#no more metal tail and i made his legs less awkward and his tattoos less complicated

[plutoswarrior]

nothing fixes art block quite like maul fursona.

[221bshrlocked]

Sleeping Beauty (5)

Sleeping Beauty Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky x Shape Shifter Reader

Words: 1892

Warning: Awkwardness. A little angst. An angry cat.

A/N: I’m bored and I’m waiting to get a tattoo and I’m getting emotional cause it’s for my dad so I needed to write something cute. Refer to this video for the scene in the pool.

You woke up a little confused, looking around and recalling the past few hours. When you didn’t find Bucky, you got a little hurt because for the second time in the span of 24 hours, he wasn’t sleeping next to you. And then you shivered from the breeze coming through the window and looked down, the reality of the situation washing over you and causing you to freak out because you were as naked as the day you were born. In Bucky’s bed. He probably freaked out and thought you needed to get your shit together. Realizing you needed to apologize to him at some point, you brushed your hair and grabbed the nearest shirt and put it on, standing up and looking for anything to wear because his shirt might not be long enough.

You spotted his clean laundry basket and were about to look for a pair of his boxers when Bucky walked in with snacks. When he didn’t find you on the bed, he turned to the desk and saw you standing there in nothing but his shirt. The juice bottle broke soon after and you squealed from how loud it was.

“Y-you’re wearing my shirt.” Bucky struggled to keep himself in check, trying his hardest to not fix his pants that were, once again, super tight because of you. He followed your movements like a hawk, eyes glued to your hands when you tried to pull on the shirt to make it longer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way he clenched his jaw, eyes turning a little darker than normal as he watched your legs shivering.

“I had...nothing else to wear. So- sorry.” You whispered, waiting for him to do something so you could follow his lead. Bucky tore his eyes away from your legs before slowly trailing them upwards and he swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw your nipples hard against his shirt. For the first time, you felt naked in front of him, not just physically but emotionally, and you wanted to leave but couldn’t budge from your spot.

Bucky was mesmerized, his mind telling me to walk over and hug you as tightly as he could because he could feel how embarrassed you were and he didn’t like it. You should never feel that way around him. But the sound of glass shattering further under his feet brought him out of his haze. You wait for him to do anything and your heart broke when he walked towards his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of shorts, throwing them your way and telling you to get dressed.

You went from hurt to flustered to flat out angry. Bucky didn’t hear any shifting behind him and assumed you quietly put his shorts on. When he turned around, he had to take a step back from you. He couldn’t understand what changed all of a sudden but all he knew was that he needed to follow your lead, not because he was scared of you but because he knew you only changed into this specific animal when something wasn’t being communicated between the two of you. When one of you couldn’t say what was on your mind. He tried to walk to you but you growled, looking away before leaving his room.

Bucky stood there for a while, not knowing what he was supposed to do. He wanted to give you some space but he didn’t want to sleep knowing you were angry with him. Cleaning up the mess he made, he went to your room and knocked, opening the door slowly to see if you were inside and when he didn’t find you, he felt more anxious.

“Friday, locate Y/N.” He didn’t wait for the AI, descending the stairs to see if you were in any of your usual spots. “Ms. Y/N is currently using the swimming facility.” He shook his head and went downstairs, sliding the doors open and watching you swim around in the pool.

You heard footsteps approaching and turned around, ready to attack whoever was bothering you. When you saw it was Bucky, you turned your back and ignored him. You felt the water shifting higher and knew he got in the pool with you. What the hell was he doing, getting in the water when it was cold?

You snapped your head when you felt him pull on your tail, trying to swim away from him because you were still a little hurt but he didn’t let you. The two of you played this cat and mouse game until he noticed you were starting to get a little tired.

“Doll, did I do something wrong?” You were resting your head on his shoulder, pushing it up and baring your teeth when you heard what he asked. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you.” You purred when he scratched your throat, taking his hand in your mouth and sucking on the juice that you could taste was still on his hand. He laughed and told you he was ticklish at which point you bit down a little harder to get him to pay attention to you.

“Tell me what I did wrong. Please, I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me.” You swam away and walked out of the pool, releasing a guttural noise and signaling him to wait before he got out. He did as you said.

