Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mutant rights aren’t something that ‘normal’ people tend to consider a priority. The very term ‘mutant’ sets us aside from humans- makes it easier to single us out.

Mutant rights aren’t even really a thing at all, to begin with.

I mean, at this point it’s kind of an oxymoron. Our fathers had rights… and they squandered them. Fucked it up for everyone who came after them.
So if you’re thinking ‘oh that's a mutant and therefore it’s okay to hurt them because they are not human’- then the terminology has served its purpose.

Talking about mutant rights would get someone into a lot of trouble in our day and age.

Especially if it was human.

Most ‘mutant activists’ were sent to the deepest darkest hellhole the government could find.

Afterall- standing up for mutants? With how dangerous we’re supposed to be? That’s a clear sign of insanity.
Those people were just treated as their mental states suggested they be.

Once the outspoken ones were out- there were the sneakier supporters. The ones who smuggled mutants out of places and let them go.
Then there were the ones who were unlucky enough to love a mutant partner.

All mutant/human marriages were annulled. null and void- I guess?

If humans were marrying and mating with mutants- there were more people to stand up against those who were trying to push the whole ‘mutant monster’ narrative. And the more people you have to stand against you- the less support you have.

We’ll never know how many of us came from human/mutant pairings.
We’ll never know a lot of things.

What we do know- what we’re told from day 1 of our miserable lives- is that standing against the humans in any way shape or form will lead to swift and permanent retaliation.

Death.

Not only for you but anyone you held near and dear.
Honestly, it’s better to be a bit of a loner nowadays.
That way if you fuck up and get caught there’s less of a chance you’ll accidentally take someone you care about down with you.

We’re a scourge on humanity.A blight on existence. God’s one major fuck up. We are permitted to exist because in hating us, the humans were able to discard their thousand-year history of hating each other.

As long as there is a stigmatized group there will always be unity amongst the other groups who seek to destroy them. We are alive at this very moment as a 'reminder'.  In a sense, is humans thanking us for our contribution to peace between them.

A mutant is not a citizen- humans are citizens. 
We are property.

Lucrative in some cases.
Liabilities in others. 

While we toil and suffer- the Humans want for nothing.

Reality shifting mutants can summon whatever the population needs.
Food? Protection? Power- energy. 
We have within us potential- I would say 'untapped' but the humans have more than tapped it. 
The right mutant can power an entire city for weeks if used correctly. 
And when they are 'used'? There are more to choose from. 
The energy supply is almost endless. 

The humans went beyond that, though. 

Their planet was dying. (I don't call it 'our' planet as I do not believe that we are supposed to be here at all.) 
overpopulation. The climate was getting too hot. The air was polluted. 

But- do you know what can change all of that?
Weather and thermo manipulators. 

They can cool the earth or heat it. 

Controlling the weather directly can help crops grow. They can stop the rain or make it-  there are no drought or floods. 
There are no global disasters. No hurricanes. no Tsunamis. 
No earthquakes.
Humans have used us to completely perfect their world.

At least- the US and its allies have. 
I’m not allowed to watch the news or read any papers so…. I don’t know about the rest of the world.In fact, I know pretty much next to nothing about the human world at all. 
I've never been able to watch Tv. 
I've never used a computer. 
I've never held a phone. 

I know what my master tells me and what my customers let slip.
There are a few who seem to think that mutants don’t understand most verbal languages.

It's a common idea that we can't dispute because we can't argue with humans.  This is helped by the fact that most of us aren’t allowed to speak anyway- and thus we’ve invented hand signals that are mostly taught in hopes that we can say what needs to be said... without actually saying a word.

Once we were a strong people struggling for our place in the world.
But that? that is a fairy tale at this point.
I don’t know how much truth it has to it.
Maybe it’s just something that the older children told us growing up to make us sleep better.

Our history is told in short blurbs.
Written onto spaces that we do not have access to anymore.

What I know is what has been told to me by older people.
Those people are dead now.
The story is supposed to have died with them.

I was told that some mutants used the term ‘homo superior’ back then. And… that in doing so may have sparked this ‘revolution’ the humans had against them. The one where despite all of the effort and time every single mutant hero and villain put into effect… they still lost.

We… still lost.

Mutants aren’t worth much nowadays. A good pedigree will get you further than most but… you’re still not human.
There is no homo ‘superior’. We’re not even on the same playing field. We’re not cut from the same universal cloth and humanity was all too happy to show us.

We are living- I am living, I mean- in the second wave of the new world order that the mutants made. The one where our value is purely decided on what we can give the humans- the beings who dominate everything. Not only are we not human- we’re not seen as anything other than property. Mutants had to be squashed- there were too many rumors of an uprising.

Somehow we went from a thriving population to… captives.
The ‘s’ word is not one we are allowed to say.
And I’d hate for a telepath to pick up on me thinking it and turn me into our ‘corrective officer’.
Not when I’m down to my last night here.

I honestly can’t believe mutants used to be actually worth something.. morally. So many of us are just doing what we’re told- there is no ‘right’ and there is no ‘wrong’.You do what you are told to do because you are told to do it.

Knowing what I’ve personally done- the ways I’ve been used up- I can’t see any way that we were once even slightly moral. Not from where I am now. Not from what I’ve seen.

You’re a fuck toy, a caretaker, a breeder, or a worker. And that’s all you will ever be.

I find it hard to believe there was ever ANYTHING other than what we have.

But I’ve seen the old footage- the old pictures. The ones they use in un-training videos. The ones they show the wild mutants they catch. It's the only 'entertainment' I've ever been able to watch. 

Those 'caught' mutants are few and far between- though.

I’m told they’re so unruly that most of them die well before they even get to a city for any kind of training. That they kill themselves and each other when they see that they're going to be caught. They’d rather die in the wild than submit to our overlords. They’d rather die than make peace with the fact that humans are trying to make a better world. And that… sadly… we have to fit into the part we fit into at the moment.

It’s not like every young boy or girl trapped in a pleasure stable doesn’t at one point dream of revolution. And it’s not like ever hard laborer doesn’t dream at least once about smashing the skulls of the officers who preside over them.

We all think it every once and while.

That is when sanity kicks in.
We are the product of the men and women who came before us- the mutants who lived, fought, and died for a cause that would … never be.

There were teams in the past. There were battles. There were victories- defeats. A few hand-selected mutants were going to change the world for all mutants. And everyone just blindly placed their faith into them. The x-men. X-force. Excalibur.Our only ray of hope in the darkest of days. Fighting the fight- publically. In everyone’s faces. Standing up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.

Looking around this current ‘abode’ I see the remnants of their existence.
Boys and girls- perfumed, makeup clad, and half-starved- the result of bloodlines decades- sometimes centuries- in the making. The closer you are to the original, though- the better sell value you have. And the sell value you have is all that stands between you and your demise. We’ve been trained from the very first thought we could form that this was our way of life. That this is all we would ever have.

Sexwork is something that isn’t as common as people would like to believe.
And the society we live in isn’t very ‘dystopian’. We exist in a society that is the result of our parents and grandparents fighting a fight that they could not win.

We are the lucky ones.
The children that came before us- just by a mere five years- were executed by the dozens.

Most of us have lost older siblings.

And it should come as no surprise that a majority of the x-men died in the intense battle.
There was chemical warfare, political unrest, and eventually just plain executions.

Some of the ‘notable’ bloodline heads ran off- they’re out in the wild now. Fighting against the powers that be and making a fucking mess for everyone. Some of them are the originators of the very bloodlines that sell oh so highly in the pleasure stables. People hate that these men and women could possibly be making MORE children and NOT giving them over to the officers.

It’s demanded that mutant children be removed from their parents and taken to wherever the humans see fit.

We’re marked from birth by what pedigree we are.
Then, when we get older, how attractive we are.

If we do not fit the mold as they think we should- they will make us undergo painful ‘elective’ surgeries.
A girl isn’t maturing as fast as her male customers would like? She will be forced to undergo whatever surgery her owner deems fit.
A boy is not as ‘muscular’ as they would like? He is now to perform manual labor to an extent that is almost the level he would if he were put into that class.
Fatness is not allowed under any circumstances. Which is why most of us are so weak all of the time.

Our dietary restrictions are completely insane.

I’ve seen old pictures in old ‘magazines’- I think is what they are called… we’re not allowed books or any such materials. The men and women that were famous? Far heavier than we are.
And they were considered ‘fit’. They had the body types that men and women craved. If we were to look like that? I don’t think they'd feed us for a year.

This is only a standard applied to mutants- mind you.
The customers of our stable are as big as the men and women in those pictures… or bigger.
Some men make it feel like I’m suffocating when they’re on top of me.

The different bloodlines are expected to be contained in various ways- power-wise.
Most of us don’t even know what our powers are. We’re labeled mutants at birth but kept in ‘stables’ that have military-grade power dampeners.
So… we know we’re different.
We just don’t know.. .why.

Of course, some mutants LOOK like mutants.
But… those are few and far between.
They don’t sell well and are mainly used for hard labor.

Again- I guess it depends on your pedigree.

Me?
I’m as close to the original bloodlines as you can get- being a son of direct descent from a ‘valued’ team member. I suppose he was known to make pretty babies- as several people have joked about it during my childhood.

I’ve never seen his face.
Or my mother's face- I don’t even know her name.
I have a codename to go off of, though. And it’s the same name I’ve had attached to my own on every identification form I’ve ever had.

They don’t teach us how to read or write- but you learn what that name means.
It’s always situated on the left-hand side of the official paperwork.
Housing us is impossible if they don’t have a registry- after all.

So, you learn your bloodline.
You learn your ‘sires’ codename.
Not their name. Not your faceless mother’s name. Just a codename. Something to make the filing easier.

Most of us honestly don’t even have names of our own.
Nicknames- yes. In some stables or compounds.
But no one set about naming us when we were young.

Names have a sense of self.
We? We don't need that.
The humans don’t want to give us that. You have the head of your bloodline’s codename and that? That is it.

Somewhere, there is a massive registry-housing all known mutants.
I would kill- literally kill- to see my entry.
To see what I am supposed to be called.

They don’t even officially give us an identifying number.

When you’re old enough to stand- you get your first marking- a branded symbol on your left wrist. As you come into your looks/personality maybe around age 9? You get your second. Tells what kind of ‘mutant’ you are. (Pleasure/work/service). This mark is on your right ankle.
At age 12- your final mark- on your right ankle just by the second mark. If you stayed the same projected class- you get the same symbol in a different color. If you changed- you get a different symbol of the same color.

A ‘perfect’ model would have three marks, two of the same symbol, all three in different colors.
(colors represent price value).

There’s also the chance that your bloodline will become .. too diluted. Too populated, in a sense.
And that will drag down your value as well as everyone else connected to it.

Some people get more popular due to their bloodlines actions out in the wild.
Harder to catch? Harder to breed.
Harder to breed? more valuable.

You have no control over this.
You can make yourself more valuable via learning better ‘tricks’.
Knowing how to do makeup.
knowing how to pose.
Hard labors who can move quickly and have little to no health problems have been known to make ‘strong’ spawn. Some of their children will end up in a pleasure stable. They actually consider this giving their offspring a leg up.

It’s not.
But being fucked fifteen times a day is probably better than having to break rocks out in the desert.

The thought that every possible mutant bloodline is recorded is shocking to me.
Though, because of my pedigree I know that’s because I’m only interacting with the ‘approved’ ones.

Some of the older kids once told me that they like to keep the ‘original’ x-men’s offspring in the same general area. A bragging token, of a sort.
If one of the original mutants were to have gotten away and sneak back- they’ll be weakened at the sight of what has become of their children.

I doubt that, though.
I doubt any of the ones who got away even think of us.
Or what they left us to.

Why would they care?
They’re free.
They can make more offspring.

In that vein of thought, you meet siblings in passing- but never really understand how they came to be. How they are being processed.

There is a staggering lack of women in these stables and even less in actual houses.
Women make babies.
Babies are needed to keep the whole system going.
To control the number of babies… you control the number of women.

Everyone seems okay with this- even the johns who don’t favor men.
You style your makeup in such a way that they don’t care that you’re not female.
You’re just another hole to fuck.
And that is your lot in life.

If the free mutants- the ones in the wild- really wanted to help their descendants- they’d stop making them.
And that’s just the sad truth for how to fix this.
A generation of celibacy
It would end it all.

The humans have planned for that as well, though.
There isn’t a thing they aren’t prepared for.
The system they’ve made is built to last and last.
Until we’re gone.
Then, I’m sure they’ll find someone else to pick on.

The bloodlines that are most common in the circle I am run through are my fathers, Cyclops (as points that his children were supposedly birthed by the phoenix host at the time and the fact that they are high ranking in the hierarchy of the team) Storm- the woman was known to produce several high powered individuals- one of them being my little sister. I saw her twice. I have no clue where she is now. Professor X- we do not know his real name- had a son. He’s a real nut job. Mystique's line is vast and never-ending- it seems. Magento’s line was once something to brag of… but not so much now that his own offspring started having other offspring.

I’m told that his daughter, Polaris, was used to make builders- they were hoping her magnetism would have been passed down. What this means is that they would impregnate her, have her give birth, and then do it again immediately after.
What a shit life.

There is a bigger handful of bloodlines- but I don’t remember them all.
Not surprisingly, they do die off if not maintained properly.

Well- the ones that aren’t mine, anyway.
We have the healing abilities that make others jealous.

Whenever a new one of us pops up- they nab them as quickly as possible.
The fact that we could be ferocious fighters just means that have to do whatever it takes to break us. And.. pleasure stables are a good way to ensure that one is too exhausted both mentally and physically to start an uprising. And because of our ability to keep living after whatever horrible thing they do to us- we are a sure-fire way to keep their income going.

Leave it to the ones who can’t die to be the ones who have to stick around.
What good is a healing factor and extended life if you have to live chained to a fucking bed all day?

Okay- that was exaggerated.

Not chained to a bed ALL day…. they like to chain you to various other surfaces for varying ways of pleasure. It’s all about pleasure.

Why the hell would they want to keep you if you can’t make them happy?

Mutants are ‘kept’ on very strict orders.
You serve those who keep you.
If you are not kept- you are discarded.
There are far worse places to be than a pleasure stable or house.
Or at least… that’s what I’m told.
What do I know?

I’m not even going to be around here for much longer.
I’m 18 tomorrow. Officially aged out of my current home. I remember hearing from somewhere that kids used to look forward to turning 18. Me? I’m terrified.

The johns and femmes aren’t good here- no. They’re violent. They’re demanding. And a lust for children isn’t something I see as normal.
But… the ‘houses’ you can be sold to once you’re actually ‘of age’..?
It’s terrifying what they can do to you.

Sell you for organ harvesting.
Sell you to foreign dignitaries…
Who knows how bad mutants have it outside of the US? What if I’m sold overseas and it’s somehow worse?

Girls between ages 15 and 22 are often sold to breeders. (That’s how they keep a steady supply of mutants, after all.) I’m lucky enough to find myself a male.

They will harvest male DNA from well-known mutants- but we are not allowed to ‘mate’ by our own means. That would be something akin to sexual gratification and… mutants aren’t allowed that- at all. We can’t cum, climax, or any other such enjoyment.
No one likes a fucktoy who’s responsive.
If they think you’re enjoying yourself then you’re not doing your job.

There are other classes of ‘work’ that mutants can be used for.
Manual labor- mainly.
Those are the ones who don’t last long.
After all, a John may get violent with pleasure aide but…. he can’t kill them.
Not without major repercussions.
A fine- I think? The value of which depends on the value of the mutant.

As in someone killing me- a son of the prolific Weapon X- would be very bad. Fines in the millions- perhaps.
But someone killing a child of the phoenix?? That would be easily a trillion dollars- if not more. They’d be run out of town- no doubt.

The descendants of lesser-known bloodlines- ones who’ve been diluted like… Mystique or Magneto? Barely a slap on the wrist.

There was a rumor that a descendant of Mystique- through the son who was on the second variation of the x-men- was traded overseas. The girl was apparently given an insane amount of ‘lashes’ for disobeying and died shortly after.

I would have liked to meet her.

Our shelf lives aren’t long.
Well- everyone else’s I guess.
My siblings and I seem to be the only ones lucky enough to stick around.

But it’s the nature of our lives to be sold and traded.
Better here than in the radioactive tar pits that make up the outlands.
Better here than organ or blood harvesting.
I mean- I’m pretty sure I could survive that ... but if my master plays his cards right, I’m going to fetch him quite a measurable amount of money come tomorrow.

Besides- sex is pretty much all I know at this point.
It’s all that’s been taught to me. I can…. read and write a measly amount. Maybe... at a third-grade level- is what a woman once told me? 'Grades' apparently mean the levels of schooling humans have to attend as children. Mutants are obviously spared that ... honor. 

Although it’s highly frowned upon to be intelligent in any way- I find it makes me feel.. happy to know things.

I may fail at being what I want to be personally... But I’ve never failed to make my johns and femmes happy.
Pleasure is my way of life.
I can’t run from it.

There have been six ‘future prospects’ to look at me today alone. Which was trying. Performing my very best after a long night. When I was told I was being retired for the night- I think I could have broken down in tears.

I had three the day before yesterday as well.
They want to know that I’m coming from a good source.
Anyone can open a pleasure stable- after all.
Getting granted your own small collection of mutants is nothing. I think it’s harder for humans to be licensed to drive than it is for them to own mutants. Selling us to others is as easy as procuring a business license. I was with my master once when he was renewing his. It took no time at all.

The men who came to look at me were not .. pleasing.
And the sex they gave me was nowhere near what I gave them.

Most of them are old… and I hate old men.

I mean- the men and women that frequent the child stalls aren’t stellar by any means but….
At least they were under seventy.

I’m sure a person who isn’t involved with these various processes would think that the idea of being sold is… scary. And it was.
But I’ve been in this particular ‘stable’ since I was born.
Literally.

I was taken from my mother at a hospital.
My blood was too… precious.
Precious enough to be used for whatever means they decide- often meaning that it’s spilled in great quantities.
So precious enough to set me aside… but not to stop them from spilling a much of it as they want.

I’m not the only one walking around with my father’s ‘precious’ blood.

I’ve met sisters and brothers from time to time- some that last- some that don’t.
Guess my old man really got around back in the day.
We all got here somehow, after all. And they have the genetics of the mutant bloodlines down pact. There are no mistakes in labeling.

Technically at the moment, considering the siblings I know to be alive- the ones I’ve seen within the last few years- I’m my father's second oldest.
My sister came first. We’re related in a way that no one has explained.
She has no name. I called her ‘X” because she was the daughter of weapon X- so I thought her being the oldest meant she should get the letter.
I don’t know if she called me anything.

I don’t know who her mother is.
Like- I know she didn’t come from my mother.
But we are also both marked as legacies and under my father’s old codename.
So- we know we’re related.

I like her.
I got to spend a year with her in this stable- it was very precious to me.

I think it was my current master’s gift for me when I turned 13. A sister who loved me almost instantly.
But, like everything else, she was taken away when they deemed time.

Boys and girls have come and gone from these stalls- but I’ve never been one of them.
I’ve been taken outside of the walls of this compound maybe… twice? Twice in my entire 17 years of life.
I don’t know what’s out there.
But… while nervous, I am looking forward to traveling somewhere else when tomorrow comes.
I hope it will be out of the city.
Well ... maybe not.
I don’t know. I just ... feel torn. between both excitement and fear.

Yes- things are going to change. Perhaps for the worst.
But change is still change… and that is exciting no matter how I think of it.
I mean, it’s possible to have both good and bad exciting feelings right? Just because something exciting doesn’t mean it can’t be a good or bad feeling.

At night, you can hear almost everything in the stable.
The ‘stalls’ are quiet rooms that consist of a bed and a sink. No bathroom- just a bed where we stay, and a sink that our customer can clean up in.
They can purchase certain packages- items that come with the room, drugs, and alcohol they ingest, and when needed, condoms to protect themselves.
Some of the ‘aides’ are known to have diseases- that they are then punished for. even though we all know- the masters included- that diseases are very much from the Johns.
Still- infecting a John with a disease- even if it’s something as little as a cold- is a majorly punishable offense.

We all sleep on the floor of one of four large rooms.
Two for the aides older than 14- boy and girl.
And two for the aides younger- again, girl and boy.
We can’t be in the same room as the opposite sex.
After All- we’re used to the ways of pleasing others. If left to our own devices, we could end up making MORE of us. And that? That wouldn't be well for any of us.

That’s all well and fine for me.
I don’t find myself very attracted to females often.
I mean, honestly, I don’t find myself attracted to anyone.
But if I were given the choice, I would probably pick a male partner.

I’ve just had bad luck with older females and prefer to avoid a repeat if at all possible.

Our room is pitch black and I can hear the blonde boy- my current sibling in the home- whining.
I wish he’d shut up.
Honestly. You got a fat man. Deal with it.
I don't know where he fits in our sibling age chart- but I know he’s under me.
He’s wild. He was brought here and is punished severely for talking out of turn. Or.. .talking in general.

He’s laying beside a boy who is often complained about. His skin is too cold- they say. He never seems to care.

The last boy is one who’s on his last legs.
Curled in the corner. Bright red hair -shaggy and unkempt.
he’s stopped caring.

He has a disease- the one that you get from Johns and don’t recover from that makes your body turn against you.
He’s going to die. Soon.

....I wish him an easy exit.
I wish all of us an easy exit.

I roll onto my side- staring at the bright square of the door.  It’s closed and barred- as it is every night. But there is almost a perfect square of light shining around it.
Outside that door is the rest of my life. My future.
In a few measly hours, I will know my fate.
I will accept the knowledge of whatever is coming with the grace that has been beaten into me.
I will make my past owner and my future one proud to have me.

And who knows?… maybe things will get better? 

Redhead coughs wetly in the corner. I may not be old- but I know what death sounds like. 

Listening to him- his labored breathing in a cold, dark, room with no one to care for him... I have to hope that things will get better. 
Because in listening to him- I know, deep down- that while things may not get better…. they could be worse. 
And anything is better than dying on the cum stained floor of a pleasure stable... 
Anything. 

Chapter Text

Early morning light shines through the barred window of the ‘pen' ( our term for the joint bedrooms)- bringing with it a new surge of anxiety. So much that I think I may actually be sick.

...Which when your only ‘latrine’ is a collection of buckets in the corner… and the floor of the pens is hardly ever swept or mopped- the others don’t take things like vomit taking up space in the buckets well.

Surprisingly enough, I wasn’t able to sleep last night.
Turns out I’m a little more worried than I thought I was.
I guess that’s to be expected?

I mean, I knew I was terrified. But my mind has literally run through every single possibility and stressed about them an equally disturbing amount. 

I sit up- rubbing the back of my neck to work the kinks out.
I know they won’t be there for long- my healing abilities kept in mind- but… still. 18 years of sleeping on the floor and I still haven’t quite gotten used to it.

I’ve heard the girls at least have a few pillows.
You can’t imagine how jealous a person can get over otherwise ‘trivial’ items when they’ve been refused them for so long.

I wish I were dressed warmer but I guess in the keepers' eyes- I don't need to be.

I don't go outside often-none of us do. However, the pens are not heated or cooled. So... we know when the seasons change.

Even though every 'window' to the outside world is blurred and opaque- not really letting us see anything other than light- when it is day- and dark when it is night. The compound is mostly self-contained. There are no real outside spaces. 

There are a few Johns who are exhibitionists and while those sessions are... embarrassing as you don't want all of your fellow pen mates to see you getting fucked raw in the middle of a courtyard- you at least get some fresh air. Just another glaring example of how you have to pay for everything you are granted. You don't get something for nothing. 

As we aren't outside or in view of anyone when we are in our pens- the dress code is very... .lacking. 
The outfits we don for work need to be cleaned and pressed nightly. When you are done with your Johns and your schedule is cleared- they're likely to strip you down either completely nude or almost completely nude before sending you to bed. 

To make it simple- we do not own our clothes. We rent them. 

That’s just how it works.

A rule of life that we know and respect. 
Respecting it doesn't make the pens any warmer, though. 

So winter nights are little... unbearable for most. 

Younger boys are more likely to be diapered than not- which can sometimes compound the coldness of our environment. 
Some of them are well past when they should be potty trained.  Mainly because no one has the time to potty train them. So we're talking boys well into 7 or 8 years old. 
It's very demeaning for them- even at that young age. 

I think we can all remember a few very embarrassing and scarring times during our own toilet/person training times. 

Learning how to eat. how to dress. How to wash. 

Then compound that with learning what looks good- and what looks good on you. How to do hair. and makeup- the lessons were never-ending. We didn't learn a single piece of information that could help us on the outside of these walls... but we know how to create 'looks' that are pleasing to the eye out of pretty much anything.

Being able to take care of yourself is a must because in the same sense that the current keepers don't want to bother with potty training the younger boys... they don't want to take care of the older ones- either. 

Getting medical care in this stable is near impossible. 

Everyone is constantly suffering from things that are easily preventible... if we were kept properly.  

Things like clothes to sleep in or blankets- for instance- would go a long way in assuring that there are fewer colds/flu outbreaks. 

But it is what it is. 

Most of us are naked unless we're servicing... and then you're only dressed for as long as it takes them to undress you. 
So.... why bother? 

I, however, being one of the older boys, usually make it to bed with at least a pair of shorts on. Top billing gets very small perks, after all. 
Because of all of this- we’ve seen each other naked more times than we can count.

Boys and girls alike. 
Nudity isn’t something that even registers anymore. You're pretty numb to the idea around age 3- I think.

When people are brought to the stable who haven't been in one before- their reluctance to be nude is... .odd. Offputting- really. It tends to make them look like they think they're better than us. 
Like they have something different and worth privacy. 

Our keepers are sure to instill the idea that we don't have a right to privacy as quickly as humanly possible. 
And... repeat the lesson should someone forget themselves. 

The pen is cold and quiet right now- in the early morning light. 

There is no official 'wakeup' alarm that we are given. Just a time that everyone randomly ends up adopting- having never really been told officially. 

We wake around 5. Move around freely while making ourselves aware enough for the tasks we are needed for- that kind of thing. 

The times the pens are opened is always random- never a tightly scheduled thing- but when they are ready to open them, we are expected to be ready to go shower/shave/brush teeth/hair- etc. 

You don't get a say in your look. 
Most of the older boys have longer hair- my own being about shoulder length. Very annoying, really. But Johns like it because it's soft and fine- something to play with when I'm sucking their cocks. 

I am more anxious for today as usually when you age out, you receive an altogether different look to take to your new home/stable. 

Which is YET ANOTHER thing to be anxious about.

Most times when a high pedigree individual ages out of a child stable- they're sold into an individual household. 
So, not only are you expected to give your owner whatever they should desire... but you have to learn how to keep their environment running just as they want it to.  This means learning what they like/don't like/hate in almost every area of their lives in the span a few days of meeting them. Though, honestly, most of us are expected to be 'smart' enough to pick up on such intricate themes within the first few hours. 

So they expect us to be stupid... yet smart enough to thrive on little information. 
A wonderfully mixed message we've been taught. 

Of course, nothing is guaranteed.

You could easily end up in another stable....especially if you displease your master.

We aren't sure how to carry on  'healthy' relationships so new masters can be very annoyed during our first few days. 
We really don't know how to ... relate to others. We can do what they say- absolutely. But there is usually a lack of 'spark' between us that can make some master's very dissatisfied. 

This isn't really our fault though. We're taken from our parents at birth and have siblings constantly coming and going out of our lives. As far as platonic relationships- we're pretty fucked.

As far as romantic relationships well...We've never been allowed to have any. We're not allowed to be 'sweet' on each other. Or even overly friendly. 

Really all we know is how to service anyone who is over us. 

Also, it's expressly forbidden to form any sort of emotional attachment to anyone higher than you. And human/mutant fraternization.... is a death sentence for both the human and the mutant.  No exceptions. 

Even if you become a favorite of theirs- you have to remain emotionally distant. 

It's for your safety, really. 

There is no companionship in this walk of life. 
And again... that's just how it is. 

It's not much of a slight. If you're never allowed to form these relationships to begin with- you don't miss it all too much. 
I mean, it's impossible to miss something you've never had. 

The coolness of the concrete under my bare calves brings me back to the present- to my pen. This is the last morning I will ever spend here.

That's both exciting.. and frightening. 

I glance around the room- watching the others as they twitch in their sleep. 

They've got a few years to remain here. It sucks that I'll never know where they end up. 
And honestly.. they probably won't be told where I am either. 

The three boys are quiet.

In the corner, I can see that the sick boy has taken his final position. Curled in a tight ball with his knees to his chest. 

During the cold harsh black of night- He's passed on. 
A nameless boy dying a horrible death less than five feet from where I slept. A person newer to this walk of life may be horrified by that... but again- it's part of the life I have been given. 

I'm not heartless- I do sincerely feel sad that he had to spend his last hours like that... but I am happy that he is no longer suffering. I don't think anyone needs to suffer in the way those who contract that illness does. 

I have been through much pain... and I still wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. 

I move over to him, standing over him quietly- as if he were also still asleep and I was afraid to wake him. 

There's a trail of dried blood leading from his lips to the floor- his eyes, beautiful and green- are wide open. Cold and unseeing. 

I bend over and carefully shut them with my fingers. 

His disease is spread by blood and sex- I won't get it just from touching him...even though that seems to be what most everyone else thinks. 

This boy was allowed to stay here because our master couldn't bother to find him another home. 
People who contract that particular illness are worthless. 
Their sell value drops to zero as soon as they are diagnosed. 

This means that... no one would have taken him anyway. 

We don't know what the disease is called... but it is fatal. Always. 

Poor guy. 

From what I know about him- he wasn't even from here. He came across the ocean. 

One of the ones that are traded in exchange for something from the human officials. He spoke strangely for the short while it took for them to teach him not to speak. 

He once told me that his family across the sea loved him so much and that this was all a ruse. Then he insisted that they were coming for him. Any day. He'd stand at the window and sob. Any day. 

That was likely a lie they told him when he was sold into our stable to keep him calm. But.. maybe they did plan to take him back. 
Who knows? 

I mean... it's too late now. 

From contraction of the disease to death always varies from person to person... but death always seems to come sooner around the winter months. They get sick from the general conditions- like the rest of us- and just... aren't able to get better. 

I believe he was marked with the disease around the beginning of summer- it was still hot in the compound. 

My birthday is at the beginning of Winter. I'm not sure which month... honestly because I was never really taught the months. 
BUT I know it is around when the snow starts to fall and all the leaves on the trees are dead.  

If his family wanted to have saved him... they'd have gotten him before he was infected. 

The man who infected him has passed as well, a few weeks ago. 

It makes me a little happy to know that the boy was at least aware that the man who has killed him also died. 

I don't believe in an afterlife, the world I live in isn't much for inspiring belief in anything really... but... I wish that he finds his family... wherever he is. 

Maybe there is something after death... and maybe it is a lot kinder than what he was given here. 

I move to the window- putting my hand against the cool plastic. 
Not glass- glass can be broken. 

They're not worried about physical escape as much... as a mental escape? 
The kind of escape you can find by hanging yourself ... or swallowing poison. 

There's a bright sun rising in the sky. It's almost beautiful- from what I can see of it, that is. 

I haven't been outside in.. a while. A good while.  I guess today I may get to feel the sun on my skin. If only for a few seconds. 

It will be strange to see my home from the outside... knowing that I will never come back. 

We aren't allowed to return, after all. When I walk out of that door- I will never see this place, or anyone in it, again. 

It's a stinging realization. 

This is all I've known for my entire life. 

Today, I trade it for something entirely different.  Something completely unknown to me. 

All I know to expect is that I will be welcomed to a new home, and then promptly expect to show them how I can service them while they take out my ... payment I owe for being part of their home. 
It's is a cruel and painful process. 

But... it is what it is.

Slowly the other two boys begin moving around a little. 

While we're all expected to be up at the same time, no one wants to be the first up and moving around. Usually first to rise is first to work. And taking a client at the lovely time of 6:30 am is… not wanted.

It's kind of an unspoken rule. The first set of feet to hit the floor takes the first client- UNLESS the client is a regular with a preferred aide. 

Those instances often lead to a few foul feelings, however. 
In a system such as this, those are hard to completely avoid. 
What we do is rather trying and brutal- it can lead to tensions running high between us. 

I don’t mind taking the hit this morning, though, seeing as there’s usually a little bit of a fuss made when an aide ages out of their stable. And I don’t think they take clients on their last day.

I don't know what to expect but... I'm wearily optimistic about my morning activities.

I would say that today is a ‘celebration’... but… it’s not that. Well, the humans seem to think it is- but for us, It is very nerve-wracking. I don’t know what a celebration would feel like, to begin with, though. So what do I know?

The point of whether or not I’m taking clients today is most likely a moot one. This is a children’s stable. The clients are older men and women who only indulge in children. 18 makes me not a child- it's the magic number that lets me leave 17 years worth of awful perverts behind me. 
Yes- there will be new ones, now. But... maybe adult attracted perverts will be easier to stomach?

The age may feel magical- but honestly, there's not much that's changed about me in the last few years.  

The strict diet and lack of general sunlight and forces that are known to ‘toughen’ the skin (by my master’s way of thinking) have kept me rather young looking. 

I mean, I know 18 isn’t old, to begin with, but… I could probably pass for at least 16 if I tried.

We’re not allowed to do things that would make us ‘ugly’. So we don’t have a lot of experience with things outside of the stable.

I think that’s part of why I’m so nervous. 
I realized when I was trying to sleep last night that what I know… purely consists of what I’ve been told/taught in this very stable.

I’ve never been out in the world long enough to know how things work.

When I get to my new home ... will it be another stable or an actual household?
What will my job be?
What will be expected of me and how quickly do they expect me to learn it?

To be honest, I don’t know where I’m being sent- or even if anyone’s purchased me yet.

The last boy who aged out knew where he was going the night before.
I wasn’t told anything ... which I’m not sure is a good OR bad thing.

Maybe each time is just different.
Maybe my master genuinely just forgot to tell me?

Or maybe the buyer wants to be kept secret before being revealed in some major way.
I know it’s weird sounding- but some of these humans have a real flair for the dramatics.

I wish I knew more.
I wish I wasn’t so fucking scared.
I don't like feeling weak- and often in my life there is nothing that can be done about that. 
But... this morning I would rather be seen as strong and dignified. AKA- not a scared little boy. 

I'm an adult now. 
I need to act like it. 

I close my eyes and center myself as much as possible. 
Focus on the concrete under my bare feet. The sounds of the wind and the chirping of the birds in the trees. 

The sounds that filter in through the plastic window into the room are… calming. In a sense. They sound like... home. The sounds in the room- less so.

The act of someone aging out of their ‘home’ is always sad for the others.
I’m not sure about the other boy but… my brother will probably miss me at least a little.

I usually do miss the siblings that leave- knowing I won’t ever see them again.
I don't know if they view me the same way… but I hope they do.

I’m told that certain stables go out of their way to keep siblings together- collecting them like sets of fine china. I would kill to see either my older sister or my younger.

Being completely honest with myself- Both of them are probably slated for becoming breeders. If not already being actively bred.

I hate it for them. I hate the idea that any of my siblings should have to go through any of this. But..it’s what we have.
And it’s what we have to do to survive.

My brother grumbles something quietly as he is also woken up- probably by the sounds of the birds outside who are his morning enemies.

Where he was living before- in the wild- the birds were very… hostile?
So they’re not his favorite of creatures.

In the aftermath of the chemical warfare the humans used, the animals seemed to mutate in special ways of their own. Which is to say that most of them are now suited to kill any human or mutant they deem worthy as their next meal. What's a post-war society without carnivorous beasts to torment the remaining population?

“Fucking birds.” He groans- turning onto his side facing me. “Chirping fuckers. All fucking morning. Sick of this shit.” He yawns loudly. "What time is it?" 

He still doesn’t grasp the ‘no talking’ rule.

I hold up five fingers and then three quickly followed by a circle. 

He watches my hands curiously before his blue eyes lock onto mine. “So… today’s your day- hmm?” He nods towards the sleeping boy in the corner. “He told me that this is supposed to be a big deal... you ready for ... whatever the fuck you're supposed to be ready for?”

I nod- though still unsure myself, I will not let anyone else know this. 

“Where I come from they would have thrown you a party.” He says with a smile- rising to a sitting position. “Ever had a birthday party?”

I shake my head.

“Right,” he says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You’ve been here since birth.” He shakes his head- as if to clear it. “You would have cake and music… presents. Doubt you’ve ever been given anything like a present. There would be games you would play with your friends- stuff like that. Ya know- just happy stuff. Fun stuff.”

I stare at him sadly.
I want to speak to him.
But….
I can’t risk it.

"Ever had cake?" 

I shake my head. 

The list of what I've eaten over the last 18 years can probably be summed up with only 10 entries. 

"No cake??? Fuck." He hisses. "Man... I dated this girl a while back- she could bake like...insanely good." He says wistfully. "Like chocolate cakes soooo good. And brownies- like get the fuck out of here- they were so good." He actually sighs. "God I miss that girl." He looks at me with a smirk. "Had a great ass too. So ya know. Full package." He gives me a thumbs up. 

While I know he shouldn't be talking... I have to admit... I like the way he talks. 
He's really funny when the mood strikes him. 
And as long as you're not being an ass to him- he'll be your very best friend. 

I think part of his charm is that he's 'worldly' having ya know... not been born and bred as most of the rest of us were. 

I do spare him a laugh- very quietly. 

“So... it's your last day here.... you know you're my brother... you should like... say bye to me- right?" He says slyly.

He's been trying to get me to talk since we met.

I shrug. 

"Come onnnnn." He groans- teasingly though. "You're still not going to say anything to me?” 

I sign for ‘not today’- which makes him shake his head.

“Sorry- I don’t sign.” he says, almost wistfully. “haven’t picked it up yet.”

Figures.
He hasn’t been here too terribly long, after all.
And he wasn’t raised in the stables like I was.

"You could just tell what you were signing though..." He says- lilt to his voice. 

I shrug again. 

“I haven’t heard you speak… ever.” He says. “Do you even speak English? I mean... you could be like... only used to speaking Chinese?" 

Chinese? Why would I speak Chinese? 

"Speak English?" He asks. "Chinese? Spanish?" 

I feel myself stiffen.  I shoot some very angry signage at him. Letting him that yes- I speak English. Very well, in fact. 

It takes a full minute of me signing at him with him shaking his head and laughing. 

"Chill out bro- really. I don't understand anything of what you just said. Chill out. I'm sorry. I'll take all of that as an affirmative. All you had to do was nod." 

There's a harsh laugh from the boy across the room- cold one. 

"The humans think we don't understand them." He says. "It's offensive." 

"Ah. Gotcha." He gives me another thumbs up. "You're fluent. Good. Then you understand everything I've ever said to you?" 

 I find myself smirking and give him a 'sorta' hand signal- holding my hand up and rocking it from side to side.

"Ha. Finding your sense of humor huh? Good." He watches me for a second. "I think... I've got something to tell you that you may... find interesting."

I sign for 'doubt it'- still smiling. 

He smiles. "It's about-"  He’s cut off by someone’s loud cough outside the door.

A guard perhaps?

"I'm going to assume that any talking I hear is in fact sleep talking and will cease when the door opens, yes?" Our master's voice is clear and precise. Loud and real- right outside the door. 

