#traumatic flashbacks

The Super War they called it. It didn't last very long and everything happened so fast. Too fast. Honestly, the heroes were lucky to even have a chance to defend themselves. Hero thought it was a silly name, but given the casualties, that's what it was nevertheless. A war between Supers. Where Supervillain somehow managed to gather most of the villains of the whole country with one objective: level all the heroes and their legacy to the ground. Crush them, kill them, capture them and keep them as pets, it didn't really matter how. All that mattered to them was to destroy everything Hero had worked for. Those were the orders.

The fight was brutal and it lasted longer than it should have. Both parties suffered, heroes and villains. In the end, no one could tell which side won. All that mattered to Hero was that her close friends were somehow, miraculously alive. So what if her favourite place to snack was completely demolished? So what if her favourite park was in flames? So what if most of the heroes that had fought beside her were severely injured? So what if Supervillain was nowhere to be found? So what if he stole her power? Not that she needed it in the end, the punch she gave him was satisfying to say the least.

She didn't care. She didn't care one bit. None of that mattered. Hero rubbed her fingers against eachother.

Hero blinked, trying her best to ignore the pounding in her head, the ringing in her ears, the agony in her chest from running out of stamina, the way her knuckles flared from the pain whenever she moved her fingers. "What..." she gasped breathlessly. What was happening? One second she was punching Supervillain nonstop, the next she was...

"Hero!" Someone yelled loudly, too loudly, in her ear. "Oh my god, are you okay?!" Ecstatic, Hero wanted to answer, but all that came out was a pathetic "eh..." which admittedly summed up her situation. It was Hero 2 that came to her aid, his strong arms holding her up bridal style as he flapped through the air. The air rushed as he flew to who knows where, but not too high. He dropped on a terrace of an evacuated (hopefully) building, which was still intact. Somehow.

He gently put the Hero down, leaning her against a wall, safe and out of sight and sat in front of her on one knee, his body tense, ready for anything. "Hey, you okay? What..." he licked his lips as his eyes darted below, watching the fight from afar, "what happened back there?"

Hero groaned as she stretched, suddenly feeling exhausted. "What do you mean?"

Hero 2 just gave her one of his perplexed looks. His face was always so expressive. "What?"

"He took your powers away!" He nearly screamed at her, his voice manic and a bit desperate, his brown eyes wide. His wings ruffled behind him. Was he agitated? Angry? Upset? Who knew.

"Yeah, so?" Hero shrugged and immediately regretted the gesture, wincing at the pain on her shoulders.

"So?!" The winged man actually shouted at her this time, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder when he saw her wincing. "Why did you keep fighting?! He could have killed you!" His voice wavered. "You..." He got quieter then, "I saw him fling you to the ground! There was blood coming out of your head! I thought-"

"Some bushes cushioned my fall." Hero quickly interrupted him. "And it was just a scratch. Don't worry too much. We were trained for these types of situations, right?" She gave him a smile and turned her head towards the fight. Hero 2 did the same.

"Right." He mumbled. "It's chaos down there." His eyes darted from the ground to the skies, alert for any other hero who needed help. Then he swiftly turned his head towards Hero, so fast that she worried that he would break his neck. "Stay here." He gave her his radio. "Call for help. You've done enough." And with that he quickly jumped off the building and flew away.

Hero did not remember if she had called for help or not. Her memories were a bit hazy after that. She did remember waking up slowly, very slowly. She remembered staring at the ceiling, breathing softly while licking her lips repeatedly, even though her tongue felt like sandpaper. She remembered the steady beeping of her heartbeat. She remembered how thirsty she was and the dull ache of her body.

She didn't remember how long she was like that, could have been hours, could have been seconds. The nurses that came by to check on her nearly jumped out of their skin when they noticed her fully wide open eyes.