He turned around a while later when he heard some shuffling behind him, his facial expression falling when he saw you were wearing his shirt, again. He walked out and grabbed a towel to dry himself before putting on his sweatpants again. Sensing that you were a little uncomfortable from the state of undress the two of you were in, he wrapped the towel around his chest and sat a little far away from you.

“Did I do something wrong?” You finally asked him and flinched when you heard his metal arm shifting.

“What makes you say that?” You could tell he was irritated and you felt bad.

“This is the second time I wake up and you aren’t in bed.” You bluntly stated and continued playing with his shirt. He didn’t say anything, finally understanding why you’ve been acting strangely for the last day.

“I- I can’t say why-” You didn’t let him finish, your voice coming out a little louder than you intended. “Why not? I tell you everything. I thought we’re closer friends than that.” He flinched when you said ‘friends,’ rubbing his face before staring at you.

“You didn’t let me finish. I can’t say why without...without, god damn it this is harder than I thought. Without scaring you away.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the absolutely adorable and confused expression on your face. Bucky felt bad and stopped as soon as he saw you were starting to get angry again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh doll. It’s just that you look really cute when you’re angry.” That took you by surprise and you turned away from him.

“Don’t hide from me. Never hide from me Y/N.” You could hear him walking towards you, crossing your arms when he stood right in front of you and asked you to look at him. He reached up and touched your cheek very gently. “You look pretty in my shirt,” Bucky whispered, smiling when he saw goosebumps erupt on your skin and you couldn’t maintain eye contact anymore, looking down at your feet before playing with the edge of his shirt.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” He asked, incapable of holding back and pulling on the edge of his shirt. You flushed when you felt his metal fingers at the top of your thighs, hoping you weren’t misunderstanding the situation at all.

“I won’t.” He barely heard your reply, holding your chin and raising your head until you looked at him.

“I didn’t know what I’d do if...you looked so fucking gorgeous sleeping in my bed yesterday and then I woke up and you weren’t wearing anything today and I was afraid I’d do something. And I wanted to apologize for barging into your room yesterday but you said nothing of it so I didn’t know if I should bring it up and...I don’t want to ruin our friendship doll.” You said nothing, mostly because you didn’t know how to respond but you were also panicking internally because he did feel the same way.

“You’re so fucking important to me and I don’t wanna scare you by...” He groaned, wiping his face before leaning down and staring straight at you.

“I don’t wanna scare you by how much I want you darlin and tell me if I’m outta line but I can’t stop thinking about you baby. I woke up and you were right up against me and goddamn I almost lost it from how fuckin’ warm you were and I could feel every inch of you against me and I was scared. I was scared yesterday and I was scared today. And when we were on the mission yesterday, it broke me to think that you’d be willing to jump in front of me. I can’t risk it when it comes to you. And I know you can take care of yourself but I don’t want you to think you can just get shot for me. I’d do anything to keep you safe Y/N.” You could tell this wasn’t easy for him, his breathing picking up and his hand getting a little damp from where it was holding you.

When you said nothing, Bucky started to worry that he’d said too much and that you didn’t feel the same way. He slowly started to back up but you didn’t give him a chance to go too far, wrapping your arms around his neck and breathing in his scent. He wrapped his arms around your waist and sighed in relief. When his arms inched lower involuntarily, he remembered that you were naked and cleared his throat.

“Doll, you’re still naked.” He whispered and you pushed him away before apologizing. “Believe me when I tell you I don’t mind. But I got my limits too darling and I can’t promise to always control myself around you.” He scratched the back of his neck like he was shy and didn’t want to admit anything else.

“I’ll just wear Steve’s shirts. They’re longer anyway.” You said playfully, trying to make things less awkward between the two of you.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He blushed when he realized you were just joking.

“Don’t wanna see you in any other man’s shirt.” Bucky was first to walk away, not wanting to look at you by accident if you were to go ahead first. He took you back to your room and bid you a good night. When you stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, he almost fainted. Before he could say anything, you were shutting your door because it took everything in you to not die of embarrassment right then and there.

And before you went to sleep, you thanked god that the leopard helped amend the situation between the two of you. It always did.

