Departures and returns

You burst through the heavy oak door of the mayor's office without knocking.

Behind you, Paula Hird's breathless voice trails in: -Madame, I tried to stop her, but...-.

Alexandra raises one manicured hand, cutting the apology short. When she speaks, her tone is velvet over steel.

-Thank you, Paula. We both know Miss Harris isn't stopped by doors. Much like her sister, after all. You can leave us.-.

The secretary hesitates a heartbeat, then retreats. The door clicks shut with the soft finality of a trap springing closed. Alexandra leans back in her leather chair, legs crossed, the slit of her pencil skirt parting just enough to remind you you're in her domain, and not viceversa. The politician's smile that curves her lips is warm, practiced, and entirely false.

-What can I do for you this morning, Kim?-.

You don't sit. Instead, you stride forward and drop the shattered remnants of a Roboris Vitae jar onto her pristine desk blotter.

-Perhaps you could give me some explanations.- You say, voice low and edged. She regards the broken glass with faint distaste, then arches an eyebrow.

-I believe that Regina's office is in the building across town.-.

The sarcasm slides off you like water on oil.

-I'm handling Regina separately. Right now I want to know your role in Bella's stupid conspiracy. And don't insult me by pretending Rihannon kept you in the dark. She couldn't have pulled this off without you.- You unlock your phone and slide it across the desk. The screen shows a satellite image of the building you raided last night. The city's seal is unmistakable on the concrete apron.

Alexandra doesn't flinch. She nudges the phone back toward you with one long finger.

-No, she couldn't, and she didn't. She asked me, and I gave her the building, and yes, she kept me informed.-.

You plant both hands on the desk and lean in.

-And??-.

-And what?- She meets your glare without blinking: -Am I sorry? No, Kimberly, I am not.-.

She uncrosses her legs, recrosses them the other way; the whisper of nylon against nylon is loud in the sudden quiet.

-I've spent enough time inside Alexandra's head to know one thing for certain: half-measures solve nothing when the stakes are existential. If you limit yourself to an approach, you have already failed.-.

You close your eyes, exale through your nose: -You perfectly knew that it was reckless and doomed to fail miserably.-.

-Not less reckless than yours, given the situation we're in. As for being destined to fail, this is something I'm not as convinced of as you are; so, I decided to help my daughter as much as I'm still helping you.-.

-Oh my god, why are you all so dense??- You stimm out your frustration by spinning in a circle for some seconds, then: -We should be on the same side!-.

-It's not that easy, given the stunt you pulled two nights ago.- She spins the monitor toward you, showing the first page of the City Daily Online. 'THE ATTACK ON THE RUSSELL MANSION REMAINS A MYSTERY - RICHARD RUSSELL: 'A FAILURE OF OUR ADMINISTRATION', complete with a photo of the divelted gate and an insert where Heather Russell, or rather, the green goo now posing as her, speaks about the trauma she endured.

-I thought Valerie had the press locked down.- You mutter.

-Printed, yes, but online?- She gives a tired laugh: -Internet never sleeps, and Charity beat us by twenty minutes. A little discretion would have been nice.-.

-Tina and Heather were in danger! You saw how they reduced Heather. No, you would have, if you had bothered to check on her.-.

Alexandra rubs her temples and groans.

-Look, I'm relieved that Heather is safe, and I mean it. But to everyone else, this was simply the latest spike in a month-long crime wave, and it happened to target my strongest opponent in the election. Now he's floating the idea of a 'private security ****' to 'assist' our overburdened police department.- She air-quotes with bitter precision: -The polls love it.-.

-She already owns the police.- You snap.

-No need to remind me, I sign their checks. I guess she wants to overkill it, or aside from being a sociopath and mobster, she's a fascist too, you pick. Point is, every extra federal agent crawling around this city makes it harder for me to pretend the department is still trustworthy. If that lie collapses, so does my career. So the next time you decide to play urban guerrilla, a heads-up would be appreciated.-.