“Oh, this fucker.” He growls. “Coming to whisk you away to your next torture chamber.”

What a lovely sentiment.

“Happy fucking birthday- right?” he says- loudly at that.

I scent the air- it smells like….. pears.

"Come in you fat bastard!" My brother calls- stupidly. "We're all ready for your wonderful presence." 

The door is opened slowly as it’s quite heavy.
The metal hinges creak loudly- it’s quite a distinct sound. I think I’ll be remembering it for the rest of my life.

The man who stands in the doorway is the same man I’ve served my entire life.
The years have been kind to him.

Then again, he’s one of the ones known to consume certain energies and substances to keep him alive and healthy- even though he’s purely human. What’s the point of ruling over all of these mutants if you can’t promise your citizens a long life? Why have access to so many healers if you’re not going to tap that resource?

"Again, I'm assuming you're sleep talking." He growls to the boy- who for his credit, does go quiet. 

The man's hair is curly and brown, hanging free around his shoulders. Usually, he has it tied back. 
He’s a rather short man- even compared to me. And I am by no means the tallest around here, even if I’m the oldest.
His attire is that of a well to do businessman- which he is. A three-piece suit complete with pearl cufflinks. The cologne he wears- the one that gives him that peach scent? Is strong. His face is stern- as it is when he usually doles out punishments. I can’t think of anything we’ve done wrong, however. Besides my brother’s refusal to shut up.

He stands in the doorway, scanning the room before his eyes land on me. He smiles then, teeth a shade of white that doesn’t look natural, and holds his hand out to me. “Come.” He says- simple, to the point.

I swallow down my fear and move towards him- my hand staying by my side- not taking his just yet. 

“Come, come.” he motions me forward with his free hand while still extending the other to me. "Let me see you." 

I carefully step forward- taking his hand.
He smiles again, cupping my chin and turning my face to the side.

“Wonderful bone structure.” He says, turning it to the other side. “Truly remarkable. One of my better finds if I do say so myself.”

He then tilts my chin towards the ceiling, humming to himself.

“Such a pretty boy.” He says. “Such a shame to have to sell you.” He lets go of my face. “If I didn’t have such a grand buyer lined up for you… I’d keep you all to myself.” he smiles again- like this is a compliment. "But, we do what we must, don't we?" He says, voice pleasant. Which I know is him being falsely sincere. He thrives the most when his targets have let their guards down. He motions for me to turn around- facing away from him. When I do- he gently runs his hand up my spine. "Probably won't get much taller." He says happily. "Which is good. You'd not make a very pretty basketball player- now would you?" 

I... don't know what that is. 

His hand moves up to my shoulders- fingers gently pressing into the very boney parts. 
"Perhaps we did keep you a little underfed." He murmurs. "But that is fixable, isn't it?" 

I stay completely still. 

He spins me back around- looking me in the eyes. "Now, you're going to behave very well today, aren't you?" He says- very patronizingly. "Because today is very important. You need to represent me and all of the wonderful things I've done for you." He says smiling. "You're one of the ones I've raised from birth, after all. You literally," He cups my face again, brushing some of the hair that's fallen into it away with his free hand. "Owe me your very life." He says, leaning closer to me and speaking quietly. "You've made me so much money." He says. "Well over 5 million. Do you believe that? How lucky you are that your new master wanted you oh so badly." He taps my nose with his finger. "He didn't even take you for a test drive." His smile is unnerving. "Think of this as my gift to you, hmm? Someone who liked your look so much- he bought you just by looking at a picture. You're one of the only ones who can say that you know. You've always been such a lucky boy." 

I believe we have a very different definition of what 'lucky' means. 

"Well, no need to waste any more time in this... childish setting, is there, my dear? We've much to do. We want you to look your best, after all. It's what your new master deserves after all of his... monetary contribution to your beloved home." 

He must see my confusion. 

"Paid for your full-price plus supplies." He says. "The expensive makeup we've bought for you... the clothing. Some of which we may just send with you. We owe it to him to make sure you look... grown, don't we? He doesn't want a child, after all. And you are very grown now, aren't you?" 

I find myself shaking- unwillingly. 
I am more nervous than I'd like to admit. 

And that... is saying something. 

"Now, now, chin up." He says. "I've lined a very nice future up for you. You owe me your gratitude- don't you think?" 

I nod after realizing that he expects a response for this. 

"There's my boy." He smiles. "You go to the dressing rooms now, alright? ” he says. “I have an outfit laid out for you already. Hair and makeup too.” He smiles. “I have a very exciting look for you to try. I think you’ll really like it. I've spent several hours putting it together. Just for you.”

Doubtful. 
The keepers design our looks. 

I nod, confirming that I understand his instructions. "There's a good boy." 

He turns away from me, finally addressing the boys left in the room. 

“The Irish bastard is dead,” he says, matter of factly. “I really should be more insistent on condoms, hmm?” He asks the others, playfully- obviously not expecting a response.

“Or ya know… not sell underage boys to grown-ass men?” My brother- stupid as hell- says.

Talking where he could be heard was idiotic. Talking like that to our master? Deathwish.

The man's entire demeanor begins to change. "Now, my little rabid creature," He says, cruelly and sweetly at the same time, "this is your big brother's big day.. hmm? the last time you'll ever see him. Surely you don't want to do anything stupid and ruin it now... do you?" 

"I'd rather celebrate his birthday... and not the whole 'sending him off to be raped by some rich asshole daily'." The boy smiles. "If it's all the same to you." 

"Well you don't really have a choice in the matter- do you?" He asks coldly. 

"Actualllllllyyy......." The blonde boy says, almost as if he's in thought. "You aren't telepathic- ya know, being human, so you can't control what I do or don't think. Or what I do or don't believe. See that only works when you torture people from the time they're little. You got nothing on me, asshole. I am literally a jailbreak waiting to happen." 

Our master crosses his arms looking at the younger boy in disgust. “You just don’t learn do you?” he growls. “I am going above and beyond to teach you the ways of the world- catching you up on years of untraining. Taking you through the process of unlearning all of your nasty habits. And you just… don’t learn. You're still the same little thoughtless beast you were the day they brought you into the home I so graciously allow you to dwell in.”

“Ya know I think they said I had a learning disability a while back. Little slow on the uptake. "He says. "Could you... maybe go over the material again?" 

I actually want to laugh- loudly. But I refrain. My brother is going to be punished for this- most definitely. And... I don't want to join him. 

“Boy if it weren’t for your pedigree- you would be worthless. Do you comprehend that? When they caught you they could have killed you on the spot. Painfully. But they didn't. They brought you to me, hoping I would… enlighten you to how your world works. The prosecutor has high hopes that I’ll turn you into something worthwhile.” he watches the boy coldly. “But even I have my limits.”

“So sorry to not willingly participate in your little ‘slave’ fetish,” he says. "Ya know- not that the constant rape and torture isn't... scary or anything... but... your little house of horrors doesn't really have that much draw to me." 

“Fetish- you say? How funny it is that you would say that. Come to think of it, if we're going to discuss fetishes- your brother here has been fielding all of our more… unique clients for the last four months or so. He does such a good job- being the good little healer he is. I was concerned as to who was going to take his place when he leaves us... but... perhaps, with you being his brother, we can test just how well your healing factor works, hmm? Perhaps taking care of our more niche guests is something we can attribute to your entire bloodline? Starting with your brother of course... then you... then any brother or sister that comes after you. ” He smiles cruelly. "I just so love it when I'm given a.. permanent answer to a temporary problem. It just works out so, so well." 

“You don’t scare me.” the boy says.

Fuck it all. He's just doomed countless siblings to a fate they won't even understand. 

I try to shoot him a clear 'stop talking' look. 

"Then you're stupider than I gave you credit for. And that, that,  my little beastie- is saying something."

"You can't hurt me, bro. I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of your clients. Piss? Shit? Blood? Puke? bondage- bring that shit on. I can take it."

"How DARE you speak to me like that??? Master’s glare grows even colder. “You are a worthless, nameless, penniless orphan.” He says. “A product of a vile act that made you. You were allowed to run free like an animal and you were caught as such. You will conform to our society or you will die fighting it- painfully. Do you understand???”

The boy grits his teeth. “I am not worthless,” he says. “And I am not nameless. I have a name. I have a home. I have the right to be free from assholes like you.” He spits at the man’s feet.

“Ingrate.” Master hisses. "You will be trained here. Then you will be sold. And I promise you, child, I will not put nearly as much care into your placement as I did your brother's here." He motions to me. "He is the best of your line. You are the worst. I will call you what you are- an ingrate and a beast. You are an animal who was saved from execution. An unintelligent creature who cannot see far enough ahead to appreciate the EFFORT I am making to make you worth something!" 

“My name is Jimmy.” The boy says, lowly. “Not ingrate. Not beast. Not animal- Jimmy. Jimmy Hudson. And I do not owe you or your ‘society’ a damn thing. Humans are more animalistic than mutants will ever be! You are on borrowed time- the whole fucking city of you.”

Master stares him down again. “Well then, “Jimmy”. We’ll just have to see who is right in the end, hmm? To further your understanding of your predicament- I believe you’ll spend today in the specialty cells. I believe you will find that those particular clients know just how to tame… a beast such as yourself.” He turns back to me. “Go on, my dear. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” He moves to the side, letting me out into the large hallway. "Let's not waste any more time on this useless creature." 

I didn’t know my brother had a name.
I should have known- I guess. He was in the ‘wild’.
But… he had a first name and last name.

Was that given to him by his mother….
...or did he know our father?

Why does the thought of him knowing our father make my heart beat faster?
If our father were still alive and he gave Jimmy both of his names ... wouldn't he want to come after his son?
If he doesn’t… he’s either dead or I’m right in assuming that the mutants in the wild don’t care about what happens to the ones trapped in our society.

I feel bad that Jimmy is going to spend the day in the specialty cells. Those truly are hell on earth. Playing into your client’s kinks- no matter how fucked they are- when you don’t share those kinks is hard. it can be hard to get into the mindset you need to be in.

I hope Jimmy is okay afterward.

He really did lighten my mood this morning... if only for a little bit. 

The hallway I walk down is large and brightly lit.
The floor goes from pure cement on the wing that holds the pens to marble as I reach the corridors that lead to our dressing rooms.

The dressing rooms are large rooms that hold endless racks of clothing, makeup from all over, hair products, skin products, and books of ‘looks’. My reading skills are very shotty but… I like to look at the pictures.

The rooms have no doors and are supervised by ‘keepers’. Women who are not mutants- but not humans either.

They’re metas.

Humans who gained powers through magic or science.

They WORK here. Meaning they are paid and that they can leave. I am jealous of them.
Of the lives they get to lead freely.

Though, their positions of being super-powered beings make them slightly nicer than most humans.

Two of them are standing at the salon chair in front of the large rows of floor-length mirrors.

One of the women has pink skin- purple hair. Her eyes are large and well lined.

Her companion is a pale woman with half of her head shaved.

I like the look.

They are both dressed in shorts and black crop tops- the standard uniform worn by our dressers- they are cut perfectly for each woman's body shape. 

There are several different classes of keepers- each with varying rules and states of dress. 

The women who preside over the dressing rooms are usually the nicest. 
..so long as you hold still and do exactly as you're told. 

They both turn to me, donning smiles.

“Hey, there kiddo.” The pink woman says. “Come in, come in. We have a lot of work to do.” her voice is deep- husky. 

She likes to sing when she cleans out the dressing room. 
I don't get to hear a lot of music- if any. 
So her voice is something I really like to listen to... even if I'm not familiar with the song. 

I sit in the chair- silently.

It's a large black faux leather chair with a worn-out back and cold metal poking out from where bits of the leather has been worn through. 
we.. don't have many nice things here. 

The pink woman puts her foot- clad in a very odd-looking high topped sneaker- on the metal bar at the base of the chair- pumping it until the chair has raised an ich or two- making it easier to work on me. 

This is my last time in this room. 
How... odd. 
I've been in these chairs a million times over. But... I don't know. 
Maybe I'll miss them? 

I doubt that adults have their makeup and hair done for them. 

“18, hmm?” The pale woman says. “Remember when I turned 18.” She smiles. “Got my working permit and ditched my parents. What a relief.” She looks at me in the mirror- only to be nudged by her friend and given a pointed look. She grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m sure you’re already really nervous. I didn't mean to make you feel like shit too.”

I sign a simple “it’s fine”.

The pink woman claps her hands together. “So, Mater Kline told us the exact look he wants.” She pulls my long hair back, pulling it up on top of my head. “And… it’s going to involve getting rid of some of this hair.” She says, smiling. “Long hair like this is really more of a kid style. And… you’re not a kid anymore.” She lets go of my hair and pulls one of the look books off of the counter. “BUT- Master Kline told US to decide between the hairstyles he chose and since this is your big day… and the last time we’re going to work on you, we thought we’d let you have a little bit of a choice between the three different options.”

I find myself slightly happy at that.
I don’t want to radically change my looks but… at least they’re letting me have a say in it.

She opens the book- going to a dog eared page and then sitting it on my lap.

The words beside the pictures are meaningless. 
Above my level of literacy. 

God if there was one thing I would change it would be my ability to read. 
I feel like I would be so much happier if I were able to do so. 

“So, we have this one,” it’s a very short style- I don’t like it. I shake my head quickly. 
I know that some hair has to go... but... please not that much. 

“Yea, I didn’t like the one either.” The pale woman says. “Look at this one-” She leans over her friend and turns the page, This look is… harder to describe. “See, you’d get to keep some length- mostly on top- see?  She says, pulling my hair back again. “But the sides would be shaved. Kinda like mine, see? But completely. So... no fuzz.” She turns her head from side to side. “It’s super easy to take care of… and if you let the longer part grow- it can be a very striking look. Especially on you with how well pronounced your cheekbones are. See? It’d make you look exotic. That's a good look to have. Sets you apart." 

“Right.” The pink woman says. “Or- you can have this one.” She turns the page to the dullest looking cut imaginable. I quickly shake my head.
It looks like something the guards have- shaved close to the scalp. Buzzcut. I think is the word? 

The women smile.

"Yea, don't blame you kiddo." The pale woman says. "So we can firmly label that one out then?" 

I nod. 

“Sooooo.” The pink woman says in prompting fashion “The one in the middle?”

I nod- somewhat hesitant.

“Okay honey. That's the best choice.” The pink woman says. “Let’s get down to it. Hold still- okay. Same procedure as always. Sit back and let us do what we have to do and we'll get you out of here.”

So we start the same routine I've known for the last 18 years. 

The scent of the hair jail- the snip of the scissors- I just hold my head in whatever position they order and wait for it to be over. 

The pink woman takes the time to wash my hair- shampoo, conditioner- dry. Usual procedure.

The two of them talk between themselves- never really involving me- knowing I couldn't respond even if they did.

They’re sure to tell me how good I look as the haircut progresses.

I have to admit I was a little… worried when she brought the razor out. But, in a sense, this was my choice. And it's the only choice I’ve been able to actively make concerning my appearance since about age 11. I watch myself in the mirror- trying to gauge just what the end product will be.

The people around me have never been shy to applaud my looks.
Even if I had nothing to do with them.

I don’t think other people realize how meaningless compliments are after a time.
I’d rather be told I was smart… or funny- or something.
Something I actually have control over.

The razor stops buzzing and is put down on the counter. There’s… a good bit of hair on the floor.

“See?” The pale woman puts her face by mine. “Looks good, right?”

I stare at myself in the mirror- a little shocked. 

I mean… yes, it does look good but../ it’s a striking difference. The hair left is long and fine- going down the center and hanging long at the back.

I run my fingers over the shaved side of my head. 

"Yea- you'll get used to it." The pale woman says. "I promise you. Plus, starting in a new home, new rules, new places- it will be super easy to take care of and you don't have to wash it all too often. See? It's going to help." 

“Now,” the pink woman goes to the makeup palettes. “It’s time to get a little bit… creative. These have been purchased just for you- just for this look." 

The palate is one that hasn’t been used on me… ever. And I’m honestly not sure I like the colors. They're very light. 

Lighter colors usually only look good on the girls. 

The woman catches my worried glance. “Trust me.” She says, holding her hand up- like she’s swearing to some higher power. “Okay? Trust me. You’re gonna look amazing, today is going to go off without a hitch, and by tonight you’ll be in a new home, safe and sound. Okay? I do all that age out makeup. I’ve yet to fail one.” I’m still nervous and she notes it. She holds out her pinky. “I pinky promise you,” she says, smiling. “You’re gonna look great.”

I am weary, but I take her pinky and shake it.

It's an unspoken binding promise in our house. 
I mean can you blame us? 
Underneath it all... we are kids. 

I find it comforting that she used this gesture to calm me down. 

She smiles and turns to her companion. “Get the brushes.” She says. “And the contour kit.” She turns my chair around- making me face away from the mirrors. 

Her companion compiles without a word.

The look she starts to make is… pale. At least- I think it is. the powder is white. Plain white. My skin is pale but... not that pale.

"Too bright." Her companion says at one point. 

She turns away from me. "lemme see the look book again, please?" 

A different book than what was shown to me is passed to her. 

"Ah fuck it. See? I said P 12. They got P. 11.5" 

"Why we don't let men do the fucking shopping right?" The pale woman says. 

"Might as well bring us Mary Kay from the '80s." She laughs. 

They both consult the book and the palate. 

"Welp..." The pale woman says, shrugging. 

"Time to go offroading." Her companion stays within the same palate but goes to a different color. 

This is... light still but not plain white. 
I still can't see it. 

The Pale woman nods- standing behind her friend. "Good. Great switch up." She motions around various parts of my face. "Minimal contouring really works on him- his face is just- god. Made for it." She says happily. 

The woman over me switches brushes- small and soft. The eye makeup variety. 

She does a little work- light application but dark colors. 

She tops it off with some minimal liquid liner bullshit that I can't stand the smell of. 

I know his brand enough o hate it. 

But- what can I do? 
I'm not in control of any of this. 

She finishes the liner and stops. 
"There." 

The two women smile between each other before turning me around back towards the mirror. 

It's... Such a… weird look?

I look… different.
Like- different from everyone else.

The woman smiles. “Culturally inspired makeup looks.” She says. "easy inspiration from centuries of art." 

Culturally?
What culture inspired this?

I turn my face to the side- lightened, exaggerated work in some places.

She must see my confusion.

“Guess they don’t really tell you much about your genetic makeup- hmm?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“Don’t worry about it.” She soothes.

Her companion returns from the clothing racks- which I hadn’t noticed her go until she’s halfway back to us.

“So, the outfit is actually super simple.” She says, holding up a pair of leather pants- having a lot of clear mesh worked into them- creating that distressed holey look but also an underwork of fishnets- so... different. 

The shirt they pass me is a low cut tank top that looks more like something one of the girls would wear.
It's cut to rise a little around my hips. 

This is not ‘performance’ wear.

I raise an eyebrow- touching the shirt.

“Your… new caretakers,” She says, awkwardly avoiding the term ‘masters’ “Have asked that we keep it super casual. Which of course you know, is not possible.” She smiles. “So, we’re going to tone down the outfit we had planned. So we’re going to use the leather and the bright gray of the tank as a ‘cool down’ look to compliment your more elaborate makeup. Easy peasy, nothing to it.”

"Here." The pale woman hands me some undergarments. 
"Leather doesn't breathe well. "She says simply. 

I stand to my feet and get dressed.
As it always manages- the clothes fit perfectly.
We’re all kept around the same size- so they only really have to focus on a few select sizes and styles- easily recycling all of the clothes between aides.
We don’t have clothes of our own.
It’s all very clearly stated as us being allowed to borrow them.

The last piece to the outfit is shoes. Black tennis shoes, to be precise. 
Which… I honestly do not normally wear. At all.
We never leave our compound. We don’t need them.
Also, when taking client after client- you don’t have time to redress. Having to put shoes on and off again would just take up more time you could be using to work.

They give me the once over- before nodding to each other.

“You’re good to go.” The pink one says gently.

“Knock em’ dead champ.” 

I am not sure where exactly they expect me to go… they didn’t say and no one seems to be here to collect me.
I don't want to awkwardly hang around after they’ve dismissed me… though... So I walk into the hall- trying to decide what to do.
Eventually, I find myself making my way back to the pen.

In the pen hallway, there is a communal bathroom/shower area.
I find my brother sitting on the sink- stalling, most likely.

“Well look at you.” He says.

I want to sign something sarcastic but it would be lost on him.

“Look pretty.” He says. “Probably like your mom.”

That gets a confused glance from me.

“Ya know… cause dad’s white. So… she would have had to be Asian. And ya know…. you really don’t look too much like the old man.” He motions to my face. “I mean- other than the eyes." 

I stare at him, dumbfounded.
He’s… seen our father?
He knows him?
Well enough to know that we don’t look anything alike?

“It’s a big world outside these walls.” He says. “Bullshit that none of you will ever see it.”

I watch him- feeling unknown emotions.

I sign 'do you know'? 

He looks at me and returns a surprisingly complex 'more than you do'. 

Guess.. he knows sign after all. 

“You know they keep a record of every single one of you?” He asks, quietly, moving over and turning the sink on- drowning out his voice. 
We can hear each other due to our enhanced hearing- but the sinks are loud and the water pressure is strong- unless someone were to move right behind us- they wouldn't hear us. "All of you. They call you 'lostlings'. Funny- huh? Sounds like some fantasy bullshit."  

That… stops me.

He nods. “Yup. Don’t know your names since you aren’t given them so they make up little nicknames depending on who your parents were. They don't know what you look like and wouldn't be able to point you out in a crowd....but they know when you’re taken. They know when you’re born. They know how old you are. They just don’t know… where you are.  They miss you. They mourn you." 

My mind is frozen- my heart hammering in my throat. 
I sign the 'do you know?" I again. 

Jimmy looks at me and says "Log-" He stops. "Dad….” he corrects himself. “Let’s just say…. he’s not as careless as they make you think he is. He's with the others... and..” He clears his throat. "You won't be lost forever." 

He’s alive.
He… he knows about me.
He-

I feel myself starting to get dangerously close to tears.

"Good luck kiddo." Jimmy puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve had it tough but you got this. Okay? You can keep going. And... when you're ready to be found... you'll know what to do.” he says.  A message like this... with this tone... could get him killed. He had to wait to tell me until the absolute last minute. And I understand that. 

I do not, however, understand what he means by 'when I'm ready to be found"

He offers me a smile. “Don’t cry- okay? You’ll fuck up your makeup… looks like it took a while.” He pats my shoulder, walking past me back into the hallway.

I stand there- motionless.
This is the first time anyone has confirmed anything at all about my father.
About my mother.

And he said ‘they’.
They as in the mutants in the wild?
They know that we’re taken?
They know… they know that we’re… alive?

I'm torn between this insane happiness and a sense of anger- betrayal.
I like that they know we exist. But… where are they?
IF they know their offspring are being put through hell… why don’t they stop it?

I need more information.
I decide that I have no choice but to track Jimmy down and demand more- verbally.

This can't go unanswered. 
I've been waiting... all my life.. to know who I am. 
To know... why I'm here. 
Why they didn't save me. 

I need to know this. 

I turn around and almost run smack into some guards- my hope of finding my brother and gaining more answers completely dwarfed by my intense fear of these men. 

“Well don’t you look nice?” The larger one- a fat man who’s balding in a very ungraceful manner- says. He puts his hands on my shoulder- holding me still to inspect me closer.

I know this man… well.
Really well.

He never pays.
He never asks.
He never admits to it.
If we were permitted to speak, this man would have reported for stolen services time and time again.
As we are not, he gets away with pretty much anything he wants.

I find myself rigid and on guard instantly.
Any other day he could do whatever he pleased with me.
But today? He’d have to be fucking careful not to mess anything up. A single smudged line on my face and they will know that someone has used me before my newest master could. that will decrease my value. Might even make the whole deal fall through.

“Like a pretty little doll.” He says with a smile. “Don’t he look pretty?” He asks his companion- a short rat-like man- he’s fatter than the larger man. Greasy black hair pulled into a ponytail and a horrible slender collection of stringy facial hair hanging from his chin.

These are the men who work for the men in power.
The ones who have proven to be less than desirable in this society.

And yet somehow- I am to believe they are better than me.
More of a… person- than I am.

I don’t call bullshit often- but… I think I have to call it here.

“Yea. Pretty as a picture.” He grins- lewdly at that. “Can you imagine how much fun someone’s going to have just… fucking destroying him tonight?” He says.

The larger man smiles- his teeth are rotten. “Just love the idea…” he says, getting close to my ear. “Of breaking pretty things.” He whispers before straightening up.

They share a chuckle at my obvious discomfort.

“Welp, did you say goodbye to your little friends?” The larger man asks. He then smirks. “Of course you didn’t. Because good little boys don’t speak- do they?”

I find myself nodding ever so slightly.

“Believe it or not, your new owner came early.” He says. “We had a whole… goodbye planned but ... guess you’re spared. What a birthday gift to receive.” He smirks, taking my shoulder again and forcing me out of the room- almost pushing me hard enough to make me fall. "Come on slut. Let's go." 

They’re here already?
I mean… I knew I would leave today.
But… this is so sudden.
Too sudden.

I need to find Jimmy. 
I need answers- I can't leave. 
I turn to look behind me but the larger of the two guards pushes me forward again- surprising me by how hard the impact is. 

I know I have to leave but... 

fuck FUCK. 
I thought I would have more time. 

I feel my breath catch in my chest.
The closer we get to the front of the compound- the more I start to shake.
I thought I would have more time to gather my wits. I thought I would have more time to-

NO. 
I can't leave- not yet. 
I have to know- I HAVE to know. 

The guards push me to my knees in the lobby of the compound. 

My master is standing in front of me- hand outreached. His lips are moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

He’s smiling- laughing.
I can’t look at the man he’s talking to.
The man who now controls me and everything I do/say.

My master pulls me to my feet- showing off my intricate 'look' to whoever he's sold me to. 
He's quite proud. 

I can't think. I can't breathe. 

The news Jimmy gave me and the sudden action of being told that I’m now being removed from my home- the only home I've ever known- to go with a new man who is most certainly going to hurt me very badly- it’s all mixing together.

My Master takes my hand and pulls me into the center of the room- circling me. Supposedly showing off my best features.

I feel light-headed.

No. I can't leave yet. 
But... I can't say 'no'. 
I can't say anything. 

I feel out under the makeup- under the clothes. 
I stare around the lobby- lost. 
Scared. 
Frozen. 

When my master forces my head up suddenly- making me look towards the door- my knees buckle and my vision goes dark.
Sound cuts in for only a second- a cry of surprise, before I crumple to the floor.

Chapter Text

I’ve been heavily used and abused since before I can remember. It’s always been a factor in my life. Always. And I truly believe that it always will be.

We don’t get to pick our lot in life and have to take what we’re given.
No one gets to play god- especially not mutants.

Pain and sacrifice are a hard and true staple of my reality. In a society where you’re bought and sold and traded- it’s the only constant you can rely on.
And it’s a shitty system… but it’s all we have.

All of that being said, when things don’t line up that narrative, I find myself getting very easily worried and confused- pretty fast, too.

 Everything has a price- after all. It’s one of the things that has been beaten into my very soul. You don’t get something for nothing. And if you do… it’s either too good to be true or too bad to be sold.

Either way- you’re fucked.

The point is- People are only ‘kind’ when they want something or have been ordered to be by someone higher than them.

Usually, it’s pretty easy to see through, however. No one keeps up the charade for long. When wants and needs come into play- it’s usually pretty cut and dry. I’m honestly not used to people hiding what they want just for that very reason.

Yes, clients are known to play games… but they’re not really that elaborate.
I don’t think they care enough to put all the extra time it would take to keep a charade lasting that long. It’s all about immediate gratification. I mean- that’s the whole point of my existence- right?
Everyone knows it.

All of this is why I was more than shocked when I came to my senses- laid out carefully on a bed- still fully clothed and seemingly unharmed.

And unrestrained for that matter.

It sets off alarms almost immediately because.. well… it’s different from what I know. Really from ALL that I know. 

Not only am I not tied or chained down- I see no cameras. I don’t sense any guards outside the door- no scents to pick up on, that is. The door to the room doesn’t even appear to be locked.

There seem to be zero precautions taken to keep me in this room.

Which- again, is shocking.

Mutants are always treated like criminals- whether we’ve done anything to deserve it or not.
The humans find us untrustworthy on principle. The idea of being in a room with no lock is just... so, so, SO foreign to me.

The room is a smaller sized room- housing a bed that’s situated by a large window- with actual glass. To the side of the room by the door, directly in front of the bed by separated by a good little bit of space- easy enough for one to walk through comfortably- there is a smallish counter that is topped by a set of three cabinets. Soft gray and recently painted. The counter houses a sink with large handles that are brightly colored- blue and red.

 On the wall, there are two small black bins. One is semi see-through- holding what appears to be latex gloves. The other is completely solid black with little to no pictures to be seen. As such, I do not know what it says and cannot guess what it does.

The room is clean and sterile- The scent reminding me of my childhood- or more so, an instance in my childhood that I do not remember.

 I find it better to leave those ‘memories’ alone.
They can be quite upsetting and your brain blocks them for a reason.

 I was taught that blocking out memories is a good thing and helps us stay strong and keep moving forward … so I am proud of the mind's ability to keep me safe and functional.

When I observe myself more closely- besides the fact that I am fully clothed- which is odd beyond belief- I discover that there’s an IV in my arm. My brain is fuzzy from what I’d imagine is some sort of medical intervention.

I am rarely ever given any kind of medication.
My stable simply did not have the resources to be handing out medication left and right.
So the idea that I’ve been injected with something is… mildly discomforting.

I’m finding it very easy to be uncomfortable right now- which is totally against the purpose of this room, I believe.

It’s clear that this room is supposed to send a ‘calming’ message. Reassuring, I guess is the better word.
And I suppose on any other person, it may have worked.

But me?
I’m getting more nervous the more awake I become. Everything in the room looks to have been purposefully planned and put here.

I move around a little on the bed- no alarms go off. It doesn’t seem to be rigged or booby-trapped.

 Looking down, I see that they’ve removed my shoes- but not taken them away as I can see them poking out under the bed.

I think I can explain that easier than everything else as my stable never had us wear shoes. It’s possible my new owners don’t want me scuffing up their floors. As the floors in the room are bright, tile, and clean.

 I can’t imagine the purpose of this room.

I guess there are devices the cabinets can hold ... but it doesn’t look like a place where one would be able to do a lot of damage to someone else.

It smells like the lemons Master puts in his tea.
I’ve never tasted a lemon but…. I like the smell.

 Of course, this room has a slightly more… chemical hint to it than actual lemons. Like the chemicals, they use to splash down the communal showers every once and while- stopping the rapid mold growth that the room was oh so infamous for.

What all of this means is that someone at least put some amount of thought into actually taking care of the room they meant to house me in.

 So in a weirder sense… they seem to actually care that I wake up… comfortable.

It's such an odd thought. Eerie, in a sense. Whoever brought me here at least didn't want me to wake up in a state of distress.

Now, this being said, I know for sure that whoever that person is, they're going to want something in return for the sense of peace they’ve granted me.
As that's how situations like this almost always play out.

But... still. A bed. Wow.
An actual bed.

Not like the ones in the stalls that are beds really only in name. The hard wooden boxsprings being jammed into our backs under the thin as fuck mattresses… the squeaking noises the rusting metal bedframes made… the fact that we were absolutely not allowed to sleep on them… they weren’t like this bed.

No...this bed?
I can tell that's actually crafted with the idea of comfort in mind.
A sturdy but soft mattress … and I can’t feel a box spring at all. So I’m not even really sure it has one.

Plus... it's a bed I am in, defenseless to the will of others....without a man immediately on top of me.

In my experience, men don’t care if you’re passed out, sleeping, awake, sick- it doesn’t matter.
They don’t require consent so they don’t require consciousness. I’ve often wished that they would just drug us when taking clients. The day would go by so much easier if we were able to just not be mentally present for the trying and complicated interactions.

Again though- the point I’m trying to make is…. this room isn’t like the others.
This interaction? Unlike any I’ve ever been in.

A nice room- a clean room, at that.
Nice smells.
Soft mattress.

 ….What on earth did I do to deserve this?

I’m not the best at my trade- I’m good, but not the best.
Maybe they’ve brought here me assuming that if I’m comfortable I will be able to provide a better first interaction with them?

I turn my head to the side. I can’t get over this room’s window. A glass window… without bars.
I can see outside-completely unobstructed.

The sky is clear- probably more so than I've ever seen it.

The sun is shining bright- but looking down (down, down- so far down, I am higher than I've ever been!) I can see that there’s snow on the ground.

I can't believe that I’m this high up- though that's probably why the window doesn’t have bars but…

A bed. An IV. An unbarred window.

What is this place?

Why am I- me of all people- here?

Has there been some mix-up?

Any hospital that took me in would see my brands- it’s one of the first things they look for.
I mean... I'm due a new one so there may be some slight confusion but... someone would have surely straightened that out as quickly as possible. Letting an asset go free is completely unheard of.... even in the more liberal of circles.

I’m told that bigger cities can have more liberal-minded people. And...looking out the window- I do seem to be in a big city.

In my old stable- I was situated further away from big cities- so I find this odd. 

Stables don't do well when there's not a lot of space to house them... but I didn't expect to kept in such a... large... place. IF the city is that large outside of the window- how large is my new home? 

The buildings outside the windows are tall and closely spaced together- windows upon windows upon windows.
Rows of glittering glass- catching sunlight.

How... pretty.  

There’s a busy street down there as well- filled with cars.

 There's the sound of motors and honking- wow. 
City sounds- legit city sounds. 

Out of the maybe fifty-something cars I  see down this one busy street- Yellow taxis are the only ones I recognize.

 I’ve not been around vehicles much- but I did see a keeper come out of taxi once when her car broke down on the way to work.

It seemed to be a great inconvenience to her.
But… the taxi looked fun.
I like the idea of getting to tell someone where to take you.

I do not doubt that someone in charge knows where I am ... but I’m starting to think that maybe they misread my classification on my papers?
This looks like a place they would keep someone who they expected… better things from.
More intelligent and powerful things.

I’ve always assumed that strong power manipulators get the best housing out of all of us.
Seeing as for humans to use their power efficiently- they have to be well-rested.

Perhaps my master is just… confused as to what I’m intended for.
That would definitely explain why I’m still dressed.

Then again- perhaps they’re just… fancy?
Rich- maybe?
I don’t know how the wealthy live.
Come to think of it… outside of my home- I don’t know how anybody lives.

My clients were never allowed to take me offsite before.
I’ve never been inside an actual house.

Which… is what I think this place is.
A household- not a stable. Mainly based on the fact that it doesn’t sound like a stable.
I don’t hear any crying or screaming- it’s well lit, it’s clean, the temperature is warm and pleasant…
No- this is not a stable.

So… perhaps the is just what it’s like in a household?
They have actual rooms for you to stay in and actual cleaning standards.
It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing… I suppose.

I start calming myself down somewhat.
This doesn’t have to be something entirely terrifying. It’s just unknown.
But… there are a lot of things I don't know.
And in this environment- it looks like I have a lot to learn. Which means I have to take it one step at a time and not freak out over everything.

No one wants a spastic aide.
Keeping my emotions in check is going to be very important.
And honestly… somewhat trying.

I’m freaked out- yea. I’ll admit that.
I’m scared.

In a way, I guess you could say that means my education is complete.
I've internalized everything they've taught me.
My master would be so proud.

There’s a soft knock on the door. I know well enough not to speak- but again am super surprised that someone is knocking. Since when do I have a right to privacy?

These people... whoever they are... they don't know how this works.

They're confusing me in ways I'm not sure that I'm able to handle.

Someone yelling at me- or beating me... that I would get.
Someone telling me of my place.

This?
This I don't get.
And that's probably even scarier than all of what I've gone through this morning.

Maybe my new owners are foreigners?

After a few seconds of silence, a voice- calm and smooth- announces that a man is entering. I presume the man who purchased me. He doesn’t seem to have an accent that I can pick up on. So… definitely from somewhere in the US.

Fuck... He must be pretty pissed that I proved to be defective within seconds of meeting him.
Who faints when they meet their masters????
The interaction at the stable flashes through my mind- real and fast.

I’m probably in this room because he thinks something is wrong with me medically.
It may have absolutely nothing to do with my comfort!
or his wants- for that matter.
It’s probably just a nicety out of necessity.

I'll have to try to make a strong statement as to why he should keep me- proving that I do not have any expensive medical issues.

Maybe if I do it right...he'll let stay in the comfy bed?

He opens the door and announces his intent to enter again.

Why… would someone tell you they’re coming into your room?
Who has that kind of manners… towards me?

Does he not know… what I am?
Does he not know what he is?

The man who enters is thin yet muscular in a lean sort of way. His hair is dark with two white/gray streaks running near his ears. He looks… nice.

Men don’t usually look nice- I have to be on guard constantly. “Nice” isn’t something I’m necessarily used to.

He looks like… a father. I don't know how else to explain that.

He's conventionally attractive and honestly... he just looks trustworthy.
He has a calm air about him- as if he’s someone that can just be...trusted.

He waves as he walks towards me. An awkward little half-wave.

“Take it easy.” He says. “Okay? You’re safe. Stay calm.”

Safe?
Since when is anywhere ‘safe’?
Since when does anyone care about my safety?
Or any mutant's safety, for that matter?
We're to be used as they see fit. They can't do that if they're worried about our well being.

So... this has to be a setup.
Absolutely no way a human would be this nice to me.
Absolutely no way that anyone would be this nice to me.

I haven't done anything for him.

He's expecting something for all of his 'kindness'. And I will supply it to him in any way he asks.
I want to enjoy the treatment while it lasts... but the knowledge that it won't- it's not sincere- is putting a sour taste in my mouth.

The man is moving around slowly- definitely making sure that I at least pick up via his body language that he is not going to strike me. Though, I know there are much worse things someone can do in a bed than hit you.

I watch him carefully. He... seems carefree and... gentle?

He goes to the side of the room- by a counter pressed against the wall by the door, and pulls a small circular stool from under the counter and over to the other side of the bed- taking a seat. A seat away from me.

He… doesn’t get in bed with me?
He doesn’t tell me to undress.
He… doesn’t touch me.

What... is this? 

“Hi.” He says, smiling a little. "I’m sorry if you’re feeling hazy...You've been dosed with some mild sedatives. I suspect you had a panic attack when you were brought into the lobby and... well... fainted." He laughs a little. "I'm aware of how important today is to your people… And I assure you, you are by far not the first to faint and you definitely won't be the last." He looks at me with an expression of general… warmth? Like he enjoys talking to me. "So take it easy- okay? You are no longer in Kline's .... kind care."

Kline was master's last name. 

I find it beyond odd when people use it. 

Now that I do not belong to him... I guess it's okay to say.. if only in my own head. 

The man in front of me looks at me with a look of careful consideration.

He stays completely clothed. Long-sleeved shirt. Jeans. A white coat.

He’s obviously a doctor.

I’ve seen one or two in my time.
Have I been sold for medical testing?

I’ve heard of it happening but… assumed it wouldn’t happen to me.

My heartbeat quickens- thinking of all the ways he could hurt me.
I don’t really care for doctors.

Just the thought of being sold to a man who's going to remove my internal organs on a day to day basis makes me start to sweat. 

