"Sweetheart? Oh… Oh, sweetheart. No. No…"

Henry's chest tightened.

At first, the feeling was an eerie chill that turned into a sinking sensation, a bleak void that opened into his chest, sucking in every feeling other than that sinking sensation. It morphed then, to his limbs, his arms and legs, a tingling that bordered on numbness. Within him, the realisation struck first with the intensity that shook his core. And then, from the initial pain and fright, the feeling that engulfed him turned different. It became a sliver of anger, not at you, but at himself for not having seen the signs sooner.

His arms by his side were weak. They hung by the fabric of his suit almost at an uncomfortable angle. The sight of you like that had drained from him all thoughts about his stance.

Henry was frozen in the doorway for a few long seconds. He knew time was relative, but never before did he feel a few agonising seconds expand to such lengths, to what felt like an endless aeon of all dreadful sentiments at once. The words he spoke came off his lips without much of his mind's effect, but solely as the instinctive call upon seeing you in such a state.

At first, it was the shock and its aftermath, the effects upon him, but the aftershock was greater. He forced his feet to work, and he walked in the room, finding himself by your side without registering the length of the short distance.

He knelt by the edge of the bed, hands on your knees, his pupils scrambling behind his glasses to study your face. But each glimpse of that pained look, the tears from your cheek, the red soreness of your eyes and the pained panting all made his heart turn in on itself.

Scrunching harrowingly at the sight.

"Sweetheart?"

You were avoiding his eyes, and Henry tried fruitlessly to catch yours. All he got to see was the pain inscribed, etched into your face rather than the look in your eyes. He had glimpsed only for a moment before, enough to see the physicality of them, but not to glance past them into your heart.

"You didn't tell me…" Henry stated, his hands anchoring themselves on your knees. The size of his palms and fingers left a warm imprint underneath them as they rested on your legs. His thumbs started to move, in a slow motion intended to soothe you and perhaps himself. His words had been a statement that, upon being spoken out loud - be it in a quiet voice - had reflected back to you the severity of what you had been doing.

When one is harming themselves, their world narrows upon that soothing pain, the desire to replace the ache of one's heart with something feasible. With a marking on one's body that can be seen and accounted for. Something raw and visible against the unheard ache within. When that would happen, it would become a distant thought what the actions themselves amounted to, how it would be seen outside the flimsy circle of one's comfort. Perhaps the temporary pain was so, a comfort to one's soul, but from outside, someone would so easily see how this was but a warning, a neon warning of how pained one was.

"Have you?…" the question that came from Henry sounded accusatory, but not toward you. Toward himself. He worried that you had left him signs, clues, that he had failed to see as he focused on his own plans. So much so that he didn't notice your pain, one that he, of all, should have understood best.

"No." "No… I… I feared so. Sweetheart…"

Henry's head bowed forward, his forehead resting on your knees as his hands slid around your knees, hugging them as his face nestled against the spot that his palms had already warmed. The man wasn't going to pry, or to accuse you or to lash out. He knew the emotional turmoil would only be worsened by a flurry of questions, so he remained quiet at first.

The sharp metal object, discarded by your side before it could've been used this time, waited. Henry turned his head, his other cheek now on your knees, and his hand reached over to take the object.

At first, your hand reached over to oppose, but it remained hanging in the air a few inches next to his, as his head left your knees to look at you as he removed the threat from next to you. He stood up, heavily, his right foot planted into the wooden floor first as he pushed himself up, taking the sharp tool aside and leaving it in a drawer, with the intention to dispose of it fully after comforting you.

Henry turned to you after the item was gone from sight, and sat by you on the edge of the bed, his hand taking yours, thumb brushing the inside of your palm with slow circular strokes.

"Were you going to do it, sweetheart?" "…I wanted to."

Henry quieted for a moment, his hand continuing to soothe yours. Then he scooted closer to you, turning to face you, despite your attempt to look away. His eyes lingered on your cheek as you avoided him, but he was patient.

Despite his ardent desire to pull you into him and promise you the world. When at long last you faced him, it was for a second. Your eyes welled up with tears, a feeling of shame and guilt pushing you to hide from him again.

But Henry didn't let it happen. His free hand found your cheek, and he stopped you gently from turning away.

"Hey… hey…. no. No, sweetheart. Look at me, could you do that, please?" He asked, barely above a whisper, his hand sliding from your cheek to your nape, fingers lingering in your hair and gently stroking the back of your head with his nails.

When you did, sniffling, hand attempting to wipe the tears, he nodded, leaning closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Good. Thank you…" And after a small pause, he reinforced it again, kinder, warmer. As warm as Henry Creel could sound. "Thank you."

A look in your eyes had been enough.

Your head leaned forward, resting against his shoulder, and Henry wasted no time in guiding you onto his lap, his hand resting by your nape, massaging lightly as the other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you snug against him. You were at the height of your pain; he knew it, and equally he knew he had to let you ride that pain in his arms before he'd ask what caused them.

Oh, Lord forbid if it was someone that had caused it, another being; he'd be sure to punish them. And yet, he had to restrain himself. To not be brash. What you needed now was safety and comfort. His head leaned against yours, and the arm that coiled around your waist slowly moved to tighten the hold more. To give you a comforting pressure and feeling that he had you. That you were secured in his arms.

"Do you want to tell me about it, sweetheart?" Henry dared to ask after more minutes past of just quietness. Of him embracing you with the only sound the distant ticking of the grandfather clock and the scent of pie from the kitchen. That was how he found you, after all. He had come to let you know food was ready… and such a lucky timing it had been that his pie was done when it was. "… you're not ready?"

The soft shake of your head made him understand it was best to refrain from prying.

"I understand…" Henry assured you, "But you know you can trust me?" "Mhm…" "That's good, sweetheart… And… When you feel ready, will you tell me then?"

You hesitated. Henry felt that hesitation, ceasing the stroking motion at your nape to glance down at you as he waited for your reply. Surely he could find the answer by himself in your mind; it was an easy task, and yet he promised himself that he wouldn't force his powers on you without your consent. He promised himself he would wait for you to be ready.

"I don't want to burden you with it. It's… it's dumb. It's always something dumb, and it's… making me do this, and it hurts… it hurts that I can't find a better way to…"

Henry saw you were getting worked up, and he hushed you gently with a kiss on your head.

"Sweetheart. What you feel… right here…" Henry placed a kiss on your forehead, then leaned down. He pecked the spot on your shirt above your heart, "… whatever it is, you are all I have, sweetheart, and anything you feel… I can help you. Not now…" His hand left your nape, resting on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin, feeling beneath it the pain of each tear you allowed to drip down it. "But when you feel ready."

"Henry…" "No, sweetheart, I know you want to diminish the importance of what you feel, but I won't let it. There are very few things I won't give you freedom to do, and this is one of them." Henry said, slightly more stern in his tone. "Whenever you allow me… Whenever you feel ready, I can make it all go away. There won't be any need for that anymore."

His tone was akin to a scoff when he referred to that; his head turned to the drawer where the blade lay discarded by him.

"You're not alone, sweetheart. I had once been in this awfully gloomy place… My mind… it was not different from yours. But then it all changed. And… I know it will change for the better for you too. But you have to trust me…"

You nodded as he spoke, his thumb rewarding you with the soft soothing strokes on your cheek.

"Promise me…"

Henry whispered, leaning down so his forehead was resting against yours.

"That next time you feel this way… you will come to me… I won't pry, I won't push, I won't make you say anything you don't want to, sweetheart. I want to have the chance to hold you and show you that there is no reason for you to go through it all alone…"

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⏾⋆.˚ 001 dots on you because he sees in you both someone who has the potential to understand him, and because you could be useful to him. Pretty quickly, he goes from watching after you more intently than he would with others to being overly protective of you.

