Katalepsis 2.11

Last time on Katalepsis...not much happened. That's probably/hopefully going to change in this chapter.

For the first couple of years after Wonderland, after my trip down the rabbit hole, after losing my twin, after the doctors and the hospitals and the drugs and the dissociation, I did speak to spirits.

Mostly I screamed at them to go away. Twelve-foot figures of dripping neon had stalked the nighttime hallways of Cygnet Children's Hospital. Often they'd wander into my room, ghosting through the door and crawling up the walls and watching me in bed, too terrified to sleep. I'd scream and rave and the night-duty nurse would ask what was wrong, then I'd get sedated and wake up to the same monsters in the hospital's dark corners the next day.

By the time I returned to school, I'd learnt to believe the monsters weren't real. It is difficult to listen to a doctor tell you that what you're seeing are only hallucinations as they leer at you over his shoulder.

I wonder if she made any attempts (or if adults around her made any attempts) to socialize with other children with similar diagnoses? If so, I wonder how much of a sense she was able to get that her "hallucinations" were fundamentally different from most people's, as a kid.

I trained myself not to look, not to pay them the slightest shred of attention, to keep my distance. They weren't real. Don't address them. They're not real. Don't look. Not real.

But once, one time, I held my nerve. So many years ago, I'd almost forgotten.

It happened at home, on the day after discharge from hospital following a period of "improved mental cohesion," encouraged by my parents' desire to have me in a familiar environment, to have me with them, to let me be normal.

I was drugged up to the gills on antipsychotics, and trying very hard to hide that I still saw monsters in the street outdoors, and in the family sitting room, and lurking in the kitchen, and lurching past my bed as I slept. They hovered around me and clutched at my clothes and I could not make them go away, not utter so much as a squeak, because I'd get told off for being insane.

Click to shrink...

"Told off?" What the hell kind of doctors were these? What the hell kind ofparentswere these?

I held myself together all day long, desperate not to get sent back to hospital. Maisie had never been real—so I thought, back then—but at least if I was at home then I could pretend, I could remember, I could have something of her to hold on to.

My parents had put me to bed that night. I'd faked sleep, then cried under the covers in silence the way only a lonely, sick child can.

:(

Of course, I had to get up to use the toilet. In the dark. A universal childhood trial by fire.

Except my monsters weren't under the bed, they were everywhere.

Funny thing. When I was a kid, I never saw monsters under my bed. I saw them virtually everywhere else - hanging from the ceiling, emerging from shadows on the bedroom walls, outside my window, behind my dad's curio collection in the living room, etc - but never under the bed.

The wall shadows were the worsts, honestly.

I think I thought of under the bed as safe because we had kitties, and they liked to hang out there, so I thought of that as cat territory where it wouldn't make sense for there to be monsters.

The spirit in question lounged across the corridor outside my bedroom door, more mouth than body or head, a maw large enough to swallow a cow, stuffed with a dozen different sizes and shapes of teeth. It breathed out fire-fed wind, hot and fetid. Tiny beady eyes had turned to regard me as I'd crept out in front of it, pillow held across my body in the only way I knew how to protect myself.

"Go away. You're not real," I'd whispered.

And it had.

It had humped and slithered and slid like sandpaper on rock, along the corridor and down the stairs, thump, thump, whack, whack—and gone.

Huh.

If both the pneuma-somatic life forms she's tried talking to so far were both able to understand her and inclined to follow her instructions, then that strongly implies thatallof them are. Or at least, most of them. Batting 2/2 here.

That leaves the question of whether they can understand human speech in general, or if Heather has some kind of telepathic ability that she didn't know she was using. If the latter, then is she FORCING these things to do as they're told, or are they recognizing her as a friendly on their own? Lots of questions raised. And the answers, no matter what they are, will necessarily raise even more questions.

I'd never repeated the feat. I'd never dared try.

Until recently.

Why not, though?

Having the PSF around has mostly made Heather uncomfortable and frightened throughout her life. Given how good she got at rationalizing their behavior as illustrations of her own feelings and so forth, you'd think she'd see her ability to command them as like...a good thing? A way that she can exercise willpower to keep her psychosis under control? She thinks interacting with the "hallucinations" at all is a bad idea, sure, but with how many years she spent being afraid of them, WITH the knowledge that she can tell them to go away and there's at least a decent chance that they'll do it, well...yeah, I have trouble believing that she never tried it again even a single time after that.

