Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Christine’s life was largely like any other working woman’s life. Routine baked into routine after routine. Get up, go to work, come home and lose yourself in meaningless hobbies. Stomp out the loneliness with perfect virtual lovers who cost you way too much money, fight the urge to cry, rinse and repeat. Monotony sliced by calls with family and distant friends, all busy, all stuck in the grind, all consumed by the machine of daily life. It was as dreadful as it was comforting. But sometimes, life's routine was broken in terrible ways.

You really don’t know how good you have it huh? The thought zinged through Christine's head, ill time and terrible, tears filling her eyes in disbelief in the seconds before the flare of headlights encompassed her entire vision. For fuck sakes-!!

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BEEP BEEP

Good god, shut up! The thought rang through her head along with the rattling of her brain, pulsing and aching in a foggy haze that made her stomach churn. A low groan whimpered past her lips, desperate and pleading.

A low male voice spoke quietly beside her as she dared to try and open her eyes. “It looks like she’s waking up.” Slightly louder, a large hand pressing to her forehead. “Miss Christine, can you hear me?”

Familiar, the voice was so familiar. She just couldn’t place it, eyes squinting and crinkling as light split through her brain like a cruel lance. “Yeah…” She barely managed to rasp the word out, tears beading as she blinked desperately against the sting of what felt like a thousand suns behind her eyelids.

“Photophobia, Yvonne, can you lower the lights?”

The voice was merciful and kind, a god amongst man. At his command the light dimmed with blessed relief, leaving nothing but that wonderful floaty feeling. Eyes finally opening Christine stared up into the white ceiling above her with a squint, confusion burbling as she slowly started flexing her fingers and toes. What the hell happened…?

“Do you remember what happened?”

Oohhh he’s mimicking me? A shadow eclipsed her vision, a face blocking the ceiling tiles. Christine blinked and then blinked again, a smile curling her lips unthinkingly. “You look so much like Zayne.” She chuckled, as the man tilted his head in askance. She stared up at him with a silly grin. “Handsome…”

A muffled female laugh from somewhere to her side had not-Zayne frowning, the sharp cut of his jaw on display as he glared at whoever had made that sound. He gestured for something and then returned, glancing back down at her, expression blank. “I’m glad you can recognize me.”

She sighed deeply, happily. Wow I really must have hit my head hard… am I hallucinating? But really the way this doctor looked was striking. Hazel eyes ringed with thick lashes, black hair and smooth skin, like a runway model in a lab coat. Zayne’s face card never declined and if she was going to hallucinate on top of whoever was actually looking after her, why not one of the guys from Love and Deepspace? Still smiling she watched his ears turn slightly red even as not an inch of his expression twitched. Suddenly what he said registered. Christine snorted out a laugh. Recognized… right… Definitely hallucinating. “Of course Doctor Zayne, I’d never forget your face.” She chuckled to herself and sighed, a groan at the back of her throat as that floaty feeling began to ebb. “Nooo you’re taking away my pain meds.” She recognized the feeling of awareness returning with a grunt of despair.

“It takes several hours for the effects of pain medication to wear off. We took those away a while ago.”

She glared unthinkingly. “Boo…”

“Indeed.” Not-Zayne bent closer, adjusting her IV line and pulling out a tablet, the flickering light of it illuminating his face in a blue glow. “Can you give me your full name and date of birth?”

A grunt and a sigh, she spoke. “Christine Termine, born on the 5th of April.” Guess this doctor's name is also Zayne? But man… he even sounds the same!

He hummed and nodded. “Occupation?”

“Uhh-” She stalled, cheeks heating. How do I say I just got laid off before getting hit by a truck…?

Those hazel eyes could cut diamonds, they were so sharp. He watched her stutter, a frown just barely furrowing his brow. The pause was getting awkward as he waited. At last he seemed to take pity on her stuttering. “What’s the date?”

“August 15!” That at least she could answer. It’d probably be a long time before she forgot the day she not only got hit by a truck but she also managed to lose her job in a shitty mass layoff. Absolute bastards. Inwardly she fumed once more. Asking someone to move half way around the country only to can their ass two months in. The sheer audacity of these corporations was mind boggling.

Not-Zayne was frowning again, looking over her head for the nurse and writing rapidly on his tablet. “Year?”

“Uhhh 2025…?” The words trailed off as his eyes snapped down to hers, alarmed.

A pause and a breath, he pushed his silver rimmed glasses up his nose. “Address?”

Should I give the air bnb where i’ve been staying while looking for an apartment or my grandma’s address..? “Uh, I can give you my grandmother’s address?”

He pinched his nose briefly, eyes sliding closed. Upon closer inspection this Zayne look alike was absolutely exhausted. She cringed, staring around the room hesitantly and plucking at the blanket. God knew being a healthcare worker was ass on the best of days, better to not make his life anymore difficult.

Clearing her throat Christine spoke quietly. “Sorry….”

He was already shaking his head, tablet stowed as he leaned over to the bedside table, writing rapidly on the pad he had stored there. Now that she was looking around her room she could feel her eyebrows raising. This was the nicest hospital room she had ever seen. Shouldn’t I be in the ER…? Were private rooms this nice even a thing in Canada? And yet… something about it was so goddamn familair… “Uhm… doctor…”

He let out a little hum as he straightened those striking eyes capturing hers once more.

“Where am I?” No way was she at Montreal General Hospital, this whole place looked way too new and she hadn’t heard a single “tabarnak” even from the hallway.

He sighed and pulled off his glasses, tucking them into the pocket of his doctor's coat with sure fingers. The action drew her eyes to his chest where his badge swung, blue and bright against the white of his coat. Her brain fuzzed as she read it. No goddamn way…

“You’re at Akso hospital. You were brought in from the Bloomshore District by ambulance three days ago after being at the sight of an explosion. Do you remember it?”

“Wha-what?” Akso?! No… She stared up at him, frowning deeply. “Is this some sorta joke?!” Sick, it was goddamn sick if someone thought this was funny.

Her chest hurt the harder she breathed, air sawing roughly in and out of her lungs as this asshole wore the face of one of her favourite characters. “Listen-!”

Not-Zayne cut her off smoothly, hands gently pushing her back into the bed as she half rose to try and do something. “You were brought in after suffering sudden cardiac arrest related to the disruption of the protocore fragment in your heart. You coded on the operating table twice and died for exactly one minute and twenty-eight seconds before your evol kicked in and forced a resonance detonation which restarted your heart. You destroyed operating room three and nearly knocked out the attending staff as well as myself.”

She stopped, staring up at him as her face paled rapidly. Slowly her eyes drifted to her wrist where this not-Zayne was holding her carefully, his thumb smoothing over the bandage wrapped tightly around its circumference. Her brain vehemently denied his words even as something in her clamored. “That’s not…”

“It is.” His voice was insistent, hand tightening just barely. “Please stay seated. I am sending you for an MRI to assess if there was any lingering damage to your brain from the explosion.”

Panic, suddenly it was clawing, clamoring and fighting. “N-no, wait! This isn’t funny if you think-!”

“I assure you,” Zayne leaned forward, those striking hazel green eyes filling Christine's entire vision. Jasmine, lavender and antiseptic… there were scars on the hand that held her… Impossible scars, impossible hands, impossible eyes… “I am not joking about anything.” Words delivered he leaned back and gestured for the nurse who had been lingering at the foot of the bed this entire time. “Please monitor our Miss Hunter, neurology should page soon.” With that he was leaving, the white of his coat fluttering as he disappeared out the sliding glass doors and left her alone in the cavernous silence.

“Miss Termine?”

She blinked and met the eyes of the nurse suddenly standing beside her. “Yes?”

The nurse smiled kindly, gently smoothing the blanket that had been disrupted by her swift movements. “We began lowering your dose of pain medication two hours ago, how are you feeling overall?”

Christine blinked, tears burgeoning at the corner of her eyes. What the fuck is happening? “Uhm…” She sniffed hard, hands twisting. “I’m… nauseous and my head hurts.”

With a gentle nod the nurse helped her adjust her laying position, grabbing a tablet from the pocket on her uniform and quickly typing on it. “Naseau is a really common side effect of opioids so don’t worry. I’ll come back in a bit and check on you, okay? Also be careful of the bandages on your hands, they're quite burned and we don't want to disrupt the healing process. Dinner should be served soon, we’ll see about getting some food in you then. If the nausea or head pain gets worse press the button beside you, alright?”

She nodded dumbly, staring at the nurse's badge quickly before clearing her throat. “Thanks Yvonne…” What the hell…?

Another smile, another pat of a gentle hand and suddenly she was truly alone.

Silence. She laid there in it, panic clawing and anxiety burgeoning. “Okay…” She breathed quietly under her breath, old therapy sessions coming back as she forced herself to run through some calming exercises. “I can see the ceiling tile…” Christine swallowed hard, fingers clenching on the bed below. “I can feel the bed…” A deep breath, more tears fighting to escape. “I-I can smell antiseptic and cologne.” She choked, hands abruptly slinging forward and tightly clasping together, white knuckling as she bit down on her lip hard enough to make it bleed. “I can taste blood…” The confirmation was like a dam cracking, fear suddenly a writhing thing in her stomach. “What the fuck, what the actual fuck!” Adrenaline, it flooded her body and made the heart monitor beep, her fight or flight instincts kicking into full gear as she stared around the impossible fictional world she was laying in.

A coma? Am I living out some weird fantasy life while lying unconscious somewhere else?! Tears blurred her vision as she reached shakily for the cards she could now see resting on the bedside table. You can’t read in dreams… right? It didn't matter that she had read the two name tags before, her brain was probably just making her think she had read them. She pulled the closest one to her, something garish and pink, flashy and ugly. Right there in bright rainbow letters it proudly spelled out “Get Well Soon” in mocking sparkling font. She gagged, heaving as the monitor turned into a shrill screech on the wall and her heart pounded.

The sound of the door sliding open was white noise. Panic, it was unstoppable, it was consuming! Her legs jittered, hands fighting the lines attached to her with a sudden burst of energy. She had to leave! She had to run!!

Voices. They were loud where they thundered. Hands on her wrists, stopping her from pulling out the IV lines as she sobbed. A female voice was speaking calmingly but it was the male voice that arrested her attention. How could it not? After hundreds of hours of listening to it, of taking comfort in it and its presence? “Z-zayne.” She stuttered out his name as those impossible eyes met hers once more.

Christine was barely aware of anything as Zayne half pinned her, his voice strong as he spoke. “Yvonne, the lorazepam…” He leaned closer to her. “Breathe, it’s okay.” His eyes flicked from the card and back to her face, something pained cracking through his icy expression at last as Yvonne fluttered just outside her vision at her IV line. “I’m sorry I should have removed the cards until I told you-” He cut himself off as she cried, his face twisting and brow furrowing.

Told me about what?

The drug in her IV line hit her like a tsunami, heaviness flooding her limbs and drooping her eyelids. He released her as she settled, gently retucking her into the bed as those hazel eyes stayed trained on her. His words were nothing more than white noise, his hand barely felt where it smoothed back her hair as unconsciousness came for her in a swift, black wave.

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Waking was somehow worse than last time. Christine groaned as consciousness returned in stages. She wiggled her toes and fingers, counted her breaths and then counted them again. Slowly she peeled her eyes open. The headache inducing light sensitivity seemingly gone as she quietly peered around the hospital room, now lit with daylight seeping through the sheer blinds against the windows. Impossible. Slowly she raised her hands, inspecting them with dread. She started with her palms, the creases of them and the lines, breath hitching at the lack of familiar scars and the introduction of new ones. Burns… her hands were covered in them as were her forearms. Did MC try to crawl through the debris after the explosion? Had she tried to reach grandma and Caleb? It made her stomach roll to think about. This… body… she was possessing. Tears beaded the more she looked. Even her nails were different, shapely and trimmed neatly, for all that they were also burnt and cracked.

Shaky hands pulled on hair, long, so much longer than it should be and dark. She sniffed hard, trembling. The ombre colour she had so painstakingly dyed in was gone. Even the texture of it was different. Straight and smooth, silky even after days of lacking care. No curls. No split ends. No nothing! Her hands snapped down to her lap, clenching tightly causing pain to shoot through the raw skin. Please, this has to be a joke, this has to be….

She had no time to stew in it, the increased beeping of her heart monitor heralding the low whoosh of the door as a new nurse poked her head in.

“Oh! Ms! You’re awake.” She was shorter than Yvonne, older, with kind eyes and tanned skin. She bustled into the room with a tray steaming with rice and soup. Placing it before Christine the nurse talked all the while, adjusting her into a sitting position and asking questions. “You were unconscious when we took you for your MRI but the results should be in soon. Doctor Li will be back to discuss them with you once he’s done with his outpatient but in the meantime you’ve been cleared for some food! Isn’t that nice? Oh here dear, up you go!” With that she found herself fully upright, strong hands adjusting her pillows and placing an eating tray over lap. “How is your head? How are your eyes?”

“Uhm… they're better?” She couldn’t stop the questioning lilt to her tone at the absolute hive of energy that this woman possessed. A friendly chuckle and a gentle pat, a spoon and chopsticks were placed in her uncooperative hands. Christine stared down at them and then back up at the nurse, tears beading in her eyes. “Thank you…” Different… It was so different.

The nurse nodded again and smiled warmly. “Of course! Just hit the button if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” The words slipped out quietly as she stared down at the meal in her lap, barely noticing as the other woman left. No toast, no sausages, no eggs or maple syrup. No pancakes either and not even a shitty jello cup. Shaky hands grabbed the bright package to the side of the tray and read the flavor of the bun inside. Jackfruit… For some reason it was like the straw that broke the camel's back. A sob, once, twice: they burst past her lips without her permission as she wrestled with the sheer dysphoria suddenly crashing through her. No one would ever order something jackfruit flavored in a country known for being frozen most of the time.

For some reason she started shovelling the food in her mouth even as she hiccuped tears onto her face. Christine had started playing Love and Deepspace on a whim. She’d seen the little cat minigame of all things during the Cat Butler event and downloaded the game thinking it'd be something she played for a month and then dropped. At first she’d been confused. A convoluted story of twisting timelines, love and re-incarnation, a host of male leads who had been equal parts confusing and intriguing. Honestly that first text from Xavier where he just “found” MC’s number nearly had her deleting the game right then. How creepy! If a real life man had done that? Into the bin, it wouldn't matter how nice his face card was.

But then… over the course of days and months she has sunk into it. Loneliness. It was dominating… consuming. Was it so wrong to want to have someone to work out with? To have a host of nonjudgmental men in her phone who she could listen to and talk to, sleep with and eat with, fake people who wouldn’t judge her life and would make her feel seen? She had become attached. Giggling and kicking her feet both metaphorically and literally at the different banners and cards, diving deep into the lore of the myths and eagerly anticipating each release.

Christine stared around the hospital room as her stomach rolled. I never wanted to BE here though. She sniffed again, spoon clattering onto the tray as she gripped her head with both hands. MC’s life was shit. She fought monsters at a job that apparently overworked her while simultaneously giving her loads of time off. Everyone wanted her dead or wanted her heart and she might be some kinda goddess? And to top it off she had at least five guys who were all tied to her and had some flavor of killer stalker combo going on. Some more than others. Her skin crawled as she contemplated it. Souls shared and hearts given. Pressure, it was too much pressure. She was not MC. Christine couldn’t fight, couldn’t hurt a fly. She lacked MC’s playfulness and charisma. And men? MEN?! Suddenly she snorted out a wet laugh, wiping her face roughly. Fictional men? All day everyday. Real men? No thanks. The trauma of actual men was too much.

These poor bastards. Her hands tensed around her spoon before she simply continued to shovel more food into her mouth. “Since I’m not actually her though does any of this stuff apply?” Shouldn’t Sylus and Rafayel and all the others be tied to MC, not her? After all, her soul was her’s, not anyone else's. Surely after meeting her once they would all realize the love of their lives was gone. Dead. Buried. Unless MC was… inside her? She stilled at the thought, concentrating deeply. Seconds ticked by into minutes but no voice manifested, no emotion that was not her own. Something about that was comforting…

Sighing softly she refocused on her tray. Am I really in a goddamn otome game? A loud sniffle and more tears, they plopped into her soup in depressing ripples. There was no world in which any of these men would fall in love with her and quite frankly, she didn’t want them to. Christine shuddered, thoughts of big bodies and strong hands making fear zing up her spine. No, I can’t even think about it. Scary. Real men were goddamn scary. She played games to live vicariously through them. But… It would be nice if any of them wanted to be her friend. It’d make living here bearable at the very least.

Suddenly she groaned, spoon hanging from her mouth and hands in her hair. Mental break with reality or not, if all this was really happening, these men and their problems were the least of her worries. They could all screw off for all she cared, there was something far more pressing at play. “How the fuck am I going to fight wanderers?! How do I pay my bills?!” She burst into tears and sobbed, stuffing the jackfruit bun into her mouth and nearly choking on it. “I’m going to end up homeless!!!”

Into that mess Zayne walked, hazel eyes wide as he watched her cry on the bed and devour her bun with heaving breaths. He was by her side before she even realized, peering down at her from beneath his silver frames with a concerned tilt to his mouth. His hand was out, grabbing the bun before she could stuff more of it in her face. “Careful, you’re going to choke.”

She heaved in another deep breath and swallowed, staring up at him like he was her salvation. Zayne was safe. Zayne was stable. Zayne knew MC the most right now and best of all, MC had pursued him at the start of the game. As long as she didn’t flirt with him, Zayne wouldn’t try and make moves on her which meant he probably wasn’t going to stab her either. Should she tell him the truth? Should she lie?! Outwardly he blinked as she simply stared at him with a trembling chin.

At last she spoke, words blurted out in a heaving rush. “Zayne, I barely remember anything.” He tilted his head but she bullied over whatever he was about to say, squashing the bun anxiously. “I remember meeting you again at Akso and we met up at a cafe right? You made me a snow seal?” At his nod she continued. “Right okay, awesome. I took you to Raymond too, right?” Another nod. “That’s all I remember.”

“What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips and ground her teeth. Telling the total truth would get her thrown in the bin, telling mostly the truth though? Best she could do. “I mean… what I remember is all over the place. I don’t remember my childhood though I know I had one and you were there. I don’t remember university or my first job, I don’t remember my address or- or my banking password.” Tears again. “I don’t know how to pay my utilities or if I have student loans. I don’t remember any of my friends from university and I don’t know what size I am in clothes and-!”

Zayne squeezed her hand gently along with the bun, pulling his fingers back slightly as she heaved in deep breath after deep breath. “I understand.”

She blinked at him in shock. “You do?!”

He hesitated for a moment and then grabbed the chair by her bed, pulling it forward and sitting calmly. His calm calmed her, the threadiness of her breath slowing in increments. He removed his glasses and pinched the brow of his nose, a deep breath raising his chest before he settled. From the depths of his coat he pulled out a familiar black box, one with a fingerprint lock. Christine stared at it, then him, then back to it, eyebrows dipping down. All of his considerable attention was suddenly focused on her as he spoke quietly. “I didn’t want to give this to you today but it’s tied to what you’re experiencing right now.” He handed her the box and sat back. “But first, the extent of your memories. Do you remember your grandmother and Caleb?”

She nodded slowly and cut him off before he could speak. “I know they’re dead, Zayne.” Well, not Caleb… but at least as far as anyone here knows… Her hands picked at the bun as she thought of MC’s pseudo brother figure/childhood friend, anxious. Christine wasn’t a hero, she wasn’t a fighter. The vague thought of trying to help Caleb and save him from whatever was happening to him immediately sputtered and died. Not my business. However, her grandma and her brother. She felt like she was floating outside her body as a new thought crashed through her. Am I ever going to see my family again?!

Her life had always been lonely but what had never changed was her family. Her parents had died too early, a stupid accident taking both their lives before their children even reached elementary school. For all intents and purposes their grandma had been their mother, her and her brothers. That annoying little shit who was her ride or die, her rock and her longest companion. Will they be okay without me?! Tears again, they slid slowly down her cheeks and plopped onto her tray, grief, deep and cloying aching in her chest with the force of a hurricane. “I’m never going to see them again.” The words slipped out quietly while she viciously scrubbed her face. Awkward… so awkward to sit with this familiar stranger, him thinking she was mourning a family he knew. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend she was just chatting with Zayne in the game, venting and listening to the calming sound of his breathing. She glanced up and cringed. What an intimidating man in real life, good god.

Zayne didn’t reach out to comfort, stiff as he bowed his head. “They would want you to take good care of yourself.”

“Right.” She rasped the word out and stared down at her tray, unable to make eye contact with him. He looked way too real, so much so that it made her uncomfortable. There were lines on his face, fine but there that the game never rendered, a five o’clock shadow was darkening his jaw and he had circles under his eyes. Stories and changes to his person that he had gained from a life lived. A real life. The scars on his hands were deep, she could see now that his sleeves were tightly buttoned around his wrist, stopping his coat or his shirt from moving any higher. Did he feel insecure about them? Did he worry about them? Suddenly she wondered in a way she never had before… and yet. What truly made it all so weird was his sheer physical presence. Digital and now real, god but it was intimidating. No doctor needs to be this jacked.

Zayne had been a comforting figure on her phone for nearly a year. She had adored watching him go from cold to warm, blushed and cheered as he had melted into a person who was as solid and steadfast as he was comforting in both MC’s life and her own. Christine loved all the love interests, much to her wallets endless tears, but Zayne had been the character who had gotten her to download the game. And now, he was a real man, breathing and shifting with hands that could cover her entire face and a height that was, quite frankly, alarming. Real men really were not it.

She pushed the thought away as his voice interrupted her spiral. Slowly she closed her eyes. Looking at him was making her anxious and she just could not handle it. “The device I gave you can explain more I believe, if I am correct on its contents. However, I will start by saying your lack of memory is not unprecedented. Your MRI came black clear. There is… another reason for your loss.” He hesitated just briefly before continuing briskly. “Before the explosion, Jospehine… warned me of the possibility of a strong evol reaction if you were seriously injured. She mentioned memory loss in the process.”

Christine's eyes snapped open as she stared down at the box on the table. He thinks I rebooted, like MC did as a child from all those crazy ass experiments. Her hand drifted to her chest, to the stupid shitty aether core she knew was there with a tremble. “O-oh.” It’s all she could think to say.

Zayne paused at her side, seemingly girding himself. “Christine.” Her name was a shock to hear in that voice, eyes jerking to his and widening. He was clenching his hands together on his lap, back so straight she felt pained just looking at him. He spoke slowly, carefully, gaze lowered. “It’s possible your memories might never come back. You might not remember but I do. Our childhood.” A deep breath, a rough exhale through his nose. Hesitant. He was so surprisingly hesitant as he wrestled with the words on his tongue. “You’re not alone.” She blinked, chest compressing almost violently as he spoke measuredly. “I… know it’s not my place. It probably feels very strange to have someone you barely remember offer you such things, perhaps even an overstep on a relationship that feels one sided… however, if you should wish it.” He swallowed and met her eyes, gaze tired but sure. “I’ll help you. Your concerns, your worries… you can bring them to me. I won’t abandon you.”

This fucking guy. She sniffled and shoved the rest of the bun into her mouth in one jerky move. MC had just died on his operating table. Good god the trauma of that, no wonder he was offering to stick close even as he so clearly looked uncomfortable. Outwardly she simply nodded, clutching her head as she chewed and swallowed. “Thank you Zayne…” She heaved in a deep breath and held it. “Thank you…”

As soon as the words left her mouth he was standing, tablet out and professionalism descending with such speed she felt like she was getting whiplash. “Of course. I imagine this is all very overwhelming. Shall we go over your test results now and next steps?”

What followed was a clipped and concise conversation. Her heart had been rattled and she had new metaflux channels growing??? As well as burns on her legs, chest, hands, and arms. She’d suffered a concussion, some minor hearing damage and to top it all off she’d sprained her ankle. Suffice to say, Zayne wasn’t going to be clearing her to go back to the Hunter’s Association anytime soon, not least because of her “memory” loss.

“Uh, Zayne.” Should I call him doctor? He stopped from where he had stood, adjusting the lines attached to her body. “I… don’t remember how to be a hunter…”

He blinked and tapped his hand against his opposite arm as he shifted them across his chest. “The Hunter’s Association has a plethora of retraining and physical therapy programs. It’s a dangerous job, they anticipate these sorts of situations to a certain extent.”

She swallowed hard and picked at her rice grain by grain. “O-oh okay.” I’m gonna get fired…

Zayne hesitated above her before speaking softly. “I’m sure your Captain will be reasonable but I will get in contact with them to ensure we have an appropriate plan in place for you to go back to work safely and in due time.”

Fuck, I can’t fight monsters. A new thought emerged. Do I have enough savings to NOT fight the monsters?! She forced the words down and nodded to him, still clutching the box he had given her and picking at her food. Suddenly her vision was filled with a black rectangle, rapid blinks making her realize it was a phone. She took it from Zayne slowly, hand swiping across the surface.

“I charged it for you after the police returned it.”

Silence, she stared at it as the password screen popped up on its cracked surface, a helpless feeling burgeoning in her chest. “Thank you but… I don’t remember…”

“Ah.”

He tapped the top of the bed briefly, a frown on his face as he stared at her burnt hands and the fingerprint button. “Perhaps you turned on facial recognition?” He leaned closer, jasmine, lavender and antiseptic filling her senses. Internally she quaked as he towered, cutting an intimidating silhouette in the soft light bleeding from the outside. “May I?”

“Of course.” She slid the phone back into his hands quickly, watching the flex of tendons beneath his skin as he swiped and abruptly faced the screen back towards her. Christine’s breath stalled at the face staring back at her, out of body dissociation descending immediately. The woman on the phone blinked, smooth skinned and beautiful, large eyed with professionally shaped eyebrows, a near total stranger. Her gut heaved viciously at the sight, hand coming up to cover her mouth in a strange sense of horror, brain zinging and protesting as the doppelganger in the device mirrored her.

There was no warning, bile fast and sharp, she heaved, throwing up all that wonderful breakfast onto her tray and Zayne’s lab coat in a dizzying rush of adrenaline. Man truly is a doctor. She thought in a daze as he quickly grabbed her hair and moved it out and away from her face, pressing the button beside her bed. “Ah, perhaps we should have started you with a lighter meal?”

Are you telling a fucking joke right now?! She heaved again, tears beading her eyeline as the nurse from before rushed back in. Together with Zayne her tray was taken away and her mouth was cleaned, the world was a blur as he and the nurse took her to the bathroom, the woman chattering calmly all the while. Reality returned as she sat in the shower on a chair, naked, bandages wrapped in plastic bags while the nurse from before wiped down her chest, Zayne long gone.

“Are you back with me dear?”

Christine blinked, eyes landing on the woman as she gently smoothed a cloth over her legs. “Y-yeah…” She glanced down at the nurses badge and stumbled. “Thanks Mayari…?”

A chuckle. “You are very welcome. We should have been more careful about what we fed you, hm? Though doctor Li did say you were putting it away like you were starving.”

For a moment, confusion reigned. Who…? Then she thumped her head into her free hand. Of course no one was going to refer to the lead cardiac surgeon at the hospital by his first name. What the HELL game?! “Yeah…. Haha…” She stared down at Mayari and shuffled awkwardly. “I can um… wash myself?”

“Don’t worry about it, we’re all done now. Can you use the toilet by yourself while I get you some fresh clothes or do you need help? We took out your catheter overnight so watch out, might feel a little spicy if you get what I mean?” Her cheeky wink made Christine chuckle.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Of course!’

Alone at last she sighed deeply, standing on shaky legs for the first time since landing in this strange world. Vertigo hit her immediately. She was shorter. “Fuck… fuck - FUCK!” Tears again, she was so goddamn sick of them, hopping on one leg like a newborn over to the mirror in the bathroom. It hit her again, the sheer out of body feeling of the stranger in the reflection. Slowly she touched her cheek, fingers trailing around her nose and over her lips, goosebumps bursting along her skin. Bizarre, this was so bizarre. The woman staring back at her paled, panicked eyes darting across her bandaged chest and arms, the healthy tan of her skin washing out in a wave as long hair slid forward. “At least… I sorta still look like me?” And she did. Like a terrifying version of herself that had been pressed to perfection and spat out of an explosion. I can’t look anymore.

Turning away from the mirror she stared down at the toilet and then down at her naked body. It felt wrong, so desperately wrong. It was humiliating, to sit on the toilet and disassociate but this body felt so foreign it was a miracle she had managed to accomplish her goal at all.

Mayari returned with a knock, waiting politely for her to finish and bustling her back to the bed in a wheelchair. Resting once more on cleaned sheets her phone was placed on the tray, the black lockbox next to it.

“I’ll be back in a bit!’

With that it was just Christine, the phone and the box. She ignored the box. In the end, she more or less knew its contents and honestly, Josephine was no one to her. All of that and all the implications behind the aether core would be a task for another day. The phone however…

Up it went, that stranger flashing once more in the cracked glass before the device unlocked, an array of apps unfolding on a boring, default background. She frowned at the sight of it, smoothing her thumb through the different pages slowly. Her eyes caught on one app in particular with an “M” icon, notifications bright and accusing where they flashed. With a tap it unfurled, familiar UI making her breath seize. “Moments is a real thing here…”

First she went to the messages. There were… depressingly few of them. She blinked in surprise. One from Captain Jenna wishing her a swift recovery, another from Tara and Gideon, all saying the same, condolences expressed and healing hoped for. The last one caught her attention, Rafayel's name highlighted with several missed notifications.

Rafayel: i think a certain miss bodyguard forgot sommeetthiinnnggg

A day later.

Rafayel: are you okay

A new message, marked just an hour ago.

Rafayel: did you get the thing

She hesitated, staring at the typing box with a pounding heart. Rafayel had been the only love interest that had reached out in the game after the explosion, right? She tapped the text box, swallowing hard as a keyboard appeared instead of preset prompts. This conversation was supposed to go a certain way. It felt… fully and finally like she had come full circle, the games UI colliding violently with reality. She couldn’t ignore it, even as she wanted to do nothing more besides throw the device and forget about it.

Hesitant fingers tapped, words forming.

Me: I haven’t received anything…?

She stalled, breath in her chest as his portrait lit up, a typing bubble appearing in moments. Real… this was real.

Rafayel: ?

Rafayel: asked a seagull to send you a white seashell why hasnt it arrived yet

Rafayel: …

Rafayel: hang on will check the reef over there seagull must have stashed it away

She blinked and re-read the messages several times, a laugh in her throat. He types just like in the game. Punctuation Rafayel!

Me: Why are you giving me a seashell all of a sudden?

Rafayel: i heard about what happened

Rafayel: idk maybe i just wanna find you something to do or maaaybe im worried youll forget me

Christine's breath seized at that last part, the phone cracking in her hand as he typed. Goddammit I’m so sorry Rafayel.

Rafayel: back in my hometown people paint their memories about the dead on seashells

Rafayel: they let the ocean deliver them to where souls rest

Rafayel: thought you might want one

Tears were beading at the corner of her eyes, blurring her vision. This whole interaction felt so… comforting and yet horrifying. Like she was sitting in her room and typing away in her game, her escape. At the same time, MC was gone. The woman he was speaking to was gone and never coming back.

Me: Thank you Rafayel, that’s very thoughtful of you.

Rafayel: why so polite im not used to this

Rafayel: anyway not in a hurry so take your time

Rafayel: hope next time we meet you have a smile on your face

She sighed deeply and groaned. If memory served her well, that should be the last of it right? Suddenly the phone buzzed, their chat lighting once more.

Rafayel: speaking of which are you cleared for visitors

Rafayel: seagulls are all well and good but some things should be delivered in person

Ice flashed down her spine, eyes bulging. He wants to meet in person…?

Me: I don’t know if I am?

A pause, that typing prompt once more on screen.

Rafayel: dun worry your pretty head ill figure it out

Oh no. The moment he saw her he would know, she was positive. MC and Rafayel, they had a bond, tied through centuries and lifetimes, unending and devastating. That bond should have been severed the moment Christine ended up pancaked by that stupid truck and transposed here. He’s going to kill me. The phone thumped onto the bed along with her hands as she stared around the hospital room in a daze. What else could he do when she was possessing the love of his life's body?!

Hours passed. Each flickering figure behind the frosted glass of her door sending her heartrate skyrocketing. Mayari returned at one point, meds given and a simple broth set on the tray, but she couldn’t stomach more than a mouthful, eyes constantly darting to the phone now resting, off and ominous at her side. More time ticked by. She turned on the TV and stared uncomprehending as news reports for Linkon City flashed by along with unfamiliar dramas and even more unfamiliar cooking shows. It was in the middle of learning how to fry fish balls that Zayne returned, his familiar figure cutting an intimidating silhouette.

She stared at his coat, fresh and cleanly pressed. Immediately she mentally groaned, deeply embarrassed. “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

He stopped at her side, the barest twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. “It’s fine. You get used to those sorts of things in healthcare.” Zayne cleared his throat lightly and met her eyes more firmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Much less like death thanks to you and everyone else.”

He nodded and tapped on the tablet in his hand, hesitance colouring his voice as he spoke. “That’s good to hear. You should be discharged with a follow up plan in a few days. I want to keep you for monitoring a bit longer to ensure your heart doesn’t have another episode. Does that make sense to you?”

He was such a doctor, it was a bit wild to see. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He straightened and tapped the bed lightly. “How are your memories, have you had anything come back to you?”

Was he waiting for that? She shook her head, catching the barest droop of his shoulders as he went back to typing.

“I see. One final question. There is a visitor here to see you. Medically speaking, you’re clear, but I understand that it might feel strange to have someone you don’t recognize come and sit with you. Would you like to see them?”

Fucking shit Rafayel is here. Her heart thundered, Zayne’s hazel eyes arresting the words bubbling at the tip of her tongue. Part of her wanted to send him away, delay the inevitable and hide behind his doctor's coat. The rest however… I can’t put off seeing all these guys forever. They’re all going to show up one by one won’t they? “N-no. No it’s okay, he can come in…”

Zayne’s expression didn’t so much as twitch but for some reason the room felt a little colder. “As you wish. Would you like to disclose the nature of your memory loss yourself or would it be helpful to have me do it?”

This though she would take. “Please tell him. I don’t even know how to even begin to explain…”

He nodded, hesitating at her side before bending and tucking her blanket beneath her arm almost thoughtlessly. “Visiting hours are until 18:00, make sure to tell your guest that.”

She blinked at the gesture, trying to catch his eyes but he was already turning around and disappearing back through the door.

Anxiety roared as she fidgeted, waiting. She was terrified. The shadow of the man moving behind the door, another confirmation of being in some other goddamn world. He’s going to know I’m not her. Hysterically she clenched her hands on the thin blanket. Would he at least kill her quickly for replacing his beloved?! Christine held her breath as the door slid open and Rafayel came through. He was speaking to Zayne over his shoulder which was SUCH a strange thing to see. Had any of them… ever talked in game? Regardless it gave her a moment to take him in and calm her racing heart.

The first thing that struck her was his size. It had been easy enough to mentally view him as being “short” when the community had constantly compared all the love interests online but he towered, barely shorter than Zayne, lithe and muscular, shoulders broader than she expected. His voice had a familiar lilt to it, unthinkingly urging her to relax even as she stiffened like a board. He was dressed in a surprisingly subdued manner, a fitted coat and black pants, bags dangling from his hands and tapping against his thigh. His hair was striking. She stared at it, the purple tint and the blue highlights. Did everyone just think that was a hell of a dye job? It was practically iridescent.

Zayne caught her eye briefly but she was blind to it and his frown. She was staring, deeply, contemplatively, locked in her own head, unaware as Rafayel turned and caught her, conversation done. Too consumed she didn’t hear him clear his throat, was barely aware of his approach until he was inches from her bedside, a hand with painted nails waving in front of her face.

“Earth to Miss Bodyguard, are you there?”

She jerked like he had electrocuted her, paling. Silence. She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze, eyes skirting around the room desperately as she waited, breath held. It was going to happen anytime now. He’d notice his mystical bond or whatever he had with MC was gone and he was going to pull out his dagger and stab her! The two of them stayed that way, tension rising until abruptly Rafayel leaned forward, hand out. She jerked, eyes cringing closed and waited. And waited…

He huffed a soft laugh, the sound causing her to blink her eyes open and search his face. It was then that they finally made eye contact. Wow… “Beautiful….” The words slipped out as she stared into their depths. Oh the game had not done him justice … The colour of his eyes were captivating. Pinks and blues, dual toned and deep as the sea. They crinkled at the corners as he smiled. Good god, that is a face that could launch wars…

Rafayel let out a soft cough, flushing. It crawled across his cheeks and heated his ears at her quiet word. “Wow, Miss Bodyguard you’re gonna make me blush!” He fanned his face with his free hand, the other still held out and offered to her. “Your doctor told me you might not remember everything, which means this is either about to be hilarious or reaaalllyy awkward.”

She blinked, confused before slowly tilting her head down to stare at where he gestured with his chin to his hand. In it, he was holding a single red apple. Silence again and then it cracked through her, a laugh, loud and inelegant. This cheeky goddamn bastard. She had been so stressed, so scared. Tears blurred her vision as she laughed and laughed, helpless to it. At the door a figure stalled, staring through and stiffening, but for her it was just more white noise. What else could she do? “Y-you-!” She sucked in a desperate breath and took the apple from his hand while he stared at her with a smirk “Payback huh? Ha!! MC-” She cut herself off and shook her head, headache blooming. “I mean, I got you an apple from the goodness of my heart after a long day of hunting monsters. What’s your excuse?” Christine wiped at her face desperately and held the fruit up to the light to admire, chuckles still bursting from her lips in fits, avoiding Rafayel's eyes like her life depended on it. Guess that bond story happened…

“What do you mean? Why would I need an excuse? It was good enough for me? Riiigghhht?” He huffed and affected a pout, head tilting away imperiously as he drawled out his words. “This is the height of my affections, cutie, isn’t copying someone the most sincere form of flattery?”

She blew out a breath lightly, stressed little chuckles still slipping past her lips. “Oh I see… Don’t you know how mean it is to bully an injured person?” Really the audacity on him. Little fishie menace. She sighed around the thought, hand dropping back into her lap with a thump. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him…

At her side Rafayel shifted, purple hair edging her periphery as he leaned closer and gently tapped the back of her hand. “I know…” His voice was suddenly serious as he grabbed the free chair in the room and pulled it up next to the bed, settling in it and bringing the bags to rest on his lap. “I heard the basics from the news but… well.” He blinked away before focusing back on her intensely. “How well do you remember me…? Your doctor didn’t really say…” At her pause he huffed, leaning forward as if to share a secret. “Between you and me? Intimidating guy. Gave me the chills.” He faked a shiver that had her lips quirking slightly once more.

“Be nice.”

“Of course!”