"Hello, my little sleepyhead." "Will you ever stop with that?" You smiled, despite trying to sound annoyed at the name-calling. It didn't bother you; if anything, you found it sweet. However, you did like sounding pouty because he was almost always sure to treat you even nicer. "The others tease me about it." "That is very rude of them, sweetie. Would you like me to tell Papa that they are mean?" "Didn't you say we can't trust Papa?" 001 lowered his head, hiding a soft guilty smile. "We can't... but we also can't let him know that we know that."

⏾⋆.˚ During your days in the lab, he lingers around you more than he would with others, even if he knows that it ought to get him punished if Papa has a bad day or if one of the guards is keen on showing off. With the risk in mind, he still comes and sits by you, smiling at you and even softly nudging his shoulder into yours to make you feel comfortable. He knows how he wishes someone had been that nice to him when he first came, so he tries his best to make your stay a little better than his had been.

"Hey sweety..." "You shouldn't stay with me so often; I know Papa and the guards don't like you picking favourites." 001 would chuckle and lean into your ear, "Oh, you know they never like anything. I will be fine." "But they are mean to you when you don't do what they want." "Oh, I prefer that they are a little rude, if that means I get to make you smile more. Hm?"

⏾⋆.˚ He finds ways to sneak things he shouldn't sneak to you. Most often, he manages to get his hands on treats, sweets especially, which he only manages to get because he steals them from the guards. It's a fun activity, because he gets you something that makes you excited, all the while watching the guards fight each other about who ate the other's lunch. 001 knows he'd have to lay off for a while before Papa catches onto it, but while he still can, he will sneak you those treats.

"Where did you get that from? Oh, this tastes incredible." 001 would smile at himself proudly, playing with his hands in his lap as he watched you eat. He never kept any for himself, because your joy was always more rewarding than any treat. Even so, you always gave him half, despite his refusal each time. In the end, he'd take it for you and eat it while glancing at you. "Doesn't it?" "It does..." "So where did you get it from? Papa never lets us have this stuff... and the other orderlies don't get it either. You mischievous boy have a naughty deal going on." You'd tease, hiding with him away from the cameras to enjoy your sweet treat. "I do... But it's very secret, and I can't tell you." You never pressured him into telling you the truth; as long as he was safe doing it, the source he got it from didn't matter that much.

⏾⋆.˚ 001's protectiveness extends not only to you, but to anything you hold dear. If you become attached to anything in the playroom or in your room, 001 will go the extra mile to make sure the guards or Papa or the other experiments won't mess with it. If you become attached to a toy and he notices anyone messing around with it, he would stand up to the item protectively, even if that would get him in trouble or punished. He knows it means a lot to you, and he'd rather get a temporary pain in defending it than having to see you upset over it getting damaged.

When you find out he got hurt protecting your favourite item, you start scolding him at first, but he doesn't seem to mind the pain as much as he is hurt that you are upset.

"I tried... did they damage it?" "What are you talking about? I don't... I don't care! Are you alright? What went through your head to do that..." You would inspect him anxiously, while he would watch you with soft, worried eyes. "It's... It's just a thing; it's replaceable, for fuck's sake, you aren't, though. Never do that again." When you'd cling to him out of concern but glad he was fine, he would freeze at first, then his arms would wrap protectively around you, his head nestled against your shoulder again. As your hand would reach his back, he'd tense a little, due to you having touched a sore spot from the punishment. You'd try to lean back and apologise, but he'd squeeze you tighter in his arms, without letting you go. "No. No... That's fine, sweetie. Don't... Don't worry about that." "I hurt you!" "No, never say that. Shh... Papa and his bad man hurt me, not you. Never, you sweetie."

⏾⋆.˚ Another thing 001 likes to do around the lab with you to pass the time in a more comforting way is to create stories. He remembered this one game one time and suggested you play it, and then it stuck, and you wouldn't go without it. At first, he'd say a sentence, and then you'd continue with another, and then he'd reply and so on until you'd create a small story of your own. Sometimes it was a funny one. Sometimes it was reflecting on your shared angst of the lab. Sometimes it uncovered your secret desire for love and affection, which you both had to keep private in this place and away from Papa or the other experiments.

"Today, after I finished all my work dutifully as an orderly, I was going to visit Papa." "I was so focused on my thoughts about Y/N that I didn't see Papa in front of me, and I bumped into him!" 001 rolled his eyes, smiling, "And then when Papa turned and saw it was me, he said, angrily..." "... 'Peter Ballard', you are a dork >:(" 001 sighed, pretending to be grumpy and trying to hide his chuckle, "Oh come on, you know Papa better! He wouldn't say that..." You snickered, nudging his knee with yours, "It's fiction. He can say anything I want him to say."

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"Papa sa-... Hey? Sleepyhead? My little sleepyhead, what's wrong?"

Henry's easy tone had grown concerned within seconds; the lilt gone from his voice and replaced with a raspier sound echoing from his chest as he stopped to kneel by you. He sensed something was wrong; he felt there was a shift in the way you behaved about a minute ago, but at first, he brushed it off. He didn't think much of that small change, but now he saw it had escalated.

The concern was genuine, as was your body's reaction, which he observed take place. Henry took your hands in his upon seeing the panicked disorientation in your eyes. He had you sit down, your back against one of the rainbow walls in the playroom. It felt cold, sterile against your back, even through the fabric of your shirt. It grounded you, but only for a second before your limbs went tingly, the hot sensation in them replaced by a chill, so confusing it was that you couldn't discern what temperature you felt. Were you hot, cold? Nothing was clear, nothing but the increasing thud of your heart as it rampaged against your ribcage, the sound echoing within you, resonating with every cell of your being until everything you could focus on was the rapid clash of your heart and the maddening ringing it caused in your chest and ears at once.

It was frightening and confusing. Everything felt hot and cold at once, burning, freezing and disorientating. It was daunting. It felt as if there was no escape from this feeling. As if there was only an impending doom, an end. And it was creeping in closer. Your lips got dry, your heaving was causing your chest to rise painfully; teeth clenching as you felt the panic worsening, all within seconds.

"Look at me..."

Henry spoke. For a moment, his tone, soft, encouraging yet laced with concern, barely registered in your ears. Your ears were overcome with the maddening ringing that muffled all around you, but even so, the vague tone broke through the haze. His words hardly made sense at first; they were a jumble of sounds that bore a resemblance to a language which you felt you knew but couldn't understand at this time. Your heartbeat, increasing by the moment, made the room feel threatening, smaller, the walls closing in.

But Henry didn't give in.

"Sweetheart? Sweetheart."

Your mind was fighting against you, as if trying actively to conceal the meaning of the sounds Henry was producing. Your eyes searched for him, but he knew from the frightened, lost glint that you needed him. His hands tightened their hold on yours, his thumbs stroking the back of your hands in a soothing motion. The rhythm was meant to ground you, to give you a sensory impulse to focus on other than the rubble that was crashing your mind.

"Sweetheart. Sweetheart? Hey..."

This time, for a figment, the word was clear enough that you knew its meaning. Its intent. Your eyes focused on Henry, that distant, frightened gaze finding its anchor in him. That was all he needed. One second to connect, to feel you. Henry caught it and smiled. A soft, encouraging smile, lips arched ever so slightly as his hands continued to caress yours. His concern would have scared you more, so he tried to seem calm.

"That's it, sleepyhead. Good... good. You're with me now, hm?"

You swallowed hard. The panic hadn't subsided, but at the very least, you could focus on Henry now.

"It's just you and me. My... you're breathing so quickly, sweetheart. That's not good. Here..."

Henry took your hand to his chest, gently holding it there as he breathed in slowly, nodding to you.

"Try to follow me, sleepyhead. Focus. I know you can do it. It seems tough now, no? But you're such an extraordinary little thing, I'm sure you can follow, hm? Let's try..."

He took in a deep breath, holding it. Then Henry exhaled really slowly.

Henry noticed you trying your best, saw the flush in your cheeks, felt the rapid thud of your pulse. He knew how hard it must be to ground yourself, but he wasn't going to let go.