On the other hand, this does make her asking tentagorilla for directions more sensible. If she remembers this one time from her childhood when a spirit creature did what she told it to do, then in the spur of the moment it makes sense she'd try it again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong here," said Raine, "but I'm pretty sure this isn't the way to your place."

"Not going home."

"Okay, where we off to then?"

I replied with stony silence, which wasn't really a reply.

"Heather?"

"I'm not talking to you right now."

I was more angry at myself than at Raine, but I didn't know how to shift into reverse gear.

I only barely remember why she's mad at Raine, but I remember that it was boring, so it's not an issue for me.

Between the fear and my crippling teenage under-socialisation, I had no idea what to do except put one foot in front of the other until I reached a place where I could think clearly. Raine tagging along like a determined hound dog made me feel awful, guilty, but also so relieved, and then guilty again for feeling the relief.

A vicious circle. Bad, under-socialised, self-contradictory Heather. I told myself off, told myself I had to stop and talk to her.

Pneuma-somatic attention did not help matters.

Since the moment I'd shouted at the spirits outside Evelyn's house, it seemed every twisted monstrosity in Sharrowford had decided to come pay me a visit. Giant slack faces peered over the rooftops at us, packs of wolf-hogs and lizard-foxes raced past as if trying to spook me, malformed limbs unfolded from manhole covers and drain grates to wave in the wind like branches of flesh.

Without the Fractal on my arm, I suspect they would have mobbed me.

Honestly, the fractal might be worth inscribing on something she can readily put on and take off again. If the PSF obey her, then she doesn't need it to make them leave her alone when she wants to be left alone. If anything, having the fractal on might make them less friendly and receptive than they'd otherwise be, since it clearly makes them uncomfortable or futzes with their senses or something.

The fact that they're being MORE attracted to her now, though...hmm. Maybe talking to them has some kind of telepathic aftereffect, that makes her light up on their senses? That would make sense if Heather has a special power that lets her communicate with and/or command them, rather than it just being a matter of no one else talking to them in the first place. The other possibility is that they're all just incredibly eager to have someone to boss them around and want her to command them at once. That seems significantly less likely, but this story has surprised me multiple times already.

"Ahhh, the old silent treatment." I heard the grin in Raine's voice. "Say no more, I respect the urge, I know the deal. Been here a few times before."

I shot her a side-eye glare. "Upset a lot of girls, do you?"

"Oho, silent treatment didn't last long."

I've had them last quite a while. Maybe Raine has never pissed a significant other off as badly as I have, idk.

I huffed and folded my arms tighter. My feet led me along the northern length of the student quarter, slow and steady, still achy and wobbly from yesterday's city-crossing trek. Raine started to whistle, utterly tuneless. No hand-holding on this trip.

Indigo and cerulean spirit-wisps whipped overhead, the tail feathers and trailing tentacles of house-sized floaters. Charred, blackened heads of gristle and grit paused in their scurrying to watch me pass. A monster gestured to me from across the street, a combination of sloth and lizard, speaking alien sign language with paws the size of dinner plates.

"The ghosts and ghoulies are givin' you lip, aren't they?" Raine asked.

"Ghosts and ghoulies?"

She shrugged, then very gently tried to take my hand again. This time, I let her.

"They are," I admitted. "It's … really bad. I think I stirred them up."

Wait wait wait Heather, what the fuck are you doing, the slothlizard seems like it has something to say to you. Shouldn't you want to go listen to it? The last time a pneuma-somatic entity told you something it helped you bigtime. If this one wants your attention, you should go over there and give it your fucking attention holy shit.

Raine cracked a grin, not at me, but at the dozens of monsters she couldn't see. "I'll chase them off with a baseball bat if I have to. Go on, bugger off, the lot of you! She's mine, you can't have her!"

The spirit life paid no attention, but an old man looked up from his garden down the street. I flushed with embarrassment.

"Raine!" I hissed, and jerked my hand out of hers. "I don't need your— I don't—"

Raine raised her eyebrows in genuine curiosity, with not a shred of hurt or offence. I swallowed, put my head down, and forged on.

Heather still regarding the PSF as a problem she needs to solve is just...okay, sure, she's got complexes about them because of how she's been conditioned to think about them for the last decade. Yes, there is situationally a risk of mistaking a potentially dangerous fully corporeal alien for PSF, like what happened with the fleaman in arc 1. But overall, outside of rare circumstances like Evelyn's dimension-hopping experiment, she really needs to get it through her head that these things are friendly and also very cute.

Anyway, jump ahead to them being at the library.

Raine followed me all the way down between the library stacks before she made her move.