After the nurses calmed themselves down, they had explained that she was in a normal civilian hospital, and Hero remembered the empty feeling in her chest, remembered how she wanted to protest that that wasn't right, why would she be in a civilian hospital when she had powers. The nurses hadn't noticed Hero's inner turmoil and had explained to her how she had been asleep for nearly a month. No wonder she could barely move. The fight - or as the civilians called it, war - was over by then. Her memories were a bit hazy, but she did remember Superhero visiting her.

Which was weird, because she thought he didn't even know he existed. She'd thought she was hallucinating when she saw him in his civillain form, walking to her room like he personally knew her.

"How are you holding up, kid?" He asked as he sat on the chair beside her bed. It had been a few days since she had woken up and she had requested for her to be in a sitting position. She had had enough of the white ceiling. And by then she had remembered why she was in a civilian hospital in the first place. Not that she cared, she just needed a change of scenery. Seriously, who cared. It's not like she had her powers for that long, compared to the others. Beside her, Superhero made himself comfortable, his grey eyes twinkling. Or maybe that was just the light, playing tricks on her. Or maybe she was hallucinating for real.

"Okay?" Hero answered, her voice raspy and the Superhero chuckled.

"You don't seem so sure." He said, his dimples showing as he smiled. Hero's face heated up and she turned it towards the window, grateful that it was open, breathing in the fresh, cool air.

"Sorry," she apologized, hoping her red face wasn't too obvious, "I just didn't think you'd visit me."

The superhero huffed, but it wasn't ill-intended. Both of them knew that they had only spoke to the other rarely, when they had the fortune of teaming up. "I know, kid. Things have been a bit... hectic."

Hero didn't say anything to that. She didn't want to know the casualties, not yet. She gulped, suddenly aware of how thirsty and weak she was. Not that she cared. She didn't. She didn't! "So why are you here?"

Superhero sighed. "I heard about your powers, kid." Hero refused to show any emotion to that. She didn't care, why would she care? It was worth the crunch of her fist connecting with Supervillain's face anyway. "I'm sorry."

They stayed a minute in silence, Hero waiting for him to continue and Superhero... well she guessed waiting for her to break the silence. Or pitying her. Who cared. "But I also heard," Superhero said then, "that you managed to land a hit on him too."

Hero let out a short huff that could be mistaken for a laugh. "Yeah, well," She moved her fingers, clenching and unclenching them as some form of exercise, rubbing them against eachother, "what kind of hero would I be if I relied only on my power, right?"

That answer seemed to please Superhero. "I want to recruit you." He said suddenly. The hero paused the flexing of her fingers. Did she hear that right? Was this a prank? Was he mocking her? "Don't worry, it isn't not an order, it's a request. You don't have to answer right now."

They stayed in silence again, and Hero couldn't tell if the air was heavy or if she had trouble breathing now. The constant beeping in her ear seemed normal, albeit a bit faster. To work with Superhero, the Superhero, that was... well that was an opportunity that most of the heroes couldn't pass up. The reason so many heroes trained so hard their bones broke. To work with Superhero was an honor amongst heroes. Both Hero and Superhero knew that.

But they also knew that the stronger the heroes were, the more dangerous the villains and threats became. They knew that they had to stay on alert 24/7, ready for any vicious villain attacks, to always keep their mind on their friends and family's safety first (because who knew what sort of vengeful villain that would face them would do). So they both knew this wasn't an easy decision to make.

Something clinged and Superhero checked his phone. He frowned. "Okie-dokie, I need to go." He said as he slapped his hands on his legs as he got up. "Don't stress yourself too much about it. Just think about it while you're recovering, okay?" He ruffled her hair and went on his way, not bothering to look at her.

"Okay." Hero rasped, her mind reeling, her brain not even registering the hair-ruffling.

Hero was sent home after two months. It had been a few days since her recovery and she was still thinking about it. She wanted to. She wanted so desperately to work with one of the greatest superheroes alive, to fulfil her childish dream, even for just some short time. She hadn't been in the hero business long, not as long as her colleagues, but despite the hardships and broken ribs and stolen power... she loved her job.