"Very well, sweetheart... Let's do that again, hm? One more time..."

Henry repeated the gesture. Another deep, profound breath, which he held before exhaling deeply, slowly. You followed as much as you could, and even though you had repeated this a few times. Your breathing was arguably better, your ears were still ringing and that uncomfortable fright was still eerily looming around you. Henry didn't budge in his attempt to comfort you. Not for a second.

He continued steadily to help your breathing even out, as that would give him an easier time with the rest of your senses. Only after your breathing relaxed and your heart ceased some of its relentless race, did he allow your hand to leave his chest. But he didn't let go of it entirely, only allowed it to come down and rest.

Henry suspected how tense your muscles would be after this, how painful and achy and dreadfully horrible the aftermath would be. And still you weren't even there yet.

"You know, sweetheart, it's okay to be scared. Frightened. But I am here... and when I'm here, I can make sure you're safe... even from this," Henry whispered, one hand holding yours, the other stroking your temple for a moment, then seeking to brush your hair aside. "May I?"

Henry knew not to push any boundaries when you were feeling like this, so it was only after you nodded that he carefully freed your face from the wild strand of hair that covered it.

"Good... mhm. That's better. Do you feel better?"

You nodded, jaw clenched and sore.

"I would like that better if I got to hear that pretty voice of yours, sleepyhead." He smiled, trying to be as warm and helpful as he could. "No? Hm... that's alright too. How about a little game so I can hear you? Just between the two of us. Without Papa ruining our fun again."

Henry took his hand to your cheek, hand lingering above it until you nodded, agreeing to give him permission to hold it.

"It's a silly game. Tell me... three things that you can see. Hm?"

You knew what he was doing, but it was helpful nonetheless. Your eyes scanned the room behind him, around yourself, then, with a heavy swallow, you tried to part your lips to speak.

"I see... you."

"Oh, sweetheart," Henry chuckled, "I'm a hard one to miss." He grinned, and that sunny smile made you blush and, for a moment, smile too. "And? What else?"

"The rainbow." "Good, good. That's amazing, sweetheart. One more?"

You glanced around yourself, but didn't manage to see anything that caught your attention quite like his badge.

"Your badge."

Henry grinned again, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"You've done so well, sleepyhead. So well." His other hand came to stroke your other cheek, and your eyes closed as he did, the feeling warm and comforting, making you lean into him.

Henry felt your body relax little by little until you became mellow and tired, worn out as you rested against him. His arms kept you safe around him, then his eyes caught the time for a second. He sighed. Soon, the other orderlies would come, or even Papa, and if they'd see you like this, they'd run you to the nurse and maybe hurt you more.

Henry used the opportunity to help you lean on him, his arms scooping you up. Holding you in his chest. That was... risky. Papa didn't like it when Henry did that, but the orderly didn't seem to mind this time, as he kept you up and began to walk with you outside the playroom. He would take you away to rest, and if Papa found out... he'd think of an excuse then. Better than to let him have you.

"Let me take you back to bed, hm? I'll stay with you until you feel all better... We don't want those other mean orderlies to show up and take you away and tell Papa about this, hm?"

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"Your attempts are... disgraceful. Weak."

There was no further need for Henry to maintain his perfectly curated human form as he carried you out of the cave, without once looking back at the place that revealed far too much to him. He tried to block those thoughts and the surge of realisations which came with them, for it was too far and too late now to go back.

When you tried to escape from him a few times, as he dragged you to meet the Mind Flayer, he figured you were doing little to actually liberate yourself, perhaps aware that there was no way you could indeed free yourself this time. Each attempt was met with a grunt, low and serving as a warning more than anything, but never words. He knew if he spoke, you would ask what he saw and try to pull him back from his goal, and he couldn't have that. So he continued taking you along in silence, feeling the heavy air between the two of you.

Was he worried?

Henry couldn't understand what he felt, for it was a strange mingling of sensations that caused him to become rather confused. Beforehand he didn't have such thoughts, but now he did. He began to question more avidly than before what the Mind Flayer wanted to do with you, and if all of this struggle was worth it. You didn't want this, with your own unblemished memories, without his influence; you didn't want this. But the Mind Flayer did, and there was little he or you could do when he had to be Its agent and bring you.

You had never been, in full consciousness, to the place where the Mind Flayer resided, that dimension so arid and lifeless that, in itself, upon entering it made your skin crawl. Henry remembered his own feelings when he first came and, for once in this journey, had turned his head to you, coming to a stop when the Mind Flayer was still some safe distance away.

"Are you scared?"

You lifted your head to look at him, but shortly after meeting his gaze, you let your head drop again, without an answer. Not that you didn't want to talk, but was there anything to say to that? Was he genuinely curious, or was this a sort of question meant to frighten you further, as if this whole... place wasn't already too much to take at once?

"It will no longer scare you once you see it." "Because everything will pale in comparison? I saw a vision of it when you decided to tell me the truth; I saw it." "..." Henry was quiet, and his hesitance looked all the more odd as you watched the pursing of his tendrils around his face as he tried to give you an answer. "No." "No?" "It might... frighten you more than everything, and yet it will show you that nothing you see here is worth fearing as much as that dreadful order from the world. The potential it will unlock within you..." He pointed one of his nails at your head. "Will teach you that there is nothing to fear." "That's one of the lessons you tried to teach me with those false memories too." "Yes."

You looked at his nail, but you couldn't feel the same fear you had before because you knew no matter how frightening he would seem, the Mind Flayer needed you alive, and so he wouldn't truly harm you, only threaten you perhaps, but never truly putting your life at risk.

"There is something you still fear. I know there is; I can see it, plus there's nobody who doesn't fear at least one thing."

Henry, or rather Vecna, cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. You struck a cord, yet it was most likely one that he had repressed so laboriously until now that pointing at it was a threat in itself.

"I do not fear anything. I have unlimited potential and I-" "Before the cave, you feared it. After you came out, you started to fear something else."

Henry let go of you, allowing you to stand on your own. Even if you tried to run, where would you go? You didn't know anything about what was happening to you; you had no idea how to escape, even if given the chance, so he saw no risk in letting you free for a moment.

"I don't know what you saw, but whatever it is that you did, it shook something in you, and you can't deny it."

Vecna groaned, eyeing you down, his presence enough to make anyone shudder. But not you. After all, you had nothing to lose standing up to him, even in this form that he had.

"I have no fears. Your words are... meek and irrelevant as expected of an unfit subject to meet-" "It cannot grant you something which is beyond anyone's reach, nor perfection, nor total lack of fear. All have an Achilles' heel, no matter how enhanced your strength might be; as long as your own mind still has a word to say, you will realise you cannot reach the perfection you seek and that you are afraid. Perhaps more afraid than me."

You had angered him.

You pointed out to him something which had begun to plague him since the revelations in the cave struck his already unstable side. He lifted you off the ground with so much ease that you barely had time to react, and had you thrown a little distance into the ground. The surprise stunned you more than the fling, which only rekindled the soreness of your wounds from the cave.

"You do not understand. Deplorable girl. You will not understand until you will yourself face it." "You are not fighting it... You could escape it if you fought it! You are letting it win, and the more you do, the less likely it is that you will ever escape it! Just try to refuse it for once!" "I have no reason to deny this power and the duty it gave me. Unlike you, ungrateful girl, I see the greater purpose of my existence."

The closer you were to the Mind Flayer, the more you knew the harder it would be for Henry to oppose it, so you let go of the matter; however, too late. He had made up his mind to give you one last show of his abilities.

In his Vecna form, he stepped over to you until he was standing right between your legs as you tried to push yourself up. His tendrils didn't allow for that, however, as he stuck you down on the ground, making you squirm pointlessly as you witnessed an even rawer form of his power. Back in the cave, he only made use of one hand; now he had no reason to hold back.