With a deep breath she dropped her gaze to the apple, that burgeoning desire to cry still high in her chest. It was coming back… that feeling of dissociating. He was too real. Too present. I’m not dead yet though… “Honestly? Uh… not a whole lot. Sorry…” She cringed as she carefully watched his face from below the fringe of her hair. Poor Rafayel, afraid of being forgotten by the love of his life and here she was, parading around in her body. It made her stomach churn. “I do remember who you are though.”

“That makes sense. How could you possibly forget me again?” He nodded, expression surprisingly blank. Gently he patted her hand, a shiver crawling up her spine at the feel of his cool skin. The way his hand completely dwarfed hers… Goddamn why are they all giants?! “That’s okay cutie. You do remember the apple though, right? That counts for something…” He seemed to shake himself back from wherever his thoughts had taken him, smiling with the sort of warmth that should have been comforting but just made more alarm bells blare in her head.

“Yeah… I do…” She forced her eyes away again and cleared her throat. “I remember how we met and that I…. bodyguard for you sometimes? But uh… I don’t remember ever actually doing that.” She shrugged. “Sorry Mr. Rafayel, that’s probably not what you were hoping to hear.”

He gave her a full body cringe at her words, shifting back and pouting. “Okay. First off, don’t ever call me that ever again and secondly!” Suddenly he was closer, face filling her vision as he leaned in to catch the embarrassed flush of her expression. Too close!! “Don’t sweat it Miss Bodyguard, that’s why I’m here! I can fill you in! I know on paper we’re employer and employee but actually, we’re pretty good friends.”

Christine fought not to frown, hair raising slightly on her arms at his benign expression. That was not the impression I got from this point in the main story… “O-oh? We are? Well…” She trailed off as he stared up into her face with an amused quirk to his lips. Finally she settled on speaking simply. “That’s nice.”

He chuckled, agreement evident in the playful bow of his eyebrows. “Mhm-hmm! Why else would you come visit me in the hospital and vice versa? And anyway,” He grabbed the apple in her hand and bopped the top of her head with it playfully. “We’ve always hung out in person so I had to come see you, yeah?”

She squinted at him. “Uh-huh.” If Christine hadn’t been as deep into the lore of the game as she had been, she might have been thrilled to be in Rafayel's presence. From all accounts, he was aloof, sassy, funny and charming. A little whiny, sure! But he was, on paper, someone you would want to get to know. She compressed her lips as she watched him settle back in the chair, digging through the bags on his lap with swift movements. However, below the surface, despite all the red flags strapped proudly to Caleb’s chest and flickering around Xavier and Sylus, Rafayel was the real scariest love interest. She would have bet her savings on it if she still had them. He was obsessed. Hidden, smoothed over, like one of his paintings… but he was bound to MC for eternity. That sort of toxic relationship, though slowly resolving in the game, was not one that bred healthy thoughts, boundaries or anything else. The thought of it made her want to get up from the bed and sprint out the door.

She was drawn back to reality as something soft plopped into her arms, bright yellow and vibrant. “Wh-?”

“You probably don’t remember but at the arcade, you really wanted this one.” His eyes were as expectant as they were hesitant.

Christine blinked and stared down to where Artsy Birb was sitting in her arms. The Tender Moments four star memories, this had been one of them… right? How many of them had happened?! How far along was MC with all these guys? Outwardly she spoke quietly. “I did…” Trembling hands scooped up the soft toy, holding it up to the light and admiring the cast of its plush fur. “How many tries did it take you to get this?”

“Listen, we’re not gonna to talk about that, okay? Let’s just say the arcade owner is a liiitttttle bit richer.”

Another laugh puffed out her chest. Slowly she tucked the plushie under her chin and hugged it tightly, ignoring the sting of her burned hands as she closed her eyes and hid her face. “Thank you, Rafayel.” Genuinely, it was a very sweet gesture.

“No need to thank me, cutie! I’m just happy to see you smile.” He was still digging through the bags as she surreptitiously peeked at him, relaxing the longer he didn’t pull out a dagger and stab her. I’m sitting and chatting with a video game character… It was truly an out of body experience. Next onto her tray white seashells appeared along with a small container of mixed paints. He hesitated at her side, brushes arranged neatly. “You don’t have to do anything with these if you don’t want but I did want to bring them to you. If it would help-.”

Christine stared as Rafayel cut himself off, something briefly vulnerable in the lines of his shoulders. He was sharing Lemurian traditions with her, it was… really kind. She sniffed hard, thoughts of her family once more at the forefront of her mind. There was no funeral to be had for them. The two of them were still safe, at home. It was her they would be mourning, her they would light candles for and plant a tree for in the forest. In a daze she slowly shifted one of the seashells on the tray, energy bubbling and frothing under her skin. “Please… I think… I’d really like that.”

He looked relieved, popping up abruptly from the chair and chattering. “You got it! Let me go bug the nurses for a cup of water, I’ll be right back!”

Alone with her new plushie and the seashells she sighed deeply. “I really am here…” Acceptance settled into her bones as she opened the container and the smell of paints wafted through the room, flipping the shells she gently ran her fingers across their smooth interior. At last she allowed some of her grief to sink through her chest, eyes sliding closed and scrunching together. For many people, this would be the height of fantasy, a release from their reality and the monotony of daily life. For Christine it was something of a nightmare. A life she had been building cut violently short and transposed instead to a world that had once been her source of comfort. What would she do now?

She cried quietly at the thought, clutching the plushie and feeling the texture of the shells, inhaling the scent of paint and tasting the lingering remnants of soup on her tongue. She hadn’t gotten this far in life just to be someone who gave up when life threw its hurdles. It would be hard. It would be fucking scary but she would get through this. The thought became a mantra as her hands tightened, breathing deepening.

A hand, gentle where it smoothed over hers on the shells. It shocked her, eyes snapping open and body jerking as Rafayel stood hesitantly by her side. He cut a sharp silhouette as he leaned closer to her face, his other hand reaching for her cheek. Fear, it arced through her like lightning, he was too close!!! She wrenched back hard, nearly upending the tray as she scrambled back from his touch like he had burned her.

“Don’t!” her voice was vehement as she avoided him.

He flinched like she had slapped him, hands retracting so fast they became a blur. “Sorry!” He looked shocked at her move before his face smoothed over. “I guess it would be really weird to have some guy you don’t remember all that well touch you so casually… sorry cutie. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She shuddered and looked away, counting her breaths and avoiding his eyes. This. This reaction was exactly why she was the worst person to be dropped into this world. Girding herself she forced a smile. “No, sorry you just… really startled me.” Desperate to change the subject she carefully placed the shells back on the tray and gestured for him to come closer even as her body screamed at her to push him away. “Can you teach me more about your traditions? I'd like to do this properly.”

Rafayel hesitated, she prayed in the recesses of her mind that he wouldn't question, would just… sit and attribute her jumpiness to memory loss and grief. It felt like he was trying to peer into the depths of her soul and pass judgement. Perhaps this would be the thing that would tell him that she was not his beloved bride? Christine tensed at the thought, hands fisting on the table with nerves.

After what felt like an eternity he simply shrugged and sat, distance now maintained between them as he spoke carefully. “You don't have to do it my way Miss Bodyguard. It’s about expressing what you want to say about your family. What thoughts you hope to send to wherever they are.”

Grateful that he was letting it go she dipped her head and focused. “Will you paint one with me?” Her gaze flicked to his face, highlighted by the light of the sun through the window, casting him into truly spectacular relief. He really was beautiful.

He snorted lightly and smiled. “Of course.”

She settled into it then, painting, of all things, with Rafayel. It was an out of body experience. The rasp of their brushes, the low thrum of his voice when they occasionally spoke. It was honestly… comforting, so similar to the game quality time feature that when she glanced up and caught him staring at her she simply smiled in response. It relaxed her, gave her peace, a release from the constant burgeoning anxiety of the last day.

Time flew like that, the sun slowly setting as she painted the first shell in vibrant greens and blues, memories of the last time she had visited her grandma's house and seen her brother vented onto the surface. On the second she thought of MC, of the life she had stolen. On that one she painted for Caleb, for Josephine and for the others. Purples and oranges, reds and blues, A star, a snowflake, fire, energy and gravity. In the centre was a single unicorn, a symbol of the hunter whose life she was now living. As she finished Chiristine stared, heart heavy and aching. Quietly she whispered under her breath. “I'm so sorry.”

“Hm?” Rafayel shifted, jolting her from her reverie. She had forgotten he wasn’t just a screen in the game for a moment. She hunched as he peered over her shoulder. “That's an interesting design choice…”

He was curious, she could see it in the tilt of his eyebrows and the lean of his body. But this… this was just for her and for MC.

With a gentle smile she shrugged, batting a finger beneath her eye to catch the tear that had beaded there. “Thanks.” Curious she glanced down at his shell, breath catching at the stunning mix of colours swirling and contouring each aspect of it. “Good god, did we even use the same paints?!” His talents had not been exaggerated in game.

He chuckled lowly and shrugged, a faraway cast to his gaze. “Practice makes perfect.”

Her heart stopped, the double layer of his meaning not lost on her. Slowly her eyes drifted back to his shell, fingers tightening around her paintbrush. Had he painted these for all the Lemurians he had lost? It wasn't her place to ask. Wasn't something she should even know.

She was saved from responding by the sound of the door opening, Zayne standing on the threshold with an expression carved from stone. “My apologies Mr. Qi, but visiting hours are over and it's time for Ms. Termine's medical evaluation.” Inwardly she frowned at the sight of him. Surely a nurse should be the one to…?

“Has it been that long already?” Rafayel affected a pout and heaved a deep sigh, straightening his back with a long stretch. He turned to her then, capping the paints and grabbing the water. “Well, you heard the man cutie, time for me to make my exit, yeah? Text me when you get out of here okay?” As she nodded he stood, setting the apple he had brought on her tray and gently tapping the drying seashells. “Want me to keep these safe until we can return them to the sea?”

“Oh, yes please.”

He smiled again, gentle and warm. Carefully he folded the shells into a case he'd had hidden in the bottom of one of the bags before turning back to her, ignoring the burn of Zayne's stare as he abruptly leaned closer. Violently she fought the urge to flinch but she failed, cringing just slightly at his proximity. He didn't hesitate though, patting Artsy Birb and tilting his head in faint amusement. There was something, knowing in his gaze as he judged her reaction. “Until then Miss Bodyguard…” His eyes lingered for a moment, her heart racing at his scrutiny before with a little nod and a wink he bustled out of the room.

At his departure she slowly let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, shoulders deflating and stress bleeding. It felt like she had passed a veritable gauntlet.

“Did you have fun?”

She snapped upright and flushed, Zayne now standing by her bed. He was staring at the plushie in her arms with a blank expression, fingers clasping a stethoscope and clipboard tightly. The flex of the tendons in his hand was the only betrayal of his calm. Christine flinched internally at the sight and forced a smile. “Yes. He was sharing his family tradition about celebrating the life and death of loved ones.” She picked at the paint on her fingers and shrugged. “It was very kind of him.”

Zayne let out a soft hum, encouraging her to sit up and sliding into the chair Rafayel had vacated. “I wasn't aware you and a famous artist were so well acquainted."

She blinked and gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah me neither.”

That seemed to release him from whatever thoughts were corralling his mind, the faintest of smirks curling at the corner of his lips. “Indeed.” He scooted closer on the chair and gestured for her to come closer. “Your body please, I need to listen to your heart.”

What a way to phrase that. She blushed against her will at the sound of his voice saying those words and scooted closer, ignoring the beat of her heart and focusing firmly above his head. He ran her through her medical checks, asking questions and checking her vitals. At the end he slid a candy from his pocket and placed it on her tray as he stood, missing the amused crease to her lips as he resettled his pen in his pocket.

“Dinner will be in a few minutes, please make sure to eat carefully this time.”

“Of course.”

He paused then, hand tapping against his thigh once, a staccato beat that belayed his affected calm. She waited patiently as he stared down at her. At last he spoke. “For your discharge, do you have a way to get home?”

Immediately she paled. Home? Christine had no idea where MC's apartment even was!! He must have understood, head dipping. “Do you have anyone who could come and pick you up?”

Slowly she shook her head, fingers clenching tightly into fists. Sure, would Rafayel come grab her? Yes. Did he probably know exactly where she lived? Also yes. But despite their little art bonding session she felt uneasy at the idea. MC and Rafayel hadn't been that close. Not yet. She was practically certain of it, and Rafayel… well… the longer she spent in his presence the more likely he would realize something was wrong.

Zayne sighed softly and then nodded to himself. “Like I said before, I'll discharge you within the next few days, I can take you home then if you'd like?” She blew out a relieved breath as he continued to speak. “Addtionally, please make a list of things you're unsure about. I should be able to help you get back up to speed on day to day life.”

Bless this man. “Thank you Zayne, I really appreciate it.”

A simple incline of his head in response and he was gone, the room empty once more.

The evening passed that way, dinner delivered and eaten, phone unlocked and rifled through. Christine sifted through the images on MC's gallery and the notes in her apps. She responded to Tara, Captain Jenna and Gideon, taking their well wishes with a guilt heavy stomach. All of it culminated into a picture that disturbed her. Alone. Had MC really been so alone?! She sat with the thought as the lights dimmed and Yvonne helped her hobble to the bathroom. Contemplated it as she laid in bed and willed sleep to come.

Into that half awake/half asleep state she tossed and turned, time ticking by like molasses. So loud was the buzzing of her thoughts she almost missed it, the sound of a footstep where there should be none. Immediately her body stiffened. Someone's here… Feigning sleep she kept her eyes tightly shut as whoever was in the room with her slowly approached the bed. They were quiet, but heavy, so much so they couldn't completely mask the ruffle of their clothes.

Christine could feel their presence as they hovered over her, scanning her from head to toe. The person did nothing. It was uncomfortable… It was deeply disturbing. Unable to take it she pretended to shift, Artsy Birb brought up to her face as she buried herself into it. There, in the shadow of its plush and her hair did she just barely squint her eyes open.

Dark clothes and polished shoes, a masculine hand with long fingers. In the reflection on the glass of the window she could see more of his silhouette, tall and broad shouldered. But what arrested her attention was his hair, it was pale, nearly white.

Her head buzzed, dizzying thoughts colliding. Was this Xavier? No, he had no reason to be here… no reason to even think to check on MC. At this point in the story he was still in full on avoidance mode. A new thought settled, terrible and dreaded in her chest. Sylus…?

Panic crawled through her veins at the thought. MC and his souls were bound together, truly and utterly entwined with a depth that was dizzying. He must have felt it, must have known the second MC died and Christine took her place. She wanted to throw up, fear carving her body to stone. What would he do to her? She shook at the thought, uncontrollable trembles arcing through her limbs. She had liked Sylus as a character so much. He had grown and changed from that first terrible meeting into someone who was both soft and fierce, vulnerable and strong. Yet that was only for MC. He'd truly end her in a second if he thought it would bring his soulmate back.

Movement, it had her fingers tightening on Artsy Birb almost desperately. He was getting closer, towering and terrifying. She closed her eyes and waited, breath catching, body chilled. The rasping sound of fabric was confusing, the feel of it shifting even more so until she realized he was pulling the blanket up and over her, settling it high on her shoulder from where she had kicked it to her waist. What…?

A sigh above her head and the rustle of clothing and then… nothing. He was gone. Christine blew out a desperate breath and clung to the plushie for all she was worth, ignoring the sting of her hands. Truly… she was truly here… Someone like her, a silly app developer turned Deepspace Hunter, a normal woman transposed into the hero of an otome game. A woman who, unlike most, had no desire to be in this world at all.

She sniffed quietly and hid her head in the blanket. I am so royally screwed…

Chapter Text

The day of her discharge came with surprising speed. Medical tests and checkups giving way to physiotherapy instructions and an information packet from the Hunter's Association. The previous days had thankfully passed uneventfully. Sylus didn't come back as far as Christine could tell and Rafayel had contented himself by texting her a picture of their seashells and the view outside his window at sunrise. The rich bastard. Spectacular didn’t even begin to describe it.

It was also during this time that she learned Linkon had similar healthcare to Canada, something that made Christine nearly cry. Thank fucking God it's pretty much universal! She didn't even want to contemplate how much a private room would cost otherwise.

Zayne was an occasional figure, interrupting the monotony of her day to check in and evaluate her carefully. On one such visit she'd handed him her list of “I don’t know’s” just as he handed her a bag of clothes in return. She’d watched the cast of his eyes as he read it through, nervous, embarrassed, wondering once more if he would notice her… differentness. She’d had nightmares the day before. Terrible ones of ice, cold and unforgiving plunging through her chest as hazel eyes stared at her accusingly. Upon waking with tears in her eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if both her and MC’s body remembered death. It had felt… too real.

To distract herself Christine had rifled through the too big, newly purchased sweat pants and shirts with profuse thanks. He hadn’t gotten her size, and indeed, the colours were so plain they were practically funeral attire, but, for some reason those quirks made her feel demonstrably better about everything. His expression, akin to her having fed him a carrot, was hilarious, emerging when she had promised to pay him back. Who knew so much insult could be communicated in a single raised eyebrow?

With list in hand Zayne had pulled off his glasses and sighed quietly, interrupting her happy perusal. “Some of these you'll have to go to the physical location for. I won't be able to recover your banking password or get you your citizen ID number.” He had paused and then gently lowered the note back to her hand as she had frowned with worry. “For the rest however, it’s all very doable. Think about it as a re-introduction to life in Linkon.”

Grateful she had smiled, promising quietly to be ready for her discharge the following day. And thus that time arrived. Her plushie was packed in a bag along with the box Zayne had given her and her new clothes, crutches shoved under her arms even as her burnt hands screamed in protest. Christine waited quietly at the hospital entrance while Zayne brought his car around and saw for the first time Linkon City.

No art could do it justice. The skyline was truly dizzying in its towering silhouette. The neon lights, the floating otto's, the hum of protocore technology. It was terrifying. It was also humid which for some reason had never occurred to her. She'd been hit by a truck in August but it was early February here. Christine let out a little snort and huffed, watching in amusement as people moved around her bundled like burritos. Sure it was cool and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground but that was it. All the roads were cleaned! There was no ice in sight! And! Her face and lungs didn't hurt simply by existing outside?! How could this even be considered February?! Inwardly she chuckled even as her heart ached. It was truly the favourite pastime of anyone from a cold climate to make fun of those who lived in more temperate areas. As if in retaliation the wind blew, forcing a shiver through her whole body.

She was broken from her thoughts as a black car stopped before her. Zayne emerged, his silhouette striking against the sun. Gently, he helped her into the interior, settling her in her seat and shutting the door before making his way over to the driver's side. She shifted nervously, glancing at how expensive the whole thing looked with trepidation. It also smelt… really nice. Christine sat with her hands folded in her lap, bag clutched, nerves high.

As he settled she forced herself to smile. “Thank you again for doing all of this.”

A low hum was his answer as he did his seatbelt and turned ever so slightly to meet her eyes. “Of course.” She smiled but he didn’t make any move to put the car in drive, those hazel eyes completely arresting her. Nerves grew as they sat, her fingers clenching together. This is like a terrible uber ride! Oh my god please say something or at least please put on some music.

Whatever debate happening in his head seemed to end as he glanced down to his coat and dug through his pockets. Hesitantly he pulled out a familiar silver necklace and dog tag, holding it out to her with a steady hand. “You were holding this when you were brought into the ER. I… took it before the police could confiscate it, I’m sorry for not giving it to you earlier.”

She blinked, staring at its burnt surface and the carved “When U Come Back” with wide eyes. “Oh, this is Caleb’s…” She breathed quietly as he dropped it into her open palm. “Did the police take everything else?”

He nodded, watching her carefully. “It was considered a criminal investigation… To be frank, the Deepspace Aviation Administration took over early on and marked nearly everything as classified. They only released your phone and Hunter’s Watch since they were technically association property.”

Absolute bastards… The thought settled as she stared at the apple charm. For MC and Caleb, this necklace was something deeply important. Christine held it to the light and caught the reflection of her face on its surface, heart aching. She hadn’t actually played Homecoming Wings yet, delaying diving back into the main story as her life had gone haywire, a cross country move and a new job, both crushing her in their demands. Even still, despite not really knowing how or when it would happen, she did know Caleb was alive and she had pulled some of his cards. To that end, she would honor the woman whose life she was now living. The one who had loved him dearly. I’ll keep this safe for you both… Her bandaged hands were clumsy as she attempted to wrestle it over her head.

“Allow me.”

With a nod she gave it to him, shifting her hair to the side as his fingers brushed the nape of her neck, hackles raised at how vulnerable it felt. She relaxed as the weight of the necklace settled against her chest, staring down at it once more and breathing slowly. “Thank you Zayne.”

He nodded, expression blank and shifted the car into drive.

The journey through Linkon was surprisingly relaxing. Her apartment was close to both Akso and the Hunters Association, however, traffic in such a dense city was no joke. Continually, she stared around in awe, vaguely feeling Zayne’s eyes as she pressed her face to the window. Taking note he quietly pointed out various landmarks like Azure Square and the arcade, answering each of her excited questions calmly.

Soon, they pulled up to a familiar building, Zayne settling them in the guest parking spot and quickly jumping out of the car. He was by her side, opening the door before she even had the chance to finish wrestling off the seatbelt. With dread she grabbed the crutches, handing off her bag to him while he watched her hobble in concern. She could see it in his face. He was battling the offer to carry her but no way in hell was she letting him do that. No one had carried Christine since she was a toddler and the thought of breaking that streak now made her skin break out in hives.

Thankfully he decided to just linger by her side, hand hovering near her back as they slowly made their way up to the complex. At the entrance they both stood, that feeling of unreality permeating once more as she eyeballed the balconies and windows that she’d only ever seen as a render. “Zayne, is this… a good neighbourhood?” Am I gonna get mugged if I go to a corner store?

He took her question in stride, tugging her keys from her bag and pressing the fob to the door. “I believe so. Most of the less savory elements of Linkon tend to congregate near the edge of the No Hunt Zones or the N109 Zone.” He stopped as the door beeped, pulling it open and ushering her through. “However, I would exercise caution if you feel the need to go for a run after midnight.”

“Noted.” The elevator was ridiculously clean and smooth, a good sign. As she waited for it to take them to her floor she spoke again. “Have I brought you here before?” Honestly, the not knowing of where her relationship supposedly sat with all these guys was giving her anxiety. Yet given that Xavier hadn’t texted her and the sheer awkwardness from Zayne, she was pretty sure this was very early days.

“No… we had only just recently reconnected.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as the tips of his ears flushed. Hmmm… With a ding they spilled out into the hallway and to her apartment door.

The interior of it was as familiar as it was strange. Like the ghost of something half remembered. She stared around at its warm colours and sleek lines, furniture that looked like it had been plucked from IKEA and artfully staged. It felt dreadfully empty. Christine lingered on the threshold, key in hand while Zayne stood behind her, unaware of the way he was staring at her quietly. It was only when he cleared his throat that she jolted, walking further into the interior.

Immediately her nose scrunched, the scent of vanilla, rich and heady, permeating the space. She had always hated food smelling air fresheners. He followed her sedately as she toed off her shoes and stared around nervously, hands wringing. God but it was awful being in a space that was not hers. First stop? The kitchen.

The fridge was depressingly empty, the shelves? Equally so. She opened each cabinet while Zayne watched from the living room, increasingly agitated at just how bare everything was. Why did she think MC would be the sort of girl to have stuff everywhere? Or at least, more than two sets of plates. Girl really was just like me, what the hell…? “Hey, are there any boxes you see anywhere? Things to unpack?”

Hazel eyes flashed in the darkness. “Would you like me to search?”

She stared back at him helplessly. “Listen, as far as I’m concerned this is a stranger's place to both of us. I feel like such a voyeur, it’s crazy. Help. Please?”

He hummed lowly and finally moved into the room, looking around curiously. “None of this seems familiar?”

She snorted and pulled out the cutlery with a frown. “Oh sure, but like a movie set does, if that makes any sense? It’s like… ” she paused, tapping her hand against the counter in agitation. “Imagine you had seen a picture of somewhere, over and over. You’d be like, “hey! I recognize that!”, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours right?”

He tilted his head as she pulled out the plates and pots next, nodding. “Yes I can imagine the feeling is quite… odd.”

“That’s an understatement.” She stopped, frowning as he just stood there. “So… uh… box search?”

That seemed to snap him out of whatever he had been thinking as with an incline of his head he disappeared behind the counter, moving hesitantly around the space. “What are you hoping to find in this mysterious box?”

She shrugged helplessly and promptly began to re-arranged the location of all the items. It was easy with how depressingly little there was. “Honestly, I don’t even know. Just… something.” Something that proved that MC had been here, anything of the woman who had lived and died. It was scary how much Christine didn’t feel her presence.

The rest of the house tour continued like that. The apartment was small, only a single bedroom and bathroom, though each room was larger than one would expect for a first time renter. She made a mental list as they moved, spices and items to buy, things that would make this place feel just a little less foreign. Of course that all depended on her finances.

All the rooms were as sterile as the last, the only signs of MC’s personality being the photo of her and Caleb on her nightstand, and another of the two of them along with a woman who must be Jospehine. She’d been in the process of framing her degree, the frame and paper spilled out on top of the desk next to a silly keychain of an airplane. Even the bed spread was sterilely artistic. She sat on it, resting her crutches as Zayne stood in the doorway, glancing from the picture to the three plushies sitting on her shelf. Slowly he moved, grabbing Artsy Birb and placing it along with the others. Christine eyeballed the pink unicorn in particular, it seemed all the first bond stories had happened with the original three. The red apple was definitely Caleb's in that case... The last one however… “You got that for me, right?” It was hard to be sure, but she was nearly positive Zayne was the first person MC went to the arcade with.

Zayne nodded slowly, eyes trained on the little lamb and apple plushies for a moment longer before drifting to her. Silence. He does not make this easy, MC was a stronger woman than me, good god. She cleared her throat and shifted gingerly, gazing around again as that terrible feeling of stepping into someone else’s territory rattled around in her chest.

“What do you think of it?”

“Huh?” He speaks!

Zayne shook his head and sighed, uncrossing his arms and moving into the bedroom proper. “Your apartment. How are you feeling about it now that you’ve seen the whole thing? Do you like it?”

She picked at her bandages and fidgeted again. Slowly she slid her eyes closed, the sound of his breathing suddenly reassuring instead of awkward. “To be honest? No…” She sniffed quietly and forced out a huff. “No I… I don’t.” She scrunched her face tightly, hands knotting desperately. “ I don’t like how it smells or how it’s decorated. I feel like whoever was living here was a ghost and it makes my skin crawl. It’s like… like a stranger lived here and I’m taking over their life and-” she cut herself off and forced herself to relax, counting each inhale of air in her head slowly. “It’s weird.”

A low hum, the sound of shifting clothes. “I can imagine... This place is yours, however, despite how strange it must feel. We can always go tomorrow and see about getting some things that would make it feel more acceptable.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off, running through her mental exercises once more. Zayne seemed content to let her sit in silence, his breathing a steady metronome that lulled her almost meditatively.

Christine must have started to fall asleep, the bed, soft and comforting under her body as she tipped onto her side, exhaustion claiming her. A touch, gentle and fleeting to her brow, chilled and heated… it burned. Her eyes snapped open, the large shadow looming over her immediately making her heart rate skyrocket in blinding terror. No! It was a cry to the universe as she scrambled away as fast as she could, memories clamoring and burgeoning, too close to the surface and pressing. Strong hands and a big body, a low voice and hot breath - never again!! “Don’t-!!” She choked, folding in on herself protectively.

The figure above her immediately backed off, flinching as if she had attacked it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

She recognized the voice almost instinctively, hours of comfort at its behest making her gasp once, twice, a deep heaving breath punching through stressed lungs. “Z-zayne..?”

“Yes.”

She peered over her shoulder as tears filled her eyes, staring at him where he was now lit by the light through the window. He looked rattled, hands clenched together tightly and body hunching, like he was trying to make himself look as small and non threatening as possible.

“My apologies, you had hair in your mouth and I-”

She swiftly cut him off, cheeks heating and embarrassment flooding even as tears threatened to drip down her face in a humiliating trail. “No, no I’m sorry… I j-just- you just-!!” She couldn’t… no… wouldn’t explain, shaking her head roughly and pushing herself upright. Noise, everything was white noise. He was saying something but it didn’t register, not until his silhouette moved, leaving the room and disappearing out into the hallway. She sat still for a moment more, fists clenched tightly until anxious energy abruptly jittered through her entire body. Up! She had to get up! The sight of the stranger in the bedroom mirror made something crack in her chest. She seized the bedspread and threw it over it, unable to bear the scared woman staring back at her.

Crutches in her hands she staggered back out into the main area, eyes searching and seeking, but Zayne was gone, the place where his shoes had been on the rack, empty. Christine felt her eyes burn at the sight. Can’t blame the guy… Of any and anyone, the worst person ever to arrive in an otome game was someone like her. Broken, she had been broken beyond repair years ago. Terrifying, it was so fucking terrifying even when nothing was happening! She hobbled into the kitchen, breath hitching as she stared around once more. Desperation, it clawed in her belly and choked her. It was consuming, unstoppable… Why couldn’t she have just had all her memories wiped? Why did she have to remember her old life?

The knife block shined where it rested, cluttered on the counter where everything else was laid out. Christine did not have a death wish. Even here, in this strange world, she was grateful to be alive. But… wouldn’t it be easier if she didn’t have to remember everything? She approached the counter slowly, jaw clenching tightly. The lore said that MC would be resurrected if she died from bodily injury, it’s what the researchers at that stupid facility had tested over and over again, yet each time, she had lost her memories. Why Christine had been transposed into MC’s body was a mystery but… surely… surely, it would wipe her memories?

She wasn’t even aware of it, out of body dissociation strong as she slowly pulled back the paring knife, holding the heft of it in her hands. Reasoning and logic were flying out the window at the allure of a break, a cessation of the pain she had been ignoring for the past 3 days and truthfully, for even longer. Zayne would probably be back in the morning and by then? She’d be reset and she wouldn’t have to remember everything from her old life. If she had to be stuck here? So be it, but she couldn’t do it like this. Another, quiet part of her whispered insidiously. They deserve better….

Christine pressed the blade to her skin with a trembling hand, heart racing. What if I’m wrong and this just kills me…? She stopped, clamping her jaw tightly. I don’t want to die… I just want to forget… A gasp tore from her throat as she stayed there in indecision, blood beading on her wrist.

“I’m back, I grabbed my-”

Her head jerked up, eyes colliding with Zayne’s as he opened the door, bag in hand. Fuck he didn’t leave. She didn’t even register him moving until he was inches from her. He threw the knife block into the ceiling and froze it there with a rattling thud as he vaulted the counter and seized her wrists in a terrifyingly ice grip. Cold, he was so cold where his breath punched between them, the white fog of it stark in the apartment. He overbalanced her, momentum sending them both to the floor as her ankle gave out and they tumbled. They landed with a thud, his weight knocking all the breath from her lungs as he squeezed the hand holding the knife and pinned it.

“Let go.”

Big hands and a big body, a low voice and a heavy weight. No!!! She fought him unthinkingly, muscles bunching and seizing as she gasped beneath him. Rational thought was gone. Too close! No! Get off me, get off me! She didn’t make a sound besides large heaving gasps of air as his fingers pried at hers around the knife, his knee pinning her free hand as it came up to shove at his chest.

Footsteps at the entrance of the door, the two of them both deaf to it until a new voice cut through their struggle. Her head just barely tilted, grey slippers and blue sweatpants peeking out through the gap by the counter. “Hey neighbour I heard a bang and-” Recongition, the zap of it snapped her out of her daze, eyes widening in terror as a flash of light erupted, a blade tip now at the slippers edge.

“No!” She released the knife in a panic as light flared, seizing Zayne around the back and dragging him down on top of her. With a burst of adrenaline she rolled them. Christine scrambled, covered his head and chest desperately, protectively. Oh god what have I done!! Why did I almost do that?! “Don’t hurt him!!”

Everything stilled, the deep heave of her breath and Zayne’s as he lay beneath her, head pressed to her clavicle. Slowly she turned her head, the tip of that blade inches from her eyeline. Up and up she looked, sweatpants and a white sweater, higher and higher until blue eyes filled her vision. Xavier was standing in the kitchen, face dangerously blank as he watched her half-smother Zayne in a protective hunch.

“Xavi-”

It was her blood dripping onto Zayne’s face that seemed to spur the man beneath her. He sat up, forcing her to slide off his lap and onto the floor as he quickly grabbed a clean dishcloth from the still open drawer and applied it to her wrist with punishing pressure. His breath was heaving, ice, stark where she could see it crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks.

Her attention snapped to him as her mouth gaped in shock at the garish sight of red on pale skin. “Oh god, Zayne, I’m sorry-” The ice on him cracked, silencing her as she watched it consume him with terrifying speed. The game hadn't prepared her for how it sounded, how it felt. It had to be painful. Blue and black bleeding through his skin, punishing and unstoppable but he didn’t flinch, just applied more pressure to her wrist. “Wait, Zayne, your evol-”

He cut her off viciously, voice a hiss. “What exactly do you think you were doing?!”

Xavier shifted in her periphery while embarrassment stung her cheeks and ears, his lightblade dissolving in a soft burst of light. Zayne was either ignorant or uncaring of the stranger in her apartment as his hazel eyes bored into her own with hair raising intensity. Angry… he was so angry. It chilled her more than the ice coating his hands. “I-” The words died on her tongue. None of what she said would make sense anyway.

“Do you need to be checked into Akso’s emergency psychiatric department?”

“No!” She shook her head even as her chest rattled. “No, I swear I wasn’t going to-”

He cut her off again. “Is this what you think your family would want?!”

Those words were like a slap. As much as he meant Caleb and Jospehine, Christine's mind slipped to her family, the two people who had supported her through absolutely everything in her life. The swell of rage was welcome, a breath of fresh air from the constant turbulence of the last few days. “How dare you say that.” It was her turn to be pissed, jaw setting as she glared right back at him. “That was beneath you.”

It flickered there in his eyes, acknowledgment, pain, fear.

They were in a stalemate, chests heaving and adrenaline high. Into that state Xavier spoke softly. “Where is your medical kit?”

The reassertion of his presence had her rage breaking, a cold sweat quickly beading instead. This was the worst way in the world to be introduced to one of the love interests. She stuttered, blinking as he breathed above her, his entire countenance suddenly coming into shocking relief. She could barely take him in as Zayne replied in her stead.

“It’s in the bag I dropped by the door.”

The soft dip of ashy hair, the smell of ozone and something like cedar, Xavier stepped away, the light sound of his slippers and the front door closing breaking the tension in stages. It jolted her, gaze snapping back to the man she was sitting by. With clear eyes she regarded him.

“Zayne… your evol.” She’d made him lose control. She’d… hurt him. It was shocking, a vicious sort of grounding that made her quake. What the fuck was I thinking…? The blood on his face, her goddamn blood. Guilt, it was choking, cloying and vile. Christine swallowed hard as tears threatened. “I’m sorry.” I was being so stupid… She wrapped the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and swiped at his face unthinkingly, smearing her blood off his cheekbone as she stared at him in a daze. “I really wasn't trying to kill myself.”

Hazel eyes met hers, a crack finally forming in his stoic demeanor. “Then what were you trying to do?” Quietly, a slump to his shoulders. “What would have happened if I had left…?”

She cut him off with a shake of her head as Xavier returned, bag in hand and crouching by them both. Christine spared him a glance, embarrassed once more to be meeting him this way. There was exhaustion painted onto his face and in the bags under his eyes, cuts to his face and hands. They were stark against the washed out colour of his skin. He looks sick… He dug through the contents of the bag with sure hands despite it all.

He looked as disturbingly real as the other two. It made her brain positively itch. That was, until their eyes met. Unthinkingly she snapped her gaze away and down onto the floor, barely aware as Zayne shifted and brought her wrist forward into the light between him and Xavier. Like with the other two, seeing Xavier was also shockingly uncanny. His face was smooth and yet on closer inspection she could see the finest of lines around his eyes and mouth, the barest betrayal of his true age. He had calluses on his hands and faint scars on his fingers, both noticeable against her hands as he held her wrist for Zayne to clean. His fingers are warm…

Privately, in the back of her mind, she was a little thrilled. If her time here progressed even sort of like it did in game he would be her hunter partner. Though, in her current state, that was a fantasy. More akin to a child's dream of becoming an astronaut. The best thing he could do was recommend her for desk work so she never had to fight a wanderer ever. The thought was so ludicrous she huffed to herself outloud.

All that aside, another aspect tickled. Just like with Rafayel and Zayne, part of her absolutely quaked to be in his presence. As far as she knew, Xavier had no reason to suspect that she was not who she said she was. It would be fine to hopefully get his help when it came to work and maybe even become friends if the universe was kind. Though… given how she had just treated the first one she had attempted to make in this world… With a frown she turned to glance down as Zayne removed the towel from her wrist and inspected the thin cut there.

He sighed deeply, relieved that she hadn’t managed to do worse to herself, shoulders drooping in her periphery. Xavier meanwhile was staring at her. She could feel it, her cheeks heating at his unwavering regard. Please look somewhere else, please look somewhere else. God was cruel. She quickly wiped at her cheeks with her bandage wrapped hand and settled awkwardly on the floor with her throbbing ankle stretched out.

She couldn’t take it anymore. With a stiff smile she met Xavier’s eyes as Zayne dabbed disinfectant on her wound. “Hello Xavier. What are you doing here?”

Christine could feel Zayne’s eyes on her, assessing, flicking to the man at her side. Xavier barely seemed to move, those blue eyes so intense she felt like she was going to combust. “I live above you. I suppose… it’s nice to meet you, neighbour.” He flicked a glance to the knife block frozen to her ceiling and then to Zayne, a flash of something passing his expression.

“Ah… haha…” Fucking hell….

He continued speaking. “Where have you been?”

Were they that good of friends? “Uh… the hospital. I got blown up.”

He frowned, body tensing subtly. “When?”

“About a week ago…?” She forced another smile as Zayne carefully applied antibiotic ointment, tension mounting swiftly. Christine mentally quaked. Why did this feel so… tumultious? Was Xavier mad? Was he sad?! She stared, smile fixed while he watched her in return, equally blank.

Suddenly he moved, breaking her gaze and drooping his eyes to the top of Zayne’s head. “You didn’t think to tell me you were in the hospital?”

Fucking shit!!! Were they friends?! “Uh, ah… you see…”

“She has quite a severe case of amnesia.” Thank you Zayne! The doctor in question applied a bandage to her wound and straightened, eyeing Xavier with a calm, assessing expression. “One can hardly be expected to remember everything after a traumatic incident, no?”

Xavier tilted his head slightly in response, eyebrows just barely lifting. “But she remembered you…?”

“Zayne.”

“Zayne.” Blue eyes, assessing and scanning. He was eying Zayne from the top of his hair down to his shoes, lingering on the traces of ice still visible on his hands. “Who are you, exactly?”

Christine sat and watched, rapt as the two of them sized each other up. It was so weird to hear them talking to each other, both of them concerned and stiff, both attempting to be polite.