You stare at her for a long beat.

-Same for your daughter, Mayor.- You reply bitterly. She stretches an annoyed smile and dismisses you.

---

Dawn's body gives one final, full-length shudder as the last of your goo settles deep inside her. From within, you perceive everything in a strange, diffused way: strands of yourself phasing along her esophagus, pooling lightly over the sleek curves of muscle in her thighs and arms, draping the coiled length of her intestines, cradling the delicate bones of her neck. It is intimate beyond anything you have ever felt. You thin your presence deliberately, pulling focus back to the dense core that lets you think and speak as Kim Harris.

"At least we found a use for Megan's goo." You think to yourself. Next to you, your younger sister's sulk suggests she doesn't agree. Like Emily, Aunt Maddison, Trish, and some others, Tina received a portion of those jellies too, and like them, she's now inside of Dawn's body just like you; however, despite not being quite a fan of Dawn herself, she already expressed her contrariness to this containment solution.

Cassidy sits motionless on the couch, arms folded tight beneath her breasts, watching the aftermath with an intensity that borders on hunger. The frustration radiating from her is almost palpable; her sister's body has been invaded, claimed, filled, and the knowledge clearly costs her.

-So that's what Heather has felt all this time.- Dawn murmurs, turning her hands over slowly, as if expecting to see the goo moving beneath her skin.

-Don't name...- Tina starts, then breaks off in a frustrated grunt. She pushes to her feet: -I'm going to check on Heather.-. There is no real need; Troy or Chadwick is always stationed outside the door to your parents' bedroom, where you installed both Heather and Dawn for now. Tina hated the arrangement, but last night Heather had been impossible to separate from Dawn, so Tina gave in. Cassidy, for her part, has taken Tom's old room. In any case, Tina goes checking on Heather every ten minutes at least, but as far as you're aware, her attempts to start a dialogue all fell short.

-Kim.- Elizabeth's soft call pulls you from your thoughts. She offers Cassidy a thin, bitter smile; Cassidy answers with the smallest nod. You follow Elizabeth outside onto the porch. She stops, turns, faces you. Your lips tighten.

-Are you sure, Liz?-.

-Yes.- She replies. She answers quietly. There is sadness in it, but also a calm certainty. She spent the remaining hours of the night absorbing all the remaining goo, and then she told you her decision. The stroll is still evident in her face.

-I'm sorry it ended up like this.- You say: -We haven't known each other for long, but I... you know, as Tom, I really did think of you as my friend.-.

-I know.- Her voice is gentle: -And I hate leaving you all in the lurch like this. But it's not forever, right? I just need time, Kim. Time to figure out who I really am, outside this body, outside our...self? Our brother.- She huffs a small, embarrassed laugh: -God, it's still so strange to say. When 'Tom' first met 'Liz', she was lost, searching for somewhere to belong. And these last days made me realize... it's not here. Not yet.-.

You nod solemnly, and she adjusts the straps of her backpack.

-Where will you go?-.

-First to my parents. Make sure they're safe. After that... I don't know. I'll stay in touch.-.

-Alright.- There's a brief pause, then you open your arms, and she takes you in an embrace; her warmth, her scent, the faint tremor in her shoulders all pressing against you.

-I'm proud to call you my sister.- She whispers against your ear, voice cracking at the edges. When she pulls back, she sniffs and wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand.

-You'll save Tom and the others. I know it.- A shaky breath: -Well... I'd better go. When you see Bella, tell her...-.

-Actually.- You cut in, nodding toward the street, where a car is pulling up to the curb: -You can tell her yourself.-.

Liz turns around just in time to see Bella and Hermione climbing out. Bella freezes at the sight of Elizabeth; Elizabeth walks down the steps to meet them. The greeting is awkward, charged.