"You seem to have forgotten you still bear the markings of having submitted to me once." Vecna cocked his head to the other side, closing his eyes for a moment, lips pursed as he yanked you up with his powers, then kept you upright with them alone. "I must remind you, I am your Master before it will have you. It is I that you must obey first and foremost before we meet it."

With you in the air, seemingly putting in no effort in keeping you so, he gazed upon himself. How should he claim you now, with this body, when the only sort of pleasure this body could derive would be from seeking you to fall, capitulating to him.

"Let us begin..."

Vecna circled you once while keeping you up, preventing you from even attempting to trash or kick.

"Do you understand how little of my power I must use... to have you like this?"

Once behind you, he stopped, inching closer so that his face was by your ear. His hand snaked up your leg, nails grazing over your clothes, enough to risk slashing them open. But he didn't. That would be an improper way to present you to the Mind Flayer. Instead, his hand climbed up your body, until it reached your face. He felt your opposition against him, the attempt to draw your head back. Yet that didn't stop him, hand coming to press against your face, tendrilous palm over your mouth, nails in your hair forcing your head back into him.

You were breathing heavier, heart racing. Even if you knew Vecna couldn't truly hurt you, the apprehension that came with the uncertainty of his next move was making you heave.

"Hm. Perhaps you won't let go of fear because it excited you. Hm? Oh, yes... indeed. It does excite you to be afraid."

His other hand came around you from behind, feeling across your thigh, lightly, before coming to cup your cunt through your trousers, yanking you back into him so you could feel his chest in your back. Initially repulsed, you tried to arch away, but he was still in control, still not permitting you to do anything but take what he had to give you.

The heel of his palm pressed into your mound, and he began to set a pace, slow but with just enough firmness to gain a little muffled grunt from you against his other hand. Your eyes remained shut, feeling the graze of his nails in your hair, his voice hypnotic by your ear.

"You thrive in fear... Meek insect."

The motion was steady, angled into your clit, which felt the friction even through the layers of clothing. Vecna's ring and middle finger joined his palm, grinding against your slit area, pressing around where he estimated your hole would be, urging you to shudder with the growing urgency of the heel of his palm.

Your grunts, which came more often now, were muffled into his hand. His mind was devoted to the task of making you submit once more, yet he felt the presence of the Mind Flayer begin to seep through, closer, which made him painfully aware he'd have to be done with this soon and bring you over. The patience of the being was immeasurable, and yet it urged him to hurry.

"This is the last time you will obey me... before you will obey it."

Your muffled reply didn't reach him, his hand continuing to work on you, determined to have you cum once, however unsatisfactory, but to feel that wave of a climax brush through you and make you compliant. Surely, it wasn't going to feel as good to you as the other times he claimed you, but that hardly mattered, as this was meant to be your last experience of bliss before you'd meet your fate.

"Let your body yield to me."

It didn't take long, however, for his hand to make you climax. A weak one, but enough to make you gasp and writhe helplessly as his palm pressed your head back into his shoulder. The few waves of the climax gradually subsided; Vecna held you upright still until he felt you no longer put up any resistance, and only then did he take his hands off you and let you drop from his powers, catching you right before you could hit the ground.

In this state, you wouldn't make him second-guess himself.

He held you in his arms and began to carry you again, the marvellous sight of the Mind Flayer growing in the distance, more and more, with each step of his.

For the first few minutes, you had been recovering, but once you did, you looked up at him, then ended up hiding your face into his tendrilous chest. Was there anything to be done now but accept it? No. So you gave in and let him carry you in his arms to the Mind Flayer. He would glance down at you, but then keep walking, noticing your closed eyes. He knew you were afraid, but he couldn't do anything more than he had already done; it was a necessary step you had to endure, one where he couldn't do anything more to help you.

Amusing, really.

That he'd want to help you. That was so unlike himself to worry about you when you were, to him, supposed to be merely another task the Mind Flayer gave you. Was he genuinely concerned for you? Was he empathetic to your fear? No. No. And yet he was. He remembered his own fear vividly when he received the particle which changed him, and couldn't help but feel pity for you and... wish, for once, that he could truly let you go.

But that was strange, so strange. Vecna squeezed his eyes shut, tensing at the thought.

No, that's not something he could permit himself. If he cared for you, you'd become his weakness. And weakness was a cause of fear. His memories- had they given him just enough of his humanity back that he'd realised he cared for you? And if that was the case, was he afraid of the Mind Flayer's goal for you? The thought that it would consume you, that snippet of an image which hadn't crossed his mind before, made him stop. Overcome with the dread he once felt in the cave.

But too late.

Like a puppet to the puppeteer, he had already reached the Mind Flayer.

Vecna had to put you down, for you to stand on your own feet before it. Of course, nothing could have prepared you for the awe and horror of truly witnessing it, past the figments of memories that you had caught from Henry's mind. The creature's sounds were in no way something you would understand, but he seemed to do so. Neither of the two was talking in a language you could understand, and your mind was not yet part of the hive, and all you did was observe the strange demeanour of the two.

"It is generous toward you."

Vecna's low, coarse tone broke the silence, for once giving you the chance to understand. Before you knew what was happening, he secured you, depriving you of the ability to run. He was frightened at first, but this was the better of the outcomes. After all, now that it was revealed to him, it put him at ease. The Mind Flayer desired to impart to you a particle, akin to that which changed Henry, to make you like him.

"It will be over soon." "But I don't want this!" "You will understand Its choice for you, but you must allow for it." As he held you, he knew the Mind Flayer would not be quite as willing to wait for your consent on this. "You wanted to save me, didn't you? Accepting it. It is the only kind of saving you could offer me."

Regardless of your answer, you would still be given the 'gift', but Henry, underneath that tendrilous form he had, wished that you'd at least accept it without fear. And once you did, you too would understand the goal of the Mind Flayer.

You turned your head to him, searching for his gaze, and when you met it, you saw a flicker of humanity in it. If you could keep that kindled, and prevent it from succumbing fully ot his creature, if this was the saving he wanted, you would accept it.

With no memories of the world outside, with the only figment of humanity left being that momentary glint in his eyes, you let it happen. Henry flinched as he watched it take place, reliving once again what he himself had gone through.

The pain, the fright. It was over soon; Henry hadn't lied about that, and now, with you under the same influence as himself, still adjusting to it, you had the chance to see it all that he did. For the kind of connection the Mind Flayer forged between you two was stronger than that any lab subject would have had. You two were agents of it, and all one knew, the other too had access to now.

But above all the intertwined memories, you saw what the goal had been from the start.

When Henry had become the first infected, the Mind Flayer thought him enough. And Henry too believed he would be sufficient in reestablishing a new order, the correct one, of the world. But he understood that a world, even renewed with new, natural rules, would lack inhabitants- ones not akin to the pests that humans were- but with the Mind Flayer's gift, there could be a new kind of species, one that bore in its veins the perfected version. And yet, there was no way to replicate this perfection infinitely with each human, for it was only a select few that would be sufficiently deserving of this.

Instead, the goal became to find Henry someone who, once having received this gift, would match him, another perfected subject, and together, the two of you would become responsible for the task which had been Henry's alone before.

That of rebuilding the world, one where flawed humans would not be destroying the natural order with their mundane, self-imposed destructiveness.

But,

While the Mind Flayer felt its plan completed, something remained. That spark of humanity which you reawakened in Henry, and one you maintained yourself, as your memories were now linked. As you faced each other before the Mind Flayer, you saw in each other's eyes a question.

But would that spark be enough to save you as Henry had whispered, or would it, at last, die down and make of you mere flayed servants?

Perhaps the Mind Flayer itself too was aware of this question, but why should a powerful being as itself ever fear that meek spark? What were humans to it? It wouldn't understand.

But with yours and Henry's eyes locked on each other, you bore hope that if you had made it this far, perhaps there was a chance at redemption after all.

This is the end! Hope y'all enjoyed it! [Apologies if it was terrible; I never had a plot in mind for this to begin with, it just appeared on the go, but hopefully it didn't turn out too bad!]