To be fair, surrounding myself with books is one of the more reliable ways to calm myself down, which is why I'd walked to the library in the first place. Despite Evelyn's spider-servitor lurking in the basement, Sharrowford University Library was still a source of instant comfort and reassurance. Most of the spirit life stayed firmly outdoors, though a few multi-limbed climbers nosed at us in the third-floor stacks, their bodies like elongated, wingless dragonflies as they clambered and peered. I glared at them and they retreated to slink back to their hidey-holes.

"Even in here?" Raine asked.

" … what even in here?"

"Spirits. Right? They bothering you right now?"

I stopped and half turned to Raine, not sure what to do with her. She'd followed me into a sort of nook at the back of the third floor, at the end of a pathway between two long rows of shelves. The library's architecture pinched tight, before opening out again into a reading area full of low tables and book-return trolleys. Almost empty this time of day, only a few students sitting there, reading and studying. None faced us. A concrete wall-support blocked the view in the other direction.

"No," I said. "I think I got them to leave. Peace and quiet, except for you."

Raine stood with her hands on her hips, her head tilted slightly to one side. A strange ghost of a smile played across her lips, as if she knew a secret I didn't.

Gloom and drizzle outside. Quiet, well-lit library aisles, stacked high with books and wafting with the scents of old paper and old wood. An audience of giant wingless dragonfly monsters. The perfect scene in which to lose one's virginity.

...holy shit I just summarized this entire serial in four sentences, didn't I?

"Feeling any better?" she asked.

I shrugged, then stopped and realised what that look on her face meant. My chest tightened.

"Ah, don't—" I managed to say. Raine took a step forward, so close I edged back, mouth suddenly dry and heart hammering. She looked left and right as if for eavesdroppers before turning a knowing, teasing smile on me.

"Raine, not here!" I hissed.

"Where else, then?" she murmured. "I can follow you around all day. Unless you straight-up tell me to leave, and mean it. Say it if you want, I'll go. I promise."

"You're violating the sanctity of the library!" I whispered. Raine struggled not to giggle. "Don't laugh!"

.........

Heather.

Heather.Heather.

Do you REALLY not know what goes on in those private study rooms in university libraries?

Really?

REALLY?

She cleared her throat—softly, at least. "Heather, I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I'd never, ever call you useless. Never even think it."

I dropped my gaze to her boots. "But that's what you like, isn't it?"

Silence.

I glanced back up and got a face full of extremely confused Raine. She blinked at me, all her smooth words derailed.

"Uh, what?" she said, far too loud.

Raine is playing dumb here a bit. She knew what Heather was annoyed about her comment. I don't remember exactly what it was, some sort of "leave it to us" thing as I recall, but I do remember Raine realizing why it made Heather mad.

At the same time though, I'm not sure if Heather is at all correct in what she just said about Raine. Like, does Raine have a thing for damaged women who need someone to fix them? Yes. Does she have a thing forhelplesswomen? Looking at her track record, I really don't think so. Evelyn and Twil both have personality issues to spare, and need moderating influences in their lives, but like...they're capable of things. Certainly of fighty-type things. We've seen them both perform pretty impressive feats of violence (both), outdoorsmanship (Twil), and knowledge (Evelyn). As for Heather, well...it's not like Raine got LESS attracted to her after she rescued Evelyn from dogworld.

Also? The narrative we've been given by Evelyn is that Raine got less attracted to her as she became less helpless. But like. SHE was the one who ended things, not Raine. And Raine is the one who keeps sticking around despite the way Evelyn treats her even long after that.

So. Yeah.

One of the students in the reading area frowned over at us. I grabbed Raine's sleeve and pulled her deeper into the private nook, out of sight of irritated library users. Raine apparently found all this extremely amusing. She couldn't keep the grin off her face. I put a finger to my lips.

"Shh!"

"Heather, please, please explain, where did that come from? I promise I'm not going to be mad, when— how— how did I ever give you that impression?"

I averted my eyes and bit down on the guilt. "Evelyn, uh, Evee, I mean, she visited me yesterday morning before we went to the library. We talked. About you. A bit." Raine raised her eyebrows and waited. I felt like a terrible friend and a far worse lover. I swallowed, needed real effort to squeeze the words out. "She said, and I quote, that you need 'a damsel in distress' so you can 'play at being a knight errant.' "

" … ow."

Raine puffed out a breath and put a hand over her heart. A flicker of genuine hurt passed across her face, the power of her usual grin showing through, but battered out of shape.

"Raine? I-I'm sorry, I—"

"Ow, jeez, Evee. That smarts. Damn." Raine mock-winced. "Maybe don't take everything Evelyn says at face value, yeah?"