It’s obvious that he’s trying to keep me calm and relaxed, though. And I can't stop wondering.… why would someone- a human- do that? Why does he care about my comfort? Why is he prolonging the inevitable moment where he intends to break me in?
Does he not understand that if he’s nice upfront and then uses me later… it will hurt more?

I stay silent- a million things running through my head.
I have to remind myself of the rules I’ve known since birth.
No talking.
No disobedience.
No disagreements.
No disrespect.
Do as you’re told- always.
Never question.
Never stall.
Never run.
All I have is his.
And all he wants I will give.
This is what I know- this is all I know. This is what I will do. No matter how scared I am.

I immediately lower my gaze, watching the floor intently. I hope this is enough of an apology to cover whatever disrespect I may have accidentally shown in my earlier confusion.

I guess my mind has just... been occupied.
Whatever was in the IV must be wearing off….
I remember everything that happened this morning in glaring detail

My... brother. Jimmy. He...
He knew..
More than me.

I feel my unease and this terrible feeling of depression sweep over me.

He's gone.
I'm gone.
I'll never... I'll never know.
I had almost an entire year to ask him- to learn about him.... and I was too afraid to lean the short distance between us and ... even whisper to him.
The answers I need are far behind me.
And once again- I'm lost.

I think Jimmy's wrong.
I... don't think I'll ever be 'found'.

“So, I would like to introduce myself... formally. And then start explaining what is going on here... if that's okay with you and you think you’re stable enough to continue?”

Okay ... with me? Okay... with me. 
As if he's... asking for consent?

What an odd man.
What an odd concept.

I feel like I've fallen down the rabbit hole and woken up where people are completely backward.

Like that story that one of the Keepers told me when I was younger. 

I simply nod.
I don’t know what he means by ‘stable enough’. Since when do people care about any of my medical states… let alone my mentality?

I have no way to tell him that he can have literally anything he wants.
I honestly didn’t think humans… had to be told?
I thought they all just... knew that already.

"Okay good." He says. “I am Dr.-” he stops seeming to think. “Reed.” He says finally- as if he was unsure of what name to give me. He doesn't understand that even if he gives me his name... I will never be allowed to use it. “I’ve bought you-” He stops- mid-sentence. “I’m sorry- that just sounds so awful. “ He says. “Bought you- who buys..” He stops again. “I’m sorry- I am not sure how to say this and, to be honest… part of me was hoping I would never have to. So- I’m not overjoyed at-” He stops. “I don’t mean to say that your presence is unwanted, of course, just that process of… obtaining you is not one I thought I would find myself doing… ever. I’ve broken several personal rules of function I’ve had in place for-” He stops again- shaking his head and sighing. “That is beside the point. Let me regather my …. thoughts...for a moment, please.” He turns away from me- seeming to be trying to arrange his thoughts- rehearsing, in a sense.

It’s… awkward but… not everyone knows how to address pleasure aides and it can take some getting used to.

I’m not sure what personal rules he thinks that he’s broken… But I’m sure with enough time, we can get through our introduction.

Perhaps he wishes for me to ... ‘relax’ him?

I would go to my knees in front of him- but the way he’s positioned his stool leaves no room, so I stay put.
If I can’t use my mouth- my hands are also good.
I just need for him to turn back to me so I can confirm what he needs from me.

Maybe he’s one of those men who just needs… visual help when it comes to learning how the relationship between master and … aide is supposed to go?

I try to give him an encouraging look.
Trying to assure him not to feel bad.
He's new to this.
It’s my job to please him- he doesn’t have to worry about something stupid like… not insulting me.
I’m… not able to be insulted.
I mean- not noticeably so. Let alone to a human.
Really… any human, at that.

“Let's start here- do you have a name?” He asks. “I think it would be easier to address this.. issue... if I knew who I was addressing.” He looks at me hopefully.

I… don’t have a name. And I can’t talk to him.

Again… I thought this was something all humans knew..?

I shake my head- watching him carefully.
Perhaps he’s lived somewhere else… even though he sounds American?
Maybe other countries don’t have these kinds of rules?

“Nickname?” He asks- somewhat perplexed sounding.

I shake my head again.

“I see. Do you understand...English fluently? Can you speak another language? Is the… dialect I’m using too… confusing to follow?” He asks. “I speak multiple languages. If there is a communication issue we can gladly find a workaround.”

I glance at him- trying to decipher if this is a trick. I have no way to communicate that I cannot speak to him.
Most humans do not understand our signs- no one ever bothers to learn how we communicate with each other. 

But ... he said he speaks multiple languages... right? 
Perhaps….. he knows enough for me to respectfully communicate that I can’t… respectfully communicate?

I try the most basic version of signing that I know. The one used by most mutants.
I simply sign, ‘I understand’.

Fuck- I am tired of having people think I"m too stupid to comprehend the language I was born speaking.
Asking if his dialect is too confusing??? What?

I sign, “I am listening’. Trying to be helpful.

He watches and nods. “Signing. That’s right.” He says quietly. “you don’t speak, do you? I mean you can,” He pauses, “But you’re not allowed to.”

I shake my head again.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly.

 And… I feel like he means it.

“An involuntary vow of silence can’t be easy on you.”

I hold still.
I’m not supposed to be upset by anything the humans impose on me.
Literally- anything.
Something as simple as nod here could… land me in a good bit of trouble.

“Okay- let’s take this from the top,” He says- a little more sure of himself. “My name is Reed. I am a scientist, meta human-related issues mainly but I’ve got quite a few PHDs in quite a few different areas of study. Physics, Astrophysics, molecular biology- things like that. You know- just trying to understand what keeps the world spinning.”

So… he’s an intellectual.
Well… our relationship is going to be very lopsided then isn't it?

“So, I’ve purchased you from Mr. Kline’s little stable of horrors,” He says, “And brought you to my home about two and a half hours away. So, not entirely removed from your home- you could go back on a visit-” He stops. “I'm sorry.” He says. “I’ve just remembered that you uh… aren’t allowed to go back. I didn’t mean to bring the subject up that is painful for you.”

I nod. It is painful.
There is no going back.

And it is impossible because of 2 factors.

1) mutants aren't allowed to go back to their original stables/homes.
Ever.
2) mutants aren't allowed to drive
Ever.

Even if I keep my enhanced stamina in mind... I wouldn't be able to make it that far without being caught. Running away will bring nothing but pain to you and everyone around you.
I’m not one for causing undeserved suffering to anyone.

With everything in mind, the task is... impossible.

He considers my very subdued reaction. “To set this matter straight and relieve any… undo stress, I would like for you to know that I have purchased you for someone else. As I am very happily married and my wife would be very upset if I were to be unfaithful to her meaning that I would quite possibly find myself very seriously injured." He adds this last part with a laugh. “Not that she isn’t happy to have you in our home.” He adds quickly. “But… just.. not for me, you understand.”

I do.

While I’ve never been able to practice monogamy- mainly because I’m not allowed to be in a relationship, to begin with, I do understand the principles of it.
mono- 1. 1 person.
Easy.

“I think you will be happy to note that my friend is much closer to your age than mine.” He says, smiling again. “I think you’ll find him most agreeable in that sense.”

Oh well… yes.
I suppose having an owner closer to my age will be.. refreshing?

“Unfortunately… however, this whole deal with my purchasing you for someone else is really... well awkward. He’s not exactly a person who is… easy to shop for. And buying him an entire thinking, breathing, person is well… hard.”

He.. called me a person.
He called me a person. A person. Not a thing. Not worthless. A person.

“This has honestly been an entirely insane shopping process that I would not wish upon my worst enemy. The places I have been… it’s quite unsettling. Procuring you has been quite a task to undertake. And honestly, I’m not sure if my friend will be all too grateful for it.” He laughs a little. “Can’t even buy a decent birthday present. The fact that I’ve found a mutant that fit the mold we need so quickly is… just insane.”

I can’t imagine the process from his eyes.
But I’m dying to tell him that has been anything but easy from my end, as well.

He looks suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry if that was rude- I don’t mean to make jokes about your predicament. I understand that this is very serious.” He exhales slowly. “Please understand that my joking is not to laugh at you but merely to relieve some tension?”

I can… believe that.

“See, you are tense, I am tense..’ He motions between us. “And I’m trying to honestly make sure this goes as well as possible. I don’t want to stress you out or… make you any more nervous than you probably already are.”

That’s… kind of him.

“The point I am very horribly trying to reach is that the man I bought you for... he means a lot to me. He’s family- and family is by far the most important thing in my life. And… he’s in danger.  We- my family that is- need to step in and prove his.. worth- for lack of a better word- on a big enough scale to the proper authorities. If we don’t, he's not going to be able to stay.. with us. I'm sure you can sympathize with the pain of being torn from your home, hmm?"

I just nod- weakly.
Yes. Yes, I do.

He returns my nod. "Yes, today is very emotional, I'm sure. My friend is... very sorry that this is happening to you." He says quietly. "We all are. It's not something we've entered into lightly. There is a way of the world,” he says. "And I know that you know this more so than anyone. I think it would surprise you, however, to learn that it's not just that way for mutants. There are things expected of everyone in every walk of life. It is how the vast majority of humans... our leaders, that is- deem fit to keep our world going. And they will do whatever it takes to maintain.. the balance." He watches me carefully. “Just as I seek to understand what keeps the universe working… they set about to keep our society steady, stable, and growing.”

I nod again.

"It’s not really balanced.” He says. “And It's not fair or logical." His voice is lower- almost like he’s afraid to say that too loud. "But... it is what it is. And at this point, to keep my friend safe- to keep him on the 'path' that his leaders have deemed necessary... we need your help. And in giving us your help… you will be saving his life."

My mouth falls open- very unattractively at that.
This is… not how I saw this going.

I point to myself- confused.
Me?
He wants ME to help save his friend’s life?
I … am a fucktoy.
A glorified whore.

 How can I... possibly save someone’s life?

“Yes. You." He says, smiling a little. "Let me explain a little more… You see, men of our society, that is human society, are expected to fulfill certain roles. The main one of which is to be... a leader. This can be a leader of a household, or a business- something that contributes to society. Households make children. Children make future leaders- you see. A man's worth in our society is proven by what he can accomplish. What he can add to it, basically. How he can keep our way of life going.” He motions circularly with his right hand. “A society is seen as a singular machine- to make a complex issue a little simpler. And every person, big or small, is a… cog in the machine.” He pauses. “Do you know what that is?”

I shake my head- embarrassed at my lack of knowledge.

“That’s alright.” He says gently. “A cog is a .. piece. A gear. Something that helps the bigger machine run. Every single man woman and child is an individual co... gear. And all of the gears are moving on their own- independently of each other. However, to keep everything moving- they need to be working together. If the pieces aren’t doing their individual jobs- everything will breakdown. Quickly, at that.” He watches me carefully. “Our leaders have put rules- laws- into effect that they truly believe will keep everything running smoothly. And we are not above these laws. The laws are.. to keep us safe. As we do have foreign enemies that could pose a real threat to us.”

When he pauses, I nod- trying to show him that I am following as closely as possible.

“ So a man’s position in our society is determined by things like... education, upbringing, social class- importance. Much like all of the things that play a part with how you are viewed." He says. "Men are expected to run households, run cities, run businesses, or... work in... mutant control measures." He pauses, leaning forward. "Now this, this is where your world comes into play. Your piece in our machine is very small. And it is heavily controlled. What you know- what you are taught- is how to keep the men on top happy and content. Your population is highly monitored and controlled by what the men at the top deem appropriate. To do this- they have to put people in charge that will…. keep your people in line. Do you understand?”

I shake my head.
I am.. confused- just a bit.

“Hmm.” He bits his lower lip. “Okay- Let’s try this. You-” He points at me. “Were born and raised in… Kline’s stable- right?”

I nod.

“Right. And since before you can remember you have been taught that you are to submit to whatever any human being tells you. You have been taught that you are to be ... used to fulfill man’s… desires- right?”

I nod again.

“So, just like you were taught… there are other classes of mutants taught similar but different things. The men who teach them these things are in charge of making sure that we, the humans, have enough mutants doing exactly what they are supposed to do… to keep supplying us with what we need to keep society running. So while you think what you’re doing doesn’t have a role in all of this,” He motions around the room, “In a sense, it does.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

 “Now for a little... history lesson, if you’ll allow me to explain a little further.” He waits a second and then continues with, “So, In all of the history of mankind- there has been no way to beat down or control your … enemies like taking their children.” He says. “Your people are removed from their parents as soon as they draw breath- divided up into the classes that the humans think need filled. You might think that the classes are… random. That they don’t have anything to do with each other. But- again- just as all the human cogs are working together- so are the mutant ones.”

Okay.
So we work… together… but apart… to support humans.
And we aren’t allowed, parents… because they are trying to control us?

“The houses you’ve been taught have to do with bloodlines- which is a way to say that when you are born, they scan you to see if you have the mutant X gene and then compare that to your… genetic makeup. Your parents- grandparents. Some of these bloodlines are potent. They produce strong mutant descendants that can be useful to humans. Some bloodlines are desired in building, for instance. Some are more useful in power generation. Some are more useful in… testing. Medically- that is. Organ harvesting and the like. And then some are more desirable in fields such as… pleasure. Which is what your class is. This seems very random… but… again, it isn’t.” He says, pointing to me. "Just like the ‘pits’ house workers and labors- the stables, where you were, actually house something much more… precious. Most of the strongest mutant bloodlines- the ones that could be.. troublesome if left unchecked- are sold to the stables. The idea is to keep rebellion down… by breaking you from very young ages- when you are unable to fight. It is also to punish free mutants. You descend from men and women who were powerful enough to move the earth… so you are used in the most despicable way humans could think to use you. In our laws, this is a sacrifice you and all of your descendants will make to appease the higher powers and repay for the human blood split in the past battles that were waged between your people and ours. You’re heavily controlled and kept as weak as possible. I doubt you even know what your own power set is, hmm?”

I shake my head.

Mr. Reed nods. “The humans, of course, got a little … insane with the breeding of mutants. The bloodlines entire value- in your case- is based on how strong you could be. Higher status for the men who control you comes from the fact that they are doing MORE for society by making sure the stronger of the mutant descendants,” He points to me again, “like you, are kept under control.”

I… understand.
It sets uneasy with me… but I understand.
I’ve been fed a childlike story- a mere reflection of what is.

I feel like he is telling me what other humans wouldn’t.

“The system is beyond broken.” He says. “It is brutal and it is cruel ... meant for immediate squashing of any possible rebellion. The entire purpose is to punish those who are deemed dangerous… and dissuade others from.. taking up arms against the humans. As well as being a mockery of those who you were taken from."

The world is more brutal and cruelly designed than I thought.
How…
I don’t know.

I accept what he is saying as true.
But… I don’t want it to be.

“So, coming full circle here, if a human male is not married and producing children- who will be leaders of the future- or being useful to politics, he should be in mutant containment. The scale of which his involvement needs to be is decided on an individual basis. He goes to a small council in his local community and is assessed. They check on his financial status, notability, job, and social class- all of the above- and give him the number of mutants he needs to suppress to be considered legally responsible enough to be part of our society in the ways he personally desires. This whole assessment happens at age 20. He has until 21 to either become married, politically involved, or a master- for lack of a better word. If he fails to comply with any of these options…. he will be assigned a role to play- whether he wants to or not. A lot like how you were assigned your role.”

That- I understand.
He doesn’t want his friend to be sent away ... and his friend is unmarried and has no children.

"So, each man is given a minimum number he is to contain- ranging from 1-12. Some men enter into mutant containment with the number of 12 as a gift from his higher-ups. The larger number you have, if you are of the mindset, the more money you can make off of them. This is how the stables were started. 12 is the minimum that man was given so the more he acquires, the ability to sell and trade them for monetary value becomes available. Eventually, stables that are well known and well established for having higher class mutants will be able to begin the process of becoming specialty stables. Like- yours. One that dealt with purely children. And some that deal with only women. Some with only men. Sooner or later the men are allowed to begin the process of ‘aging’ or ‘phasing’ mutants out. Selling them for large amounts of money and then using the money to purchase more slaves- often of higher value. Stables are very profitable but some men prefer to have a lower number of mutants. 3-5 are usually kept by architectures- they are allowed to use their powers- even trained in them- and made to be as strong as possible. 3-5 of them are unlikely to overthrow their owner and still powerful enough to get the work done. Men who have 1-2 mutants are usually somewhat famous for either strides in advancing our society- like doctors and scientists- or.. famous- Like actors or singers. They aren’t above the law. And acting and science without producing children- do not count enough to exclude them. So, mutants that are sold to households are usually the ones who are meant to stay solitary. Some mutants are just sold from stable to stable. It’s a very complex system.”

I feel more like an item than I ever have.
I know this probably wasn’t his intent but… my people are just things.
I know this- of course- I’ve always known. But seeing someone lay it out for me… so openly.

“My friend has been told that his minimum number- should he wish to stay with his family and continue to be part of ‘business’- is one. However, if he wants to really prove himself and put the issue to rest for the rest of his life, he needs to contain a very important class of mutant from a very important bloodline. One of a certain level of prestige. A way of assuring that he is putting forth the needed effort to make the world safer." He looks at me, softly at that. "You are the proper class- which would be the descends of 1 or more of the original 6 bloodlines that were the first ever to be recorded.” He holds up six fingers. “6. The entire first roster of x-men that were able to be contained- for a very, very short time, mind you. You are the son of one of these mutants. Your line is well noted for both its beauty… and it’s savagery. By purchasing you, my friend will show that he is loyal to our leaders and that he is submissive to the laws of our society that he is bound to.”

Mr. Reed points at me again. “Not only are you of one of these most treasured bloodlines- You have an 18-year history of service which has been well documented, very few behavioral complaints, little to no health issues, and… well… to be honest, you're highly attractive- which just makes you more acceptable to be seen in public among humans. You are literally what the doctor ordered.”

I feel sick to my stomach.
Puking will not help my case here, though.
I swallow it all down.

“See, the trouble is that my friend- well, he’s like a little brother- I’m married to his older sister so he’s my brother in law- if you know what that is?”

I nod. I know loosely how marriage works.

It's not something we're taught, of course. We're not allowed to marry.
One of our keepers told me about her husband once. How happy they were.
The idea of being with the same partner day in and day out... is highly appealing to me.
Knowing that no matter what- you have one special person. And they'll always be there. I prefer that system over the 15 Johns a day one I've lived for so long.

“He’s not managed to marry… and it will honestly be a moot point as he has been proven to be completely infertile. Which, is partly my doing, I suppose as it is the remnants of the slight effect his enhanced biology has taken on him. He could marry a woman and maybe have three or so years of peace before they would be demanding he be tested for fertility issues. Should they discover that he married with prior knowledge that he would not produce children… he would be in a fair amount of trouble. So, obviously, he’s found marriage to be a rather pointless venture.” He pauses for a long moment. “We’ve come down to two very extreme options.” He says. “One was applying for him to be sent to another country to do civil service, the other…is you. Unfortunately, his status as metahuman has invalidated his request for off country work. And, with his recent birthday, he is out of time to try to reapply. So, quite simply, all of our hopes… have come down to you.”

Wow.
Again- I still feel sick to my stomach.
I am happy for the soft surface of the pillows behind me- keeping me upright.

“So, metahumans, like my friend, have a rather unique role to play. Particularly young men who are unmarried and childless. They are often sent to other planets- far far away- to be soldiers, ambassadors or simply used to forge political relationships with other species via arranged political marriages. However, if they cannot produce children with their partners… their chance of survival is very, very slim. As most of these people who are sent off the world will be killed- violently. So imagine, if you will, what you are feeling today- having been removed from your home- multiplied by 100. That is what it will feel like if he should be forced to leave his home planet.”

 That is... scary- to say the least.
I don’t know how to multiply things… but I imagine via the context of the sentence it means to make something much, much bigger.

"The act of deploying metahumans is a thinly veiled excuse to use our ranks as expendable members of our society. We love him very much and don’t want this to happen to him. Metahumans like us… we’re a little public. So, they can’t just up and do something to hurt him publicly without some sort of recourse. They can make a deal with a very important species and have him sent away as a ‘species ambassador’. As of this point and time, they do not know of his infertility. When it is discovered- he is… doomed. Just like mutants are bred, the humans are trying to establish metahuman/alien relationships to secure hold over these higher species. It’s the same concept applied far more… kindly. Loosely, I should say.”

Wow.
I didn’t know… any of this.
I thought meta humans just… existed alongside humans.
… I Didn't know there was even a real difference.

"So… we need your help.” He says. “ And you have no reason to help anyone you don't want to. But please. You are our last hope... and we are desperate." He looks down. “Buying another person was never something any of us wanted. I hope you know that. And… we are aware that you have no say in this. But, I want it on the record… that we are remorseful and would like to have your.. well not consent- but the knowledge that … this… this isn’t what we wanted.”

I look down at my arm- the IV.
The lack of pain. In less than a few hours- I’d guess- this man has been kinder to me than anyone has in the last 10 years.
I don’t really understand why this has come about but…
I can’t tell him ‘no’.

 He looks at me for a long moment. “So.. will you help us?” he asks gently. “Please.”

He’s asking me… asking me?

 I nod- seeing as he’s apparently waiting for my response.

He extends his hand to me. “Shake on it?”

I take his hand- weakly gripping it. We shake for a few awkward moments longer than needed before he lets go. “Thank you. Your sacrifice is far more appreciated than you know. I swear to you that we will try to make things as easy and painless as possible. There are some laws that we will have to comply with… of course. But...we will find a way to work them in a mutually beneficial fashion.” He smiles. “Okay?”

I just weakly nod.

“Okay.” He responds. “Now, let’s get you moved from that bed into your new living quarters- hmm?” He moves around to my other side, removing the IV needle. “You won’t be needing that now.” He says. “I just wanted to make sure you were in a calmer state while we talked this out. ” He stands up and goes across the room- tossing the materials for the IV away in a bin I failed to identify earlier.

When he opens it it's filled with .. needles?
Used needles?
Oh- I understand.

It’s to keep bloodborne diseases from spreading.
Like… what the redhead died from.

So it’s a bin that marks people’s blood as dangerous.
That means… he thinks my blood is dangerous???

Something must show because he says awkwardly. “That’s uh… an everybody precaution.” He nods to the bin. “You’re not supposed to touch anyone else’s blood. It’s not me singling you out.” He turns around and locks the bin with a small key he pulls out of his pocket. “We need to be very careful about where we put anyone in this buildings' DNA. We don’t want anyone getting cloned.” He laughs after this- obviously joking. He turns back to me after pocketing the key. “If you’re feeling well enough to stand, would you mind following me? There’s a lot of introductions that need to be made and … well… I foresee it being very awkward. It’s best to just… get it out of the way.”

I answer by standing to my feet.
I’m unsure about all that’s been discussed but… fuck it.
This is home.
Might as well do what he says.

I look down at the floor- trying to steady myself and when I look back up- he’s stretched his arm about five times a normal arm should stretch- picking up the tennis shoes and handing them to me while he remains across the room.

I stare at him in shock.
Real shock.

He smirks.“As you can tell, my family and I aren’t really… all that human ourselves. Lace those up, we don’t want you to trip and fall.” His arm returns to the rest of his body- reassuming its original shape like it was nothing.

I bend down and try to lace the shoes- laughably bad at it since I haven’t worn them for the past 18 years.

He watches me struggling for a moment- seemingly confused by how I’m failing at such a simple task. My cheeks are hot with embarrassment. He’s a doctor. A scientist. I must be just some idiotic freak to him.

I manage to tie the laces in a knot- horribly- and tuck them into the shoe- hiding them out of sight.

I stand back up, keeping my eyes down.
I am unsure if after all of this discussion… tonight will occur like it is… supposed to.
He did say we would have to follow certain laws ... but I’m not sure what that means in this case.

He nods a little to himself. “Good. Now, follow me, if you would.”

He doesn’t grab me.

He doesn’t force me into the hallway- he just stays a few feet ahead of me.

I leave the room and am constantly in awe of just how… big the space is.
Like… wow.
This lone hallway could house like… maybe 12 maximum size stalls
That would be so much money made at one time.

“This is our building.” He says, holding his arms open to indicate just how big it is. “Our business keeps it running- the hero business, that is. So it’s very large and contains many things that don’t need to be meddled with. The labs are on this level and the living compartments- one of which you will occupy- are on the level above. If you wouldn’t mind, please remain in the housing units only- unless accompanied by someone. It’s not that we don’t trust you… but I was told that … people in your position often became quite suicidal at times. And we obviously need to keep you in a safe environment so you do not feel the need to… escalate to that extreme.”

Right.
A cage without bars.
How fitting for this very odd situation.

“Our hero status makes us a little… popular with the general public.” He says. “And… you will, of course, be shown with us at times… but if you wish to stay further out of the limelight, we will respect your wishes.”

They’re famous?

Of course- he probably already said that.

The entire current ‘level’ of the building is shiny- chrome. There's plush gray carpet underfoot and the walls are clean. It’s a far cry from the dens I’m used to- that’s for sure.
No sound can be heard other than the distant lull of machines beeping and our combined footsteps.

I suppose the beeps are from his 'labs' where he.. keeps experiments?

Hopefully not of the mutant variety.

“Here we are.” He calls for an elevator- which I’ve only ever been on one.
I recognize the sliding doors.

I’ve only been on one once ... and I am nervous that it will break.
I know I am not able to suffer permanent injury… but I do not like the idea of plummeting downwards in a metal box.

Needless to say, I’m a little nervous as the doors open. A loud ding echoes in the hallway.

He notes my nerves and smiles gently. “I service the elevators myself.” He says. “they are very, very safe.” He nods to the open box. “After you.”

I enter uneasily- feeling the slight bounce of the box on its cables.

“It’s a really simple science,” he says, ushering me further towards the back wall while closing the doors. “stay back, please.”

The box is large- the back of it is so shiny it’s almost reflective enough to be counted as a mirror. The floor is a tile pattern made of blue and white. On one side of the door, there is a bright red telephone. On the other, a long list of numbers- I guess for the various floors.
I note that there's a bright red ‘49’ shown in a screen above the first button. Reed pushes the ‘50’ button- the very last option- and turns to me with a smile. “Guess you haven't really gotten to experience much, hmm?”

I nod jerkily before closing my eyes tightly- feeling trapped in a small room with a man I do not know on a device I am unsure of.

There’s a minor jolt that brings my heart to my throat.
Then we start moving up.
This doesn’t feel natural in the slightest.

“It’s okay.” He says soothingly. “This is exactly what it’s supposed to do. It’s all completely safe.”

His voice is calming, but I keep my eyes shut anyway.

“Not scary in the slightest,” He says soothingly “Just push the button… and we go up… barely for a minute- and…”

There’s a loud ding- which makes me jump.

“Safely arrived at our floor.” He says- cheerfully at that. “See?”

I crack my right eye open- seeing that the screen now reads ‘50’.

“That was easy, right?” He says gently. “Not so bad.”

The doors open- revealing a brightly lit room- which is oddly probably the biggest room I’ve ever seen- and that … is saying something after coming from the large space below us.

I’m in awe.

"The main floor is where the family stays." He says. "Which we understand if you won't consider yourself a part of, we won't push that on you. BUT we would love to have you around when your," He coughs into his hand. "Services aren't needed."

For a scientist, Mr. Reed is very uncomfortable with the physical aspects of my position.

Maybe that's just another sign of him being a good person?

An intelligent, kind, family man who just wants to help his brother (in-law).

I'm not seeing clues that point towards him being a sadist. Usually, those are rather easy to find when first meeting someone. Mr. Reed is raising no red flags. Which again- might be a red flag all of its own.

"Naturally this floor is going to be loud." He says, chuckling a little "Our children are under ten. And they're very ... curious." he smiles- proudly.

..is that what parents look like when they talk about their children?
...did my parents ever look like that when talking about me?
Did anyone? Ever?

There’s a scent of food wafting through the large space. I can't help but inhale deeply.

What is that smell?
Definitely not the roughly textured, grainy gruel we’re fed.

Come to think of it-I haven't eaten in a week.
Whatever this food is smells amazing.

My sense of smell isn't the only thing being assaulted- the noise Mr. Reed had warned me about is very, very obvious.

He exits the elevator, keeping his arm in the door- I guess to hold it open.
I don’t like the idea of it closing with I'm on the outside and me still in it.

But the idea of walking into my new home is slowing me down.
I’m nervous and I want to make a good impression.

“Take your time.” He says gently.

His family notes his presence and keeps on doing what they're doing.

The children- two small blondes, one boy and one girl- are running around in a large living space- filled with many light blue couches and seemingly far too big furniture pieces and a large TV that's blasting bright and colorful cartoons.

The tv is easily the size of our community screen that the untraining videos are shown on. It’s thin- and the screen is flat.

The cartoons are loud and bright and… fun. I’ve never seen cartoons before!
They look so interesting! Wow. I’ve heard keepers talk about them but… it’s almost mesmerizing.
The children don’t even seem to make note of them.

If I was able… I would just stare at them… for hours.

I'm momentarily stunned by the flashing pictures- stepping out of the elevator to obtain a better view.

“There we go.” Mr. Reed says gently, removing his arm and letting the elevator doors close.

In the kitchen space which is open enough to be viewed straight through the living space- I guess so she can keep a watch on her kids- there is a woman- probably mid-thirties (if that.)

She’s thin, blonde, and fair. Beautiful. She is talking on her phone- laughing and joking while making food. She's dressed a pair of jean shorts airing on the short side of things and a blue sweatshirt with a large white '4' in a circle. Her hair is in that messy bun style that the girls at the compound used to wear when they were trying to stretch out days between washes. She’s discussing some sort of party on her phone.

“Everyone,” Mr. Reed clears his throat pointedly gaining the attention of everyone else in the room, before ever so slightly motioning to me. “This is our new…friend.”

I move further into the room- trying to keep my head down.
I hate being introduced to new people.
It's always so awkward and to be honest, I don't have solid footing at all.

This... isn't what I thought it would be.

It's not what I was told to prepare for and honestly the deal they seem to be trying to use me as a part of doesn't seem to be on par with what is expected of us. Half of me hopes I am getting a break. ...But the other half of me knows better than to have any sort of hope whatsoever. Hope leads to disappointment. Too much disappointment can lead to despair. And once you go down far enough.... you don't come back up.

The woman says, quite kindly, “Jen, let me call you back, okay hun? Okay.” She hangs her phone ( a model like what the keepers have always had but somehow.. nicer) up and walks to us, smiling wide.

“Hi.” She says, waving a little and making herself as unimposing as possible. “Wow. Look at you.” She keeps her smile but is obviously a little shocked. "The real deal, huh?" She laughs a little awkwardly.

"Yep. Got papers and everything." Mr. Reed says. He gently pats my shoulder. “He’s a wonderfully perceptive young man.”

Really?
A compliment that isn’t.. looks based?
From an intelligent man of science.
It’s… the best compliment I’ve ever received.

“Oh, yea?” The woman says, looking pleasant but her eyes are..slightly worried.

"And…” Mr. Reed says, “ he's agreed to help us. Everything has worked perfectly. No one is going to go anywhere."

She is visibly relieved- letting out the happiest sound I think I've ever heard anyone make. "Oh god." She breathes silently, her hands over her mouth. "Thank you. Thank you thank you." She looks at me in a way I do not understand.

I'm not used to be thanked... for anything.
Again- this is something that fills me with unease.

She extends her hand. “Sue.” She says. “I’m Reed’s wife. Johnny’s sister. The only feminine touch these knuckleheads get.” She says, laughing. “So obviously, the brains of the operation.”

Mr. Reed chuckles.

“Objections?” Mrs. Sue asks, raising her eyebrow.

“None at all.” He says- cheerfully and.. .obviously in an infatuated way.

Is this…

Is this what married people are like?

“Johnny is so lucky.” She says, in a tone that is… one I don’t know-how process. Friendly? Like I’m just another one of her house guests. “I mean, I saw the picture but… wow. This is… crazy, right?” Her eyes are filled with unshed tears.

I guess… this Johnny person means a lot to her.
Of course, he does- he’s her brother.

I guess brother/sister relationships are stronger in the human world?

She smiles at me- wide and warm. She’s so insanely happy. “I um… thank you.” She says, again. “For agreeing to this. Really... you cannot imagine how much this means to me. ”She motions to Mr. Reed as well. "To us."

I reach out and take her hand- shaking it. She clasps her other hand over mine- holding it tightly.

I seem to have made her day.

I don't like being praised for something I was going to do anyway.
I feel like they should be thanking Mr. Reed. As... it seems like it was his idea. And probably his money that was spent to buy me.

"You look... wow." She says, again. "I don't think I can claim to be the prettiest anymore."

There's some laughing between the two adults before Mr. Reed wraps his arm around her waist. "You'll always be the prettiest to me." He says, kissing her cheek.

"You will have to show me how you do your makeup." She says, excitedly. “It’s beautiful!”

This isn't how I do my own makeup.
I do it much differently.
If hse asks me to recreate this look- I can't. That sends a shiver of panic down my spine.
Not being able to give her- a member of the household to which I now belong- what she wants means severe punishment.

Then again... who knows with these people? They are strange.

I have no solid ground to stand on here.
We stand quietly for a long moment.

"Oh," Mr. Reed says as if he forgot. "He doesn't speak." He says. "We should remind everyone not to put pressure on him. It is one of the rules they came with, unfortunately.”

"Oh no." She laughs a little awkwardly. She turns to her husband. “Does he,” she motions between the two of us, “Understand English?” She asks, almost in a whisper.

“Yes.” Mr. Reed says. “He is fluent in English.” He smiles. “Like I said, he is quite the perceptive young man.”

 Mrs. Sue nods. “So… um… does he… have a name? I know you weren't sure if his … stable was one of the ones that gave nicknames...so..?”

“No.” Mr. Reed says. “He does not have any sort of name that he goes by. I suppose Johnny will help him out with that?”

Mrs. Sue nods. “Yep. I will make sure of it.”

There's a lull in conversation- them seeming to speak quietly amongst themselves for a few seconds. I know better than to listen to people's conversations when I ‘m not expressly included. My eyes drift back to the TV.

I’m so amazed.
Did someone make that? by hand?
Wow.

There’s a small, tense laugh that comes from Mrs. Sue. ”I'm sorry-” She says to me. “ this is just...so… you know?” She asks Mr. Reed before turning back to me. “ you” She said, motioning to me. “ here. We're so happy to have you and so so grateful for your help... But... ya know... knowing what you do and what you've been through it's just... unbelievable." She says. "And now ya know... face to face with what the humans have done-"

"Dear, no politics in front of little ears," Mr.Reed says, in a whisper.

Mrs. Sue nods. "I just mean to say that all this is just... god. Wow. Um.. this is just... “ she stops, looking to her husband. “Awkward? Is that the word I'm thinking of?” She asks, laughing. “I mean… like… meeting my little brothers… God, I don’t even think there’s anything to compare this to!”

“I would definitely say that ‘awkward’ fits.” he agrees, laughing good-naturedly “But, what’s important is that we make sure everyone involved is adjusting at a nice and normal speed, okay?”

She nods. “Right! So... while we're all getting used to each other, why don't we take you to your room, to meet Johnny? I tried to clean everything up for you,” she says, “Ya know- in your space. But uh… Johnny had a little malfunction today? Kinda roasted some stuff.” She laughs. “Not to worry- everything is repaired- the rooms just smell a little… burnt? Kinda like burnt popcorn smell?” she laughs. "Ya know how that lingers forever and a day."

I do not know what burnt popcorn smells like.
I… don’t even know what unburnt popcorn smells like.

“So, we’re airing them out, of course. But it’s a persistent smell.” She rolls her eyes. "I told Johnny to be careful but... god knows how well he listens."

I nod, hoping to show my gratitude that she even thought to clear out a space for me. Let alone struggled with clearing the air for me.

“So um.. yea.” She says, rocking back on the balls of her feet. “Welcome to our home. Well- your home, as well. There’s a bathroom in the living space as well as yours in your room. Kitchen- if you let me know what kind of things you like to eat or snack on- I will gladly pick them up for you! Um… let me see… uh- oh. Clothes. Your um…. ‘caretaker’ sent some with you… and you can go through them and decide what you want to keep or whatnot. I can take you shopping for some essentials. I understand that you uh… had to dress a certain way? But if you don’t mind, we have small children and would prefer if you were to dress a bit more.. modestly?” She smiles. “Not that you had any say in how you dressed or that it was your choice… just… pointing out that.. you uh... don’t have to dress that way now.” She laughs again. “God!” she says- voice melodic and humor-filled still. “I’m so sorry. This is just so awkward.” She motions between us. “I mean, awkward for us- I can only imagine what you’re feeling.” She gushes.

I feel confused.
Scared.
...lonely?

I know none of these people.
They seem to have so much love for each other and… I feel out of place.

I’ve been purchased for a man who hasn’t even made himself known yet- which is a really good start to the relationship we’re supposed to form.

There’s an uneasy silence between us for a moment- interrupted by the kids breaking out into a small scuffle over a toy.

The sudden noise makes me jump a little.

Mrs. Sue follows my gaze. “Oh!” she says, lightly tapping her forehead. “How rude of me.” She motions to the kids. “This is Val and Franklin. You don’t have to worry about them -they are our kids and won’t be bothering you, okay?” She looks at the two with a pointed look that says ‘agree with me- or else’.

“Right.” the boy chimes in.

The girl is a little more hesitant. “You are really pretty.” She says, instead. “like… really pretty. Are boys supposed to be that pretty?”

I try to not feel any more awkward than I have to.

“Yes, he is,” Mrs. Sue says. “Now, you and Franklin go play in the playroom while we get him settled in, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy!” The girl says happily- running off with her brother.

mommy.
these are their real kids.
That means Mrs. Sue birthed them… and then got to keep them.

“Darling, you take him to get settled in and I will make sure that all of the paperwork is in order.” Mr. Reed nods to me. “Welcome home. I will see you a bit later.”

Mrs. Sue gently links arms with me- leading me into the further into the home. “Let’s start with the tour.” She says. “So this is the living room,” She motions around the room we’re in. “over here is the kitchen- totally available to you 24/7. Anytime. hungry or thirsty- what we have we share. Do you know how to cook?”

I shake my head.

Hard to read instructions with the little grasp I have on it.

“I’ll teach you the ropes.” She says, happily. We leave the kitchen and she points into a dimmed room with a large table. “Dining room. We like to eat all of our meals together when possible. We’re a family and we act like it… cringy family time and all.” She says with a laugh. We move further down a hall. “So, this is where the directions get a little… wonky.” Her voice is so smooth and sweet. I've never been talked to like this. “So,” She points to the right side of the hall. “This is the door to the living quarters you will be in.” She says. “It’s not locked- the doors are motion sensor activated so you just have to walk up to it and it will let you in. IF you go straight to the end of the hall, those are Reed and my quarters. To the left is Ben’s- he’s uh ... not the most gentle of guys,” She says. “Sweet as anything just… kinda rough around the edges? It’s best that you not go in his quarters without his permission.”

Right.
So there are two other men.

One of whom I am the property of and one who apparently won't like me.

“So… if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll go grab Johnny. He would have been to see you sooner but he had to get a quick shower.” She smiles as she moves into the room that she said I would be inhabiting.

I stand awkwardly in the door- my arms crossed.
I'm uneasy.
Between the rampant kindness and the fact that I’ve just had to sit through a history lesson of an abridged version of what I know about my own people- my own race.
My… own family….
I just don’t think I’m feeling very well.