But she also loved being realistic too. There was only so much she could do without her powers. Like it or not, she would be dead weight sooner or later. She couldn't imagine why Superhero gave her the offer. She stared at the wall as she thought about it, her shoes on her feet and her jacket over her shoulders, ready to go to HQ for her reports on the fight.

Hero stood at the door, frozen. She rubbed her fingers against eachother, some small part of her hoping that it would initiate a spark. Her electric powers were dangerous, but this was something she did to calm her nerves. The zapping sounds and the buzz on her fingers always brought her some sort of pleasant stimulation.

But there was no zapping or buzz now, just the uncomfortable feeling of her skin. Hero started to clench and unclench her fist. Her palms were sweaty and clammy. Her heart refused to slow down and pounded and pounded and pounded in her chest. She could feel her arms shaking and could vaguely notice her breaths becoming shorter and faster. Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time.

Could she even call herself a hero right now? Did she even have the right to just walk in HQ like usual, like nothing happened? To file reports like it was just another usual scuttle between heroes and villains? Honestly, Hero thought they would've given her the boot by now. Or maybe that's what was going to happen today, right after she'd step in HQ. Maybe they were all secretly laughing behind her back, saying how stupid and reckless she was for facing Supervillain head on. She wasn't really popular in the first place, so why would they even accept her? The only reason they talked to her before was because of her power and now? Now she was powerless? Just an ordinary civilian playing pretend. What was she without her power? What was going to happen to her now? What-

"You know there's a chance to bring them back, right?" Said a voice behind her. Hero froze, her breath hitching and she refused to turn around. Because turning around would mean acknowledging him.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...I know you can hear me." Villain sighed, shuffling so he could get more comfortable on the sofa. Hero's sofa. The sofa that she'd payed for with money that she'd gotten from her job. Hero's job of heroing. The job that she might not even have after today. In Hero's house. She turned around then, a look of annoyance on her face. Villain twirled his fingers in greeting with an impish look on his face.

"Get out of my house."

"So mean." The villain stood up and walked towards Hero slowly, enjoying every microsecond of the small twitches her annoyed face was pulling. "And after I came all this way to warn you."

Hero didn't say anything. Her fingers twitched instinctively, her body begging to give him just a tiny little shock.

Only to be reminded of her current predicament.

Hero huffed though her nose and her heart skipped a beat when she blinked and was met with Villain's chest right in front of her face. She met his gaze then. "Warn me about what."

Villain only hummed and twirled his fingers, causing the water in the sink to float around them. "Do you want them back?" He said, a trail of water flicking her nose. "Your powers, I mean."

I know what you fucking mean. Hero refused to show any emotion. She clenched her fists beside her to stop her fingers from fidgeting. "Warn me about what."

The trail of water surrounded them as Villain twirled two fingers in a circular motion over and over. He sighed dramatically. "Such a shame. What happened to you, I mean." Hero's jaw clenched. "And to think all the work we could've done together."

"Warn me." Hero's voice was low. "About. What."

"Are you sure you don't want them back?"

Hero's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, her grip strong. Villain only quirked his eyebrow at her. Hero's voice shook. With rage, regret, fear or something else, they didn't know. The villain stopped moving his fingers and the water fell on the ground with a splat. "Villain."

"Hero."

"...Warn me about what."

A beat of silence. Then Villain seemed to sigh in disappointment, before wrenching his wrist away from Hero's grip. Hero let him. As long as he wasn't mocking her by putting on a water show, she'd be fine. "That little scuttle you had two months ago," he flicked off an imaginary speckle of dust from his shirt, "was just the beginning."

Then he took another step forward, leaning in close and whispering in Hero's ear. She tried to step back, only for her back to be met with the door behind her. "You should really prepare yourselves. The plans Supervillain has made will exceed all your expectations. He will attack again, stronger than before, more ruthless than before. He's determined to find all of your weaknesses and crush you all beneath his boot."