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"Do not do this, sweetheart."

Henry's tone had for once managed to send a cold shiver down your spine. You heard his voice from all around you, the woods doing nothing to shield you from him. Your breathing had become erratic from both fear and the running, and you stopped for a moment, back pressed against a tree to catch your breath and calm yourself enough to keep running. Your mind was hazy, and the adrenaline rush was so intense that you heard a ringing acutely in your ear. The coarse bark was the least of your problems, your back barely registering the uncomfortable raised bumps of the wood that clung to your shirt.

You inhaled, once... He couldn't be close. You ran before he even returned home. It wasn't possible that he caught up to you so fast. The voice, his calls. Those had to be the work of your frightened imagination.

"Sweetheart. Come back this instant... I don't like this silly game you're playing."

His voice came again, and you cut your break short and ran off again, a few branches scraping at your sleeves, leaving sore spots that you'd undoubtedly begin to feel when your adrenaline levels would falter. His voice, how could it come from all around?

"Sweetheart."

This time it was so close that it made you come to a full stop. Your eyes adjusted to your surroundings, to the edge of the woods and the cave opening right before you. A dark, gloomy void which, as much as it seemed your only escape, also made you eerily frightened. A sort of terror indescribable, less your own but a general sort of terror that made the place seem inaccessible.

Behind you, for the first time, you heard steps, rapid ones that crushed beneath the leaves and twigs that you tore in your attempt to escape. The sound alerted you; you took another step toward the cave, reluctant and held back by that inexplicable dread and yet pushed forth by your fright of the man following.

"Stand right there, sweetheart." This time the voice was clear and came from right behind you. You knew it was Henry, and you didn't have to turn to him to know this Henry was not the sweet and gentle man you believed him to be. You took another step, and then another, until your body was not quite inside the cave yet but nestled under the shadow it cast.

When you turned, Henry was there.

A few steps away from you. That small interlocking of gazes stopped you both, but it was a swift moment of reprieve before you pushed past the horror and stepped within the cave.

Henry had hoped you would be smarter than this. He had hoped until the last second that you would come back and accept the gift the Mind Flayer had to offer you. But no. You were weak, unsuitable for this task. It hurt him. It hurt him that for a moment, he had sincerely hoped that once he'd be the agent of reestablishing a new order, that he'd do so with another. One who could help him rebuild everything. Someone like himself.

But he had lied to himself, and he was guilty of falling victim to his own lie. Everything you knew had been a carefully curated chain of events, of snippets from his own past adorned with moments of intimacy meant to make you understand his goal. He had foolishly thought that upon revealing the truth, you would still choose to follow him, that you'd understand with each dream and each day spent in his home, his desire for you had become sincere.

But no.

He deceived himself with illusions that you'd not run. He had hoped that, as in that dream, you would wake up and choose him. But it was a grand sacrifice. One you wouldn't make now.

You watched him front the cave's entrance, wondering what his mind must be on, other than the instinct to catch you while he stared back at you, pondering his next move. Releasing you was not something he could do. The Mind Flayer, despite all, required to see you, and one way or another, he'd have to drag you to marvel at its might.

"Sweetheart." "I don't want to hear it, Henry!"

His lip twitched, the anger within him simmering as he felt it in his veins. But he tried to give you one more chance to turn back to him. One last chance to do this willingly.

"Nothing has changed." His voice harboured something of its past kindness, but knowing everything now, you couldn't miss the sly, manipulative hint in it. How many times this soft, innocent tone had lied to you? How many times did you believe it all foolishly? "All you have to do is come back. You are scared... I would be scared in your place. It's... it's to be expected. Everything must be so new... and frightening..."

With each word, he took a step closer and closer, until he was at the edge of where his own mind allowed him to be, as close to the cave as he could reach.

"But you don't have to be, sweetheart." "I don't want to hear it, go away. Get away right now. I will run. I... Stop right there."

He did. Not because you told him to, but because that's as far as he could come.

"Sweetheart. Listen to me." "I don't want to hear a thing. Go back to your fucking house and let me go. I don't want to be part of this, I don't want to be a part of anything."

His calm and collected behaviour was splintering again under the frustration he felt at the situation.

"Sweetheart." Henry raised his voice enough to make you silence yourself and shudder. "Where will you go, hm? Back to that disgustingly unclean world? Back to who? Don't you understand? The kindness it gave you? And you're pushing it all away on a childish, immature whim. You're running... running from your responsibility. Come back this instant, and we can make it all right." "Shut up. Shut up." "No. No sweetheart. I won't. You know it to be true... It decided that you deserve to witness its might. So many imperfect humans and it picked you. Chose you. It must have a mission... a mission in which you will join me, and we can save this wor-"

You had begun to back away, and Henry grunted, shoes pressing into the sandy terrain outside the entrance. He couldn't let you escape, the fear of the cave mingling in his mind with the ache to catch you, both as necessary as the Mind Flayer requested them and yet as impossible as avoiding the cave and catching you were mutually exclusive.

You didn't stop. You took a few steps away, and as you noticed Henry didn't follow, you made a run for it. Henry's mind, pressed to make a choice, gave in, and he pushed past, following you inside the cave. The sandy, coarse footing with stones scattered made you trip constantly and have to watch your steps, advancing as quickly as you could as you heard him following.

You descended down a ladder, but at the last step you fell off, and before you had time to push yourself up, it was too late; Henry had climbed down faster than you could push yourself up and had pinned you to the ground.

"I told you not to run."

The lack of 'sweetheart' made it clear to you that he was truly upset this time.

With his hand on your throat, the other pushed down into the cave's grounds; he glared down at you, a feral, predatory look in those eyes that made him seem viciously glued to his goal. His voice was different too, lower, deeper, no longer bearing that sweet, gentle glint that had put you at ease before. No, there was none of that. All there was left was that feral tone. His hand holding down on your throat was second by second changing, no longer soft or tender but growing coarse, tendrilous, akin to the creature you had seen in the visions at the house.

Your heart pounded quicker, and Henry, sensing the change in your pulse as it beat into his hand, let his eyes slowly inch from your throat to your chest. His hair, messed from the run, slightly sweaty, was hovering above his eyes, and he grunted at the obstruction. He removed the hand from the cave ground to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his forearm, which led his hair to free his eyes from the obstruction.

"I told you not to run," he accentuated, his hand fully changed for that monstrous creature's. The nails so sharp they felt as if they'd puncture the fragile skin of your throat, and yet they didn't. They kept you still, ingraining in you the fear that any move, no matter how little, would inflict wounds on yourself.

There was no moving, no escaping, only glancing up at him as he had you trapped at his mercy.

"And yet... you ran."

His hand squeezed slightly on your throat, wrapping itself, fingers coiling around the skin in a grip that could easily dispose of you. One squeeze and you were done for, and aware of it, your heart was throbbing painfully in your chest, legs attempting to kick to free yourself.

His head leaned in, closer, until you could feel his hot breath against your lips.

"You will not run again. You cannot escape it."

You tried to grab at his tendrilous hand to push it away, but the gesture angered him, and he yanked your hand away with his free one, thumb pressed painfully into your wrist to make you let go before he pinned it down to the ground. His face betrayed no remorse, no emotion that was still human, but the utter mindless desire to hunt you.

With one hand pinned above your head, the other struggled aimlessly to do anything, for he wasn't budging. His head cocked to the side, his brow furrowed, and he squeezed harder at your neck, cutting your air supply short.

"I... could do awful, truly awful things to you..."

You wanted to talk, but there was no way you could because of the grip on your neck. One of the tendrilous fingers slithered up your chin to your lips, forcing itself inside your mouth. The nail grazed over your tongue, scraping it lightly, enough to make you feel a fading metallic taste. He forced his finger, bobbing it back and forth lightly, the nail doing no further harm as he had forced your mouth to suck on his finger.