[beyondconfessor]

Visceral

[10/20]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Psychological Torture, implied/referenced tortured, violence

Pairing: Sara Lance/Alex Danvers

Summary: Alex wasn’t welcome anymore

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

Alex awoke to her teeth chattering. Her jaw ached from it. Despite her attempts, she couldn’t stop it. Drawing her knees closer, she tried to fall back to sleep, but even that was fitful. Like she was on the edge of sleep, in the darkness of it, but not quite. A violent shudder hit her spine as her shirt rose up, exposing her skin to the concrete. 

Her whole body felt cold and wet. No, not wet, damp.

Why didn’t she take the extra moments to change into her suit? The armour would have kept her both dry and warm. She may have lost the tail of that van, but she’d lost it anyway in the end. 

Alex tried again to stop shaking. For a few moments she succeeded before it began again.

Who was she kidding, there was no way she would have allowed herself to lose those valuable minutes in tailing. If she had just remained focus on the mission, had considered her plans and learnt to map the city better, maybe she could have worked out a faster route. She already had National City mapped out like it was floor plan of her apartment. It was basic tactics, the very basic, know your terrain.

Rookie mistake. 

Alex stopped, drawing in a breath for herself. It wouldn’t be long before Winn called in for a missing alert on her. The car was fitted with a tracking device, he’d be able to track it to her last known location and from there, it was only a matter of time until the place was stormed by DEO Agents. And Supergirl.

Her eyes stung, and she couldn’t tell if it exhaustion or just frayed nerves. She wasn’t going to get to sleep again, any time soon. She should do something, try to, at least.

Sitting up, Alex felt at the chains that bound her, tugging at the links to feel for any weak spots. If there were, she wasn’t strong enough to break them. 

The cuffs felt rudimentary. If she had a hair pin, maybe she could work out unlocking them, though the position she was in would make it awkward.

Alex felt her limbs, moving them with care to investigate them for any damage. Her legs felt bruised but not broken. Ribs hurts, but they were probably fractured. There was definitely something, a bump, or scratched skin at least, on her forehead, but everything else seemed superficial. Everything was sore, but she was used to sore.

Using only her legs, she rose onto her feet to look around the room. 

Her body still violently shook from the cold, but just out of reach, she found a blanket on the far side of the room, to east side, if she considered the door to be her ‘north’. It was just out of reach. Alex tried to use her feet to reach for it, then, getting onto her side again, she tried to reach further, even as her arms began to be pulled by the chains, straining in the position as they were tugged the wrong way.

She exhaled, dropping back and then curled upon herself again. 

The room had no windows, and from what she could see, no light came from underneath the door that she could see. Sometimes she heard something. The distant sound of a slammed metal door, but it seemed otherwise quiet. 

The warehouse she was being kept seemed deserted, and maybe it was. There was no way for her to tell at this time. 

Over the last few hours –– days? –– Alex would find herself not quite sleeping, but suddenly awakening in the darkness, unsure how much time had passed. It couldn’t be long, the body only lasted so long without heat and water. She tried for the blanket again. Failed.

Her clothes, from her own body heat, eventually did dry, though the edges, the hemlines and the collar of her shirt, remained damp. Maybe they were just cold. Everything was cold. If there was a light, she imagined that she could see her breath exhale her body. 

During a moment where Alex’s mind was lulled, the door opened. She flinched away, and stared as light flooded in front of her eyes, burning them. The chain was removed from the centre of the room, and a strong arm wretched her to her feet. 

Alex’s stomach hurt, her mouth felt dry and a headache threatened to top her over, but she squinted through the light as she was manhandled down a hall, despite her hissing breaths as her ribs complained about the movement.  All the while her chains rattling like some Victorian prison ghost. 

She was placed into a bright room, on a plastic chair that looked generic. Her chains were secured in front of her, to a metal table, draping over her knees. 

Alex thought about sleeping. Above her, the light flickered, making a clicking noise loud enough to draw her thoughts to it. It grated on her nerves, the flickering light, bright and then dark, done-so purposefully, she suspected to make her agitated.

She drew her thoughts away from it, shutting her eyes and thinking about falling asleep. Thinking about her bed at home, and what it felt like lying upon it.

She thought about Sara, about Winn and J’onn and Kara. Kara would find her, Alex didn’t doubt it.

The door opened, on the opposite side of the room that she’d entered in with. It wasn’t Veronica who entered, but someone else. A man dressed in a long, thick coat. On his shoulder,  and his boots, Alex could see flakes of snow. Had she been moved further north into Canada?