I look back towards the living room. I can still hear the TV.

What if Johnny… doesn’t want me?
What if I can’t do what they think I can?
What if they end up just… hurting me?

What if I fail?
These people seem.. nice. If I fail, I don’t want one of them to die!

I have this insane anxiety clawing at my heart- and in this moment- this exact moment of almost insanity - I know why slaves run.
My eyes are drawn to a window off to the side of the hall.
Or jump.

I’ve been beaten. Raped. Thrown to the worst men you could imagine.
But it was understandable.

This?

These people…
They have kids- kids.
I don’t need to be around kids!

They should be kept as far away from me as possible! I don’t want them to think this life is something worth … living.
I’m very protective of younger children because they often can’t protect themselves.

There is something .. I don’t know. ..Unsettling about the idea of others having to go through what I went through.
I mean I know they’re human and won’t.
But… I still think they don’t need to be around me. I’m too dirty to be around innocents.

It's so fucked that I would rather be sold time and time again to men who do nothing but hurt and demean me... then have a genuinely nice group of people be decent towards me.

I'm not worthy of this.
I will never be.
They don't need me.
They need someone better than me.
IF anything, I'd imagine they'd do well with one of Phoenix's kids.
Higher class. Better standing.
Probably a lot less... damaged.
I'm not meant for this home. It's a major misplacement.

But .. they're so happy to have me.

God- I don't know what happens when you're sold from your final placement.
Surely it happens.

But... what a failure would do to my resale value... to my worth. It would be too big of a hit.
There’s complete silence for a moment before some mild anger-filled voices.

I flinch- hearing just how angry the man inside the doors is.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” He yells. “I SAID NO! I’M GOING TO FIGURE IT OUT!”

“Johnny, please.” Mrs. Sue says, “Just hear me out-”

“I cannot believe you!” He thunders. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS???”

“We didn’t have a choice-”

“Oh, yea- you have a choice,” Johnny growls- much more quietly. “Send him back.”

Fuck. He doesn't want me.
I can hear it. Literally. He doesn't want me.

“That’s not how this works-”

“Then.. give him to someone else. I told you I had this covered!”

“We can’t just give him away.” Mrs. Sue growls. “Do you know how much Reed spent on him?”

I squeeze my right arm- keeping them crossed.

I'm alone in a house of people who are too good for me.

I need pain. I'm not worthy. I need to pay the price for my failure.
I need a bathroom and a pair of scissors.
Self-harm is something that was not technically encouraged... but it was something the keepers were guilty of enabling.
Who cares if your kids are cutting themselves up?
As long as they don't do face/breasts- it doesn't matter.

“Oh wah! Reed WASTED money on something I told HIM I DIDN’T WANT! WHAT A BIG FUCKING CRISIS- HUH????”

“Johnny!” Mrs. Sue gasps.

I hold myself and try to fight off the feeling of weakness and dread.
Tonight isn't going to go well. I can feel it.

“Let me guess let me guess,” Johnny yells. “He’s….. all dolled up… ready to wait on me hand and foot- huh? Ready for me to rape him over and over again because that’s just what those FUCKWADS in congress expect for me to do! OH wait- I have an idea- Why don’t the two of us skip dinner and I can just go fuck him on the steps in front of City Hall so EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER KNOWS JUST HOW MUCH I SUPPORT THE FUCKING GOVERNMENT??????”

“ENOUGH!” Mrs. Sue cries- loudly. “YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT WE HAVE DONE TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN. I AM PROTECTING YOUR UNGRATEFUL PETTY ASS IF IT KILLS ME!”

There’s a quieter, “This was always the plan, wasn’t it?” Spit at her.

“Johnny, Listen,” Mrs. Sue says, much gentler than before. “This is what it is. It’s what the law says. You may hate it- we all do- but you can’t go against it. We've already gone through all of the steps and he’s already here.” I hear him try to interject only to be cut off with, “This is what has to be done. He’s doing what he’s been bred to do… and you’re going to have to suck it up and drive on. Plus he’s already nervous as hell. This is completely new for him and you need to be a decent person and make sure he is okay. So go out there and welcome him into your home. You are the one who has to be…” she clears her throat. "in charge."

“I don’t want to own another person.” Johnny hisses. "It's not right! And I’ve been fucking saying it since I was 15! I am completely against it! I don't care if they launch me into the fucking sun in retaliation! I thought we all agreed that it was fucked up! I thought we agreed to not be like THEM. EVER. PERIOD.”

“Johnny- we don’t have another choice. I’m sorry- we’ve tried everything.” She says lowly. "Look- you can give him a better life than what he's had- right? Don't you want to help him? It's not like he's not getting anything out of this- right?

There’s some creative cursing coming from him.

"Why the hell would you and Reed do this???” He cries- much more distraught. “You’ve ruined my life!”

“RUINED your LIFE???” Mrs. Sue repeats- hotly.

“YEA,” Johnny replies just as angrily. “Because now I own a person. I didn’t even want a DOG and now I own a PERSON. WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK WOULD YOU DO THIS??????????”

"Because I can't see you die, okay!!!! It would kill me! It is not just YOU who is going to be affected by this- do you understand?"Mrs. Sue yells- passionately. This sounds like an argument they’ve had before.

"You willingly went and searched for and then PURCHASED another person!" He yells back.
"And you're not the ones who are going to have to deal with him!"

Oh no.
He already sees me as... less than desirable.
A burden.
Something that has to put up with.

My grip on my arm becomes tighter. My nails are always kept short and mannerly- I dig them into my flesh hoping the inflict some kind of pain.

“DID you be sure to get the best deal, Sue? Hmm? Was there a coupon you could use? Oh- do the SLAVE TRADER’s take credit cards? Or did you get him on a payment plan? What exactly goes into the process of BUYING ANOTHER LIVING PERSON???!??”

“Please just-”

“Were you sure to check out what his functions were? Hmm? Ya know- it’s important when you’re RAPING someone to know if they suck dick well.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE CRUDE!” Mrs. Sue snaps.

“Apparently I DO!” he yells. “Because you don’t seem to be UNDERSTANDING WHY I DO NOT WANT HIM!!!!”

I have to bite my knuckles- keeping myself silent.

I suck dick really well. I can do that for him.

"I know," Sue says, voice pained, an actual sob coming from her. “I GET HOW FUCKED IT IS.” She chokes on her words. “I swore I would never do what those bastards did- I Swore! I swore I would protect the people who couldn’t help themselves- and I understand- I UNDERSTAND that I have had to go against EVERYTHING I believe in…. Do you not comprehend how hard this is on me??? Knowing that we brought this innocent person into this KNOWING what was going to happen to him??? I get it!” She sniffles a little. “But I can’t lose you- Johnny. I can’t. I know how selfish this was. I know how it’s not what you want. But please. I couldn’t watch you go millions of miles away knowing I would never see you again. I’ve lost Mom and Dad and we’ve been through hell with getting our powers ... and I’m worried I’m going to lose my CHILD to these fuckers…. I just...Please, Johnny- I need you here now. Please. You can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”

I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping and that anything I hear is on me.
But... once again... I find myself something to be used for the betterment of others.

It's not like I didn't comprehend that Johnny was only 'staying alive' by my cooperation. But... I thought he would at least... want me.
Just a little.

I thought today would go so much differently and I'm shaken to my very core.

I just want to start the entire day over, go into the bathroom and find the blade I know Jimmy keeps in there for when things are bad. I want to gut myself so badly that I die instantly and never have to go through this ever again.

Johnny says something quietly that I can't hear.

“Please,” Mrs. Sue sobs.

“Sue…” Johnny soothes. “Look… I’m not going to be sent away, okay? I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.” He pauses. “And they’re not going to take Franklin, okay? Reed’s tested him. He doesn’t set off any sensors. IF Reed’s tests can’t detect the x-gene- he doesn’t have it, okay? He’s just… a cosmic space baby. They don’t take cosmic space babies.” Johnny sighs. “I know this what we have to do.” He says finally. “I’m not stupid. And thank you and Reed for helping me like this. Just...let me feel salty for a bit- okay?”

Mrs. Sue laughs, loudly blowing her nose.

"This doesn't make you like them," she said gently. "And if there was another way... you know Reed would have found it by now. Please. For me. You're just doing what is required of you. Like he's doing what is required of him. You can give him a much easier life. And having met him... I think he deserves that."

"Fine," Johnny says. “For you... I’ll suck it up and drive on.”

"Yea?"

"Yea.

“No fornication in front of the city hall?”

He sighs dramatically.“Fine. No fornication in front of City hall. BUT just because it’s cold outside and I don’t want him to get frostbite."He laughs a little after this before asking, kind of sheepishly. "Is he at least cute?"

"Oh very," Mrs. Sue says quickly. "Um, I think Reed said he was... half Japanese? Very handsome. Really almost more pretty than handsome." She's trying to upsell me. "Now, he's young." She says. "He just turned 18 this morning. So... yeah. Maybe a little more.... innocent than you'd think he is?" She stops. "I mean- I think he gets overwhelmed easily. He seems very... perturbed. So ... be gentle with him... I don’t think he knows much about … modern life? He wasn’t educated like humans."

"He's only 18??" Johnny asks-seemingly thrown.

"Yes," Mrs. Sue says. "When they turn 18, they age out of their... old homes and are sent to new ones. You are his.... owner. And he will do what you tell him to do. So.... watch how you phrase things. Okay? He seems really nice and we want him to feel at home. So...watch the temper."

"Right, right." He says.

"Um... so.... you can get with Reed a little later to get all of his paperwork."

"paperwork?" Johnny asks.

"Yea," Mrs. Sue says. "His papers. They're already filed with the local police department.. ya know. Says he lives here and that you're the one who.." she swallows and says quietly "owns him."

I hear the man sigh. "God. Fuck it all. I should have eloped. You know that?"

Mrs. Sue actually laughs. "With who??"

"Carrie. That girl I meet in Jamaica- ya know, when I was 17?"

Mrs. Sue sighs. "Yeah well... you didn't. And here we are. That doesn't mean you can take your frustration out on him- do you understand? He's been roughed up pretty regularly for a very long time. We don't want him to be... frightened around us. "

My nails have left deep rings in my skin.
I'm torn.... he doesn't want me. But she's specifically telling him not to harm me.
And… he sounded really upset.

"I get it." Johnny says. "he didn't ask to be in this any more than I did. I'm not gonna be a brat and beat on him because I'm not getting my way."

"You're a real trooper," Mrs. Sue says, I hear her lightly kiss his cheek. Not sexually, of course. Just something an older sibling would do. “Go out there, welcome him home. Bring him to your room and-”

“God Sue.” The man says- clearly uneasy.

Disgusted really.
I am disgusting to him and he hasn't even met me.
I try to choke back the sadness that I feel radiating from every nerve in my body.
I've never felt this intensely before.

“Get him settled in,” Mrs. Sue says, pointedly. "don't cut me off, you don't know what I'm trying to say."

“Oh- I know what you're trying to say alright." He hisses. "You do know what they mean by ‘settled in’ don’t you??”

Mrs. Sue sighs. “Yea- I know.”

“And you know what I'm expected to do?”

“Look- we can misfile the report for a few weeks- okay?” Mrs. Sue says gently.”Until he’s… ready.”

"Meaning???" Johnny presses.

"Meaning that we can... fudge the truth a little- right? Yea- there are some laws you have to follow… but it doesn't have to be violent. Maybe you and he can… work out a system that makes sure it doesn’t hurt when you eventually do what.. you have to do.”

Johnny sighs. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Good,” Mrs. Sue says. “Get yourself together. Don't sulk. He's been purchased just for you. Act happy to see him.”

I know they don’t know that I’ve heard them… but I do not know what to expect when the door opens. My world is spinning so fast.
This isn't what it's supposed to be.
I don't understand.... he's not going to hurt me... but he is? I'm pretty but... not wanted?

I feel stupid standing here.
Dressed like I'm supposed to be pleasing for a man who obviously does not want me here.

Mrs. Sue is first out, smiling. “Sorry about the wait.” She says looking me over quickly, her smile dimming. "Are you okay?" She asks, concerned.

I nod.
I am a master at hiding feelings.
I push it all down- it's not something that needs to be dragged into the light and made into something they can punish me for.

“Are you sure?" She steps closer. "Oh no! What happened to your arm?"

I look down at the deep red gashes left behind.

I glance up at her and oddly feel my eyes start to water.

"Did you do that?" She asks quietly. “did you hurt yourself?”

I lower my head.

Mrs. Sue looks worried but nods, understanding. "Your hearing must be pretty good... huh?"

I see the look of understanding set in her features.

I just nod slightly.

"I'm... sorry." She whispers. "He can be a bit of a brat sometimes." She takes my hand and squeezes it gently before motioning to the doorway. “We don’t want to hurt you- I promise.”

There’s the sound of Johny clearing his throat.

"This is my brother, Johnny." Mrs Sue says, very gently. "And he will be... your... person." she lets go of my hand and turns to her brother- who stands behind her- a few inches taller. Same fair skin.

A very athletic build.
He looks...
Well...
He’s … beautiful.

Very different from the men who usually use me.

He's got this 'boyish' look to him- even though he's older. He looks kind of like what I always imagined a model to look like.

Blonde tousled hair that's done in that 'I didn't try hard but did' kind of look.

He's not wet or recently showered, though. I can tell. So.. he wasn't in a shower. He was avoiding me.

Standing in front of him, I feel small and insignificant.

I can understand why his family wants to keep him around.
He sounds like a decent man from what I heard.

He just… doesn't like me.

I find it hard to look him in the eye- knowing how much he just doesn't want me here.

He smiles- seemingly caught up in his thoughts looking at me.

I know it's fake.

He doesn't want me.

I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him... and he doesn't want me.

My world is shattered. I am so not meant for this house.

“Hi.” He says, less awkwardly than the rest of his family- but… still awkward. However, his more in a… ‘cute’ way.

We stand awkwardly in front of each other.

I feel so much and can't say a single word.

“He um.. isn’t allowed to talk.” Sue whispers. “You’re gonna have to initiate the conversation and kinda… just tell him what to do.”

“Greeeeaaaaaat.” Johnny groans- mood instantly flipping back to sullen- maybe a tad angry? “A mute sex slave who people are going to think I’m routinely raping. This is just such an honorable persona for me to take on! I’m so excited that every romantic partner I have will ever have come home with me will see that I own an actual living breathing person and assume that I’m some classist, evil, perverted rapist. Look at him! He’s already shaking!”

I'm not hiding this as well as I should be.
This is my fault.
I try to center myself.
Okay- I got it.
I keep my eyes lowered- forcing myself to be still.

“Johnny.” Mrs. Sue hisses, quite harshly “He can’t talk but he knows what you’re saying.” She says pointedly. “He understands English perfectly.”

“Fuck.” Johnny looks completely embarrassed. “I’m so sorry uh..." He turns back to Mrs. Sue. " ...what's his name?” He hisses.

“He wasn’t given one,” Mrs. Sue says quietly.

“Wow. That just makes this sooo much easier.” Johnny says sarcastically.

“You could give him a nickname.” Mrs. Sue offers.

“Well duh. That’s a given.” He retorts. “We can’t just not address him.”

They’re going to try to name me?
That’s going to be a new experience.

“So…..?”

“I can’t give him one off the top of my head.” He hisses. “I don’t know anything about him!”

“Well…” Mrs. Sue motions to the room behind him. “Why don’t you take him to your room and get him settled in… and work on that?” 

Johnny stiffly offers me his hand. “I can show you my” Mrs. Sue jabs him with her elbow “I mean, our... room if you want.” He says- not too warmly “No pressure.”

Mrs. Sue looks at him with a 'try harder' look.

He sighs. "I would be happy to take you to our room." He says- trying to sound warmer.

I know I have to get this over with sooner rather than later.
Him fucking me isn’t going to help any of the awkwardness… but I will at least have a way to show him how valuable I am.

I can make him want me.

I can do whatever he wants.

I take his hand and let him lead into the living quarters. It’s very bright- there is a small lounge area with a TV and a desktop on the side of the wall in a large open space and on the right-hand side of the hallway that the original door opens up to, is what I'm assuming is his bedroom.

He said 'our' room. But... I can tell that he doesn't like that idea.
He opens the door and lets go of my hand.

“Here’s the room.” He says. “I guess uh... Sue cleaned it up. I didn’t know you were… coming today.” I like that he’s trying to be gentle with me. “You can put your stuff over here…” He walks to a cleared out wardrobe- not a closet- but a small chest like thing. “Assuming you have stuff.” He says. “There’s a bathroom over there.” He points to the darkened door. “um, shower, toilet, sink, mirror- all that stuff.” He moves around. “Tv- right here. I like to watch sports and stuff in bed. So… uh.. sorry if that keeps you up. I can get you like… a pair of headphones?” He says awkwardly. “Also you can like… have your own profiles on My Hulu and Netflix- if you want, I guess. IT won’t cost any extra so… ya know, it’s whatever... You can decide what you want to watch and all that.” He motions to the large windows that almost take up his entire wall. “Um, skyline. Cityscape stuff. Uh, there’s a balcony but that’s mainly so I can take off easily. Easier to fly through the city when I can start from a highpoint.” He laughs awkwardly.

He spins around- as if looking for something to introduce me to.

“Posters…” He points to the other walls- some movie posters for a zombie movie I’ve never heard of. “I can take those down… if you don't like them. They’ve been up since I was like … 15. I don’t even really like those movies anymore.” He laughs a little. “I think it was more for the ladies.. tits? Guess you could call me a boob guy.”

I almost laugh- but stop myself.

Johnny curses under his breath. “Sorry… I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about being attracted to other people around you? Like I know we’re not a thing,” he makes a weird motion with his hands “thing- ya know? But like… I don’t know. I guess it’s… whatever.” He exhales, looking around the room again.

 He’s dressed in a pair of blue shorts and a white tank top- very sporty.
His room seems to be just the various shades of blue.
Perhaps a favorite color?

“So like….. you’ll bring your stuff in here… uh… profiles on streaming sites- covered that.” He seems to be running over some sort of checklist. “Um… oh,” He walks to the side of the room- to a thermostat “Okay- this is actually really important.” He says. “So, I’m meta- like Sue and Reed? And my powers are energy-related? Pyrokinetic- stuff like that. So um, I don’t get hot and I don’t get cold-but you definitely will. So I honestly do not have a clue about the actual temp the room gets to. But some of my past dates have said it can get pretty muggy? So yea. Feel free to put on whatever you like. I swear, it won’t bother me.”

He’s gone over every item in this room… other than the bed.

Moving around he backs into it- looking at and then quickly looking away. Looking anywhere but at me.

“Um, yea.” He motions to it vaguely. “Bed. It’s a King. If you don't like the mattress we can get a new- no problem. I can see that Sue put some blankets down… so thank you, sis.” He says awkwardly. “ I don’t usually uh, sleep with them again- don’t get cold so… they’re new. And you can add as many blankets or pillows as you want. Ya know... you can get comfy.” He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling. “Um… we’re supposed to… ya know.” His eyes slide back to it. “BUT we don’t have to... right away? ” He says quickly. “Sue says we can just share the bed and…. tell people we … sealed the deal.. until we know each other a little better?” He says with a wince. “That being said like… I still have… dates. Boyfriends and girlfriends. I’ll be sleeping with them… and I want to be honest with you about it. I won’t bring them here…. unless pressed. And I will not let them sleep in the bed… since ya know- it’s your bed too and I won’t kick you from it.”

I carefully sit on the bed- the comforter is blue and fuzzy. The texture is.. soothing.

I take off my shoes- tucking them under the side of the bed.

I catch him watching me- really carefully.

“Um,” He quickly looks away when he sees me looking back. “You uh… you’re very attractive.” He says, still not looking at me. “And uh… I .. I’m..” He exhales slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He says. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do. I don’t want to hit you….”

I can’t take what he’s saying as fact.
A lot of people try to start their games like this.
They want my shields lowered.

He turns to me- moving closer- standing at the foot of the bed.

I’ve seen this cue fifty million times over. I slowly go to him- kneeling on the floor.

It was a game.
He’s going to be like every other man who's used me.

Just.. prettier.

His eyes are wide. Really wide. I look up at him- knowing how men like to be looked at from this position.

Maybe he’ll have a normal-sized dick.
One that won’t hurt too much?

I stay on my knees- waiting patiently.

He reaches out- slowly- shyly. Touching my skin. “Is your face really that pale… or are you wearing makeup?” He asks. "You look... otherworldly." he seems… distracted?

Normally by this point, my clients have taken their dicks out.

His body seems… hotter than average- so… showing signs of arousal but.. not.
It’s clear that he’s the kind of guy who likes to be completely serviced. As in, undressed, sucked off, and anything else he wants.

Clearly.

I stall for about thirty more seconds before assuring myself that full service is indeed what he is waiting for. Keeping eye contact with him, I reach my hand up- going for his fly. He quickly bats my hand away- forcefully. “WOAH.” He backs up immediately- like I’ve burnt him. “Oh god- is that… okay- you… Look.” He moves his hands in front of him- in an ‘x’ like motion. “EASY.”

I move back to him- confused.

Maybe he wants to just… get straight to fucking?

I try to give off the proper body posture to let him know it’s okay to take the lead.

Opening my legs a little- staying low to the ground.

He moves away- turning quickly on his heel before I can reach out to him again.

“Look okay…. I … can’t… do that to you. Right now.” He says- awkwardly. “Because you’re scared and you’re upset… and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. You’re very attractive and I can tell that you’re… just trying to do what you think you’re supposed to. But- we’re going to have to do things a little differently.”

Differently?
He wants a different position.
I move closer still- but he stops me.

“Okay- you are not… getting this.”

He takes me by the shoulders- raising me to my feet- and makes me sit on the bed.

RIght on the edge.

Okay- yes. I understand this order as well.
I knew it. Different position.

He's not into foreplay.

A lot of men aren’t.

I don’t see any lube in the immediate area so I silently hope to all that is holy that he’s not too big.

He’s still holding my shoulders- looking panicked.

I start to recline- quickly as I think he’s less panicked and more aroused?

A client coming before any interaction is had is… never good.

My sudden movement causes him to fall face first- crashing into me and pinning me to the bed.

His face is mere inches from mine and his knee is between my legs.

My breath catches and I feel my eyes widen.

"WOAH." This is loud. A yell... and god- It scares me.

I try to spread my legs- thinking that's what he wants.

I don’t understand. I'm doing everything they told me to do.

"STOP." He yells- close to my face.

I freeze in panic.

I find myself recoiling- but we're tangled up. His hand is near my face- and I see it tense- I can’t read his expression anymore.

A slap or something is coming- and I know how to take a hit. I should not be surprised.
But.. the intensity of everything that’s happened today just… crashes into me at once.

He doesn’t want me.
I can’t please him.
If I can’t please him- he’ll turn violent.
they always do.

Today just... it's been too much.
Too different. Too stressful.

When I see his hand moving I panic.

"Please!" I can’t help the cry that escapes my throat as I reach out to ward off the blow I'm sure that's coming- I end up knocking into him.

"OW!" He cries loudly- drawing back in pain.

Oh fuck.

I just punched him in the face.

I punched… my owner… in the face.
While I yelled at him.

I’m immediately a nervous wreck, clamping my hand over my mouth.

I haven’t spoken in.. god. Months.

And I Punched him. However accidentally- I hit him. I hit him while denying him something.

My mind is filled with this panic. I can't calm myself down.
I start hyperventilating.

They don't need me.
I'm not the right fit for them.
I broke five major rules during our very first encounter.

That's death.
That's what that is.
That is death regardless of status, pedigree, bloodline- it doesn't matter. I am dead. He is going to kill me.

My whole body is shaking- I can't think of anything other than what he's going to do to me.
He moves unsteadily- still hovering over me and clutching his face.
“Uh.. please don’t stop breathing.” He says as He tries to make me look at him- but I start to struggle- which is another ‘no-no’.

God- I’m going to be so beyond killed.

I'm dead. I'm going to die. He is going to kill me.

I find myself crying- which is again audible. Which makes it worse.

Soon I’m trapped in a horrible cycle of me accidentally breaking rules that have been beaten into me my entire life, then sobbing because I broke them- which means I'm breaking them again- which means I’m more upset- which means - and so on.

The man on top of me looks terrified.

I shake my head over and over again- I’m trying to apologize without speaking to him.

"Shhh." He soothes. "Oh don't cry. Please don't cry. Just… uh… deep breath- okay? Can you take a deep breath for me? "

My chest is rising and falling rapidly.

Nothing in my past 18 years of experience has prepared me for this.

I cover my face- trying to look away and put myself right- I lay completely still. Usually, they just snap your neck in these instances.

"Passion' injuries are more common than you'd think.

But at my age- I should know better.
And this wasn’t a ‘tap’. It was a punch.

The sound of my noises that are slipping from me is... surprising. I know what I sound like... in my head. But... I'm not verbal unless pressed.

"I'm sorry," I whisper- barely able to breathe.

He looks at me with an expression I don't know.

"I'm sorry," I repeat- not in control of anything now.

“Hey-” He straightens up, leaning over me. “Hey, hey, hey.” He soothes over and over again.
“You’re okay. okay? You’re okay.” I can’t look him in the eyes. “Shh. shh.” He soothes. “It’s okay… it’s okay… look at me.” He takes a more domineering pose and I feel like coming apart. I do not know what is happening. I’ve not freaked out.. in forever. “Shh.” He reaches out and strokes my face. “easy now. It was an accident- I get that. Okay? I get it. It was an accident. You didn't leave a mark- see?”

"no-no-no."

My mind is a blur of panic.

"Shh shh." He soothes. "it's okay... I promise. I promise you- it's okay. Breathe- okay? You’ve got to calm down and breathe. Nothing gets solved if you die of asphyxiation. Okay?"

I'm trying to weakly attempt to piece together what happened- where exactly we took this horrible left turn

I can’t get my breathing stabilized.

My mind is replaying the incident from every angle.

Johnny removes himself from the bed and I know- I just KNOW I’ve fucked up.

First night.
What the fuck was I thinking???

I close my eyes and try to calm down enough to accept whatever is coming. You don’t get to be upset when you brought it upon yourself.
Tears are on my cheeks and I can't stop them.

I miss my home.
I miss my people.
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to be with him.
I don't... I don't want to die.
I didn't get a chance to even experience things outside of my stable.
I haven't even been on the outside.
I didn't get to enjoy traveling to this city because I was unconscious.
I wasn't allowed to say goodbye to anyone... I didn't get to ask my brother- the one person who is blood to me- the things I needed.
I found out that my father is alive and knows about me but doesn't want to save me.
No... one wants to save me.

These people are being nice because they have to. They're worried I won't save Johnny.
My being executed will be a shock... but not unexpected.

Everything is ending before it even began.

I'll never see any of the people I knew before... and I haven't had a chance to find anyone to speak to... other than my owner... who I disobeyed, hit, and then continued to speak to.
I don't think I've been this upset... physically in years.

God- I'm supposed to be showing him my worth.
All I'm showing is how defective and untrained I am.

I keep my eyes closed. Maybe it's best just... not to see what he's going to do? Maybe that will be easier.

My breathing gets a little more steady but nothing is stopping these fucking desperate sobs escaping my mouth.

I hear him moving around- in the bathroom, it sounds like. Digging through cabinets.
The fear continues to mount as his footsteps get closer to the bed.

"Here we go..." he says- quietly. Gently. "Hold still." The cloth of my shirt is raised- bunching at my neck. He gently presses on my chest- rubbing it in an oddly calming motion. “Breathe.” He says gently. “Okay…? Deep breath in?” He inhales deeply and lets it go. “And deep breath out.” He keeps rubbing my chest- even as I manage to get to an acceptable level of oxygen intake.

“Oh look at you.” He says gently. I flinch when he touches my cheek. "easy now." I feel something wet and cold on my face. I open my eyes to see him leaning over me, holding a small blue package of makeup removing pads. "hey." He soothes. "Look at me." I follow his instruction- hoping to do some damage control. "look at me." He repeats. He pulls out some rolled up toilet paper. “blow your nose- okay?” He hands it to me and I do as instructed- setting the toilet paper on the bed when I’m done.

"Okay, so I know what they told you would happen if you broke 'rules' or whatever the fuck. But it's okay- okay? Accidents happen. I'm not going to go crazy on you for being upset." He pauses, scrubbing some of the makeup off for a minute. "I mean, let's be honest, okay? Just between you and me right now? You have the most reason to be upset by all of this. You didn't have a choice, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're here. I'm sorry for where you've been." He rubs some tears from my cheek with his free hand. "But look at me- okay? You're saving my life. I can never repay you for your sacrifice. But... I can try to make your life easier in return? I am not going to hurt you- okay? I'm not going to punish you for something this stupid. You don't have to worry. It's not a big deal. I've been hit harder by Val." He laughs a little. "See? I'm okay. We're okay. okay? So don't cry- it's okay." He smirks a little. "I was trying to help you dry your face... but only had makeup removers... so... .sorry. I know this looks like it took time..." He hums a little to himself. "Did you do it yourself?"

I shake my head.

"Yea? They kinda dressed you up- huh?

I feel weak and tired- but his words are calming. I nod.

“Shh,” He soothes. “It's all good.” I calm down slowly as he gently scrubs off the painstaking work that was done this morning. He gets to my eyes and pauses. “Wow.”

I wait for his remark- breath caught in my throat.

“You have beautiful eyes.” He says- going back to washing the makeup off- very gently. “There we go.” He soothes. “Now nothing will run into your eyes.” He says. “Sue used to complain that her eye makeup hurt when it ran into her eyes.” He smiles. “You okay?”

I nod- still somewhat confused.

“Good.” He says. “I know that today must have been super scary… and super awkward.” He says, smiling a little. “So, please understand that this isn’t an order or a command just… a suggestion? Maybe you should... get some sleep? I think maybe today was a little more… emotional than you thought it would be? And that it’s probably not ending like everyone told you it would.” He smiles a little coyly. “But… if you just want to go to sleep and tell everyone that it went down however the hell it was supposed to…. I won’t say anything.” At my expression, he smiles a little more widely. “Maybe just add in how my dick is huge and I’m a god amongst mortals?”

That makes me smile- unexpectedly.

“There we go.” He says. “A smile. You can stay in here if you want- okay? I’ll be out in the lounge. If you need anything just… come get me.” He pauses. "I'm sorry. For what you heard through the door... really. This... isn't your fault. None of it is your fault."

I watch him- unsure of how to react.

"So, rest up, okay? You look like you've been through hell. You deserve to get a little shuteye.”

I nod.

“Cool,” Johnny says. “Cool.” He stands up and goes to the door, smiling. "No more crying, okay?" He says- almost in a flirtatious way "You're too pretty to be that sad."

IS it possible that this man is… actually as ‘good’ as he seems to be?
How long has it been since I was around genuinely good, kind, people?
Is this a ruse?
Is some awful experience waiting just around the corner to strike down all of these ‘maybe’ good feelings?

I roll over onto my side- looking out the large windows. The pillows at the head of the bed consist of two older ones and two news ones. Guess those are mine?

I lay my head on them- so strange that I was jealous of this feeling this morning.
And I understand why I was. This is… so comfortable.
the bed- the blankets- the pillows.
The room is dark and cool.

18 years of being whatever I was told to be- being used however they wanted me to be used- sold, traded, bartered, beaten starved, raped- all of that ... and I’m undone by a single man’s refusal to sleep with or punish me.

God- what is wrong with me?

This can’t end well.
This won’t end well.

But…. God, I want it to.

Chapter Text

When I was little- about five or six- one of the women who was brought into our stable from another stable was pregnant already. This was notable because she was already over 18. 19 I think?  Maybe even 20.

She was expected to give birth to twins.

Little boys- they said.

The twins were the ones who were going to stay- not her. They just needed to house her until she gave birth and they were able to take them from her. She was the oddest thing I had ever seen.
A mutant-like us.... but ... an adult.

She didn’t fall into line like the rest of us because she was too old and they had to give her her own space for various reasons pertaining to her age.

She was also one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen at that point in my life.

I remember her holding me one night after a John had gotten me sick.
Of course, the illness ran right through me and as gone in a day ... but that woman could not stand to hear me cry on my own. She begged the keepers to let her into our (the boy’s) room and that she would put me to sleep as quickly as possible.

She had the largest blue eyes- cold as ice but gentle as ever when she was talking to us. To… me.

She had long red hair, it smelled like peaches. I remember.
She held me close and I could feel the unborn boys move. It was odd.
She was a mother- soon to be, at any rate. And she was the only ‘mother’ whoever held me.

I guess since that night all those years ago when I've thought about mothers... I've pictured her? 

She had no name but... she was there. She was solid. She was a person who actually cared about other people. 
Like I sorta imagine all mothers just naturally... do. 

However, she didn't even get to be a mother, as far as I know. Her babies died before they were even born and she was sent away- shamed for not being able to do something as simple as reproduce. I never heard from or saw her again.

She wasn't the only pregnant woman I ever saw- just... the oldest. A girl would get pregnant once every year or so in the Stable. 
If the infant was likely to be a mutant- she was usually allowed to stay- sometimes even after she'd delivered the baby. 
The would keep her and her infant in the same stable but on completely different ends... seeing as we aren't supposed to be raised by our parents in any way shape or form. 

Teen mothers never lasted long in our line of work. 

It wasn't even the constant demand of Johns. 
They just went through this highly emotional nine-month period, suffered insane amounts of pain, and then just... removed from their infant's lives. 
Not even given a chance to name them.  If the birthing coach was kind they'd sometimes let the girls know if they had delivered a boy or a girl. 
Cases like the woman with the twins-where we knew the sex of the babies- were very rare. 

People don’t know how hard birth is on women.
Every time I’ve seen it it’s been sans medication- which I’m told human women are given on default and often have to ask to NOT be medicated for a 'full experience'.

There is blood. Screaming. Crying.
I’ve heard girls plead for death on their birthing beds.

It’s a pain I will never experience… yet one I have been subjected to the outcome of time and time again.

The idea that others- men and women out in the world- are trying to become pregnant ...that a woman is happily awaiting what all of those poor girls were suffering from… is confusing to me.

I say this as I watch the large colorful screen in front of me, seated beside Johnny in the lounge.

It’s a celebrity gossip show we're watching. They have entire television channels devoted to shows like this.
This is a thing. More so- this is a thing that Johnny likes.

And it is my job to make sure I know everything he likes/doesn't like. 

So...I've been observing and making a list. 

He likes movies.
He likes women and men- almost equally.
Loud music with lots of cursing.
He finds crude humor funny and likes to spend time texting his numerous friends and using various social media applications on his phone.
He is secretive with his text messages… and doesn’t know that I can't read them anyway- thus giving him nothing to worry about.

He likes to joke around a lot. 
He was having a video call with a woman in the bathroom... I believe they were mutually enjoying each other's private moments. 
So... he has been proven to have a sex drive. Just ... not one he intends to use me to fulfill. 

Mostly I get the idea that he prefers to spend a lot of time alone...in private. 

I did hear him talk about me to one of his male friends... and he described me as 'cute' but 'mute'. 
Cute little rhyme, I suppose. 

He let me sleep all through the night until six this morning- when he got up to do his morning workout. I got up unsure of what to do.
It was the first day I can remember where there wasn’t some form of a strict schedule.

Johnny told me I was free to go to the kitchen and get breakfast ... but it’s not time for me to eat yet. If I keep up with the schedule to which I am accustomed- it won’t be until… next Wednesday?
There is a lot of fasting involved in my diet.

He came back about two hours ago- after being gone easily for 4. I didn’t know morning workouts could be so long.

He took a shower- I waited outside by the door to see if he would need me- but he did not.
Then he used his laptop- looking at streaming videos made by other humans for human entertainment. Most of them were of men playing some sort of game- a video game ( at least- that's what he said it was). They were loud. Yelling into the camera at points.

 I would never outwardly express annoyance at my owner’s likes and interests- but I found the men highly agitating.

When Johnny put the laptop away, he moved into the lounge and turned the Tv on.
That’s when we started watching gossip.

Apparently, Johnny knows some of these ‘famous’ people.
He says he’s dated a few actresses ‘here and there’

I like the idea of men and women being able to work in acting.
The idea of getting paid to be a part of a different world that someone has made just for them…It just makes me happy.
The idea of getting to be someone else… if only just for a little bit.
It reminds me of the games we would try to play when I was very (VERY) young.
They always stopped us- we weren’t allowed to pretend. We had to face what we had to face.
Now there are humans out in the world who get paid a LOT of money (apparently) just to pretend.

The woman on the screen- a pale woman with makeup done expertly enough to hide any sign of aging- Johnny told me she was well into her 50’s but… she doesn’t look it- is talking about a starlet (that’s what they call female movie stars?) who is expecting triplets.

Multiple babies usually meant either you lost a baby.. or a mother.

 She doesn’t seem worried. She’s smiling, waving in pictures. Taking pregnancy photos with her naked stomach out.

It’s truly seen as something to celebrate.
Something that would be seen as a horrible ordeal in my world… is something that humans celebrate.

Johnny even commented on how happy he was for the woman and that he knew she and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for a while.
The woman who was discussing the starlet was also smiling. Saying she can’t wait until the parents released the name of the future infants.

Names.
Birth announcements.
General giddiness when it comes to the idea of procreation….

I’m just struck by how… different our worlds are.

I wonder if other mutants who’ve aged out have had this moment of just… oddness.
Everything is different.
There’s an entire world that we were not told about.

A woman being pregnant with multiple babies was a death sentence in one form or another in my world.

In Johnny’s?

It’s just a pretty picture.

A photoshoot to go in some photographer’s portfolio.
(those I do know about as we’ve had several pictures taken of us during my life)

 This woman won’t suffer like the girls I saw. She’ll receive health care and pain medications and be coached through her birth… probably a lot kinder than the girls I knew ... who were often mocked and slapped across the face for being too loud during literally the most painful moment of her life.

Johnny seems pretty at ease as he lets the TV go on and on from show to show. 
I find myself nervously awaiting his commands but trying to stay outwardly calm.

He lounges against the arm of the large white couch- a rectangular glass coffee table sits in front of him. He’s dressed in jeans today- still blue.
I took a brief look in his closet- he has a lot of ‘downtime’ looks.
I think maybe he has another closet for more formal clothing?

He leans forward toward the coffee table- reaching for his drink, a tall plastic water bottle. I quickly reach out and get it before him- untwisting the cap and handing it to him.

He takes it from me with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you….” He says, taking a sip.

I go back to my original position- the Tv show is ending- he told me they only last thirty minutes to an hour before a new one comes on.
I am wondering what will be next.

More gossip?
A drama?
Hopefully not the video game men who were screaming.

The Tv goes to a commercial- a restaurant commercial.
I didn’t know those were things, either.
Going to a specific place to eat- I mean, I knew humans had them but… not this well advertised? I suppose.

The food looks amazing. Meat I’ve never eaten. Bread.
Bright vegetables- it looks so appetizing!

I’ve eaten from my ‘approved’ list of foods my entire life.
Toast, gruel, bananas (older ones), raw celery, protein powder, scrub (which is hardened gruel that’s been sitting out), small pieces of really rough and hard to chew bread- stuff like that.