I was mortified by the power of my own words.

Man, that's another relatable one right there. Realizing not only that people legitimately care about you, but also that your behavior can have a meaningful effect on them.

If you're used to thinking of yourself as weak and pathetic and having no power to influence the world, this can be REALLY hard to get your mind around.

Though at this point, I think Raine should be used to Evelyn telling people this. She seems to do so with very little provocation.

Apology wouldn't cut it now. Radical measures were required.

Oh man, Heather come on do it be a Stacy yourself I believe in you!

"Oh for pity's sake, we can't do this in the library." I grabbed Raine's hand and set about dragging her off somewhere that I could actually speak my mind.

* * *​

"Hey, Heather, just breathe, just take a moment, okay? We've got all the time in the world."

I was terribly out of breath, blushing and flustered at my own decision. I'd pulled Raine all the way from the library and led us up every one of the hundred and seventy-six steps of the back staircase in Willow House, to the poky concrete landing outside the Medieval Metaphysics room.

Awwww damnit Heather I thought those dragonfly monsters were about to get a show.

I'd intended to head inside, but instead I had to stop and let go of Raine to put my hands on my knees and concentrate on catching my breath.

Raine rubbed my back until I could stand straight, but I made a conscious effort to step away from her. She deserved my unencumbered honesty. I did my best to push my hair out of my face and into an approximation of decent order. Raine watched patiently, thumbs hooked into the pockets of her leather jacket, a curious look on her face.

"I … I don't even know how to phrase this." I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. "I've never had a conversation like this before."

"Start wherever you like. I'll keep up."

"Why do you like me?" I blurted out. A grin fought to surface on Raine's face as I raced to cover my tracks. I held up a hand. "Don't— don't answer that yet."

"Sure, okay. I could write an essay on it though, if you want."

"What Evee said—do you really like me just because I'm vulnerable? I don't want to think that, but I don't understand what you see in me, Raine. I'm not pretty, or particularly well turned-out. I'm small and scrawny. I'm a coward—"

"You're not."

"Let me finish. I'm not a very interesting person, either. I suppose I'm not a complete idiot but that's about all I have going for me. I'm no fun to be around. I'm hard work. Look what I've done this morning. I don't understand your interest, Raine."

On top of Heather's self-assessment being totally off, there's been enough indications from how other characters react to her that she could probably get a lot of interest with looks alone. I think I've mentioned this before.

Raine nodded, sagely and understanding, taking me very, very seriously. That look on her face was enough to start me on the road to feeling better already. I managed a shaky smile, was about to admit I knew I was being unfair on myself, and unfair on her, that I knew there must be things in me that I couldn't see. I began to compose an apology.

Well, baby steps I guess.

"Evee's right," said Raine.

" … what?"

She met my eyes without a hint of shame. "I know what I'm into, I know what I find attractive. I can't help that. I guess it's a little bit messed up, but not in the way you're likely thinking. I'd never force a role onto you, Heather."

Hmm. I'm not sure if Raine is saying the same thing I inferred before, or something different that probably makes her look worse.

My mouth hung open. Couldn't believe what I was hearing.

This reaction seems...idk. "Likes a damsel in distress" is not some kind of horrible admission. It's not a great look, sure, and it reflects some unhealthy attitudes and power-lust, but it's not like Raine said she killed a baby or something. It's notshocking. It doesn't singlehandedly make someone a bad person.

Also, like, being attracted to people who need rescuing doesn't mean you necessarily STOP being attracted to them after they are no longer in need of rescue. I doubt that Raine's entire sexuality revolves around rescuing helpless victims.

"You mean you … " I gulped. A bitter, borderline hysterical smile twitched onto my lips. I hiccuped. "I knew it. You don't want me to be brave, or—"

Raine shook her head. "Uh-uh. My turn."

"Wha—"

"I'm scared for you," she said, and put up both hands in surrender. "Regardless of whether or not we make out after this, or never touch each other again, I'm scared for you. I know what the message from Maisie means to you. I mean, hell, Heather, if I was in your shoes I'd do the same. I'd probably already be throwing myself at the Eye. Elbow-deep in it. Probably be dead. I get it. And I don't want you to get hurt."

I feel like there's something missing here? Like, Raine should have explained something more about her romantic feelings for Heather, and why they might not be as bad as Evelyn made it sound even if she still isn't exactly proud of them, before moving on back to the Maisie stuff.

She cut through every extraneous detail, right to the heart. Raine was a miracle, and I was not worthy.