“I could ask you the same, neighbour.”

Oooo. Alarmed, she laughed awkwardly. “Zayne is one of my oldest friends from childhood as well as a really great doctor. I’ve known him longer than anyone…” In this world at least, if the extra day in his presence counts… Xavier was staring at her again while she waited with baited breath for him to explain who he was to her! Instead he slowly nodded, glancing from her to the doctor and back, eyes dropping to her wrist and the frozen knife block on the ceiling. Fidgeting she cleared her throat quietly, snot still congesting from her stalled tears. “We work together… right?”

Blue again, completely stealing her attention as he nodded, hands tensing. “I’m your partner.”

Goddammit he WAS! She cringed, internally wailing as the main story flashed through her mind once more. Xavier and MC had worked together before she went back to the Bloomshore District. But… had they been officially partners at that point? Shit I really should have texted him then… “Oh uh… sorry then for uh… not messaging you.”

“It’s fine, I was in the No Hunt Zone so I wouldn’t have gotten it anyway.” Eyes on her wrist, she watched his fingers tense. “You seem to have a lot on your mind…” He glanced down at the bloody knife, the meaning clear.

She stared down at the bandages as all those terrible feelings of guilt swirled once more, the novelty of his presence abandoned as reality came crashing back. Outwardly she simply forced another smile, hands wringing together in the sleeves of her sweater. “Yes, I have a lot on my mind. As Zayne said, I have amnesia... I've forgotten a lot of things, not least of which is anything to do with being a hunter…” A deep breath, she paused, holding the air in her lungs as she forced herself to relax finger by finger. “As you can imagine that’s quite stressful.”

Christine trailed off as Xavier leaned forward, settling on his knees and regarding her assessingly. “So you don’t remember me at all?”

She shook her head. “No, I do! You got me a unicorn plushie right? And we were assigned to the No Hunt Zone together on our last mission?” He nodded, which was relieving. “I’m just missing everything else.”

He paused, blue eyes shadowed. “Then…with this… accident, you’ll need help retraining?”

A depressed little chuckle broke past her lips as her shoulders sagged. “Sure, you could say that.” Actually please let me work with Nero.

“Okay.” It seemed they had made plans, one’s she wasn’t actually privy to as Xavier nodded to himself with a faraway look in his eye. He turned to Zayne then, voice detached. “Are you going to take her to Akso?”

Quickly she shuddered. Christine had no idea if involuntary commitment was a thing here, no idea if Zayne could medically sign her off into a psychiatric ward without her consent or if Xavier could dump her on their doorstep with a note. I really didn’t think this through at all. She met Zayne’s eyes and clenched her jaw, hands fisting until they hurt.

He watched her in return, impossible to read. Finally he sighed, breaking the tension as he turned to Xavier. “I understand that you’re evidently her work partner and that you’re concerned. However, you weren’t present for her probationary physical assessment. Most hunter pairs take the test together when it comes to the combat portion. To my understanding that means your partner status was only changed within the last two to three weeks, correct?”

Xavier stiffened as Zayne spoke, frowning. “Yes…”

Zayne continued, voice cold. “Then, to be frank, none of this is your business. Thank you for your assistance earlier but it would be best that you leave now. The Hunter’s Association will receive a report if necessary and a plan can be made between Christine, you and your captain.”

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the full on professional mode on display, the hidden passive aggressiveness masquerading perfectly in work speech. Zayne was still pissed. She was positive now. And yet… he’s trying to protect me right now, isn’t he? It settled then as she watched Xavier’s calm facade chill. As far as Zayne knew, Xavier could report her to Captain Jenna, could mark her as unfit mentally for the job of a hunter. For Christine, that might actually be for the best, but for the friend that Zayne knew, that would be a catastrophic failure, an utter cessation of the dreams she had worked so hard for.

She compressed her lips and flicked her gaze between both men, hands picking nervously at her bandages. “About earlier…” It was awkward that neither man was saying anything. “It was a misunderstanding… I wasn’t going to, well, you know…”

Xavier turned to her then, expression intense. “Are you okay then?” He paused, eyeing Zayne. “Do you need someone to stay with you?”

Zayne stiffened fists tightening. For a moment she was confused but then it clicked. The scene Xavier had walked in on… from an outside perspective.. If she hadn't been trying to do what she had… She paled immediately, shaking her head violently. “No! No! I swear Zayne wasn’t-! He wasn’t-!”

The words stalled as the doctor interrupted her. “If she asks me to leave, I will. Your help is unnecessary.” Briskly he packed his medical case, the snap of its clasp loud in her apartment.

“She can tell me if my help is unnecessary.”

Uh-oh… “Ah… I really am okay. I swear…”

Xavier looked away from Zayne and focused on her, quietly he spoke, head dipping closer. “Are you sure? I can make him leave if you want.”

The thought of being alone immediately made her clammy. “N-no! Please don’t”

At her words his expression finally softened, a sigh slipping past his lips as his shoulders drooped.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry for disturbing your night Xavier, and honestly, I really do appreciate you rushing down here...” Shifting nervously she caught his eye. “I could use your help later though, if you’d be willing? This really is all just a big misunderstanding…”

He eyed her from head to toe, nodding. “Of course. I’ll come check on you tomorrow.” Tomorrow? She opened her mouth to protest but he was already standing, long strides taking him to the door to her apartment. There he stopped, blue eyes bright where he glared briefly at Zayne. “Please make sure to text me before you go to sleep and in the morning. I’ll worry otherwise.”

She nodded, mouth still open and words on her tongue but he was already out the front door, shutting it behind him with a click.

Christine blinked, staring off into space as adrenaline finally fled. What the hell was all that?! Zayne clearly agreed, slumping slightly against the kitchen cabinets and rubbing the bridge of his nose. She hunched, cowed, waiting to be dressed down like a child with their parent.

Instead Zayne sighed deeply, catching her gaze and holding it. Quietly he spoke. “Do you need to go to the emergency room? Please be honest with me, I would never forgive myself if-”

“No.” She interrupted him, staring down at her bandaged wrist in humiliation. “It was just a stupid moment of weakness, Zayne, I swear. Like an intrusive thought that I just… took too far.”

More quiet, the shift of his legs as he kicked off his shoes and shoved them out of the kitchen. The action was so human it jolted her. She was unprepared when he continued, body stiffening so hard it hurt. “Earlier in your bedroom, you had a panic attack when you saw me…” He shifted again and settled, trying to catch her eyes even as she refused, nausea suddenly raging. “It sent you into a dissociative episode, didn’t it? You didn’t recognize me when I grabbed you.”

Zayne really was too observant for his own good. She gave him a tight smile and shrugged. “Wouldn’t you be alarmed seeing the shadow of a man twice your size when you wake up?”

He studied her quietly, calculatingly. “Okay…”

She nearly collapsed in relief but he was already looking away, grabbing the knife from its place on the floor and climbing to his feet in one swift move. For a moment, he stared at the blade, then, while making eye contact he promptly froze it into a block of ice. She blinked, eyes blowing wide as he tossed it into the sink. It was the first time she had ever actually seen an evol in action. That was really goddamn cool…

Zayne must have taken her expression as a sign of her disbelief at his lack of trust. Evidently he didn’t care what she thought, bending at the waist to offer her his hand and patently ignoring his action with the knife. She paused, staring up the slope of his arm to his body, higher and higher until their eyes met. There, lit by the light of the setting suns he looked so achingly real, achingly human. There was still blood smeared on his face and drops of water along his cheeks. It made something click in her brain. The idea, the truth, that anything she did from now on would affect these men, destroy these men if she even attempted something so stupid ever again.

Resolved she made a quiet promise in her head, to herself and to MC. I’ll keep your body as safe as I can. I promise I won’t spit on the gift you’ve given me. That done she grabbed Zayne’s hand, mentally sealing the pact in her soul as he tugged her to her feet. There she swayed, steadied by his arm as he gathered her crutches and settled them under her arms.

“I had planned to go home tonight and return tomorrow to help you with your list, however…” he trailed off as he ushered her to the barstool and settled her there.

She smiled sardonically. “You don’t have to ask Zayne. I would actually prefer it if you did stay over…” And she would. All her fear of men aside, she would trust any of the LADs guys to be gentlemen if she asked for it, and the thought of being alone in this foreign place? Nope!

He nodded, hesitating by her side, fingers tensing. Taking pity on him she slowly reached out to pat his shoulder. It felt… incredibly awkward, him staring at her like she had grown a second head and her contemplating that this was the first time she had touched any of them with her full faculties engaged. He was so solid it was crazy! Thinking to break the tension her pat turned into a firmer push. “Do you spend every free moment you have in the gym?!” Immediately he sighed deeply, aggrieved. She chuckled, a new thought forming tentatively. “Hey Zayne?”

He peeked at her, wary, the look only increasing as she smiled. “Yes?”

“Can you help me get stronger? I’ll bug Xavier too so don’t worry, I’m not asking for that much more of your limited free time.”

He blinked and frowned, arms crossing almost defensively across his chest. “In what way?”

Christine shrugged, hand sliding off his shoulder to hold in front of her eyes. MC’s body was wiry but strong, the lean muscle of it had been obvious when she moved, seen in bathroom mirrors and embarrassed glances. The thought was not comforting. All her adult life, Christine had been… afraid. Afraid of people stronger than her, terrified of that moment when control was taken. In the kitchen, she hadn’t been able to budge Zayne. As much as he had been tackling her for her benefit, the sheer strength with which he had overwhelmed her had been shocking, like pushing against a building. It was... disquieting. If she was going to fight goddamn MONSTERS, get chased by EVER and who knows who the fuck else, she wasn’t going to be put into that position. Never again. Internally she re-affirmed her promise to MC and met his eyes.

“I want to be able to lift you over my head.” That was a semi realistic goal, right?

His expression was comical. Zayne’s hand skated down his chest, smoothing along his sternum in a move she had seen hundreds of times in the game. Clearly, he had been expecting something else.

She quirked her brow as she waited. “Hunters do rescue, right?” His nod had her pressing her bandaged hands together as determination swirled in her gut. “Then shouldn’t I be able to lift a grown man? How am I supposed to help people in evacuation zones?! Plus!” Now she was going in for the kill. “Excersize strengthens the heart, right? Two birds, one stone.”

He was pinching his brow, eyes closing. “Technique factors more into those sorts of situations than you would think… but yes, any and all exercise would benefit your heart. However, lifting someone twice your size over your head is perhaps a bit too lofty of a goal.” At her expectant gaze he sighed again, a nod, defeated as he shifted against the counter. “Very well. When you’re healed, we can discuss an appropriate workout plan about… reaching your goals.”

Christine mentally grinned but outwardly offered him a smile, something smug curling her lips. Cooperation secured, she sighed, dropping forward onto the counter as exhaustion reigned. Into that silence they stared at each other. She was studying him intently, settling quietly. He still had blood on his face, smeared like a bright splash of paint, and she regarded it sadly.

“I am sorry, about before…” She felt like she had to reassure him, promise him… soothe the fear she could see lurking quietly in his posture. “That was a really terrible thing to do and it won’t happen again. I promise.” Functionally, Zayne, this Zayne was a stranger, and yet the parasocial grip of the game she had played for a year couldn’t be denied. He was real here, worried, like a friend who had spawned before her eyes with his own anxieties and feelings. There was no right dialogue option, no perfect thing for her to say.

To her surprise he pulled out the seat next to her and sat, hands folding themselves neatly on the counter. He was fidgeting subtly, fingers flexing as he breathed slowly. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling… and I won’t pretend to guess or to know otherwise. You woke up three days ago and functionally lost your entire support network in an evening. Whether we still care about you or not, I can only surmise that it feels like strangers buzzing around you. You’ve been… hesitant, jumpy, whether with myself, the artist or your evident work partner.”

She blinked at his apt description, tears beading. Turning her head she hid her face in her arms and huffed into the counter. “Yeah that’s one way to look at it.”

His hand was warm where he carefully pressed it to her shoulder, grounding, firm. “However, I can only speak for myself but I am here. Please, lean on me before such thoughts come around again. And please, allow yourself to lean on others should you feel comfortable.”

“Promise.” She lifted one of her hands and wiggled it, face still turned away. Confused, hesitant he placed his palm in hers, jumping slightly as she twined their fingers together and firmly squeezed. “I promise, Zayne.”

Dropping her grip she sighed, face down and exhausted, flushing as her stomach rumbled loudly into the kitchen. The audacity on this body. How can you be hungry after all the shit you just did?! Raising her head she turned to Zayne sheepishly. “For your help, I’m going to feed you.” Phone pulled from her pocket she flinched at MC’s face before quickly scrolling to find the delivery app. Opened, she turned it to him, sliding the phone across the counter. “One request, can you explain what’s considered expensive and what isn’t?”

With his nod they sat, listening as he pointed out what average costs were, how to determine if a restaurant was using fake images, and which were reputable and not. Food ordered, they settled, Zayne disappearing briefly to wash his face before quickly returning to where he had left her on the couch. Yep, I definitely made him paranoid. She smiled a little sadly as she grabbed the notebook she had found and quietly wrote out everything he had told her.

They continued that way, food spread out on the counter and words spoken, lessons taught while she took notes and tried to understand this strange world she had found herself in. She blinked and frowned as she learned that Mandarin and English were the official languages, mouth full of noodles as she contemplated just how terrible her grasp of Mandarin was. Zayne caught her frown and tilted his head questioningly. With a swallow she offered him a hesitant smile. “Uh… how often do people speak Mandarin here? Is it as common as English?” Maybe this was a Quebec/rest of Canada situation? Dread settled as he quirked a brow. Oh no this is definitely more like a Switzerland sort of situation…

“It’s very common depending on where you go in the city. Most jobs require some working proficiency in both.”

Fuucccccckkkkk!!!!! Her despair must have been obvious as he just barely smiled. “I see Caleb and your Grandmother never managed to impress your studies on you, hm?”

If they were better friends she would have given him the finger but instead just settled on staring at him in despair. Taking pity on her he stood, walking to her lone bookshelf and returning, a bright pink workbook in hand. “The Hunter’s Association has language training as part of its repertoire, you were enrolled before your accident.” He handed her the book and leaned back on the bar stool. “I’m positive you will see results if you continue as you were before the explosion and be diligent in your studies."

Evening descended in that manner, lessons delivered and knowledge gained until at last the droop of her eyelids couldn’t be ignored. Zayne ushered her to her bedroom, stealing the extra blankets from her closet and returning to the couch. She dug through MC’s closet, unearthing a shirt and sweatpants that must have been Caleb's. Zayne had stared at them for a long time when she’d offered them before slowly nodding and disappearing into the bathroom. Awkwardly she texted Xavier a goodnight message, unsure how to interpret his thumbs up in response.

Silence settled over the apartment as Christine burrowed herself into MC’s bed. It was waayyy too quiet. She shuddered under the too light blankets, flinching at every creek and groan, her skin crawling as she smelt the detergent MC had picked. She missed the sounds of her home. Her shitty apartment with its terrible heating and clanking pipes. Everything in her felt awful now that she was alone in the room.

Eyes closed she counted, sleep fitful and fleeting. Seconds after closing her eyes she was jerking awake. Strong hands and a big body, the flair of headlights in the street. The panicked feeling of being trapped so strong she choked. I was so tired before! Why are you doing this to me, brain?!

With tears in her eyes she gasped desperately, reaching unthinkingly for her phone, typing in the wrong password and nearly throwing it at the sight of that shitty, default grey background. To be in the world of Love and Deepspace was to have that comfort taken away. All she wanted was that stupid sleep feature! Christine missed it, suddenly… ardently. The men who had been in her phone. Uncomplicated and utterly devoted. It had been fun. It had been nice. Reality was so much different… Reality meant expectations… Cold blue eyes and pained hazel ones, the feel of a blanket being raised over her shoulders and the sight of seashells painted. Awful… how awful! She was three out of five right now for face to face meetings. Perhaps it was because she knew. Knew about their affections, their devotion and their love… knew the lengths they would go to for MC. But for Christine, it felt like a noose, a chain, choking and strangling. How unfair to have her in MC’s place. Even more so, how cruel to be denied their happy endings with her entrance.

Sniffling quietly she gathered her comforter and pillow, Artsy Birb shoved under her arms along with her crutches as she slowly peeled the door open. Quietly she went to the livingroom, staring at the lump that was Zayne where he rested on the couch. Silently as she could she made her way to the space between the couch and the coffee table, laying out her blankets and pillow along its length before curling up on the rug. The floor was uncomfortable, digging into her still burned body viciously, but she… couldn’t be alone.

There in the living room she laid, Zayne above her, the sound of his breathing so incredibly comforting. Without thought her eyes drooped, sleeps swift wings coming at last to take her into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

The feeling of eyes on her had Christine blinking, morning light filtering weakly through the curtains. For a moment, disorientation reigned, frowning at the sight of dust under the couch along with a single forgotten wrapper from some sort of candy. That feeling of being watched persisted. Slowly she peeked upwards. Zayne was awake, hair tousled messily and head just barely peaking through the blankets that he’d pulled up and over his nose. It was an adorable look. They blinked at each other, the barest crease in his brow betraying his confusion. The morning felt hushed, sacred and Zayne, clearly feeling the same, spoke in a near whisper.

“Why are you on the floor…?”

She buried her face in her blankets, matching his countenance and settled. “The bed was too foreign.”

“So the floor was better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He huffed softly and seemed content to study her just as she was him. Questions burbbled, one in particular nagging. “Hey Zayne.”

“Yes?”

She hesitated, scooting closer to the couch and shifting her sore body. “Did we ever have a sleepover like this when we were kids?”

His eyes flashed as he blinked, a faraway look slowly taking over his face. Quietly he spoke. “Once…”

Christine smiled, staring up at him eagerly. At his continued silence she huffed. “Gonna share or what?”

That got a reaction out of him, a soft exhale that was the closest thing she had heard to a laugh from him this entire time. “There is little to share. You, Caleb and I slept in a tent in your grandma's backyard the summer before I left. We ate s'mores and told ghost stories.”

She smiled at the mental image, a chuckle on her tongue. “Bet the s'mores were your favourite part.”

He huffed, ears slowly tinting red. “How is it that you forget the most basic things and yet remember others so easily?”

Oops… “Well it just means I remember what's most important to me. My brain can't be bothered to hold onto information about banks and university loans…”

Zayne was quiet, something vulnerable lurking in his eyes as he watched her. “Is my love of sweets important to you?”

Double oops!!! She smiled sheepishly, face flushing and promptly rolled over, hiding from the intensity of his gaze like a woman possessed. No wonder MC had always covered his eyes in cards, good god could he make you feel stripped bare in seconds. “Of course… Zaynie, shouldn't we always remember our friends?” The nickname felt odd on her tongue but she threw it between them like a distraction, plucking at the slippers under the coffee table and inspecting them with a frown. She was deliberately avoiding him now, forcing a loud yawn and a stretch that had her wincing for real. It was the sound of her phone ringing that gave her a reprieve from his intensity. Christine wriggled out of her bundle and half army crawled to her phone, rattling away on top of the coffee table. The caller ID had her paling.

With a nervous breath she swiped across the answer button and slowly brought the phone to her ear. “Uhm… good morning?”

“Cutie!” Rafayel's voice was waayyy to jovial for first thing in the morning. She frowned as she listened to what was clearly the sound of the outdoors through his receiver. “Good first morning free from the hospital! How’d you sleep?”

“Good…?” She trailed off as a cacophony of rustling noises suddenly flooded through the receiver.

“Great! Glad to hear that!” A pause, a familiar beep, the outdoors now gone as a door slid closed. “Can you buzz me up?”

What the hell?! She jolted upright, eyes staring at her door in alarm. Wait! “Are you… here?”

“Duh!” She bristled slightly at his tone, blinking as he chirped, unaware. “You have no food right? You were in the hospital for a full week so you need breakfast and lunch. Aaaaannndddddd not to mention, I’m pretty sure you could use some coffee, yeah?”

Zayne was moving in her periphery, rolling onto his back and pulling out his own phone, glasses on his face as he answered whatever messages he had. She stared at him, fingers tensing as she responded to Rafayel. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to either of those but uh, I have a friend over right now-”

He cut her off, tone still bouncing. “Who do you take me for? I have enough for your friend too!”

Caught out she sighed quietly. He had defeated her before she even entered the arena. And honestly, it was really sweet that he’d shown up, though also a little weird. “Then come on up.” She blinked down at the phone as the notification came through for the door, pressing the button to open it while his voice echo’d

“Perfect! See you soon Miss Bodyguard.”

The silence was a blessing. Internally she mulled, fingers coming up to cup her chin as she slowly lowered the phone to sit on her lap. In the game, Rafayel coming to MC’s apartment had been a feature of their 4* cards, a point of contention. Either the game really had progressed more than she’d thought or Rafayel was simply using this opportunity to get closer. She squeezed her eyes closed and let out a grunt. There was no possible way for her to know, and honestly? How much of her suspicions were just her own perceptions of him? Pragmatically speaking, breakfast was breakfast.

To Zayne she spoke, dropping her internal mulling. “Hey, I have a friend coming with food. Can you open the door for them?”

Her back hurt from sleeping on the floor, standing up would be more than a bit of a nightmare right now. He nodded, slipping free from the blankets and making his way to the entrance just as a knock echo’d.

“Oh, it's you…” Rafayel probably hadn’t anticipated her doctor standing in her apartment.

In a bid to distract him she flopped forward, enough to peek at the entrance around the living room table. “Hey Rafayel!” We meet again, fishie… She waved, catching the surprised cast of his eyes as he stared at her on the floor.

He spluttered, the chain on his earrings swaying as he promptly dropped the bags in Zayne’s arms, kicked off his shoes and rushed to stand over her. “Are you okay?!” He was kneeling, hands out and hovering as he assessed her from head to toe with a surprisingly intense look. She cringed, realizing again that to someone without knowledge it looked goddamn weird to be alone with her doctor and strewn out on her floor in her pajamas.

“I’m fine! Honest…” She trailed off as two toned eyes assessed the blankets, judgement suddenly stark on his face from where he glanced at Zayne’s setup on the couch to her. Caught, she blinked. Artsy Birb, in all its accusing glory, was still sitting on her pushed aside pillow. Slowly, Rafayel glared over his shoulder at Zayne, the other man holding the bags in one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other with a deep sigh. “Uh.. it’s not what it looks like..?”

Rafayel turned back to her, body tense. Lowly he whispered. “Did that bastard make you sleep on the floor?!” Then he shook his head, leaning even closer, dwarfing her in his shadow. “Wait, nevermind that! Did that doctor follow you home?!”

She shook her head, pushing herself upright with a grunt. “No! Jesus Christ…." Christine wriggled, burned hands and bandaged wrist stinging as she freed herself from the rest of the blankets with a grunt. “Zayne’s one of my oldest friends from childhood, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers! So don’t worry, okay?”

“Not quite diapers.” The doctor strode back into the living room, standing behind Rafayel and watching her with a blank expression. “Since we were children though, certainly. You’ll need to add a few years to that number.”

“See?” She went to pat Rafayel's knee but quickly jolted away. It felt wrong to touch him so casually. Covering her awkwardness she shifted, successfully managing to maneuver herself onto her butt with fingers reaching to massage her ankle. The pain lancing through them had her skirting away. Wrestling Zayne yesterday had been a bad idea.

Rafayel knelt at her side, eyes trailing judgmentally from her ankle to her face. “Why are you on the floor?”

She shrugged and grabbed her crutches. “I like sleeping on the floor.”

The twist to his brow was comical. He stared at her in silence while she attempted to maneuver the crutches into the small space to stand. Evidently taking pity on her, Zayne stooped over Rafayel's back and offered her a hand, jolting the artist who immediately scooped up her other arm . The two of them pulled her to her feet where once again she was reminded just how much taller they were than her. It was annoying… Disquieting. She hobbled, thanking them both and making her way to the kitchen while they watched, bags still in Zayne’s other hand.

“Sleeping on the floor every once and awhile is good for your back, right?”

More judgement, Rafayel made it look like an art form as he slowly trailed her to the kitchen, arms crossing and brow furrowing. “Uh-huh….”

With a sheepish smile and a wince she settled into the bar stool, desperately trying to ignore the pounding ache of her ankle. Zayne settled the bags on the table and knelt, eyes bright where he assessed her foot without touching. “May I?”

“Sure?”

Cold! His hand was so cold, just barely coated in ice where he pressed it to the swell of her tendons. “You should have said something last night if your ankle was getting worse.”

Her full body flinch had her hands scrambling to hold the counter and the bottom of her chair as he rotated it slowly, watching carefully. Deep breaths, deep breaths! How can you possibly fight monsters if getting your ankle checked is making you want to cry?! “S-sorry, it just slipped my mind.”

A presence at her side, half hovering over her back, the smell of paint, cut grass, sea salt and something expensive. Rafayel's beige cardigan draped into her lap as he leaned over her. “Wow, you’re still really beat up.”

Don't stand behind me! She tilted her head backwards to meet his gaze with watery eyes. “Thanks.”

His smile was cheeky as he gave her a little shrug. He moved then into her kitchen with none of the hesitance her or Zayne had displayed the night before, unpacking the bags onto her counter with quick moves. Christine watched, blinking at how at ease he was, it made her feel better. More comfortable. Like this was a space she could and should inhabit. That was, until he caught sight of the frozen knife in the sink. She stiffened as she saw his confusion, jaw clenching as his gaze slowly trailed around the room. Don’t look up, don’t look up!! God continued to be cruel. She caught the exact moment he saw the knifeblock still frozen to the ceiling, the surprised part of his lips and widening of his eyes making her shoulders hunch.

At her feet, Zayne too followed the artist's gaze, the tips of his ears heating.

“Uh…” Rafayel pointed to the roof before turning to them both with a questioning head tilt. “Why…?”

“Creative expression.”

His look was so deadpan she couldn’t stop the breath that burst past her lips in a quick huff.

“Mhm-hmm. Suuuurrreeee…” He trailed off and stood beneath it, hands on his hips. “You have a plan to “remove” your creative expression or do you need someone to go up there and melt it?”

Christine turned to Zayne, a questioning quirk to her brow. “Can you…?”

“If I touch it.” There the three of them stood, like idiots. Zayne had thrown it into the middle of the ceiling, far from the counters that he could use to reach it easily and her bar stools were not sturdy enough for his weight. He heaved a sigh, pushing himself to his feet and standing below it. “I can free it, please just give me a moment.”

Rafayel walked to the knife in the kitchen sink and grabbed it, pink flames bursting around his fingers and slowly melting the ice in a steady drip, drip. In a low voice he spoke. “Shouldn’t injured people be at home resting? What were you even doing last night?”

Christine barely heard, utterly enthralled at the sight of fire pouring between his palms. It was bizarre, it was fascinating, it was so cool! She rubbed her chest, thoughts drifting to the evol she now possessed. Curiously she focused, hand in front of her, waiting. Was it like a muscle? A limb? Did she have to concentrate or do some sort of mental exercise? She stared at her hand, waiting for golden light to manifest. Nothing…

Quickly she stuffed her fists beneath her thighs, embarrassed, eyes peeking at the other two men in the room to see if they had noticed her actions. Thankfully they were both oblivious, Zayne having moved closer to the artist to observe him.

“Your evol must be very hot, few things can melt my ice.”

The lemurian blinked, staring from Zayne to the block of ice and back. “Yeaaahhh…?” He took one hand away and held it up, flame dancing in his palm for the doctor to see. “Not that I've ever measured it but it’s definitely hotter than your average fire. Wanna feel?”

Chrisinte blinked while watching in real time as the “boys will be boys” attitude manifested. Zayne, stoic and cold doctor Zayne reached with an ice coated hand and promptly stuck it in Rafayel's fire. She watched them, mouth dropping open in shock as they both observed the slow melt of it like two scientists.

“Indeed, it’s quite warm. That’s very impressive.”

???!!! Her wordless internal exclamation must have showed on her face, Zayne’s ears tinting once more as Rafayel grinned. “What? It’s called “creative exploration” Miss Bodyguard.”

She raised her hands in surrender. You know what? As long as they’re getting along I don’t care. Gently she shuffled the items Rafayel had brought closer to her. Sandwiches, pastries, and coffee pods. There was a warm bowl of some sort of fragrant rice and soup, another containing porridge. It was a strange mishmash of food from her perspective. Out of the corner of her eyes she watched Zayne build a small stool of ice, standing on it and thawing the block off her ceiling. The artist, now holding the free knife, was frowning deeply at the blood on the blade, something flashing as he looked her over. There’s no way he could know.

The sound of Zayne freeing the block from the ceiling was loud, immediately making Christine cringe, a telltale thump from upstairs having her eyes blow wide. Shit I didn’t text Xavier. She looked around for her phone desperately as Rafayel chatted away to the doctor in the background, asking questions about his evol and what things he could make with it. The sound of both their voices was white noise as she quickly hobbled out of her chair and hopped to her phone.

Too late, the knock on her door was pointed and prompt. It had been nothing short of a miracle Xavier had left at all last night, she didn’t doubt he’d been worried. Rafayel was the one who moved first, frowning as he watched her nearly trip and headed to the door, Zayne coming up along her side with a concerned furrow to his brow.

“You shouldn’t use your ankle.” His hand was out, hovering under her elbow. She shook her head at him furiously as Rafayel opened the door.

“Hey there, I think you have the wrong apartment…”

“I don’t.

She cringed, giving in and using Zayne’s arm as a crutch as she urged her sore body around the corner. As they made their way she swallowed hard, catching sight of Xavier standing at her door, glaring at Rafayel with a barely concealed look of annoyance. Christine chuckled sheepishly, anxious, unthinkingly squeezing Zayne’s forearm as she waved at the hunter. “Morning Xavier.”

Rafayel turned, something dark briefly crossing his face before clearing in a rush of puppy eyes. “Cutie! Do you know this guy?”

Both Xavier and Zayne stiffened at the nickname.

“Yes, he’s my work partner, please let him in.” She smiled at Xavier again, trying to look as reassuring and well balanced as possible.

The hunter pushed past the artist, taking off his shoes and making his way quickly into her apartment proper. He eyed the pile of blankets on the floor and the couch and then Zayne, the chill to his gaze making her want to shiver.

Bless his unaffected soul, Zayne simply stared back, urging her towards the bar stools and slotting her back into place with a gentle press. Xavier filled the space within seconds, the tired pallor of his skin stark in the warm light from the window. It had been harder to see last night but now it was obvious, like a clarion, he had been in a hell of a fight. She frowned at the scratches now prominent on his collar and hands.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

She smiled again as Rafayel came up alongside the counter, arms crossed and eyes assessing. “I’m feeling much better.”

A nod of ashy hair, Xavier's eyes cut to Zayne. “Did you end up taking her to Akso?”

Zayne just shrugged while Rafayel watched them both carefully. “There was no need.”

Please don’t talk about this! To distract she pointed to the food while speaking to Rafayel. “So! What did you bring? It all smells amazing by the way!”

He stared at her assessingly, eyes drifting to the knife in the sink once more and then down to her wrist where Xavier had been looking. He knows… The flash of his eyes was briefly alarmed before he bustled forward, dragging the food with him and pointing to various items. “You always liked congee so I got a whole pot! Do you want me to make you coffee?”

She smiled, relieved as out of the corner of her eye Zayne and Xavier disappeared from the kitchen, the hunter gesturing for the doctor to follow him with a wave of his hand. Rafayel seized her attention once more, tapping his hand on the counter and pointing to the coffee. “Pick a flavor cutie. I don’t often make things for people, you know? You should use this opportunity wisely.”

With a sage nod she tapped her chin, pretending to mull over her choices before grabbing something at random. She could not focus. What were Zayne and Xavier talking about?! “This one please.”

It was Rafayel abruptly shifting closer that shocked her back to reality, the open gape of his shirt briefly filling her vision as he leaned close enough to whisper. “You okay?”

Pink and blue, the colour so striking, so compelling… Christine swallowed hard. It was odd, strange…. He cared. How unearned… Clasping her burnt hands together tightly she mulled over her response. Rafayel wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to treat him like he was. With a low sigh she spoke. “I've been better. It was a rough first night.”

He hummed lowly, hip on the counter and coffee pod in hand. “Yeaaahhh… I could definitely see how that’d be the case.” Eyes on her freshly bandaged wrist, assessing. “Why did you almost have to go back to Akso? Were there… complications?”

She quickly shook her head and forced a smile. “No, Xavier stopped by last night and he was just worried. I look pretty rough, right?” Channel your inner MC, what would she do?! But Christine wasn’t MC. No witty words came, no playful sass to distract. She floundered, hands twisting harder.

Fingers on hers, larger, calloused, she nearly jerked away as Rafayel gently collected her hands and pulled them apart, a concerned wrinkle to his brow. “That's gotta hurt, yeah?”

She stilled, staring at her hands in his, hating how small they looked. “Yeah…” Her stomach twisted as she glared down at the wrinkled bandages, shame crawling. I didn’t mean to hurt MC’s body… Christine was a terrible person, an awful guest in this woman’s life, making scars of her hands and twisting her ankle. I’ll do better.

Rafayel was gentle where he carefully squeezed her fingers. No words were spoken, he moved then, grabbing her coffee maker on the counter and then promptly searching for her mugs. Within moments the smell of coffee brewing filled the air, relaxing her as he spoke. “Do you have things you need help with?”

“Oh I have a list!” She pointed to her phone on the living room table, eyes skirting to the other two men still deep in conversation. He nodded, grabbing it and eying the two speaking before coming back up along her side and plopping it down in front of her face.

“Show me, I can probably help.”

“Ah well, Zayne already promised to help me and I don’t want to take up too much of your time-”

Xavier cut her off, eyes big and round where he walked back into the room, the doctor in tow. “Isn’t it better if you have more people with you? Besides, Zayne is quite busy, isn’t he?” The stress on the other man's name had her eyebrows raising.

Zayne didn’t so much as blink, arms crossing across his chest as he sighed. “I already promised her my time and made a plan for all of places to go, we don’t need-”

“Perfect!” Rafayel bustled around, pushing her coffee in front of her and then smiled, all teeth. “Then we can just all go together, yeah?”

Xavier settled into the seat at her side as if he belonged there, nodding and pulling the container of soup up to her along with a pastry. “Yes, that works for me.”

Christine stared around in despair, tense. She could already see it. Neither Rafayel or Xavier was going to take no for an answer. With a hesitant look she glanced at Zayne watching as he simply sighed and moved to hand her a napkin. “I suppose so…”

“Sounds great! Better eat and then get out of the PJ’s cutie, we have a big day ahead of us!”

Quietly she responded. “Right…” She glanced around again. “Uhm, do you guys want to eat too? Not that I mean to give away your food Rafayel but-”

He waved her away, once more diving through her cabinets and pulling out plates, cutlery and cups. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” He stared up at Zayne and then pointedly at the stool. “So sit, yeah?”

What followed was a truly awkward breakfast. She had thought Rafayel would be chatty, would carry them through this. But she had forgotten something simple. Rafayel liked MC. Outside of that? He could not give a single shit. The tension was so thick in the room she could cut it with a knife, barely able to appreciate the new food she was trying as she fought not to choke at the occasional pointed sentence.

While sipping her coffee: “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before Xavier, I just can’t put my finger on it…”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you too. You like that club right? The bird themed one?”

The Nest?

A smile full of teeth. “Riiiggghhhtttt, thought so.”

While she was eating the congee:

Xavier this time, to Zayne. “So, doctor… aren’t you also Christine's primary care physician?”

Rafayel leaned in, like a shark scenting blood in the water. “Woah isn’t that like, a conflict of interest?”

The sound of a napkin being folded, cold hazel eyes assessing the other two calmly. “If you feel I am compromised at my job, please, feel free to talk to the director at Akso hospital.” With that he speared a chocolate croissant with the determination of a man on a mission, brow pinched and shoulders tight.

Twin frowns, she shrunk beneath the weight of their verbal war.

Christine was as enthralled as she was nervous, the strangeness of these men interacting was thrilling, especially since she understood all their underhanded references. That they were using this time to subtly bully and one up each other was fascinating. Did they think she was stupid? That she wouldn’t notice? She blinked as another snide volley slung back and forth, headache beginning to subtly bloom as the threads of becoming meaner became clearer.

Breakfast finished, she interrupted them, stopping yet another volley with a tap to the table. “If it’s okay with you guys, I’ll go get ready?”

Immediate course correction.

“Of course.”

“No problem cutie!”

Such friendly boys they were suddenly. It made a chill race down her spine at the flip in all their demeanors. You goddamn weirdos. “Right…” To Zayne then, “Can I get these bandages wet?”

He nodded, turning in the chair to face her more fully, hand out and waiting. “These need to come off today. A word of warning, they’ll hurt if you use your bare hands to put any sort of product anywhere on your person. I have gloves you can take into the shower. There is nothing I can do for your chest or legs unfortunately.”

“Ah, so I’m hooped?” A deep sigh, resignation reigning. “No worries!”

They all blinked and she partially shrank, confusion high at the look she was getting. Then it clicked. No one ever said something so slangy in the game, especially regional slang, the heel of an accent strong in the words. Christine clenched her jaw tightly and forced a smile.“The gloves please?”

Zayne nodded, walking back to the living room and returning with the gloves while both Xavier and Rafayel watched her curiously.

She fled then, as fast as a person with a sprained ankle could, to MC’s bedroom to pick clothes. Finally alone she sighed deeply. Taking a moment she looked around the bedroom once more, grateful she had covered the mirror. Opening MC’s closet had her sighing again. Tight pants and tight shirts, crop tops and a few dresses. It was all so… form fitting. So exposing. She hated it.

Mourning the loss of her large sweater and sweatpants she picked the nicest thing she could and disappeared into the bathroom, gloves on and water running. It hurt like a bitch to soap her body, as perfunctionary as she tried to be. It felt wrong to look, wrong to touch. Bodily functions now a test of dissociation.

Cleaned, she toweled her hair and brushed it out carefully, staring at the array of makeup on the counter with a deep frown. Christine couldn’t do makeup to save her life. She’d make even MC look like a clown. The perfume… more vanilla. She skipped it with a sigh and stared at the stranger in the mirror with her drying hair and bags under her eyes. I’m sorry…

Emerging from the bathroom she hobbled back towards the kitchen where low voices rumbled. She paused on the threshold, pulling in deep breaths and counting them quietly in her head. Relllaaaaax… Fixing a smile she moved back into the living space, pausing as she met the gaze of the three men now standing in her kitchen. Zayne had gotten changed, new clothes pulled from his overnight bag from late shifts at the hospital. Her kitchen had been cleaned and the food packed away, what was unnerving again was the splash of surprise on all three faces. She was embarrassed at the sight. MC would have done her makeup, would have put on her perfume and picked a nicer outfit. She was positive…

Awkwardly she moved into the space, fingers tensing and smoothing across her shirt as she sat in the bar stool.

Zayne nodded to her politely, eyes briefly on her hair before sliding to her face. “May I use your bathroom?”

