Amy blinked awake to the soft light of morning leaking through thin curtains. Her head felt heavy, her body sluggish, like she hadn't truly slept at all. She groaned, rolled over... And froze. She was back in her bedroom. Same peeling wallpaper, same lopsided desk shoved against the wall, chat log with Void wide open on the computer screen, same suffocating smell of mildew and smoke.
Her chest tightened. No warm couch, no faint hum of a city outside. No Void. No Keira. No dumplings. Just the oppressive silence of the house she'd sworn she'd never return to. A horrible acidic thought crept in: "I imagined it all. Every second. None of it was real."
The door banged open before she could move. Her mother stood there, broad-shouldered, fury already in her eyes, like she'd been waiting for Amy to stir just so she could strike. The slap came so fast it snapped Amy's head sideways. She tasted blood, felt the sting flare bright across her cheek. "Get up, you useless brat," her mother spat, voice dripping venom. "Think you can run off into your little fairy tales? You belong here. You belong under me."
Another blow, harder this time, rattled Amy's teeth. She scrambled backward on the bed, heart hammering, the known terror fitting over her like a second skin. "Stop! Please-" But her voice was small, completly swallowed by her mother's rage.
Her father appeared in the doorway, watching with arms folded, not lifting a finger. His silence was louder than her mother's shouts. Louder than Amy's begging.
Her mother sneered. "What kind of girl lets herself starve just to spite her mother? You thought you were in control? No. You were weak. And no one will ever want someone like you." Another slap punctuated the words, each one a brand, a sentence carved into her memory.
Amy clawed at her face, her arms, desperate to feel something - anything - else but the onslaught wouldn't stop. The warmth she'd felt, Void's calm voice, Keira's smirk - it all fizzled out like smoke in the wind. "It wasn't real. None of it was real. I'm still here."
Her mother leaned in close, lips curling. "You'll die like this. Unloved. Unwanted. Nothing but a shame. You won't even have your own gravestone. People like you aren't even worth of an obituary."
Her mother's cruel laughter split the air. The move she landed next wasn't sharp anymore - it was heavy, a fist crashing into Amy's cheek, making her ears ring. Another followed, her knuckles digging in this time, and Amy reeled sideways on the mattress. The smell of blood mixed with the stale air, metallic and hot in her mouth. She tried to crawl back, but the wall met her spine, trapping her like an animal cornered for slaughter.
"Please!" Amy sobbed, voice breaking, her hands raised in a shield that never held. The next punch smashed through it, driving into her forearm, her ribs, her shoulder. She coughed, gasped for air, felt tears sting her eyes so hard she couldn't even see. "I'll be good, I'll- just stop- please!" But the words only seemed to fuel the storm. Her mother's sneer widened, each strike coming faster, angrier, like Amy's pain was the only thing that could feed her.
Amy rolled over, collapsing onto the floor, her arms now desperately trying to protect her head, her cries dissolving into a raw, wordless wail. She couldn't breathe between the sobs, couldn't think - only endure the endless rhythm of fists and laughter. Her body curled tighter with each hit, as if folding in on herself might make her disappear. "I'll do anything! Just don't hurt me anymore!" she screamed, her throat tearing, but it did nothing to stop the barrage of fists. The words meant nothing here - her mother's shadow loomed larger, her fists endless, her voice echoing: "unwanted, unloved, not worth remembering."
Her mother's voice dropped to a vitriolic purr, slithering straight into Amy's bones. She bent down, close enough for Amy to taste the cigarettes on her breath, and hissed, "You're not even worth hitting anymore..." The words twisted into a shrill laugh, and before Amy could recoil, a sudden blur of motion - her mother's foot connecting with her skull - exploded into blinding pain.
The world shattered. Her ears filled with the hollow thunk of impact, the floor rushing up around her, then a tearing scream ripped itself out of her throat. Her eyes snapped open, and she was no longer in her bedroom but in Void's living room, drenched in sweat, lungs burning as she shrieked at the top of her voice. The phantom pain of that kick still throbbed in her head, blurring the line between nightmare and reality. Her lungs dragged in air too fast, too shallow, sobs choking her throat raw. The blanket slipped to the floor as her whole body shook, sweat soaking her hairline.
The couch was - in fact - real. She was safe, but her body didn't really believe it. The ghost of her mother's voice still rang in her ears. Amy curled in on herself, clutching her arms tight, tears streaming down her face. The nightmare had ended, but the terror clung like shackles, refusing to let go.