When he took it away, he saw a red trickling on his finger and grunted as you tried to swallow the metallic taste away, unable to even do that as his hand remained as steady on your throat. His finger joined the others on your neck, leaving a mark of your own blood on your skin when it did. Light, but there.

"Don't you understand?"

He licked his lips, his gaze locked on yours, forcing you to see the primal urge in them. In fear and the soreness of your tongue, your eyes welled up with tears which you tried pointlessly to hold back as they dripped down your cheeks.

Henry frowned.

Not because he didn't like what he saw, quite the contrary. He was fascinated by how alluring those trickling tears were as they surged from your eyes as you kicked helplessly in his grip. The salty droplets made his cocked head lean in, and he licked a line up your cheek, gathering your tears on his tongue and gasping softly as he savoured the taste of your fear.

With his lips so close to your ear, his voice came frighteningly clear and coarse, "This is mercy... It wants you. You should be thankful... You have been given far too many chances."

Henry glanced down at you, from head to toe, then pushed himself up to his knees, then standing, easing the grip on your throat enough to give you a chance to breathe. And you did, greedily trying to get as much air in your lungs as you could while he turned to look at your pathetic attempts to ground yourself.

As if this was all...

He shoved your back against the ladder you had descended off of, lifting you slightly above the ground until your feet could no longer feel anything beneath them. One hand held you up, the other reaching to undo your trousers, tearing them off you. Then he came closer, his hand working down on the button of his own suit trousers, undoing them while keeping his gaze on you. He couldn't miss anything, not a single reaction from your face as he showed you the kind of strength he had, strength which you might be given would you at last submit to the will of the Mind Flayer.

"Stubborn girl."

He grunted, his tendrilous hand returning at last to normal as he wiggled his fingers, huffing slightly. Henry used his own body to keep you against the ladder, one hand holding you upright by your thigh, urging you to lock them both around him to keep yourself from falling. Angering him further wasn't something you wanted to do, so you complied, legs around him as he pressed you up, the other hand going down to his unbuttoned trousers, taking himself out of them and guiding the tip past your panties, prodding at your cunt.

Henry wasn't going to wait or soothe you into it this time.

He pushed himself inside you with a grunt, his mouth latching onto your neck at once and suckling a mark on it. You winced, trying to move your head away, but he pressed on, leaving a hickey on it, then moving to the other side, determined to mark you again. As he did, his hips jerked forward, fully burying himself inside you, then he began to establish a pace that was to his liking, punishing, slow but deep, making you curl your fingers into his back with each thrust.

Henry didn't talk, but he didn't have to. The grunting grew more desperate and feral with each thrust, and his marking hadn't stopped at two hickeys; he kept going, plastering on your neck bites and kisses and nips, leaving behind a trail of signs that he had claimed you. He used to be careful. To not let all too many marks on you. He was clean, pristine even, meticulous in this. But now he couldn't care about anything else but to mark you with the signs of your submission to him.

His thrusts remained rough, punishing, but less to teach you a lesson and more because that was the pace he craved. A pace where control was ultimately his in making you subdue. It wasn't even the pleasure that he sought, nor yours or his own, but the utter feeling of control he had over you as you meekly clung to him and begged.

Your begging reached his ears, but the request faded.

You had disobeyed him, and he wasn't going to forgive you and make you feel good, because at last, wasn't that the meaning of those kludged requests? Making you cum would have been a reward, and yet he ceased to see you come undone so he could fully establish his power over you. His primal desire to see your body tremble and shudder from him made him push back the idea of reward.

No, it wouldn't be a reward.

It would be the full sign of your defeat to him. So with you propped up into the ladder, his cock at its pace, only slightly swifter, his right hand reached down between your bodies, seeking to push you into an orgasm with his thumb stroking blindly over your clit. The adrenaline made him capable of keeping you up with one hand and his own body as the other kept working, almost instantly sensing the signs of your body's submission, your writhing and gasping, the attempts to shove him away.

That was it.

You wouldn't escape it.

Henry shoved you harder into the ladder, his eyes locked on your face despite your own eyes shutting from the overwhelming sensation, tears still trickling down your cheeks, far less than before but enough for Henry to feel his own cock throb at the sight as he leaned in and licked the salty droplets once again.

"Give in. Cum."

His thumb stroked your clit more fervently, disregarding your begging.

"No?" He growled, "Hm. You think you're smart?"

Henry didn't stop, not even when your body shuddered with so much strength at the impending climax that it took his entire will to keep you still. As you came around his cock, cunt clenching around him, he let go too with a guttural groan, forehead against yours, his gasps that followed right by your lips.

His entire body, tense with the instinct of the hunt, eased at once, and as he pulled out of you, he let you down on the cave's ground, leaning into the ladder to catch his own breath. He closed his eyes, feeling his chest heave, his ears ring, the effort slowly catching up to him as he tucked himself in weakly, buttoning his trousers and sitting down on the ground too.

He turned his head to you, and since you seemed in a far weaker state, he didn't mind when you reached out for your trousers. Henry allowed you to pull them back on; after all, he wouldn't take you to the Mind Flayer in your ruined panties. Yet in his temporary daze, you pulled them on and made a run from it again, no matter how weak you felt after that moment.

You went further into the cave, deeper, and Henry pushed himself up and tailed after until there was no further place to run. He had you cornered. It was a branch of the cave that struck a familiarity in Henry. And as you fell in shock against the stony floor, looking up at him in fright, the sight stunned him.

He had seen this before. Not with you.

But he had witnessed this.

His memories flooded back, and you saw it on him that he was reliving something which you had no access to. But whatever it was, it caused Henry to drop to his knees, to swallow hard and look around him in a painful, disoriented state, mumbling to himself with his lips quivering that he had to push everything away from his mind.

This seemed like the best chance for you to make a run for it. In his state, he'd have a hard time following, and you might even escape, and yet seeing him like this...

You couldn't.

"Henry." "No." "Henry..." "No. No. Don't talk to me. Leave me alone." Henry replied shakily.

It was bewildering what a different version of him you were witnessing now. How humane and scared compared to what you saw only minutes before in this same cave.

"Henry, whatever is going on, it has to do with that it you're talking about, doesn't it? Don't let it win." "Stop. Stop talking. No. No, you don't know a single thing. Stop talking, stop."

His distress was palpable, anguishing even to you. And you were not able to see what he saw. Only to feel that whatever was going on was causing him a great deal of fear and pain.

His weak, pathetic weeping made you crawl closer, despite your bloodied knees and hands from the falling and the scraping on the rocks. You tried to grab him, but he shoved himself away and tried to get some distance, but you clung to his wrist.

"Henry, don't let it win. You're stronger. Please, Henry." "No, no... stop. Please stop..."

He was nearly shaking, his face soaked in his own tears and the dust of the cave. He tried to wipe his face and pull himself away, but you insisted again. There was humanity in him. You felt it in his frightened weeping eyes. He wanted to come back... but it was hopeless. Whichever being had its grip on him couldn't be denied. And despite his quivering lip and his tears, he sterned himself and grabbed you. That moment of humanity vanishing as the figments of control over himself were lost to the Mind Flayer once again.

You could have run, but you sacrificed that chance, hoping your presence would help him. But it hadn't been enough. Not one and not two humans could save each other from It.

You knew kicking and thrashing was pointless now. That Henry suppressed again all that was vulnerable in him as he pulled you after him. You knew that now you had no choice but to meet It.

To meet the Mind Flayer.

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"This is the most unusual way to have to wake you up, sweetheart... but... back in those dreams... it did work, didn't it?"

Henry watched your sleeping form on his bed, in his home, the ticks of his clock announcing that you should have already woken up. But you were one sleepyhead, weren't you? Had you become used to sleeping through it? The idea made Henry's lips arch into a soft smile as he undid his waistcoat, leaving only his shirt on, hat and suit jacket already gone. He removed his glasses, then his hand reached down to feel across your thigh, sighing deeply. Even though all was the Mind Flayer's doing, this one activity in particular was one he undeniably enjoyed himself. It was the goal the Mind Flayer had set, but the means had been his to decide.