-I...- Bella begins, then looks at her mother, who gives her a reassuring nod: -I'm here to apologize, Liz. I shouldn't have lied about where we were last night. Now I know you wouldn't have told Kim.-.

-And I would have been wrong.- Liz answers evenly, no accusation in it: -But I would have tried to talk you out of it. I should have tried sooner.-.

-Well, anyway.- Bella twists a strand of hair around her finger: -I'm also sorry for saying you weren't my friend. You know, that Bella didn't really like you... it wasn't true. Not completely, I mean... but it wasn't fair to you.-.

-I guess I could be a little annoying.- Liz concedes lightly.

-So... are we cool?- Bella extends her hand. Liz takes it, shakes once, firm, then she lifts her hand in a quiet wave to both of you and walks away down the street. Bella then turns to you, an uneasy look on her pretty face. You cross your arms, waiting for her to speak.

-Whatever you're doing, it better be working.- She says at last. Then she and Hermione head back to the car and drive off.

"Better be working, uh?" You think to yourself.

"Well, we will see soon enough, I guess.".

---

-EVERYBODY FREEZE!!-.

You stride in on your 8-cm heels, the sharp click of each step cutting through the chaos like a whip. Your men move with practiced efficiency, zip-tying wrists, kicking weapons aside, hauling the stunned thugs to their feet. Just as Dawn predicted: no green shimmer under the skin, no telltale glaze in the eyes. Simply meatheads with too many guns and not enough sense.

-Alright fellas, pack these gentlemen up and make sure they understand the Federal Government is deeply disappointed by their naughty little behaviour. They'll have the next twenty years or so to reflect on it.- You deliver the order calmly, voice low and smooth, watching room after room empty out in orderly fashion.

One of the prisoners snarls as cuffs snap around his wrists, muscles flexing under sweat-slick skin. You let your gaze drift, slowly, deliberately, down the hard ridges of his abs, hidden only partly by the torn tank top. Behind the dark lenses of your sunglasses a small, appreciative smile flickers. You are already picturing the 'private interrogation' you might give him... until the voice in your earpiece interrupts.

-Ma'am, we got them.-.

You push through the doorway into the marked room. Three women lie motionless on surgical mats, tubes snaking from their arms, monitors beeping in soft counterpoint.

"Only conventional control method. No goo. Just like she said.".

-Dr. Carlson.- You speak into the comms. Michelle strides in moments later, still wearing the crisp white lab coat you so enjoyed peeling off her last night.

-Their vitals are stable. They should wake up in moments.- She checks each in turn with quick, competent fingers, then disconnects the catheters and pushes a clear syringe into the IV ports.

Sally McBride stirs first. She groans, sits up clutching her skull and curses something in rough Scottish.

-Jings, whit the deil jist happened? Ah feel like shite.-.

-You have good reason to.- Kim says, stepping into the room with arms folded tight across her chest. Apprehension is carved into every line of her face. Tina stands just behind her, expression carved from granite. If you didn't know your former sister so well, you might mistake the hardness for anger instead of the brittle relief that Dawn's intel was right.

-Ma'am.- One of your agents, the one you memorized nights ago because of that little mole on his glans, steps aside, letting two dishevelled, unpossessed women enter the room. The first, a blonde, looks ready to shatter, trembling visibly; the second, a brunette with rectangular glasses, looks calmer, but your trained eyes don't miss the nervousness behind her flat facade.

-Who are you?- You ask, but Kim answers before either can speak.

-I saw them in Stephanie's memories. Joanna Paige and Mindy Roxcon, right? You worked with Sally and Lacy.-.

-Uhm...- Lacy's eyelids flutter open, while Sally starts recovering from her dizziness.

-That fuckin' cow! Ah feel like ah've been run ower by a lorry!-.

-I-Is it over?- Joanna's voice cracks. Her wide eyes dart from you to Kim to the agents blocking the door: -Oh, agent, that, that thing! She, she was inside of me! It was like… oh god, oh god!-.