“Oh! Of course!” She shuffled nervously as he took his bag and disappeared into the hallway behind her.

“You know cutie, I’m pretty sure you’re going to catch a cold if you go out with your hair like that.”

She blinked, frowning slightly, hand drifting to the damp strands. She fought to keep her expression benign under Rafayel's perusal of her person. It was such K-drama nonsense to constantly blow dry one’s hair, not something Christine had done personally in her past life but… she had promised to take better care of MC’s body. Slightly shamed, she tugged on the strands again. “Honestly I didn’t even think to look for a hair dryer…”

Xavier stood then. “Wait here.” A flash of light and he was gone. She blinked into the dazzle of it, expression agape.

A moment of stillness and then another flash. He was back, a small hair dryer in hand and offered to her.

“Holy shit…” The words slipped out without her permission, fingers slowly curling around the device as he stood there. “Does that make you nauseous? Are you moving at light speed or are you dissolving and reforming?!” Questions rushed past her lips, hair dryer limp in her hands. “Can you see where you’re going? Do you have to know ahead of time or can you just be given landmarks and coordinates? How do you make sure you don’t end up between floors or buildings?! How-?”

He cut her off, eyes wide. “One at a time please.”

Her jaw clicked shut audibly while Rafayel chuckled in the background, pulling the device from her hand and moving behind her. Immediately she stiffened, questions fleeing as proximity suddenly became her main concern. She didn’t have to mull on it, Xavier glaring past her shoulder at the artist while he waited at her back.

“Want some help Miss Bodyguard?” Low, breathy, like something from a Secret Times audio.

Don’t talk to me in that tone… A flush heated her cheeks even as her stomach tensed. “Oh, thank you Rafayel but I can-”

“How? You gonna use your crispy hands?”

“Uh…”

Xavier leaned forward then. “I can help you instead?” Daggers were being hurled at the artist at her back, hidden behind large blue eyes and a soft expression

Why are you guys fighting over my hair? Back off! “No, no it’s okay, uh-”

Rafayel leaned partially over her, dwarfing her and resting his chest gently against her back. “I already offered.”

She held still like a deer being hunted by lions as Xavier clenched his hands, staring at Rafayel with a dark look. Half scrunching beneath their twin presences she took a deep breath once more before deliberately shifting, upsetting the artists position on her back and half turning in her seat. “I don’t need either of you to help me, thanks.” Courage claimed she reached for the dryer, plucking it from his unresisting hands and hobbling back to her feet. “Be back in a bit!”

It was hard to use the crutches and hold the hair dryer but she made do, determined steps paving her way to the bedroom. Zayne walking out of the bathroom, made her stumble, nearly dropping the dryer as she lurched to get out of his way. Immediately his hand snapped out, catching both her and the crutches. He stared at her in concern.

“Are you okay?” He made sure she was stable before stepping back, a frown on his lips. Voices from the kitchen, not loud but definitely noticeable, her frazzled expression and the clutched hair dryer, he took it all in within seconds, lowering his voice and hovering a hand near her back. “Do you want them to leave?”

There was war in his eyes. Subtle, menacing, war. Christine heaved a deep breath and sighed. Truthfully, she didn’t want them to go. Despite the headache and anxiety, this really was in many ways also a bit of a dream. She was sitting in an apartment, with at least 3 of her favourite characters of all time. Now, were they all being a little shitty to each other? Yes. Was the apartment also still standing? Yes! A win in her books!

The fear too, of being stabbed was fading. Clearly, however the bond worked, Rafayel couldn’t actually tell something was off with it. Or to be more accurate, the lack of it. So really, was there any danger in getting to know them all? To lean on them in this new life she was being forced to live? To Zayne she gave him a tired smile. “No, it's fine. Honestly, I feel more comfortable having everyone along in a strange way. Like a big group introduction to friends and life in Linkon.”

His expression tensed briefly before smoothing. “As you wish.” He tilted his head lightly, hand out. “Would you like help carrying everything at least, Miss Hunter?”

Resigned she handed him the dryer and hobbled into the bathroom, Zayne following sedately as she managed to put down the lid on the toilet and sit. Jasmine and lavender, he must have put on cologne or shaved. It smelt much nicer than the shitty vanilla perfume. He plugged in the dryer and handed it to her, lingering briefly as he watched her maneuver it painfully into position and turn it on. Why wasn’t he leaving?!

It was bizarre to catch the shape of him in the mirror, like a strange out of body experience. She was blushing under his scrutiny, the cast of hazel eyes watching her clumsily wrestle with her burnt hands and the long strands.

“Aren’t you supposed to use a brush while you blow dry your hair?”

Her fingers halted, cheeks heating so hard they hurt. What the hell do you know? Sounds at the doorway, two new presences leaning in.

“It depends on what style you’re going for.” She blinked in shock at Xavier’s voice, glancing at him in the mirror as he moved into the room and stood beside Zayne.

Rafayel followed, nodding lightly and leaning back against the wall. “Though not using one miiggghhtt make you look like a cute little puffer fish.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Uh… pretty sure I don’t have to ask you for permission?”

Zayne this time. “It’s rude.”

Christine’s brain fuzzed, unreality settling once more. On autopilot she continued, speaking almost in a daze as she stared at the scene now in the mirror. “That’s what styling products are for.” MC, and the original three all stared back at her in the reflection. It made her heart ache. They all looked… right… correct. MC’s body fit them. It was her eyes reflecting back that didn’t. Her heart started racing, her hands started shaking. Deep breaths and counting exercises but she was losing the battle.

Zayne noticed immediately, dropping to a crouch by her side in concern as she gasped for air, the dryer tumbling out of her hands as panic descended. Suddenly they were all there, close and pressing, big hands and big bodies, care in the rumble of their voices that buzzed to white noise as she struggled to reign herself in, fought to make herself present.

She couldn’t succeed, tears now beading and dripping as the voices turned frantic while she heaved like a woman drowning. The sound of something loud, deep, then silence. The buzzing of the dryer stopped, the quiet drip drip of the shower. Christine was deeply grateful, coming back to her head buried in her hand, hiding from the mirror and the image inside it. The smell of chamomile tea wafted. There was something warm draped over her and something freezing in her hand, grounding her sharply back into her body. Slowly she lifted her head as voices registered, it was then that Xavier, speaking calmly finally registered.

Everything came into focus all at once. Zayne was on her left, a small iced seal sitting in her palm, hazel eyes concerned. On her right Rafayel stood, tea cup in hand, still steaming from where he had heated it, and at her back was Xavier breathing slowly exaggeratedly. It was he who spoke. “Back with us?”

Embarrassing, how goddamn embarrassing!

She dropped her head forward onto her chest and scrubbed her face roughly. “Yes- I…” Fucking hell! She clenched her hand carefully around the little seal, bringing it up to her cheek and promptly pressing it there while Rafayel handed the cup to Zayne.

“I might have heated the outside a little too much.”

The doctor nodded, hands chilling as he cooled the ceramic before placing it on the counter before her.

She couldn’t meet any of their eyes as she tugged on the blanket that was draped over her shoulder with her free hand. “Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” It was Zayne now, leaning forward to catch her gaze. “You’re going through a lot right now and it doesn’t help when the three of us have been acting like children. You can be overwhelmed, scared, anxious… you’ll have no judgement from us.”

“He’s right, sorry cutie.” Rafayel shuffled slightly before nudging the cup closer. Carefully she picked it up and took a sip, the warmth of it soothing the lingering edges of her panic.

Xavier spoke too, quiet but sincere. “Sorry. We won’t act like that again.”

She blinked at them all and then nodded. It wasn’t any of your faults… “Thank you. Could you all… leave me alone for a little bit? Just until I finish getting ready?”

“Of course.” They all stood, unfurling to their full heights and shuffling out. From the corner of her eye she watched Zayne take her razor and subtly pocket it, shame reigning once more.

Alone she breathed deep, studying the little seal and what she now realized was the couch throw blanket. Enough. This can’t happen again. She stared at MC, no… herself in the mirror. With determination she grabbed the dryer, clicking it on and stoically finishing her hair, sipping tea and occasionally holding the seal when she felt herself begin to disassociate once more. Christine couldn’t do this again. It was embarrassing, it would be dangerous if it happened at her new job and the more she did it, the more she would push the people now in her life away. She was positive of it.

Hair dry she grabbed the bottle of vanilla perfume, eyes tearing as she forced herself to spritz some on her neck and wrists. Next she grabbed the makeup, staring at all the bottles numbly before simply grabbing some mascara and applying it carefully. She stared at the woman in the mirror. It would have to be enough.

Back outside the bathroom she hobbled to the living room, fixing a smile at the men sitting quietly. She spoke before they could, head tilting. “Shall we go?”

They all exchanged glances before nodding, grabbing coats and gloves, Xavier having brought his at some point in her absence. The elevator ride was awkward and silent, the four of them piling out of the building and towards Zayne’s car in some sort of unspoken agreement. Or perhaps they had ironed out a plan. At the car she hobbled to the driver's side passenger door, prepared to climb in behind Zayne when three voices all spoke up, nearly overlapping.

“The front seat-”

“You should take the-”

“Don’t sit in the back-!”

She held up her hand, amusement breaking briefly through the fog. “I appreciate the thought but don’t be silly. I’m half your sizes, I can sit behind Zayne. You two can fight to the death about shotgun if you want.”

Rafayel and Xavier exchanged looks, some sort of silent battle waging before Xavier sighed softly. “I’ll take the front seat.”

Her fishie was smug, it just barely warmed his face. Now piled into the car's interior she relaxed as Zayne turned on the heater and some sort of gentle music. Piano, it swelled. She frowned slightly. It’s so familiar… It itched at her brain like a nuisance.

Rafayel distracted her, finger tapping the seat between them lightly. “Soooo, what’s on the list Miss Bodyguard?”

“Uh…” She pulled out her phone and scrolled, the list Zayne and her had cobbled together over the last few days. “The bank and then the store? The Hunter’s Association can wait until I’m cleared for work…. The apartment… hmmm” She read it over, pulling her lip between her teeth and chewing slightly. “Hey Xavier?” Christine leaned around the center console to better see the hunter, catching his eyes as he turned to face her.

“Mm-hm?”

“We live in the same building right? Can you explain the lease to me?”

At his nod she relaxed, calming as they drove through Linkon’s streets. She wrote in the notebook she had brought along while he spoke, happy for the distraction. Garbage was once every two weeks, she had to separate five types of recycling, rent and utilities were pulled from her account on the first of the month and the building had an indoor gym for free.

At the bank she took a deep breath and checked her wallet, all her ID pieces were present. Zayne gave her a gentle pat on the back and urged her towards the door while Xavier and Rafayel waved, the three of them off to a cafe while she sorted out all the legal bullshit of not knowing your banking password or account in a digital world.

It was stressful. She felt like she was committing fraud as she failed to answer the security questions, her doctors note from Akso the only thing that didn’t get her tossed out. Endless paperwork, endless security checks. They called the Hunters Association, Zayne as her attending physician, the EMT’s who’d brought her in and the mortician where Josephine’s body was. She shuddered at that news. No one had talked to her about a funeral yet. Had it already happened while she was unconscious?

Hobbling back into the cool sunlight with her new account info made her nearly quake with relief. At least MC had been frugal, she had some savings in case everything went absolutely tits up with the Hunter’s Association. A quick text had all three men returning, a cupcake and latte shoved into her hands as they pressed her into a seat and chatted away.

She watched them quietly. The stiff way they spoke to each other, the now veiled hostility. It seemed, they were keeping their promise of a truce as best they could.

The next stop was the store. It. Was. Huge! Christine stared around the interior, tense, a cacophony of new smells greeting her. Her hands ached just looking at the size of the aisles. She could see it on all their faces, the offer to carry her, but she was stubborn. She threw her crutches into her cart and laid her foot on the rack beneath, pushing herself, skating forward like a child. She felt stupid. So stupid. But she was moving on her own and that was what was important.

Food and medicine was quickly added to her cart. The three men appearing and disappearing at random to bring her items, always one of them staying behind with her to answer any questions or read any labels. The dual Mandarin/English on everything was familiar, similar to French and English labelling from back home, but she was helpless when the occasional item defaulted to one over the other. It was as she was in the produce section that a thought formed, a way to say thank you to these men.

She carefully selected the ingredients as they talked around her. She’d make them dinner one of these days to say thank you, preferable when she could use both her hands. In the clothing aisle she quietly picked out some larger, comfier sweaters. She wouldn’t use them outside the apartment but for when she was alone…

Lastly she added things for the men around her. Macarons for Zayne, a pre-made grilled meat bowl for Xavier… Rafayel was harder, his food preferences in game mostly consisting of fish related jokes, not actually around the things he liked. His myth had referenced fried shrimp cakes, right? She grabbed a package to be sure.

Shopping was exhausting. As they neared the checkout till she could see it brewing, the argument, the offer…. The cashier eyed her and the men with her with surprise, constantly darting to each of their faces with a clear “holy shit” in her expression. And honestly? Girl same. Christine wasn’t annoyed by it, silently agreeing with her blushing cheeks as Xavier asked about coupons, her frugal prince. When the time neared to pay she was prepared, turning to the three of them before they could move, an innocent expression on her face. “Sorry! I think I forgot to grab a few things! Could you guys grab me some toilet paper and an all purpose cleaner? I didn’t see any at the apartment. Oh and some sugar please.” Three mullish looks.

Zayne broke first, sighing and nodding, apologizing to the cashier and gesturing to the other two. “We’ll be quick.”

As they disappeared she whipped out her card. She did need those other items. Deliberately forgetting them? A small price to pay to beat the guilt of paying them back. The items were cheap, if they decided to battle her on those she would concede.

The cashier watched her in amusement at her harried look. “Your uh… friends…?”

“Hmm?” She tapped her card and waited, the girl squirming awkwardly before abruptly shaking her head with a blush. “Nevermind.”

They returned while the woman helped her load the items in the cart, three blankly annoyed expressions staring back at her. She smiled beautifully. “Thank you! I’ll pay for these and then we can go?”

“Nuh-uh cutie.” Rafayel pulled the packages from the other two men and walked to the self checkout, half pouting as he scanned and paid for them before stomping back and putting the items in the cart. He glared down at her along the length of his nose, arms crossed and head tilted. “Hmph!”

Christine smiled weakly, body aching as they all hobbled to the car and piled back in, Xavier now sitting beside her. Her head lulled as they drove, blinking herself awake several times as she watched giant skyscrapers fly by. Still so goddamn unreal…

They dragged her to a restaurant, some sort of quick soup place that tasted amazing . Too bad she nearly fell asleep eating. It was Rafayel gently poking her cheek that stopped her from faceplanting into her bowl of soup, Xavier and Zayne both staring with deep concern.

At the apartment they gathered all her bags and walked her back up, eyeing each flinch of her expression as she used her abused hands to hobble. She couldn’t goddamn wait to sit!!! In her kitchen they unloaded everything without asking before standing by her counter as the sun set. It was then that she gave them each the small gift she had brought for them, barely noticing the briefly stunned expression on all of their faces. For a moment she was confused. Why wouldn’t she get them a gift? It was as Xavier quietly inspected the label that realization descended. Should… I know what they like? The thought shocked her out of her exhaustion, heart suddenly beating so fast her chest hurt. Fake it till you make it, fake it till you make it!!!!

“Thank you all for your help today. You definitely made everything much easier, I appreciate it.” She forced a smile as she half leaned on the counter. Now leave! Christine ached to be alone. To settle with her thoughts and just… process everything, make a plan for the coming days and weeks.

“Of course.” Zayne tucked the box of macarons into his overnight kit and watched her with concern. “May I see your hands?” She sighed deeply but nodded, holding them out to him as he inspected them carefully, cream out of his bag and in his hands as he applied it to the raw skin. “We overdid it today.” Bandages out and wrapped, callused hands gentle where they maneuvered her fingers. “Please follow up at Akso in a few days, we’ll reassess your hands then.”

Quietly she spoke. “Okay.” Flexing her fingers lightly she turned to the others as Zayne packed his bag. Take the hint and go…

They could clearly get the vibe, the desire for solitude, but none of them were leaving. Her eyebrows slowly raised as both Rafayel and Xavier refused to meet her eyes, Zayne alone evidently willing to flatly stare her down.

“Tomorrow is Monday right…?” The implication was clear.

The doctor sighed and nodded. “Yes, I know for myself that I have an early shift at Akso... Do you have your discharge and integration plan from the Hunter’s Association?”

“Yup! They’re dropping off a laptop tomorrow for me to do an online retraining portion before I head in for anything physical once you clear me.”

Xavier leaned forward, big blue eyes earnest. “Do you need help?”

She smiled stiffly. “When I go back to the office for sure, but I’m mostly just doing physical therapy and reading for a bit.”

Rafayel now, edging closer. “Do you need help getting to your appointments…?”

She shook her head quickly. “Thank you, but I have to get used to living here on my own. I can’t make you my personal chauffeur, you have work to do, right? Thomas will kill you if you’re always with me.”

He blinked, eyes assessing once more. “You remember Thomas?”

Fuck!!! “Uhh yeah?” She quickly shook her head. “Anyway, I do have to be awake to receive the delivery tomorrow so I should probably be heading to bed soon…?” Three concerned expressions, it was starting to make her hackles raise. Christine sawed in a deep breath and then sighed, eyes sliding closed. As she did their presences became muted, sounds heightened, dropping them back into a comforting space over an overwhelming one. “Alright…” She swallowed hard, girding herself. “Spill.”

She opened her eyes, three gazes now focused on her, a questioning tilt to Xavier's head and a concerned furrow to Rafayel's brow.

She met their stares and frowned. “You’re all concerned, so spill. Lay it on me.”

Awkward shuffling, three sets of eyes now skirting away and to each other, concerned casts to their expression as she used slang once more. Christine wasn’t stupid, they had spent hours in each other's presence without her and god only knew what the hell they talked about. But she was so tired. So overstimulated with a brain exploding with new information and the deep ache of her abused body. Vanilla was still assaulting her senses, her clothes were too tight, too foreign and her hair kept swinging into her face. She was seconds away from either passing out or vaulting up and going for a run as best she could. She just needed space. But she wouldn’t spit in their faces, wouldn’t ever be ungrateful for their concern, their help, their time... She’d be absolutely screwed without them.

Zayne spoke up, evidently the de facto spokesperson. “Will you be okay here alone tonight?” Hazel eyes skirted to the knife block, his hands tightening on his lap subtly.

I really screwed myself last night. Christine sighed deeply and slumped. “I promised Zayne.”

His lips thinned as he compressed them. Hesitantly she moved, reaching out and patting his shoulder, then reaching out a hand to Rafayel and Xavier. Both of them watched her in surprise, her initiating touch for the first time. They carefully held her hands as she squeezed them once before quickly dropping them and sitting back. “I promise you guys, I’ll call or text if I need anything, okay?”

A crack, a shift, at last they all seemed to accept her words, moving to give her space as they all shuffled and stepped back.

“I’m holding you to that Miss Bodyguard, text me tomorrow okay?” She nodded as Rafayel gathered his coat, Zayne and Xavier on his heels.

“I’m just upstairs if you need anything.” Another nod, she hobbled after them, following them to the door and watching as they got dressed in their outerwear once more.

Zayne spoke last. “Text me as well, please. I’ll send you a follow up for your… workout goals and we’ll make a plan for your return to work once you finish your initial modules.”

“You got it.”

They all paused briefly before with inclined heads and shuffling feet they left.

Finally, at last… she was alone. A breath punched from her lungs as she hobbled back to the couch and collapsed, only now noticing the blankets and pillows had been removed. What a long day… She groaned, grabbing Artsy Bird and tucking it under her arms, eyes staring out the window in a daze, lists and plans running through her mind like water. Absentmindedly she blinked, a red glow staring back. Her brain fuzzed as it shifted, fluttering and hopping, like a bird…

She jerked, alarmed. Without thought she scrambled, half hobbling, half tripping, pulling down the blinds and blocking out the skyline. It was like a slap, the reminder of Sylus’ presence, like a timer ticking over her head. Christine stumbled, Artsy Birb in hand to MC’s bedroom and collapsed, dragging the blankets over her head and burying herself in their comfort. Tomorrow, that's a problem for tomorrow…

Chapter Text

The morning after “The Day” as Christine termed it, passed in a blur. Texts and laptop delivered, training manuals memorized and food cooked. She was subsumed by the grind of it all, healing slowly and cramming her brain, unable to even care that she was in the world of a game as reality pressed relentlessly against her tired soul. Calls and check-ins, they broke the monotony. Familiar voices with unfamiliar requests and responses, now true demands on her time.

“The Boys” as she mentally deemed them were a consistent presence, each of them always checking in at different times throughout the day. For the first few days, they all tried to come over at one point or another, Christine practically hiding from them as she crammed information on wanderers and weapon training manuals, losing herself in work. Desperate for its stability, craving its ability to wipe out her ability to think too hard.

That all came to an end, avoidance and missed calls leading to a knock on her door. Zayne interrupted her solitude, standing outside her door with a firm look. Clearly, her tactics weren't going to work forever. She sighed as he made his way inside, shoes off and staring around her apartment carefully.

“You were supposed to schedule a follow up appointment for your hands.”

The judgement! Even though it wasn’t obvious in his tone she could see it in his body language, mouth compressing as she smoothed back her hair and tucked said hands into the sleeves of the large sweater she was wearing. It was the one Zayne had bought her. She still couldn’t bring herself to interact with MC’s things casually, preferring the few items that had been given since she arrived in this world. To him she spoke, hobbling carefully to the kitchen and gesturing for him to sit. “I know I’m sorry. I just…” She sighed deeply. “I have so much to learn and so little time to do it. They want me to start going to the office next week.” Christine rubbed her burning eyes and walked to the fridge, muscle memory from a life past having her pulling out milk, hands filling the kettle and setting it to boil.

She watched as Zayne pulled off his coat and carefully draped it over the seat, a surprisingly nice black suit beneath. He always dressed well. Hell, everyone around her seemed to dress like runway models but this was definitely more formal. She blinked at it as the kettle clicked, grabbing mugs and placing one before him without asking. Tired. She was so tired!!! Words spilled past her lips as she grabbed tea bags. “You’re dressed to impress, got an event?”

Hazel eyes skirted away as she fumbled with the tin. “You could say that…” He stood then, gently grabbing the package from her hand and popping it open, holding it out to her as he quietly seemed to steel himself. She blinked, pulling the bags from it and putting one in each cup before adding water, the bowl of sugar she pushed next to him before settling in her seat.

“Is there… something wrong?”

Zayne folded his hand together properly, head dipping. She was starting to get anxious at his silence, nervous the longer he didn’t meet her eyes.

“Zayne?”

“Forgive me, I am simply trying to think best about how to phrase this.” He pulled the cup closer and sighed deeply. “Christine.” The use of her name had her nearly dropping the spoon of sugar she held, eyes wide as she stiffened.

“Yeah…?”

He shuffled around until he was facing her fully, leaning one arm on the table and tapping his finger. “I apologize in advance, I’m sure this is something you would have rather handled yourself. However, since you were unconscious at the time and Josephine listed me as her secondary contact…” Zayne trailed off as he heaved a deep breath. He caught her eyes, as if facing a firing squad. “The funeral for Caleb and your grandmother, it was held the day you woke up. We weren’t sure when or even if you would ever regain consciousness.” He stalled, fingers tensing. “There was nothing to bury for Caleb, at least not physically. But Josephine-”

She held her hand up, staring as it shook subtly. Immediately his mouth snapped shut. Christine felt like she was having an out of body experience. Josephine was no one to her and Caleb wasn’t even dead. What face should she be making? What should she do?! Outwardly she spoke quietly. “ I see. Thank you for handling that, Zayne.” A deep breath, she held it briefly. “Did you pay for the funeral costs?”

He looked hunted before quickly shifting away. “No… Josephine had already made plans.”

“And Caleb?” He’ll pay you back once I see his ass again in that case.

“The DAA handled that through his life insurance policy.”

He wasn’t meeting her eyes, blinking rapidly and shifting. She stared, pinning him in place with a severe look. “Zayne-”

He promptly took his tea, grabbed the sugar and started measuring spoonfuls calmly. “Please, don’t concern yourself with those matters. My intent today was different.” She watched with widening eyes as he added another scoop and then another scoop, her hand out and hovering with the half formed thought of stopping him as he continued to talk. “I came today to see if you’d like to go and visit them.”

His words had her freezing, healing hands tucking themselves into her sleeves. There was no question in her mind. For MC, she would go. Whatever relationship MC really had with Josephine only she would know, but the game had implied her grief well enough and maybe… It could be healing for Christine too. A way to say goodbye, to her grandmother and brother as well. Slowly she nodded, grabbing her tea and taking a slow sip. “Yes, I’d… like that… Let me finish this, get dressed and then we can go.”

Zayne nodded, sipping his sugar mixed with tea with a completely flat expression

Quietly she stirred, gaze faraway, She would like to offer her families funeral rites for Josephine and MC. She didn't know if MC would have preferred something else, wasn't sure what the customs even were here or what social faux pas she might inadvertently do. Taking a slow sip she eyed Zayne. “Is there anything special I should bring or that we should do? I… don't remember ever visiting someone's grave before.”

He offered her a shrug. “I would say that you should simply do whatever feels best to you. It's only you and I, there are no aunties or uncles to judge you.”

Confused, she fought the wrinkle of her brow at his wording before it clicked. Ah, it must be like in China where people say those titles for people older than them… “Still. I would like to do it properly.”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “In that case as Josephine's grandchild it would be appropriate to wear blue, though since we're also going to see Caleb it doesn't matter as much. Typically you would also bring an offering, something to clean the tombstones with and paper to burn. However,” He paused once more. “As I said, there is no need. It's just us, I'd rather you do as you wish.”

Suddenly it was bursting at her lips, the deep desire to share her story, her way of mourning. A tree planted for the dead, a song sung and heaps of food cooked and shared. It was… so terribly important to Christine, death having visited her and her brother too young. She bit it back, jaw clenching tightly, a wall erected. I can't…

She chugged the rest of her tea in one swift move and stood. “Blue it is.” Her ankle had been healing surprisingly well, her ability to now limp around the house and ditch the crutches a godsend.

In her room she found the nicest dark blue dress she could, sliding it on along with black leggings and covering her shoulders with a black scarf. In the bathroom she once more faced down MC's intimidating makeup and hair products, practice in the evening and Moments videos allowing her to apply a basic eyeshadow and mascara. She never stared at her face longer than she had to, Zayne's frozen seal sitting on the counter, ready and waiting for when she lost herself once more. Hair braided, she returned to the kitchen, forcing a smile.

“Shall we?”

He nodded and stood, pulling on his jacket and fixing his sleeves. As she watched him, an intrusive thought blazed. His cup. It still had some tea… She stared at it and then him. Surely it must just taste like licking a sugar bowl? But… she wanted to know. He caught her staring with a sigh.

“One should clean their own house before looking to anothers.”

She blinked and snorted unthinkingly. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, something she had always wanted MC to say to Zayne. “Did you just quote a philosopher at me so I wouldn't judge your speedrun to diabetes?”

He fixed his cuffs, nonchalant. “No. I made that up right now.”

Christine laughed, genuine and unstoppable. A bark of inelegant sound that had her huffing out a breath as she covered her mouth in surprise. Quietly she whispered as she watched him subtly preen. “You menance…”

He scooped up his cup and placed it in the dishwasher before returning, gesturing for her to proceed him.

Back in his car, it was becoming familiar at this point, Linkon once more passed in a blur, as captivating as every other time she had seen it. For the first time she left the tangle of skyscrapers that encompassed the city core allowing her to get a good look at the environment. The ocean was vibrant where it sparkled on her right, bluer than she expected for a sub tropical climate. That had to mean Whitesand Bay was nearby. As they came around a bend she looked up into the clouds and had to force herself not to react.

Skyhaven was supposed to be close to Linkon but Christine had always assumed Canadian close. As in, at least a 3 hour drive through nothingness before you even hit the outskirts of civilization. It was probably further outside the city limit than it looked, towering buildings reflecting light in dazzling fractals over the highway. She couldn't make out any of its features, mouth parting in shock at its sheer size. The physics of it made no sense to her brain.

Before she knew it they were pulling up to a grassy plot of land, tombstones as far as the eye could see. Zayne had already brought flowers before coming to her apartment and a small tray of two mini apple pies as offerings. Truly, MC had been blessed to have amazing people in her life. Christine hobbled after him as he led her through the labyrinth of grey headstones until at last they came to a new one, Josephine's name carved on it along with a simple inscription. “Loving Grandmother and knowledge seeker.” The second part had her mouth tensing before she sighed softly, kneeling without thought and bowing her head, hands pressed together.

It was Zayne’s start of surprise that made her remember she was not supposed to be doing her family's death rites. Did people bow here? Too late. She committed. Snow didn’t bother her, cold didn’t bother her. She closed her eyes and breathed deep thinking of MC, the woman who had been here before. Quietly she whispered to her in her head, apologies and promises. Christine would look after her body, care for her dreams, and for the men that would have been the foundations of her future. She would respect and cherish this new chance at life, and this strange world she had found herself in. To Josephine, she sent the woman her regards, brow scrunching in uncertainty before smoothing.

Opening her eyes she caught the cast of Zayne’s gaze, his blank expression surprisingly comforting. “Could you give me a few minutes alone?”

He nodded, handed her the flowers and stepped back, distance now offered. “I’ll be by the gate, come get me when you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath as he left, her thoughts on both of the women from this world and now also her grandmother. Tears beaded her eyes the second the image of the old woman appeared in her mind. Strong, tough, loving, all words she had associated with her growing up. Wizened hands that taught her to can and cook, paint and crochet, garden and love. Christine owed everything to her.

Hands clasped tightly she sang quietly under her breath. “J'irai la voir un jour, au ciel, dans la patrie…” Her throat caught, breath seizing. The song was old on her tongue, passed down from her grandmother at the death of her parents. It was an outdated song. Almost no one sang it at funerals anymore. The French was clumsy in her mouth but she persisted, hands tightening hard as she thought of all the women she now owed her life to. “Oui, j’irai voir Marie, ma joie et mon amour…” Movement out of the corner of her eye, she frowned, blinking past her tears. Zayne, if you came back I am going to be pissed…

Subtly she tilted her head as she continued, a man, several tombstones down standing quietly. “J’irai la voir un jour…. C’est le cri d’es- espérance.” Christine stumbled over the pronunciation as she tried to catch sight of his face, something in her clamoring. He was tall, dressed in black from head to toe with a low hat and black mask. What truly struck her was his stance, leaning and exhausted, bending towards her even as he pretended he wasn’t listening.

He’s watching me… He was making her hair stand on end.

“Qui guérit ma souffrance, au terrestre s-séjour…” She stumbled over the words again as her brain itched. The wind blew hard, chilling the tears on her face as she forced herself to ignore him. If he wanted to listen, so be it. Christine wouldn’t want to stop someone else’s grief. She sang the rest of the song, focusing hard once more on the women she was singing for.

As the last note trailed off she took a deep breath, gently placing the flowers and sitting back on her heels. Her soul felt lighter. In the spring, she’d ask about planting a tree for all three of them.

Brushing her hair she tipped her head back and sucked in a deep breath, stretching her hands and letting her grief flow through her, quietly re-affirming her promise. It was only then, as she turned her head and the wind blew that she saw the man shift, her breath seizing. His sleeve was empty.

Within seconds she was stiff, confusion roaring and breath racing. Caleb…? It had to be him! What should I do?! Indecision held her in place for a moment before she girded herself. MC had loved Caleb. Whatever reason he had for staying away, she could learn it later. From the cards Christine had pulled she knew… something had happened to him. Desperately she wished once more that she’d watched Homecoming Wings her ignorance was going to be her downfall. She turned back towards him with clenched fists, dress bunched as she prepared to stand only to blink in surprise. He was gone.

She jerked her head back and fourth, scanning. He was so tall! He couldn’t possibly have left that fast! On her feet she turned in a circle, breath held and hands trembling, but there was no sign of him. With gritted teeth she followed the trail of his footprints in the snow, dismayed as they led her back to the exit gate where she could now see Zayne leaning, head tilted up to the sky.

Christine approached him in a rush. “Did you see a man walk through here?”

He blinked, straightening and eyeing her carefully. “Many people have walked through here.”

She slumped, blinking back tears and catching her breath. She spoke unthinkingly, mouth moving as she vented in his presence. “I swear I just saw Caleb, he was standing by the grave and-” She was cut off as Zayne abruptly clasped her shoulder, it was only then, as she took in his alarmed face that she realized how it sounded. Christine shook her head, fingers reaching for his hand on her shoulder as she fought not to jump back. “I’m serious Zayne, he was standing there!”

He took a deep breath and faced her fully. She shrank as he pinned her with concerned hazel eyes. “Did you see his face?”

“Wha-? Well, no but-”

“Did you hear him speak?”

She shook her head, frustration mounting as she realized more and more how ridiculous she sounded. How could she explain that she knew Caleb was alive and missing an arm without explaining the rest. Tears beaded at the corner of her eye, breath deepening. Christine knew there was something wrong with him from whatever had happened after his death. She owed MC. She had to try to help him… didn’t she? She stood under Zayne’s worried scrutiny, shoulders bunching before she wrenched back as his hand came forward to hold her shoulder once more. Don’t touch me.

It was nothing personal. She could see his perspective, would believe the same in his shoes. Surely he thought she was struck by grief, surely he would ascribe this to another break in her mental faculties-

Her mental rant was cut off as he spoke simply. “Okay.”

She blinked, derailed. “Okay?”

He nodded, gently grabbing the ends of her scarf and rewrapping them around her neck and tucking the ends carefully into her coat. Through it all he made sure not to touch her directly. “I believe you.”

She stared up at him in disbelief. He didn’t sound condescending or like he was agreeing for the sake of it. Truly, it was a simple expression of faith. Belief, trust, he took her words at face value and assimilated them simply because they were from her. Christine stuttered, fingers wringing together. “Was there… when the Administration came, was there something odd-?”

Zayne shrugged lightly. “Not necessarily but… it didn’t sit… well with me how rushed everything was.” He looked away, mouth tense. “The lack of a body, it wasn’t a surprise. The explosion imploded after all. Still…”

She blinked at the apparent contradiction, gaze confused. “How can an explosion implode? Those are opposities.”

He shifted, staring at the sky, hands tensing. “Caleb always had spectacular control over his evol.”

Christine's heart felt like it stopped, mouth drying at it sunk in just what Zayne was trying to tell her. “He-?”

Hazel eyes on her once more, the emotion in them suddenly stark. “The blast radius, it should have killed you. That it didn’t I ascribed to a miracle once the reports came in on the tonnage of the detonation. You coding on my operating table, that you lived to even make it to Akso… it was wonderful when you opened your eyes.” He stared at the sky once more. “Yet that initial miracle had a name. Someone directing it. I don’t know what you remember of Caleb… and I don’t know how he could have turned the blast on himself and lived. But I think for you… he would find a way.” Something veiled Zayne’s expression before he offered her the faintest of smiles. “Still,” He paused and gently tapped her scarf. “Be careful when grief offers you miracles. It is easy for them to masquerade as hope when all they truly are, are tethers to delaying true grief, true healing.”

Christine nodded, numb. “I understand.” She felt like she was floating outside her body…

He was staring at her, eyes intense, body curving. Slowly he nodded. “Do you still want to go visit where his spot is here?” At her nod he gestured for her to proceed him, quiet words following as they moved. “If you feel like you see him again, tell me, please.”

“Okay Zayne.” She followed him in a daze as he took her to another plot, staring at the broad width of his shoulders and dark flash of his hair. MC really had been blessed. His fatih shook her. That he didn’t dismiss her, that he didn’t belittle her… Why couldn’t I have had someone like you in my past life? The thought was cruel, pain lancing hard through her chest and unpleasant memories clamored.

Christine twisted her hands as she forcefully switched her thoughts to Caleb. To turn the blast on himself…. Slowly she flexed her hands, thought of the dog tag hanging from her neck and the burns on her body. MC had clearly loved her family too.

Caleb's tombstone was nondescript, military and perfunctionary, surrounded by other similar stones. It was decorated with flowers and offerings, gifts from his friends in the DAA she was sure. Zayne handed her one of the apple pies, bowing at her side while she dropped to her knees again. Even with her knowledge of Caleb being alive she didn't want to mar the space with false platitudes, quietly thinking about her brother instead. It was hard to focus, her eyes darting around without her permission to check for that dark figure once more before Zayne distracted her.

“Would you like a moment alone again?”

“Please.”

Left alone once more she finally settled, Zayne watching from a fair distance away. With clasped hands she breathed deep, brow furrowing. Focus… The song from before was only for women, and her brother wouldn't have wanted it anyway, the little shit. The thought was fond and warm as she thought of him, smiling to herself as she pictured him whining at her about being such a baby about being re-incarnated into an otome game. Out loud she spoke quietly. “I miss you…” It was simple, but the words were true.

Dashing away the rest of her tears she stood and made her way to Zayne's side nodding to him as they both turned to leave.

The trip back to her home was unremarkable, the doctor a quiet, comforting presence. The more time she spent with him the more she could appreciate his demeanor. It lacked pressure, was calming and surprisingly warm. Of course she knew Zayne could be warm, she just hadn't anticipated seeing aspects of it so soon.

Her phone vibrating pulled her from her thoughts. Xavier and Rafayel both checking in on her with eerie timing. She stared before frowning at Zayne. Had he… told them they were going to the cemetery?

Perfunctory responses, typed quickly and then silence once more. Back at the apartment Zayne checked her hands, expression calm as he remarked on their healing before handing her a printed schedule. She blinked at it, flipping through it as realization dawned.

“Your workout schedule.”

“Zayne…” She trailed off. Did she really have to work out five times a week?! Sure there were different things on different days, some of them seemingly only physio recommendations that followed the notes she had been given at her appointments. Christine sucked in a hard breath, closed her eyes and sighed. I asked for this. “Thank you.” Blinking up at him she tapped the written out “ramp up” plan and meal plans. “This must have taken a lot of work so I appreciate it.”

He shrugged lightly as he pulled back on his coat. “I used to go to a personal trainer and they owed me a favor.” Back at his full height he watched her carefully. “Are you serious about following through?”

Immediately she nodded, determination curling. “Yes.”

He smiled, the tiniest curve of his lip practically equivalent of a grin on anyone else. “Very well, then I'll see you next week.”

“Huh?”

Zayne pulled open her door and stepped outside, speaking over his shoulder. “5:30, please be ready. Also, be aware I did send this plan to your Captain as well so she and Xavier should be aware and capable of supporting you. Until then.” With a dip of black hair he was gone.

Christine stared at the closed door with dread before staring down at the schedule once more. Zayne ran marathons. For fun! I'm fucked.

Resigned, she quietly grabbed her laptop and returned to her training. There was nothing for it. She promised to succeed and she would.

