P’Kim.”

“That’s literally our job.” “Well I appreciate how well you do that job. So there.”

“Ugh, how are you related to Porsche?!”

“Go,” Arm shoved Pol toward the door. “Leave the lovebirds alone.”

“I would be an owl,” Kim declares, startling Chay with his unexpected volume. Arm and Pol stifle laughter, hurriedly shutting the door behind them. 

“What would I be?” Chay asks, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Kim scoots awkwardly closer and squints in concentration. 

“Hmmm… A plover.”

“Why?”

“Small.” Kim cups his hands together to demonstrate and thoughtfully adds, “Fluffy. Good at surviving.”

Chay’s throat threatens to close up. Well, it does until Kim speaks again.

“Shoes are dumb and we shouldn’t have to wear them unless it’s for safety reasons.”

“Huh?”

“Slippers are okay, though.”

Chay bursts out laughing, and Kim joins him at a much higher pitch.