Hero's mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Her fingers twitched at the mention of his name. The name of the one who ripped her power off of her. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Villain put a finger beneath her chin and raised her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. Hero was so glad that she didn't flinch. His eyes shone with predatory hunger and cruel amusement at the same time. His voice sounded playful, but Hero knew that he was being serious. "Because that litte stunt you pulled only succeeded in putting a large taget behind your back." He leaned in and whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you have any idea how many villains are foaming at the mouth just to get their hands on you?" He said, the look of amusement gone from his face. He grabbed her face suddenly, making her gasp. "Nobody is allowed to hurt you but me, Hero. Always remember that."

He let her go then, shoving her face away. Hero clenched her teeth, her heart pounding wildly. Villain only grinned, his usual impish look on his face as he stepped back with a knowing look.

"And it's not so fun without the suspense, am I right?"

Continued here

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🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️yeah not very whumpy, I know. @chaotic-orphan i blame you for this. (I was the one that sent the ask of your whump series making me write whump series. I'll blame you for everything I write here)

Hero standing in front of the door of her house trying to convince herself that she doesn't care (she's about to have a panic attack):

Hero 2's face after Hero said "so what" (supervillain literally just stole her power):

How Villain felt after telling Hero that there's a possibility that she could get her powers back right after she was starting to have a panic attack:

Me after opening a side blog just so I could write whump

He brushed his teeth, shaved, and scrubbed all the places that tended to smell, then washed his hand over again for good measure.  He lingered for another moment, studying himself in the mirror. He was still showing far too many bones, his belly concave like--like--there was an image just out of reach... 

His head twinged a warning, and he focused on finger-combing his hair, checking whether it was getting too dirty to touch. His master had applied a nice-smelling spray that cleaned his hair without water, taking time to comb it out section by section, twice in the last six days. It had been two days since the last time.

He would probably be due to have his hair cleaned again soon, but maybe...

Threetoo touched the tape securing the bandage on his stump, and then he heard his master call out from the elevator, "Threetoo, I'm home!"

Threetoo dropped smoothly to his knees and crawled out of the bathroom to await his master in the usual place in his own room, right beside the shelf with his collar.

He had only been kneeling there for a moment when his master arrived, carrying a tray that smelled promisingly of breakfast. 

"Hey, sweetheart." His master bent and kissed the top of his head, setting the tray on top of the dresser and pulling over the stool that let him sit comfortably with Threetoo at his feet. "Good morning, is it a good morning? What do you think?"

Threetoo smiled and nodded. "Good morning, sir."

"Excellent, glad to hear it, very good," his master rattled off, tapping one finger against Threetoo's chin. Threetoo tilted his face up, letting his master stroke his fingers lightly over Threetoo's throat and around the back of his neck. There was never any irritation for his master to find. His new red collar was so softly padded on the inside, Threetoo couldn't imagine how there ever would be, even if his master allowed him to wear it night and day.

"Okay, looking good here," his master murmured, picking up the red collar with its gold reward star. The gold tag with Threetoo's identification number on it made a happy little metallic sound as his master wrapped the collar around Threetoo's throat. His master fastened it swiftly and tucked his fingers in to check that it sat comfortably against Threetoo's throat.

"One of these days you're gonna start getting fat," his master promised him. "We're gonna have to let this thing out of a notch sooner or later."

Threetoo nodded agreeably and didn't look toward the breakfast tray.

"J," his master said. "You got Threetoo's weight for today?"

"One hundred fifteen--" Threetoo couldn't help tensing in anticipation, hope and dread all at once. "--point four pounds."

Threetoo's shoulders sagged, and his master shook his head, mussing Threetoo's hair with a gentle hand. "Hey, that's better--you're only down three-tenths today, we're getting there. You're stepping up in calories again today, you're gonna turn the tide soon."