I...don't know if this actually IS the heart, though? At least, as far as the two of them go.

"I'm scared too," I admitted. I sniffed hard and realised I was almost tearing up. Raine reached forward but I put a hand out to ward her off. I had to say this stuff. "But I don't want to be weak anymore or hide anymore. That's worse than fear of pain. Much worse."

"It nearly killed you the first time. The brain-math stuff."

"Maybe it doesn't have to! Maybe it can be mine, instead of inflicted on me. This isn't all about Maisie. It's about me, too."

A change came over Raine. She raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Ah. Ahhhh. There it is. Theeeere it is. You know what, Heather?"

I was trash, I was awful, a coward and a traitor; I left Maisie behind, I didn't deserve Raine, I didn't have it in me to hold any of this together.

"Know what?"

Raine cracked a grin. "You've convinced me. I'm in. I'm on board." I shook my head at her, lost. "Count me in. I'm still scared for you, I don't want you to bleed from your eyes or chuck your guts up, or worse. But if I tried to stop you? I think that would hurt you more. So, I'm in." She shrugged. "After all, protection is what I do. If you'll have me."

Okay, I think I see what Raine was getting at here. Yes, she likes herself a disempowered princess locked in a tower. Yes, it's possible she might not be quite as into Heather if Heather becomes more able to be happy on her own. But, her resistance to Heather wanting to lead the Maisie rescue operations herself had nothing to do with this, and was rather a measured response to seeing how much medical damage Heather does to herself when she uses her powers. Fair enough. I believe her.

I still think she should have talked about the nature of her feelings some more first before jumping back to those other concerns of hers.

I also think that she wasn't doing very good tactical thinking when deciding Heather shouldn't use her powers before, but I believe her that it was just bad calculation rather than having an ulterior motive.

"That … thank you … " I sniffed and wiped away the transient tears. "I do, Raine, I want … I like us. I really, really like you, but I still don't understand what you see in me."

Raine wet her lips with a slow flicker of her tongue, then took a step toward me. An aspect of her posture cut me off, the set of her shoulders, the way she moved, a new angle to her I'd never seen before.

"Slow it down, Heather. Lemme explain."

Thank you! Out of order, but good to have nonetheless.

I guess I might be forgetting that despite being by far the most emotionally mature member of the main cast, Raine is still only like...20? 21, at most? Just barely out of her teens, if not still in them. Being able to communicate your feelings honestly and coherently,let aloneefficiently and persuasively. I'm probably holding her to an unfairly high standard, just because the others make her seem older than she is by comparison.

"O-okay?"

"Yes, your vulnerability is part of the reason I like you. Not the only part. Not in the sense I want to exercise power over you or dominate your life. That would just make me a scumbag, and pretty unremarkable." She cracked a grin and leaned in closer, her voice dropping softer and softer. "And hey, I'm nothing if not remarkable."

"R-Raine, what—"

Raine put her hand against the wall next to my shoulder, boxed me in, emphasised the height advantage she had over me.

"Look at you." She smiled, bit her lower lip, and really looked at me in a way that made me blush hard and bright red. "You're small and mousy, you're so careful with what you say, you're so nervous about almost everything around you. It's so cute I could eat you. I think I will."

I spluttered. Very elegant.

Lmao.

"But I won't stop you from being strong," Raine continued, quieter and softer. She leaned in, dangerously close now. "No matter how much you change, you're always going to be Heather. Yeah, so maybe you learn to cut through solid steel with your mind, or command demons, or fight a god, but at the end of the day you're still gonna need a hug. You're still going to be shorter than me, and I'm still going to be able to pick you up and princess-carry you, and you can't do a thing about that."

Raine winked—and swept me off my feet.

She might be flawed. She might, under the surface, be nowhere near the larger-than-life eidolon of humanity that she can come across as. But still, though merely in the end a flawed mortal, Raine is nonetheless a grandmaster of the Way of the Stacy.

Literally, she ducked and grabbed me behind the knees too fast for me to react, tipped me back and lifted me up. I yelped in surprise, caught between a put-me-down wriggle and clinging to her for support. Raine laughed and held me up easily, grinning like a mad woman.

"And I would be honoured, Lady Morell," she said, "if even after you have ascended to Time Lord status, you still look to me for that hug."

I was going to wonder if Raine would actually watch Dr. Who, what with the lifestyle she lives and the amount of weird shit she already has to deal with in real life, but then I reminded myself that in England that show's cultural reach will hit you no matter who you are.