She crumples into sobs, shoulders heaving. You watch without softening; rather than empathy, what you feel is the uneasy weight of necessity for what you're about to do.

Joanna, having her face on the floor, can't see that; but Mindy notices instead. Her posture shifts, her spine stiffens, her weight rocks onto the balls of her feet as though testing for an escape route. But the doorway is sealed by broad shoulders and black tactical vests. She lowers her gaze in quiet, bitter surrender. You don't know how exactly she has deduced you're of the same species of her former captor... but soon, you will.

-There must be another way.- Tina's voice is low, almost pleading, aimed at her sister. Kim's expression is stone. It's sad, but there isn't. You need their memories, and you can't let witnesses ranting about a clandestine war between two mind-jacking goos.

So at the end of the day, your extended family grows by two more.

---

-Ach!!! Anither roond, drinks are on me again!- Sally exclaims, slamming her glass down hard enough to make the table rattle. Flushed, loud, swaying slightly on her stool, she looks nothing like someone who woke up from a month-long medically induced coma just hours ago. Michelle had insisted they rest; Sally had laughed in her face and declared that a Scot recovers by drinking until she forgets what she was supposed to recover from; and that moment seems closer at each cup she empties.

-Here you are.- Jade Ronalds slides two fresh pints across the bar. As one of you, she had already closed the place early so the group could have it to themselves. She sets the glasses in front of Sally and Lacy with practiced ease.

-Thanks luv.- Sally takes a long pull, then fixes Jade with a bleary, appreciative stare.

-...Say that again, whit time dae yer tits knock aff?-.

-Sally!- Lacy protests in a fuzzy giggle, swatting her arm.

-Uh, sorry.- Sally blinks hard, visibly wrestling her brain back into line: -Ah meant, whit time dae ye knock aff so ye can show us yer tits?-.

-After you're gone, I'm afraid.- Jade answers with a patient, crooked smile: -Next time, alright sugar?-.

Sally pouts like a disappointed child, but the fresh beer distracts her immediately. She and Lacy clink glasses in a sloppy Bruderschaft, then dive back in, laughing, drinking, slapping each other's boobs in that casual, drunken way that has been going on for the last hour and leaves zero doubt about their plans once they stumble home.

You rub your eyes and let out a long, exasperated sigh. Shutting the bar early was the right call, but still.

You aren’t the only one not enjoying the party. At the next table Amanda Hope sits alone, silent, her untouched pint staring back at her like it holds the secrets of the universe. She hasn't moved in twenty minutes.

-An' since it's been a month since ah did it, ah reckon ah'll use the big dildo. Ye ken, the yin wi twa-

-Mom.-.

The single word slices the air: Sally and Lacy freeze mid-laugh, while you and Amanda both turn toward the door. Cindy stands there, shoulders hunched, head dipped, eyes flicking everywhere except her mother's face.

-I'm... I'm relieved that you are fine...-.

Amanda's chair scrapes loudly as she rises. For a heartbeat her expression is unreadable; then, she crosses the room in three quick strides and crushes Cindy in a fierce hug.

-My baby girl, my baby girl! Cindy, I'm so, so sorry!- Tears already spill down her cheeks, while Cindy stays rigid in her arms, arms hanging limp at her sides: -I will never leave you again, I promise. Please, forgive me for not having been the mother you needed!-.

You watch the embrace with a complicated knot in your chest. Lacy leans toward you, sharing a worried glance with Sally.

-Uh, Kim, is that true she's, ehm, hanging out with...-.

-It's... complicated.-.

Amanda cups Cindy's face now, thumbs brushing away invisible tears, voice thick with emotion.

-What happened during this month? Have you been alright? If there's something, anything, you need me to do...-.

-N-No, I'm, I'm fine.- Cindy still escapes her mother's eyes, but she doesn't seem to have realized it yet.

-Look, I, uh, I think I have to go.-.