“Good morning, Agent,” the man said, his accent accented from the Russian tongue. 

The man undid his jacket, lying it on the back of his chair as he sat down. There was knife on his belt, but no gun. From underneath his collar, she could see a very small black smudge, a tattoo perhaps?

Mafia, gang, ex-military, whoever he was, he was certainly dealing with Roulette.

“You know,” he said, “in this country, we reply when someone says ‘good morning’.”

Alex didn’t respond. She didn’t buy it for a second that she’d somehow, for some random reason, been taken to Europe. She also didn’t like the way the man studied her why he spoke, as if she were a specimen.

“I shall be quick, then,” the man said. “Ms Roulette would be very pleased if you were to hand over the secrets of Supergirl. Just a few, unimportant facts. Then we’d be up for possibly exchanging you for one our own. Good, decision, yes?”

Again, Alex remained quiet, unwilling to say anything. She knew how negotiation and interrogation tactics worked. The less you said, the harder it was to read you and she was determined to make it damn hard to read her.

The man watched her, his eyes running from her head, to her shoulders, down her arms to her hands. He was still looking at her like a specimen, and Alex wondered if he was a medical doctor. At the DEO, she would run the same observations while interrogating. But she didn’t pick Roulette to be someone who cared for prisoner welfare. Exploitation of weakness, looking to see where he could hurt her best, maybe?

The man rose from his chair, placing his jacket back on. “I shall speak to Ms Roulette, perhaps some time alone with allow you to consider this proposal,” he told her, adjusting his clothes, before walking back to the door. 

Alex was left in the room for what seemed to be another half an hour, or more. The fluorescent light that hung above continued to flicker enough that it grated on her nerves. The room also seemed more frigid that the one she’d been in before, and she continued to shake for warmth.

The door behind her opened, the chains were unsecured from the desk as she was picked up onto her feet. Alex hissed in pain, but made no other sound. She wanted nothing more than to drive her elbow into the underling’s face, but she wouldn’t. She wasn’t in a state to fight, and as she gave the person a once over, she found them lacking any weapons she could turn back on them.

Maybe she could use her own chains, but that would involve having to have the dexterity to avoid being caught, and the strength to pull back at the chains, neither of which she had at this time. Despite the pain, which she could work through, her body had limits and she’d felt in walking. She wanted to walk faster, wanted to be careful in her steps, not have to partially lean against the person’s hold on her, but her body was blocked. Her legs would not lift as high, they would just stop and then fall back to the ground as if something had restrained them, as if her sockets just needs a little more oil in them to move. 

Alex was placed in a dark room again, it seemed to be the same, it seemed to have the same blanket and bucket. But near where her chains were, there was a cup of water, with what looked to be soup from a can, gelatinous in form as it hadn’t been melted down into liquid. Beside that was a stale, but not undesirable looking bread roll.

She stared at it as her chains were re-attached to the welded, thick link in the centre of the room. One Alex had already pried her fingers across in what seemed to have been some darkness ago.

When the person left, Alex hesitated at consuming the food. It could be poisoned, or at the very least, drugged. The room was too dark to see if it’d been tampered with in any obvious way, and she couldn’t make any smells out over her own grimy body and the strong oily, metal smell that the room had.

Her stomach gnawed, even at the cold, gelatine-like soup, and her throat was sore enough, dry enough that her tongue felt thick and coarse in her mouth, that she wasn’t even sure if she cared if the drink was drugged. 

Except she knew better than most what kind of drugs were available for interrogation. Hallucinogens were the most obvious. It was easy to make someone suggestible, to transplant an idea, appear to be somewhere else, someone else if Veronica wasn’t able to get a shape-shifting alien. Or it could just be drugged with something make her violently ill, fear and pain were often good motivators for sadist interrogators, but sickness, feeling your body empty again and again with no relief for days, when muscles clenched…that was a good motivator too.

She doubted that Veronica would go to all this trouble only to dispose of her within the first few days, so poison at least was off the table. Nonetheless, poison in small doses could still make her sick and a part of her wondered if she was really in a state to be making educated guesses, no matter how well she’d been trained.

And yet, God she was thirsty. Her throat hurt, her tongue felt dry, even her teeth ached.