Threetoo nodded obediently, though he knew that soon was still just the beginning. He was probably still at least two or three days away from even stopping losing weight, never mind starting to gain it back; he was still weeks, maybe months, from being ready to serve his master properly. Something quaked inside him, uneasy at the thought. He had to--he had to be useful, he had to serve or he was--was--

His master squeezed his shoulder. "You're doing exactly what I want you to be doing, sweetheart." The uneasiness evaporated, leaving Threetoo suddenly calm. What could he but calm when he was with his master? His master was smiling. "Resting, eating, getting strong, that's your job right now. Come on, let's have breakfast." 

His master probably hadn't eaten any breakfast of his own before Threetoo woke up. JARVIS had said a few things that made it apparent to Threetoo that his master could be forgetful about such things with regard to himself--but when it came to Threetoo, his special project, he was meticulous. Threetoo was being useful after all, his mere existence reminding his master to eat.

He felt warm, like some secret, silent reward had been dispensed from inside him.

Threetoo ate cheesy eggs and pieces of fruit and toast from his master's hand. His master gave him a glass to drink from, and Threetoo sipped sweet juice between bites, watching as his master enjoyed his own breakfast. His master talked mostly to JARVIS while they ate, dictating messages and reviewing plans, so Threetoo didn't have to pay special attention to anything but eating his breakfast and sitting quietly between his master's knees. All the food was familiar at breakfast, so he didn't even have to rate anything; his master already knew that Threetoo liked everything he was being fed. 

It was only when breakfast ended that Threetoo had to think again. His heart beat faster, anticipating. He knew what came after breakfast. He had been getting better in one way, at least.

His master wiped his own face and then Threetoo's, even though they were both tidy eaters and didn't need it. His master picked up the hand sanitizer from the shelf and cleaned his hands, and then he pulled over the kit from the dresser top, pushing the breakfast tray out of the way so he could open it there. "All right, bandage time, huh? Singular, bandage. This is the last one."

Threetoo nodded, dropping his gaze so that he wouldn't look as if he were begging. But he hoped--if his master remembered--if today was the day.. 

"And I think we talked about how, when you're all done with bandages, you're going to get a present to celebrate," his master murmured, wetting a cotton ball with stuff that made the tape on his bandages unstick painlessly. He wiped it over all the tape holding the bandage on his stump, then peeled it away.

Threetoo couldn't see the end of his stump without swinging it up to his face. While he was holding it still for his master, he could only watch his master's expression to know what was under the bandage. 

His master was frowning at first, looking without touching. He picked up a square of clean gauze and wiped it over the end of Threetoo's stump, and it came away wet and shiny with ointment, but no blood or pus. His master wrapped his left hand around Threetoo's stump then, prodding gently along the healing wound with his right index finger. It didn't hurt, not even the tiniest twinge. His master glanced toward Threetoo's hand, but Threetoo held it flat and absolutely steady.

His master smiled like the sun coming into view at the edge of Threetoo's skylight, his bright brown eyes jumping up from Threetoo's stump to meet Threetoo's gaze. "There you go, baby. You have a scar instead of a wound--it's all closed."

Threetoo grinned widely but held himself still, his stump held in his master's grip, trying not to presume anything. His master might still decide that the scar was too new, that it should still be bandaged.

His master took another piece of gauze and dripped some alcohol onto it. It felt cool, but didn't sting at all, as his master used it to clean the end of his stump. When he finished, sitting back slightly to look at the unbandaged stump, Threetoo felt more naked with those few square inches exposed than he did about the rest of his unclothed body. 

His master met his eyes again and nodded decisively. "Yep. No more bandages. That's healed. It needs to dry out and get used to the air now. So now you get a present--did you decide what to ask for?"

Threetoo licked his lips and nodded. His master had made an assortment of suggestions, and Threetoo had gone over some of them with JARVIS the day before, working out just what he wanted to ask for with JARVIS's assurance that his master would grant the request.

Threetoo swallowed and then said the words he had practiced. "I would like you to give me a bath, please, sir."