Amanda pauses, then nods slowly: -Of course, you're right, let's go back home. I can cook you those steaks you love so much and- but she winces as Cindy steps back sharply, shrugging off her mother's loving hands.

-Cindy?- Amanda's voice creaks. You don't need to read her mind to know what she's thinking now.

-I have to go now... I'm sorry... I just wanted to make sure you were alright...-.

The realization hits Amanda like a physical blow. Her mouth opens, closes. Everything you tried to warn her about earlier, everything she refused to hear, crashes down in real time.

-Cindy, Cindy wait, I'm not angry I swear, I know that you and Charity-

-That's not her name!- Cindy shouts with sudden, raw anger, startling Amanda and the rest of you. She immediately shrinks in on herself, trembling, voice dropping to a broken mutter: -It's Maria, she's Maria now... I need to go.-.

She doesn't wait for her mom to reply and hurries out, the heavy door thudding shut behind her. Mrs. Hope collapses back into the chair, face blank with shock, as though the ground has vanished beneath her. She doesn't understand, she cannot understand; how could she?

-Mrs. Hope.- You call her softly, sliding your hand over hers: -Come on, let me bring you home.-.

Her devastated expression cuts through the lingering laughter and clinking glasses like a knife. Tonight's victory suddenly tastes bitter.

---

As you reach the top of the stairs, your mind buzzing with the day's events, your old room door looms in front of you, and so does the last person you want to see and who unfortunately now lives under this same roof.

Dawn stands frozen, appalled, one arm hanging limp at her side while her fist twitches in tiny, nervous spasms. She must have just knocked. The silence that answered her clearly wasn't the one she hoped for.

-...alright, I, I'll let you be.- She says it ruefully, already turning, then spots you and startles: -Ah, Tina! Good evening! I, ehm, I heard that you rescued them, congratulations!-.

You narrow your eyes and try to shoulder past her without a word. She reaches out instinctively, telling you to wait. You stop; turn; glare.

-I just...- She looks ashamed of her instinctive reaction, clearing her throat twice before continuing: -I wanted to tell you that I'll convince Heather to talk to you. I promise you that eventually-

-Stop talking to me like you're my friend.- The words come out low and venomous: -Or Heather's friend. You're not. You may have fooled the others, but I know you're as twisted as the rest of your little pack. And I promise you that the second I find a way to get your goo out of my friend's body, you're out. Out of this house, out of her life, out of everything.-.

Dawn's face crumples. Her mouth opens, closes, opens again, but nothing comes out for several long seconds. When she finally speaks, her voice is small and cracked: -I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you. I shouldn't have lied about my real identity when we met. I was just scared you'd leave me there, with... with them. I know what it looks like, but I don't want to take Heather from you. I simply want her to be safe... the same way you do. So, could we...- she falters, then extends her hand, palm up, tentative: -...could we try to protect her together?-.

You hold her gaze until the silence becomes unbearable. Her arm slowly drops. She mutters something incoherent and hurries down the stairs.

Rage surges hot in your chest. You slam your fist against the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

"That... that lying bitch!".

-I told you to get away!- Cassidy's voice snaps from inside Tom's room. You blink, heat creeping into your cheeks.

-Uh, no, that's me now.-.

-Oh. Well, ok, come in then, if you must.-.

You hesitate, then push the door open. The sight hits like a slap: empty beer bottles rolling across the floor, sheets half-torn from the unmade bed, the air thick with stale vomit and sweat. Cassidy hunches in the desk chair, thumbs flying over the controller, eyes locked on the screen where a rifle tears through wave after wave of zombie-nazis.

-Wow. Cassidy, you, ehm, you look like-

-Shit!- The screen flashes red. She snarls a string of curses at someone's long-dead relatives, snatches the half-full bottle from the desk, and drains it in long, angry gulps. When it's empty, she lets it clatter to the floor with the others.