I'd never blushed so hard or felt so flustered. One arm around Raine's neck, the other flailing for outside support, I goggled at her, barely able to catch my breath.

"Oh my god, put me down!"

She laughed again but did exactly as I asked, tipping me and then depositing me straight onto my feet. I shook all over, but not with fear or adrenaline. A bizarre species of arousal gripped me, even when Raine took half a step back to give me space.

Sounds like totally normal arousal to me, but you're the expert on bizarre species Heather so I'll defer to your judgement in this matter.

I didn't know what to do with my hands. One of them fluttered to my chest, over my heart, but the other seemed to be a useless blob of meat, fingertips tingling as I gaped at Raine.

"Don't do that again without warning me," I managed to say.

"Can't make any promises there." She cracked a grin and I gave her a death glare. "You loved it, come on."

No response there. I had, despite my better judgement. She'd made her point incredibly well. She could see it in the way I averted my eyes, the way I swallowed my growing arousal, the way she made me feel when she handled me like that.

"So, Heather, are we together or not?"

" … can we be?"

"Why not?"

"Because our relationship is off to such a great start, isn't it? First kiss to first blazing row in under three hours. That's got to be some kind of record."

"You'd have to do a lot worse than that to put me off."

Raine waited, with apparently nothing left to say. I hesitated, still terribly flushed, one moment forcing myself to look at her, the next unable to even contemplate the smug, in-control expression on her face. Was this how relationships worked?

"I … well, I do want to … "

"Say it. Tell me what you're thinking. Put it into words, Heather. As clumsy as you like."

I looked at her. Really looked at her, and admitted to myself the thoughts I'd been unable to express even in the privacy of my own mind.

Raine was a masterpiece of athletic femininity. I hadn't been able to keep my eyes off her these last two weeks. How could she possibly feel the same way about me? From her collarbone to the way she flexed her calf muscles, from the subtle curve of her hips to the feathery chestnut of her hair, she was like something out of one of my teenage fantasies.

I forget how old Heather is. I thought like 19? Aren't all her fantasies teenaged fantasies, by definition?

And even if she's 20, I don't think her fantasies would have changed that much over the course of five months or whatever.

I'm being a total pedant, but Heather is also a total pedant, so she deserves it.

She could have anybody she wanted—it was terrible and wrong to think, but a weird, jealous, bitter part of me was convinced she could have any straight girl she wanted, let alone the eager partners she'd find in any lesbian bar. The city did have those, right? I had no idea, I was so isolated and behind and cast adrift.

Anybody she wanted. Big boobs, big laugh, big heart, any quality she desired. But instead, Raine had picked me, a scrawny, weird little disaster lesbian with a supernatural sword of Damocles hanging over my head and a growing desire to dedicate myself to a lost cause.

I mean, being with you doesn't mean...

...

......

FUCKING MONOGAMY

Seriously, I can't even explain how hard it is to submerge your head back into that deranged cult logic once you've freed yourself from it. It really, really, REALLY stops being intuitive.

"I'm not exactly a low-maintenance girlfriend," I said.

I mean, compared to Evelyn? I'd say you're pretty low maintenance.

Raine shrugged. "I don't give a shit."

"And you deserve better. I'm not fun, I'm not attractive—"

"You are! Hey, don't put yourself down like that." Raine pointed a finger-gun at me. "If we're going to be together, I'm making an executive decision. Every time you say something bad about yourself, I'll tickle you for sixty seconds."

I frowned at her. "Absolutely not."

She broke into a grin. "Are you ticklish? I haven't had a chance to test yet."

The best response in my experience is "stop talking about how boring you think you are, it's boring." But this works too.

"Don't you dare," I said, feeling that aroused pull in the pit of my stomach again. "Look, Raine, I'm ugly and I'm scrawny, there's nothing of me, at least not compared to you."

Raine cocked an eyebrow, looked down at herself, and puffed her chest out with a grin. "What, you jealous of my bomb-ass rack? S'yours if you want."

Face goes there. Now. Do it.

I gaped at her, blushing terribly, totally overwhelmed. After what felt like an eternity I managed to look away. "I … Raine, take this seriously. I want you, I really do, but I—"

Heather is hopeless lol.

Raine touched my chin and made me look up at her. "If I've been taking things too slow for you, too slow to show you what I think of you, we can go as fast as you like."

She kissed me.

It wasn't gentle this time.

She pushed me against the wall. Raine wasn't crude enough to shove her tongue down my throat, it wasn't like that. It was the way she handled me, moved me into position, took charge.