Given that, it could only be the first few days going by how thirsty she was. Probably two, though it could be more. Sitting on stakeout had given her plenty of time to drink plenty of water. They could have kept her hydrated with an IV when she was under. She wouldn’t even know, her whole body was cut up and beaten, even if she had any light to look for a single prick.

Not that that mattered, she still was playing twenty-questions with a cup of water, wondering if it was drugged. Not that she could really see a motive in drugging it. After-all, if Veronica really wanted to drug her, all she had to do was get one of her goons to stab her with a needle. It’d be quick, easy. Alex might fight them, but with her strength at the moment, she wasn’t much of a fighter. A nuance, at best, against Roulette’s goons. 

But that didn’t really say that there wasn’t drugs in it. It’d still be easier to dose her through food and water than to get a needle. 

God, maybe it was just another form of psychological torture, like this room, the promise the man had made. Was the food drugged, or not. Would it make her sick, or not. Did she care enough or not?

Alex took a chance and drank the water. It tasted normal enough. Then she decided to at least keep her strength up, so she ate the soup, despite how the thick, congealed texture felt  against her tongue and then sliding down her throat was enough that she gagged twice.

It took her back to her college days when she had up-ended a can of soup, only for the soup matter to remain in the shape of the can inside of the pot she’d been planning to cook her dinner in. After that, it’d been instant noodles for a while in her share-house, maybe a few vegetables and greens when her mother paid her a visit and stocked up her fridge. It was probably the same type of soup. Some chicken and corn made mostly of cooked bones and fat.

Veronica could have left her starve, or given her scraps to eat. Clearly she wanted her to be strong enough for something, even if the food was as cold as the room.

Alex stopped eating as the thought came to her. She was on the scraps of the bowl, pushing bread around the edges as she ate it and considered her future. Whatever they had planned, she needed to beat them to the punch first, or at the very least, be prepared for it.

But how did you prepare for the unknown? 

She pushed at the bowl and cup, felt over the tray as she considered her options. Training had always been simple: what can you do to fix the most immediate problem, and what do you need to do the rest? The answer became clear. Her most immediate problem was the cold, so first, she was going to reach out, and grab that fucking blanket, then, she was going to work out every inch of the room. 

She was in pain, she was angry, she was a DEO Agent. She could survive long enough to work out how to escape from Roulette’s claws. 

Inching back to welded loop in the middle of the room, she felt around and straightened every link in the chain so that when it pulled taught, she had a greater reach for the blanket. Then, using the empty tray between her feet, she used it as an additional foot and a half of length to reach out, towards the blanket and pull it closer.

Inch it closer.

Alex felt her arms strain, but she was not going to shake her way through the cold for another unending length in the darkness. 

Fuck that.

Finally, when the blanket was well up, under her calves, she stopped. Her body dropped, allowing her arms to relax, feeling her muscles complain even still as she the chain slackened against the ground. She wasn’t quite there yet, but that at least felt like she’d done something. 

When she could move again, she pulled the blanket up, using her feet again, until it was under her hips, and then, just in reach of fingers until she could grasp it and tug it up. 

Alex sighed, feeling the coarse material in her grip. It was hers. It was hers, she won. She wasn’t going to go cold again. 

Exhaling a shuddered breath, as every inch of herself seemed to be burning with one pain or another, she inched herself into a position where she could pull the blanket over her body, even as it felt like steel wool against every inch of skin it touched. She didn’t care. 

She also didn’t care that it was inexplicably stiff in certain parts of the blanket, or that it stunk of mildew, even though it felt dry enough. She could feel her jaw relax, her body’s shakes going to tremors as she curled up underneath it in an awkward foetal position, somehow managing to cover most, if not all of her self. 

Alex felt her head ease as her body finally started becoming warm enough. Even in the uncomfortable position, even though her shoulders ached, her neck ached everything wasn’t quite comfortable enough. Even then as a distant panic, like a bell ringing in the distant, seemed to say No, we need to—! 

Alex eased. 

As her body stopped shaking for the first time, she felt the darkness welcome her back as she fell asleep, despite every physical and emotional reason not to.

Despite…

Alex opened her eyes into a bedroom. 

It was the same sparsely decorated, if with a few weapons lying around, room she recalled the first time she had dreamscaped herself the Waverider. Her eyes drew around the room, to a scrunched up ball of paper on the floor, to the hand it must have come from, to Sara’s face. 