I haven’t had a lot of sugar. No cake, no chocolate, no candy.
I’ve had meat perhaps 10 times in the last 18 years.
And again- judging by this TV- these are normal things for humans.

The glaring difference between our worlds is just… mind-boggling.

My first day of watching TV has been quite enjoyable- however.

Though… I would like to watch at least one cartoon… and maybe less of humans droning on about things I do not understand.

He screws the cap back and puts the bottle on the table before picking up the small black remote and started to flip through the TV channels.

We sit in comfortable silence.

“Soooooo….” He glances over at me. “Do you…. do anything?”

‘do’ anything?

I nod. I do a lot of things.

“Yea? What do you do?” He asks.

I start to move closer to him- I guess my idea being that he probably wants head?
Most of the men I know when we spend early mornings together want head at some point.

He stops me- laughing a little. “For fun, I mean.” He says. “Not… work. Fun.”

I glance at him- truly unsure.
I guess… I’ve never had ‘hobbies’ before.

“Do you like to… read?” He asks, looking around the room and spotting a magazine.

I shake my head.

“Draw?”

Another shake.

“.....Cook? Sing? dance? Write? Listen to music? Watch TV? Play sports?”

I just look at him with a lost kind of stare.

“So… you don’t do anything… but sex... And sleep?” He says. “That’s all you do. That’s it. Sex.”

Well…

I nod- really unsure of what else he would possibly want me for.

He whistles in a comedic manner.  “Bet you’re tired by the end of the day- huh?”

Ah. A joke?

I watch him expectantly.

Johnny puts the remote down.

I guess I should start addressing him as ‘master’ but… I can’t bring myself to do that.
That on its own is a huge deal to me and I feel guilty.

It’s just… Johnny is about my age. And everyone else calls him ‘Johnny’.

“Do you like to go for walks?” he asks.

I watch him- not confirming or denying.

“Do you know how to say... words?” He asks. “Besides what you said last night- that is.”

I watch him closely before nodding.

“Do you… like to talk?” He says before picking up his phone. “text with... “ He stops. “Do you have friends? People you can call?”

I shake my head.

He seems to be looking for something to say. “Siblings?”

I lean back a little away from him, slightly hanging my head.
Siblings.
My sisters.
My brother.

Cutaway from me.

“You… do?” He tries to infer.

I nod.

“Can they.. come see you?”

I shake my head.

“Never?”

I let that one sit.

He nods and says quietly. “That must be awful.”

Yes.
It is.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before he very gently pats my shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna learn something new today.” He says, sounding happier than before. “Because I need to send out invitations to Sue’s big boring brunch party bullshit and there are a lot of them. So you’re going to help me address them.”

Oh god. No.
I can’t tell him that I don’t know how to read- let alone write.
My handwriting is terrible.

He stands up and offers his hand to me. “Come on.” He encourages. “I’ve put it off for as long as humanly possible. You help me out and… I’ll show you where I stash my cookies in the kitchen- cool?”

Cookies?

I can’t so ‘no’ so I take his hand- letting him lead me out of our quarters to the kitchen- which has an altogether different smell from yesterday.

“Franklin I am not telling you again!” I hear Mrs. Sue yelling. “Come get your lunch!” She then says. “I’m telling you, hun, he’s driving me up the wall.” She must be on her phone again. “Really!” This is said with a laugh.

Johnny takes my hand and leads me into the dining room- where a stack of paper envelopes sits.

He hits the lightswitch on the wall and points to the table. “Take a seat.”

I pull a chair out and carefully seat myself.

“Hey, sis?” I hear Johnny call. “Where’s your master address post list thingy?”

“Under the envelopes!” she responds. “Franklin Richards you come get your lunch right this instant!” She yells. “Ugh, Carol, you have no IDEA what I’m going through today.” She says into the phone.

Johnny comes back in- leaning over my shoulder to dig around in the envelopes. “It’s not here!” He calls.

I hear Mrs. Sue huff. “Yes- it is. I just saw it!”

“No, it’s not! I’m looking right at it!” He calls.

“Hold on a minute," Mrs. Sue says, putting the phone down. “Johnny I swear-” She stops in the doorway. “Well good morning!” she says- seeming shocked to see me as her tone has changed completely. “Did you sleep okay?”

I nod- trying to not look worried about the task in front of me.

“You’re still in-” She turns to Johnny. “Didn’t you give him clothes to change into?” She hisses.

“Uh..”

“Johnny- he needs to change clothing!” Mrs. Sue fusses. “You should have given him access to his clothes!”

“I did!” Johnny argues.

Mrs. Sue gestures to my outfit. “Oh, yea?”

Johnny looks sheepish. “Well... I uh… told him where he could put them… at least?”

“Did you even unpack them??”

“I uh... “ Johnny huffs. “look we had some complications… my bad. I’ll go get him dressed.”

I didn’t know this outfit was so… offensive to her.

I glance down at myself

.....it still hangs rather nicely. Tight enough.

Maybe it doesn't look pleasant without the makeup? My 'look' yesterday wasn't one I've really done before... maybe I should have reapplied it before leaving the bedroom?

“Go get him dressed.” Mrs. Sue says. “One, because he shouldn't have to wear the clothes he slept in out and about and two, because Jennifer is coming over and I don’t want-”

“Yea- got it.” Johnny cuts her off. “Appearances. Got it.” He rolls his eyes dramatically.

Mrs. Sue sighs. “Just go get him changed, please.” She turns to me. “I’m so sorry he didn’t think about your comfort.” She smiles sweetly. “Why don’t you go get changed- hmm?”

Johnny nods to the door. “Might as well.”

I stand up, bowing my head slightly to Mrs. Sue and follow him back to the room.

As we’re heading in ‘our’ door I hear “Yes, honey, I understand that it is cold now.” Mrs. Sue is probably talking to her son. “But I called you FOUR times!”

The door shuts behind us and Johnny leads me into the bedroom- going to the bathroom as soon as we enter.

I stand awkwardly- unsure of what to do.

“So these are yours!” He calls, coming out with a large black bag. He deposits it on the bed. At this moment, I'm just glad that he didn't make me wait for a long time. The awkwardness I felt is replaced in an instant.

There's work to do now. And its work I've done since I can remember. And in a way- it's finally something I'm familiar with.

I go to bed and unzip the bag- starting to sort through the various outfits.

Leather.
Denim.
More leather.
Short-sleeved tops.
Tank tops.

I pull the articles of clothing out- one by one, placing them neatly on the surface of the bed.

“Uh...no PJs?” Johnny asks, a little jokingly.

I run my hand over the various fabrics.

“Oh! there’s uh… also this.” He hands me a smaller black bag.

Standard makeup kits we have.
Nothing special.

I open it quickly to check that everything essential is there.
Yep. Looks good.
All the bottles are new, unused, and shiny.
No smudges from multiple people using it with various bare fingers- as makeup brushes are not always easy to come by in stables.

I place the makeup kit by the pillows.

Come to think of it- it doesn’t seem that brushes are something they thought to send.
That’s not ideal- but I can make do.

The clothing I have here doesn’t lend for a… ‘appropriate’ look for company.

The denim is tightly composed.
The shirts are too low-

I pull up a pair of black jeans- quickly matching it with a bright blue tank- Johnny likes blue.
Blue is something I should wear.

I start to pack the rest of the clothes back up.

“Got an outfit?” Johnny asks, pleasantly.

I nod, quickly starting to remove my shirt and pants.

“You uh… don’t want to do that in the bathroom?” He asks when I’m pulling off the leather pants.

I look at him curiously.

He… doesn’t like to see me naked?

This family is so… odd.

I shake my head- confused.

Johnny mumbles, “Okay…” And turns away from me, facing the door.

I pull on my new shirt and jeans- digging into the bottom of the bag and pulling out deodorant.

A small tube that they give everyone before clients. 

It's a smaller reminder of home and I feel oddly sentimental for a moment. 

Johnny looks back over his shoulder, making sure I'm decent, I suppose? “All dressed?” He waits a second before turning around. “Cool. You uh... you look great!”

Great?
I’m not done.

I take the makeup bag and go to the bathroom- silently. 

General looks I wear around take about.. ten minutes minimum to put on.

And since Johnny seems to be in a rush- I'll do so as quickly as possible. 

I look in the mirror- shocked at first by the new ‘look’.
Right. My hair.

I run my fingers over the saved side on the right.
God, it feels weird.

The makeup bag has a few hair ties in the bottom. I pull it up as much as it will go- granted that I’m now missing most of what I woke up with yesterday.

It looks… cute.

The eyeliner they sent me is… less than satisfactory. I don’t like using liquid when doing my own look.

I’m working on my eyes when Johnny nudges the door open. “Oh wow.” He says, his mouth hanging open for a second. “Really- wow.” He looks at me in amazement. “You look- I mean… wow.”

I put the makeup back in its case.

“So… um… “He coughs into his hand awkwardly. “Are you… ready.. now?”

I nod.

“Cool,” he says, trying to not so obviously look me over. “Really.. .really cool.” He says.

 I place the makeup bag in the cabinet underneath the sink as that’s where those kits go.

Johnny ushers me into the bedroom.
If I didn't know any better- I’d say he was looking at my ass. Quite secretively.

Like he doesn’t understand that I am his- any time of day.

We make our way back to the door- before he says, “Oh shit. Forgot my phone.” He pauses for a second. “Why don’t you head on out to the table- huh?”

I nod, watching him retreat to the bedroom.

I take a step forward- watching the doors open with a small ‘woosh’- amused.
Technology amuses me. I can’t help it.

I stand outside our living compartment- staring up at the top of the doors- trying to see the sensor. Figure out how it works.

I’m so preoccupied that I don’t notice when I’m joined by company.

“Never seen a door, kid?” This voice is deep- rumbly. It sounds like a… New York accent? I don’t know- I don’t tell all the various accents apart well.
I jump at the voice- and turn to the man- only to completely freeze.

I am aware that Johnny and his family are metahumans- I’ve gathered that each of them will have some sort of power- seemingly different power sets for each of them.

But this man…He is the most mutant looking metahuman that I’ve ever seen.

He’s large- big, sturdy, heavy… and his body is just… stone.
Orange stone.
The only part I can see that is not rocky are his eyes- which are very human look and his mouth.

Somehow he even though his face is made of stone, he’s able to have an amused expression.

He’s wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else… I’m guess clothing would be hard for him to find?

He reaches over my head and waves his hand under a small black screen at the top of the door- causing the doors to open.

“See? open. Close. Mystery solved- huh?”

I stare at him- still in shock.

He stares back. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh, Ben, there you are.” Mrs. Sue comes out of the living room and stops before him. “I need you to set up the crystal chandelier in the ballroom of the hotel.” She says. “We don’t need it up until Wednesday but ... we need it up. And Reed is, of course, taking off for Washington until Thursday so…I'm stuck with the kids... and planning... and god- you know. Everything.”

“Yea yea, Susie I got it.” ‘Ben’ nods to me. “What’s up with him?”

Mrs. Sue looks me over. “He is Johnny's new... guest.” She says- with an emphasis on ‘guest’.

“Guest” huh? Guess that's why he's so pretty.” Ben says in amusement.  “Does he speak?”

“Uh, no.” Mrs. Sue says- looking at her phone in her hands just as it starts vibrating. “He doesn’t. Don’t pick on him.” She nods to the two of us. “Hello?” She answers her phone, standing in front of us with her hands on her hips. “Yes, Ms. Parker I completely understand.” She mouths ‘thank you’ to Ben and moves back into the living room. “No, I think the caterers will have more than enough time.” 

Ben leaves without saying anything. Guess he doesn't like to talk much?

I glance up at the sensor he had identified. I clumsily reach up and set it off. The doors open and close- open and close.
It’s quite interesting.

While I’m playing with it, I hear a loud laugh from behind me. “You wanna stop that so I can get out?” I hear Johnny ask.

I jump- moving away from the door with my head lowered.

I was stupidly playing with the door when he was trying to exit- which means he’s probably just been standing there in annoyance waiting for me to stop acting like an idiot.

Johnny cheerfully pats my shoulder. “I get it.” He says, smiling. “Doors are fun.”

I weakly nod- feeling like he and everyone around me now assume I’m some sort of idiot.

Johnny and I walk back to the dining room- where there is now a lonnnnnnnnnng list of names and addresses, I assume.

I sit down nervously.

“Alright,” Johnny says, sorting through the envelopes and dividing them evenly between the two of us. “So how about… you take A-M… and I’ll take the rest, hmm?”

He passes me a pencil and sits down beside me, placing the master list in between us.

I can hear Mrs. Sue still talking on her phone and the TV in the living start playing some… sports broadcast- I assume?

Johnny starts quickly going through his envelopes- not paying attention.

I take a pencil and a blank envelope and stare at the master list for a long few moments.

Okay.
Easy.

One step at a time. 

A. First letter. First name. First address. 

I can do this. 

The first ‘a’ name is … decently long.

I copy it as best I can- but stall out when I get to the address.
Are some of these even letters???
What language is this???

Johnny glances over and stops midword.

“Uh ... that is… um… a very interesting way to write.” He says. “Very… creative. But… to save time,” He shows me the six envelopes he’s done already. “Why don’t you just write it… normal? okay?”

Fuck.

I nod and he goes back to his list.
I try to make the lines of my letters as straight as possible- neat and orderly.

Johnny says without looking at me or the mess in front of me, “I’ll be back in a second- okay? I’m gonna get a drink.” he moves into the kitchen.

I focus on my envelope- trying to write as best I can.
Even though I try to make the lines straight- they’re warped and wobbly.
I find myself getting insanely frustrated and try to make my hand still.

It’s no use.
What little grasp I do have literacy wise hasn't been used in YEARS.
I can’t write a simple sentence- let alone neatly.

Johnny comes back into the room about five minutes later- brightly colored cup in hand. “How’s it go-” He stops- mid-sentence. “Um….” he seems unsure of how to proceed. “I…” He stops again. “That-” he points at my envelope. “I mean... um..” He stumbles with his words. “Excuse me for a second.” He leaves again.

I pick up another blank envelope and try again.

While I’m focusing Johnny comes in and says cheerfully, “Can I see your envelope, please?”

I nod- passing it to him.

“Thanks. Be right back!”

His oddly cheerful tone worries me.
I hear some heated discussion in the kitchen- but can’t make it out.

Glancing over my shoulder I can see Johnny and Mrs. Sue arguing- but no sound making it past a very large- almost invisible dome they’ve created between them and me.
I guess that’s one of their powers?

Johnny is showing her the envelope and she does look... perplexed.

He finally turns to me- sees me looking- and puts a hand up to shush his sister.
The dome around them disappears and he comes back to the dining room.

“Um… I don’t want to offend you… at all.” He says, crouching down in front of me. “But… do you.. know how to… read?”

I look down more than embarrassed before shaking my head.

He nods. “Okay…. do you know how to write?”

I shake my head again.

Johnny nods again before taking the master list and putting it in front of me. “So you don’t know what this says.” He points to the second entry- the one below the one I was working on.

I just shake my head- not looking at him.

“They didn’t teach you how to read?” He asks gently.

I intently study the ground by his feet.

“They really didn’t.” He says- somewhat in shock. He looks behind him where Mrs. Sue is standing in the doorway. “Why wouldn’t they teach him how to read?” He asks her- sounding legitimately upset by this news.

Mrs. Sue shrugs. “I guess it wasn’t… necessary to his ‘purpose’.” She looks at me with such a look of pity. “Oh, you poor thing.” She says. “They had no right to-” She stops herself mid-sentence.

“Could Reed… teach him?” Johnny asks- which honestly shocks the fuck out of me.

“Of course.” Mrs. Sue says. “But… he might need some time to… make sure the lesson is in…. comprehensible?”

“That’ll take way too long.” Johnny shakes his head- standing up and pulling out an envelope. He quickly starts to scrawl out a large collection of letters. “Alphabet.” He explains- finishing them.

I know the alphabet ... or at least a- s. Those were the letter used at my stable to tell us where to go.

“A-z.” He says. “It’s always in this order.”

Ah. Yes. Understandable.

“So…..” He motions to the envelope. “If you learn the letters you can learn the sounds- learn the sound and BAM. You can read. Which will be really helpful- right?”

I nod.

“Okay so how about I finish a few of these addresses and you just… copy the letters I wrote up here hmm?” He says, passing me the envelope.

Mrs. Sue joins us at the table beside me- looking almost upset.
Not angry but… sad.
She looks sad.

Johnny goes back to addressing envelopes while I copy his letters.

“Mm, here hun,” Mrs. Sue stops me and takes the pencil out of my hand before taking said hand and putting it back- having me hold it differently. “This is how you hold it.”

Right.
My face is hot with embarrassment.

I’ve always wanted to be intelligent but.. god. This is just humiliating.

“Look here.” Mrs. Sue interrupts again. “It’s easier to make letters if you start at the top.” She points with a perfectly painted nail. “So, this is an ‘n’ right? So to make a big ‘n’ you would start at the top- see? Like this.”

I do not understand but I follow her instructions.

“Good!” She says, very happily.

I try to maintain a sense of respect for my two overseers but… I am very frustrated. And I get more so with every fucking letter.

I was asked to do a really simple thing… a thing a child could do… and I couldn’t do it.

Another mutant may have been able to…
But not me.
I don’t belong here!
I will never be what they wanted!

I’m not cut for this.
All I know pales in comparison to what I should know.
My eyes are treacherously stingy- holding back signs of my mental frustration but my hands begin to shake- which makes the writing worse.

I’m mad at myself.
I’m embarrassed.
I can’t do something SO insanely simple.

After about thirty minutes of this Johnny looks over at me and says, “We need to stop.”

Mrs. Sue looks at him in confusion. “Stop?”

“He’s embarrassed and frustrated,” Johnny says. “We need to stop. This is too much.”

How did he…

He stands to his feet and offers his hand to me. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go… do something else for a while- okay?”

I take his hand and stand on my feet.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders- leading me back to our room.

He walks me over to the couch in the lounge and puts me down on the cushions.

“So…” He says quietly. “They fucked you up- huh?”

I look at him in surprise.

I can't answer that to a human! Meta or otherwise! 
That's close to blasphemy where I was raised. 

“I had heard what the ...stables are like.” He says. “I have friends… well guys I know, who've gotten mutants from some of the lower ring ones. I know that they're supposed to be shitty… but I mean…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “They didn’t teach you simple things. They actively kept you from learning…. I mean- I hated school, don’t get me wrong.” He laughs awkwardly. “But... “ He stops- inhaling deeply. “That’s beside the point. the point is…. do you want us to teach you some basic stuff- reading, writing, stuff like that- or do you just… want us to leave the issue where it is?” He asks. “I don’t think you’ve been given the option to learn… but I also don’t want to force it on you. So, if you think you’d like to learn how to do stuff like that- we’ll teach you. Happily. But if you don’t… then we won’t make you … okay?” He reaches out and rubs his thumb on my cheek. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s not your fault that they didn’t bother to take care of you.”

I close my eyes- enjoying the feeling on his hand on my face.

“So… do you want to take a stab at this reading thing?” He asks.

I watch him carefully before nodding.

“Cool.” He goes to the side of the room and retrieves some sort of… screen. A large square in a light blue case. He taps on it for a few minutes before handing it over. “So you are an adult, obviously, and these are very childish apps so… sorry. We know you're not a child- alright? BUT they’re very helpful.” He smiles at me warmly. “So, just listen to the little app man and… follow along. Okay?”

I nod again.

“Good,” Johnny says. “I’m gonna go finish addressing envelopes. You know where to find me if you need me- right?”

I nod, already distracted by the bright, colorful, images on the screen in my lap.

"See ya in a bit." He says, leaving me sitting with the device in the quiet lounge.

I do not know what exactly happened in the kitchen when he and Mrs. Sue were arguing but... I owe it to him to try and learn everything I can as quickly as I can.
If he's going to repeatedly be nice to me... I should be making him proud.
...somehow.

And since he apparently does not want to fuck me... I guess this is how I'll have to do it. 

Chapter Text

I played with the device I was given for about three hours or so... at least I think I did... I honestly lost track of time and just played until the battery ran out. 

The whole experience was amazing in its own right. It was honestly the first time I’d ever really been allowed to play with any technology. And he left me completely unsupervised! As if that was a normal thing to do! He even commented on how much I seemed to like it when he passed through the rooms- seemingly amused. 

Even though I just stayed on the program I was told to stay on, I felt more in tune with everything around me. I guess I mean to say… not as cut off as I was previously?

The experience was one I treasure and I hope that I’ll be able to do it again.

Of course... I have no way to convey that to Johnny but…. I believe he’s bright enough to get the hint.

The backlit screen lit up the room as the sky outside got slightly darker. The shades were drawn in the lounge so I was sitting in the dark at one point. Which honestly, Johnny didn’t like too much. He claimed that looking at a bright screen in the dark would hurt my eyes and that I should turn a light on. I’m not allowed to use things that run on electricity without express permission. This includes lights.

So he fussed at me I guess not knowing that I was just obeying a very simple, very easy to follow, rule that's been beaten into me since ... birth. 

I feel like Johnny still doesn’t quite understand the rules and codes of conduct I HAVE to follow.

He seems to think that … I don't know… maybe I’m just some sort of really quiet roommate? He doesn’t understand what exactly my purpose is, which… honestly makes me unsure of it myself. I can't keep my... viewpoint on my own existence straight if he doesn't acknowledge it. 

I mean to say, I know what I am. He knows what he is. 
I just... don't think he knows what WE should be. 

All my life I've been told what I am and what I am for. Who I am for. Over the last few hours- I'm not so sure anymore.

I keep giving myself the 'talk' they teach us to repeat when we start getting 'foolish notions'.

It consists of some very easy to remember facts. 

1) I'm a tool. For entertainment. For release. I cannot go above my station. It is what I was bred for and what I will be used for until I am no longer of use. 

2) I am to use my life as the humans see This is to show the humans an act of thankfulness for the life they let me and my people have... instead of them just committing mass genocide. 

I understand that I could have easily been killed at birth. I am lucky. 
I am chosen for a purpose. 
And I am to follow my purpose until I reach my... end. 

I am what I was born to be. 
I will be used in whatever way the humans see fit. 
These are facts of life. They're not fair. They're not just. They're not logical. 
But... they are how it is.

Even repeating this to myself... something just seems off now. 
Years upon years I've talked myself through this process. 

And... it's all coming undone at the hands of a man who hasn't even touched me!

My 'education' growing up was always sure to put us in our place. Always. And when we were alone, we were taught to police ourselves- keeping in mind what we are and what we are for. 

But...Mr. Reed's version of events told something else...something different. 

The story he told- the 'facts'- how am I expected to take that? 
How can I accept this family's kindness when I know I've done absolutely nothing to deserve it??? 

I know mutant usage varies from house to house- of course it does. That only makes sense. 
But I have NEVER heard of an owner talking to a mutant like Mr. Reed spoke to me. 
I've never heard anyone trying to tell an alternate history. 

I've never EVEN THOUGHT of someone having an alternate story. 

I suppose it's easier to accept my way of life if I bought into everything my owners told me. 
But... now I have new owners. 
New home. New rules. New space. 

Is it logical to assume that with all these new things... my understanding would change as well? 

And at the end of everything- who am I to believe?  In some sense doesn't everyone involved in this have some sort of bias? Don't all of them expect me to listen to them and believe what they tell me over everyone else? 

So... who can I turn to? 
Who will tell me how things actually are? How things actually happened? 

...Do I trust the men and women who provided me with the most basic of needs- barely... and then had me spend my entire childhood repaying their kindness? The people who taught me just the basics of my life. No talking. No denying. Do as you're told. Don't fight back. Don't use your powers. 

Your...powers.  That's another level of odd trust that my new home seems to have granted me. There are no dampeners in this building. At least... not the ones I know. They make noise. a very distinct noise. 

They are trusting me to not use my powers to hurt them. 
And... I guess If there are no power dampers I may be discovering just what I'm capable of sooner rather than later. 

I have to admit- the now power dampers really threw me through a very large loop. 

On top of all of the strange things that have happened- that is by far one of the strangest. 

Then there's the whole apparent unease everyone seems to have about my primary use. I honestly thought this would be the most straightforward part of the duties I have been purchased to perform.

I am from a very notable stable in a very high demand pleasure district. My entire state of being revolves around making whoever owns me as happy as possible. In the only way I know-how. 

I'm very good at my job- not to be cocky in any way. It's just when you've done something for a long time, you pick up a few tricks. 
The men and women I've been with have rarely complained. 

And really until last night... I never really cried in front of a John. 
Or spoken, for that matter. 

I have made my intended purpose and willingness to carry it out very clear to Johnny, though. How I hold myself. How inviting my posture is. My desire to follow him about and do as he says...

I know he has to have SOME idea of what we're supposed to be doing... of what he is supposed to be doing... 
But... it's just not happening.  

No matter what I try to do to ease him into the idea- it's not happening. 

And it's not just Johnny! 

The entire house seems to be walking on eggshells when it comes to talking about why I'm here. Not only awkward about it- no. They seem to have an actual AVERSION to acknowledging it. 

At first, I thought that this was just because they were rich and polite. perhaps they see the idea of a pleasure aide... uncouth. 

But...I understand from their discussions with me and with each other- that they at least semi grasp the idea. 

I know as well as they do that Johnny is going to have to fuck me. 
That's how it works. Everyone knows how it works. 

Everyone except for him... apparently. 

None of our interactions have been sexual in ANY nature. 
He doesn't want his dick sucked.  He doesn't want to fuck me. 
He doesn't seem to want...anything. 

Which is odd, to say the least. Men- metahuman and human men at any rate- aren't like that. 

They ALWAYS want something.

He's careful with me. He's gentle. He speaks to me as if I were something or someone of value. He almost treats me like a... person. 

People don't act like that. They just don't. 

I almost can't handle it- as fucked as that sounds. 
Things have always been the same. And now? Now they're not. 

I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
I've been watching every single mannerism all of these people have. 
No one- no one can be THIS ..good. 
This kind. 
This... decent. 

These people don't exist. 
They can't exist. 
Not to me, at any rate. 

Yet... here they are. 
Kind. Soothing voices. 
And...

I just don't understand. 

I've been seeing countless numbers of men and women since I could stand- basically. It's the only thing I know. 18 years of the same thing over and over- the same wants, the same needs, the same routine on how to fulfill them- and now someone wants to switch everything up.

Everything. 

They want me to eat. 
They want me to read. 
They want me to operate things I have never been allowed to. 

It's like I've been plucked from some solid, everlasting nightmare, and thrown into a world of... nonsense.  That's what it is- it's complete nonsense. 

These people have children- their own biological children.

Every mutant I have ever met and known (besides the ones from the wild) never had that. We were taken from our mothers at birth. Literally. As soon as they can decide that an infant is healthy enough- they are removed and put straight into the system.
And our women? Don't get to keep their babies. 

None of us KNOW our parents. 

We have names- sometimes. And we have an idea of maybe an old costume. Or an old team affiliation. But we are NEVER allowed the comfort of having our mothers. Our father. Our own children. We can't even stay with siblings for extended periods. 

But this house- these people. They have children. Johnny and Mrs. Sue are siblings. Mrs. Sue and Mr. Reed are married- happily. They work as if they've never faced the cruel world I was raised in. Or if they do- they know it by reputation and not how it was.

To believe that there are children just running around-free. Not chained to floors. Not beaten. Not scared or lonely. Just... free.  To see it in person? 

This is all nonsense to me. 
This is not how the world works. 
This is not how people function. 

It's as if I'm on an entirely different planet. 

And I can't decide if I like it or not... if I'm allowed to express either of those emotions.   All of this confusion just adds to the fact that at this moment- I have a very unsure footing in this household.

I don’t understand how they function and maybe that’s just how it is when coming into a household. BUT I’m hoping things will get a little more… normal. Soon. It’s not that I want to go back to the grueling sexual demands day in and day out...But I feel like I’m walking on eggshells just as much as they are. I’d rather just get everything out of the way and see where we all stand amid the fallout.

Johnny doesn't make sense. 

And... I think I like that. I think I like it- but I know I shouldn't. 

He's caring. He's kind. He just...He's different. Confusing. Unnerving. Nonsensical. And.. different. 

When he saw me sitting in the dark with the bright screen he gave me a gentle lecture about backlit screens and vision damage/pain. I listened- of course. But I didn’t quite get it. The screen didn’t bother my eyes any and honestly if it did- not only would my healing factor immediately fix the damage but honestly I was having too much fun to notice. Besides, the app was very bright and loud- and very helpful. It was childlike- like he said it would be. But… it didn’t bother me any. I enjoyed following the small man on the screen’s instructions. And like I said- I was very entertained and actually could say I learned a lot.

Coming from someone who’s never had a single day of actual real-world schooling- I would say that it’s quite more meaningful than when other people ‘rate’ the app.

I mean there is obviously a lot more that goes into reading- more so than I thought, actually - but….I think that learning to read is going to be doable. When I was told I was ‘third-grade level’ I realize that the woman who told me was probably just trying to make me feel better.

The little app man didn’t seem to think I knew much at all.

He made a lot of funny noises- but they weren't necessarily positive ones. The noise was... cute. The colors were bright. 
I know I risk the chance of sounding like a child but... it was fun. 
I don't get to have fun. 

And ... I did. 

….My old master would have had fits of rage if he saw me today.

It was very unnerving for the first twenty minutes or so- waiting to see if someone was going to come storming in and injure me for daring to do what I was doing. When I realized that the household I am in currently didn’t seem to care AT ALL as they were all doing other things- I was able to relax just a little bit.

Just a little.

I think living here at the moment is more unsettling than anything I’ve done before just because of how nice these people are. They’ve clearly stated several times that they don’t want to hurt me. The first few times I wrote off as them luring me into a sense of security that they could then revoke whenever they felt like it.

At this point?
I’m… not sure.

I don’t think it’s a game.

The way I’ve seen them interact with each other and with other people via phone calls and the like… I think they may just be nice. Which is something that worries me greatly because… I don’t know how to deal with nice people.

What if I do something that offends them?

I’d have no idea how to avoid it because I’ve never encountered it.

I’m starting to think they’ve never encountered a personal mutant- either. Perhaps they've seen them in passing and gathered a general idea of what to do with them but… not grasped the full concept. I guess if I stop to think about it, they’re probably just as confused and unsure as I am. In that way- we’re in the same boat.

When the device died about two hours ago- I sat uneasily on the couch in the lounge. Johnny came through and said I didn’t have to stay in the lounge and that I could go lay down if I wanted- I think he thought I looked tired. Which… I guess I was. Last night was peaceful when I was finally able to calm down but… still exhausting. So, I took his advice and retreated to our bedroom.

Johnny’s been running around the building doing things while I sit in blissful silence.

He doesn’t require much assistance and I think my insistence to help him is making him uncomfortable. Which of course is majorly against the rules. I’m meant to make sure everything he wants/needs is taken care of- not be a hindrance.

So when the device died and I went to the bedroom- I sort of just sat down on the bed and I’ve been waiting for Johnny to become less busy since then.

The more time I spend in the bed the more I realize just how much I’ve missed out on growing up. And honestly, I feel a little guilty that my little brother is left in that hellhole- sleeping on the concrete.

If this were some fantasy where my owners were still as nice as they seem to be and I was able to ask for things… I like to imagine that I could make a case for them to purchase him as well.

But- this isn’t a fantasy.
And that’s not how it works.

I have to live with the knowledge that I get to spend my life seemingly treated decently and kept in comfort… while my siblings and the mutants I grew up with continue to suffer.

Even if I convinced them to purchase my brother- my old master isn’t going to let him go to the same home as me. That would be doing him a favor. And Jimmy has most definitely burned that bridge with him.

I’ve tried to throw all of my energy into proving to Johnny that I’m a decent aide and can do whatever he wants me to. Trying to push any thoughts of discomfort from my mind. I’m not allowed to be outwardly uncomfortable. I’m not allowed to be outwardly upset.

My brother.. my sisters… they have different lives to lead.
And that’s just how it is. I know I have to accept this.. and until my conversation with Jimmy the other day I thought I had. The idea any of our parents are out here mourning us... has managed to shake me to my core. 

I know it may not be true. 
I know that it could be something Jimmy made up to make me feel better.

But this underlying comment mixed with the entire mountain of confusing I'm facing is honestly making it very hard to function at times. I find that if my hands or mind aren't occupied with something that I feel.... very sad. Depressed. I understand why mutants go crazy. I understand why they jump. Or stab themselves. Get themselves thrown into prisons and executed. I understand now more than ever. 

It doesn't mean I'll do it. 
But... I understand it now. 

This being kept in mind, I try to stay as busy as possible. If not serving Johnny than with the tablet.  When the tablet died I tried to keep reciting the lesson I was in the middle of. I've tried to decipher where I could interject myself into Johnny's life that would be most beneficial to him. 

I’m throwing myself into any tasks I do to try and prove that I belong here. Even though 99.5% of the time I’m very aware that I do not.

I realize I have no way to tell Johnny that I learned anything today. Or how hard I’m trying… but I’m hoping he’ll notice.

I’m not allowed to draw attention to myself but… he seems like a very observant person.
...at times.

He’s still young so…I’m sure he’ll get better with time.

Right now, he’s in the bathroom - getting ready for some sort of outing. Singing- loudly. Off-key. Music is not his forte.

The shower is running and he’s singing over it.
It’s a....unique sound, to say the least.

I sit on the bed and look around the room.
I…. like it here. I know I’m not supposed to enjoy this but… I like it.

I’m in the very least a lot calmer than last night- which is an experience I sincerely hope to NEVER repeat. I’ve not spoken verbally at all today… so I can set my self tracked record of complete obedience back to day 1. I know it sounds fucked- but I like to see how high I can go without doing anything fundamentally wrong.

Outside the large windows, the sun is slowly sinking in the city- hidden between large buildings. There’s a glittering row of windows- again. Shining like tiny hidden gems.

From what I can see of it...the city is just… so nice.
I would like to explore it more thoroughly- but I know that’s not going to happen. So… I’m just grateful for this small little view I get of it.

I feel more of a part of this … lifestyle than my life before.. even if I’m not really.

The small piece that’s been given to me is more than I could ever ask for- as ground shakingly confusing as it is.
I’m aware that a cage is a cage. And that being trapped here isn’t any different than being trapped in my stable but… at least the view is worth something now.

I guess this is what it feels like for caged birds when they’re moved into different, unfamiliar rooms.

The idea of living in a cage doesn’t bother me all that much. After all, I’ve already spent all of my life in one.

At least this one has fewer bars.

Or I guess... fewer obvious bars.

I sometimes wonder how people function on the outside- I guess I mean the wild. Wherever all the ‘free’ mutants supposedly went to.

With everything I’ve been taught- It’s easy to imagine them just running around naked or something else uncivilized. No houses. No jobs. Eating mud and leaves ... our masters and keepers would have us think that these men and women are just animals. What we would be had we not been so well cared for under the humans’ 'gentle' and just rule.

The mutants in the wild? Kill or be killed- apparently. It’s a free for all. Plus- they’re fighting for resources against wild animals.

They have no grace.
They have no hygiene.
No indoor plumbing. Their clothes are dirty and worn- not warm enough to get them through the winters.

We were in the best place we could be by serving humans. As in the wild, parents just up and kill their children. So even if we were to be returned- we’d be dead anyway!

This…. this is the story we were told. After talking to Mr. Reed yesterday though… I’m not sure I believe that.

I mean I’ve had doubts before- who wouldn’t. But when I try to swallow the narrative I was told- I find myself thinking of Jimmy. Yes- he was uncouth and crude at times...but he wasn’t an animal. He wasn’t wild. He wasn’t feral. When he struck back at our keepers- it was just at the humans. He never injured any of the mutants. He was stubborn as hell and unrelenting- but he could speak. He knew how to bathe himself and everything. Probably honestly spoke better than some of the mutants I grew up knowing. Then, when he talked about his friends and… family- he made it seem like they were living fairly normal lives as well. Maybe even more normal than the lives we led.

After all I've been told over the last day or so... after all I learned from Jimmy himself- the narratives don't match up. 
And I know- I'm repeating myself.  Making different points in the same way. But fuck- I can't get it out of my head. 

I'm trying to learn something that no one has ever had the grace to tell me- to show me. And I mean- I can't even read. How the fuck am I supposed to learn about my own history when I can't even comprehend any of the books that would help me? 

The human’s society ends at a large wall- it runs from coast to coast.
On the other side? The wild. Where they find the other mutants- if they can find them.

The wild is really what’s left after the war.
Originally it was a place humans dared not go- which is how the mutants got away so easily. Now the humans have government official teams to go in and ‘retrieve’ new mutants. I guess, thinking of it now, they’re trying to create more bloodlines. Stronger ones. There are no pictures we’ve been shown of what’s out there. I don’t even know if normal humans know what’s out there.

What if there's a side to the war that we- the mutants- weren’t… told? What if it’s not just me and the people I was housed with who don’t know what’s going on… but everyone?

How did we end up where we are?
I feel as if there’s a story within a story- here. What we know. What humans know.

...and what actually is.

Secrets are easy to keep- take the mutant’s sign language- for example. We knew what we were and weren’t supposed to do and invented a way to keep moving.

I guess what I’m getting at is the past day has led me to think that I just… don’t know as much as I thought I did. Maybe it’s just the mutants on the inside that are so… set apart?

I guess it’s all a moot point now that I’m in my new home. But still… Mrs. Sue’s and Johnny’s faces when they learned that I hadn’t been taught such a simple thing as reading has… mixed some feelings up within me. Just a little.

It makes me wonder...If they don’t want us to be literate… and they don’t want us to know our history…What else could they be hiding?

Away from all these thoughts- I sit on the bed and practice the many words I remember from the app- that's what Johnny called the program- I was on, trying to focus on spelling- I know how to talk, obviously. But, as expected, some words do not sound how they are spelled. Going over the sounds of letters was easy, however, as I am very capable of picking up sounds quickly- due to my enhanced hearing.

I’m repeating my last lesson in my head when I hear Johnny’s shower cut off.

Guess he’s done?
He doesn’t like me waiting outside of the bathrooms for him… so I stay seated.

A few moments go by and I’ve returned to staring through the window. The sun is sinking so quickly. I didn’t know it could do that at that speed.

I imagine the world outside is cold now- darkness always reminds me of the cold. I guess that’s also a reminder from my time in my stable.

There is a loud ringing issuing from somewhere in the bathroom- I recognize it after a second as Johnny’s phone ringing. He answers with an “I told you- I’m almost done!”

There’s silence for a second.

“Yeah well, you calling me every three minutes isn’t helping, Steph! I’m almost ready. Give me… twenty minutes and I will meet you two at the restaurant! Got it?”

More silence.

“Goodbye, Steph- talk to you soon- bye.” He says- all in one breath.

Must be fussing with friends?

The bathroom door creaks open and Johnny walks out completely naked and completely distracted- drying his hair with a small gray towel in one hand and looking at his phone in the other.

His body is… very pleasing to the eye- I won’t lie.
Abs that are benefiting from his insanely long morning workout. His dick is… a little more than average as it is at the moment. Which is a decent size to have. Bigger doesn’t always mean better.

That is not to say that his dick is small. It’s just… not as big as some of the men I’ve had.
Then again.. maybe he’s a grower?

When Mr. Reed said he was infertile I have to admit I assumed there would be some size-related issues. But… he seems fine?
Maybe it’s just a fluke? Seeing as Mrs. Sue is his sister and appears to have two very healthy children with Mr. Reed- his family history seems to indicate that he shouldn't have too much trouble. 