You swallow: -I don't know if I ever told you, but, I'm sorry. About your sister, I mean.-.

Cassidy grunts without looking away from the respawn timer: -Meh, don’t be.-.

At your obvious confusion she finally glances over, eyes bloodshot: -After all, she's not really my sister, right? Because me and her, we're the same. She's stealing Dawn's life like a creep… just like I'm stealing Cassidy's life… because I’m just a deviated… perverted… malicious little… argh, little son of his cock-sucking mother who uses a fucking cactus as a butt plug!!!-.

She slams the controller down, once, twice, then her palm against the desk, hard. A final snarl rips out of her, followed by a ragged gasp. She drops her forehead to the wood, shoulders heaving.

She remains like that until she hears the ping of a new player joining the LAN group. She looks at you, confused, while you're sitting on the chair next to her, the second controller already in your hand. It feels almost like the old times, with you and Jerry, side by side, yelling at pixelated enemies.

"Yeah...".

Cassidy snorts, then presses start, and a new round begins.

---

-Mrs. Rosy has almost all the ingredients for the cake, but she still needs the sugar! Miss Charity, do you have some? Miss Charity?-.

-Miss Charity.-.

You snap your gaze away from the door and back to the tea table. Millie, your little sister, your beloved little sister, sits there surrounded by her stuffed animals, all of them looking at you. She's smiling sweetly, patiently waiting for your answer.

-O-Oh, ah, sure, here you are Mrs. Rosy.- You tip an imaginary sugar bowl over the doll's empty cup. However, your sister bursts out in bright, bell-like laughter.

But it's not enough to cover... those.

-Silly Miss Charity, that's her tea cup! It's full of tea, can't you see? Why are you so distracted, Big Sis Charity?-.

A cold finger traces your spine. She's still smiling at you - you have such a lovely little sister, you love her so much! - but, uh, maybe a window has cracked open or something.

Then you hear them again. Outside the door, down the hall.

-I... uh...- Your heart hammers against your ribs as words exit from your mouth: -M-maybe she's not... lying... maybe Cindy didn't know...-.

-Are you telling me I'm making a mistake, Charity?-.

The words land like a verdict. Your jaw trembles, your throat turns to sandpaper. Your head jerks side to side.

-No, no, of course not, I-I didn't mean to imply that! I...-.

Another scream rips through the air and distracts you. Millie keeps staring, unblinking; then her lip quivers, and tears well up fast.

-Why, why are you so mean, Big Sis Charity? Why do you think I'm cruel? You don't love me! You don't love me, and so I have to tell Big Brother Eric, and he'll do many bad things to you! Why are you making me do that?-.

-No, no!- You drop from the chair, knees hitting the carpet, crouching low so you're eye-level with her, and then further: -I'm sorry, please, please forgive your big sister! I just, I just wanted to say, that Cindy loves you too! She would never have willingly betrayed you... maybe, maybe Kim tricked her! Maybe she wasn't aware that, that she was helping them, you know! M-Maybe they **** her! Because, they're bad people, right?-.

Millie sniffs, wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. She stays silent for one, two, ten seconds. Your heart is beating so fast you're about to puke. Then, in a sudden rush, she flings herself forward... and her small arms wrap around your waist, cheek pressing warm against your stomach.

-You're right, Big Sis Charity.- Her voice turns singsong, sweet as syrup: -They are really bad people. But Cindy is one of them too, in her soul. That's why... she has to be reminded who her real family is! The family that loves her no matter what, even when she makes me angry! It's for her own good, you see that, don't you?-.

Cindy screams again... but you don't listen to it anymore.

-Yes. Yes, of course.-.

-But you are one of them as well.- She continues, and there's something cold in her softness. Her fingers tighten, squeezing just hard enough to pinch. Then, behind you, the door creaks open, and heavy footsteps enter the room.

You flinch. Then you nod once, slow and deliberate.

It's for your own good.