"I am starting to believe you enjoy it when I make you feel good in your sleep, sweetheart. What a sleepyhead you are..."

Henry took his time.

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, carefully rolling them up to his elbows and making sure they were secured before he crawled into position between your legs, both hands on your thighs, helping himself closer, until his crotch was nearly against yours. That would be quite an endeavour, but no. He would wake you up with his mouth, but first, he couldn't miss the opportunity, so he leaned down and pecked your lips once, smiling against them, glad he had already left his glasses aside.

"I hope you will forgive me again, sweetheart..."

He murmured as he left your lips, kissing down across your neck to your shoulders, one hand reaching up and snaking under the back of your head, holding it while he leaned in to nip at the sensitive skin.

"It is wonderful, sweetheart... How I can never seem to get tired of this..." Henry lingered over your shoulder, brushing his nose against the skin, then stopping to suckle a spot, releasing it with a pop before he could truly mark it. "No... it would be a shame to mark you now... Look how... perfect everything about you is. Oh, my little sleepyhead."

Henry would have kissed every inch of your body like this, but you had your chest covered in the pyjamas he had dressed you in before, when he first brought you here. Then his clock began to strike, and he knew he should wake you, having already pulled your trousers off, knowing this was the best method to ensure you'd wake up and be pleased, with the least amount of possible suspicions.

He moved down, bent forward as he scooted back, on his knees with his face down between your legs. Henry lifted up your shirt for a moment, kissed your stomach reverently, working his way to your right side and nuzzling it, then to your left and repeating the gesture before kissing down to your mound.

"I will be going easy, hm? I want to give you a nice wake-up, sleepyhead..."

Henry cooed over your mound, tongue pressing flat against your slit once, lapping up a long line and savouring the taste, hands holding down onto your sides. One lick was enough for you to squirm a little in your sleep and for him to let a pleased sound leave his lips, a sweet mix between a grunt and a chuckle.

"So sensitive... and eager, sweetheart. Just like I knew you would be..."

Henry kneaded your sides in his palms as he gave your clit a few kitten licks, enough to cause you to stir again.

"Shh, shh... I know, I know... I am rushing, aren't I? I am sorry, sweetheart. Here, I will go slower..."

He began to place pecks across your cunt, from your clit down to the lips, before taking each of them and giving them a soft suck for a few moments, then leaning to your thighs and nipping them. He was slow, his dexterity having improved, having done this before in your dreams and now in his home.

First the right lip, taking it between his own, tongue tracing at its inner side, working way down and up to your clit before swapping to the other. One hand had left your side, coming down to use his index and middle finger to part them for him once he was done worshipping each side so he could lap better at the slit.

"You taste incredible..." He chuckled, "I am quite glad you are such a sleepyhead... the longer I get to taste you, the better."

His grunt as he moved to work on your clit earned him a few needier jerks of your hips and a soft moan as you threatened to toss a little. Henry smirked, mouth latching onto the clit, tongue pleasuring it as his eyes fell closed so he could fully focus on the taste. Until his own mind seemed to fall blank, an empty slate guided by the urge to keep eating you out.

Your body reacted, the squirming more urgent, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.

He could've spoken, soothed you into relaxing- but he couldn't make himself leave your cunt when it tasted too good. Far too good. So he kept going past the squirming and arching and wincing until you came undone against his mouth.

He lapped it like an eager parched puppy, before he pushed himself to rest on his knees, watching your eyes slowly open as you were panting. Henry worried you would react negatively to this; he wasn't sure why, but the concern was still at the back of his mind. However, when you did see him, you began to chuckle right away and let your eyes fall closed again as you caught your breath.

"uhh..." You lazily brought your arm to your face, rubbing it in an attempt to wake yourself properly. "You've got a habit of doing this now... Can't say I mind it though..." "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."

You forced your eyes to open, only to notice... a new home. Not your own but a strange one, and before you could question it, Henry chimed in.

"I am sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't wait to tell you... I brought you to my home, where we can be safe from those monsters." "When did we..." "Shh shh, don't worry about it, sweetheart. I took you here while you were asleep."

You squinted, seemingly in disbelief.

"I came back for you, but you, sleepyhead, were already dozing off, and I couldn't bear to wake you up." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, which did wonders in easing your worries. "But how..." "I can do a lot of things, sweetheart. Remember? It was barely any effort, because I knew you would be safe here."

You pulled him down to cuddle him, and although he tensed at first, a bit surprised by your eagerness, he didn't pull back. After all, he wanted to make you trust him, be fond of him... and maybe more. So with you nestled against him, his hand went to your nape, soothing you with light strokes.

"We have a long day ahead, sweetheart. I have to show you your new home, but most importantly, breakfast..."

"You don't have to keep looking around, sweetheart. I insist. You must feel at home here. With me." "I know, I know. I'm not being shy or anything; I don't want to knock something over, that's all."

Henry stopped guiding you around the house, a soft smile plastered proudly on his face. He spun around on his feet until you could see his smile and sense the slight amusement behind it.

"What a wary little lady you are, but..." He leaned forward, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked on yours. "You really mustn't worry about such things..." He averted his gaze to the ground for a moment, a meek, shy smile appearing for a moment on his lips before he eyed you again, "No. No, sweetheart. You have to see this place as your new home, because it is."

His smile faded for a moment, one of his hands coming from behind his back to your face, thumb stroking your lips first, before coming to rest on your cheek. "You must be terribly exhausted. How did you sleep? Before I woke you..." The look in his eyes as he waited for an answer became more acutely focused on you, on examining each slight shift in your conduct that would allude to any suspicions toward him.

"Slept? I slept great, a bit too great if you ask me." "How so, sweetheart?"

Henry took your hand, guiding you to his living room at first.

"I... Well, I don't know. I feel like I've been in one heavy sleep, as if I slept for months or years."

Henry gave you a wary look, but only for a mere second before it turned into a soft chuckle, almost to playfully mock it.

"Oh, sweetheart. If that was the case, don't you think I would've been worried?" Then he leaned in to your ear, in a playful yet conspicuous tone, "There would've been nobody to enjoy all the treats I've got."

Henry leaned away, continuing to walk you around his home, a soft crinkle around his eyes from his smile.

"I couldn't have finished all by myself, and... it would have been tragic to throw it all away, don't you agree, sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes and used the chance to push yourself up and kiss his cheek, causing him to halt in surprise and glance at you. He should've expected this; after all, he had worked on establishing this kind of connection with you through those false memories and yet seeing it happen now, outside of the dreams he had been puppeteering, was an odd feeling. He couldn't quite place it. Henry didn't dislike it, but he was unaccustomed to it, cautious yet curious.

"Surprised?" "...do I look surprised?" "You do actually."

Henry snaked his hand to your lower back, brow raised in a gesture of light shock, the initial one having subsided. The one he displayed was a mere form of teasing, and you guessed it from the way he pursed his lips with this almost chiding ring to his voice.

"I tricked you." "You tricked me?"

With the most earnest, gentle expression, Henry nodded, "Yes, sweetheart. I tricked you... I gave you the right chance for that kiss, and you did it."

You laughed at that earnestness in his clear lie to save the situation and let your head rest against his shoulder. His other hand came to snake around you, both on the small of your back as he pulled you into his chest, until your head comfortably nestled underneath his chin as he let his head rest on yours.

"I am sure you did, Henry." "You'd not believe the truth even if it were told to you?"

Henry embraced you gently, eyes closing as his chest rose with each breath against your own. Perhaps there was a part of him that was curious what you would do if he told you the truth. Now that you had grown fond of him, how much harm would it do if he revealed it all? You had to go to your room, become accustomed to this place, until the Mind Flayer would insist on bringing you over. It was not yet the time; for now his task was to keep your suspicions from becoming a nuisance.