I do not know if Ben has kids… but I haven’t seen or heard of any tiny rock people running around so I think it is safe to assume that he does not. Mrs. Sue was right when saying that Ben was...  tough. The man doesn't seem to want to be around me AT ALL. 

Johnny seems nonchalant and happy as he stands a small distance from the bed.
But… again- he’s naked…. So… maybe he wants to have some sort of service done before he goes?

I cock my head to the side- watching him curiously.
I never know what to expect with him… even after I spent so much time trying to decipher his moves/likes/dislikes/patterns today. He seems completely oblivious to my presence. I don’t know if I need to make a noise… or what.

Maybe he likes to pretend I’m not here when he doesn’t need me?

He lowers his phone and glances at the bed for a split second before jumping in surprise. “Fuck!” He yells- quite loudly.

I flinch- eyes widening at his sudden increase of volume.

Am I .. not supposed to be here?

He puts the towel over his crotch. “You’re here!” He says, laughing awkwardly. “In….. the room!”

I look at him with a look of confusion I hope translates well.

If I’m not supposed to be here- he needs to tell me where to go. He didn’t set up a schedule of any sort so I’m kind of just following him around from place to place.

“Right- of course, you are.” He says, smiling tensely. “You’re probably trying to rest…. And I’m yelling at you. My bad. Sorry- just kinda used to walking out naked… Let me... go put some pants on.” He goes back to the bathroom- walking backward and keeping himself covered.

Such an odd man.
It's almost as if he thinks I’ve never seen another naked person before?

I mean… I know he knows where I came from… but he doesn’t seem to be able to put that in context with what I am and am not used to.

He confuses me with this ‘protect’ thing he seems to want to do. No one has ever tried to really ‘protect’ me. Not like this.

Everyone I’ve ever interacted with up until this point has known that I’m simply… not worth protecting. I have no innocence left. I’m used up- in other words. So it shouldn't be that big of a deal if he is naked in front of me.

His hang-ups are both slightly frustrating and ... cute?

I know I’m not allowed to think that… but… I’m the only mutant in the house. So… who’s going to catch me? As long as I never say anything- they can’t punish me for it.

When he comes back into the bedroom, he’s wearing a pair of well-fitting lightly colored distressed jeans.

“Sorry… for shrieking.” He says sheepishly. “Kinda forgot… you would be waiting for me.” He rubs the back of his head. “Sooooo…. um… I’m going out to dinner with some friends… drinks too- probably getting a little smashed, knowing them. And I might not come home tonight.” He watches me carefully as if expecting some sort of reaction.

Obviously, I do not have one to give him.

It’s none of my business who he does and does not associate with. If he tells me to stay- I will stay. And there’s nothing more to it. I have no say in the matter- he could have left without telling me a word and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.

Humans have a habit of coming and going. They don’t know what’s it like to be tethered to one place for long- I don’t think. Especially if it involves doing something they don’t want to do.

Most humans will never do anything they don’t want to expressibly do. They don’t know what it’s like at all.

“BUT, while I'm gone,” He says. “I want you to go and hang out with Sue.. until you’re tired and then ya know.. go to bed. Whatever.”

I am unsure of this order mainly on the grounds of not wanting to bothe Mrs. Sue.

But... it’s not completely unusual to be farmed off onto a friend of a John or keeper or what have you. And again, it’s not like I have a choice in the matter.

“She’s uh… having dinner with a friend- kinda a planning meeting for her big event? The kids are over at a friend's, Reed’s out of town, and Ben is on a date… so… she could use the company. Cool?”

I nod. Might as well. It sounds like she’s got nothing going on- at any rate. So I guess I won’t be too much of a bother.

“Cool,” Johnny says. “I gotta finish putting all this,” He motions to himself, “Together. Ya know- keep the adoring fans happy.”

I find myself smirking to which he seems to take as something really funny.

He returns to finish getting ready- which is fun to watch through the wide crack in the bathroom door. He doesn’t worry much about his outfit- he applies zero makeup or hair products ... and he still looks amazing.

I can also see him rehearsing something to himself- I can’t hear the words but I see him trying to work out what expression to use.

Again… it’s cute.
He’s super cute.

Eventually, he starts running the sink and brushing his teeth- I guess that’s a sign that he’s finishing up in there.

I’ve personally never understood why people brush their teeth before they know they’re going to eat. Doesn’t that taste- nasty?

The toothpaste we were given in my stable was disgusting. It was to keep your teeth bright and in check- industrial strength like chemical makeup. The idea of mixing it with any of the food we were given makes me sick to my stomach to this DAY.

Speaking of food- I wonder what Restaurant he’s going to?
Maybe one we saw in the commercial today?

God, I would like to go. I know they probably wouldn't serve mutants but...it would still be nice to at least go inside and smell all the different kinds of food. I’m more than able to sit with people eating while eating nothing myself. My diet, as I said before, requires a LOT of fasting. Not eating at dinner is hardly something new to me.

He nods to me when he reemerges from brushing his teeth. “Okay.” He says. “I'm going to leave… so why don’t I walk you to Sue and Jen and ya know…be a good little brother and make the ever so important appearance?”

I didn’t know brothers were required to put in an appearance to their sister’s friends during visits.

Then again- I only got to stay with my sister for a year. And she wasn’t allowed to have ‘friends’ per se so… I guess I wouldn't have had a way to know that before this conversation.

I slide off the bed and follow him silently. He turns around at the door to make sure I’m coming, before answering his phone as it rings. “I told yo-” He stops moving. “What?”

There’s a long pause- the voice on the other line is female.

“Okay wow- that’s awesome. Thank him for me. I swear- I'll be right down!” he hangs the phone up and turns to me. “So, my friend is DDing- you know what that is?”

I nod.
I think I do.

“Okay good- so since I’m not driving, I will be drinking… a lot. And I most likely won’t be home. You can do whatever you want while I’m gone- stay up as late or whatever, but please try to be in the living quarters by like… 2 am? Sue will stress if someone’s up and moving about so it’s safer to just… chill in here for a bit- cool?”

I nod again.

“Cool.” He repeats.

He seems to say that a lot. Again- something that’s kind of ‘cute’ about him.

I guess I should stop thinking that now- I think I’m making him into a figure that I’ll actually feel something for. And that… is not going to be good when he gets around to using me. It’s easier to be taken advantage of and hurt by men who you don’t feel anything for. Then it’s just another day of work.

But if you like them.. .and then they hurt you…
Well...

It’s just best not to get attached.

We go through the same set of doors into the same room I entered from the elevator yesterday. Though this time it’s dark and a good bit colder. The room is lit by a single lamp by a large sliding glass door which is open- letting in a copious amount of chilled night air as well as two very cheerful female voices.

Through the door, I can see a soft glow- lights seemingly wrapped around the outside of the building- where the women are.
The lights are on strings- like… I don’t know what to compare them to. Tiny little yellow bulbs that are glowing bright and .. pretty.

“It’s a girl's night,” Johnny tells me. “So they are spending the night on the patio… I think you’ll like it- it’s really pretty this time of night!” He heads in that direction stopping at the doorway. “Good evening ladies,” He says, waving politely. “Nice to see girls night is still going strong.”

“Hey, Johnny!” is a warm reply from a voice I do not recognize.
I guess Mrs. Sue’s friend?

“Hey, Jen! How are you?” He asked, his tone pleasant and warm.

“Doing pretty great.” the woman replies. “Can’t complain!”

“So… lawyer stuff is going well?” He asks.

I hear his phone vibrating in his hand- but he doesn’t check it.

The woman laughs “Yea. Lawyer stuff is going well. Making some decent progress on some very touchy stuff right now.”

He looks down at his phone, shaking his head. “That’s awesome,” He says. “Well, Sis, I’m heading out now. Try no to do anything stupid while I’m gone. I know how crazy you like to get.”

“Haha. Very funny.” She says-dryly.

Johnny gives an exaggerated shrug. “Anyway- I gotta go. So… see ya.”

“Wait- wait.” Mrs. Sue says quickly. "What about NN, is he ready to join us? I need to know if he needs a plate or not.”

“Right here.” He motions me to come to the door. “And… I'm not sure how often he eats so… maybe on the plate?”

….NN?

“NN?” Mrs. Sue’s friend asks- verbally voicing my internal confusion.

“Oh, yea- NN,” Johnny turns halfway to me-like he’s addressing both of us at once. “‘No name’- it’s a placeholder until… ya know.. we, give him a name? I swear- tomorrow we’re gonna sit down and help him pick one out. Totally on the list.” Johnny addresses the last part of that sentence to me.

NN? I don’t think I like that much. But… it's is the first nickname I’ve ever been given so… at least they care?

“How ... cute?” Mrs. Sue's friend says- obviously thrown.

“Yea… I’m not a fan.” Mrs. Sue says. “He’s so handsome and is inquisitive at times. I think his name should be something… special. Obviously ‘no-name’ isn’t going to cut it. He’s got these really beautiful blue eyes- I feel like we should like… pick a nickname at least with something-”

“Oh no.” Johnny cuts her off. “You named two babies. You don’t get to name my mutant.”

There’s a good bit of humor there but hearing myself referred to as simply his ‘mutant’ makes me a little uncomfortable. I’m used to not having a sense of self… but people talking about naming me and such is sitting uneasily with me.

Johnny’s phone starts to vibrate again- he looks at the screen then groans.

“Well, get on it.” Mrs. Sue says. “It’s important- and if you don’t pick one soon, I will go ahead and do it for you.”

“Ooooh, I’m so scared.” Johnny teases, quickly texting on his phone. He looks back up with a grin. “I already said I’m helping him pick one out tomorrow. I promise. I’ll look some stuff up on google and-”

“Oh!” Mrs. Sue snaps her fingers, cutting Johnny off. “You know what, I still have that baby name book from when I was pregnant with Val! We can use that!”

“Yup,” Johnny says, smiling. “Tomorrow. I gotta go now. Steph is blowing my phone up!” He motions with the hand that’s holding the phone. “She is relentless!”

“Well… she’s Steph.” Mrs. Sue says, kind of in a semi annoyed tone. “So... where are you two headed?”

“How is that your business?” Johnny asks- very suspiciously.

“Why so defensive?” Mrs. Sue counters.

“Because you seem to try to weasel information from everyone as to who I’m dating." He pauses. “Not that Steph and I are dating- we’re not.”

“I don’t care who you do or don’t date.” She says. “I just want to know where you are.”

“Yeah well… I don't have to tell you that anymore- I’m not a teenager.”

There’s a long moment before she replies. “You’re right- I know. You don’t. But…. what if I need to contact you- hmm? What if something goes wrong here?”

“Sure you’re not just trying to keep tabs on where I’m going on my nights of debauchery?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not too old for me to want to check in with you, Johnny.” Mrs. Sue says, pointedly. “Or vice-versa.”

“Seeing as I’m over 18 and legally an adult- I would say that yes, I am too old to have to check in with you and as such, I don’t have to tell you shit….But… since you’re looking after NN for me- we’re heading down to a new bar and grill place that opened up downtown. It’s 5 dollar Sangria pitcher night and Steph wants to be well. ...Steph.”

“Please don’t drive if you’re going to get drunk,” Mrs. Sue says- far more seriously.

“Relaxxxxx.” Johnny groans. “I'm not an idiot. Marcus is DDing tonight. And to be honest, I might not even come home so…” He shrugs. “There’s that. I gotta go- take care of NN- will ya? He’s pretty calm tonight and was looking kinda tired soo… wouldn’t surprise me if he called it a night soon. He did a lot of work on the IPad- so… probably kinda sleepy.”

So he knows I did work! He even sounds proud of me!

“We will take great care of him!” Mrs. Sue says.

Johnny motions me forward again. “Here ya go, bud. You keep these two in line.” He says cheerfully, grinning and patting my shoulder as he heads back into the house.

The two women smile warmly- Mrs. Sue is wearing an understated makeup look- but it’s well done. Almost as well as my own. She’s dressed in the same style of short shorts she was wearing but with a long-sleeved top on. She kind of looks like what I imagine the John who played the ‘girl next door’ fantasy out on the girls would want them to look like. But obviously- she’s the real thing?
I don’t know.

She has a large collection of papers, binders, and folders spread over the large, rectangle, glass table she’s seated it. It stretches from one end of the patio almost to the other. it looks as if it could easily fit over 15 people. It’s a decently sized space.

Which… when I look to her friend- I see that space is something she would need.

Mrs. Sue’s friend is another very mutated person. So strange to see so many metahumans out in the world able to do what mutants can’t when they look so similar to us. The woman is large- easily the largest female (if not person in general) I’ve ever seen. Not large as in wide- she's rather thin. But still- very well muscled and toned. Oh and very green. Green hair, green skin, green eyes. Despite her size and her odd skin tone she’s very lovely-  which I know isn’t unusual for people with odd skin colors but… I have trouble pulling green-tinted eyeshadow- I can’t imagine I would be able to make being green head to toe work for me. She’s wearing a low cut top and skirt that somehow manages to work even though the size doesn’t match the time of year. It is quite chilly out here, after all.

I know I'm spending a lot of time on outfits and appearances but... that's kind of something I know very well. What with being forced to look a certain way for the last 18 years. Plus- I'm nervous. I think if I stick to topics I know, mentally at least, I'll be calmer and easier to interact with.

“Jennifer this is NN." Mrs. Sue introduces me, pleasantly. "He’s Johnny’s very special guest. And since he doesn’t have anything to do, I thought we could... invite him to a girl's night. Now, He doesn’t speak- so… yea. Don’t bother with any of your wonderful investigation techniques.” Mrs. Sue moves her hand and a chair scoots out from the large table set up- obviously her doing.

I don’t know what her powers are…But I’m very curious.

I know Mr. Reed has used his powers and I've been close enough to JOhnny to feel his elevated skin temperature- but Mrs. Sue's powers seem to be .. invisible? 

There's obvious proof that they are there and that she's using them- I mean the chair did scoot out. But... I can't see how she made it happen. 

I get seated, looking over the papers on the table. There are a lot of random words and letters- some of which I don't think is English. 
At least, I don't remember seeing them in the letters I learned today. One of the many sheets has a very nice glossy picture of a large building- one I’ve never seen but looks to be the nicest building in existence. 

Or at least, in my limited knowledge of it. 

Mrs. Sue sees me looking and points to it. “That’s the Marks- downtown.” She says. “I’ve been organizing a huge charity ball there for the last six years. Proceeds go to better understanding human/mutant relations.”

I’ve… never heard of that.
I didn’t even know that was a thing.

I see Jennifer’s eyes take on an almost calculating look before she turns to me with a smile. She holds her hand to me. “Jennifer Walters.” She says. “I’m a general prosecutor...so less involved with Sue's planning her and more here for the wine and food." She smirks. " Also the founder of the original Baxter Building girls night.”

It takes longer second than it should for me to realize that she is introducing herself. 

The 'general prosecutor' title has thrown me off. 
Those people are dangerous. Especially when it comes to trying mutants when there is a 'capital' offense made. I don't think I've heard of a SINGLE mutant who's been freed in those cases. People in her position are responsible for the murder of a lot of people in my position. 
I know I have to be polite to her- more than I would already. I can't be seen breaking a single rule around her. 

I take her hand unsurely.

“Don’t worry.” She says quietly, almost in a whisper. “I’m not one of the ones who lock mutants up. You’re totally safe.” She winks and turns to Sue. “So… what’s for dinner?”

“I have this new chicken alfredo recipe… I think I got it from Carol? Anyway- it’s amazing. Should be done in about an hour? I got it going late because I had to take Val and Franklin to Peter’s.”

“Peter’s… as in Peter Parker?” Jennifer asks.

“Yea. You know he’s been babysitting for us for YEARS.” Mrs. Sue says.

“I know I know," Jennifer says. "It's just... with his recent marital status... I'm wondering if the baby sittings not putting a dent on the newly married life." 

Hmm. If she gives her children to someone else do they come back? Or can she just decide she doesn't want them anymore? 
Would she decide that? 

Mrs. Sue laughs. “I sure hope not. He offered though and… I am so not missing a chance to have a glass of wine and relax for an hour or two.”

“It's just so weird to think of him as married,” Jennifer says, smirking a little. “Like… I remember him being 15 and… ya know… high pitched voice, little nerdy kid. It's just so… weird.”

“Yea- I feel the same way about a lot of the younger 'kids' running around New York right now. Kate Bishop- for example? Ya know- the girl Clint Barton was mentoring?”

“Yea- I know the one,” Jennifer nods.

“Saw her last week at brunch- drunk as hell.” She chuckles “Loving being 21, apparently.”

“Oh to be young enough to enjoy being blasted at brunch.” Jennifer sighs, happily.

I'm semi surprised, though I shouldn't be, that metahumans seem to have this loosely interconnected community within the city. I mean- that makes sense. Everybody belongs to one group or another. But... the fact that they know these people by name is a little daunting. Mutants don't have names- really. I can point out the ones I know- but I can't tell you what they're called. 
How do they even keep up with all of these people?

The people mentioned seem to know Johnny and Mrs. Sue- which means they’re probably heroes too.. I guess? 

There’s a small lull in the conversation before Mrs. Sue asks, “So...who wants wine, hmm?” She takes a bottle out from a small fridge placed by the wall of the patio and uncorks it with great ease.

The thing is… I don't drink. I mean- I’ve never really... drunk. Not socially- anyway. Some Johns have … ‘kinks’ where they want you to be drunk/high. But I was never really that good at it.

“Yes please!” Jennifer says.

Mrs. Sue brings out three cups- obviously intending for me to join them.

She fills the cups up a good bit but not to the top- they’re very fancy wine glasses- crystal, it looks like.
They’re large- wide…and well… wine glasses. Everyone knows what a wine glass looks like- even me. The cup is a standard-issue except for when you get to the stems or foot- whatever it's called. The bottoms of the glasses are covered with intricate designs. Pretty- basically.

She holds one towards me - the wine is yellow/white and smells… odd. I always assume it will smell more like grape juice than it does.

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “I get that you’re under 21… but… we won’t tell if you don’t.” She winks at me. “Nothing wrong with having a glass or two under the close supervision of some older gals.”

“Under 21?” Jennifer asks before leaning back dramatically. “And who are you calling ‘older’ Mrs. Richards?”

Mrs. Sue chuckles. “He’s 18. As of yesterday, actually, so to him, I’m sure we are quite a bit more… mature.”

“Mature is a much better way to put that,” Jennifer says, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I’m glad you said he’s 18. Honestly, He looks… small for his age.”

“I don’t think he eats much.” Mrs. Sue swirls the wine in the glass. “It’s okay.” She says. “This is just girls night- wine is like… a tradition.”

I take the cup, holding it carefully.
The crystal is smooth under my fingertips.

"It's perfectly safe." Mrs. Sue says gently. "I promise." 

I don't want to break the glass so I hold it as carefully as possible. I know how to hold glass, of course. I'm not that removed from things. It's just that the usual cups I’m allowed to touch are shittily made plastic monstrosities. So….. it’s a change.

Mrs. Sue hands her friend a cup and they start chatting. Really about everything under the sun. 
I don't know many of the topics well enough (or even at all) to keep up with and I honestly can't talk to them anyway. So I just enjoy looking around the patio and out into the busy city. 

I drink the wine slowly at first. It has a very odd taste- I’m not quite sure I like it initially. But by the third mouthful- it starts to grow on me. Plus… I haven’t drunk anything since the day before yesterday. I’m aware of the effects alcohol could have on the body but… a drink is a drink- right?

I finish my glass while they laugh and chat.

Mrs. Sue notices and asks, “Would you like some more?”

I nod- even though I can feel my head start to feel light and fuzzy.

Mrs. Sue pours me some more- still chatting.

The seats on the patio are heated by this heating mechanism that you can only really feel when you’re sitting down. So we stay nice and warm while we watch the sunset. I guess that’s also how Jennifer can wear her current outfit?

I continue drinking- since no one’s told me to stop and Mrs. Sue continues refilling my cup- almost absentmindedly. Like she notes me enough to know that it's empty, but doesn't pay much mind when she's refilling it. I don't think she knows of my very limited interaction with alcohol. 

It takes a bit but I decide that this is just what adults do. And as of yesterday- I am now an adult. Which means that I am going to have to learn to handle such things. 

So I try to focus on the taste and enjoying the warm air spread by the heater. 

The night is nice. Soothing. 

Everything seems to be going perfectly until my stomach starts to churn.

I finish my glass and she refills it- even though I do not want to continue and I don't think I can handle much more IF any- at this point. 

But…. she hasn’t told me to stop drinking so… I let her continue to supply the alcohol. I can't waste anything food or drink that's given to me. It's a rule. If someone is taking the time out of their busy day and the money out of their wallet to supply you with something to consume- you consume all of it. That's just how it goes. 

I lose complete track of the conversation. 
Complete track of the city sounds and smells. 
My whole world becomes tunnel-visioned on the glass in my hand and trying my best not to puke. 

Eventually, Jennifer gets up, going into the kitchen and retrieving the food. Which normally would have been fine- I don’t eat with others anyway. The smell is one that I do not know. It's not bad- but it's hot. And I can't manage the idea of it coming any closer to me. I know at this point that I am going to be ill. BUT I still have a half-full glass and it is obvious that they want me to eat with them. 

I try to settle my stomach- and nerves. 

This is going to end very badly but there's no way I can tell them how ill I'm feeling. 

I manage to keep myself from coughing- which will lead to vomiting- but...As soon as it comes into full view of the table- and full smell- I helplessly clutch my stomach and puke all over the table. 

The women shout in surprise and I’m so upset that I’ve fucked up their night- but I’m also so so sick.

I wait for the angry voices but.. .they don’t come.

My chest hurts and my nose is stinging- I guess I got acid or puke or something gross on my face?

Mrs. Sue gets up from her chair quickly- it scoots back loudly- and stands over me removing the wine glass so it won’t break and pushing it further away from the puddle of vomit.

I’m so upset that I’ve done this on her relaxation night.

Luckily I do note that I missed the papers- which Jennifer is now gathering and moving far away from this mess.

Mrs. Sue. then helps me lean over so the vomit will go on the patio and not the table.
She crouches down, well out of the way of any splash damage but still right beside me, and rubs my back while I puke violently onto her beautiful patio.“Shh shh.” She soothes. “That’s it. Get it out.”

The smell of chicken is gone- so I guess Jennifer took it away?

Mrs. Sue rubs my back and says soothing things for a good ten minutes- until I’m completely empty. “There we goooo ...see… all better?”

“Oh the poor thing,” Jennifer says overhead. “White wine succcks coming up.”

Mrs. Sue says with a small laugh. “I didn’t tell him to stop drinking so he didn’t stop.” She rubs my back. “It's my bad.” She smiles a little. “But now we know, hmm? Jen, can you go get me a washcloth, hun? I want to clean him up.” In a few short minutes- she’s washing down my face. “There we go.” She soothes. “Let's get you inside. You’re gonna need a shower.”

I’m slightly scared.
Girls and boys are savagely taken advantage of by certain keepers if they’re inebriated.

And… I am now very inebriated.

Plus.. my last encounter with a woman… didn’t go well.
She was older.
Much older.
And what she demanded was… too much.
I never knew my mother. Or my grandmother. OR- any maternal figure.
This woman’s… ‘kink’ was caretaking. Washing and brushing your hair and then when you were very relaxed, she started to play ‘games’ with devices and concoctions that were very VERY painful.

She was a sadist- in other words.

And she got off on punishing young men- boys really- because it made her happy.
If she could do the caretaking before and get us lulled into a false sense of security- then she got off… faster. Or harder? I’m not sure.

I’ve never really enjoyed sex with women anyway.

It’s not that I don’t think they're attractive… it’s just that… they’re always the ones receiving and it just makes me feel too much like the men who use me.

And I don’t want anyone to feel like that.

At any rate- I don’t do well with older people- in general.
But the idea of being trapped, naked- with two older women just adds to my nausea.

When we’re moving inside- my mind goes numb. 
I'm aware- but I'm not. 

I kinda end up slumped in the corner of the bathroom- vision beyond blurred. I'm guessing that if I close my eyes and take some deep breaths- I'll be able to keep everything down. 

--------------------

“I’m understanding that, dear- really.” Mrs. Sue’s voice is the first thing I hear when reentering consciousness. I didn't mean to go to sleep- at all. It just sort of... happened. “Just walk me through it one more time- okay? Just to be sure..” There's a pause. “No, I don’t want to call medical services in here- they’re gonna freak him out. Just one more time- where exactly does the needle go?”

There’s another pause.

“Right- I know it’s not a needle needle. Just tell me how to find where it-

“Sue- he’s awake!” Jennifer calls. “Maybe we can skip the IV and just give him some water orally? Would that be easier?”

Mrs. Sue walks over to me- I can see her concerned face only slightly in the dim lighting.

“He just woke up, honey, I’ll call you back. Love you!” Sue hangs the phone up. “Hey hun,” she says to me, putting her hand on my forehead. “You kinda overdid it- huh?” She asks voice sweet and soft.

I nod- weak and tired.

“Yea. Guess wine might not be your thing. That’s okay. We’ll find you something better for the next girl's night.” She reaches down to the nightstand and retrieves a water bottle. “As for now, take some of this, okay? Good ol’ water and rest. Best way to deal with a white wine incident- trust me.”

I swallow the water as she said.

“Little sips.” She coaches. “Little little sips. Too much and it will all come back up again.”

Her eyes are so… gentle.
Like… almost motherly.

Well…. she’s a mother.
What was I expecting?

“I called Johnny and he said he was heading back. You’ve been out for… about forty minutes now...” Mrs. Sue says. “So, just try to rest, okay?”

I nod again.

“Here,” She sets the large device from earlier- now charged -beside me. “If you need me, press this green button- alright?” She shows me the screen- hitting a small button at the bottom shaped like a square- when the screen lights up it shows a large green button with a weird symbol on it. “Push this- you don’t have to talk, I’ll come straight to you, okay?”

I nod again.

“Okay sweetie, take it easy.” She goes to the door of the bedroom.

“Feel better honey.” Jennifer waves from the doorway as they exit.

My stomach churns for a while as the room spins, but I can feel my body starting to right itself.
I take small sips of water and try to relax.

Ugh. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this dizzy without blood loss. I guess you learn something new every day.

I run my hand over the warm blankets draped over me.
My jeans and shirt are gone- but the briefs stayed. So I guess they made it through. Which is relaxing in a sense. At least I didn’t do anything embarrassing like piss myself. I knew a guy who pissed himself every time he drank. It was embarrassing.

About twenty minutes into my rest- when my head is pounding less- there’s a loud commotion coming from the door to the living quarters.

A woman and two men one of whom is Johnny- are all laughing and joking walking through- drunk.

“So!” The woman declares loudly when they enter- just outside the actual bedroom. “Bring him out!”

“Chillllllll.” The man who’s not Johnny says.

“Nah- Nah. I wanna see him!” She says, somewhat hotly. “If he’s oh so pretty- let me be the judge!”

“Oh my gooood.” I hear Johnny groan. “Shushhhh. He’s probably sleeping.”

I’m sitting up in bed- ready to do whatever they need me to do when Johnny enters- stumbling a little. “Oh good. You’re awake.” He says- smiling sloppily. “Sue said you were… sick… sick? Yea- sick. You puked. So I came to check on you.”

“With company!” The man calls from the hallway.

“Shush!” Johnny calls back over his shoulder.

“Bring him out, Johnny!” The woman calls again.

“Shush!” Johnny repeats laughing loudly before turning back to me. “So… how are you feeling?”

I shrug a little.

“Yea? Need some medicine?”

I shrug again.

“Need some-”

“Enough of this suspense bullshit!” The woman’s voice is loud and close as she barrels into the bedroom. She’s thin- really thin- with large breasts (which wouldn't be the first thing I would say but.... they are literally hanging out of her shirt) and even larger hair- god- it’s so teased out it’s ridiculous. Also super red. Everything about her looks over the top. Not really in a bad way- but still. Over the top. As if she's overcompensating when really- she doesn't have to. She's actually very lovely. “Well look at that.” She says, putting her hands on her hips. “He is pretty.”

“Yea?” Her male companion steps in and him- him I recognize.
And it’s not a positive association- either.

He watches me closely- giving an oh so subtle nod.
Oh, yea.
I know him.

He looks at me with a … very predatory glance. “Sure is. Where’d you get this one, Johnnyboy?”

God, now I feel like puking for another reason.

“Hmm… don’t remember. Reed picked him out. And up- I guess.”

The woman comes and sits directly on the bed, staying upright for all of thirty seconds before falling over onto her stomach- sideways, almost sliding off the bed. I don't know if she's meta or human- but if she hits her head on any pieces of bed that may be sticking out when she falls- she could get hurt. 

I want to alert someone of the impending danger- but I can't. And grabbing her in any instance would not be advised. But most definitely not while she's drunk. 

Her heavily lined eyes are a smudged mess- shades of blue too dark for her pale skin and liner that wasn’t up to snuff for whatever she’s been doing tonight.

She catches my eyes- smiling sloppily as she semi turns onto her side. “You’re such a pretty boy.” She coos as she plays with the neckline of her top- lowering it a little to show more ‘seductive’ cleavage. However, she’s very drunk and it… doesn’t go as she planned. She looks more awkward than sexy and I’m truly worried she’s going to roll off the bed and hurt herself. She smiles- thinking she’s got my interest- I guess? “Getting kinda… hot? Why don’t you come to momma- huh? Give me a taste of that mutant lovein-” She breaks down laughing at her awkward proposition.

Johnny joins her laughter for a second before saying, “He’s not feeling good, Steph. Leave him alone.”

“What? He can’t handle the test drive?” She slurs. “This is what he’s meant for, Johnny boy.” She says, sitting up. “Mindless sex. I mean, I don’t get to have one… so you could at least share yours…. come here, baby. I got something that can rock. Your. World.” She reaches her hand towards me and I am unsure of what I should do.

Before I can think of something, Johnny shakes his head and motions for me to stay where I am. “I don’t share.” He says. He eventually sits down too- quickly ending up on his back. “Why is the world so spinny???”He laughs loudly.

They are … drunk.
How on earth did they- adult humans of average build- manage to get THIS smashed so quickly? I mean… I guess I’m not one to talk, though.
Pot meet kettle sort of thing- I suppose.

The woman rolls over and clings onto his chest- which is good in the sense that she won’t be in as much danger as falling on the floor now… but they are taking up a good portion of the bed now. Which again- I guess is normal. It is Johnny’s bed. I’ve only slept in it one night. That's hardly worth calling it ‘mine’. OR even ‘ours’.

“Ha. It is spinny -isn’t it?” She asks- words slurred and tone quiet. She roughly manages to kick off her heels. “I feel sick.” She mumbles.

“Imma close my eyes,” Johnny says. “Wake me up in… twenty minutes.”

“Make it thirty.” The woman says- burying her face into Johnny’s neck. “Night night.”

“You’re such a lightweight- Steph.” He laughs but… also passes out fast, not long after.

Which leaves their friend to stand and stare at me.

He doesn't seem intoxicated at all. He nods to the two passed out on the bed. He's also dressed notably nicer than they are. Black suit jacket and dark-colored jeans over a white button-up shirt- the other two aren't shabby, but he's on a different level. “Can’t handle themselves.” He says, almost conversationally. “So happy that I was able to DD tonight. Your darling little master may not have come home, otherwise.”

His face is almost perfect. Really- if his cold brown eyes weren't dead and lifeless- he could be seen as the type of man that everyone would lust for. His hair is long- yet short- jet black and sits on his head. With more length on top- kind of down in a swoop like deal, and the sides shaved. 

The way he said his previous statement sounds… less than friendly. And more than familiar.

He is not a good man. 

Not only someone I don't trust around myself- but also Johnny's female friend as well. 
He's the stereotypical human I'm used to.

He'll take what he wants- when he wants it. Anything he wants. Anytime he wants it. Anywhere he wants it. 

This man is NEVER told 'no'. 

“You would think that a famed party boy like Johnny Storm would know how to hang,” he says, inspecting his nails before turning his eyes to me. There is a gleam there that is not necessarily human .“I suppose he’s not to blame, entirely. After all, alcohol never really mixes well with roofies and Johnny still hasn’t learned to guard his damn drink.” he smiles wickedly after this. His teeth are almost unnaturally white. Not in 'I take good care of them 'way. More so in the repeated cosmic surgery kind of way. 

"I really hope they're at least grateful for the night's sleep." He says, almost sounding amused. "Roofies are extremely hard to get in this fucking city. You'd think the up and comers would like anything that would make the hunting grounds a little easier- hmm? God, I miss Cali. Could go into a fucking seven elven and get anything you wanted! Who would have thought that New York would be so fucking dull?" 

Roofies? He drugged them?

I mean it's not out of character. But...he’s proud of drugging his friends?
That seems needlessly awful. Also… dangerous.

I’ve been taught to treat every human as some sort of danger but this man….

Something is wrong.
More so than him just drugging Johnny.

I’ve seen him in stables before. More importantly, I’ve seen him buy young boys and girls- so he knows just what we get up to in those places.

This means if I saw him at my stable, where johns are allowed to be as ruthless as they desire…. he’s probably got some decently dangerous ‘kinks’.One that I do not want to be Johnny exposed to- no. But again, I'm also very worried about their female companion.

I do not know how humans go about reporting assault… but the girls of my stable were constantly ignored or punished for ‘lying’.
The boys were too… but to a less extent. So while I believe they would take both her and Johnny’s side ... well- I think- I don’t think she would be taken quite as seriously- just with...what I know about what I know.

The point is, my safety is in constant flux- and that’s something I’ve learned to deal with. But if this man becomes violent with Johnny and his friend while they are unconscious… I don’t know what to do.

Obviously, I’ll have to stop him- I can’t let him hurt innocent people.

But in stopping him- if I do it wrong- I could quite easily end up in a lot of trouble. If the authorities are called- it might escalate into something that Johnny won’t be able to talk me out of.

My attention drifts to the device Mrs. Sue had left for me.

“With the dose I gave them, they’ll be fine- of course.” He says smoothly. “Just think they partied a little too hard." He pulls his phone out of his pocket- holding it up in front of him and looking between something on his screen and me. "Perfect." He says, before and audible snap. "For prosperity." He says, winking. He does some more on his phone before putting it back in his pocket. "Keep this baby in my pocket." He says. "I love the after pic I take- honest." 
...After pic? 

"I'm a mutant connoisseur." He says. "I love the feeling of taking out something so... powerful. So ...beautiful. I need to take the before and after pics just so I can see what little light was in their eyes the before is demolished in the after. Nothing personal." he pats his pocket where the phone is. "Gotta keep them all on this shitty thing. Let's just hope the battery lasts long enough. It's more glitchy than the tech mutie bitch I held underwater last week." He smiles. "I let her up- of course." He says as if that makes the statement better. "Just... wanted to see what would happen." He smiles, humming to himself a few seconds before saying. "So- this Johnny thing. The whole my having to babysit him- which fucking sucks, by the way. The man is completely impossible to deal with at times. Well, he's passed out now...kinda leaving me with no… compensation for all my hard work tonight.” He says- almost in a pouting sort of way. “I’d like to think a man is entitled to some sort of payment when he has to be stone-cold sober around idiots.”

I’m sure.

I watch him carefully- his every move seems deliberate.
He is taking control of the situation. Once he's got it... I don't know what will happen. 

I get the sinking feeling, however, that this isn't a random encounter. 

“Johnny should be celebrating his new role in life.” He says- almost offtopic. “I mean, there’s supposed to be some kind of proof of your… purpose submitted to the local officials. You think with something as pretty as you… he’d be on that 24/7.”

I keep the device close to my right hand- trying not to look like I’m looking for it.

The man nods to it anyway. “Go ahead, darling. Push the button. By the time Mrs. Richards comes in all, she’ll see is a bloodthirsty little mutant abuse and assault the men and woman who just want to take care of him.”

I feel trapped- which is an odd feeling seeing as he’s entirely across the room.

“I know you, you know.” He says. “Well- I mean, of course you know. But I want YOU to know that I know- get it? I have a …. thirst for certain things. Fine things. Pretty things.” He motions to me. “And you are… just the prettiest little thing, aren’t you?” He walks around the bed- back and forth at the foot. “Are you enjoying your new home? hmm? Are you enjoying being fucked by this idiot?” He motions to Johnny. “Probably doesn’t know which way is up,” He whispers in a way that’s obviously meant to be heard. I think it’s called a ‘stage whisper?’ “Heard he has some trouble… down below.” He glances at Johnny’s lap. “Problems maintaining? I mean we all know Johnny boy is shooting blanks… god.” he laughs, stopping his pacing at the foot of the bed. “Just how fucking embarrassing right? Human- metahuman whatever- fuck- can’t make babies. Oh my god.”

I need to call someone.

I know that and my instincts are yelling at me with every move he makes. 

“I used to watch you- you know. Watched you with other men. Saw all those disgusting things you did.” He smiles. “Of course, there was no name to track you down. So when Johnny described you… I was so hoping you were who I thought you were. I had your picture and everything.” he says, grinning. “Even drugged those two assholes to see if I could get to you first. I’ll admit, I’ve got a bitttttttt of a kink.” He says- almost pleasantly. “I like to fuck my friend’s mutants. I know, call me a bad friend,” he makes a funny face with this. “But…….. I chose the married with kids route and… you know how it is- right?  You get yourself a pretty wife- great rack, fat ass, tiny waist- truly a ten outta fucking ten. You fuck around a few years before she starts popping out a few runts and then just- deteriorates before your eyes! She gains a shit ton of weight- ages like a fucking muddy tire and turns you down whenever you want sex because she's 'too tired'- you get it. Not pretty. Not young. She can be disobedient. I mean there's no thrill in it! She can backtalk-and when I wanna assert myself as a man- she can disobey!! My options are extremely limited!  I slap her in the face, she calls her daddy and he’s in my face…. it’s a mess!” He slowly takes his suit jacket off-dropping it on the floor. "BUT if I slap a mutie slut in the face? Nothing happens. No one cares! There are no cries of 'abuse'! There are no sobbing messes on your kitchen floor. No cops at your house. And even if they were.... they wouldn't' know what was going on.” He smiles. “Because good little muties don’t speak- do they?”

I know what’s going to happen. It’s happened more times than I can imagine.

He's monologuing. Again- setting the scene. 
I won't lie- this part can be terrifying. 
You know you're going to be injured- raped, demeaned, beaten. It's all part of the package deal. 
But the way some of these men are known to talk- the things they say... the gross things they can do that aren't necessarily part of the 'normal' deal... it's quite unsettling.  Until he tells you what his plans are, there's this uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

He tells you what he wants to do- you adjust. 
It fucking sucks- it's going to suck anyway. BUT if you're good at what you do and well trained, as soon as you know what he wants, you can start doing little things to 'enhance' the experience.  This isn't for YOUR enjoyment. It's for HIS. The things to make him feel better. Things that will take him from possibly mad- to possibly happy. 

So yes- there is a little benefit of him not tearing into you AS hard if you find whatever way to accommodate him. However- it's tricky because you can only try so many ways before he catches on that you're trying to do something and he's probably going to assume that it's just you trying to yourself off. Which will make him angry- which will put you back at square one with him madder than before and no 'weapons' to use against him. 

