OUT OF TOUCH

Yotsuya Kaidan

Rockerboy clicks his tongue, disapproval dripping from his timbre. The rocker who had settled in as uninvited guest and refuses to leave. Spoiled child who would lash out whenever he didn't get his way.

"That 'Saka cunt seriously fried your circuits or perhaps it's a result of that Netwatch agent, you're welcome by the way. But lemme tell ya." Rocker puts his arm right next to her head, leans in, he's close, too close.

Hallucination, she reminds herself. He's not really here.

Johnny's next words are heavy and hot like a brand, she feels a trickle of sweat slide down at the nape of her neck. "Once she bites into ya, and she will, you ain't gonna be able to pry yourself out. And I won't be there to help you. Rogue and I will take care of this, just like old times."

And that's the problem, she doesn't trust him. He used her, he lied to her. She's not naive to be fooled by him again. Not this time.

"We're almost at the head of a snake, kid, just. . ."

"Time!. . . I need time!" She zips, pain shoots through her shoulder like Oda's hot blade back at parade. She's had enough!

Enough of his obsession with Rogue!

Enough of his brand bullshit!

SHE'S HAD ENOUGH TONIGHT!

"Don't you get it?!" Engram rises to his height, towering her, watching her pathetic efforts to get away from him. "Time is something we are fresh out of, V!"

"This is my body; I call the shots!" She inhales, exhales, pushes up on her hands and knees. Head swims in a mist she can't get out of. Optics glitch, can't see ahead, stomach tightens and feels she's about to throw up. She can't stay here, she has to move, she has to delta, she needs to keep pushing though her body isn't on speaking terms with her mind so she stays on the floor, on her hands and knees. Eyes are foggy but it's better now. Merc braces herself, against the elevator wall, fingertips tap on the touchscreen.

She won't listen to him anymore, doesn't want listen to him!

Johnny half turns to her, fingers snap at lighter. "Not this time, kid."

Exhaustion dulls her mind, dulls her consciousness. She can't fall asleep, can't pass out! That would mean an open invitation for Johnny and she's gone a long way to make sure that this didn't happen because she wouldn't be waking again. Not herself. Yet every minute of this is a fucking struggle to remain sentient.

"You need me – look at yourself. You won't make it an hour without my help."

Woman slams her eyes shut tight, draws in a breath to collect her wits. Elevator chimes and the doors swing open, night crisp, flurry of rain stings at her face as another wave of pain sets in. Her feet knit together, the floor comes closer, faster and faster. Rain rides down glass panels of Embers, streets gleam, raindrops rattles on the roof of Delamain junior. Darkness closes in and down she goes. . .

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Cornfield

Time – who knows?

Year – who gives a darn as long as she can revel in her own small paradise. Though she'd pick a far different venue than this, but she's not complaining.

Tall grass, bright blinding sun.

V shifts her body, feels blotches sweat blooming across the front of her top down, down between her breast while more seeps down the small of her back. Breeze rocks her net swing, baby hair on her forehead frizzes, eyes shut, savouring this day. She pops her hand out of the net and hums a loud breath, overhears a combine cutting its path in the distance, birds chirps in a treetop. All she's missing is a fine cool glass to hold.