Nobody was around to see, but I was mortified anyway. Mortified and powerfully turned on. When she let me go, I put a hand to my chest and hiccuped twice.

"Th-that wasn't like this morning," I squeaked. Raine smiled, warm and confident, back to normal.

"Different kind of kiss," she said.

"I gathered."

She gave me a moment to recover. Rubbed my back. Tucked my hair behind my ears, gentle fingers against my cheeks.

"Wanna go back to your place?" Raine asked. "Breakfast can wait, Evee can entertain herself for an hour. Or three."

"Raine, neither of us has showered since yesterday. We're both disgusting. I need to go home and shower, not … not do anything sexy."

Raine's smile turned smug and teasing. "You're saying we both need to shower?"

"Yes, yes we do." I huffed.

"I can think of a way to save time doing that."

My heart stopped. I swear, it stopped beating. I wasn't sure if I wanted to slap her or let her pick me up again.

" … my—" I squeaked, took a deep breath, and put up as much token resistance as I could muster. "M-my flat's shower is too small for two people."

"Showering together?" Raine mimed shock. "Heather, so bold!"

"You—"

"You said it, not me." Raine raised both hands.

"You were heavily implying it. You insufferable wind-up!"

Raine laughed, a big good-natured belly laugh. "Well, the shower at my place isn't the best, but it's one hundred percent big enough. Fancy a walk?"

Heh. Like I said a couple chapters ago; Raine really shouldn't tease her like that, but I don't think I'd be able to refrain in her position myself, so no judgement.

Anyway, we're finally going to see Raine's own living situation. I've been curious.

My hands shook like doves and my heart was gearing up to fly out of my chest.

Like doves? Weird turn of phrase. Doves do wobble around as they walk, but...yeah, doesn't really track to trembling hands for me.

My face must have been tomato red. I'd never done this as a teenager, never fumbled through the first few steps of physical romance, had no idea what the proper etiquette was or how I was supposed to act. Weren't we supposed to, I don't know, go on a date first?

You did go on a date, that was the fleaman thing, remember?

My body said no. No wait. Now. Now.

I nodded. That was all I could manage. Raine slipped her hand around mine and squeezed.

"Hey, relax. It's just a shower," she said.

"Oh, shut up."

We didn't even make it out of Willow House before last night caught up with us.

Right, it's only been one night since that whole thing. I thought it had been two nights.

Yeah, they probably should have waited just alittlebit longer before leaving Evelyn's place.

Let's see if it ends up being Twil's people, or Lozzie's people.

I was far too busy imagining a million embarrassing things involving Raine in the shower to notice how many steps we took and how many sets of double doors we passed through. Too preoccupied with the feeling of her hand in mine, my own palms sweating, my heart ready to leap out of my chest, to notice the lack of other students or the eerie quiet in the top-floor corridor of Willow House.

Raine stopped before the doors to the main stairwell. I looked up, expecting a flirtatious joke or a teasing wink.

She was staring back the way we'd walked, with a frown on her face.

"Uh?" was all I could manage.

"That's odd," she muttered.

"What, what's odd?"

"Corridor seemed longer. Stairwell should have been one set of fire doors back."

"Oh, Raine," I sighed. "What are you talking about, it's right here." I let out a nervous, breathy laugh. She was as excited as me, losing track of space and time.

She didn't laugh.

In the stairwell, I stopped laughing too.

"Where are the windows?" I murmured.

Willow House's main stairwell should have been walled with a bank of windows on every floor, grubby brown glass set in concrete surroundings, gazing down across the main square on campus. At this time of day the stairwell should be flooded with weak sunlight, and echoing with the distant sounds of other students shuffling or hurrying up and down the building.

Blank white breeze-block wall. No windows. Fluorescent lights hummed.

Thaaaat's got to be Lozzie's people. They had a bit of space-warping shenanigans going on with that underground parking lot they were operating in, as I recall. Ramp descending deeper than it should have descended, or something to that effect.

Either they traced Twil back to the trio, or they got the nightgaunt to reveal who it was sent to and they want to tie up loose ends.

Well...in either of those cases, diplomacy might still be an option. But it's probably going to be much easier in the first case than the second, especially if they're willing to throw Twil under the bus. Which, let's be frank here, she totally deserves. In the second case, they'd probably have to convinceLozzie that she can have the gaunt when they've finished with it, and that trusting them to hand it over later would be less annoying than having to fight them. Like I said, harder case to make, especially if she's caught them on the back foot like this.

"Did we get turned around?" I asked. A veil of dislocation floated down over my brain.