"The truth being what? That you are this planning mastermind and made me kiss you? Oh please, as if that was something you could do... You may have quite some powers, but my mind is my own."

Henry's lips curled into a smile.

'Yours indeed.' "Moreover, that was completely spontaneous, you know? Sometimes I want to kiss you." "Sometimes you do. Sometimes you want to do more too."

You got caught off guard a little and flashed him a look, clearing your throat and leaving his embrace with your cheeks a little flustered at the implications. Henry initially let you lean back, but he quickly stopped you before you could truly leave his arms, only giving you a second's illusion that you were free from his arms.

"Not yet." He chimed, his hand holding yours, thumb brushing tenderly over yours, soothingly. "I have to tell you one very... very important thing, sweetheart. It's... like... like a rule. But it is very important for me, hm?" "A rule?" "A rule, yes." Henry took your hand to his lips, leaning his head down so he could give it a light kiss, watching you from above his glasses. "You saw the forest outside? A dreadful, dreadful place, isn't it, sweetheart?" "I thought it's quite fun looking- to explore-" "No. No. That's a trap. That place is very, very dangerous, and you mustn't ever leave without me, hm? Could you be a good girl and promise me that, sweetheart? Could you promise you will never wander off all alone into that terrible place?"

You glanced over your shoulder at the window and saw very briefly the green shade cast by the trees in the distance behind the glass, for Henry made you turn your attention to him again, giving your hand a light squeeze.

"Please? What if you got lost, sweetheart? I couldn't protect you from those scary monsters if I don't know how to find you, hm?" "I suppose you are right... even though I don't think I would get lost, but if it makes you feel at ease..." "It would, sweetheart. And you know what they say about forests, no? They are like scary mazes."

You smirked, looking over his shoulder this time, at your room, the door slightly agape behind him.

"In books." "Books wouldn't lie, sweetheart." "Alright, alright. You have it. I won't go in the forest without you... But- we will go together, right? I want to see what's in there."

Henry squinted, lips thinning- betraying his displeasure.

"No, sweetheart." This was the first time a 'no' truly felt like a no from him. No more games, or teasing, but a heartfelt no. "We can't go there at all. Not yet." "Not yet?"

Henry let a soft grunt leave his throat as he led you inside the room, "Don't worry your precious little head with it, sweetheart."

"But what if I want to worry my precious little head with it? You are being awfully secretive. How do I know you aren't one of those scary monsters pretending to be my dear lovely Henry, hm?"

Henry's jaw tightened for a moment, his head snapping up to yours, tense... But he did no further move. Instead, he exhaled tiredly and sat on the edge of your bed.

"So you are a scary monster-" "Sweetheart."

You stilled.

"Don't joke about that, sweetheart. I can't tell you everything yet because there are things that your little mind would be overwhelmed by... You would be frightened. Run... and then I wouldn't be able to protect you." "I promised you just now that I wouldn't go out in the forest." "No, sweetheart. It's more than that." "Well, you're not making it any easier for yourself."

Henry turned his head away.

"You say my mind would be overwhelmed by it, but you have been testing my mind before, have you not? You know, in the laboratory. You didn't complain before that it would be weak." "This is not the same, sweetheart." "And why isn't it?" You asked, nosily.

Henry shot up from the edge of the bed, frowning, tense. Breathing heavier.

"This is clearly something you have to tell me, Henry. You have done bad things to me, alright? You didn't see me running away then. Why would I run away now?"

Henry remained quiet.

"You keep insisting that I have to trust you, and yet you clearly don't trust me if you're not willing to at least explain this." "I am keeping things from you for your own good." "If you don't tell me, I am leaving."

Henry tensed more, the pressure visible in the way his neck muscles tightened.

"You'd be going right back to those scary monsters." This time, as he spoke, his voice was less chimy, bearing a neutral, sterile tonality. "How do I know that, hm? Oh, I don't. I have to trust you. No. Not a chance, you're telling me, or I am leaving right now."

Angered, his temper lost, he undid his cuff, folding up his sleeve and outstretched his arm toward you, yanking you closer with his powers, grunting as his head cocked to the side. You weren't phased, as it wasn't the first time he had ever used his strengths on you, so you eyed him down, waiting.

"You will not run." "I won't." "Do you promise, sweetheart?"

You nodded, "I do."

That was the first time you had seen it, before your very eyes, his hand becoming something unnatural. A crimson, tendrilous mass that grew and crawled over his arm, embedding in it until it transformed it fully into the hand of a creature which you did not recognise. Never before in your dreams had he revealed this part to you, and perhaps that was his fault, for he had to expect the shock of seeing it.

Henry spotted the hesitation, the fright and kept his hand above your head, not touching you, merely letting you see it.

"You still do?"

You gulped, swallowing your words for a moment, the sight of his hand too distracting to speak at first. The nails, sharp like claws that hovered inches over your face, continued into skinny bony lines that further sprouted into a tendrilous mass. "I... I do."

"You are not so sure, sweetheart. Don't lie to me." "I am not."

"Stubborn," Henry growled lowly, his fingers stretched slightly as he closed his eyes, focusing on your mind. It wasn't defended, and it easily allowed him access, permitting him to reveal to you figments of the truth. Not all, for even he couldn't recall all of his own existence, the reason for his own one fear, but he let you see. He let you see the truth through his eyes, let you feel the pain of his journey, the form which he was forced to take.

And perhaps worse of all...

For a mere second, your mind felt and saw the Mind Flayer.

That was when you pulled your head back, escaping the short-lived trance, panting, searching for his eyes. But he remained unchanged, unfazed, lowering you down as his hand came to normal, as he lowered his sleeve again, cuffing it.

"What was that..."

"You know the answer, sweetheart." In his voice, you felt a vague distance, unlike before. "You don't have to be afraid. What you saw... It frightened you, did it not? But it can take it away..."

He tried to place his hand on your cheek and cradle it, to keep you calm. To keep you collected, despite the terror in your eyes and the shivering. The heavy breathing... he had to expect as much from a first vision of the Mind Flayer. "This power, it was its gift. Do you remember? When I told you the order of this word was wrong, deeply unnatural, disruptive? It is through what you have seen that I can undo it all, sweetheart."

"No."

Henry cocked his head.

"No, it's too much." "I warned you, sweetheart." "I need... I need time. Alone. Please."

Henry disliked that and continued to hold your cheek and caress it until you stepped away from him.

"I need time to think, that's all. Please. You said it yourself, that it would overwhelm my little brain, no? Well, it did. Please. In the morning we can... you can tell me more about it, and it will be for the better. But now I need to sleep."

Henry could feel your anxiety and the uncertainty which came with it. He knew the risk of insisting any further and crossing over your desires, so he let his hand drop, nodding.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" "Yes." You replied swiftly. "And tomorrow we'll continue."

Henry was disappointed, but complied, head angled down, nodding as he put his hands behind his back and turned to the door.

"If you need anything, sweetheart, you know where my room is, hm?" "Yes, I remember. And if I can't find it, I will shout out for you." You tried to smile- to joke as to not worry him- and he seemed to fall for it as he nodded, wishing you a good night as he stepped away, his steps quieter and quieter.

Only that Henry was right to be worried.

Anything to the Mind Flayer you could have overcome. Even his new nightmarish form, you would understand as being the effect of all his toils, but that dread and terror of feeling the presence of the Mind Flayer in a vision alone had been enough to scare you into wanting to run away. There was, among the series of memories and visions, one of a cave, brushed over but enough to make you believe foolishly it was there that you'd find an escape.

And over the night... You snuck out of your room and peered inside his, but he was not there. If he had been a pawn to this creature, then what assured you that its goal wasn't to do harm to you too? You didn't know what to do, what it wanted... and in the lack of someone to save you this time, you ran.

You ran into the forest, leaving behind the Creel house, and trying to find an escape.

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