He violently- and suddenly-draws his hand back and slaps me across the face- I’m honestly shocked. It's a good hit and rocks me in my spot. 

I know better than to block as I don't think he'll be as nice as Johnny was. 

“See??” He says- almost cheerfully. He waits a few seconds before spreading his arms wide. “And no one is gonna do shit! Hurting muties… it’s a victimless crime. Because crimes… are committed against people.” He bends down- hands on his knees as if he’s talking to someone much younger than me. “And muties… aren’t people?” He smiles. “Are they?”

I find myself in fearful awe.
Yet- if he just hurts me and leaves without hurting anyone else… then I suppose that will have to be okay. It doesn’t matter how I feel.

He is a human- my master is passed out- I will have to do what he says.

It’s… all I know.

“ARE THEY??” He thunders close to my face- causing me to flinch.

I quickly shake my head- agreeing with him.

"You can't say 'no' to me. You can't yell at me. You can't hit me. You have to be submissive to EVERYTHING I tell you. And I mean," He motions to me. "You're young. You're pretty. You're thin.... and I can't knock you up! If I tell you to smile- you'll do it. If I tell you to suck my dick- there won't be a single second of hesitation. You understand that I am better than you. YOU don't make me fucking PROVE myself." He's getting very worked up. I feel like this is less about me and more about some screw coming loose in his own mind. "YOU understand THAT I AM THE MAN." His voice is very loud. 

I watch his shoulders tense- his eyes narrow. There's a vein in his forehead that's pulsing. 

"DON'T YOU???" He thunders before slapping me again. 

The impact knocks me over slightly- I clutch my face and nod- quickly. 

"That's right." He says, straightening up and taking a deep breath. "YOU understand your place. YOU understand the magnificence that is me." 

I think if his ego gets any bigger, we'll have to move to the balcony so he has room for it. 

"You understand." He says, voice dropping to whisper. "you do." 

I nod again. 

"So... when I take you in any way I please, you won't scream- will you?" 

I shake my head. 

"You won't cry. You won't beg. You won't call your fucking daddy and complain that I 'raped' you. Because it's not rape when a stronger being uses a lesser being. It is how the world was meant to work." 

I feel bad for his wife. 

"You are everything I could want." He says. "And you have to do whatever I say. What an absolutely wonderful way.. to end a night." He bends down closer- getting in my face maybe just an inch away. "And if you're good sweetheart, we can do it again. And again. I mean- your price at your stable was insane! I couldn't pay that." he nods to Johnny. "But now that you're that idiot's fucktoy- I can have you every time the opportunity presents itself." 

That's not my intended purpose. 
That? That is extremely illegal. 

Even if he initiates the whole thing- if we get caught? 
I'm going to be locked up. 
Then I'll end up in a court and eventually, as these things often work out, I'll be put to death. 

And... I have no say in any of it. 

“Such a worried little face." He coos. "I know, it doesn’t seem fair to Johnny and you want to serve him or whatever,” He says, pouting. “But this is your lot in life. If we get caught? You deserve whatever will happen! I mean come on kid,  Let’s be honest,’ He motions around the room, “You deserve a lot WORSE than this. IF it helps you any think of it this way- since Johnny owes me something for watching his drunk ass and he’s not able to pay I’ll just take something from you as payment. And you will let me because if you think about it, it's only fair.” He says. “I only want what I am owed." 

I severely- SEVERELY- doubt that. I don't think Johnny owes him a fucking thing. 

But… I have no choice.

When he offers his hand to me- I know it is not an offering. It’s a demand.

“Come.” He says.
Simple. To the point. I have no choice… he knows and I know it.

He’s just taking his payment. That’s all it is.

I could make this into some big emotional moment. Some devastating turn of events. Something to end my very way of function. But… it won’t change anything.

Him.
Johnny.
Another one of Johnny’s friends down the road?
It doesn’t matter.
This … this is all I will ever be.
Ever.

“Remember kiddo…” He says. “They can play nice. They can make you feel ‘human’.... but you’re not. You never will be. All it takes is one bad day… and Johnny… whether you like him or not, is going to show you that he’s just like everyone else in the world. You didn’t get a break. This isn’t a new start. It’s a show. Smoke and mirrors. The FF will never understand you. They will never treat you as a human. You will never be anything other than something they own. And when your novelty wears off… it’s going to be back to the old grind. Consider me as… your refresher course. You're not betraying anyone's trust here. They don't like you to begin with.” He gives his hand a shake. “Come. I’m dying to get off in a way that I just know you can help me.”

I take his hand, sick to my stomach again, and let him led me into the bathroom.

He closes the door and locks it.

For a minute we stand there in the dark-He fumbles for the light switch- while humming to himself.

“Aren’t you pretty?” He says- forcing me against the small sink- one hand on my shoulder and the other gripping my throat- making me face the mirror. “I was hoping you would recognize me.” He whispers. “I never got to you… but…” He forces me to turn around- facing him- chest to chest while pressing me against the sink. Pretty much holding me immobile.  “I did enjoy your sisters,” he says with a laugh. “Both of them.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket- pointing it towards my face.

"Want to know what happened to them?" He murmurs- nibbling on my ear. "Want to know what I did?" 

My blood runs cold. His statement crushes me- right on the spot.... seeing as one of them is easily 12-13 years younger than me- she would have been a small child.

“Your older one… nice girl.” He says. “She was soooooooo good. Wasn't a screamer- took every single inch I had to give her. I made her gag when sucking my dick- seeing her choke was just... masterful. I took a picture. It's my favorite. I look at it every single night. The younger? well, I’m not a fan of… well... darker-skinned women. Your daddy had a thing for making little racial atrocities- didn't he? You. Her. I think your older sister is all white- but then again... who knows?? The little one- oh she was a screamer. Almost feral. Really a  wild animal. God, I couldn't hold her still.” He roughly grabs my chin- forcing my head up so he can lean down and bite my exposed throat. “Do you want to know what happened to the little one?” He whispers after pulling back- blood on his lip from how hard he bit me.

I inhale deeply.

“She was sold to a processing plant. Not for processing… but… servicing the wonderful men who spend all day euthanizing all your naughty little mutant friends... and siblings. And eventually- you.”

I close my eyes as he starts to rub against me- my body doesn’t react at all. It ever does.

And even if it did- I don't think it would for him anyway.

"Such a look of helplessness." He coos. "You can't do anything for them. They're probably useless now." he puts his phone back in his pocket. 

The thought of my little sister- MY LITTLE sister- trapped in that hell? She doesn't deserve that. 
No one deserves that. 

This man- this fuckwad- is a monster. 

He's a monster and I can't do a fucking thing to stop him. 
If we get caught- he'll face no consequences. Me? I'll be thrown away in an instant. 

Maybe that's what I deserve. 

Maybe my not belonging here means I don't belong anywhere. Maybe I'm cursed. 

He runs his hands over my spine- moving around to my stomach. "you're so thin." He mutters. "I like it." 

I keep my eyes lowered. 

His hand moves from my stomach, sliding up to my chest and stopping play with a nipple. Again, pointless. It's very hard for me to be anything close to turned on.. ever. 

“Mmmmm.” He moans- tweaking it harshly. “How's that feel baby?” He hisses in my ear. “Do you like that?”

And he’s a talker. OF course he is. 

“Does he like a little rough?” He rubs against me harder. He quickly spins me around- shoving me back into the sink again- banging my head against the mirror. His hand toys with the waistband of my briefs. He roughly grabs my dick- which makes me hiss. Not because it feels good- just the way he grabbed it is rough. Like he doesn't know how to handle a dick. He fumbles around for a second- probably giving the out in out worst handjob I've ever felt/witnessed. I try not to focus on his failure- wondering why the fuck he would even be trying to make me hard in the first place. He's starting to get frustrated and while I know this is a scary event and that it's very scarring... it's just getting awkward. I can't will myself to get hard. I can't do that even in the most normal of situations. What he is trying and failing to do is just... not going to happen. “How are you not hard?” He hisses-pissed. “You can't deny me ANYTHING!!! You do what I say!!!" His jerks get rougher and I'm almost sure that this fucker hasn't touched another man in his ENTIRE life. "WHY ARE YOU NOT COMPLYING????!" He screams- screams at me. 

I don't know what to say. 
I don't want to make a crazy man who's got my dick in his hands mad. 
But... this is just years on years of training stacking onto the fact that I do not like him. And that I'm still very frightened. 

"What- am I not pretty enough for you? Do mutie sluts now have some sort of 'criteria' we have to meet???? Do you LIKE turning BETTER creatures down??? ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME ANGRY????” he yanks away from me before violently shoving me to the floor. “Can’t just enjoy a little fun- can you??? YOU HAD TO MAKE IT HARD!!!!!” He snarls before hissing, "You want something hard??? You want to make this horrible??? I will definitely comply with that! YOU wanna make me hurt??? FINE. But I'm not the only one who's gonna be bleeding, sweetheart." What??? He's not even bleeding, to begin with. 

He pulls a small knife out of his pocket-glaring at me before randomly slicing a few choice places on his arms. 

He stares at me with wide eyes. "Why would you do that?" He gasps- before slashing his face- very carefully. "Stop!!!" 

I'm completely frozen on the floor. 
He drops the knife and turns back to me. 

The shallow cuts on his face are dripping blood down his chin- he looks completely terrifying. 

He moves over to me, each step screaming violence. He snarls while slamming his foot in between my legs and pushing them open almost painfully wide. "You are going to fucking hurt." He growls. "You will LEARN how to treat your fucking superiors!!!"

He rips the briefs off- hard and with a such a sudden burst of strength that they rip. 

"Yea- you think that hurt?" He yells into my face. "YOU think YOU are better than ME??? Do you know who I fucking AM??? Do you know how LUCKY you are that I even WANT to fuck you???? I've seen you get gang fucked by five dudes at the same time. You did EVERYTHING they told you to! SO why the fuck WON'T you do WHAT I TELL YOU TO??? Are those old fuckers BETTER THAN me???? Do you think they FUCK BETTER THAN ME?" 

I am so stunned that someone could get this upset over me not having an erection. 

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT I COULD DO TO YOU???" he screams. 

I shake my head. 

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT I COULD GET AWAY WITH?????" 

I shake my head again. 

"I'M ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT PEOPLE YOU WILL EVER MEET IN YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE EXCUSE FOR AN EXISTENCE. I CAN MAKE YOU GO AWAY- FOREVER! I CAN SEND YOU SOMEWHERE SO DEEP AND SO DARK THAT YOU WILL BE BEGGING TO GO BACK TO SOME RICH ASSHOLES FUCK TOY." 

I think he's just enjoying yelling at me. 

I try to keep my eyes on him. 

"DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!!!" He screams- grabbing my chin and slamming my face into the bathroom floor. 

I have to keep my cry of surprise down. 

"That's how you're supposed to be." He growls, looming over me. "On the floor. At my feet." 

I stay low as he grabs me by the shoulder- snatching me up and slamming my back and shoulder into the wall- bending down between my legs. "Maybe you're not hard... because you don't like handjobs- hmm? Is that it? Maybe you like something... rougher? Huh? Before the main course? Maybe you just need a different kind of foreplay." He gets in my face again. "So we're going to try to do this again. With a different approach. And if you don't do what I fucking tell you to..." He grabs my throat- squeezing it. "I WILL FUCKING END YOU!" he screams before letting me go. "Do you understand?" 

I nod- feeling fear rise in my throat.

“Good.” He keeps eye contact before roughly bringing his hand between my legs. "Show some proper gratitude for the fact that I even want to fuck you." He growls before shoving three fingers into me- without any loosening me up or lube.

I hiss loudly.

“Oh Yea???" He sneers. "You don't like that??? Don't you wish you had JUST DONE WHAT I TOLD YOU TO???" His movements get much harder. "Yea- you’ll take that. Because that's what you get for being a stuck up cunt- isn't it???” He grabs my throat with his free hand- squeezing it- making it impossible to breathe. "OH yes." he groans. “Mm. Take it. Oh yes. Fuck.” He gets far more into it- far more violent. “Fuck yeah. We love our tight little fuckhole being teased- don’t we?” He groans. “Oh oh oh.” He mocks my small groans of pain. “This is just the fucking appetizer.” He adds a fourth finger- and I’m sure I’m bleeding at this point. “Moan.” He orders me. “Show me how much you like it.”

I stay silent. 

"I SAID MOAN!!!!" He screams again. 

I try to mimic what I think people sound like when they're actually enjoying sex. 

"Fuck yea." He groans again. "I'm so good. I'm the best. Taming little mutie beasties all over the fucking city. Best you've ever had." 

I find it weird that he's so into this when his dick is still completely clothed. 
He's literally... just fingering me. 

I don't know what he expects to happen... that his hands will somehow be just... magical? 

I'm scared still- yes. 
But I'm pissed. 
I'm pissed that this jackass gets away with this. 

I could scream at the idea that he's going to go around telling everyone what a great lover he is. And he's not. 

He's a monster. 
A predator. 

A wolf in sheep's clothing. 

His violent actions are getting worse- I'm decently sure with the damage he's done that if he does get around to fucking me- I will pass out from the pain. 

I guess that's when I start to feel myself breaking down. 

I try to envision myself anywhere but here- I try to fight it off. 

But this man has screamed at me. He's berated me. He's injured me...

What the fuck am I supposed to do??

“You like your little fuck hole being invaded- don’t you?” He says. “Like how loose it gets.Mm. Like it rough. Don't you? Just had to give you a little lesson... I bet you finger yourself all the time- don’t you?” He laughs. “Just laying in your bed ... thinking about all the great dick you’ve had.” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “I think you could take a whole fist- baby boy.”

Oh god, I wish he wouldn't. 

"Fucker." He growls. "Fucking piss ant. Whore. Slut. Trying to make me mad. I'm not mad. I'm better than that." He hisses. 

This man... is deranged. 

My earlier anger subsides completely. 
I'm more scared now. Of what he'll do- yes. 
But... there is not going to be a logical way for me to hide this from johnny. 

The more violent he gets- the bigger mess he makes- the louder he becomes... I can't hide this. 
I'm going to go through all of this pain and torment- and then I'm going to be punished severely because I couldn't stop him. 

"Mmm. I think we'll try to whole fist idea. I really think you could do it, sweetheart." 

I try to think of what’s going to happen afterward trying not to focus as he starts to try the intricate art that is fisting- which hurts like fuck when a professional does it and with his level of 'ability' I'm sure I will be very injured. He's laughing to himself- taunting me with a string of words I can barely hear- when a loud bang echoes through the room and he is quite suddenly repelled from me by some… invisible force. Just as the wooden door is violently burst open- throwing it from its hinges. 

I have to roll onto my side to avoid getting hit by flying debris- all of which seem to be unnaturally pressed against the wall- not hitting me even though they probably should have. I can feel the insane pain radiating from my body. 

“What the fuck!” He screeches, laying on his side holding his right arm against his chest. 
I kinda second that thought.

In the doorway, Mrs. Sue and Johnny are standing- and neither of them looks happy.

Fuck. I knew we would be caught- of course, I did.

I just... I didn't know it would happen so soon. 
I'm guilty- even if I didn't start it. 

All my confusion that surrounds my predicament is completely null and void. 
I am going to be sent to the fate that awaits all the naughty little mutant whores that can't stay loyal to the people who own them.  

“Stay the fuck where you are!” Mrs. Sue orders- voice loud.

I know she's talking to me. 
And yes- I knew they would be mad. But somehow- hearing her, the woman who's been so nice to me, yell and curse at me just makes me... weak.  I've never had a mother. Or any mother figure who's been nice to me from the get-go. 
No one ever washed my face when I was sick or helped me to bed. 

She was nothing but nice to me. 
And I did this. 

This is my fault. 

If I were to have followed the rules like I am supposed to- this wouldn't have happened. 
I am being punished for talking, for thinking of my new owner by his name, for punching him, for reading, for touching things I was not allowed to touch, for getting drunk, and for sleeping with another man. 

My sins are very well laid out in my mind. 
These are the things I will be charged with.  These are the things I will have to answer for. 
I went too far outside the rules.
I went too far outside of everything I was taught. 

And now? 

It's probably best that ends this way. 

Still, hearing Mrs. Sue so angry with me- so disappointed. So disgusted. I can't help but get a little teary-eyed. 

"How could you?" She asks angrily. Her tone could cut glass. 

I know I can't defend myself- but god. I just want to tell her that I didn't mean to. 
I didn't want this to happen.  That I wouldn't willingly do something to disrespect her and her family in their own home. or out of their home- for that matter.

All they’ve done is be nice to me and here I am in a bathroom with some other man. And no one will believe me. No one.
Why would they? I’m a whore-right?  This is what I do.

I said it myself... I don't know anything else. 

They won’t understand how dedicated I am to doing what my master's desires- how could they? I've not had a chance to prove it. If I'd done what I was told- if I'd just been the perfect mutant I was billed as when they bought me... If I hadn't thought for even the slightest second that maybe there was something more to me...

“The fuck were you thinking???” Johnny demands- loudly. “Do you know how ILLEGAL this is???”

Yes. God. I do.
I know how illegal this is.

I knew it when I took his hand. 

“You used me!!!”

I would never-
I shake my head several times.

At this point- it’s best to just try to throw myself onto the floor and hope for Johnny to be merciful.

I slowly start to try to kneel- bowing as low as possible- keeping my forehead pressed to the bathroom floor.

My body aches
I’m bleeding
I’m crying- yet again. Shaking.

I thought I could hold up better but... I can't. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you???” Johnny thunders.

I don’t know.
I don’t know how I could have stopped this. I don’t know what I can do to be better.
Should I have gotten his friend off quietly and just let him do whatever he wanted? He was only going to hurt me- right?

“Get him, Johnny!” The man who was assaulting me cries. “He’s an ungrateful little asshole! Using you up! He attacked me! While you were passed out in the other room! Don’t waste any more time- call the cops! Get this mutie locked up so he can’t hurt anyone else!”

My heart is in my throat- hammering.

“Marcus you are such a fucking asshole,” Johnny growls. “You really think I'm talking to him???”

“Who else would you be talking to?” Marcus demands. “LOOK at him! He’s naked- he had me on the floor- What other proof do you need??? This mutie is a dangerous animal and he needs to be locked up!”

“You’re so right Marcus.” Mrs. Sue says.

Hearing her say that just makes everything so much worse. Becuase… she’s been so nice to me. Really. And tried to take care of me. And what did I do? Turned around and broke her trust. Broke Johnny’s trust.
Betrayed them both in their own fucking home.

It doesn’t matter that Marcus was forcing me- I let him do it.
If I had been doing everything I could to stop him- this wouldn’t have happened.

“Yea?” He asks, smugly.

“Yea.” She nods “There is a wild animal in this room.”

Marcus laughs, looking at me even more smugly. “Just send him away.” He says. “Call the cops, they’ll have his head lopped off by noon tomorrow.”

I instinctively take my hand to my neck- not liking the idea of losing my head.

“So you think we should put the animal down?” She asks- for clarification.

“Yes, Sue,” Marcus says- like it’s just common sense. “Duh. He’s a dangerous creature. Look what he’s willing to do to ME a human- in his master’s bathroom!”

She turns to Johnny. “He’s right.” She says with a shrug. “We should put the animal down.” I feel as if my heart strops beating- My vision is hyper-focused on the floor of the bathroom. “Oh, sweetheart, not you.” Mrs. Sue says sweetly. “him.” she points at the man. “Go on and take a few breaths okay?”

He holds his hands up. “Woah! You’re calling ME an animal??? I’m the victim! He forced me!”

“Riiiigggght,” Johnny says. "By the way- your hand is coated in blood." 

Marcus looks at his hands. "It's my blood!" he says- pointing to his wounds. 

"He made you bleed.... that much? Because your wounds don't look that bloody AT ALL. And it would make sense that your face and arms would be way more fucked than they are." Johnny waits for a second. "You injured him." He says. "A lot." 

"I was protecting myself!" Marcus. cries,

"Riiiiiiight. By violating him. Yea- a totally valid form of self-defense." 

“Violate???" Marcus gasps. "I didn't violate him! He attacked me!"

"God Marcus don't make an idiot out of yourself, man." Johnny sighs. 

"It's Telepathy!" Marcus cries- sounding desperate. "He’s telepathic! HE Made me want him! HE made me do such horrible things!” He even produces a few sobs for his performance. "You don't know how awful it was, Johnny!" he sniffles. "I've never hurt anyone. I've never wanted to! You know that! Look what he made me do! What he's done! He got off on making me hurt him! So he could turn YOU against me! Look at him! He WANTED this to happen!" 

I hate the story that he's telling... but I just keep my forehead pressed against the tile.
I'm not allowed to respond. 

Johnny is going to believe whatever he wants. 

I.. just have to deal with the fallout. 

I try to keep my hiccups from the silent sobs I'm trying to continue unheard and unseen. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Johnny growls as he moves to me, crouching down. “It’s okay.” He soothes. “Oh my god, look at this blood." He gasps. "What did he do to you?" 

"Definitely wounds from penetration." Mrs. Sue says softly. "But... not ones I've ever seen before. We need to get him cleaned up to see the damage." She says gently, “I’ve got Jennifer calling some friends.” 

"He's not hurt!" Marcus calls. "It's smoke and mirrors! He's in your fucking heads!" 

"SHUT UP, Marcus!" Mrs. Sue demands- seeming to just snap. 

“Johnny man, you gotta listen to me,” Marcus says tearfully. “This one’s no good! He’s dangerous! Look what he did to me!”

“No fuckwad, I did that to you,” Mrs. Sue growls.

I've not been around her enough to see when she's hit her limit... but I'm going to guess that we are quickly approaching it. 

The pain I'm feeling- the fear- the idea that I'm going to have to be severely punished for this- 

It's all just too much. 
I'm trying my best to stay calm and doing everything I've ever been told to do when something like this happens. 
But... there are no keepers to go to. 
There are no other mutants to help me deal with the wounds. 

....there is no one in this building that I can talk to. 

Johnny runs a hand down my trembling back. “Shh shh.” he soothes.

“Man- it isn’t what it looks like!” the other man cries.

“Oh, so you didn’t drug me… find a reason to come home with me… and try to rape my mutant?”

"I think this does count as rape." Mrs. Sue says quietly. "If not- we're going to call it that anyway. Will make the reports easier and more accurate, don't you think?" 

“Reports? What reports!?? He MADE me do this!” He cries. “He’s been doing it all day! He’s telepath-”

“He’s not a telepath,” Mrs. Sue growls. “You can’t just claim a mutant is a telepath- they’re tested for that shit a hundred times over.”

“He MADE ME DO THIS!” He insists.

“Marcus fucking stop,” Johnny says, shaking his head. “When they ran you out of Cali I didn’t want to believe the rumors- I didn’t. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt- but fuck! They were all fucking true- weren't they??? You're some sick fuck who thinks he can just do what he wants when he wants it, huh??? Well, guess what asshole- this ain't fucking Cali. And you fuck with people around here? They fuck back!” Johnny yells. 

I wince at the raise in his speaking volume. 
I don't know what's going on. 
I think I'm being saved... 
But I'm decently sure that it's more to do with Marcus taking something that wasn't his than what he actually did to me. 

“Johnny man, it’s not what you think!” The man says. “look. He’s fucking with your mind! I mean- you said I drugged you? If I drugged you dude- how the fuck are standing here? See?” He points at me. “It’s more fucking mind games.”

Johnny gently strokes my shoulder. “Okay one, that’s bullshit. And two, I’m the fucking human torch- dude. I can boil blood at will. Gets rid of drugs… alcohol -you name it.” He pauses before adding, “And I don’t know what the fuck you planned to do to Steph during all of this- so yea- you’re gonna have to take that up with her. “

“I didn’t do this,” Marcus says. “I wouldn’t, man- you’re my friend! This animal doesn’t belong here! I KNOW what he’s capable of. I KNOW what he’s done- you don’t want this one! He’s a cum dumpster- trust me-”

“Holy fuck man.” Johnny hisses. “STOP. It’s NOT working!”

Johnny places his hand on my chin- helping me raise up until we’re sitting knee to knee and he’s staring over my shoulder.

“How could you do this?” Johnny asks, glancing over to him. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you! Even after all the bullshit, everyone told me you did. I’ve eaten dinner with your wife…. your kids have had playdates with Val and Franklin! How could you do this to me?”

“I’m sparing you.” Marcus insists. “That one? He’s sick. He’s diseased. You’re gonna catch AIDS if you keep him- you know that? Like… super AIDS. You don’t know what muties carry around. And THAT ONE!” He jabs his finger at me. “HE is the worst! You wanna be all sweet and nice- but you’re not.” He growls at me.

“Shut up.” Johnny snarls.

Mrs. Sue crosses her arms. “So what are we gonna do here, hmm? Are we calling the cops? You came into a man’s home- his dwelling- and assaulted his personal property.” She looks at him sternly. “Now, we can call the cops and tell them what you’ve done… and you’ll go to jail- as per the standard- or….. you can fucking get your shit and get the hell out of our home.”

The man stares daggers at me. “He wasn’t even that good.” He growls. “He’s a slut! Why do you care so fucking much? Don’t friends share things? Like bro- I let you drive my Lambo last week- remember? You can’t let me test drive your fuck toy???? He was totally into it!”

Johnny stands up, pulls his arm back and jabs it at the man and flames fly out from his fingertips. I sink further into the tile. Now not only am I naked, bleeding from very private places- but there’s a fire show over my head.

"WOAH." Marcus tries to cover his face with his arms- I can smell where the fibers of his shirt start to catch fire. 

Mrs. Sue chuckles lowly. “Look, Marcus- you can go on your own… or I can blast you through the fucking wall- either way- you’re going. Go willingly. I don’t want to call the cops and have this mess put on your wife and kid's shoulders when it all boils over. They don’t deserve that.”

Marcus jerkily stands to his feet, seething. “I’m sending you my fucking medical bill.” He spits at Johnny -running out of the room.

Johnny bends back down, “Hey there.” He says, soft and gentle. “I’m sorry.” He says. “It’s my fault you’re in this position.”

I am confused and I wonder if it’s because of all the wine I drank. I’m decently sure with how tonight has gone- that I will NEVER drink again.

Johnny is gently rubbing my shoulders- I keep my head low- unsure of how to even attempt to go about figuring this bullshit out now.

“You can get off the floor. We know you didn't do this.” Mrs. Sue says. 

I find myself glued to my spot. 

"It's okay." Johnny soothes. "We're not mad. We're not going to get you in trouble. You're not going to have to go to jail or prison or processing or whatever..." 

I feel as if maybe this whole thing would have been better if I did. 

"Hey..." He leans lower, trying to get me to face him. "Are you okay?" 

What the fuck do I say to that? 
What the fuck CAN I say to that? 

This entire system is stacked against me. 
I am only alive because these people are trying to be nice. 

Before that, I was only alive because I was making money. 

My siblings are in hell. 
My parents are either dead or don't care to rescue me. 
I have no friends. 
At this point? I don't even have another mutant I can sign with! 
If Johnny and Mrs. Sue weren't so nice- I would be dead. They would have taken my head off. 

My entire life is used for the benefit of others. 
When I stop being useful... what will happen to me??? 

I keep on the floor because I can't bear to face them. 
I can't bear to face anyone. 

This is my shitty horrible nightmare of a life. 
And it's just going to keep going and going because I can't find a way out. 

NO, not because I can't find it... because there ISN'T a way out. 

I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. 
Marcus didn't do anything that hasn't been done me before... but he so perfectly pointed out just how awful this thing is. 

How no matter where I go... or who I serve or how well I do it- I will never be human. 
I will never be an equal. 

I will always be someone's property. 
I will always be bound by someone else's will. 

I have no personhood. 
I have no sense of self. 

I am expected to sit quietly and do whatever the fuck I'm told to do- regardless of who tells me to do or what it is. 

There is no word I know that will describe this. 
There is no emotion I can name. 

This is how people die- I'm sure of it. 
They just realize that there is no winning this. You make this sacrifice over and over again- it never stops. Ever. 

I didn't realize how I was visibly reacting when I was having all of these revelations- but I am suddenly aware of the fact that I am no longer pressed to the floor. Johnny's positioned himself on the floor beside me and move my head into his lap. Not making me face him, but making to place my head on something that's not a hard floor. 

"It's okay." He says quietly. 

Mrs.Sue sits down in front of us, back against the wall. "you never really know what's going on their heads, hmm?" 

Johnny doesn't answer. 

"Could be carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders and we'd never know." She continues. 

Johnny's hand runs a constant path up my back- fingers tracing my skin in a comforting way. 

"He doesn't have anyone," Johnny says. "Anyone. In the world. He didn't scream. He didn't cry. He didn't say a word." He says bitterly, "Because he doesn't have anyone to say it to."  

Mrs. Sue is quiet for a moment before saying softly. "He has us." 

There's complete silence for a moment. I just feel exhausted and eventually close my eyes. 

"We're not much good if we can't keep creeps like Marcus away from him," Johnny says finally.

"Marcus," Mrs. Sue says- like it's a curse. "I told you I didn't like him." 

"I know." Johnny sighs. "I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt." 

"Well, I want to give him a concussion." Mrs. Sue says- very seriously

"Yea..." Johnny says laughing a little- but it's dark. "I want to fuck him up....but his wife and kids don't deserve what's going to happen if we involve the law." 

"We're so removed from what is  'expected' from us right now that calling cops into this wouldn't be good anyway." She says, somewhat sullenly. 

Johnny says quietly. "Tell Jen not to call any medical services or to cancel the call or whatever." 

"...why?" 

"I'm going to take care of him," Johnny says gently. "In a human way. I don't want some assholes to come in and start making him feel bad." 

Mrs. Sue is quiet before saying. "... are you sure?" 

"Uh-hmm," Johnny says. "He's got a healing factor- the damage will heal. I don't think he needs to feel like a 'thing'. Ever again. Just... Let me help him out- okay?" 

"Sure." Mrs. Sue says. She stands to her feet and stalls for a moment. "Are you sure he'll be okay?" 

Johnny gently rubs my neck. "Yea- He'll be okay." He says. "I've texted Trish a script that I thought we would need... can you let me know when it gets here?" 

"Of course." Mrs. Sue goes to the door. "I'm sorry this happened to you hun," she says softly. "But I promise- it will never happen again." 

She's gone when I glance where she was standing.

"I'm going to get some pain meds." He says, quietly, yet firmly. "And some sleep aids. I already sent the message to have them delivered... we have access to a 24/7 pharmacy that never asks questions. So yea- they should be here before bed." 

I stay silent, face down on his thigh. 

"Look..." Johnny says. "I get that you think a certain way. I do. And the fact that Marcus was able to do this to you kinda just really drives it home. I heard him in the room but I thought I was dreaming... it took me a minute to figure it out. So I'm sorry I let you down." 

Him? 
Sorry? 

For... this? 

"I know that I can't make you break all your rules." He continues. "I don't know if they make you feel safe... or if you're too afraid of what will happen.... but...you're not alone anymore... you don't have to carry all of this. You don't have to just blindly accept a role that you were assigned. You didn't ask for it. You didn't do anything to deserve it. You don't have to feel like you're trapped in some kind of dystopian nightmare." 

My whole life is a dystopian nightmare. 

"I don't want you to feel like shit." He says. "I don't want you to be constantly scared. I don't want you to be... miserable." 

I don't want to be any of those things either. 
But... it's just how it is. 

"Things can change." He says before pausing. "No- they HAVE to change. And the only way we can change them- the only way we can make this better for everyone... is to start small. Do you understand?" 

I shake my head. 

"WE, you and I, can start to change things." He says. "Privately. We'll do what we are expected to do- yea. BUT we'll do it humanely. I'll protect you... and you .. can maybe start feeling like a person?" He asks. "Whatever progress we do or don't make- I just.. believe that you deserve something better. Publically, we'll act the minimal amount of douche- okay? We won't be able to be as sweet as in private- but we'll figure something out." 

I don't understand. 

I don't understand at all. 

"We can start with this. As a kinda .... act of good faith." He says lowly. "I..heard... " He stops. "Marcus is a dumbass." He says. "And he actually left a voice memo of what was happening here in a text. Ya know how phones have that little record button by the text box now? The one that gets on everyone's nerves?" 

When I don't move he sighs. "Right no phones. So there's a capability some phones have of recording messages- like ya know, voice recording? So Marcus shoved his phone wherever and it managed to get some choice sound clips. One of which was him saying what he did to your sisters...?" 

I feel my chest ache again. 

"I can't find the older one....especially if she's aged out," he says. "But there are only a few processing factories. I can try to maybe find the younger one? If she's under 18 we have a pretty decent shot of finding her... or learning what happened to her. If you let me know what she looks like? Or... I dunno. I have some friends who can help. If he was telling the truth there's really only a few places she can be...if you want... I can try to use my influence to help her." 

What...? 

To...

Why would he do that? 

"As a promise that we're going to start changing things," Johnny says. "That I WANT to start changing this bullshit." He starts to stroke my head. "I can't start on random mutants.... it won't work. But... I can start with you." He says. "Teach you... the things you aren't supposed to know? Teach you how to... stand up for yourself? Help you save your siblings.... get them safe and away from the people who would hurt them...?" 

I don't know what to say. 
I mean- I can't say anything. 

"I didn't understand how terrible what was happening to you- mutants in general. I was given a small idea but.... none of these people understand what is actually happening. I mean..." He stops. "Look- there are some people who want to help. Let's just leave it there- okay? They have ways to reveal what's really happening. And... I think if I can spend our years together helping you and making sure you're able to face down all of this shit..." 

There's.... people .... outsiders.... who... want to help us? 

"I can't promise anything will work with your little sister." He says. "But I can try." 

I don't understand. 

I don't-

"Do you know her name?" He asks. 

I shake my head. 

"Do you know what she looks like?" 

I think. 

Johnny takes my hand- holding it tightly. "I'm going to help you." He says. "Things are GOING to change. Alright?" 

I wonder what brought this out... 
I mean... he says someone told him. 
But who? 

He helps me sit up, putting his hand on my face. "I'm going to help you." He repeats. "Because I want to. You don't owe me anything. You don't have to repay me. This isn't a debt that's going to hang over your head. I just..." he looks down. "It's just the right thing to do. Okay?" 

I can't process everything at once. 
I'm breaking it down piece by piece. To be honest- I'm still kinda hung up on the actual assault that Marcus was attempting. 

There's a buzz coming from Johnny's pocket. He pulls out his phone and looks at the screen. 
"The pills are here," he says. "Let's get you drugged up- hmm? Then I'll help you get cleaned up. I don't want to start adding pressure and shit until you've got a good dose of pain meds." 

I nod. 

He looks up at me. "Tomorrow, we're going to sit down and figure some stuff out. Okay? Important stuff." 

Oh? 

he nods. "So I want you to get some sleep tonight. I'll stay with you all night- make sure you're okay. And when you're ready... we'll get started." 

As cryptic as that sounds...
I nod. 

"Cool." He says. 

Chapter Text

Down a dark hallway and through an intricately designed collection of tunnels that span the entire underside of a coliseum, there is a room.

A holding room.

More accurately, a room that holds the condemned in one place- powerless as they wait for their turn at ‘judgment’.

It’s a very small room- dark and dank with the sound of unspecified dripping that rings out a hundred times louder than it should be- ticking down the seconds with each rhythmic drop.

Inside of the darkroom, I wait on a small cot- barred in by a closed cell door and held in place to my cot by large chains. The cot is barely a cot and I can smell the piss and sweat almost dripping from the scratchy gray surface.

As the seconds tick by- I feel an inexpressible amount of dread in the pit of my stomach.
This is not a place you want to be in.

…..Ever.

Outside of the bars of the cell, there are large letters written in blood on the wall- dark red and dripping to the floor. Fresh blood, at that. I can see it slowly trickle down the wall even through the general darkness- as if the wall itself were wounded.

Underneath the larger letters are just… lines of text.

I don’t know what they say. The longer I look, the more text is added.

But…
I recognize more letters than I should.

If I could read- maybe these letters would prove to be useful…
Instead- they’re just mocking me.

Look what you could have had.
What you could have learned.
….look what you have traded all of your training for.

…..a half-assed attempt at knowledge you were never meant to have.

In another cell- I hear a woman screaming. It’s so loud and sudden that I flinch.
Time moves slowly as the woman screams- over and over again. Loud, scared, and somehow angry. It sounds like she’s either being heavily tortured… or giving birth.
Which I guess for a place like this would be one and the same.

Scream after scream reaches my ears- building up to something. Something unknown and somehow unreachable. As if she’s just going to suffer knowing that she’ll never receive whatever she’s hoping for.

Through the bars, I can see the form of a woman- shadow-like and frail. She doesn’t fade into existence exactly. It feels more like she’s been there the whole time. Unnoticed.

…she just stares at me.
And stares.
And stares.

Accusingly.
Judgily.

I want to say something- but I can’t.
I’m mute- and not by choice, this time. My tongue feels like it’s made of cement- I couldn’t talk if I wanted to.

The woman is absolutely drenched in blood, mostly around the bottom part of a white gown- a birthing gown, if I remember right. The only part of her person that’s colorful at all is a bright red mark across her neck and the dark red blood on the gown.

The screaming stops. I can only imagine that it was coming from her.
I look at her and feel it… with every bit of my person.
This woman?
….She hates me.

And I think I know why.

Why she would be in this exact place- suffering...Inflicting her pain upon me.

She’s here… because I’m here.
She suffers because I live.

All I want is for her to be at peace.

….which as long as I’m alive….. she can’t be.

…I’ve never seen a picture of my mother...but I feel that with every part of my being that this is her.

And… It's my fault she’s dead.

She’s angry at me from beyond the grave.

And that makes sense because I’m a genetic abomination- a comic error and a fuck up of nature herself- she had to die.

She had to die having me. Giving me a life that she could have had elsewhere.
Giving me the air from her own lungs.

She could have been happy…
She could have been free.
But...

… she had me.

I am an unfortunate product of a failed abortion.

Not a medical procedure though. It’s an abortion nature should have granted her. Mutants were not meant to be.

….I was not...
...meant to be.

She’s telling me that at the end of it all… she’ll get her revenge and she’ll finally have the peace I’ve stolen from her.
She will finally rest.

And honestly? I owe her that much.

Her form fades- replaced by a man in a large black cloak- solid. He stands tall- seven feet at least, in the space she was.

He’s wordless.
Faceless.
…..cold.

My assigned escort into the afterlife.

This is not a trial.
This is not a hearing.

This?

This is justice. Human justice.

Cold and swift.
... Humans are efficient like that.

He opens the cell door- moving it aside as if it were weightless and stepping inside the small room. His head seems to brush the ceiling- just showing how large he is compared to me. As if I
needed to feel any smaller.

He pauses before grabbing up my chains tugging me out of the cell- through the hallways- up towards the light. Up towards the sun.

Up, up, up.
To fresh air.
To sunlight.
To everything that a person should look forward to seeing.

….fucked how at this moment I’m given such a ‘pure’ feeling...when I’m about to be presented with all of my crimes.

I feel the sun.
I feel the heat.
I see blue sky as I’m pulled through a large door and into a large dirt pit.

The sky seems to get darker the second my feet hit the dirt.

The ground beneath me is wet and muddy- it squishes underfoot as I stare at the large wooden stage standing before me.

The mud has a distinct red tint to it and it smells like blood.
… I wonder why.