"Huh," his master said, smiling. "What do you know, I think we just got eight new bottles of bubble bath in the grocery delivery yesterday, so your timing is perfect."

Threetoo's mouth flashed into a big, wide smile. JARVIS had anticipated this moment without quite telling his master for him, smoothing the way for Threetoo and ensuring that he would ask for something his master would be pleased to give.

He caught a startled expression on his master's face for a second, his master's gaze dropping from Threetoo's eyes to his mouth before his master's smile also widened. Threetoo already knew that his master liked him to be happy, but every time it was confirmed it got easier to really be happy and to be sure that being happy was the right thing to do. He felt that rush of warmth inside again, the secret reward.

"J, please run a bath for Threetoo," his master said, and the sound of running water in the bathroom started up instantly. "Come on, let's go pick out what you're gonna smell like today." 

Threetoo crawled eagerly after his master, out of the bedslave's room and back to the bathroom. The enormous tub was positioned under another skylight, and the lowest part was already filled with water. Threetoo could feel the heat of it rising up into the air, welcoming like a spot in the sun or in front of one of the fireplaces. His master waved him toward it while he went and rummaged through a cabinet, retrieving a stack of soft fluffy towels in assorted colors and patterns, plus a wire basket full of full plastic bottles. He brought all of this over to the edge of the bathtub where Threetoo was sitting on his heels, waiting.

"Go on, get--hang on." Threetoo froze at the contradicted order.

His master set everything down and bent over to unfasten his collar, setting it on the edge of the tub, ready to be put back on as soon as he was out. Without either his collar or his bandages, Threetoo felt sharply, newly naked--but he ought to be naked with his master. It was a privilege to show all of himself to his master, to offer himself for his master's pleasure.

Threetoo crawled down into the tub and settled in the lowest part, wiggling his toes underwater and enjoying the way warmth surrounded his ass, his genitals, rising up over his bony hips. His knees rising out of the water seemed to double in his vision for an instant--he had seen this before--and then time stuttered through a low warning throb of pain at the base of his skull, and Threetoo saw only his own knees, his master's bathtub.

He had nothing to remember. Nothing came before this. He was having his first bath now. His master was showing him special favor by allowing it.

His master settled on a higher ledge of the stepped tub with his feet bracketing Threetoo's body, his feet bare and pants rolled up nearly to his knees. A whole row of bottles and a basket full of other items were beside him, having appeared while Threetoo was lost in the stuttering of time. The water was up to Threetoo's belly, too.

His master began opening and sniffing the bottles. The third one, he held out to Threetoo. "How about this? Smells like something you'd like to eat."

Threetoo closed his eyes and breathed in, then opened them to grin up at his master. It did smell like something he'd like to eat; it smelled like hard candy, citrus-sweet. His master tried a few others, then offered him another option--sweet again, but softer, laden with sugar and vanilla like a cookie. One of the bottles made his master frown, capping it again decisively and rolling it toward the bathroom door without remarking on it; Threetoo saw U grab the bottle and whir quietly away with it.

The bottle after that met with his master's approval, and was offered to him. The smelled less obviously candied--apple and spice, a cleaner, sharper scent. "Orange, vanilla, or apple, sweetheart, what'll it be?"

His master positioned the three bottles in a little row, making it easy for Threetoo to point once he made his selection. After a moment he chose the sweetest and softest, extending his finger to almost touch the vanilla bottle. 

"Beautiful, okay," his master assented. He picked something out of the basket and unwrapped it from a twist of paper, dropping what looked like a fistful of candies into the bath. They fizzed and foamed in the water, filling it with mounds of sweet-smelling bubbles that blanketed the water, hiding Threetoo from view as the water rose up his body.

He felt a twinge of worry at that--he was naked, he was to be seen--but his master was already soaping a cloth and beckoning Threetoo closer. "Let's have those feet, sweetheart.” 

The worry dissolved in certainty. His master wanted to touch him, slippery-wet and sweet-smelling. It was only his first bath, but Threetoo knew how this worked. He smiled and lounged back in the water, raising one foot up in a graceful line.