Alex felt her chest shudder. Her heart clenched at the very sight of her at the same time her body seemed to just ease, as if she was both skittish and excited, like some puppy, at the sight of Sara Lance sleeping in her bed. There was a gentleness to image, one that gave a pertinent feeling of wanting to lie down beside her and just forget about the cold floor and metal manacles on her wrists.

As if sensing her energy, Sara’s eyes opened and met Alex’s, not unlike they had that first time. Her face almost smiled and then froze, easing back to a neutral expression as she sat up.

“Hi,” Alex said, and the word seemed to stretch out with corners of her mouth. She might as well have waved her hand. 

For a moment, Sara didn’t say anything, she just stared, unblinking until every muscle in Alex’s body, one-by-one, began to tense, she could feel her spine lengthen with a drawn breath. Finally, when Alex felt like an attack was imminent, Sara spoke.

“You’re Mallus,” she said, anger thundered in the words.

“Sorry?”

“You’re Mallus,” Sara repeated again, “or Nora, or whoever. I know that this whole thing has been a ––” Sara’s voice cut off, shoulders sagging. “I know that you’re not real.”

Not real. The whispered words echoed in her ears. 

“People in glass houses,” Alex said. There was a lilt, a slip of humour that faded away. She remembered the dark-haired woman in the blue world, smiling at her, telling her that Mallus would be pleased. Fuck her. Whoever she was.

“This isn’t a glass house, Alex,” Sara spat. “This is your one and only warnings to get the hell out of my head and off my ship.”

“But you’re my dream. My…hallucination, or creation of my subconscious or wh- You can’t just kick me out of my own dreams!”

“Right. Sure. Well, whatever you mean by that doesn’t add up to everything else. You’re Mallus, I know you’re him because you were in my mind. Even if this is that astral projection crap, there’s no way that –– you’re not Alex Danvers.” Sara face twisted between heartbroken and furious. “So cut the crap before I beat the truth out of you.”

“I’m not Mallus!” Alex said. “I’m not…trying to trick you, or anything like that. You don’t…” she paused, her face scrunching up as she tried to think of what caused the shift in their relationship. But that was obvious. The blue-scape, the dream world where the Other Sara had been, where that dark-haired woman had been. Alex could feel the guilt, like hot stickiness in her gut.

“Sara, you don’t have to believe me. But I want you to know…” She wondered at the point in even trying to explain it and then decided that this truth, at least, deserved to be said even if fell on deaf ears. “I want you know that what terrified me about seeing the real, the assassin, part of you –– what disgusted me –– it wasn’t because it was your history. It wasn’t even because it was you or how you acted. I mean it frightened me but that’s because I’m…” her throat closed around the words. She couldn’t say them.

She couldn’t even confess to herself.

“I’m a DEO Agent,” Alex explained instead. “And to ensure the safety of my Earth from extraterrestrial life I don’t always get to be the good guy. The job that came with taking on Kara as my responsibility means that I have to be the person that makes those decisions, so that she doesn’t have to. Even if the person I-I do that to has a family that they’re just trying to protect. Even if they’re not the bad guy, just in the wrong place, working for the wrong person or because…because I was ordered to. And I’m used to been given orders to do that, to kill,” she swallowed as she said the words, feeling it stick in her throat. “Orders I knew were right, or wanted to believe were, and maybe I don’t have to make them as much because Kara can just.swoop right in and save the day…  But I used to. I used to do it a lot to keep her safe and you, that you, I didn’t want to see myself there.”

Sara stared at her. Her lips pursed. There was no understanding or conviction. Just a cold, blank slate before she looked away. 

“I still believe what I said, about the difference between an assassin and a government agent. I didn’t realise it was so…” 

Alex trailed off, hearing the hollowness of the words, despite knowing their sincerity. It didn’t matter what the truth was, Sara wasn’t listening to her anymore and Alex could find the words for herself. There was nothing she could do.

She felt the fight drop from herself.

Through it all, Sara didn’t say a word. And with that, Alex knew she wasn’t welcome here anymore. 

It was just a dream, she decided whilst allowing herself to unbind from the dreamscape, and slip away, back into the darkness. 

Just a dream. 

The world felt cold again.