The stage has a hole in the very middle. It barely conceals a ‘storage’ area beneath it- obviously meant to hold the bodies of whoever dies on the stage. You can see it underneath the stage.

It’s an efficient system, I guess. However, it reeks. Even from where I’m standing the smell of death drenches the air, almost like humidity.

There’s the sound of distant drums- playing that melody that adds just that much more fear the
situation.

….This is the last thing mutants see.
….the last thing they hear.

With all my crimes recently… I don’t know what I expected.

I’ve failed my owner.
….I’ve been with other men.
….I’ve done things I knew not to do.
Struggled. Read. Spoke.

…I dared to think for even a second that I may have been worth something…. at least worthy of some sort of kindness.

It was only a second… a split second- even.
And it’s sealed my fate.

I forgot everything I had ever been taught.

No- not forgot. Rejected.

What did I think would happen? How can I not have expected that I would end up here?
Didn’t I even tell myself that my crimes would end in death?

I’m shoved into motion- taken to the side of the stage and awkwardly forced up three large steps until I’m standing just a few inches from the hole.

I wish I’d never left my stable. I wish I’d been sold to someone else.
Not to a family of people who were decent to me.

…. I don’t deserve that.
At all.
I’ve been saying it since I got here- haven’t I?

….but I slipped up. I felt something other than fear.

Other than respect.

…. I genuinely liked these people.

… I’m not allowed to do that.
And I KNOW that. Or… I guess I knew that? I mean- it doesn’t matter now.

The large man shoves me to my knees on the stage- face pointed down at the wood- which, like the letter on the wall outside of the cell, is also stained red.

…blood, death, and fear- the only things I am completely sure of in this life.

The stage is empty -save the man who brought me here and a smaller man with a large blood-red book in hand, hovering over some sort of tree stump at his feet. This is the most blood-drenched item I’ve yet to see.

This man is old. Crooked nose- frail form. His skin is pale and spotted- almost yellow in some places... like old paper.

This elderly man looks down at me in disgust. He opens said book- trailing his fingers down the page- finding what he’s looking for and directing something to me, which I can tell by the way he points at me.

….The trouble is I can’t hear him. I can’t make out a single damn word. It’s almost as if he’s not speaking English.

When I don’t respond- he angrily throws the entire book at me- it skids to a stop a few inches from my hand. I can’t read what’s written- just a swirl of numbers and letters. The ink is blood. I see it, I smell it.

He’s so angry.
...like Marcus last night.

I stare at the man hopelessly as he spits his judgment in my face.
He’s shouting angrily.
Loudly.
He jabs his finger in my direction repeatedly.

… his actions are very animated. Like he’s giving a speech directed at my failures.

The drums beat louder and louder- the rhythm becoming more erratic.

The man who dragged me out here grabs my shoulder- lifting me and forcing me further on stage- placing me behind the stump.

He’s got a huge ax in his hands now. Sharp. Shining. It doesn’t matter where it came from…. I knew it was coming.

It has its last victim’s blood still clinging to its sharp blade. I kinda wished they’d at least cleaned it.

The drums are almost deafening at this point.

I’m pushed to my knees, not having been low enough, I suppose. My head and neck are placed just so on the stump. Not only can I smell the blood- but I can feel it.

The stump is still damp. It’s a gross and a final insult. I’m not even worth having my own special execution…. just an unknown mutant among a sea of other unknown mutants.

Nothing is special about me.
Nothing is worthwhile.
I have nothing to offer the world.
I have no way to change it.
I am nothing.

A bastard child of a man who doesn’t even know me and a woman he left to die.

I’m a hole to fuck.
A mouth to suck.
A voiceless toy for whatever use I’m needed for.

Why did I ever even think for a millisecond that someone cared about me?

Marcus was right…. I’ll never be human.

...I’ll never be worthwhile.

The man who was holding the book is still yelling at me- and I still don’t understand.

The bloody woman from before is in the mud- staring at me.

My mother. Judging me.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t deserve to cry.
But… I’m 18.
Just 18.

I’m supposed to feel like an adult.. but I don’t.
….and I’m scared.

The executioner stands behind me. Completely still before lifting his ax above high above his head. The drums are louder than anything- overtaking the shouting man.

I hear screaming…and drums… and smell blood and death- in front of me is the opening to the storage pit that’s holding the dead bodies.

I see my brother and a small girl that looks just like what I think my youngest sister looks like.
I know I haven’t seen these people in recent days… but I also know it’s completely my fault that they’re in that pit.

You don’t drag people down with you.
You stay distant to keep people safe.

The yelling man is still yelling- pointing his boney fingers to me. Behind him, there is a crowd of people in stands that I did not notice before.
In the middle- Johnny.

God- I liked him.
I really liked him.
I want to go to my grave thinking that he may have liked me just a little.

..But… it’s obvious he doesn’t.

I close my eyes and listen- waiting.

Waiting…
waiting…

“Get on with it then.” I hear the woman in the mud say impatiently.

I jolt awake- eyes flying open, panicking when the drums keep pounding my ears though they’re softer now. Steadier.
God- where am I?
Where is the woman?
Where is the shouting man?

Where is the ax?????

I try to get my bearing- feeling tears slowly drip down my face.

I can’t move- I’m being restrained.
My face is hot with tears and…
Wait.
Just.. hot. Like I’ve fallen asleep in the sun… or been placed against a heater.

The ‘restraints’ are a soft pressure- moving around my back.
My arms are weakly pressed against someone-

OH.
….Oh.

I’m pressed against someone’s chest.
They’re not ‘restraining’ me, they’re just rubbing my back.

…

Someone is…. holding me. That’s what this is- I’m pressed against someone’s chest.
The drums are not drums at all… it’s the sound of a heartbeat.

Why on earth would anyone want to hold me while I slept?

I always imagine that any physical comforts like this are reserved for men and women who are together- together. Husbands and wives- mainly.

…you don’t usually pet your aide- no matter what job they do.
But…. he…. is?.

Ever so gently rubbing my back, fingers warm against my bare skin.

Why the affection?
What have I given him to deserve this treatment?

People don’t act like this without having been given something.

….I’ve only been ‘comforted’ after really rough fucks. And even then… that was few and far between.

...this doesn’t feel like someone helping me relearn how to breathe- though.
This doesn’t feel like someone making me drink water or cleaning me up after going four or five clients at the same time while they all refused to wear condoms. This isn’t someone who’s trying to address a pressing health concern.

...they’re just comforting.

Not they- HE. He’s just comforting me.

…maybe he’s already fucked me?
That’s not unheard of.

….and maybe that’s for the best?
…..maybe he’s rewarding me for being a good fuck?

Maybe I did something right after all.

I dare to quickly glance up at my owner- trying to understand what he requires of me at this moment. I’m not really on top of my game after dreams like that… so I need to figure it out quickly.

My mother is mad at me.
My siblings will die because of me.
….I can only do justice to the woman I owe my very life if I give it back to her.
Leave this world to make room for someone else.
Someone.. more important with a better chance of being a decent person and changing things.

I know I don’t deserve to cry- but I still feel unable to stop the tears.

I know it was a dream. A nightmare.
They happen A LOT.

But anytime I dream about my mother…I just can’t help but sob upon waking up because she’s never happy to see me. She never WANTS to see me.

….she just wants me to know that by coming into this world… I made her depart.

She gave her life to me...and I’ve wasted it.

I can’t imagine what it’s like for a person who has a mother to disappoint her… but I know what it feels like to have lost one and have the blame squarely placed on your shoulders.

… someone died to make me and I have no way to repay them.

I have nothing to give that hasn’t already been taken a thousand times.
And what is something worth if everyone can have it anytime they please?

When I glance up to watch my master, I notice that his eyes are not on me at all. He’s got his cellphone held in his free hand- out in front of him as he scrolls through what seems to be random pictures- not paying a bit of attention.

I’m pressed to his chest- my body curled up semi in his lap.
It’s…nice.

He doesn’t look like he needs me. I’m betting again that he’s already used me so he doesn’t feel any sense of urgency at the moment.

Which is… fine.

I need to be able to do my job 24/7.
Asleep or not.

He is saying something that takes me a minute to catch on to. Gentle things… comforting things.

….no one does this for me.
…why would they?

What does it matter if I’m upset? My feelings are irrelevant.
That’s just… how it is.

I can’t deny that I am enjoying the softness of this moment, though.

His warm fingers on my back and shoulders…. the soft material of t-shirt under my face…It’s not usual… at all. But it is probably the best feeling I’ve ever had after waking from a nightmare.

He looks down at me after a very long moment and smiles, seeming to notice me at long last. “Hey there.” He says, “You ah.. had a nightmare.” He laughs a little. “I’m not the best at being comforting but uh… I gave it a shot. “ He gently wipes some tears off of my face. “It’s okay.” he soothes.

The dream has me completely shook.
My nightmare…. is every mutant's nightmare.

It’s a joint phobia we’ve all had beaten into us over the years.
No matter what class. No matter what stable.

We all know to fear the drums.
The dirt.
The stage.

…and the ax.

We’ve seen pictures if not videos of executions all of our lives.

Pictures hung in our shared spaces. Warnings.

….with all of our delicate rules and the roles we’re expected to play… mutants don’t get to live to old age.

Everyone fucks up eventually. Or just falls out of favor… I guess.

If you’ve served well, I think they just euthanize you via some kind of shot...if you’ve fucked up too much- you get the ax.

Either way… you don’t see many mutants past their 50s.

Another fact of our lives.
It is… what it is.
….And it will be what it will be.

“It’s okay.” He soothes, rubbing his hand up my back- not sexual just… comforting. “Shh shh.”

He keeps me on his chest and in his lap.

I … don’t get held like this.

...I... like it.

I take my hand and rest it on his shoulder- wondering if this is okay.

After a few seconds, I get the feeling that it’s not, so I go to pull it back- only to be stopped by him holding it with his hand- keeping me still. He puts his phone down, dropping it beside him on the bed. “You can get comfier if you like.” He says, “I don’t mind.”

I stare at him- trying to decide what to do. I would love to be embraced right now.
Really.

But… I don’t know what’s okay and what isn’t.
As nice as Johnny is… he still hasn’t set up the guidelines he wants me to follow.

He grins before physically rearranging me- my head on his chest, hand on his shoulder, knees and legs in his lap, while he wraps both his arms around me. “You’re a lot cuddlier when you wake up.” He laughs. “Did you know that?”

I shake my head.

Because no one has ever bothered to ‘cuddle’ me when I wake up.

“Mm-hmm.” He holds me steady, I can hear his heart and feel the rise and fall of his chest.

I can still see that pit- the faces of my siblings. The red slit on my shadow mother’s throat….I feel like I’ll be cursed with these images for the rest of my life….even though they’re not real.

“I used to have really bad nightmares.” He says after a moment of silence. “After my mom died. Like- super bad ones. Ya know… there’s a certain … I don’t know.. trauma that comes with …” He laughs again. “Well- trauma. I ran through like a thousand scenarios every single night after waking up. How I could have helped her. What could have gone differently? How if I had done something different maybe it wouldn’t have happened. ”

Oh?
...he also dreams of a dead mother?

...did he ever get to meet her, though?

“She died kinda suddenly.” He says. “I was small-ish. I didn’t really get to see her before it happened…. I was just sat down and told that she wouldn’t come home. Ever.”

….fuck.

I think that may be even sadder than not having a mother at all.

“You get caught up in this cycle when shit like that happens- you know? You can’t get the thoughts out of your head- and even though I never saw the actual scene or my mom until the funeral… I would have these god awful dreams of seeing it from the sidelines. Over and over again. And I would freak out for hours when I woke up. And I mean HOURS. Almost every night. I wasn’t sleeping well at all. Going to bed felt like torture.” He continues. “But I was always really quiet about it all… I didn’t want anyone to hear me. I never wanted to worry anyone…. so I decided to just not say anything. To make everything seem like it was alright and it worked. No one suspected a thing for a while. Holding it in didn’t make the nightmares go away, though. It didn’t make me happier.”

I stare at him, trying to follow where exactly he wants to take our conversation with this story.

“So this went on for like…a year… I think. Until one night when I had a monster of all nightmares- like a MEGA nightmare- Sue happened to be up and moving... and she heard me.”

I keep my face buried in his chest.
It must be nice to have a sibling like that.
Someone who lives in the same house as you.

Someone who… cares.

“So, she came to my room and just… ya know… held me. She fussed at me for not coming to her sooner… I didn’t realize until that point that I just needed someone to hold me and tell me that it was going to be okay.” He chuckles. “And after that, for a while, she made me up a bed in her room until the nightmares eased up.”

….

I know he’s trying to make me feel a little better. …but I’m actually a little saddened by seeing the strength of a sibling bond that I will never be able to have.

“They got easier to handle when I let someone else know what was going on.” He says. “And eventually, I was able to deal with some of the fucked up shit I felt after Mom was gone… I mean, I still feel it. Not every day but… frequently. But because I had someone else to talk to- to grieve with… it got more bearable.”

I can imagine it would. All of my ‘grieving’ has been done in silence…even in a room full of others who knew exactly how I felt and what I was going through.

“When I came in and heard you whimpering… I kinda guessed that you needed to be held- too. Doubt you’ve had someone just… hold you and tell you things were going to be alright…. I guess cause for you, nothing has ever been alright. I was going to let you sleep but I heard you… and … I couldn’t not try to help.”

Heard me??

I can’t help but freak out a little.

He glances down at me. “You whimper in your sleep.” He says gently. “And talk a little. That’s how I knew you were upset. I swear, no one like… did any freaky invasive mental thingies.”

That… is not good.

“You have a very pretty speaking voice- even when you're scared,” He says, smiling a little. “You should use it more often.”

He …heard me.
He… isn't mad?

…that whole dream as about me letting everyone down.
My siblings.
My mother
And him.

….how can he not be mad that I was so obviously breaking one of the major rules??

“You talked about your mom.” He says gently. “And blood.”

I find it hard to look at him.

“...did you ever get to meet her?”

I just glance at him before shaking my head- another tear finding its way down my cheek.

He pauses. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really, sorry.”

Sorry?

A human?
An owner?

...sorry?

“You just take all this damage- don’t you? You never say anything…. you only talk when you sleep…. you just take it and take it.” He pauses. “I really admire that. That you’re this strong. I just wish you’d learned how to do it without all this bullshit.”

God.
Me too.
Me...too.

“I would really like to help you…” He says gently. “If you’ll let me.”

...let him?
Like I have a say in anything?

This whole conversation- the dream beforehand… last night…I feel like if I do the wrong thing- it will all disappear and I’ll find myself back on that stage- this all having been a dream.

I’ll be waiting for the ax to drop.

….which I mean… I guess I already am. I know what happens to mutants.

….every action I perform to please my humans just delays the executioners swing. There’s so much dread within me right now that I don’t even know how to properly address it.

...how do you make yourself feel better about all of this when you know it’s real and imminent reality?

...They never even gave me a name. A number. A nickname.
They’ll have nothing to put on a gravestone.

...Just my parent’s codename. A small marking. Shared genetics that in the end meant absolutely nothing.

….no one will remember me. They’ll literally have nothing to do so by.

To distract myself from my overwhelming sense of dread, I look out of his window instead of at him. Outside the sky is dark- so dark that you would think it’s night- but I can see rain and lightning, so I’m guessing it’s just a storm.

A bad one, from the looks of it.

He sees me looking away and gently pats my back. “Storm breakers.” He says softly, glancing from the window back to me. “They’re filling a dam up. They’ve been at it for a few hours now… something happened to cause major damage a while back and they’ve been trying to fix it for a few weeks now.”

Storm breakers.
Aka- weather manipulators.

Crops need water? They bring rain.
Dams dry up? They fill them.

I've never seen them in action though.

“They uh, usually use three or four at a time.” He says, “When they’re all working together- the sky will stay dark for hours…”

As if on cue, thunder booms through the air- making me jump.

“Shh shh. It’s okay.” He says gently. “It is… okay…. just a little thunder.”

The storm outside is awful. Easily the worst one I've seen.

Why are they filling a dam so close to a city?

….what happened that would make them have to rebuild something THIS close to a heavily populated HUMAN area?

“Sooo….how are you feeling?” He asks, gently changing the subject.

I don’t know how to respond.
Everything that’s happened between when I was last awake and now…. just seems odd and disjointed. Like logically- I know what happened and what order it happened in.
But… it’s not making any sense to me.

“Come onnnn…” He teases. “You can talk to me. It’ll make you feel a little better.”

“…”

What can I say?
How can I say it?

“Look- we said we were going to change things….right? And that it had to start with us... And I mean, I’ve already heard you talk a bunch while you were sleeping. So….can you please talk to me?”

I keep my head on his chest- unable to respond.

“Come on… “ he prompts. “Tell me something.”

His playful nature reminds me a little of Jimmy trying to get me to speak.

…I kinda miss him.

I can’t help but glance up only to see Johnny glancing down- a soft look in his eyes.

“It's okay.” He says again. “Trust me- at this point, we’re planning to break so many rules that you talking will be the least of our worries.”

He’s… right.

Of course he’s right. He probably knows a shit ton more than I do on any given subject.

“Sooo…” He coaxes. “How are you feeling?”

….

“It would really help me out if you would tell me how you feel.” He says. “There’s some stuff we have to get done… and how we do it kinda depends on how you’re feeling.”

Stuff?
…what kind of stuff?

“…”

“It can be a single word answer.” He says, “Good… bad…. meh?”

There’s a long moment that feels like an eternity.

“I promise not to tell,” He says, holding his hand up. “Scouts honor.”

…I don’t really know what that means.
But…

“….bad,” I whisper- feeling that same sense of dread the nightmare brought as soon as the word leaves my lips.

I almost want him not to hear me… at all.

“Bad?” he repeats.

I nod- ashamed of having said anything at all. Let alone a complaint… or anything even remotely negative.

“Care to elaborate?”

I shake my head- pressing my face back into his chest.

"Thank you for telling me,” he says- sounding happy. “So… is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

I shake my head again.

Johnny gently rubs up my back again. “You've been asleep for almost half a day.” He says quietly. “Since you took the pills last night.” He pauses. "You must be hungry. I’ve not seen you eat since you got here.”

He’s right.
It’s not the proper time yet, though.
It has to be…. Wednesday.

And… shit.
SHIT.
SHIT. SHIT.
….I don't know what day it is.

How can I know what I'm supposed to do or when I don't know what day I’m on?

….fuck.

“I can make you something.” He offers. "Some soup? Or some … breakfast? Lunch? What are you in the mood for?”

Talking is one thing.
….Asking for food?

As in telling someone what I want to eat???? Telling my OWNER what I want to eat??? Making demands- ANY demands of a human???

…that’s not possible.

That doesn’t happen. I can’t do that.
No.

In light of the nightmare and all of the bullshit… no.
No. I can’t do that.

I’m not allowed to do that.

This has to be a test. A test that I will not fail.
..ever.

“Okay,” he sighs, not sounding annoyed really, but… definitely something. “Look- we've got to do something about the talking.” He says, “I don’t want to keep pressuring you about it, but If we’re going to work together I need to know what you're thinking or what you want to do. That’s just how partnership goes- you know? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on. And I WANT to help.” He stares at me, his expression is soft and… earnest. “Can you please speak to me? Only me? I won’t tell anyone- not even the family. Whatever you say will stay completely between us. And it will just make everything super easy- ya know? We can’t write secret notes because you can’t read yet. So you need to tell me verbally what’s going on. You don't have to say a single word outside of these walls.” He motions to the room. “But...please…. I feel like you’ve been through so much in such a short period…I need to verbally make sure you’re alright.”

He looks at me with just… such a look of softness.

Fuck.

I’ve got to talk to him.
Besides the fact that he wants to 'help' me, he’s giving me a direct order. An order that conflicts with everything I’ve been taught my ENTIRE life.

He’s gently strumming his fingers on my shoulder.
What the fuck do I say????
I don’t know what day it is.
I’m decently sure that any food he does have here isn’t approved food.
….approved food is important. It’s all I’ve been eating for the last eighteen years.

….I’m worried if I try other things… I’ll get sick. After last night’s wine incident… I really don’t want to get sick again.

But… he’s told me to speak to him. He’s begged me to speak to him. His new orders override the old ones… but I’ve been taught to obey the old orders are all costs.

….but I’ve already broken most of them anyway.

So.. fuck.
FUCK!

What should I do? What the fuck should I do?

I can’t go breaking core orders...not after having a dream of what’s going to happen if I get caught. If… Johnny gets caught.

The fuck do I do?
What the fuck do I do????

“Please talk to me.” He says gently. “Please.”

FUCK.

“I’m-“ My brain is screaming at me as I try to form a simple sentence. “not.”

No. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. This isn’t something that’s allowed.

NONE of this is allowed.

It’s a test.
FUCK.
It’s a test.

I can’t fail. I can’t let myself screw up this badly.

“...you’re not what?” He prods gently. “...can you tell me, please?”

I know how to speak- and now I’m worried that my only speaking in choppy words he’ll think I’m an idiot. I’d like to think I know how to speak pretty well- I mean… I know a lot of big words…. my vocabulary can be pretty impressive…. I guess. ...but…. I don’t do the whole ‘verbal’ thing often. So infrequently, in fact, that outside of my head… I don’t even know what I sound like.

“You’re not what?” He repeats.

FUCK.
FUCK.

...fuck.

“Hungry,” I say- very very quietly.

Please don’t hear me.
Please don’t hear me.
Please don’t hear me.

“You’re not hungry?” He asks, gently.

I shake my head.

No. He heard me.

I’ve said less than seven words…. but I feel like each one I’ve uttered is going to be carved into my skin.

It is literally THAT painful.
...just to speak.

“Alright. Thanks for telling me.” He pauses. “How are your injuries?”

No. Not another answer. Another word.
Why is he doing this to me???

This is so insanely painful for something THIS trivial.

“….Better,” I whisper- voice cracking even at the low volume.

“Better?” He repeats. “That's good- I’m glad. I’m sorry you feel bad though.”

I close my eyes and just hear him- his body, his breathing, the small noises his sheets make when he shifts around on the bed.

…these are comforts that I’m not supposed to have.

Everything these people have given me is things I’m not supposed to have…and I’m kinda starting to treasure them.

“Maybe… this will help you feel a little better.” He says.

What will make me feel better?

“After last night, I knew I had to do SOMETHING to help- ya know, more than pulling that asshole off of you. Which I don’t want you to worry about,” He says. “Marcus can’t tell a single soul ‘his’ side of the story. Because he’d be locked up instantly for ‘stealing’ from another man. No matter what lies he tries to bullshit his way through, he’s guilty of breaking like… a really important law. So he can’t tell anyone how you acted or how we saved you from what happened. His hands are tied…. and with the help of Ben, I think he’ll be feeling just a little less welcome in this city… So he’s probably going to be heading out realllll soon. I can promise that you’re never going to see him again.”

Well…. that is comforting.
…..And I guess that is something that makes me feel better.

“But that’s really got nothing to do with this.” He says dismissively. “I mean it does- but it doesn’t. I got pissed that he got away with that… and ended up kinda just being pissy for a while… and then I kinda ended up looking over your paperwork…? And like… Marcus was just one of the hundreds of dudes that you had absolutely no way to protect yourself from. And… that’s not fair. And I was pissed on my account and then I was livid on your account and-“ He takes a deep breath, which is good because he was talking pretty fast. “My point is that when you can’t get even, get petty.” He says, “I wanted to take something back from the people who had taken so much shit from you… and all these other innocent people. Soooo, I started digging. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this- or if you remember me talking about it before now… or how much you remember of last night- but there are actually A LOT of people who want to change the system. A LOT. Even more than I think you’d imagine. So, I talked to a friend. And he talked to a friend. And then that friend talked to her husband... who talked to his cousin, who talked to his mechanic, WHO happens to be the wife of the man who's the brother of the local storm breakers facility.”

okay... fuck that was confusing.

"And they have a little girl…dark-skinned. White hair, blue eyes… and she - supposedly- has some kind of healing ability.” He pauses. “Like you.”

I’m glad my eyes are closed- he can't see the hope that's threatening to bubble out of me.

“We need to get her info.... but….. since you are mine and Reed is free to purchase any mutants he wants… he can, and is willing, to go get her. And.. bring her here. He can pass it off as buying a young girl to help Sue around the house. Which is a thing. And because Sue is so powerful and well-loved by practically everyone, no one will ever think twice about letting her go to a house with a sibling.

He pauses for a long bit. “The entire fucking grapevine I just mentioned managed to send me picture…. but it’s not great. If you looked at it could you tell if it was her?”

I mean... Maybe.

I shrug.

He picks up his phone anyway. “Okay.” He turns his phone on by touching the finger touch thing- I’m not sure what it's called. He scrolls through a few pictures until he reaches a very small girl- not only young but she's underfed as well. Her striking white hair is hanging choppily around her face- long strands mixed in with shorter ones. It’s a hairstyle that says she most likely hacked it off herself. Her face is grimy- her lips in a snarl. She’s got the collar on- the one they use on high voltage mutants.

Blue eyes stare back at me…. the same eyes that I have. The same eyes that Jimmy has. And the sister before- though hers were green. In the text, beneath her picture- is a quick shot of her files. It’s got our family’s marking. Our letters. I quickly point to it- so quickly that I knock the phone out of his hands.

“Woah!" He laughs, trying to catch it as best he can while holding me on his lap. He looks at what I’m pointing to. “That’s… your mark?” He asks gently.

I nod quickly.
Yes.
That’s her. That’s got to be.
There are no mistakes in filing.
Ever.

“I don’t know how the fuck I always miss that.” He says, shaking his head. “That one looks… weird. Like..” he stops, staring down at me. “no fucking way.” He whispers.

I look at him in confusion.

“...no fucking way.” He repeats.

I try to touch the phone again.

“You’re….” He stops. “Do you even know-” He stops again. “What I mean is-” He inhales deeply. “Do you know who that code stands for?”

….my father?

I nod.
….who else would I be filed under? Why is he so confused? 
I thought he understood this... I mean, I thought everyone understood this. 

...but most especially humans. 

He quickly backs out of the image on his phone and starts to text someone- pretty quickly, too. Of course, I can't read it so he doesn't bother to hide it. 

He gets almost an immediate response which he reads while mumbling, "They said x-baby.... not Logan baby." 

I don't know that name? I've only ever heard Weapon X. 

...I honestly don't even really know what that means. 

"God. How the fuck did this happen?" he says- almost in awe.  He looks me over as if he’s just discovered something profound.“Your…. dad is like….” he lets out a quiet exhale. “Really really well known…. around certain parts.”

….like in the wild?

Of course he is, he’s an x-man. I thought they were all well known.

“I mean…. he's infamous.” He stops- trying to understand what he's saying as he's saying it. “He’s been moving mutants out of borderline towns FOR YEARS.” He stares down at me. “He’s...fuck. A dude you do not want to end up on the wrong side of.”

….he’s been saving mutants?

...for years? 

“I mean- there’s a pit that’s pretty much empty at this point- like shutting down. There are no mutants to run it. And every time a new shipment comes... they're gone within four months. Your old man is in charge of that...they can't be stopped because when they come through... none of the humans who try to stop them make it out...alive." 

My father...kills... humans? 

On purpose?  He just kills them??  How the fuck do you do that??? 

WHO the fuck would do that???? 

He's got to be insane! That's death for every single person involved! 

"To be honest, humans don't want to work in those areas anymore. They have to pay like.... fifty times a usual rate.... they even force their employees to like.... sign contracts that funeral expenses will be covered. IT IS THAT BAD." He's actually laughing.

I sit in stunned silence. Shock.

...awe? 

MY father... a human killer. A threat that is so bad that they don't even want to work NEAR him. 

No one ever told me shit about my father. And definitely not this. 

...I mean... besides Jimmy... who I guess kinda at least told me he was still alive. 

I'm starting to get massively confused, though...how is Johnny suddenly so... knowing? Why now? Did he really not know what bloodline I was?

...

Did no one read my paperwork????

Johnny's been pretty... innocent in all this. So how the fuck does he know not only about my father but that he smuggles out mutants and kills humans? He should have... turned him in. 
Just knowing that shit could get Johnny in trouble! 

...I have questions that don't make sense now. 

Is this something someone ...wanted me to find out? 
Did someone... arrange this? 

Wait...Mr. Reed didn't visit me before he bought me. There were no previews. He showed up and offered my owner a shit ton of money without even seeing me ONCE. He said he needed someone of my bloodline...

Does that mean he knew my father too?

Not knew OF my father. KNEW my father...as Johnny seems to. If I hadn't pointed out my family marking to Johnny... would it have changed our relationship? Would he never have told me this? 

Mr. Reed...He has to have known. He told me I was from a prominent bloodline.

I know I was, I mean, of course I do. But Jonny’s reaction is unnerving in ways I don’t think he’s aware of really.

His phone starts ringing and he answers, immediately hissing, “Did you know?”

I can’t hear the response.

“No, I didn’t check the paperwork.” He whispers. “I mean- I did. But... not that closely.”

Another response I can’t hear.

I am starting to freak out.
My father?
Moving mutants?

…..coming back inside human territory?
Emptying the pits?

...killing humans? 

...making a name for himself doing this?

..why...hasn’t he come for me?
Or my siblings?

Why is he saving other mutants before his own children?

It’s not that I'm not happy that someone is setting mutants free- that’s not it at all.
It’s just…I don’t know.

I guess I’m jealous?

He can keep making us… but he won’t set us free?

This is yet another confirmation I’ve received over the last few days that says he’s alive.
..and now he’s active? And again- making a name for himself.

When I look up at Johnny, he’s not on his phone anymore. He is just staring at me. "God... I do not know who was involved with this... but fuck. There was some kind of divine intervention." He's talking more to himself. "FUCK. I get granted a mutant.... and he's a kid of one of the-" He stops. "you don't know who you are." He says- almost in awe. "you really do not know... who you are." He points to himself. "I... know more about you than you do and I literally just met you." He's shaking his head again. "That's fucked. That's so fucked!" 

I don't understand. I don't know how to process any of this- and I think... I'm scared.

I don't want to be punished for my father's crimes.... which I think may happen?  I don't want to have to pay his debt. I can barely handle mine!

"Oh, no no," Johnny says quickly, which surprises me, he wipes his thumb down my face- wiping away a tear I didn't know had fallen. "Let me explain, okay? Please? It will ALL make sense... okay?" 

I don't move or speak. 

"Okay?" He presses. "you're not in trouble- I promise." 

I finally nod. 

“So... what I'm about to tell you... I was going to wait until we were more... comfy... with each other. But..." He inhales deeply, "It seems that fate is kinda... moving us along. I know that what I'm about to say is something you think is going to be a trick... or a test... but it's not. Okay?" he puts his hand on his chest. "I swear to god."

That's not a good enough reason to not be scared. There is no god for me. 

When I don't respond he says. 

"On my mom's grave." 

...I take that a little more seriously and nod. 

"Okay so.." He points to me. "You weren't just given to humans." He says quietly. "Your parents didn't just make you on accident. You weren't a mistake." 

....What? 

"None of you were." He says. "You understand? Most mutants aren't actually born here. Or... meant to be." 

No. 
That's not what happens. 

"You or your mothers are taken... very much against their will." 

How would he know this? 

"Okay- I know, you're thinking that I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about- and that's fair." He says quickly. " But... Okay- look. Some people disagree with the laws but try to loosely abide by them. Good people." He says. "Like Sue and Reed. People who if they weren't stuck in this shit and trying to keep people safe- would never do any of this." 

... Yea. I can see that. 

"And then, there are people who've kinda... got nothing to lose and decide to go out kicking up a fuss. People... like me? Who was going to get shipped off anyway?" 

Okay... 

"Yea. " He says. "I refused to take a mutant. Ever. And you're amazing and sweet but I honestly never would have bought you for myself. OR any other mutant." He says quickly. "I'm one of the people who have decided to ... draw a line in the sand? I had nothing to lose, I hated the system, and I was ready to take down as many mother fuckers as I had to on the way out." He pauses. "Sue didn't know it. Reed didn't know it. They have no fucking clue about what I'm up to." He looks down at the bed. "And I can't tell them. If I get caught and they're even partially involved?? They'll be punished just as much as I will." 

I understand that. 

I mean... I'm a similar situation, am I not?

"Until recently, when they got me you, I had been in touch with some people who are working on infiltrating certain ... holds- basically. Your stable, for instance. They managed to get someone on the inside recently. The dam the Stormbreakers are filling? Damaged by an attack that freed about ten mutants from a really bad pit." 

...wow. 

"The point is, there are people who are doing what they have to... and people who've got nothing left to lose so they're doing what they NEED to. This shit can't go on. No matter what 'peace' everyone thinks we're keeping- we're not. Everyone knows it. And once the mutants are gone- they'll just keep going. Metas. Aliens. It won't stop. We're not 'fixing' a problem. We're just ... delaying it." 

I sit in silence...I really don't know what to say.

"Humans will even turn on other humans when they have no one else to blame. We've been doing it for thousands of years! As long as someone at the top has someone lower to use as a scapegoat- this shit will just keep going and going. And with the mass scale damage they've been able to do to mutants kept in mind, the longer they're able to keep going, the stronger they'll get. Every new 'batch' of mutants they get- their methods get better and better." 

I... that makes sense. 
Just thinking of my life.... and how things have changed over eighteen years.

"What I'm saying is that the only way to put an end to it, to set it right and keep it from happening to other people, is to take up a ...sneaky approach? no one can face down the authorities head-on. Not and expect to walk away from it. So it takes a joint effort from people on the inside and people on the out. They've managed to build a power base by stealing children. So... people like me... your dad... my friends? We've just been... taking them back. Slowly but surely." 

I honestly do not know what to think- let alone how to respond. 

"It has to stop. We NEED to make it stop." he looks at me for a long moment. "And we're going to." 

I just stare at him. 

"So, as you can see... I know a bit more than I let on." He says with a smirk. "And... I'm really sorry if you feel lied to. To keep up appearances, I've been acting normally. Going to bars. Going out with dates. All that shit. And I mean- I'm not faking getting drunk." He laughs. "Nah- that's too fun. BUT everything else is kinda... played up?" He pauses for a small second. "I don't know a lot of details about the little things." He says. "I didn't know you weren't taught to read. I don't know how much history you know. I didn't know if you could speak or not and I admittedly didn't know if you spoke English." He says. "I wasn't expecting Sue and Reed to jump the gun on this one. I had planned to try and run a final mission before I was shipped off... but it fell through a day before you came. Which is why I was kinda so bitchy when Sue brought you to me?" 

He's... lying? 

"I am super serious about helping you. All of you. I want you to be free. To read. To write. To....be alive." 

"...free." I can't help but respond. 

Free? 
Me? 

"Free." He says with a nod. "Totally free. No strings attached." 

No... 
Free. 
No pit. No stage. No drums. 

I... 

Free. 
No strings. 
No masters. 
No owners. 

"...no strings?" I ask- almost in some sort of trance by the idea behind his words. 
An idea I've never really given much thought. 
One that apparently he has.

"None." He says gently. "No more punishments. No more rape... no more starvation...free. No strings. No obligations. Free." 

"...free," I repeat. 

Me. 
Free. 

In the wild. 

"Yea." He nods again. "Free... I would have done this no matter what bloodline you were... by the way." He says. "It's just... you..." He pauses. "You have people looking for you. People who will be able to take you and keep you safe... teach you how to be..." 

"Free," I say again. 

He nods. "Yep. I was going to get you out in a year or so because we have to find a person who's willing to take care of you on the outside and it takes time...but if I take you to a drop off point you'd be taken by someone who would protect you at any costs almost immediately" 

...free. 
Out in the wild. 

There's another pause. 

"So, I got into this all 'rebellion' shit because of a friend." He says- sounding equal parts pained and proud. "He got a mutant- pretty girl. They fell in love. And you know that that's not allowed. She ended up getting pregnant. When a person who worked with him found out- they turned them in. So, the authorities came to take her... because she couldn't raise a mutant baby. My friend... he loved her too much- ya know? So he helped her escape. But... he got caught. He was shot down by a firing squad by the next morning. But word has it that the woman got away. Got past the power dampers in her city... made it past the wall. So... I took my friend's place in our 'team'. Someone had to pick up the slack.... and I was ready." He gently rubs my back again. "If I just get ONE person out I would be more than satisfied. And if that person was you... I'd face down that firing squad smiling."

I just sit in awe for a long minute. 

So here is yet another side to a story I thought I knew. 

"I'm sorry it's so different from what you know." He says gently. "But... history is kinda only written by the people who 'won'. And it's never really been fair." He gently squeezes me. "And... if decide you don't want this.. if you don't want involved? You don't have to be. Just because you share blood with a crazy motherfucker doesn't mean you also have to be one." 

...crazy ass motherfucker. 

.... I kinda like that. 

"...you don't even have to decide what to do right now." He says. "I just want to give you the option... because whatever you choose... you deserve more than this." 

More. 
More than this. 

....is there more than this? 

Out there... where these mutants are... I don't know what's out there. 
I don't know how I would get there. 

Or.... if they would want me. 

...no one has ever come for us. 

My stable was never raided. 
No one was ever taken out unless they aged, were sold, or in a body bag. 

All I know is everything I've been told.... which is becoming insanely more complex as my time with Johnny and his family goes on. As Mr. Reed has told me one thing... and Johnny's now told me another... and I still know all the stories my keepers have told me...

I can't read. 
I can't write. 

I don't even know what my powers are...

So what will happen if I make it past all of the dampeners? What will happen if I come face to face with the men and women who made me and all of the children I was raised with- who I suffered with. How will I handle that? 
Do I WANT to handle that? 

...what if I don't make it? 

..what... if they don't want me? 

I am of no use to anyone. 
..unless they need someone to sell for favors. 

"While you settle on all of this... We're gonna try to get your little sister." He says gently. "... and if you don't mind... we can't tell anyone about this. Not Sue. Not Reed. Not Ben. It's you and me. Okay?" 

I nod. 

He leans over and kisses my forehead. "Cool." He moves from the bed, leaving me to look out of the window at the darkened sky. "I'll be back in a few," he says. 

I don't know what I want to do with all of this information. 
With all of this new knowledge. 
I don't know what I believe. I don't know WHO I trust. 

...but I think... Johnny is being earnest. I think he may care. 

He said he had nothing left to lose. And in my experience.... those are the people who are the real crazy motherfuckers. 

I don't know if I'll ever see my father. 
Or my siblings. 

But I'm trying to imagine how that meeting would go. 

...what I would say. 
...if I would be able to say anything. 

I don't know if I would be able to handle his response when I ask him why he's left us... me.. for so long. 

Am I too far in? Have they just not found me yet?? 

...is this what Jimmy meant when he said I wouldn't be lost forever? 

...what part of my life- of my past... is real at this point? 
Why do all of these people have different stories when it's mostly NOT their past?? 
Why don't my people know their own stories? 

Is a chance at freedom worth me rejecting everything I've been told and then trusting the word of strangers who've literally spent actual money to buy me? 

I feel the idea as it slowly dawns on me.

.... I've got nothing to lose either. Just like Johnny. 

If I want to be free... what's going to hold me back? 

...I deserve more. Johnny said it. 

I...deserve more. 

I am worth more.

Which means... I am worth something to someone. 

I deserve more... and I am not worthless. 

After everything that's happened... 

I. Deserve. More.