His master snorted and smiled, and then began soaping Threetoo's foot and up his leg with a soft cloth. Threetoo let his eyes close, and his certainty spread through him, painless and steady. There would be no punishment-pain now, and time would proceed in perfect order, as long as he obeyed. As long as he pleased his master.

Threetoo scooted forward at a gentle tug on his foot, letting his master wash all the way up his thigh. His master was quiet, and Threetoo opened his eyes just enough to see the intent look on his master's face, quiet and focused on the task of cleaning him. Threetoo shut his eyes again, sensing that his master was about to look in his direction, and a second later his master pushed Threetoo's right foot back. Threetoo offered the left without being prompted, sinking into the pleasure of his master's touch and the certainty of doing right. 

The soft rushing of water cut off, leaving Threetoo and his master in an all-new silence, broken by the lapping of water and their breathing.

"Kneel up," his master murmured, and Threetoo obeyed, spreading his knees wide for his master to wash between them. As always, his master washed to the tops of his thighs and his genitals with the same efficient gentleness as he washed Threetoo's feet. He motioned for Threetoo to turn his back, and Threetoo shuffled around on his knees, closing his eyes and bowing his head as his master washed his ass and then his back, pausing to soap the cloth again. 

"Okay, you can sit." His master tapped the top of his shoulder, and Threetoo sank back into the warmth of the water and the froth of bubbles. His master, behind him, washed his stump and under it, then his right arm from fingertips to armpit. He washed Threetoo's neck and throat, and behind his ears, and then Threetoo heard an odd slithery metallic sound and carefully didn't look around to see what made it.

"Here, look." His master leaned forward a little, holding the object out for Threetoo to see without turning his head. It looked like a detachable showerhead; the metallic sound was from the flexible jointed-metal hose.

Threetoo looked sharply away from it the silver shine of it, flexing his right hand under the water and pushing up clouds of foam. He tried to see the individual iridescent bubbles, and not--anything else. What else should he see? There was nothing here but a bathtub and his master. 

"It's okay, it's nice this way. You can rinse without putting your head underwater," his master explained. Threetoo didn't know why his master should care whether Threetoo had to put his head underwater; maybe it was a preference of his master's that he assumed everyone shared.

There was a gentle rush of warm water on his shoulder, giving him a moment to learn the sensation before it shifted to the back of his neck and then squirted behind each ear, making him shiver again though the water was perfectly warm. 

"There, all clean," his master murmured. "Hair next, tip your head back for me."

Threetoo obeyed, letting his eyes almost close as the soft spray of water moved to his head, soaking his hair without spilling a drop onto his face. His master set down the sprayer--Threetoo could feel the warm disturbance in the water as it poured into the bath just behind his right elbow--and picked up a bottle. Threetoo smiled in anticipation at the sound of it uncapping, and then there was the cool heavy touch of shampoo on the crown of his head.

"Hmm, I think I spotted your favorite part of your present," his master murmured, as he gathered up Threetoo's hair with both hands, rubbing the shampoo around.

Threetoo licked his lips and whispered, "Thank you, sir."

"You're very welcome, sweetheart," his master murmured, rubbing strong fingers over his scalp, working the shampoo in everywhere.

Threetoo's eyes closed and he lost himself in his master's touch, his master's kind attention. It all fit into place now. It all made sense. No new rules to remember, no data to collect or report. This was easy. 

His master took his time washing Threetoo's hair, then carefully rinsed it with the sprayer, running perfectly heated water through it. His hands were gentle, combing through Threetoo's wet hair to make sure every strand was rinsed, and then just playing the warm water over his head.

The slave opened his eyes and looked up at his master with a little smile. His master was just drawing it out now. The slave twisted under the water without shifting out from under it, but his master withdrew it as soon as he started to move.