--------

Days passed, more avoided calls and texts, knowledge upon knowledge crammed into her tired brain. At first, it seemed both Rafayel and Xavier were content with her radio silence, giving her space alongside Zayne who had stayed away since their trip to the cemetery.

As she healed that changed.

Her first official week at the Hunter's Association was a terrifying whirlwind of meet and greets, onboarding and more training. If it hadn’t been for Xavier showing up at her door to help her take the subway she wouldn’t have even made it her first day.

Officially discharged from Akso, her days suddenly became a very strange sort of routine. Runs and the gym in the morning with Zayne. Christine was positive he thought she would quit but she was stubborn. As promised, he would help her workout from 5:30am until 7:00am, coming to her apartment gym in the mornings. He ensured she did her physio and stretched, her strength training and cardio, leaving her huffing and gasping for mercy. He would occasionally drop her off at the Hunter’s Association on his way to Akso with barely a blink for her tortured state, leaving her to suffer under Xavier's surprisingly stern tutelage. Payback perhaps for her ghosting routine earlier.

The Unicorn Hunter was both a kind teacher and a mean one, randomly appearing and disappearing throughout her day as she worked through the re-training program and desperately tried to learn everything MC had during her years of University. He would give her random snacks while quizzing her, the faint frown around his blue eyes nearly devastating when she got something wrong.

The rest of the office was another shock. Tara was as kind in real life as she had been portrayed in the game. It was clear the woman was both put off by her changed demeanor and also accepting of it, happy to introduce Christine to the other people around the office and include her in work activities. It was nice to have her company along with Simone. She struggled desperately to bridge the gap between her and the two women, having to learn them truly and utterly from scratch.

Nero was a nice surprise too. She liked him. A lot. He was a nerd, just like her, and his knowledge about wanderers and his guides had her buying him coffee and cookies as thanks. Sometimes she’d catch Xavier's eye as he glowered. As if Chrstine wasn’t also getting him snacks all the time.

The best part was the motorcycle training. There was something so freeing in taking her life into her own hands and hurtling around on a death machine inches from the ground. No stakes for anyone else. Just her and the road (well, indoor sim but the road as soon as the weather cleared). It probably spoke poorly of her mental state but she relished each lesson.

The worst part by far was weapon training. Guns were fucking scary but at least they were long range. Her first day in the shooting range she’d wanted to cry. As someone who had never held a weapon before in her life she was grateful for the lingering muscle memory that would kick in when she zoned out. It helped her progress, helped her grow and settle until she could mostly hit the targets while paying attention. Swords or close range weapons? Another matter entirely. Thankfully sparring wouldn't be for awhile yet.

Without fail, Xavier of course, would notice her absentmindedness, tapping her back with a firm poke whenever her expression phased out. A softly spoken “Pay attention” or “focus.” curling through her ears. He made her so nervous when he did that, his proximity flustering.

Her evol was… another matter.

Christine didn’t understand it. Couldn’t feel it most of the time. It was like everyone was constantly telling her to flex an appendage she didn’t have. During one such training session, Xavier had sat with her, quiet and attentive, talking her through how to feel for him, how to feel for the resonant chords that would allow her to not only boost his evol, but give her the ability to partially control it. She‘d felt nauseous at the thought. Didn’t that feel weird? Wasn't it strange?!

There was only one time she had succeeded so far. Little balls of light had collected along her palm at her urging, the thrum of something buzzing in her chest. That connection, golden and warm, spilling between the two of them. It had been comforting, reassuring… It had felt dangerously like coming home. Like the feel of curling up in a soft blanket, or eating her favourite food. It was then that she realized she could feel him.

She had severed the connection immediately without meaning to. Resonance worked two ways after all. If she could feel him, then he could definitely feel her. Do I feel the same as MC did? Watching his expression, she couldn’t tell.

Days had passed since then before she found herself sitting across from Xavier once more. Her brain buzzing with theoreticals and manuals as he spoke.

“Think about the shape of my light.” Before her an orb hovered, dazzling and beautiful.

He was lit behind it, fingers out below hers as he moved it. “What do you think when you see it? What do you feel?”

Christine watched, focusing and breathing deep. She thought, hard. “I…” She fumbled with her words. Truthfully, what she thought when she saw Xavier's light was complex. Protection, whimsy, adoration… Unearned emotions from a one sided relationship through a phone in another life. A light evol bunny that had never been constructed for her, a sword that manifested and blocked during training, and exhaustion, that carved the face of its bearer into wary lines.

She knew too much about Xavier. It rattled in her chest each time she saw him half nod off at his desk, each time she saw him with new cuts and bruises healing along his skin, heard it in each little white lie he told when questioned about how he got injured. They all accumulated into a terrible mess. Her guilt about knowing him but not being her. Her lingering unease at the world and her place in it… Speaking out loud she sighed. “It’s bright.”

It was a stupid answer. Deliberately stupid. She watched the cast of his face tighten subtly, a low exhale sweeping past his lips. She ducked her head in response and stared down at her hands, conflicting feelings roaring.

Christine was a liar. Day in and day out. She couldn’t bring herself to bridge that gap, to open the gates of resonance between them and risk him knowing, realizing… It was ultimately a stupid plan. She’d promised MC even if only to herself that she would fulfill the woman's dreams. Being a hunter was that dream. This… issue. She’d have to get over it eventually.

But maybe… not yet…

------

Evenings brought a quiet commute home on the subway, sometimes with the other hunter in tow. Messages from Rafayel and memes shared. More than once the artist would pop up at her apartment with dinner or snacks, running from Thomas and loudly complaining that she needed to come save him. “I’m still technically employing you Miss Bodyguard!”

And truthfully, part of her was afraid to check if he had sent her money.

They established a routine on one of those nights, Rafayel sitting in her kitchen with food brought. It was then that they decided that Tuesdays were their day. The two of them would cook, or at least attempt to. Recipes picked out sometime during the proceeding week. They'd eat whatever abomination they’d created and then, based on his recommendations, watch a show she had picked out from a list he had provided. She had searched after. Every single option he’d given her had well over a thousand episodes. Cheeky fishie.

It was nice. Every Tuesday filled with his presence as they planned food she'd never cooked before and watched shows core to Linkon’s cultural identity. She was… deeply grateful he seemed content to be as friendly as possible, guiding her subtly and gently through cultural expectations and jokes without ever pressing for anything else. In many ways, it was one of the biggest contributions to her integration with her new life.

It was during one such hangout session as he sat by her side that it occurred to her. He’d had to do this, hadn’t he? When he’d left Lemuria and came to the surface? It made her heart ache to think about. She couldn’t imagine trying to do this alone.

Other days it was Zayne, his quiet presence welcome as he’d come to share a meal and chat with her about her day. Since she saw him in the mornings they would make plans for the evening if he had time. It was nowhere near as often as Rafayel's weekly visits. He too would help her cook or suggest takeout, content to do whatever she wanted whether that be watching a drama or playing a new board game. The evening they'd gone to Kitty Cards for the first time, Christine had been ready. Like a warrior going to battle. She was beyond prepared to destroy him. But unlike digital Zayne, real Zayne had changed tactics the second he'd realized she'd anticipated his strategy. She hadn't won since.

Xavier too, filled her time, always getting her to try new takeout and introducing her to new video games or movies in this world. Thoroughly destroying her in a few of them before she learned and managed to return the favor. His look of shock the first time they'd 1 vs 1 in an FPS had been a bit priceless, but Christine had been forged in the fire of early Call of Duty lobbies. Xavier wasn't mean enough to beat her. It was all… really nice… She was getting to know the shape of them in new ways, outside the cards and stories she’d read.

They were less perfect and far from flawless, humanized in new and terrible ways that made her heart ache. Unlike in the game, they made mistakes.

Zayne had passed out on her couch after a long shift at the hospital, right in the middle of the board game they had been playing, face down with his head pillowed on his arms and glasses askew. She should have been insulted but she had been warmed instead, tucking a blanket over him and relaxing on the floor. That he still came, even when he was so clearly exhausted. It made her heart hurt.

Another time, Rafayel had accidentally microwaved her only plastic tupperware, melting it in the process and gassing them both. His look of sheer alarm had been so amusing she had forgiven him within seconds.

And Xavier. She’d expected him to be sleepy, to be cagey, knew that he had a bit of a mischievous streak from his Secret Times. And yet she had never anticipated him scaring her half to death by hiding around the corner in the hallway of the association. She wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

There were other things. Zayne got surprisingly talkative when he was lost in thought, words bleeding past his lips while he mulled over any sufficiently complex topic. He also had hands dryer than the Sahara from constantly washing them for surgeries and it made Christine want to slather him in lotion.

Rafayel could get overstimulated if too many things were being shoved in his face at once and had a bad habit of touching said face no matter what was on his hands. More than once he ended up with flour or paint decorating his cheekbones. He also hated it when anyone touched him who wasn't her, his reaction not dissimilar to her own. It made her wonder, made her worry….

And Xavier… he was far more manipulative than anyone had ever seemed to notice or give him credit for, far smarter too. Christine had been aware peripherally of course, but not in reality. Hadn’t really noticed he was successfully corralling her, not until she was staring down big blue eyes and a soft expression, a lunch she had wanted to skip in her hands.

All the bits of them she was learning were precious…. novel… It formed a fuller picture until the men in front of her subsumed the ones in her head.

She noted all these things down quietly.

For all that she saw them, the three of them never overlapped, seemingly settling into a strange dynamic… an odd truce. She couldn’t tell if they all hated each other or not. One’s presence would always subsume the other. They never… lingered. Invisible boundaries drawn. Were they doing this for her? She couldn’t say…

What she did know is that all of them wished she would visit them, but she just… couldn’t. The only exception had been her one time trip to Whitesand Bay near Rafayel's studio. They hadn’t gone to his house proper, just to the beach nearby. There he had taught her about his tradition for the dead, the meaning and the ceremony of it, and the two of them had released her shells to the ocean.

MC’s space felt safe as time went on, it felt like hers. She clung to it like a blanket, terrified of being in their spaces at their mercy.

Old habits die hard after all…

------

The feeling of getting stronger settled her as her first month in Linkon passed in a rush. Internally, she mulled at the strangeness of it all as routine beat familiarity into her. Oftentimes she would find herself staring at one of the boys, questions lingering at the back of her mind. Did they notice she was different? Did they care? She certainly felt it.

Christine had to stop herself constantly from referencing events from her life, stories she was eager to share as the shape of them changed from “stranger” to “friend” in her mind. Stories that would be desperately out of place and suspect in this world.

She couldn’t make Nanaimo bars for Zayne, couldn’t talk about her favourite video games from the early 2000’s with Xavier (half of them didn’t even exist here!) and her stories always fell flat when she talked to Rafayel, causing the artist to eye her with concern more than once. She was supposed to be a blank slate as far as they knew but since she wasn't… The pressure of that, the wall she had built between them and her… it made her chest hurt. She wanted them to see her…

All of them were hard to read which didn’t help matters. They’d give her weird looks when she slipped up, beautiful eyes assessing and judging. Yet they never said anything. She felt like she was failing MC when that happened.

She wasn’t MC. They shouldn’t like her the way they did her. Christine didn’t say the right things. She didn’t act cute or sassy, didn’t bully or cajoule like the protagonist. Even as she got stronger, got more comfortable, she felt deeply like she was chasing a ghost, masquerading in false skin. A child playing dressup and trying to live up to an ideal. They never looked at her like she would expect. No desire, no… wanting.

Deep in her heart she could admit to herself it’s sometimes how she wished they would...

Christine tried to shove all thoughts of it aside while lying alone in her bed at night, feeling the soreness of well used muscles and reviewing Hunter's manuals in her head. On some level it felt like a confirmation, a dose of reality. They were made for MC and not for me.

Other thoughts lingered. The second week after she’d arrived she’d written down every single thing she could remember from the game, hiding the journal deep in the back of her closet. Important events, anecdotes, cards and as much of the main story as possible.

The plot of the game, she was derailing it. At this point in time she should be trying to get to Onychinus, bugging Rafayel to get her into the N109 Zone and meeting Jeremiah. Hat Island, the Nest… EVER and the aether core. She hadn’t opened the sealed box, hadn’t shown Zayne the contents or anyone else. But… she didn’t have to, right? She knew Sylus wasn’t behind the explosion in the Bloomshore District, knew that it was far more likely to be EVER or some other bad actor. She flinched when she saw the notice that Hat Island was still closed, hands twisting and guilt building.

Truthfully, in the quiet parts of her heart, she was so tempted to get things back on track. She wanted to meet Sylus as the girl who had been happy to pull for his cards and delighted by his presence. The world felt incomplete without him and Caleb. Yet the truth was, despite all her training, Christine wasn’t a fighter. Willingly putting herself into the path of the Wyrmlord? Ridiculous.

And as for Caleb, she hadn’t seen him since that day in the cemetery. She thought of him, holding his necklace and watching the light reflect off it in quiet moments, hoping he was okay.

Another thought lingered. Sylus… Their first meeting. Terrifying. She didn’t even want to contemplate being strangled, hauled to a mysterious base and forced to try to resonate for three days straight. MC really was a nicer person than her, that was some friendship ending behavior if there ever was some. Even though she would know the why behind it, if anything like that happened… she wasn’t honestly sure she would recover.

In truth, what really stopped her was simple. Fear.

Sylus would know. There was no way he would be unaware like the others. In the hospital room he had only been a presence barely felt, but the moment she met his eyes, the second their aether cores connected… it would all be over. What he would do was anyone's guess. She caught sight of Mephisto often, each time her breath would stall and her skin would grow clammy, Sylus’ presence felt even at a distance. They’d cross paths eventually, she knew it. But for now… while she had the time… getting stronger seemed to be the better option.

-----

At the end of the month all her hard work had finally paid off, Captain Jenna assigning her her first real world patrol for the following week. It was a patrol for a baby Hunter, a public district with strong flux stabilizers. The chances of anything happening were in the negatives. Still… She texted each man, nerves high, and gently squeezed Caleb’s necklace. She was doing it and she could hardly believe it.

Her phone buzzed with a hail of notifications in quick succession.

Rafayel: congrats cuutttiiiieeeee!!!

Rafayel: we should go celebrate

Rafayel: night out on the town

Zayne next, his messages much more subdued.

Zayne: Congratulations Miss Hunter. We should celebrate all your hard work.

In her next chat:

Xavier: congrats partner excited 2 B working with U again

Christine flopped back on her bed and smiled, tears beading at the corner of her eyes. Quietly she spoke aloud. “I hope you can be proud of me MC…” She pulled up Caleb’s necklace and gently pressed it to her forehead, an action she had slowly built in honor of the woman now gone.

Suddenly her phone dinged again, a group chat notification popping up. She blinked at it in surprise and read:

#1 Hunter’s Group Chat

Rafayel: already know yur gonna want all of us miss bodyguard

Rafayel: might as well plan something together

She blinked, startled, watching in surprise as more messages came through. How did Rafayel have everyone's number? A new thought shivered through her. Had they all been… talking to each other? She flopped backwards on the bed, clutching the phone tightly. It made sense of course. Zayne and Xavier had both witnessed her be suicidal, at least from their perspective. As far as each of them knew, she was an amnesiac who was way too trusting, way too naive about the world and the people in it. That they evidently decided to stay in contact made her want to slap herself. The coordinated times they came to her apartment… the way they each seemed to slot into helping her with specific things. Was she touched? Annoyed? Worried?

Yet still, they clearly didn't like each other. The separation of their times and the sparsity of their interactions the few times they all crossed paths stark. That they would spend time together now…

Zayne: Indeed. Is there anything specific you would like to do to celebrate?

Xavier: should we go out for hot pot

She stared at her phone as her heart ached, tears slipping slowly down her face as she hesitantly typed out a response. This was her life now, not MC’s. She had to stop living as a ghost. To that end, if these men were going to be her friends then she had to give more of herself, more opportunities for them to know the real her, at least a bit.

Me: I’d like that but if we could

Christine slowly sucked in a deep breath and let it out, tapping away. MC would never want to do shit like this…

Me: Would you guys be willing to come to a planting class with me?

Me: The department store near me hosts sessions on making terrariums on the weekends

Me: And i’d like to get some greenery for the apartment too

She dropped her phone down onto her chest and rolled over, clutching Artsy Birb tightly as anxiety roared. In a daze she stared around MC’s room, the still covered mirror mocking her. Even a month in, she couldn’t stand the sight of a stranger's face…

Buzzing on her chest, her heart thudded.

Xavier: plants R great

Xavier: lets do it

Zayne: That sounds nice. I need something else to go in my office besides my jasmine plant.

Rafayel: sure thing

Rafayel: gonna make the best terrariums

She huffed a laugh as Rafayel promptly sent them a Moments Board, a feature similar to a Pinterest Board.

Rafayel: planning time

Rafayel: cant show up like idiots and embarrass our hunter

Her chest eased, fingers coming up to rub at her sternum in relief as she opened the board, Rafayel already placing references in a surprisingly ordered manner. Zayne’s icon was at the top adding a link to the store and the plants available while Xavier was listing the plants that worked best in their apartments.

A pause and a breath. Then, a crack. She sobbed then, hard, shoulders heaving as something in her ripped open and bled. Christine couldn’t name the rush of emotions, burying herself in her blankets and crying. I'm sorry MC, I'm so sorry I took this from you.

Shakily she typed.

Me: Thank you, all of you

Thank you so much….

------

They made a plan for that weekend, before her actual patrol shift would start. Silly planting class booked and the Moments Board filled. She checked in on it as the week progressed, smiling as their little quirks each emerged. Zayne was clearly eyeballing some sort of enclosed terrarium, his notes neat and tidy, references equally ordered. He had lists on preferred acidity and humidity, sunlight and nutrient requirements. Rafayel or Xavier had also stepped in to leave him notes, a few of them (probably Rafayel) pointing out the colour balance of all things.

Xavier’s corner was a wide swath of aesthetic pictures of succulents. She stared at them in surprise. It clicked as she zoomed in on them. Were these all from photos he’s taken? 200 years on earth, he truly had to have seen so much. She wished desperately that they could talk about it, honestly and truthfully. What was it like to travel through space? To live through the jump in technology and the changes in society? He too had notes, some from Zayne about root depth and some from Rafayel about plant heights.

Rafayel's corner shocked her the most. She had expected chaos and then been embarrassed for her type casting of him. She should know him better by now. He clearly had a process. References gathered and labelled, notes compiled alongside them and sectioned into clear headings. It was organized and easy to read, the clear focus points and goals outlined along with several sketches of what he was planning. It made sense as she looked at it, similar art boards common in her old job when speaking to the artists on her team. He too had notes from the others, mostly about liking his designs.

Christine had gone all out. References images were vomited all over her corner, lists upon lists of plants shown. She was still debating between an open or closed terrarium, the shape of the container and the substrate inside. She was determined to be prepared for both. Their comments for her had been kind and teasing, the warmth in them made her heart hurt once more.

The day arrived sooner than she expected, anticipation having her dressed and ready long before any of them were supposed to arrive. For the first time in weeks she decided to go as herself. Large sweater on with comfy jeans underneath, she skipped the vanilla perfume and makeup, tying her hair up and practically vibrating with excitement. She was probably going to get dirty anyway, no need to dress nicely. A knock at her door had her hurrying to the entrance, Xavier leaning there with sleepy blue eyes.

“Morning…”

She ushered him in, his presence now familiar after countless hours spent at work and in the evenings. He watched her with an amused smile as she buzzed around, mouth running a mile a minute. “Good morning Xavier! How did you sleep? I saw your Moments Board. I loved all the references you posted, did you take them yourself?” She led him to her kitchen already halfway to her kettle unthinkingly before he spoke up.

“Make sure you put in more water for the others.”

Christine flushed, a little nervous laugh bubbling past her lips. Oops! Her door knocked before she could get embarrassed, Rafayel on the other side.

“Cuuutttiiieee!” Despite telling all the boys to wear older clothes he was dressed to impress, a sharp dark coat and jeans, it made him look striking. Similarly, she’d noticed Xavier was also dressed quite nicely. She blinked as it registered, returning his smile warmly and urging him inside.

“Good morning Rafayel! How was the drive?”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh and pouted. “Awful, no one knows how to drive in this city.” She chuckled as he followed her back to the kitchen, his expression creasing slightly as he spotted Xavier. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” The hunter and artist seemed relatively content in each other's presence, leaving Christine to rush back to the door as a final knock sounded.

Zayne gave her a polite nod, stepping just barely into the threshold and shaking off his coat, breakfast for all of them in hand. “Good morning.”

“Morning Zayne!” They’re all here! She was breathless with excitement, unthinkingly half hopping back to the kitchen with the food to quickly lay it before them all. She missed the fond looks over her head as she grabbed plates and cutlery, half of them getting chopsticks and the other half getting forks. I really should fix the dish situation in this house.

Zayne followed her in sedately, nodding to the other two men and dividing out the food as he watched her make them all tea. “Someone is excited this morning.”

Christine grinned, heart nearly bursting. For the first time in this world she was doing something for herself. No thinking of MC. No thinking of the game… nothing. She was just going to live today as Christine. Of course she was ecstatic, of course she could barely contain herself. “Very!” She promptly squeezed herself into the final seat between Xavier and Rafayel as Zayne took the one on the corner. “Did you guys all finalize your designs?” Quickly she seized the jian bing brought for her and took a large bite, chewing voraciously as Rafayel chuckled, tablet out and laid on the table before her.

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you but I have a fantastic plan.”

Xavier gave him a deadpan look. “I’d hope so since you’re the resident artist.”

Rafayel's soft little huff in response made her chuckle as she handed Zayne the soy milk for his youtiao, the fried dough sticks something she had also become terribly fond of within the last month. Zayne offered her one as he spoke. “I have a plan for a closed terrarium system.” He gestured to the tablet, thanking Rafayel quietly as the artist slid it over. “Here.” She blinked down, eyes widening in shock as the other two men also leaned over her. Unlike them she knew Zayne could draw, remembered it from his 4* cards but still…

Where before there had only been references images and notes, there were now several sketches uploaded, the accuracy in them striking, akin to architectural diagrams.

“Woah…”

The other two clearly agreed, the lemurian turning accusing eyes to the doctor. “Why didn’t you say you could draw?!”

Zayne shrugged and flushed. “I am not very artistic, planning however, I can do.”

“Who told you that?” Two toned eyes went from the page to the doctor and back. Quietly, almost too quiet for her to hear he whispered. “Humans really do stomp out talent.”

She pretended to not have caught his words, smiling at Zayne warmly. “It’s very impressive.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled again, turning to Xavier with a raised brow. “What about you?”

“I’ll decide when we get there. I do have two ideas though.” He quietly munched on his congee and pointed to two highlighted designs, all three of them nodding along. They were striking, one self contained, planned like a solar system, the other a star open to the air.

She turned to Rafayel last, head quirked and waiting. He simply chuckled lightly and tapped the top of her hand once. “Nu-uh. No spoilers.”

Christine rolled her eyes but accepted his answer, scarfing down the rest of her breakfast as they spoke around her. She waited impatiently while they finished, catching amused looks as she urged them out the door and down the elevator, the four of them spilling out onto the street and into the parking lot.

Rafayel corralled them this time, his vehicle coming into view. They’d already agreed in advance that he would be the driver, his luxury SUV better than Zayne’s Audi for space. She was already near the driver's passenger door as he unlocked it, climbing inside and buckling herself in before anyone could say anything. More amused looks but she didn’t care. Nothing was going to ruin today.

The trip to the store was quick, parking smooth, and even the lines of people walking around felt manageable. Inside the greenhouse she was assaulted with humidity, the deeply grounding scent of earth and plants. Christine inhaled happily, hands clenched tightly together as they came to surround her. She beamed up at them all. “Thank you guys again for today.”

Xavier shook his head, amused. “We haven’t even done anything yet.”

“The fact that you were all willing to come is enough.” She missed their shared looks of concern as she hurried to the class section, greeting the woman waiting there enthusiastically. “Good morning!” She was younger, hair a vibrant beautiful shade of pale blue that had Christine immediately gasping, words leaving her mouth in a rush. “Oh your hair is gorgeous!” Today was her day which means she gets to compliment whoever she wants, fear shoved aside for the first time in ages as she let herself not ask “what would MC do?”.

The woman blinked and then blushed, tucking strands behind her ear as she let out a soft laugh. “Oh, thank you!” Her eyes widened as the three men came up behind her. “Uhm, are you guys the ones booked under Mr. Li?”

Zayne stepped forward and nodded politely. “Yes, that’s us.”

“Right this way then please.” She gestured for the men to proceed her. “I’m Xiao Mai and I'll be helping you all today. We have a few more people coming today but since you’re all here early you can get a head start picking your plants and bowls.”

Christine was back to nearly vibrating, hands twisting together in her sweater as she followed them. Xiao Mai fell into step beside her as the three men moved ahead.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard before smiling and matching the other woman's soft brown eyes. “Christine. It’s lovely to meet you.” She offered her hand unthinkingly, remembering too late that a bow was far more common in Linkon. To distract she spoke in a rush, gently shaking her hand. “Sorry, I’m just so excited to be here today.”

The gardener grinned as they moved closer to the tables full of digital catalogues. “I can tell, you’re practically sparkling, it's impressive.” She flushed again, nervously glancing away before meeting Christine’s eyes once more. “Would you… maybe… uh want to trade numbers? I love talking about plants and well, we could… talk about them?” She stuttered, one hand twisting her hair while the other held out her phone awkwardly.

“Oh!” Was she making a friend? One not connected to the game? She was delighted, beaming warmly at the other woman and fumbling for her phone. “Yes, I would really-”

A body interspersed between them, Xavier sliding smoothly into that space and corralling her with his presence towards the table where both Zayne and Rafayel were watching with blank looks. “You should be picking out your plants while you can. You don’t want all the good ones to be taken, right?”

Christine blinked, brain immediately honing back in on the task at hand. “Of course.” She went to look around his bulk for Xiao Mai but the woman had turned around, walking hurriedly over to the entrance as new people arrived. For a moment Christine paused, suspicion forming as she slowly looked up into Xavier's face. He stared back, angelic, mild, warm…

Hmmmm…

She let it go, folding back in amongst the boys as Rafayel immediately took her full attention by pointing to all the plants that hadn’t been listed on the online store. Christine pushed her uneasiness aside. Today was her day.

------

The planting class was as fun as she had hoped. The feel of earth in her hands, the tremble of delicate roots and the bright greenery. Gently she petted the leaves of the succulents she had picked, smiling quietly to herself. The boys had all outdone themselves, each of their terrariums stunning in their own way, though Rafayels was truly a show stopper. A mix of vibrant foliage and careful planning, he managed to make his terrarium look like it was on fire on a bed of blue moss, like the ocean at sunset. He’d preened as the rest of the attendees gathered around, snapping pictures and congratulating him. Xiao Mai had even gotten her manager, the older man begging to allow the photos to be used in promotional material. When he had realized the man in front of him was “The Rafayel”? Well. Christine would remember that face for a while.

In comparison the rest of them looked like children fumbling with dirt. Still, as she stared at Zayne’s carefully constructed self contained ecosystem and Xavier's little solar system, she decided she loved them all. Hers was simple. A dash of bright colours and easy to care for plants, cozily tucked into a large bowl. She smiled as she stared at it.

“That was fun!” Rafayel came up along her side, staring down at her terrarium fondly. “Thanks for the suggestion, cutie.” He wiggled the coupons he’d gotten for each of them for his terrarium, beaming. “And look! We can also get whatever we want for free!”

Zayne was on her other side, eyeing the artist with exasperation. “Indeed. Do casual outings often turn into photoshoots for you?”

A roll of pink and blue, the artist simply shoved a coupon at the doctor. “Details shmetails.” Bending he spoke to her. “He’s just sad his didn’t get us any free stuff.”

Zayne's sigh was loud.

Christine snorted out a soft laugh and gently took her piece of paper. “Thank you Rafayel.” To Zayne and Xavier then. “And you guys too, that really was fun.”

Xavier gave her a nod, hand tapping against his plant's bowl. “The staff said we could leave these here while we shop, shall we?”

She nodded eagerly, stalling slightly as she looked around. Where was…?

Zayne was at her side once more, blocking her view. “Shall we?”

“Oh, of course!”

She hid her brief disappointment at the lack of blue hair in the room before following the men out into the store proper.

It was absolutely bizarre to have all three of them with her, buzzing around in the plant store with varying degrees of interest. Christine eyeballed the palms as Zayne quietly inspected a citrus tree with the sort of rigor she would expect from him. A small, secret smile was curling his lips as he carefully compared it against the bonsai on the table over. With a smile she left him to it, moving deeper into the store, head swivelling as she contemplated just what to add to her apartment. She had completely lost sight of Xavier. The man had immediately disappeared into the aisle full of pots, no doubt thinking about the plants in his home he’d soon have to give new homes to. Rafayel was deep in the midst of the flowers, his phone out and snapping pictures. References perhaps? She watched him for a moment and smiled to herself. It was nice.

Deeper and deeper she moved through the lush stands and shelves, fingers running tentatively over soft leaves and crisp flowers. Christine definitely wanted something lush, something tropical. Back home in Canada, the sheer lack of sunlight in the winter had made maintaining such plants a huge struggle, not to mention the lack of humidity in her home province had turned her into a warrior with a humidifier. Worst still, she’d frozen her doors and windows shut more than once in her desperate attempts to create the correct environment. She had fought for ages and ages to nurture her single, lone banana tree with the sort of vigor reserved for battling an army. And yet, as she moved, it was the sight of a small pine that made her heart ache deeply. Gently she felt the texture of it, this strange piece of home that seemed so out of place in this high tech world. She’d never seen one in a pot before, too used to the towering trees of her childhood and the smell of them from the forests by her home.

Unaware of the people around her she stood there and smiled, warmth curling as she slowly inspected the pot.

“That’s a pretty unique plant, huh?”

A voice, male, strange. She blinked and turned, a man at her back with a gentle smile. He was tall, thin, with brown eyes and brown hair. He had a slight flush to his cheeks as he watched her nervously, hands pressed together as he rocked on his heels and pointed with his chin to the pine. “You definitely don’t see many of those around here.” Behind him she could see a few other men, watching eagerly and encouragingly.

For fuck sakes. She wasn’t mad at him for shooting his shot, but it boggled her that he was doing it while she was dressed in the biggest, most oversized outfit in the world. MC really did have a face that would draw anyone in, even when she had a messy bun and no makeup. She smiled politely and nodded, fingers tightening. “Yeah, this guy probably won’t do too well in this pot if it’s anything like the plants from back home.” He perked up immediately while she mentally cursed herself. Being nice was engrained in her, beaten into her subconscious after years of social conditioning. She had just given him an opening. Why, why WHY?!

“Oh! Where are you from?”

“Uh… the north…” Geography was something that neither Xavier or anyone else had covered in her hunter retraining lesson, she had no idea where Linkon was located geographically.

He nodded eagerly however, edging more into her space as he brought his hands to clasp at his front nervously. Poor guy… “That's really cool! I’d uh- love to hear more about it? I’m Ren.” He stuck his hand out and nearly bumped the pot out of her arms in his rush. His look of alarm was almost comical as she quickly shifted her grip and settled the pot more firmly in her grasp. Hand shake? How intimate.

Christine hated situations like this. He seemed nice enough, was handsome enough, and wasn’t even giving her serial killer vibes, she was just a certified male avoider. “Ah…” She forced another smile.

Before she could speak another voice joined in, annoyed and low. “Cutie! Did you see those flowers over there? They smell terrible!” Rafayel was suddenly at her side, hand slinging casually around her shoulder and tucking her against his side. He inspected the man across from her with a lazy frown. “And you are…?” Don’t…

“Uh!” Ren looked deeply uncomfortable, gaze flickering from the artist's grasp on her to the plants surrounding them as he shuffled. “S-sorry… I was just…”

Another presence, it leaned into her, tall and intimidating. Xavier didn't say anything, just watched quietly as he held his pots and pressed close.

Oh my god… she cringed, body hunching as both men stared at the stuttering mess now across from them with twin looks of disgust.

Ren seemed to rally, eyes shifting nervously from one man to the other. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had a… boyfriend?” The question at the end made her mentally sigh as she gave him a small smile.

“I don't actually-” Rafayel squeezed her and Xavier loomed, the message clear on both their faces. Stop talking.

It's not like she wanted to date Ren, she hadn't even been going to give him her number, but something about their behavior was making her hackles rise. Today was her day. She was positive Xavier had scared off Xiao Mai, and now here they were, doing it again. It reminded her of her brother, hovering and hissing like a cat at strange boys in her stead during school dances and club meetings.

Ren blinked, confused, eyes slipping from the two very different looking presences at her side and back down to her. “Oh, uh…”

“She is, however, busy today.” Zayne, his eyes so icy she could see the exact moment Ren lost his confidence. He quaked at whatever face the doctor was making, bowing his head and quickly stuttering an apology before fleeing!

She sighed heavily as the man practically sprinted. “You know, you guys didn't have to terrify him that much…”

Rafayel let out a grunt of annoyance, fingers smoothing over his wrist as he half pouted from where he released her “Why not? Did you want to talk to him? You had the whole “I have a boyfriend option” and everything and you said you didn't? Cutie whhyyyy?"

“Well I don't.” Christine shook her head, staring down at the pine in her hands absentmindedly. “And my no should be enough.”Her mouth thinned, fingers tightening. She… didn’t want them to have to come save her. She wanted the world to be a better place instead, wanted to be able to go out alone, say no, and have it respected. She flinched at the thought and sighed. “Anyway. Nothing wrong with someone shooting their shot, that takes a ton of courage. And who knows… maybe dating would be good for me?” It was something her therapist had suggested back home. She’d installed Love and Deepspace on her phone instead. The irony of that was not lost on her. Unaware of the sudden intensity of the men around her she continued. “But I can't do that if you guys are acting like a hoard of big brothers and chase everyone away.” She blinked as silence descended, finally looking up and catching the expressions on their faces. Oh no…

Rafayel looked betrayed. “B-brother?!” He reared back like she'd slapped him, arms crossing tightly across his chest. “I'm not your…!” He let out a vaguely distressed noise.

Xavier interrupted, blue eyes icy as he tensed. “You don't need to date people.” He was glaring after the group of departing men fiercely.

Oh boy… he was in full on jealousy mode, the storm cloud over his head suddenly stark. She blinked. It was unexpected. He had been fine with Rafayel and Zayne, so much so she had attributed his behavior in the game to simple drama created by the writers. He’d never seemed jealous at the office either besides occasionally eying Nero. So why…?

Rafayel was continuing to mutter, voice high. “Forget that! How could you think-?! Brother-!!! Cutie-!!! ”

Her fishie was going to pass out, the insult of her words clearly burrowing deep. Zayne alone stayed quiet. She glanced at him and then froze. Intense, there was no other way to term how he was watching her, something deeply contemplative and calculated rushing behind his eyes.

Xavier interrupted her thought as he pressed closer to her side, forcing her to crane her neck to stare up at him as he pouted. It was like something in him had cracked. Like he was… worried? “You don't need other guys, right? You have us and we're enough, aren't we?”

You manipulative little shit. She sent him a deadpan look and shrugged. “Maybe what I'm missing is a woman in my life.”

Rafayel practically quaked, elegant fingers adjusting his coat. “Women?! Do you…. Prefer women? Is that why…? Before…?”

She nearly rolled her eyes at his words but it was Xavier corralling her backwards into Zayne that seized her attention. “You don't need a woman either. You have us.”

She bumped into the man behind her, feeling as Zayne's free hand came up to gently cradle her elbow as blue eyes bored into hers. Christine was suddenly, very aware of the three presences surrounding her. Xavier at her front, looming and frowning, Rafayel at her side, pressing and muttering and then Zayne against her back, solid and quiet. For the first time in years as she flicked her eyes to each of their faces, inhaled the scent of each of their bodies she felt it, subtle but assured. Her heart fluttered.

Her eyes bugged at the reaction, hand up and pressing to her chest as she wrestled with the sensation she hadn’t felt since she’d lost the Love and Deepspace game in her migration, hadn't felt for a real man since she was 19 and new to the world. The fear she expected was present too, thundering like she was prey amongst predators. It made her feel sick. It was toxic.

She refocused as Xavier promptly caught her hand and tugged it from her chest, squeezing it firmly. “Do you really need other people?” Let go of me…

Rafayel at her side was huffing, half leaning forward as he frowned down at her. “That’s not important! Do you really think of us as your brothers?!” Oh she had truly scandalized him.

She rolled her eyes this time for real and heaved a huge breath, smile forced where she bent her lips. “No Rafayel, I don't think of you guys as my brothers.”

At her back she felt Zayne shift and then slowly, subtly his hand moved, pressed to her hip gently. She stiffened immediately, suddenly terribly aware of the feel of him at her back, the heat and strength. It was a casual move yet possessive. It made her heart positively gallop. Stop it… please…

Christine could feel her cheeks heating as Xavier suddenly tugged on her hand, fingers sliding along her palm and twining between her own. It felt unbearably intimate. She was reeling, breath shallowing, scrambling to bring her thoughts back into alignment. Either unaware or completely aware and deciding to add fuel to the fire, Rafayel leaned close, mouth next to her ear.

Her face flamed as he whispered. “Good. Don’t forget that, yeah?” Suddenly she was catapulted back into her memories, to lonely nights in her bedroom with nothing but her, Secret Times and a vibrator. Mortifying! Absolutely mortifying. She breathed hard, the sound high and thready before she ducked out of the circle of their bodies, pine tree now clutched like a shield against them.

Why did I remember that?! She blinked as she watched both Rafayel and Xavier smirk. Xavier was far more subtle about it but it was there. Funny, they thought they were so funny. They thought her reaction was cute…. She huffed deeply, struggling. I can’t panic here, I can’t panic here! Her heart would not stop pounding, fear and… desire, a toxic mess.

She caught the exact moment they realized she was losing herself and not taking their teasing as a joke, twin expressions of horror immediate as she struggled, the pot in her arms trembling. Zayne blocked her from the view of the rest of the garden, his voice low. “Breathe.”

She obeyed, head dipping as she hugged the pine and inhaled its scent. Home… it reminded her of home… Christine refused to cry. God she wanted to go home. This was supposed to be her day. She knew they hadn’t meant anything by it, knew they were teasing, and by god, any other woman would have probably found it funny and played along. But she couldn’t. She JUST COULDN’T.

She turned then, voice stiff. “Sorry guys, if you don't mind I saw some pretty cute plants over there. Be back in a bit.”

She fled. Christine was an adult. It had been years since everything had initially happened. Why was she still acting like this? Why couldn't she just be normal? They had gone out of their way for her all day, all month, and what? A few joking words and a hand pressed to hers and she was lost?!

I wish I could go back to therapy. The thought was loud in her head as she walked swiftly through towering shelves of plants until she found herself deep in the tropical section. She was blessedly alone next to a large water feature, the sound of it soothing, relaxing. There she sat, breathing deep and forcing herself to calm.