Raine let go of my hand and stepped forward to peer over the railing. My heart almost missed a beat, and not in a good way. I scurried along after her.

"Huh," Raine grunted. "Ain't that unique."

I looked down, over the railing. Big mistake.

A wave of vertigo rocked me on my feet and swirled through my head. I clutched Raine's hand and held on tight.

The stairwell extended forever in an endless spiral, down and down and down, until the flickering lights gave out and darkness swallowed an impossible depth. Mile after mile of identical repeating steps and banisters. I looked up and found the same, a dizzying height stretching into infinity. I closed my eyes and my breath came out in sudden ragged gasps.

Chainsaw Man intensifies.

They should stick their hands out and look to see if they can see them by looking up and down. Would help them understand which particulartypeof spacewarping is being used.

"Hey, Heather." Raine squeezed my hand. She was so calm, so collected, so together. I opened my eyes and saw her perfect confidence. How was she not shaking in panic, how did she deal with that abyss above and below? "Ease down."

"I-I can't—"

"You can. Hundred percent. When weird shit happens, the best thing to do is stay calm."
I nodded. I knew that, in theory. "I'll try."

She gestured at the alien stairwell around us. "Did you dimension-hop us by accident? Got a little too excited?"

" … do you see blood coming out of my eyes? This wasn't me."

I'd be very amused if it turned out there was a dimension that looks exactly like the staircase they were just in only a million floors higher.

"Right." Raine pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen. "Okay, good news, we're still in Sharrowford."

"We are?"

She showed me the phone screen. Full signal.

I fumbled out my own phone and opened Google Maps. It showed us located in Willow House, exactly where we should be.

Signal still getting in. That to me suggests space-folding, and possibly only on a single axis. They should try walking back the way they came on the same floor and see what Raine's GPS does. I douuuuubt the enemy would think to spoof a signal, assuming they even know how to do that.

Granted, the other option is that there's no space warping, but rather an illusion or hallucination effect.

"The other best thing to do when weird shit happens is call Evee." Raine held her phone to her ear. I shuffled my feet and tried not to look at the yawning, impossible abyss as we waited for Evelyn to answer.

"Evee, hey!" Raine said into the phone. "It— yeah, yeah, it's fine, I— listen, listen, Heather and I have stumbled into some kind of … loop, in Willow House. Closed space, I dunno, like— yeah. Is this the surprise you left last night, for our weirdo cult friends?"

Hah. I'm surprised that possibility never occurred to me.

Then again, if Evelyn wanted to keep people out of that room, she'd have made it harder to find in the first place, not harder to escape from. Yeah, it's probably not her.

The fact that Raine thought to ask her means that she is capable of doing something along these lines, though. So if it comes down to it, Evelyn can potentially win a wizard duel with whoever is casting this; if the attacker was much more powerful, they'd probablyusesomething much more powerful.

A flush of relief washed over me. This was Evelyn's magic. Just a mistake. We'd stumbled into a trick meant for other people. She'd wave her hands and mutter some Latin and everything would be back to normal.

The chances were already bad enough before she went and jinxed it.

I heard some very exasperated noises from the other end of the phone. Raine winced.

"Yeah, okay," Raine said. "No, no, don't come here, no." A long pause. "Yeah. Don't keep us waiting. Bye for now."

"What did she say?" I asked. Raine stared at the phone, and I realised she was psyching herself up. She shot me a grin, but couldn't hide the tension.

"This isn't Evee's doing. She rigged the door of the Medieval Metaphysics room to give any intruders instant explosive gut pain. Not, uh … not this."

" … where are we then? Raine, where are we? What is this?"

Raine's smile died. She fixed me with a serious expression, and didn't let go of my hand. "You know how I said I'd probably overreacted last night? That those weirdos probably didn't even know who we were?"

"Yes?"

"I think I may have been wrong. We're in a trap."

Alright then. This chapter ends with...well, it only started getting action packed at the very end (and sadly not in the way Heather was hoping), but at least the talking and emoting had more concision and substance to them this time. I feel like the previous chapter could have been shortened to about 2/3 of its current length and fused with this relatively short one to make one long, but satisfying, breather episode.


So, the final chapter of "Providence or Atoms" will either quickly resolve the immediate conflict, or just finish building it up so it can be the substance of arc 3. Not sure which. The pacing of the latter half of this arc, with it promising a siege, NOT doing a siege, and then dragging itself out before doing something kinda sorta like the siege after all, is weird. Definitely room for improvement there.

So, probably early next week sometime I'll be doing chapter 2.12, making a final assessment of arc 2, and scratching this order off the queue.