Does anyone have the guts to shut me up?

“I can’t believe this,” Snake Eyes says under her breath. “Ugh. I cannot stand superheroes. At this rate.. well, I’m not above using my powers on you again, you know.”

Being taken apart is that much worse without Surgeon’s healing. The pain when the knife dragged down Daybreak’s abdomen, when a hand gripped some tender part of her insides. It felt like coming undone, like the destruction of her sanity. She can’t believe she thought it was bad before. Her brain buzzes from the loss of blood and she can’t feel her feet or fingers. That numbness is a small blessing, but it’s not where she wants it. She’d bleed dry if that meant the pain would stop.

But she wouldn’t give up Sabitra. At least, she hopes she wouldn’t. She’s always been so much weaker than Audrey, hasn’t she.

“Just try it, you—” A wad of cloth shoves into the back of her throat and she chokes on it. Before she has time to get her thoughts together enough to spit it out, a rough blanket is pushed against her face and secured around the back of her neck.

Snake Eyes’ voice is much closer now, almost tickling the edge of her ear. “If you don’t have anything useful to say,” she murmurs, and a hand brushes over Daybreak’s blindfold, then cards over her hair, before gripping and pulling it to yank her head closer. “Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut.”

She flings Daybreak’s head back down against the table. It barely hurts. Everything barely hurts, drowned out by the agony swimming through her midsection. She can physically feel her intestines moving around on their own, squirming like worms against the horrifically frigid air. Her stomach roils in protest against the sensation, and hot blood rolls down her sides, pooling under her, sticky and thick. The smell is indescribable, and definitely isn’t helping her nausea.

At least she’s managed to upset Snake Eyes. It would be more fun if she could feel or think about anything other than the pain. The knife’s edge meets something in her, lower down. All her organs are exposed and shivering — there’s no way to pinpoint which one Snake Eyes is touching, and at this point, Daybreak can’t manage to care. The knife digs in, and there’s no way to avoid the muffled scream that tears from her, drawn out and shuddering, reverberating through her whole body as it seizes up against her restraints.

“Oh, what’s that? You don’t want an impromptu appendectomy? Just nod once if you’re ready to tell me Starstorm’s real name.”

She nods. And suddenly she’s watching herself from outside her body, unable to stop what she knows is about to happen. Snake Eyes removes the blanket and the gag, and then there’s a silence. Anticipation, while Daybreak struggles to get enough air in to force the words out.

She opens her mouth to say it. Sabitra Moon, a bakery owner, married, any information Snake Eyes wants, just to make the pain stop — but she can’t. It’s not her being noble. She doesn’t deserve that assumption. She’ll never be Ultraviolet. But she can’t say it. She couldn’t handle betraying Sabitra like that. She couldn’t handle being hated by her, ruining the only good thing that’s ever happened in her life. It’s pathetic, selfish, but she couldn’t handle it. She grits her teeth.