Stop it… The mantra in her head was loud as she worked through her breathing exercises, flexing her fingers and toes, smelling the pine and the flowers. No one's going to hurt you… Why did they unsettle her so much? Was it because she knew them? Was it because she found them beautiful? Was it the nature of the game and the world, the pressure of an assumed role? Or was she simply that weak?

Footsteps, she hunched as they sounded, smoothing out her pants and cuddling the pot a little harder as she pretended to look at the Birds of Paradise around her.

“Christine.” It was Xavier, head bowed, hands pressed together, looking all the world like he was coming to his death sentence. “Can I sit?”

She nodded, scooting slightly to give him space.

For a moment they sat in silence while he stared at his hands before he spoke quietly. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that.”

She shrugged. “Xavier, you were kidding. I'm sorry I can't take a joke.”

His expression tensed, something deeply unhappy in the lines of his face. He was mulling something over as he stared at her. Quietly he whispered. “Are you sure I was joking?” Before she could unpack that he shifted, staring around at the plants and gently feeling the closest ones leaves. He looked like a prince like that. Hallowed in warm light and surrounded by greenery. “I made you uncomfortable and I shouldn't have done that. I…” He stopped, compressed his lips and continued speaking. “Since your accident, you've been jumpy. Really jumpy. We never talked about that first night. The one with Zayne in your kitchen.”

She paled. And we're not talking about it here Xavier!!

He seemed to agree, quietly continuing. “You don't have to talk to me about any of that if you don't want to but…” He breathed deep. “We all worry.”

So they have been talking to each other. It felt like a blow, like her anxiety given fuel for reality. Christine didn't speak, just nodded.

“Even still, it's not my job to keep people away from you and I shouldn't have done that. I just want…” He struggled, vulnerability stark as he tried to tell her what he thought, the why behind his actions.

She cut him off quietly. “Xavier.”

Big blue eyes blinked at her while she met his gaze. His jealousy was often played for laughs in the game but Christine knew better. Xavier had spent hundreds of years being forgotten, over and over, wearing identities like a fractured mask. He'd abandoned everything for his MC and for the chance to save her. Failed and then failed again, a crew of people who blamed him and a planet now dead. That he wanted to be seen, wanted to be enough so desperately… Xavier had no bond or soul shared, no fate woven. He simply chose in every lifetime with no guarantee of being chosen back. How could you not develop some unhealthy coping mechanisms with events like that?

“It really is okay. I just got a little overstimulated okay?” With a deep breath she reached out for his hand and waited, watching the surprised cast to his expression. She refused to keep being controlled by this. That they couldn't touch her shoulder or her hand, that she couldn't accept anything more than a casual pat on the back or, god forbid, a hug. She didn't want to live that way anymore.

His fingers slid between hers once more but this time she settled into it. Feeling the warmth and the calluses, the strength in them. She relaxed, sliding her eyes closed as she smelled her pine and felt his heat. “I appreciate all of you, you know that?” She squeezed his fingers. “And I appreciate you Xavier. I'm sorry I keep acting this way. I wish I could stop.”

He squeezed her hand back gently, his breathing a calming metronome. “Would it help to talk about it?”

Her face scrunched before relaxing. If only I could. “Maybe one day.”

He seemed to accept that, the two of them sitting quietly. It was the sound of voices approaching that at last spurred them from that moment.

Blinking her eyes open she sighed, catching him staring at her with a soft expression. “Shall we? We still got coupons to spend and I want to find a banana tree too.”

Xavier nodded, pulling her to her feet and reluctantly releasing her hand as she stood, shifting the pot to her other arm. They hadn't really been sitting long, making their way deeper into the tropical section. There she could see both Zayne and Rafayel, the former holding a small citrus tree and the latter pacing with a worried expression.

At the sight of her, Rafayel rushed to her side. “Cutie! I'm sorry are you-?”

She cut him off gently. “I’m okay Rafayel I swear. Have you picked any plants?”

He blinked at her as she took the wind out of his sails, deflating slightly as he stared down at her nervously, trying to read her expression. Evidently realizing she didn't want another heavy conversation he sighed ever so slightly before switching tones. “How could I pick anything out without my resident plant expert? I need your help, Miss Bodyguard.”

She smiled weakly, thankful for his willingness to indulge her and followed him as he began to chatter, talking about the different plants that would work in his studio.

Zayne was watching her. Christine smiled at Rafayel and followed him, deeply aware of assessing hazel eyes. He, however, seemed content to wait until they left the store, until they were alone for whatever he wanted to say.

The rest of the plant shop passed in a blur, banana, terrarium and pine all bought and accounted for. They loaded back into the SUV, dropping all the plants off at the apartment to keep them safe before heading back out to hot pot. She'd never actually been so she was excited.

By the time they left the apartment she was truly settled again, the event pushed from her mind and simply enjoying their company once more. Hot pot was an experience. Xavier happily explained the different chopsticks, dipping sauces, cooking times and how it all worked. It was fun all cooking together and the taste was divine.

Back home she handed each of them their plants as she led them to the door. There she leaned, smiling slightly as they got dressed in their outerwear, or in Xavier's case, simply folded it all over his arms. Christine had been thinking about this all night since they’d left the restaurant. With a deep breath she approached Rafayel first as he spoke.

“That was fun today, even if I had to spend nearly half of it with the rest of you I'd do it again-” He stopped as she got closer, eyes so wide she could see herself reflected in them. She made sure his grip on his terrarium was firm before she leaned up, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a solid hug.

He melted, head dipping and pressing to her shoulder immediately. It made her chest hurt how clearly relieved he was by the action. “Thank you so much for everything today.” She squeezed him once, firmly, feeling the shift of muscles beneath his coat as his breath fanned lightly against her throat. She stepped back, smiling and patting his shoulder as he stared at her in a daze.

Next she turned to Xavier, reaching for him too. Unlike Rafayel he was better prepared, shifting his pot so he could open his one arm and let her tuck against his chest. Ozone and cedar she breathed it in lightly and squeezed him firmly.

Zayne was the most prepared, having placed his terrarium and citrus tree on the ground before she turned to him. She chuckled, walking forward and pulling the doctor down into a hug. He held her back firmly, something almost desperate in the brief tightening of his hands on her back before he released her.

She stepped back and smiled at them all. “Seriously you guys. Thank you. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. I just know, I'll crush that patrol on Monday.”

More slang, they hardly even flinched at it, all nodding all supportive.

“We will partner.” She chuckled at Xavier lightly.

“Text me when you two get home safe okay?” This she said to Zayne and Rafayel, the two men both nodding, the artist with a positively glowing expression on his face.

“You got it cutie!! I expect updates on your patrol. A whole play by play.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded, watching them all file out the door with a wave. Christine sighed once the door slid shut, staring around the apartment and at her plants. Slowly she moved them into their new homes. Thoughts lingering quietly.

So they've noticed. Well… of course they would notice. How couldn't they?

The thought was scary. She touched the pine tree and relaxed, leaning her head on her hand and admiring it as she sat on the couch. One day at a time.

Her phone buzzed, texts that they had gotten home safe warming her heart. That she had managed to escape Zayne's scrutiny and delay whatever conversation he'd wanted to have was nothing short of a miracle, but she was going to see him for their workout on Monday. He was just biding his time.

She groaned at the thought, flopping on the couch and burying her face in the cushions. Christine would deal with that when the time came. Until then, she wanted to remember this day. The warmth… the care… the feeling of being wanted and… seen.

Chapter Text

Monday arrived with the speed of a bullet train, pancaking Christine beneath nerves. Zayne had been forced to cancel their morning workout for an emergency surgery and she was honestly deeply grateful for the reprieve. Her first patrol… She was tense the entire time even as she tried not to gape around like a tourist as her and Xavier walked around Azure Square. She’d often wonder when playing the game just what a hunters day really entailed. Well, it turned out to be a lot of boredom. They went from metaflux stabilizer to metaflux stabilizer, watches always on and scanning.

Christine nervously shifted, the weights of her pistols heavy with responsibility as Xavier shivered next to her. Even though it was boring, she was relieved. The second it stopped being boring all hell would break loose.

At her side she heard a huff, he was rubbing his hands and staring at her in confusion. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Huh?” She startled peeking at where he was shoving his hands under his armpits and shaking. “Oh! Sorry we can go stand inside for a bit? Will that help? Do you want my coat?”

He simply shook his head with a vaguely insulted look at her offer. “Don’t you feel it?”

She simply blinked at him slowly. “I can still feel my legs though…?”

With that he gave up, grabbing her arm gently and steering her into a cafe as people milled around them. “Why wouldn’t you be able to feel your legs?”

She squinted as she eyed his fluffy fringe. “Because it’s not that cold…?” Everyone here acted like a degree below zero was a catastrophe. Mentally she chuckled, happy for the sting of winter's last breaths, Linkon already warming to above freezing temperatures most days. It was bizarre for her. She was used to having winter from October until May. Out of the corner of her eye she smiled at Xavier, amused at his pink cheeks and soft frown. Poor thing, he would die if he ever had to come to my home city. The thought made her chest ache so she forced it aside, following him quietly.

Their day passed like that. Coffee shared, watches scanning and not a single wanderer in sight. Thank God!

At home she texted the other two men, updating them on her day in their group chat. It would be silly to have to type it all out twice, right? And maybe… she wanted them to become better friends…

Her phone buzzed, messages now pouring through.

Rafayel: so thats the glorious life of a hunter huh

Rafayel: sounds boring lol

She rolled her eyes so hard her head actually hurt. This guy….

Zayne: It’s better for a first day to be a calm one to better acclimate to a new role.

Zayne: Congratulations on your first successful shift Miss. Hunter

Rafayel: still boring but yeah

Rafayel: glad you didnt get pancaked by monsters

Rafayel: dun worry tho cutiieee youll get to shoot them next time

It was like Rafayel's message was an omen of things to come.

-------

The next day arrived bright and early. She hobbled out of bed and threw on her workout clothes with a groan. Gym in the mornings, it was hell. Christine never found it easier.

Zayne as always arrived looking fresh and awake, tight white shirt in place and water bottle ready. He nodded to her as she buzzed them both into the facilities, dropping his bag and bending into a stretch. After a month of this routine she followed, breathing deep as she mimicked his moves. However this morning was a bit different. She was deeply aware of him. She knew he had words, knew he had thoughts. It had been all over his face at the plant store and there was no way he wasn’t going to follow up.

Christine followed him through their strength routine, as always stunned at the sheer amount he could lift. Even after a month of hard work she had barely managed to add 5 extra pounds and even then she struggled. She was lucky MC had already been strong, muscular enough to lift over a hundred pounds on her own, it meant she wasn’t starting from scratch. Even still, she was a long way from hauling Zayne over her head.

It was as he was spotting her on the bench that he began to speak. “10 more please.” She huffed and nodded, sweat dripping as he spoke casually. “I’ve been wondering about something.”

“Mm-hmm?” She counted in her head, breath sawing painfully as she pushed the bar up, Zayne towering above her with a benign face.

“Your memories. The ones you still have. Are some stronger from different times in your life? For example, high school or college.”

“Whatdoyoumean?” The words came out in a rush as she exhaled, focus fracturing as she tried to listen to his words and keep proper form.

“Mind your grip.”

She adjusted her hands accordingly and glared at him.

He just barely offered her a nod and gestured for her to lift again. “I’m asking if you remember anything specifically traumatic happening.”

She fought not to freeze, mouth thinning. Christine wouldn’t insult him by asking why. He watched her reaction carefully as she set the bar down and slid out from underneath, crossing her arms and facing him with an angry furrow to her brow. “Does that matter?”

Zayne held still for a moment before coming and sitting on the bench at her side, water bottle out and offered to her. She took it and sipped gratefully, watching him from the corner of her eye nervously. At least they were alone. The gym never had other people at this time. “Would you allow me to forward a referral to the Akso outpatient therapy department? They have an excellent selection of practitioners. They specialize in many different types of therapy and topics. For example, CBT focused methods for grief counseling, post traumatic stress disorder or for those with histories of past sexual assault.”

She hunched.

He continued, “There would be no dissemination of information to me if that would be your worry and you can interview as many therapists as you'd like to see who'd fit you best. Additionally, the Hunters Association covers mental health services under their supplementary plans.”

Quietly, “Okay.” She had thought it would be good to go back. This, she could do. It was honestly a bit relieving, the idea of getting help. She'd written it off, partially due to the fact she would have to go through Zayne. He really shouldn't be my doctor. Maybe MC had been okay with having her primary care physician be her friend but the idea of having to go to Zayne for birth control or a breast exam made her want to fly into the sun. Pap smears? Never.

“Okay.” His agreement was easy, yet he didn’t stand, staying still, head bowed. Zayne hesitated again and then spoke softly. “You could also… if you feel comfortable, talk to me about it. Not as a doctor but, I hope as your friend.”

Fuuuccccckkkkk!!!!!

“Thank you Zayne. I appreciate that.” Trying to be more open, trying to desensitize herself she forced herself to reach out and pat his hand. He was still, staring down at her palm over his before he promptly flipped his hand, offering it to her again. The move was startling. His head was bowed, ears subtly red as she slowly lined up their palms and rested there.

Her chest was positively buzzing, heart thundering. She could feel his eyes on her but she would bet good money he had “Business Trip” eyes right now and she'd either combust or freak out if she saw that right now. This was literally an elementary school interaction. They weren’t even holding hands, more like she was comparing the size of hers to his, but her heart was acting like he was taking off his shirt and flexing. Christine stared at the size of his hand, the way his fingers and palm completely dwarfed hers.

In her past life she had been taller than MC, much less petit, most men barely bigger than herself. The world had felt a lot less scary then but she had also never felt… girly? She’d never really gotten to experience what it was like to be the small one in a relationship. Unless the guy was a powerlifter no one was going to give her a piggyback ride, and if she’d worn heels she’d dwarf half her dates. She stared at the width of his fingers and the veins in his wrist and blanched as heat curled and anxiety roared. I’m a goddamn pervert. A cardiovascular whore who's scared shitless. Do I have a thing for hands?!?!

Her face was red, she could feel it as she quickly pulled her fingers back and forced a smile. “Let’s keep going!” She jumped up and nudged him with her knee to get off the bench as she shuffled back under the bar. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him flex his fingers slowly before nodding and making his way back over to spot her. She stared at the bar in determination. I’m never going to be able to look at Zayne’s hands ever again.

The rest of their workout passed without incident but she couldn’t get the sensation out of her mind.

At the Hunter’s Association she moved in a daze, chugging coffee and going through her weapons checklist carefully. It was Xavier appearing beside her that finally startled her from her fugue state.

“Ready partner?” He smiled, blue eyes warm and ooohhhh. He had dimples. She was staring, a blush heating her cheeks again. Against her will her eyes drifted to his lips, they looked quite soft right? She’d always thought so in game too. She jerked, eyes widening in shock. Why is this happening to me?! She felt like she'd been possessed by the ghost of her fandom past, fanart and audios rushing through her brain, making her want to scream as he smiled angelicly, unaware.

She cleared her throat as his brow rose, spinning away and strapping her harness with slightly shaky fingers. “S-sure am!!” Holy goddamn shit! All it takes is them making you feel sorta safe and one hug huh!? You weak ass-. Christine berated herself in her head while she half quaked with fear, the razer thin sensation of desire and anxiety mixing confusingly. Body, why?! She hurried past him, grabbing the last pasty in the break room and promptly stuffing it into her mouth. “Lesh go!”

Patrol was a welcome distraction from the rush of her thoughts, focus honing in as she was determined not to become wanderer food. Did they eat people? She shook the thought aside as she checked yet another flux stabilizer with her watch, frowning as the signal wavered. Manuals in her head, she stared at the pattern. There had been 16 to measure, each indicating different energy levels from the Deepspace Tunnel. Some were benign. Common anomalies and splits in space time that would create unstable dimensional rifts. Through those, small, non violet wanderers could emerge. Like little strange animals.

It was the larger fluctuations and spikes that spelt trouble, the energy of something big enough to sustain a protofield. As she stared at the energy reading a chill raced down her spine. This sure looked like the pattern of something big. She snapped her watch to her mouth. “Xavier, I have strong readings in quadrant A6.”

“Coming.”

Too late. The thought zinged through her head as reality seemed to tear itself in half before her eyes, stomach swooping as gravity dragged. Manuals hadn’t covered the smell of it, ozone ripping and burning, decay and a flood of sulfur so thick she could taste it on her tongue. Pistols out she braced herself just as Xavier teleported to her side, the protofield stabilizing as a wanderer manifested.

In game, she had always assumed MC and her battle partner had been sent to wherever the wanderer was but no, they simply overlapped reality instead. The longer they stayed, the more they would materialize until they could leave the protofield completely and stay in reality. That was why the game had a stupid time limit to all its battles.

With gritted teeth her and Xavier were engulfed, reality bending once more as the protofield took over the plaza and everyone in it. Civilians were pulled in alongside them, it wasn’t clean like the game, it wasn't simple. Christine slid into the position she had practiced in the training room for hours on end, safeties off as the wanderers appeared in full at last. Manuals in her head again as she urged the people around her to take cover and get out of the way. A Fissionform, ranged, spindly, elite but not something boss ranked. Ferrum Obscurum, sickles for hands, it’d cut them in half in seconds if it closed the distance. In game, this combination would have been a breeze, in real life…

Xavier was already moving, a terrifying blur of light and speed that cut through the wanderer in seconds, heat bleeding from his evol in a wave as the sharp ring of light thundered through the space. He focused on the Ferrum, blocking and destroying them from getting close to her and the civilians.

Guns out, focus, fire. Christine fought not to zone out, awareness and adrenaline bleeding with startling speed as she aimed for the Fissionform, hitting true and cracking through the exterior plating. Holy shit, holy shit, holy GODDAMN SHIT! She was not prepared for this, not built for this! Sweat in her eyes as she dodged on instinct, the pull of gravity from the Fissionform as it threw debris at her. She repositioned with a roll, guns out again as the constant screech of the protofield rumbled against her evol.

Her skin felt like it was splitting, the unnamable energy in her chest burgeoning the longer they stayed. There were signs to look for if the protofield was stabilizing. Reality bleeding through the edges, the solidification of the original location over the protofield.

Something surged as the last of the wanderers disintegrated, relieved cries rising as Xavier appeared by her side, sweat slicked and breathing deep. “There’s more-”

His words cut off as the ground heaved, the heavy thud of stone hands pulling as a Golem dug its way out. She stared at it in shock. A rank, it shouldn’t be here. It was too strong for the metaflux stabilizers in place, it shouldn’t be possible!

The thought fractured as it roared, a black hole appearing, sucking and pulling. A civilian who had stood was getting dragged, his eyes wide with terror.

Christine moved before her brain could interpret her actions, seizing him with heaving muscles around the waist and shoving him beneath her weight as they were both pulled. Guns out, she aimed, weak spots and anatomical diagrams fuzzing in her head. Where was it?! Where-?!

Xavier was moving again from the corner of her eye. She had to be careful, she couldn’t hit him, they had practiced a pattern for each wanderer type, she had memorized them, she had-

There. Her aim was true once more, the monster staggering as she hit its weak point on its neck, Xavier immediately flashing by next, using the opening to dig deeper beneath his stony skin.

It happened in slow motion, his body, a graceful arc, the fuzz of gravity building once more. She couldn’t warn him, couldn’t do anything as he was flung, a stone manifesting and careening into his side with a thud. Light flashing before impact.

Christine felt her heart drop. Did that hit him? Is he-? The civilian beneath her was hysterical as she shoved him back towards safety and sprinted. Xavier! Where are you?! The white of his uniform was stark where he was already on his knees, sword out and pressed down as he fought to stand, a black hole keeping him in place.

Resonate. They were going to die if she didn’t. She was a liability right now, just a girl with some shitty guns. She needed to resonate. Christine reached into that space in her chest as she punched bullets into the golem, distracting it from her partner and attempting to destabilize it. She fought past her anxiety, wrestled deep into her chest and thought of Xavier and the people behind her. Resonate, you can do it just-!

The golem was standing over him, ignoring her with fists raised. He couldn’t teleport with the black hole, there were no do overs here! He’ll die, he’ll DIE! It split through her then, connection blazing strong as she threw her hand out on instinct, pulling from the other hunter with all the panic and fear roaring in her chest. A colossal sword fell from the sky, bright as the sun, splitting the golem in two in one move. It towered as Xavier half seized, red glowing around his neck. She stared, mouth splitting in shock, hands still glowing. It looked like Lightseekers resonance skill turned up to a thousand. It shouldn’t be possible to one shot a golem, they were the tankiest of all the wanderers, how could-?

Xavier was staring at it too, like he’d seen a ghost.

There was no time to contemplate, the protofield dissolving immediately as the wanderer powering it disintegrated, reality shimmering back into place with a loud groan. Training kicked in once more. “Xavier!” She was at his side, hand out and assessing, watch open. “Were you hit-?”

“No.” His voice was soft, the blinking of the red collar still stark against the skin of his throat. She stared at it and his dazed expression, the pale draw of his cheeks and the tremble in his hands. She’d had no control, just pulled from him with everything she had like a fucking idiot!

Into her watch she called for medical, crouching by his side as he suddenly heaved, body shaking. Evol overuse, goddammit, goddammit!!! She patted his back and ripped open the energy drinks they all carried, holding it to his lips carefully while he drank. The civilians behind her were also moving. Christine had to… she had to make sure they were okay too, right? She was panicking, hands shaking. What were the steps? What should I-?

She was clammy. Xavier almost just died. Oh my god he could have died and I would have watched him get squashed- Her stomach rolled.

The man she had shoved came up to her, dirt smeared on his front and hair askew. “Miss Hunter, are you two okay?”

It snapped her out of her shock, her voice unsteady as she tried desperately to inject reassurance and authority into it. “Yes, everything's fine. M-medical is on it’s way, please just stay in the area to be assessed by the team when they arrive,”

She was losing herself. Counting and wriggling her fingers and toes, she had to stay present. Xavier, his hand was cool where he reached up and gently patted hers, the touch brief. Their eyes met as he smiled at her again with a huff. “Good job partner.”

Christine blinked and then blinked again. “I am going to clobber you.” The words came out quietly, unthinkingly.

He laughed, the sound was so unexpected she jerked, staring at him as he smiled weakly, flopping onto his back on the ground.

-----

Cleanup passed in a blur, a rush of Otto’s and medical personnel, a tech team and officials all coming, questions upon questions upon questions as Xavier was left passed out in a chair at her side.

“How could such strong wanderers manifest here? The metaflux stabilizer-”

This fucking idiot from the Azure Square safety commision had asked Christine that 4 times and she was at her limit, smile stretched thin as she fought not to shake as her adrenaline came down. “Like I said, sir, I don’t know. We checked them over before we left for the day yesterday. You should ask the third shift team we relieved this morning.”

He blustered, chin quivering over his scraggly facial hair. “That’s not a good enough resp-!”

Oh my goooooddd why did even Hunter’s have to deal with people like this?! Christine had been one step away from crying for the last hour as her body caught up to the fact that it’d just been in a life and death situation. One more word from this guy's mouth and she was going to break down and either sob like a baby or kick the shit out of him. Jury was still out on which emotion would win.

A new voice broke in, strong and female. “Sir, we’ll be doing a proper investigation and file a report to you as soon as we can. The important thing is that the wander was taken care of without any damages and without any serious injuries.” Christine really might cry as Captain Jenna stepped in, smiling politely at the man and urging him away. She turned then to the two of them, expression softening. “Good job today.” She eyed the still passed out Xavier with a sigh. “You and your partner are both discharged for the rest of the evening. I expect a report on the incident on my computer by tomorrow afternoon, clear?”

Christine's voice was watery as she forced back a sniff. “Yes ma’am.”

Jenna sighed as she stared down at her partner. “He’s going to be out like that for a while, do you know anyone who could come take him home?”

Jeremiah would, if she had his number but since she didn’t… Christine checked her phone. Zayne would still be at work but Rafayel… To the captain she spoke calmly. “I’ll ask a friend…”

She nodded. “If not, order a taxi and get someone to help you haul him inside the Association building, he can sleep there.”

A salute and her and Xavier were alone once more. On shaky legs she dropped to a crouch, sighing loudly. Phone out she typed.

Me: Sorry to bother you Rafayel, are you free right now?

She shifted nervously as she waited, watching the steady rise and fall of Xavier’s chest meditatively. What a goddamn day.

A buzz, messages coming through.

Rafayel: for you cutie im always free

Rafayel: arent you supposed to be at work

Me: There was a wanderer incursion on my patrol with Xavier and I knocked him out by accident. Would you be free to come pick us up? I don’t think I can carry him into his apartment alone.

Rafayel: wow cuuutttiiieee what did he do lmao

Rafayel: ???

Rafayel: didnt know you were that violent

A pause, more messages pouring in.

Rafayel: anyway am i just a taxi to you

Rafayel: thats so mean

Rafayel: just leave him to snooze on the street

She sighed at the emote of artsy birb throwing its paint brush on the ground and pouting. I guess that probably was asking for a bit too much. One plant outing doesn’t mean they like each other. Christine went back to opening her apps, jaw clenched. She’d been taking public transit since she arrived in Linkon, she wasn’t even sure how to order a taxi. Was Uber a thing here?

The vibration of more messages had her blinking before abruptly her phone started ringing, Rafayel's caller ID taking over her whole screen. She picked up and spoke tentatively. “Uh, hello?”

The rustle of fabric was loud on the other end of the phone before his voice came through. “You know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, right?”

She breathed out a relieved sigh as she heard the sound of a vehicle starting. “I owe you big time.”

“Yeah yeah, grab me milk tea sometime, okay?” The sound of an engine roaring. “Send me your location, I’ll help you haul that lazy hunter home, but only if you promise to tell me why you knocked him out.”

She groaned and sat back on her butt with a thump, fingers up and in her hair. “I swear it was an accident.”

“Sssuuurrreeeee. See you soon, cutie.”

The call ended with a beep as she shared her location pin with him. Dazed she sat, the trembling in her limbs just barely kept at bay. It felt like seconds and hours all at once, a flashy red car pulling up to the scene and parking with a rumble. Rafayel hopped out, sunglasses on and lavender hair bright against the lights of the plaza as he made his way towards her.

“Hey there Miss Bodyguard.” He pulled the glasses down and eyed her and Xavier's unconscious form over the top. “Wow, this is quite the mess huh?”

Seeing him, hearing him, for some reason it was like a form of permission. Banked trembling turned into quakes, the tears she'd kept at bay sliding unwillingly down her cheeks as she blubbered. “R-Raf-!” She couldn't finish his name, shoulders hitching and breathing stalling.

He crouched in front of her with wide eyes as she sniffled. “Woah are you-?”

“Imjustsohappytoseeyou!!!” The words rushed out as she clapped her hands over her face. Xavier almost died today. I could have died today!!! If she had waited one more second-

The artist's hands were cool as he gently tugged her fingers away from her face before patting her hands briskly and letting go. “Heeeyyy, it's okay cutie, I'm here, yeah? Happy to see you too. Let's go home, okay?”

“O-okay.” She stood, scrubbing her face and reaching for Xavier's arm, her body shaking like a leaf. Rafayel gently nudged her, reaching down and bending, hauling Xavier over his back like a sack of potatoes. The other hunter swung, limp, a groan just barely slipping from his lips. “S-sorry, I can-”

“What are you apologizing for?” He walked back to the car with surprising ease, gesturing for her to open the back door. “It's this lump that should be saying sorry.” For all that his words had sass, Rafayel was careful where he laid the other man out, sitting him up properly and buckling him in. That done he gestured her to the passenger side, opening the door for her and making sure she was settled. As he entered the driver's side he spoke. “So what happened? You weren't kidding about knocking him out.”

She breathed deep, held the air in her abdomen before like verbal vomit she started venting. Rafayel listened while he drove with wide eyes through her play by play as she tugged on her hair and twisted her hands, nodding along as she half sobbed and half laughed her way through it.

“I couldn’t resonate worth a shit until I had to and then I pretty much emptied him like a pool with a hole in it!” She was back to covering her face, embarrassment now stinging.

“Okay, first of all.” He held up a finger. “Isn't that like, also his fault? Anhaussen class evolvers can't take more than what someone is willing to give. If he had the doors open and you pulled the stopper on the tub that's on him. He's the idiot.”

“Rafayel-”

He interrupted her. “And second!” the turn of his head, sunset eyes capturing hers as he suddenly smiled. “You one shotted a golem? Miss Bodyguard, that is veeerrrry impressive.”

She groaned again and flopped in the seat as her apartment came into view. “Yeah yeah but now my partner is an unconscious husk.”

A shrug from the artist. “Still his fault.”

She sighed deeply as he parked, standing on shaky legs and moving to help Rafayel with Xavier. He waved her away again, hauling the other back up and over his shoulder. She watched him with squinted eyes. “Why the fuck are you so strong?!” The words slipped out, unfiltered, unedited, no thought of the game or the plot. She'd seen too much today. Screw that shit.

Rafayel laughed, poking her nose and making her blink in astonishment. “Who taught you those words cutie? Or do you just become a potty mouth after combat?”

She batted his hand away and scowled, walking with legs shaking like a lamb up to the apartment door with Rafayel trailing with fake groans behind her.

“Ugh, what does this guy eat?!”

Whatever, you and your weird lemurian biology. You're from the deep sea, I bet your muscles are dense as all hell. The two of them spilled into the elevator, Rafayel leaning against the wall as the other man drooped.

“He lives above you, right?”

She nodded and sighed. “Yeah but I don't have a key so I guess he has to come back to my place.”

The artist scowled as she hit the button for her floor, head dipping. “You can't have him stay over with you!”

She stared at him in return, eyebrows furrowing. “Wh-what? Why?”

Rafayel let out a fake sounding sniff. “It's inappropriate.”

Christine barked out a laugh as the elevator came to a stop, leading them to her apartment. As she unlocked the door she spoke, filter still gone. “What year do you think this is? The 1800's? Puh-llleeaasseee.” She mimicked him unthinkingly as she kicked the door shut behind them and helped Rafayel settle the other man on the couch.

She flopped on the end while he stood above her, arms crossed and expression mockingly severe.

“It's weird. Think about your reputation!”

Christine rolled her eyes and braced her forearm over her face. “Is it less weird if it's a three way sleepover? You, me, Xavier as our unconscious third member?”

He brightened immediately, sitting on her floor and nodding. “Sure!” His voice was suddenly chipper as he stared at her slyly. “Thanks for the invite cutie.”

Her flabbers were absolutely ghasted. This man was playing 4D chess and she was playing checkers. Silence, and then she sighed deeply, capitulating. “You’re diabolical.”

He grinned, the sight striking. It warmed his face, making his eyes sparkle like gems, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the sound of his soft laugh as he hummed in agreement. She stared, heat once more licking up her face, lost in his gaze.

“And you owe me bubble tea, yeah? So chop chop, time to order some.”

His words broke her from her thoughts, cheeks heating even more as she hurriedly looked away. “Yeah, yeah. Here.” She handed him her phone and flopped onto the floor ungracefully. “I'm gonna shower, get me something with mangos in it please.”

“Of course!”

As she rolled to her feet she stopped, pointing at him and frowning. “Use my card.”

He blinked at her innocently, waving her phone lazily. “Yes ma'am.”

She eyed him once more and scowled while he smiled. He's definitely going to pay…. Christine groaned, she couldn't deal with trying to wrestle such a slippery fishie. With a wave she disappeared into the washroom after selecting new clothes, eyes trained on the shower wall and head buzzing.

She'd gotten good at this. A perfunctionary check of her body, hands scrubbing quickly and roughly, never lingering. No one ever talks about how weird it is to wash an ass that wasn't really yours. She stared at the soap swirling down the drain as her heart continued to thud, adrenaline still high.

Christine's thoughts drifted as she stared at the shower wall, fingers tensing around her hair. This was just the first day of many. How many more times would she be in that exact situation? When would the day come that she'd be too slow? That she'd watch someone actually die? The thought jittered under her skin as she rubbed her arms with a shudder. Distraction, she needed a distraction.

The anxious energy continued to buzz. It thrummed along with the water beating down her skin. She closed her eyes and leaned back, feeling it slide down the plane of her chest soothingly, like the gentle caress of a warm hand.

Christine didn't mean to, she never did. Showers used to be a safe space for her, memories and feelings kept at bay by the grounding beat of water. Heavy bodies and hot breath couldn't reach her in its curtains, but welcoming ones could. She sighed, warmth curling low, as a nameless, bodiless presence pressed warmly against her back. They never had a voice, never had a name, the presence she always conjured just for moments like these. It’s just been awhile… that’s why everything was too much. It’s okay… MC wouldn’t be disappointed in her right? It was her body now… their body…and they did almost just die…

Hands drifted aimlessly before stalling, the deep feeling of being a voyeur, the terrible sensation of doing something wrong! It usurped the brief second of weakness. Her stomach curdled, heat fleeing and nausea replacing it. The warm presence was gone. It was just Christine, the shower and shame. Scowling, she roughly washed off the rest of the soap and returned to the bathroom. Mirror avoided, she towel dried her hair, got dressed and thumped back outside, shoving all thoughts of what she almost did aside.

Rafayel was lounging next to Xavier's unconscious body, staring at the hunter with an odd expression. She frowned when she saw it, something deeply unfathomable in his gaze, calculated and assessing. It made her shiver, arms crossing slightly. She didn’t like it. Christine hadn’t forgotten the lore of the game but she could admit, she might have gotten comfortable with the veneer they all presented. Maybe I really should keep them all away from each other… As she went to move into the room she stopped dead, face paling. Wait… In Intertidal Zone, Rafayel had felt it when MC… she choked and disappeared back around the corner, hand clasped over her mouth. No… no no, they didn’t have a bond. There’s NO WAY. Quickly she slapped her cheeks and took a deep breath, girding herself. It was fine. He didn’t feel a THING.

Clearing her throat she announced her presence, watching the lazy tilt of the artist's head as he immediately switched to a smile. “Feeling better?”

She studied his expression carefully, the nonchalance in it, the friendly lilt. Slowly she relaxed, nodding and settling by his side on the floor, also staring at the hunter. “Has he moved at all?”

“Nope!” Rafayel sighed deeply propping his head up on one hand and eyeing Xavier once more. “You know cutie, I’ve seen some evol overuse in my time but are you sure he’s okay?” To her surprise he reached over and poked the other man’s cheek.

She snapped a hand out and quickly stopped him, eyes huge. “Don’t poke him!”

“Why not?” He was reaching out again, a cheeky cast to his face. “He’s just being a lump! Are you sure he’s even alive? Look at him!” Another poke, she scrambled, caught his hand and held it firmly, scowling.

“Let him rest!”

His eyes… the look in them, she couldn’t read it. Abruptly he tugged, dragging her forward and overbalancing her. She landed with an oof across his lap, Rafayel's legs digging into her stomach as she sprawled, winded. Above her she heard a chuckle, a large hand patting the top of her head briefly as he bent around her to catch her eyes. “What a clumsy little hunter, yeah?”

That gaze again, she hadn’t seen it since that first day in the hospital room, assessing… searching…. Why…? Why was he….? She felt hunted under its weight, immediately trying to push herself upright and off his lap. His words barely registered.

He shifted again, destabilizing her arms and sending her sprawling once more. “Oops.”

Why? “Rafayel, stop that.”

“Hmmm?” A lilting cast to his voice, assessing once more. “Stop what? You’re the one who can’t get up Miss. Bodyguard.” A rough exhale of air, she couldn’t see his face, why-? He continued speaking, absentminded as he gently shuffled her, rolling her onto her back and shifting so her head was in his lap. She blinked in surprise, disoriented, now staring up at him. “You know… you’re pretty weird, right?”

She stilled, his words coming out of nowhere. “W-what?”

He looked down, face shadowed. It was searching, arresting, she felt pinned like a bug under a microscope. The moment felt like it was lasting an age, her heart thundering as she held still, like prey before a predator. Abruptly he smiled and poked her forehead, pushing her off his lap and letting her head rest on the floor instead. “Don’t worry about it, yeah?” He faked a shiver, rubbing his arms. “Why is your apartment always so cold? Haven’t you ever heard of heat?”

What in the actual fuck was that?! She was rattled, lunging to her feet now that she was free. Shakily she reached for her bucket of blankets by the couch, digging until she could find his favourite and threw it at him without looking, his mild squawk of alarm barely registering.

The rest of the evening was blessedly normal. They drank bubble tea and continued their show, Xavier their unconscious third party. She typed up her report in between episodes and checked on her partner, talking to Rafayel about his adventures with the seagulls by his house and how Reddie was doing. The air felt strange though, charged. He was present, of course, joking and chatting as normal but it was all so odd. The way he was looking at her, the nearness that seemed to manifest. He was always just a little bit closer than she expected, body and warmth inches away.

She was secretly relieved when Xavier opened his eyes, groggy and barely coherent. Christine fed him, checked him over, and sent him back upstairs to her apartment, Rafayel letting out a pout as the door shut behind the hunter.

“Guess we don’t get to have a sleepover, huh?”

She sighed and nudged him lightly. “Well I do have work tomorrow you know. Do you want to get up at 5am with me to go to the gym?”

Immediately he cringed, hands up and backing away. “Yeaaahhh no thanks, you’re crazy for doing that.” He brushed off his coat and then caught her eyes again, voice low, that assessing look back. “See you next time Miss. Bodyguard.”

“S-see you!”

As he left she let out a relieved breath, pressure she hadn’t even realized was building leaving her in a rush. What the hell is happening?

-----

Life continued. Meetings and patrols, late nights and early mornings. Thankfully, no more wanderers had appeared in her following workdays but the A rank golem was a hot topic for nearly everyone she talked to. There was public outcry, accusations of tampering and even whole news segments dedicated to the failings of the safety commission and the Hunter’s Association. Christine ignored it all, focusing on just staying alive.

It was worrisome though, no similar event happening in game until Lumiere’s myth, if that would even still happen. She couldn’t even guess at this point, the plot so thoroughly derailed that she was afraid to even try and track it. For her, all it really amounted to was more evol training. So. Much. More. She was passed around to different people at the office, Xavier on leave for the week, finally learning how to control the connection, how to not… pour herself into the other person and vice versa.

Therapy was a welcome reprieve, her Monday evenings now a time to vent, a time to try and make sense of everything. She didn’t speak about her transmigration or her other life, molding Caleb and Josephine in her stories to her brother and her grandma. How could she do otherwise? True honesty simply wasn’t an option. Alluding to events from her original life, weaving her memories into the stories of this life. It was a blessing. It would have to be enough.

Verbal vomit at last let her bleed her fear about that terrible day so many years ago. Just remembering it had her breaking out in a cold sweat, old rage and even older sadness choking her as she started trying to work through it all again.

She had been healing when she had been pulled to Linkon. Years of being unable to stomach being alone with a man finally left behind, touch slowly being allowed, work now a collaborative fun thing instead of a mental exercise in terror. And then… to be here…

In some ways it felt cruel.