The slave's smile widened as he put his hand down between his master's feet to steady himself, leaning into the inviting angle of his master's thighs. His master still had his pants on, but he had also refrained from getting the slave's face wet, so if he was very careful he could do this correctly. He nuzzled at the inside of his master's thigh, and his master said--

But he knew what to do; he knew what needed to happen next.

His master's voice rose, but the sound glanced off his perfect certainty. He knew what to do. Even if he was punished later--he couldn't avoid being punished. He would be honored to be punished. Now there was only the careful brushing of nose and lips toward his master's crotch, not letting his wet hair drip or his wet skin touch.

His master's hands were on him, and he pushed into the touch, pleased at the evidence that he was doing right. He gave a coy glance up as he brushed his lips against his goal, but--

His master--Sir--

He dropped his gaze and pushed, and his master pushed back hard, shoving him away. He fell under the surface of water, and the sudden silence of immersion made him aware that his master had been not just speaking to him but shouting. Threetoo squeezed his eyes shut against the belated pulse of pain and sick terror, scrabbling at the bottom of the tub with his one hand to stay underwater where his master had put him, to hide from whatever was going to happen when he came back up. 

But his master's hands were on him again, hauling him out into the cool air, and he couldn't do anything but open his eyes. Time was stuttering on him, but he still saw, in horrible flashes, his master's wide eyes and pale, stricken face, his master's clothes wet from fishing him out of the tub.

"Jesus Christ, Threetoo," his master gasped, at some point, still standing in the water, still holding him half out of it. "Don't--don't do any of that ever again, please, okay?"

Threetoo nodded, because there was nothing he could do but obey the order, however vaguely worded, however little he was sure what he had done. 

His head was throbbing with punishment-pain, and time skipped forward in dizzying jumps: he was out of the tub. He was wrapped in towels and lying on the floor while his master leaned over the sink, his hands braced on its surface and shoulders heaving. His master was carrying him.

He was in his room, lying on the floor, and his master was drying his hair, pausing only to take a sip of Scotch--something Threetoo had never seen or smelled on him in the last six days--from the glass on the floor beside him. He was in the pillow box, and his master was sitting on the floor just outside and the glass was empty.

His master was gone. The pain was gone. That jump in time felt different; time steadied now, and he realized that he must have slept. He lay still for a moment, tempted to burrow deeper into his pillows and blankets and hide from whatever further punishment awaited him.

His gaze fell on his plant. The light had shifted--it was afternoon now--and the plant was in shade. He sat up and moved it into the light, and then realized he was thirsty, and got himself some water from the tap.

He heard quiet footsteps approaching and looked toward the door just in time to see his master step into view. He stopped right on the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with his hands at his sides, saying nothing, giving no directions.

He was wearing different clothes, and looked tired, but not dangerously drunk. He looked like Threetoo's familiar master, who was good to him, who didn’t believe in punishing, only correcting. 

Threetoo's chest ached with something he couldn't name, and he moved quickly, scrambling out of the pillow box and across the carpeted floor to kneel at his master's side. He pressed his face to the outside of his master's hip, careful not to put his face where he had before, when he--when he did the wrong thing that had seemed right. His master had told him not to do that again.

His master's hand settled on top of his head, keeping him there, assuring him that this was the right place for him to be. The ache in his chest didn't ease, exactly, but he thought he could grow used to it. 

"From now on you take showers," his master said quietly, rubbing his fingers through Threetoo's dry hair. "And you are not doing any job but getting better until I tell you to. Got it?"

Threetoo nodded against his master's hip, and his master took his hand away.

"Okay. Come on, time for you to eat something. Gotta get that weight up, right?"

Threetoo straightened up and nodded, looking up at his master.

"And you need this, don't you?" His master drew the shiny red collar out of his pocket, with its gold star still attached.

Threetoo put his chin up and his master gently closed the collar around his throat, then ruffled his hair again. Threetoo caught the over-sweet smell of soft vanilla, and he felt a little sick as he crawled after his master, but he knew he would eat what he was given. It was his job to get well.