----

Time marched on, evenings still consumed, days still equally busy. Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier. Constant and welcome figures either alone or even sometimes together, but… Something had changed. Something was different.

Ever since that day in the plant store, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from slipping, from thinking of them in ways that were as stupid as it was addicting.

Their bodies and voices became something to notice once more instead of the white noise she had made of them. Christine was flustered, awkward, confused, afraid. She wasn’t an idiot. They were clearly attracted to MC’s body and by god, who wouldn’t be? Though she had become more muscular than before her skin was still always stupidly clear, her hair lush and smooth. In public, it made her feel hunted, stared at and noticed in a way she simply hadn’t been in her previous life.

She hadn’t been unattractive before but average? Most definitely.

Visits that before had felt friendly and welcoming suddenly felt more pointed, more… seeking. It’s like her hug had invited them all closer.

The crack came from who she least expected, the pressure finally boiling over. It wasn’t from any of them though, it was her.

Sleep had been strange since coming to this world. Fragmented and terrifying, scenes and images from her life and what felt like scenes from the game. Flashes of Caleb's face when she’d never really seen it, sights and smells of places she’d never been to before. Fire and brimstone, the ocean and palaces, jasmine and the sterile smell of a lab. It was nerve wracking.

There were also… other dreams. Those didn’t start until after that day in the greenhouse.

Dissociation didn’t stop bodily functions. Christine had become a master of getting through them, brain checked out and body floating. The tingle of desire was the worst. She had three beautiful men as her friends. Men she had absolutely fantasized about in a past life, as embarrassing as that was to admit now. At the time though they’d been fake. Voices in her phone promising intimacy and love. The first time Zayne had let out a breathy sigh while stretching out his back next to her she had combusted. Silent Poem had ruined her!!! He’d caught the bright flush of her cheeks with a confused frown but she’d refused to meet his eyes and simply prayed to whoever controlled the universe to smite her.

She tried to hide it, tried to suppress it… but… she was … nervous. It rattled through her at how real they were, how present. Their bodies and their size, their expectations and desires. Christine didn’t want this, didn’t want them. Right…?

Her heart seized at the very thought. Wanting meant them wanting her. The her of now, not the girl that should have been theirs. Wanting meant choosing, meant deciding. Being measured and compared, vulnerability and heart exposed. Learning and growing, healing and moving past her fear…

Wanting meant pain.

It meant… heartbreak.

Did they notice? Did they think she was being coy? Did they think the racing of her heart was the flutter of a crush or could they see the mess behind her eyes?

Sleep didn’t allow her to hide from herself. Odd dreams became odder. Nights became a restless mental exercise in humiliation. She began to dread the time she’d have to go to her bed and lay down. Wanderers, they’d crush her into paste in half of them when she wasn’t seeing odd hallucinations and meshed visions of a life blurred. The rest though….

The sound of her door opening, she blinked, a blurry silhouette approaching. The bed was so warm, so comforting… She barely moved as the mattress dipped, jasmine and lavender filling her senses as warmth pressed tenderly to her forehead. She blinked in surprise, staring up into hazel eyes that watched her so fondly, it made her breath catch.

“My apologies. Did I wake you up?” Zayne was leaning over her, black coat and turtle neck on, hair ruffled and wet from the cold outside.

She smiled at him sleepily. “Yeah, that’s okay. Busy day at the hospital?”

He settled, closer than ever before. “Yes, it’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…”

Her brain fuzzed as he talked, something in her clamoring and wriggling, heat building for no apparent reason.

He moved closer. “You were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”

What?

“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”

She blinked as he climbed further onto the bed, arms coming to envelop her. As he did his face fuzzed, blending in a static-y blur between the face she had come to know and his game model. It was terrifying, uncanny, it made her jolt, made her try to get away but her body was restricted, a heavy weight on her legs.

She glanced down, Xavier was lying there, blue eyes bright where they peered up from her thigh. His head was resting, expression content. “Why did you call off the inspection?” He rose, crawling up the length of her legs as Zayne held her from the side. He caught her fingers and pressed them low against his abdomen, dragging it lower and lower. “I’m in the palm of your hand right now.”

Her eyes bugged, fingers tensing. She knew what sort of dream this was at this point. Frustration and tension, this was her fault wasn’t it? Her brain was having a hell of a time trying its best to act out her favourite Secret Times audios. His face fuzzed like Zayne’s as he leaned close, that same uncanny switch from game to real.

She focused on the game, not wanting to use the faces of the men she had come to know. Surely it would be okay then…? She was safe in her own mind, she could indulge here…

Her hand was pulled from Xaviers, a different voice now thrumming through her ear. “Miss Bodyguard… you’ve given me quite a surprise. How should I repay you?” Rafayel kissed the tips of her fingers and watched her with flushed cheeks. She blanched, he was half formed, the pull of his lips terrifying.

Christine attempted to shuffle backwards as he pressed her wrist to his mouth, those beautiful eyes arresting her with their intensity. Suddenly a chuckle, low, rich, deep. She jerked, head peering down once more where a shadowy figure rested.

Red eyes stared back at her, his face never quite resolving beyond the colour of his hair or the glint of his eyes. Sylus, his voice was so distinct she couldn’t mistake it for anyone else. “Do I look like I’m… anticipating something?” He moved, his face staying an odd blur. Uncanny… Why?! Xavier moved to the side as he did, dropping back down to rest on her thigh. “Kitten… you’re so greedy. All of us? Shouldn’t just one be enough?” That wasn’t from his Secret Times…

“W-what?” She blinked in confusion before she became aware of arms tightening around her from behind, of thighs bracketing her back. Caleb pressed his nose to her hair, unseen but felt, voice desperate and tinged with yearning. “I waited so long.”

They all stared up at her, faces and bodies glitching, hands firm where they all held her. Xavier and Sylus both grabbed a leg, dragging her down the bed until she was laying flat, Caleb’s face now in view. He too was unformed, purple eyes burning as he leaned over her. Suddenly he grabbed her chin, fingers tight. “Oh. You’re not my pipsqueak….” His voice buzzed, wrong wrong WRONG! “What did you do with her?”

Sylus’s face came into view next, voice low. “We have a little pretender in our midst.”

They all seemed to rumble, voices a murmur of dissent.

Rafayel's hand snapped out, wrapping around her throat as a dagger manifested in his free hand. “My beloved bride’s body, how dare you puppet it around?” He shoved her hard, face corrupting before her eyes. “Give me her heart.”

No! She fought as they pinned her, the dagger bright where it glinted. “I didn’t mean to-!”

Zayne wrapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her, hazel eyes cold, cold, cold. “Be silent.”

She struggled, trying to catch any of their eyes but they all stared back blankly, uncarring. Xavier caught her hand, fingers still gentle even as he glared. “Don’t fight it. We deserve her don’t we? You’re taking our happy endings away from us.”

Caleb, voice cold. “You’re no one.”

Sylus, his face still just a terrifying void. “Your life for hers, it’s a fair trade sweetie.”

No!

Rafayel swung without mercy, her eyes pinching closed before she could see the dagger enter her chest. Don’t!!!

Christine heaved in gasps of air as she jerked upright with a cry. She scrambled to feel her chest, grateful to see it still intact. Fucking hell. Out of the bedroom with Artsy Birb in tow, hands shaking and body clammy. She made herself a cup of tea, refusing to look into any reflective surfaces. It was nights like these where she wished desperately she had someone to talk to. Phone out, she stared at her contacts. Of any of them only Rafayel would still be awake.

The flash of a knife, a twisted expression…

She shuddered, quickly discarding the idea.

What did that dream even mean?

----

Time continued. Another month passing in a blur. It was as her weapon training progressed that Rafayel tentatively raised whether she would come with him to some of his events, chattering about his need for his bodyguard. She hedged, fingers twisting nervously as they sat in her apartment, the show they were watching together paused.

“So you see, you should come with me or else Thomas will kill me.”

She sighed as his argument ended, catching the subtle tension in his hands as he waited eagerly. “Rafayel, I've just started hand to hand training, I'd be a terrible bodyguard right now.” Not that he actually needed one.

He pouted, glaring. “Aren't guns better than fists?”

Christine shook her head and sighed again, dipping to grab his hand and gently uncurl his fingers. She’d been practicing, forcing... Casual touch slowly desensitizing her to them. There were times where she still lost herself, sparring for example, was simply hell. But a hand held, a pat on the back? These she could do.

She smoothed out his fingers and then patted his palm, heart beating hard as she forced herself to relax into the motion. “Rafayel, you know, you don't have to pay me to spend time with you, right?” She tilted her head up and smiled at him gently. “If you want me to come to your event to support you I will. Hell I'd have probably shown up anyway just to cheer you on.” And she would have. What was important to them had quickly become important to her. Going to Zayne’s medical award ceremony, Xavier’s photography contest and visiting Rafayel's gallery in the mornings before the rush…. She was determined to be as good of friends to them as they were to her.

She caught the second his eyes blew wide, something so soft and vulnerable in his expression that her chest cracked. “I'd be a bad bodyguard, Rafayel. I don't want you to rely on me for your physical safety so please hire someone appropriate. Your emotional bodyguard and friend though? I can do that, for free, okay? I'll scare off any old ladies who try to harass you with the power of my resting bitch face.” She patted his shoulder lightly as he chuckled at her self description before quickly returning her hands to her lap. “We're friends, right?” Right?

He responded instantly. “Yes, we're- yes.” He hunched slightly, nodding and staring down at his fingers in his lap before he raised his hand to tug on the collar of his shirt. Quietly, “Okay.” He tipped towards her ever so slightly, shoulder pressing like a warm band along her side as he breathed slowly. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him, the tiny real smile at the corner of his mouth.

They made plans then for her to go to his next gallery opening, an auction of several of his paintings where half the proceeds would go to charity.

Zayne had been supportive while Xavier had been mulish, both men offering to go shopping with her of all things. Dresses however, were not her forte so she’d left it in the artist's hands at his requests. Christine had thought of asking Tara or Simone but truthfully, she was failing miserably at connecting with both women. Coffee and lunch, the occasional movie, but the wall was still there. She couldn’t seem to climb it. The boys were easy, she had several hundreds of hours of experience with them before ever seeing their faces. Making friends the proper way, the real way? It was tough.

Before she knew it the week passed and a dress was delivered along with a card. She had been very very clear with the artist. She wanted to be covered. No heels. As she pulled the midnight blue gown from the box she had to smile, pleased he had listened. It was an absolutely gorgeous ensemble, too nice in many ways for her to wear. High lace up the neck and back, a corseted top and flowing skirt. It looked like water from the deep ocean when caught in the light with pearl accents. The card was simple, flowing writing handwritten on a pink note. See you soon!

Christine sighed deeply, following the tutorial on her phone carefully for her hair and makeup. She fought her flinches whenever she accidentally made eye contact with herself, Zayne's seal still as cold as the day he had made it for her and ready to ground her. Look done she hesitantly snapped a picture and sent it to their group chat. She’d been using it regularly, forcing the boys in some ways to use it too. It was now full of nonsense half the time, the three of them sniping or bickering in their own unique ways. She was honestly constantly shocked Zayne hadn’t muted the whole thing but he seemed to enjoy the verbal sparring if nothing else.

They’d all met up only once since that day at the greenhouse. An orchestrated unfortunate collision on her part as she had dragged them all to the arcade. It had been… beyond entertaining to watch them all try and get plushies and fail spectacularly except for Zayne who had cheekily frozen the toy to the claw. Her petty boys. The sheer menace on Rafayel and Xavier's face when he’d handed her the Grumpy Kitty had been pretty priceless.

She smiled as her phone dinged, the grey background replaced with a picture of all four of them from that day. It warmed her to look at it. Chat unlocked she read:

Xavier: U did a good job

Xavier: where is this event again?

Xavier: do U want some1 else to go with U?

Rafayel: no stay away

Rafayel: if i see yur stupid hair ill fry it

An Artsy Birb emote for “Go Away” followed the message, wagging its paintbrush and frowning. Immediately Xavier followed with one of his Galaxy Kid ones, the “I Don’t Care” communicated solidly.

She chuckled as the messages continued.

Rafayel: anyway

Rafayel: lookin good cuuttiiieeee

Rafayel: yur ride will be there soooon

Zayne: You look lovely. I hope you both have fun tonight.

She smiled again, warmed. Part of her actually was quite excited, the evening promising to be an interesting one. It was her first time ever going to an event like this, both in her current and past life. It’d probably be pretty boring to most people but honestly the food alone made her more than happy to go, and besides. Rafayel truly was talented. His art was wonderful to look at and who knows, maybe she’d even make some new friends? Couldn’t hurt.

Bolstered, she put on her shoes just as the text from her driver came in, making her way downstairs and to the sleek black vehicle waiting.

The trip to the venue was quick, only a few minutes from her apartment all things considered. Rafayel was waiting outside, dressed sharply in a matching dark blue coat that had her rolling her eyes when she saw it. Christine had been expecting the matching outfits, her fishie in this way was not subtle. He beamed the second he saw her, entire face lighting as she climbed out. It made her chest hurt as he grinned. “Chhrriissttinnnee!”

He used her name so rarely that she chuckled, mimicking him. “Raaafffaayyeeelll.” She smiled as he came up to her side. “You look really good! Blue suits you!”

“Hey!” he huffed, pretending to pout. “I’m supposed to compliment you!” Arms crossed he let out a grunt. “Stealing my thunder and everything.” He couldn’t hold onto it, practically giddy as he offered her his arm and waited with an eager look. “My cute lovely lady, you look ravishing!”

She hid the twinge of discomfort at his words and slipped her arm into his, still smiling. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” He turned them then, leaning down until their heads were side by side with his phone out. “Can we take a picture?” At her nod they both smiled into the screen. It was moments like these where the uncanniness still truly struck her. She forced it aside and matched his energy, a peace sign thrown into the air and a smile on her face.

He immediately texted it with a smirk, her phone buzzing with a telltale vibration in her purse. She frowned, eyeing him before slipping it out, their group chat lit up. This fucking menance.

Rafayel grabbed her before she could ruminate, sweeping her inside past throngs of people and photographers that blinded her, chattering all the while. “I always really like doing charity auctions like this, makes it all feel a little more worth it, you know?” He dodged people like it was an art form, bringing her over to a table laden with food with a knowing look. “Feed that shark in your stomach while you can, yeah?”

She grinned, hands clasping together eagerly. “Any recommendations?”

As he gestured to various dishes she could feel it, eyes on her back, intense, pointed. Hesitantly she turned to look, skin prickling. She just barely caught a flash of white from the corner of her eye before Rafayel drew her back in, a plate in her arms and hands steering her shoulders.

“Oh! One more thing! There is a painting here with a bit of a… surprise.” He smiled at her secretly. “I’m sure you’ll get it cutie.” He pointed to a canvas, half hidden behind a series of sculptures, just barely lit. “Let me know what you think, yeah?”

She nodded as Thomas beelined towards the artist, a severe frown on his face. Rafayel hunched, hunted before sighing and straightening his suit. “Right, can’t hide forever. Please come save me in an hour though.”

Christine chuckled and nodded again, patting his shoulder lightly before quickly pulling away and waving, plate in hand. She watched as he followed Thomas like a scolded puppy, his two toned eyes looking back at her longingly.

Shaking her head she sighed and turned to look out at the gallery, eating quietly and wandering. Each piece really was lovely. She saved the one he had pointed out for last, smiling politely at people and commenting where appropriate until all her snacks were done. She’d go back for more as soon as it would be considered polite for her to do so. The entire time she wandered she could feel it. Eyes. Someone was watching her. She tried to ignore it, thinking of the paparazzi outside and the rich, judgemental people inside. They’d watched her come in with the star of the show, of course they would stare.

Making her way to the back at last she stopped before the canvas Rafayel had pointed out, a contemplative hum slipping from beneath her breath. The painting was beautiful, Christine could admit that. She tilted her head and took a half step back, a frown on her lips as she followed the vibrant red and green of it with careful eyes. It looked like an abstract nature scene, something from a forest instead of the ocean like he typically painted. There were figures in it but they were indistinct, blurry. What could he have possibly meant? As someone who did know the lore, this should be a piece of cake if it had some… hidden meaning. And yet… She frowned and stepped closer. What a sneaky fishie, he was just torturing her on purpose at this point.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The voice registered but only barely, low, deep, it vibrated against her in a familiar drawl that had her unthinkingly relaxing and nodding along. “It really is…” She spoke quietly, soto voice, as if sharing a secret with this stranger. “Apparently there is some deeper meaning to this painting but honestly? I can’t see it. I’m not even sure what it's of besides “colours”.” She sighed as a low, familiar chuckle rang, the person at her side shifting subtly as she crossed her arms. She eyed the painting from top to bottom once more as the pleasant smell of leather and elderflower surrounded her senses. Under her breath she sighed, I’ll figure it out Rafayel, you absolute menace. She’d enlist Xavier if she had to, the man had a surprising art history background and was easy to bribe.

Focusing back on her surroundings she half turned to the man at her side, her brain slowly catching up with her surroundings. Why-?

“I do believe hearing that would send the artist into conniptions, sweetie.”

Sweetie?! She whipped her head to the side before rational thought could stop her, a frown on her lips at any man calling her that even as the voice pounded familiar, familiar, into her head like a clarion. “Well-!” Everything stopped. Carmine eyes and white hair, his silhouette was gigantic. Christine’s eyes widened almost comically as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze, mouth parting in shock. Fucking shit.

Sylus met her eyes with a smirk, his lips flaring into a true smile as she gaped. “Ah…” He took a half step towards her as she quickly stepped back, the look on his face both contained and hopeful, predatory and searching.

Too late, she had just made a truly terrible mistake. She hadn’t been able to help it, the flair of recognition… It must have been obvious on her face. Internally scrambling she forced herself to relax as he backed her up further and further, hands tightening and then fisting at her front. Of course he would come for her eventually, avoiding the N109 zone, dropping the investigation into Onychinus... it had only delayed the inevitable. This… meeting with the one love interest she wouldn’t be able to fool, wouldn’t be able to deny. He’s going to kill me… no… he’s going to torture me to find out what the hell happened and then he is going to kill me.

He was closer now, the tips of his shoes nearly touching hers as he coralled her until her back touched the wall, his body hiding her from the rest of the room as he dwarfed her in his shadow. “You know me…” Red eyes flashed, his head dipping closer, voice so low she could feel it more than hear it.

Deny it? She immediately discarded the idea, fingers tightening nervously. Not like she could tell the truth either. With a deep breath she girded herself. A version of the truth it is. “No… I don’t.” She forced an embarrassed chuckle, brushing her hair back from her face and dipping her head, avoiding his eyes. Keep that aether core away from me…

He smirked, brow raising. “Oh?”

Why is he getting so fucking close?! Scary… oh god I thought Zayne was intimidating. Mentally Christine glared but outwardly she simply pretended to half shrink, fanning herself lightly with one of her hands. “Sorry, this will probably sound really silly, but I used to have a dream about a man who looked just like you.” She affected a light laugh, keeping her gaze twisted firmly to the side. “That sounds so embarrassing to say out loud! You just have a very distinct look sir.”

“A dream?”

Ohhh he does not believe my bullshit. The thought zinged through her head right before she nearly jumped out of her skin, his hand coming to her face and grabbing her chin. Immediately she seized his wrist as her heart rate skyrocketed, other, far more unpleasant memories clamoring as he tilted her chin up. Panic. Her breathing sawed in and out, fingers digging into his arm. Rafayel! She thought of the artist, frantic, where was he?! Unthinkingly she focused on him heart racing as she searched for him around Sylus’s body.

She was cut short as he tugged on her face again, stepping closer and forcing her to crane her head back. His eye flared. Christine had often wondered what she would see if this exact event were to ever happen. Would she even see anything? Maybe her home? Her grandma and her brother? Instead she was plunged, through darkness and fire, the scent of flowers and blood overwhelming, lava and sulfur mixing cloyingly. A chest heaved in front of her, splayed thighs and a clawed hand. It was tugging on her, forcing her to press a claymore through his chest as blood poured. No… no!!! She shouldn’t be seeing this! She wasn’t her!! The thought was drowned out as her head ached, a voice, her own, thunderous and hungry. It rumbled as her stomach rolled.

“Devour him” “Possess him”

She gagged as the claymore moved, a groan of pain sounding above her. NO! Christine reacted without thought, hours upon hours of training locking into place. She stepped forward and seized his shirt in her hands. With one swift move she pivoted both his weight and hers, muscles flexing hard as she threw him as hard as she could. Her breath rattled as the vision abruptly ended, a cold sweat immediately breaking out across her entire body. What did I just do…?

“Miss Bodyguard!” Rafayel was suddenly by her side blocking her from the crowd of surprised patrons as she heaved in breath after breath. She couldn’t hear him, ears ringing as she watched Sylus climb to his feet, long fingers brushing off his pants before those eyes attempted to find hers once more. Unthinkingly she wrenched herself from Rafayel's grasp, spun and ran.

Why did I see that?! Why did I see what MC should have seen?! The thought was frantic as she plunged through the gallery and into the staff hallways, tears burgeoning at the corner of her eyes as she shoved her way outside and gasped huge lungfulls of air. She stumbled, the stupid edge of her dress catching on the garbage can and tripping her. Christine went down in a heap, hands and knees scraped raw.

How?? How!? It was a meeting of her aether core and his, right? But they were nothing but conduits for a soul, a joining of memories and bound fates. She sobbed, hand over her chest, digging through the layers of fabric as she reeled. She had always thought, always assumed that she had replaced MC, the woman dying on Zayne’s operating table months ago and leaving Christine to take over her body. But…had MC ever really left? Was she still… inside her?!?! Or had she just… rebooted like always? What would that even mean?! Her head ached as she groaned, the sound of shoes and a worried male voice barely registering.

Expensive cologne, paint and sea salt, Rafayel was at her side, his hands careful on her back, fluttering and anxious. “Christine, breath…” he was grabbing her hands and flipping them over, fingers feeling for her pulse as he spoke calmly. “Is it your heart? Does your chest hurt?” She wheezed, trying to grab her chest again as pain flared. “Just hang on!” She was vaguely aware of him dialing a number, of another voice joining the cacophony that was her head. Yet all the while she could feel another gaze, red and searching, watching as she shuddered. Pathetic. She felt stripped bare beneath its regard. “Zayne, she’s having trouble breathing and she keeps grabbing her chest, I don’t know what happened she-”

She tuned him out, staring at her hands and fighting the feeling of out of body dissociation. Was she Christine Termine, app developer and homebody? The woman who had fought for years to overcome the trauma of life’s hurdles, who’d made snow forts with her brother and drove a quad off a ridge at the tender age of thirteen? Hadn’t she gone to school? Made friends and memories? Met strangers and seen places far from this future Linkon?! Was it just that she didn’t have a choice?! Did just being here seal her fate?! The rough sound of her own gasping breaths was a symphony to the dual voices of Rafayel and Zayne, the other's voice just barely registering as it bled from Rafayel's phone.

It was his hands, attempting to feel for her neck that made awareness return. It was all too much! She wrenched back from him with a cry, hands shoving and body twisting. Without a thought she focused all her attention on the lemurian, words barking out almost without permission. “Don’t touch me, Rafayel!”

Red, she gasped as it burned on his chest, bright and familiar over his heart. He seized like she had electrocuted him. He covered it so quickly she couldn’t be sure-, the blue and pink of his eyes bright as he immediately reeled backwards.

No… She stared in horror, scrambling to her feet. No that shouldn’t appear… that shouldn’t… She ran again, pain lancing through her chest. Christine heard him shout after her, but she ignored him, feet and arms pumping. Eyes, she still felt them on her, the weight of their regard as she burst out onto the street to the line of waiting taxis. She didn’t hesitate, throwing herself into the closest one and rapping out her address.

She had just controlled Rafayel hadn't she? Fingers tensing into fists she stared out the window as Linkon flashed by, the gallery fading in the distance. She could see him, standing at the edge of the street, expression twisting into one of dark desperation as her car pulled away. Another figure, further behind him, red eyed and tall. Sylus was watching too.

Her phone buzzed in her bag as they drove, her Hunters Watch flashed. Notifications on top of notifications blaring as worried messages piled in. Christine tuned it all out, clammy and blank, thoughts heaving and churning. How could she have controlled Rafayel? How could she have seen what MC should have seen? Was it because she was in this body? What did it mean? WHAT DID IT MEAN?!

Chapter Text

At her apartment she flung herself from the car's interior, paying the cabbie in a rush and gagging as she dropped to her knees by the entrance gate. Above, a bird caw’d. The sound made every single hair on her body raise. On trembling limbs she pushed herself forward, stumbling, eyes blurring.

Hands on her arm, she heaved, spinning to find Xavier, frowning above her where he crouched his phone out. He was speaking but she couldn’t hear him, the world reduced to white noise and panic. He was bending to pick her up, she could feel his hand going for her thighs - no!!

With a surge of adrenaline she shoved him away, breathes heaving. “Don’t…” It was a warning, a clear one, the night around them coming into focus.

“Okay, I won’t, but will you let me check your pulse through your Hunters Watch?”

She blinked at him, zoning out once more. She felt her watch vibrate, heard him speaking, but none of it was registering. Hands, urging but not grasping, she stumbled, outside becoming inside, lights flaring until a familiar scent engulfed her. Vanilla. Fuck she still hated it. A chair beneath her, gentle hands on her shoulder.

Rafayel practically burst into her apartment seconds later, clothing askew and hair ruffled, his presence just barely registering. “Cutie!” He dropped to his knees by her side, panting. “Why did you run off like that?!” Hands on her wrists, he was feeling her pulse again, glaring fiercely. He turned to Xavier. “Did you call Zayne? Should we take her to Akso?”

The other hunter shook his head and then sighed. “He'll be here soon. Her vitals are normal-”

Christine was barely aware of the noise around her, zoned out and disassociating. Why did she see that scene? How could she have seen it?! And after… Did she control Rafayel? Had that been in her head?! She couldn't even be sure anymore.

Voices rumbled, she tuned back in just barely.

Xavier was speaking. “What even happened?”

Rafayel paused for a moment before speaking quietly. “Sylus Qin was at the event.”

“What?! Why?”

The artist shook his head, mouth tensing as he carefully held her wrist. “He's bought art from me before but he's never come to a gallery event, usually stays haunting the N109 Zone. But you know how it is, the art world is more than a little shady, yeah?”

Xavier nodded, arms crossing. “What does that have to do with her though?”

Rafayel sighed quietly. It was interesting to watch him and Xavier talk, how serious both their faces were… how carefully they listened to each other's words. “I don't know. I only saw the tail end of it but he was holding her face when I got there and practically pinning her against a wall.”

“He. Did. What?” None of them had heard the door opening, Zayne now filling the space as he moved to kneel by her side, medical case out and jacket shucked. He pushed Rafayel out of the way as he pulled out his stethoscope and spoke to her with none of the menace that had just coated his words. “Christine, are you with us?”

His stethoscope was cold despite how he had tried to warm it. It pressed to her chest carefully as he listened and counted, hazel eyes concerned as she stared at him blankly still struggling to sort out her mind. She nodded to him slowly. He blinked, relieved, before returning his gaze to his watch.

“Do you have any chest pain or shortness of breath?” She shook her head. “Any numbness, weakness, pain in your back or jaw?” another head shake. “No other odd feelings or sensations? For example, a feeling of impending doom?”

Xavier frowned along with Rafayel. “What sort of question is that?”

As she shrugged, Zayne frowned. “Cardiac symptoms present differently in women compared to men. Back pain, jaw pain, unexplained feelings of deep seated fear. Many women have been sent home from the ER because they didn't have numbness or chest pain and were accused of hysteria.”

“I'm fine.” The words slipped out, quiet and slow. “I'm just processing…”

Rafayel was there once more as Zayne squeezed her hand lightly. “Cutie, what happened?”

Pink and blue, she stared into them as she spoke in a daze. “I don't know.” And she didn't. What did it mean…

Xavier turned back to the artist, voice low. “Can you keep explaining?”

Rafayel watched her in concern before sighing and nodding. “Like I said, I saw him grab her and before I could intervene she flipped him over her shoulder and threw him like a sack of fish.”

The other two men blinked, Xavier's mouth creasing into a barely there smile as little sparks of light pricked around them. “Really?” He covered his lips and let out a soft hum, it didn't hide the ill timed amusement.

His reaction was enough to hoist her from her fugue state, staring at the hunter in shock. “Xavier.”

He blinked and smiled at her. “Good job.”

What the fuuu-????

““Good job?” Are you insane?” Zayne was glaring at Xavier like he was the biggest idiot he had ever met. “Sylus Qin is the leader of Onychinus, isn't he?”

A shrug, the hunter just smiled. “And he tried to manhandle her when he shouldn't. Serves him right.”

The other two men stared at him in dismay while something in her cracked. She started to laugh. Her shoulders heaved, her chest quaked. With tearful eyes she stared up at her work partner and offered him a fist. He bumped it gently as she wheezed. “Fuck yeah he did deserve it huh? T-the prick”

Rafayel fell back onto his butt and stared at her like she was crazy, Zayne quietly watching them both, pinching the bridge of his nose. He spoke softly. “You’re right. He did deserve it but we must also live in reality.” He turned to Rafayel. “Will this be a problem?”

The artist just shrugged, flopping fully onto his back and staring at the ceiling, rubbing his chest lightly, lingeringly. “Maaayybbee? I mean, if he tries to mess with our cutie, all four of us could take him.”

Xavier nodded. “Especially if our hunter gets better at resonating."

“Fry him like dinner.” Rafayel emphasized the words by flapping his hand lazily in the air.

Zayne slumped while she laughed again, wiping her face and breathing deep. She was cracking, tears pouring even as she clung to their jokes, their forced ease. “Hell yeah boys. I heard he’s immortal though. Might be a tough ask.” I guess unless I hit him…?

Xavier simply smiled. “Even immortals can be turned into popsicles.”

“Hear that? You’re our trump card doctor.”

Zayne audibly groaned. “We shouldn’t joke about this. He-”

Rafayel cut him off, hand waving as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and let it open. “Eh, honestly I’ve never heard of him being particularly… vindictive?”

“I don’t know if I would agree with that.” Xavier propped his chin on his hand, gaze faraway. Three expectant stares had him shrugging once more. “I’ve had run in’s with him in the past, blew up some of his protocores on a roof for a nice little show. I don’t think he’s forgotten about that.”

Zayne frowned while Rafayel squinted at him, voice a pointed drawl. “That why your bounty is so high?”

“You have a bounty-?”

Xavier cut off the doctor. “It could be higher.”

Christine chuckled weakly, sliding off the chair and joining Rafayel and Zayne on the floor. “You’re ridiculous-” She cut herself off with a gasp, hands shaking. She simply stopped, laying fully on her back and closing her eyes. What does it mean…? “Honestly the look on his face after I flipped him. I think that was practically foreplay…. Never seen someone looked so delighted after the shock cleared. ”

“Ewww gross Miss Bodyguard. Keep that sorta info to yourself.”

Xavier laid down too, nodding. “Yeah, he seems the type.”

Zayne clearly gave up, joining them on the floor and pressing his hands firmly to his eyes. “I can’t believe I rushed all the way here just to be subjected to this. I don’t want to know those sorts of things about any of you or anyone else.”

Rafayel pouted. “Awwee come on doctor, we’ve grown on you, right?”

“Like malignant tumors.”

“Heeeeyyyyy!”

She sighed, thoughts refusing to warm as she slowly lifted her hands and stared at them against the light of her apartment. The thoughts wouldn’t stop!! Absent-mindedly she spoke, “Before the explosion… what was I like?”

Silence. They’d never talked about this before. Zayne spoke first, hesitant. “You were… very confident.”

“No fear.” This from Xavier, a frown on his face.

“You were a bit meaner too.” Rafayel sighed dramatically. “The first time you came to my house? Brrr. So frosty.”

“What else?” Who am I? Who do you see…?

More silence, the soft rustle of clothes and breaths pacing out time. Xavier spoke again, a more serious note to his tone. “You weren’t as afraid or… jumpy.”

“You used to drink too much coffee and it worried me.” Zayne folded his hands carefully over his stomach. “When you were nervous, your leg would bounce and when you were happy you’d grab whoever was closest to you. You used to hate the cold too.”

Rafayel rolled onto his side and propped his head up to stare over Zayne, expression tense. “You used to be really grabby. Like reeeaaaally grabby. Number one manhandler."

She blushed, thinking of MC in all the cards she’d seen and nodded.

Xavier turned his head, blue eyes steady as he looked at her. “You’re quieter now too. You say strange things sometimes, outdated slang like you were born 40 years ago. And… you always look like you want to share more but you stop yourself. You’ll start stories and then just… stop.” Three nods.

To her surprise Zayne scooted closer, shoulder pressing to hers. “These all sound quite negative but there are positive changes too. As much as you might seem to hold yourself back, you’re kinder, more conscientious…, more serious too but not in a bad way. You listen… deeply. You pay attention to the smallest things. Your jokes are different as well, your hobbies and likes too. Plants for example or your newfound love of large sweaters.”

“You ask us to text you when we get home to make sure we’re safe and you check-in all the time. You remember silly things like the seagulls I feed or my deadlines or even which blankets of yours are my favourite.” The artist glanced away.

Xavier again, so quiet he was almost hard to hear. “You woke up after your accident and it’s like you had a blueprint of me in your head. You just… knew things.” He looked at her then, face suddenly softly vulnerable. “Like you remembered-” He cut himself off suddenly stone faced.

Oh Xavier… I’m sorry…

Rafayel hummed in agreement. “It was a bit weird. Used to it now though.”

Xavier nodded silent, hands crossing on his belly as he relaxed. “It’s nice.”

Three sounds of assent.

More silence. She fiddled with her hands as she absorbed what they’d said, thoughts still running like sludge. “Do you guys…” She stopped, hands twisting harder. Deep breath, she had to know. “Do you guys… like me still? Even though I’m so different?”

“Are you dumb?” Two grunts of annoyance, the thump of an arm hitting another and a high whine. “What?! She’s saying stupid things!!”

Zayne rolled over and faced her, head pillowed on his arm as Rafayel rubbed his shoulder in the background. “Yes. I wouldn’t spend time with someone I didn’t like.”

Xavier sighed, frowning at her from the corner of his eye. “Of course.”

“Seriously cutie, like I'd hang out with someone I didn’t like. I don’t waste my time on idiots.”

Zayne glanced at the artist then with a smirk. “Does that mean you like us too?”

“You’re tolerable.”

Another deep breath, she settled into it. Quietly she spoke. “Okay.” She paused, her teeth clenching as unnamable emotions welled. “I like you all too.” I really do… Far more than the pixel men she had played with on her phone. She covered her face, emotions burgeoning high and unstoppable.

They heard her soft hiccups, bodies all shuffling slightly closer, as if they wanted to offer comfort but were afraid to.

“Yeah yeah, we know. This is all too heartfelt, yeah?” The airy wave of a hand in her periphery. “We’re your real ride or die Miss Bodyguard, we even got the doctor over here ready to freeze the leader of the biggest criminal organization in the world.”

Zayne sighed loudly but didn’t refute the artist, accepting the change in atmosphere. “I doubt that would work.”

“Details shmetails. Can’t know unless we try.”

Christine chuckled wetly, turning her head to stare out the window as glowing red reflected back. Absent-mindedly she spoke. “I think our plans are already screwed.”

Xavier turned his head lazily, spotting Mephisto first. The barest widening of blue eyes was the only warning before a flash of light blinded all of them, the bird just barely managing to escape as the hunter teleported out onto her balcony with his sword out. Rafayel and Zayne both pushed themselves up, the artist moving with striking speed to pull the blinds closed as the hunter disappeared in another flash.

“Right, change of plans.” Rafayel hurried back towards them both, phone out as he typed quickly.

Zayne was repacking his med kit and frowning, urging her up and away from the windows as Xavier teleported back inside. “Was that-?”

“Yes, it’s his little stalker bird.” The hunter was staring at her, worry stark. “Why would Qin care about you? It’s not like him-”

She bit her lip and shrugged. What was she supposed to say? She was wearing his soulmate's body like a skin suit? Or that… maybe she was also his soulmate? It made her head hurt to even contemplate, her fingers coming up to pinch her brow. “I don’t know why-”

“Forgive me.” Zayne interrupted her. He fidgeted, the action so uncharacteristic that she was momentarily stunned. “The box I gave you at the hospital, you opened it, yes? Would that not be why he would approach you?”

Fuuucccckkkk!!!! “Zayne, I don’t know-”

“What did it say?” Xavier was moving around her apartment, checking the other windows and the door.

The doctor didn’t say anything else. He would never out her with his own words. Force her into an impossible situation though? Christine groaned, wiping her face roughly and sighing loudly. Fuck it. “I have an aether core in my heart.”

Rafayel was absolutely floored. “You have what?! Cutie!! My answer would have been different before if I’d known that!” Xavier was cupping the bottom of his chin, immediately deep in thought while the artist approached her in a flurry. “I never would have had you two at the same event if I’d known-!!” He cut himself off. “Nope.” He started pushing her towards her bedroom. “Pack.”

She batted at his hands. “And go where, Rafayel? Honestly it’s fine.”

He stared down at her like she’d grown a second head. “What do you mean “it’s fine”?!” He turned to the doctor and promptly grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him next to them both. “She listens to you. Talk to her.”

Zayne was pinching his brow again, lines of stress furrowing his face. “What exactly is your plan, Rafayel?”

“Simple.” He points to her. “You go on a nice beach vacation in Verona and the lightbulb over here goes and finishes his little murder spree.”

“That’s a terrible plan.” Zayne’s voice was more flat than she had ever heard it. He turned to Xavier. “What does he even mean by that?”

The other man shrugged, walking to stand beside the rest of them with a sigh. “I do some overtime in the N109 Zone sometimes. Protocore dealers and the like”

Zayne’s eyebrows climbed, something shadowed in his face. “Is that sanctioned…?”

“Does that matter?” She wanted to roll her eyes but Xavier was still speaking. “Christine wasn’t wrong when she said Sylus is near immortal. I’ve cut off his hands before and they grew back in seconds.”

What?! Holy shit!

Zayne was clearly thinking the same, hazel eyes wide with shock. “That’s a near impossibility, even for evolvers.”

She threw her hands up, stopping the spiral the three of them were clearly building towards. “You guys, you're freaking out about nothing.” Please don’t hurt Sylus… “ Honestly, I’m pretty sure he just wanted to see who was audacious enough to toss him across a room. You’re all acting like he’s going to show up and drag me away.”

“Your heart-”

She cut Xavier off. “No one outside of you three know about it, okay? I haven’t told anyone and Josephine's notes? Only you had those Zayne. Whatever happened when I was a child, all of that was destroyed in the Chronorift Catastrophe." Reaching out she grabbed them all as best she could in reassurance, three big bodies all immediately trying to wrap around hers. It made her flinch. “You guys really are ride or die, but let's not sign anyone up to die over nothing, okay?”

“But cutie.” Rafayel was half hunched over her where he was pressed in the middle, arms slung around Zayne and Xavier. “He approached you, right?”

Do or die time. “No.” The lie was easy on her tongue. “I approached him. I just thought he looked interesting and I wanted to say hi.”

Three stiffening bodies, heads drawing back to stare.

Xavier’s voice was skeptical. “You avoid men like the plague.”

“Yeaaahhh. You look at them like bugs who annoy you.”

She huffed. “That’s not true-”

Zayne interrupted her, arm jostling her slightly. “No, it is.”

Her head thumped onto her chest briefly before she straightened and stared at each of them in exasperation. “I don’t avoid you guys.”

Xavier again, voice tinged with a pout. “We’re different.”

She sighed lowly. “True true… still. I approached him so please, all of you, stop freaking out. I just… didn’t think he would grab me like that. I panicked when he did, okay? You all know I hate strangers touching me….”

They didn’t look convinced, pressed together like a shield wall, one that was scheming.

Rafayel broke the silence. “Weellll in that case. No harm in having a sleepover right?” He looked at each man firmly. “Get your things, yeah? We can all go over to my place and have a nice night.”

“I can stay in my-”

“No.” For the first time since she had met him the veneer was dropped. The artist squeezed the two men which in term squeezed her. “One night away won’t kill you cutie, but one night here might. Just indulge me, okay? Just this once?” His eyes were genuine, pleading, he was so clearly worried. She frowned, confused. What difference did it make if they were here or at his house? Did he have better security? Was it the proximity to the ocean?

With a sigh she gave in, anxiety flaring at the thought of spending the night somewhere else but… she had come so far and… truthfully, it would be nice. She’d sleep better…. Christine wasn’t actually sure what Sylus would do or what he was thinking right now but she did know he wasn’t an idiot. He was hardly going to pop out of the sky like a monster. It was ludicrous and surely they all knew that too. Did they think her information had been leaked? That all of Onychinus was after her?

A new thought occurred, chilling her to her core. It never said anywhere that Sylus and MC saw the same thing when he used his aether core. What if he saw her life, her real one? What if he had seen that she was an imposter, a fake. She shuddered, fear returning. Quietly she spoke. “Okay.”

Another squeeze, Xavier letting out a mild sound before the lemurian released them all and gestured for them to move. “Great! Pack then!”

He turned to the other two, pointing at Xavier. “I know you can get your clothes in a second,” to Zayne then. “You need to stop by your place?”

“No, I still have my overnight hospital pack.”

“Then it's a plan.”

She blinked as neither Zayne or Xavier refuted, the three of them urging her into her room and disappearing back into the living room. Her hackles raised briefly at the sound of their voices, all low, all pointed. She wasn't an idiot. They were clearly making some sort of plan but she was just too exhausted to care.

Christine rubbed her chest and shut the door. Alone, it burst, the careful wall she had constructed around herself. Her emotions were rolling and raging like an inferno released. She sobbed hard just once, hands curling into fists. I hate this, why me? Suddenly she was enraged. It boiled and frothed like a switch flipped as she tore the blanket off the mirror and glared at the woman in it. “Who the fuck were you?! Why are you still here?! Why are you taking my choices away from ME?!” Fists, she smashed them against the surface, headless of the noise as rage roared. “Haven’t I done enough?! Why can’t your ghost just fucking leave me?!”

She hadn't wanted to be dumped into this world but she'd accepted it. Worked hard to overcome and learn, and god knew she still had miles to go before she even caught up to MC's starting point. But the events of tonight. It was like a bucket of cold water. The tip of a terrifying iceberg she had been ignoring since entering this world.

Before, at least, she'd assumed she'd had agency. Destined love, the pressure of it, the cataclysmic weight of it, none of that was for her. Christine could still live authentically as herself even if she was starting from scratch. But if this world's rules were applied to her… What did that mean for her? What did it mean for them?! She heaved as the door burst open, staring at the cracked mirror with hatred.

Fuck you MC. The thought was deep rooted and ungenerous as big bodies gathered around her, worried and pressing. Fuck. You.

She tore away from them and stomped to her closet, grabbing clothes and throwing them on the bed. She forced the rage aside. It wasn't their fault. “Out.” The word was scarily calm and firm. They all stared at her in concern but she ignored it. Finger out she pointed to each of them. “And stop scheming behind my back, we're all gonna talk about this together once I get changed.” With that she shoved at them, pressing them back out the door one by one until she was alone again.

Clothes changed and packed, teeth brushed, she continued to froth. All the pressure of the last two and a half months bubbling from beneath her skin. Her thoughts drifted to Sylus, the feel of his hand engulfing the lower half of her face, the hint of… longing in his eyes the seconds before she had thrown him. With a low groan she covered her eyes and sighed.

Grabbing her toothbrush, pillow, charger and blanket she stomped back outside, catching Xavier similarly encumbered. To Zayne she spoke. “Want some of my blankets?”

“I have blankets he can use.” Rafayel butted in, hands fluttering nervously once more as he eyed the apartment around them.

She simply grunted in response, coming to stand between them all and gesturing for them to lead. “Right, let's go then.”

Christine followed them out to Zayne’s car, watching all their heads swivel to the surrounding buildings and sky suspiciously. She simply couldn’t be bothered, both afraid and not of the man she had just met. Mephisto had been observing her for months at this point, not having his presence was almost strange. In the car she hugged her pillow, Xavier at her side as they pulled out of her apartment and onto the highway, the ocean bright under the moonlight as they made their way to Rafayel’s house.

Christine had never actually been but she could remember art of it from the game. As they pulled onto a private bridge and crossed onto the island her breath stalled, eyes widening. Jesus he really is goddamn rich. Xavier at her side looked distinctly unimpressed with the whole thing, just barely eyeing the domed ceiling and white columns with a flat expression.

He spoke, “This is a big place.” Judgement.

Rafayel simply shrugged in the passenger seat. “Yuuppp.” He popped the “p” as they all piled out, urging them into the interior and leading them to a cavernous living room at the center of the house. She blinked and stared around. The large windows with a view out to the ocean, the dormant fireplace and long couches…. It made her immediately uncomfortable, luxury beyond her understanding. Zayne seemed to agree, drifting closer to her side with his overnight bag clasped carefully, eying the windows with a stiff back.

She caught his look and whispered under her breath. “Lots of sightlines huh?”

He blinked and nodded, lowering his head enough to whisper to her as Xavier and Rafayel talked ahead of them. “Yes, not very defensible.”

She smirked then, nudging him lightly. “When you were in the army, would this place be considered a bad place to be?”

“For facing down an enemy army? Yes. However, given that I do believe this is simply for comfort? It seems nice.”

Christine caught the cast of his expression, the faraway look as he eyed the two men now pacing the exterior with low voices. “What is it?”

He turned to her, concern furrowing his brow. “You weren’t surprised to hear about Xavier’s bounty, or that Rafayel knew about it.” He shifted then, shoulder just barely pressing to hers. “Doesn’t it concern you? Sometimes those well acquainted with monsters under their bed share their characteristics."

Man really was sharp as a whip. Poor guy was the only one here not aware of exactly how sketchy the company he’d been keeping for the last two months really was. Suddenly she felt terrible. Zayne was a doctor. He didn’t deal with the underworld or stalk MC like the rest. He cared for her heart and wrestled his nightmares. The cosmic weight of destiny absent from his calculator on her value. That he’d followed her here, despite his clear discomfort… Christine couldn’t bring herself to lie or feign ignorance, shrugging and pressing back into his shoulder briefly. “They’re sketchy as all hell Zayne, I think we both know that.”

He turned then, hazel eyes flashing. “And you trust them?”

Christine had never questioned it, not since coming here, not since those first few days. She had already known at least part of their sins, their transgressions. The dirty history they hid behind warm smiles and kind outings just for her. It had felt abstract. Murder on paper was hard to put against such kind faces. Xavier and Rafayel were both just as scary as Sylus, the only thing making her comfortable with them was their love for MC. For her…? She flinched and bowed her head. She’d never questioned if they would hurt her as long as she was in this body and she didn’t want to start now. “I do… it’s weird, right? They're both cage-y as hell and I’m pretty sure they both kill people.”

A deep breath. “Yes, that was my impression as well.” He pressed against her more firmly.

She smiled slightly, emotions boiling high in her chest. “Hey Zayne?”

He hummed lowly, comforting and solid.

Christine blinked back tears again, that overwhelming feeling burgeoning once more. “Thanks for coming along.”

A gentle pat on the top of her head, the scent of lavender and jasmine. “Of course.”

Xavier and Rafayel walked back at that, the two seemingly hashing out some sort of plan. The artist eyed the two of them before speaking. “Right, we’ll sleep here, yeah?”

Christine blinked, staring at the floor then at the other two men. “Don’t you have bedrooms?”

“Cutie.” He patted her shoulder and then gave her a gentle push towards the fireplace. “Sleepovers don’t mean separate rooms. Isn’t that like rule number one?”

Are you being serious?! She wanted to roll her eyes but she resisted, sighing lowly as the artist turned to leave, talking about grabbing blankets. Was their plan simply to jump Sylus if he came to grab her? Not that he would. He wasn’t an idiot, wasn’t trying to make a statement of power or kidnap her or whatever else they were anxious about. Or… was it her they were worried about? She stared around the living room with new eyes. Nothing sharp, nothing high… no weapons or things to take… Christine's chest ached, her fingers coming up to rub as Xavier and Zayne both watched her in concern. Ah…

She stepped away from them, staring out the windows to the ocean. The thought of it all unsettled her now that she felt closer to it. What did they even know of her, truly? Christine herself aside, what did they even know of MC to want her so badly? How possessive of them. How…. stupid of them. To chase a ghost who didn’t exist. She wasn’t even the woman they all wanted. She laughed to herself in her head. Christine was nothing like Sylus’ MC, nothing like Xavier's or Zayne’s or Rafayel's or Caleb's either. She’d thought it over and over, like poison in her mouth in months past but now it was almost relieving, a releasing of shackles.

How sad for them, to search for love where they’d expect to find it only to find her instead.

She pulled herself from her dark thoughts forcefully as Rafayel returned, laying out the sleeping bags and futons he’d brought against the couch. She stared at the arrangement with a shiver, frowning at the three men subtly. Christine knew herself, if she woke up with one of them tangled around her she’d lose her goddamn mind. “I’ll take the edge-”

“You get the middle.” It was an order, barely veiled from her hunter partner. He turned to the other two. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?”

She couldn’t believe his audacity, eyes widening and mouth thinning. “I really think-”

Zayne cut in, scowl deep. “She can make her own choices.” He gestured to the couch. “And there is a perfectly acceptable alternative.”

“Nu-uh.” Rafayel shook his head. “I dumped paint all over it before the gallery showing, it’s still wet.”

Christine moved closer, ready to chew his head off if he was lying but he wasn’t, the acrid smell of cleaning supplies strong as she touched its damp surface. Her shoulders hunched before she sighed, stomping back to the blanket pile and throwing her things down in the middle. “Any of you touch me and you die.” She flopped onto it, tugging the duvet up and over her shoulders and suddenly deeply missing Artsy Birb.

Zayne simply came up along her right and sat, the death glare in his green eyes clear. He wasn’t going to play any sort of game. It reminded her of her first night in her apartment as he settled, space kept carefully between them and his glare ready to freeze the world as the other two men hashed out the last spot.

Quietly he spoke. “Say the word and we leave.”

She blinked at him. “And if the big bad leader comes to get me?”

He frowned, fingers tightening subtly. “We improvise.”

She snorted, sighing softly. The lights dimmed, her heart rate kicking up as it cast Zayne’s face into darkness. Xavier on her left, Rafayel having clearly lost rock, paper, scissors. He was muttering, annoyed. “In my own house!” He sat on Xavier's other side as the hunter settled, leaving her a generous amount of space just like Zayne.

As they laid down she couldn’t help it. This is so fucking stupid. She laughed then, at first a soft chuckle that soon built to full on belly laughs. I’m lying on Rafayel's floor with Zayne and Xavier because they’re worried Sylus is going to pop up like a monster from a horror movie and come grab me. Or they think I’m going to end it all again. She was helpless to it. It was so ridiculous. “Crisse!” The swear rolled off her tongue, foreign and loud, her filter simply gone. Christine flipped onto her side, staring at Xavier and Rafayel with amusement.

“So are you two gonna tell the rest of the class the plan? Or are we really just having a sleep over as adults?”

Xavier shifted, tucking his hand beneath his cheek and staring at her angelicly. “I’ve never had a sleepover before.”

Rafayel hummed lowly. “Me neither.”

“That’s sad.” Zayne’s voice was dryer than the Sahara. “Still, what is the plan?”

The hunter spoke. “This island actually has really great security. Not that it would stop an intruder like Sylus but it does deter any other actors.”

Christine nodded sagely, simply surrendering to her fate and their anxieties. “Uh-huh, sooo what? We’re all gonna live here together now? You guys know this isn’t a solution right? I have to go back to work on Monday.”

Rafayel sighed. “Just trust us, cutie. Only one night, okay? I have some contacts who are doing some digging for me, checking some threads. Everything will be okay after that, yeah?”

Xavier nodded along, patting her hand gently once in reassurance. “Me as well. I have a friend who’s very good at what he does, don’t worry about it.”

She blinked, remembering both of them texting on their phones while they were all talking in her apartment and during the car ride. Her eyes bugged, mouth parting. Oh fuck they actually do have a plan. Were they hiding her presence? Checking into the explosion? Quietly she spoke. “Okay.” She rolled then towards Zayne, blocking out the other two and burying her face in her blanket again. “Thank you.”

Murmurs and rumbles of assent, shifting blankets and the smell of paint, the sea and something floral. It was nice. Their breathing lulled her, memories of countless hours of listening to the Sleep Time feature having her eyes droop faster than she would have thought possible. Truthfully… she did feel safe with them, her stupid, wonderful devoted boys.

My boys… not MC’s… they're my friends now… right? Christine's eyes scrunched, tears leaking quietly as she wrestled with herself. They’re doing this for me… not for anyone else. Not for some… ghost they barely knew. More tears, she stuffed the blanket against her mouth to stop the sound of her breaths from echoing. Was I ever alive? Am I even alive now? Who am I? No. Stop it. Stop it. STOP. Her shoulders hunched. Just sleep. Deal with this tomorrow, stop thinking about this. Stop… STOP!!!

A hand on her cheek, fleeting and gentle. Her eyes fluttered open, the cast of Zayne’s gaze just barely visible in the dark. He hesitated and then gently laid his hand between them, palm up, offered. Christine paused, mouth scrunching and heart hammering before she slowly laid her fingers across his palm, not a true hand hold but a grounding touch. He accepted it easily, gently squeezing once before leaving his hand open and relaxed. Slowly, she eased her foot backwards until her toe tapped Xavier's calf. Grounding, it was grounding to feel their presence.

Tomorrow, I’ll deal with this all… tomorrow.

------

Something was staring at her. Christine blinked awake in a haze, Zayne on her right and Xavier on her left, neither man was touching her, distance maintained. Something felt deeply, terribly wrong. Her mind was screaming even as sleep clung to the edge of her consciousness. It was still dark outside, the floor still digging into her back and hip. Why…?

Sluggishly she looked down, there, at the foot of their sleeping bags, two toned eyes stared back at her. Her brain registered it as Rafayel even as something in her was unsettled. There was something off about the shape of his eyes, the movement of his head and the stretch of his shoulders as he touched his chest. Uncanny, strange… alien. Rimmed in moonlight he looked dangerous. He caught her eyes and shifted, coming closer but still hidden, movement odd. He spoke, his voice melodic, gentle, terrifying.

“Go back to sleep.” Two toned, bass and tenor layered like two people speaking at once.

Immediately her eyes began to droop even as something in her clamored. Her hind brain was wailing, warnings jolting through her body as adrenaline tried to rage. Why weren’t Xavier and Zayne waking up? There was a monster at the foot of the bed… She tried to stay awake, eyes blinking desperately as he shifted enough for the moonlight to hit his face. WRONG. Something was wrong with him! She panicked even as her eyes continued to shut, heart clamoring. The too wide stretch of his mouth, the sparkle of blue on his face and neck. She knew what he was but he had never looked like this, why-?

“Ssshhhh.” His voice was so close, that uncanny face leaning over Zayne who rested, relaxed and unaware. Zayne was in danger, he was-!!! A hand on her cheek once more, the texture of it strange, the nails on it long, the other pressed hard over his chest. Right where the bond mark should be. “Sleep my beloved bride… You’re safe. I won’t let anyone take you away.”

Like a stone she was dropped into slumber.

--------

She woke in stages, warmth registering first, weighted and calming. Breathing behind her, steady and familiar, the smell of the ocean and paint. The ocean… Christine jerked upright like she had been electrocuted, blankets falling to her waist as she blinked around the bright light of Rafayel’s living room. A shiver raced up her spine. Had that just been a nightmare last night? Had that been real? She glanced around wary, heart thundering. Xavier at her back, asleep still, Zayne on her right was gone, and beside Xavier… Lavender hair, a lump beneath blankets.

She stared, fingers twisting, leaning over the hunter to see the artist's face. Smooth and calm, beautiful even in sleep. No trace of the monster from last night. She shuddered and leaned back, fingers twisting once more. She startled as a presence touched her from behind, gasping audibly as Zayne stared at her, a concerned tilt to his brow. He gestured for her to follow him, the two of them making their way to Rafayel’s kitchen.

He slid the door shut and approached, hazel eyes searching. “Are you okay?”

Christine nodded, head aching, mouth dry. “I’m fine, just… had a weird dream last night.” She shivered and pointed back to the main room. “Should we wake them?”

He shook his head. “We all took shifts keeping watch last night, best to let them sleep.”

She groaned, embarrassed, slumping into the bar stool and placing her head in her arms. “You guys really are ridiculous you know that right? Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Zayne nodded, grabbing a free mug from one of the shelves and then pointing at the coffee machine. “Indeed, it does feel like an overreaction this morning. Still, it’s better to be safe rather than sorry. Coffee?”

“Please.” As he moved to make her a cup she sighed, thoughts drifting like gossamer in a breeze. The fears of the night before felt small, her existential crisis diverted. With clenched fists she stared at Zayne, the only man here who actually had any history in this life with MC. It was bursting in her then. Secrets upon secrets. Things she simply couldn’t bear anymore. She had to talk to someone. “There was something else last night. Another reason why….” She stalled, hiding her face as he came back and placed the cup before her.

“I see.” No judgement, only worry. “What happened?”

“I have a hypothetical first.” Christine paused again, jaw clenching. “What if… you read a story. And let's say, you really liked that story and all the characters in it. Then, one day you wake up and voila! You’re there, living and breathing it.” She turned and caught the assessing gleam of hazel eyes while tears threatened her own. “Sounds like a dream right? Except, you’re nothing like the main character, but you try to be like them. You try every goddamn day but you always fall short. And then, you meet one of the characters. And this character, they show you something. Something only the main character should see. A step in the plot of the story. What would that mean, Zayne? Are you still you? Are you them? Or does it even mean anything at all?”

Silence. It was practically a confession for all that she sounded like an insane person. He was clearly mulling over a response, fingers light around the rim of his mug. Finally he spoke. “I think any identity is just a role we temporarily play. It doesn’t encapsulate the meaning of one’s existence.” She blinked, staring at him, mute. He smiled just slightly, words measured. “No matter what identity and responsibilities this… protagonist had, the you of now, has been living just fine. The choices you make, the people you care for, those are real. That you experienced something you ascribed to fate… it doesn’t matter. The only thing written for you is what you choose to write.”

Tears welled, her chest ached. Thank you. She couldn’t say the words, blubbering quietly before reaching out an arm tentatively. His eyes widened in shock before he leaned forward, gathering her in his arms and patting her back gently. There she cried, silently against his shoulder, snot and tears mixing embarrassingly as her body hitched and heaved. Finally she forced the words out. “Okay.” His hand was gentle in her hair, his fingers warm on her back. Comfort offered, for her, not the ghost of a woman gone. Christine had to believe that or she’d lose her mind. Quiet again. “Okay….”

She didn’t want to pull back. Jasmine and lavender, the slight sting of the hospital. No wonder MC was always running to Zayne when things got tough. She’d read posts about it, vague mentions of Zayne in Homecoming Wings and Death Rebirth, spoilers dodged like a woman on a mission. Suddenly she shuddered, hands tightening on his back. Death and Rebirth, there had been countless posts crying about Zayne, something about him leaving? Or something bad happening to him? No. Her hands tightened even more, his body curving towards her in response. Christine wouldn’t let anything happen to any of them. If she lost them she didn’t know what she would do. It settled in her bones, another promise. I’ll keep you all safe too.

Reluctantly she pulled back, wiping her face and smiling sheepishly as he watched her carefully.

Softly he spoke again. “Now, your hypothetical aside. What happened?”

Christine picked and discarded several responses, exhaustion high. I just don’t want to deal with this alone anymore. She was vaguely aware of the door opening behind her, of footsteps and voices but her focus remained on Zayne, mouth drawing out the words quietly. “He knew me.”

A tilted head, halted footsteps at her back. She was barely aware, staring down into her coffee.

“He knew me and… I knew him too.”

A frown, it furrowed his brow as footsteps came closer.

“How so?”

She shook her head, courage bubbling and then fizzling out. I’ll say what I can.“You guys said yesterday that it seemed like I woke up and just knew you.”

He nodded, while her peripherals filled with two new presences. She couldn’t look at them, staring straight into hazel eyes instead, the one person here who really wouldn’t get what she was about to say. Cowardly.

Deep breath, fingers clenching. “What if I said… you weren’t exactly wrong?”

A sharp inhale on her right, ashy hair waving as Xavier shifted. He didn’t say anything which she was deeply grateful for. Zayne drew her focus once more. “Explain.”

You can do this. Christine was so scared. Her hands shook with it, the pressure of it, the weight of it. How to tell them even part of the truth without sounding insane. Warmth on her shoulder, the smell of the ocean and paint, Rafayel gently squeezed, grounding.

“I’m going to sound crazy.”

“That’s okay.”

So blunt. Another deep breath, another grounding count of her fingers and toes before words began to flow. “The explosion, when I died.” Stiffening bodies and concerned sounds, Xavier and Rafayel hadn’t known. “When I… rebooted on your operating table and blew the room apart. What if I told you I saw a whole other life during that time?”

Zayne didn’t even blink, just nodded encouragingly as her hands twisted.

“I did. See… another life I mean. And you were all in it. I… knew you. That’s why I just… know all these things about all of you now.” She blew out a stressed breath and broke eye contact, hands wringing almost violently as she fought the panic yawning wide in her chest. “Sylus was there too, that’s also why I… why I-” Christine stopped, mouth working almost soundlessly. “I’m sorry…”

Xavier dipped, engulfing her from the side as she began to gasp for air. He was warm, the smell of cedar and ozone. She melted into it, sniffling.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I woke up and I didn’t know what to do and everything was different! I wasn’t as I should be I’m sorry-!! I didn’t want to lie to any of you-!” It was like she didn’t know any other words, heaving and gasping. Rafayel quickly held her too, purple hair brushing against her cheek as he breathed with her.

“Oh cutie…”

Zayne, his hands gentle where they grasped hers.

“It’s okay.” Xavier, his voice so calming, so soothing. She latched on to it desperately as she kept gasping apologies. “Christine, it's okay…”

They don’t understand. She cried for her cowardice, this half truth she had presented to them. They let her vent it out, even as she could see the questions stark in their eyes. As her tears became sniffles Zayne spoke.

“It's more common than you would think to medically experience “other lives” when placed in a coma. Even though you were only sedated for a few days, that's no small feat. Many people have reported periods of time ranging from days to years, and to them, those lives felt just as real as the one you're living now. That you built us into it is… interesting. That you constructed something for a stranger even more so.” Another gentle squeeze of her hand, their presences still reassuring over pressuring. “But I wish you would have leaned on us. That sounds very difficult to understand…”

He's just trying to be supportive. He doesn't understand. Christine nodded even as Xavier gently released her, the look on his face intense. She caught the cast of his blue eyes, caught the shadow of theories and dissection beneath his lashes.

Xavier hummed lowly. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Rafayel stiffened like a brick even as Zayne looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, the barest annoyed tinge to his brows.

She hesitated, shrugging and then nodding and then shaking her head. Conflicted beyond measure. “I- I don't know, maybe?”

The hunter nodded, gaze faraway. “Some religions believe we're reborn lifetime after lifetime. An endless cycle within the cosmos.” His head dipped, fingers gentle as he pulled strands of hair that were sticking to her wet cheeks. “The mind forgets but the soul remembers…” He trailed off at the look of veiled judgement on Zayne's face and the blank one on the artist, shrugging lightly. “Nevermind…” He offered a faint smile before pulling away, shoulders crawling towards his ears as he promptly turned to raid Rafayel's kitchen, vulnerability hidden once more.

She stared after him, heart thundering. The Lightseeker blade, he had recognized the resonance skill, she had been positive. Xavier the one man who truly had a single solid thread through all of this. She swallowed hard as Rafayel squawked in the background, on his feet and immediately chasing the hunter from his fridge. “You're not cooking anything in here! Out! I'm cooking!”

Christine tuned them out as Zayne sighed and entered the fray, squeezing her hand once before approaching the other two men now sniping over eggs. Xavier definitely thought she was remembering MC’s past lives. Oh no… The thought was almost sluggish, a slow sting of guilt curling through her gut. I’ve made this worse. Slowly she stared down at her fingers, mouth compressing. She flexed them. Once, twice, watching the curl of scared hands and perfect nails.

Christine shoved the thought away violently and stood, the need for a distraction paramount. “Hey, I'm cooking, you guys all sit.”

“But-”

She cut off the artist and pushed on them all with firm hands. “You guys were pulling shifts and doing shady deals while I slept like a baby so just sit and enjoy. You can do the dishes after.”

They obeyed with various grumbles and looks of annoyance as she took an inventory of Rafayel's ingredients. Normally she would feel so anxious about opening someone else's fridge but her mind was too crowded, thoughts a constant buzz. In a daze she cooked, peripherally aware of them talking. Xavier and Rafayel, whatever they had done last night had come back clear, or as clear as could be. The aether core in her heart, EVER, no one was aware yet, not least thanks to the fact she hadn’t gone to the Nest and boldly announced her value to the world. No sign of Sylus or Onychinus but she wasn’t surprised. While they didn’t understand his motivations she did, at least to a certain extent.

Breakfast passed cordially, more checks on phones, calls interspersed between bites as both Rafayel and Xavier wrapped up with their contacts. Zayne stayed by her side, watching the other two and frowning.

Afterwards as they cleaned, Rafayel gave her a house tour, the other two men following sedately. He showed her his studio and his library, the dock and his salt water pool. He even proudly took them to the location of his terrarium. She nodded along, lost in her own head, annoyed as they all seemed to be trying to keep her just a bit longer. Eventually she couldn’t take it.

“Hey.” They all stopped, beautiful eyes and warm, exhausted faces. She felt bad as she stared at the bags under their eyes, the hollow cast of too little sleep in all their expressions. Christine clenched her jaw, reaching out and once more carefully hugging each of them, taking comfort instead of fear in the press of their bodies for the first time since she’d arrived. She drew back and smiled, truly and genuinely. “Thank you guys, really.” She patted their arms one by one, expression earnest. “It’s okay though, right? Everything's all good?”

She could see the protest in blue and sunset eyes, Zayne quietly observing and deferring to the other two.

Christine shook her head and laughed. How blessed to have people who care so much. The thought settled warm, chasing away the lingering fear and dissociation. However, she needed time alone and without them to just… think. She’d deal with Sylus whenever he came back, no doubt sooner rather than later, but she had to have her head organized by then.

It took another two hours of stubborn defiance from both Rafayel and Xavier before they caved, relenting as whatever they had been doing came back clear, again.

As she put on her shoes she could hear Xavier talking in the background, promising the other two men he would keep an eye out. If Christine had been as strong as MC, as good of a fighter, their behavior would have probably annoyed the shit out of her. But as a civilian barely turned hunter, she was deeply grateful for it.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet, that familiar piano music comforting. It then took another hour for both Xavier and Zayne to leave, repeated insistences of check-in texts before bed. Sliding the door shut, she was alone at last.

In a fugue state she returned to MC’s bedroom… her bedroom, the shattered remains of the mirror still strewn across the desk. Quietly she cleaned it, staring at her reflection in each fractured shard, the irony of the moment not lost on her.

She ate, she showered, dressed herself in the clothes Zayne had bought for her all those months ago. She hung up the dress Rafayel had given her and fixed her bedding, Artsy Birb shoved under her arm. Each moment, each movement, a metronome to the rush of her thoughts. Red eyes, they stared at her from her balcony but she didn’t close the blinds, watching Mephisto quietly. A flash of light moments later, the bird fleeing once more. Christine stayed in that state all the way until bed, goodnight texts delivered and blankets pulled high up to her chin.

------

Another emergency surgery, another cancelled workout session, she went alone, thoughts still rushing like sludge. Routine was helpful, routine was a godsend. The Hunter’s Association was quiet when she arrived, far earlier than she’d ever been before, her coworkers blessedly absent. Christine approached her computer, still in a daze, unpacking her bag and listening to the music in her headphones. It was times like these where she really missed the music of her world. Placing down her mug she stopped, something black catching her eye. She stared down at her keyboard where a dark envelope lay, unmarked and burnished in red with a single black feather. Slowly she grabbed it, opening the seal with slightly trembling hands, mouth drying. The note inside was simple. “Meet me on the roof tonight at 20:00.” Nothing else, no hints, no nothing. But she knew immediately who it was from.

Christine couldn’t help it, she laughed, eyes just barely skirting up to catch the gleam of red mechanical eyes watching her. For some reason, it was so… hilarious. This dramatic ass-!!! Did he think she recognized him from the Hunters Associations wanted posters? Was this a statement of nonchalance? Of power? A “come and get me if you can”? She chuckled, tears beading from how hard she was trying to breathe. She hoped Sylus was watching, confused and worried, his composure shaken. Deliberately she waved to Mephisto, a cheeky wink and a salute as more chuckles shook loose, the envelope carefully hidden in her work bag.

The workday passed in a blur. Xavier's worried presence was always hovering as she kept randomly chuckling. Patrol was, thankfully, uneventful, even as she constantly felt eyes on her. Her hunter partner lingered by her desk as the day came to an end, waiting eagerly so he could accompany home.

“Sorry Xavier, I have plans tonight.” He immediately looked slightly put out, mouth thinning.

“Oh, I didn’t realize one of the others had already made plans with you.”

What did it say about her social circle that Xavier was so sure she was seeing Zayne or Rafayel? She didn’t correct him, just smiled and waved as he packed up and left, blue eyes staring back at her over his shoulder.

Christine sighed, deciding to kill time by going to get dinner. One thing she truly loved about Linkon was the sheer volume of individual dining options. Eating alone back home would have been an experiment in social humiliation but here? Individual hot pots and sushi boats, amazing!

Determinedly she enjoyed her hot pot, fighting to savor it even as it tasted like ash on her tongue as her bravado waned the closer and closer the time came. Her stomach twisted viciously as she paid and walked around the mall by the Association, silly keychains purchased as she fought to relax. She paused for only a second by the kiosk before cheekily adding a “Grumpy Crow” one to her pile. Before she knew it, it was time. Heavy steps carrying her back to work and up to the roof, anxious hands wringing quietly.

The roof of the Hunter’s Association was usually a calming place, somewhere she’d come a couple times. Mostly with Tara or Simone of all people. Christine pulled the envelope from her bag and stared down at the note in her hand. Best to just get this over with, right? She fought her nerves again, the cowardly desire to return to her apartment and ignore the world outside. She spared a thought for the others before sighing, ears straining. They would be so pissed if they knew what she was doing right now.

So lost in thought, Christine almost missed it, the shuffle of cloth, the feel of eyes. She turned then, watching quietly as Sylus emerged from the darkness of the surrounding building. He was dressed in a black motorcycle jacket and pants, splashes of red accents bright across its shoulders. He was staring as he approached, assessing the arrogant smirk from the gallery absent.

Christine felt like crying but she straightened and faced him. “Hello again.”

He quirked one silver brow, stopping several paces away. “Oh? You’re not surprised? Did I leave that much of an impression?”

She just smiled flatly. “I’d like to think I’m not that stupid.” Christine pointed to Mephisto, shadowed and hopping on the ledge behind him.

Red eyes flashed, the colour of them really was uncanny, but beautiful. Seeing him now, outside the panic of their initial meeting she finally allowed herself to take him in. Sylus… He was as real as the rest, his size something that definitely stood out. A strong jaw and nose, broad chest and large hands. Christine swallowed slightly as he came closer, weariness high. Still…. still, deep in the recess of her mind she could admit. It's so cool to see you! Fear really wasn't a big enough deterrent in life, was it?

He interrupted her thoughts, head dipping and eyes searching, hands casually slipping into his pockets. “The artist told you who I was?”

She nodded, fingers clenching.

A chuckle, low, rich, deep, the type of line she used to save all the time from memories. “And… what did he tell you I wanted with you?”

Christine shrugged, deliberately nonchalant as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “He didn't know.”

A rumbling hum. “Then… what do you think I want with you?”

She wasn't going to out herself so easily. Instead she smiled, meeting his eyes head on and simply tilting her head. “You tell me. The only business I could have with Onychinus would be to do with the explosion at my childhood home. But seeing how your group wasn't actually responsible…” She trailed off as he smirked, this odd dance of words between them making her heart clamor.

He meanwhile was clearly enjoying it. “What makes you so certain?”

Christine simply sighed. “I have my ways.”

A nod, a contemplative expression, he was coming closer again, her body stiffening against her will as the gap lessened. “Hmm. Then,” A pause, pointed, searching, sarcastic. “ You mentioned a dream?”

Fuuuccckk that really was a stupid thing to do.

She stared at him head on, refusing to blink. What else could she call her world? Christine didn’t even know the truth herself anymore. “Yeah.”

Another quirk of his brow, the faintest hint of frustration. “Oh, do tell then.”

Christine became deadpan, eyes glaring. “You were a dragon, or maybe a vampire? It was a weird dream. Probably saw your face on a wanted poster and made up some wild fantasies about it. You have a certain look to you, you know?” That was cruel. But the blow landed, carmine eyes going wide before narrowing into slits.

“Is that right…?”

She nodded, forcing herself to feign nonchalance as he stepped even closer, his silhouette now towering and commanding, her nerves kicking into gear at his sheer size. Throwing him once had been a fluke, doing it again, a near impossibility. If Christine had been her old height… She shook the thought away and sighed. “Yes it is. Now. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Assessing, calculating, she held her breath. In the story MC went to him, rage and accusations on her tongue. It had set the entire tone of their dynamic at the start. Turned it into something transactional and antagonistic. There was no need for that here but since he didn’t have a reason to seek her out, what was he even going to say?

He seemed to settle, fingers reaching for her face once more almost absentmindedly. She seized, jerking back before they could connect, hands tightening. “Do you want me to throw you again?” Don’t touch me…

A smile, it was unnerving. “You’re lucky I don’t prey on the weak, kitten.”

Her heart was a traitor, she was practically giddy at hearing that stupid nickname.

He let out a slight mocking sigh, staring down at her intently. “In truth I have a… simple request for you.”

“And that is…?”

“Resonate with me.” His gaze was fixed, that subtle longing just barely peeking there once more. If Christine hadn’t known to look, she’d never have seen it, the… yearning... “That is what I want.”

“So that’s why your bird has been following me?” She swallowed, hard. “What do I get in return?” False bravado, channeling MC, god she could barely do it.

A smirk, the barest tilt of his head. “Did you think this was a request?”

Fuuuuccckkk!! Panic was beginning to clamor, the rumblings of it a familiar friend. Maybe I really shouldn’t have come here alone. Christine let out a disbelieving huff, forcing nonchalance even as her arms crossed defensively. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you try to force me, I can’t.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Good god that sounded menacing. “Because I can’t resonate well with anyone. I got blown up two months ago and I forgot how.” It sounded lame as she said it, for all that it was also the truth.

“Really?” He tilted his head, pausing for a moment before his hand snapped out, seizing her wrist and dragging her closer.

She hadn’t been expecting it, hadn’t been braced for it. Her heart thundered, panic roaring, the beginnings of an anxiety attack clamoring. Don’t…!

“Try.” The demand was firm as he pulled, her body now inches from his, the heat and breadth of him, the heavy weight as he backed her up and pinned her. No!!!

“Get off me.” She could barely form the words, breathing exercises and wiggled limbs failing her. Sylus was either willfully blind or misattributing her fear, that smirk still in place as he forced her to lean back across the roofs railing. Christine was an idiot. Enamored with the Sylus of the last card she had played. Soft, gentle, warm and teasing… Main story: Sylus, she’d forgotten, willfully and blindly. Fuucccckkkk!

He didn’t respond, fingers forcing their way through hers as he seized her hand. Energy, it flowed, it burned. She jerked, pinned, trapped, panic roaring. Big body and warm breath, a hand that didn’t let go. NO! Fight kicked in, her entire body rolling underneath his as she jerked, teeth bared. NEVER AGAIN! The thought rang as she clenched her jaw and threw herself forward, headbutting him straight in the nose.

He caught his nose with his free hand as she writhed like a feral thing, her body still pinned. Close, still too close. Christine had had ENOUGH. She widened her stance, body heaving. She wasn’t that same girl, she wasn’t going to put up with this, she wasn’t going to allow this. Red eyes widened but she didn’t let him adjust. He was tall. How unfortunate for him.

Foot on the railing behind her she surged upwards free hand grasping for leverage as she kicked forwards, her aim true. He staggered back with a grunt as she kneed him hard in the groin, pressing hands falling away as she gasped desperately for air, memories still burgeoning and clamoring. He half collapsed, mouth parted to take in air as she practically hissed at him.

“Never touch me without my permission ever again!” She stepped forward, chest heaving as he stared. “Do you understand?!”

Christine hated that he looked delighted. It was hidden of course, layered under a sneer, but the smirk was still there. He didn’t get it, didn’t understand. Suddenly she was well and truly furious, all thoughts or feelings of warmth fleeing. Sylus was thinking of some other version of her. Memories of violence that led to love, trying to spark the emotions of a ghost. Trying to kill each other was practically par for the course for him and MC. But that wasn’t who Christine was.

With a low sound she spun away, determined and hurt, her chest heavy. It ached that she was… disappointed. The man whose cards she’d watched felt far off right now, miles away from the man on the ground beside her, the stranger. No wonder MC and him had such a rocky start. She attempted to step away, jerking as she was stopped by a yank on her wrist. This fucking guy! “Let go of me!”

She spun around just as his chuckle hit her ears.

“Oh kitten… “ He was where she had left him, licking the blood from his upper lip before smoothing his thumb below it, red and black energy following in its wake. She stared, eyes almost comically wide, from his hands to his wrist, to the red linkage burning between them.

Oh no.