The apartment erupted in chaos. Void stormed into the living room first, magenta hair wild, hands steady around the metallic-pink frame of a custom-built Malorian Arms Overture, barrel sweeping across the room with combat-trained precision. Behind her came Keira, barefoot but furious, wielding a spiked baseball bat like she'd been waiting to break bones with it. The tension in the air was thick enough to snap, both of them poised to tear apart whoever had dared threaten their home.
But there was no intruder. Only Amy - shaking, knees pressed tight to her chest, choking on sobs that wouldn't stop. Void froze, instantly lowering her gun, understanding flashed inside her as the pieces clicked. Keira's grip on the bat slackened, her green eyes flicking from Amy's trembling frame to the terrified Vector hunched in the corner, then back to Void's face - drawn, worried, and all too clear.
Void caught her girlfriend's eyes, gave the smallest tilt of her head towards the bedroom. Without breaking stride, she put the safety on, flipped the pistol around and pressed the grip into Keira's palm. No words were needed - Keira nodded, then slowly retreated.
Void crouched low, setting the distance between them like approaching a wounded animal. She eased down onto her knees, the faint creak of floorboards the only sound between Amy's ragged breaths. With her weapon gone from her hands now there were no more threats, no more sharp edges - just open palms resting lightly on her thighs. She let her voice slip into the softest register it had.
"Amy... Hey. It's me. Void. You're safe."
Amy didn't lift her head. Her knuckles were white where they clutched at the sheets, face buried, shoulders trembling under waves of sobs. Every breath seemed to scrape her throat raw. Void's words rolled over her like they were nothing but echoes from another world, and she kept herself locked tight in her own cage.
Void edged a little closer, slow enough to give Amy time to retreat if she wanted to. She tilted her head, watching, weighing, then softened her voice further. "No one's here but us. You're safe in our home. I promise."
Still, nothing. Just silence, broken by the muffled hitch of Amy's breath. Void let out her own exhale, not in frustration but in recognition. She knew this - knew when words hit walls too thick to break. She moved forward and - without pushing for permission she knew Amy couldn't give right now - slid her arms gently around the girl.
The hug was firm enough to serve as a proof, and just loose enough not to intrude. Warmth where the nightmare left cold. Presence where memory left absence. Void tucked her chin lightly atop Amy's hair, closing her eyes, waiting for the storm inside her to subside. She didn't ask her to stop crying, nor she awaited explanations. She simply held.
Minutes bled out. The sobs dulled from jagged edges to uneven tremors. Amy's rapid, shallow breathing began to slow in small increments. She shifted, not away but against, her forehead pressing into Void's shoulder like she'd given up the fight of holding herself apart.
When Void finally spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. "Was it... Her again? The dream?"
Amy gave the tiniest, shaky nod, a broken movement against Void's shoulder. It was the first, volatile acknowledgment. Void's arms tightened slightly in response, a protective instinct slipping through. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I wish I could drag her out of your head and throw her off a cliff. But she's not here. She can't touch you anymore. Not now, not ever again."
Amy's lips parted, but no sound came out. Only when Void relocated her hand to gently rub circles between her shoulder blades did a fractured whisper escape. "She won't stop. Every time I close my eyes... She's there."
Void closed her own eyes for a beat, steadying herself. "Then we'll face her together. If she wants to haunt you, she'll have to deal with me and my iron now, too. You don't have to fight her alone anymore."
Amy's breath caught again, but this time it wasn't pure panic - it carried a fragile thread of relief. Her fingers uncurled from the bedding and clung to Void's shirt now.
Void stayed quiet, doing her best to keep the silence safe rather than suffocating. One hand stroking her hair, the other tracing soothing patterns across her back.
At last Amy spoke with voice brittle as broken glass. "She slapped me. O-over and over. L-like she was... Testing how much I- I could take. My ears rang so hard I couldn't hear myself scream." She shuddered violently, pressing herself tighter against Void's chest.
"She can't touch you here. Never will."
Amy shook her head. "It wasn't just the slaps. She... She punched me. I felt my jaw crack. Couldn't breathe right. And then-" her voice faltered, strangled by a sob. "-there was blood. In- in my mouth. I was ch- choking on it while she- She just fucking laughed."
Void's chest tightened, but she said nothing, only smoothing her hand down Amy's arm in slow, steady passes. She tilted her cheek against Amy's temple, letting her warmth and heartbeat carry what words couldn't.
"Every hit felt real. She was carving me down to nothing. Like I deserved it. I kept tasting blood, even after I woke up." Her voice cracked hard at that, and her hands fisted tighter in Void's shirt.
Void pulled her impossibly closer, whispering low, calming words between each of Amy's ragged breaths. "You didn't deserve it. You never will. And none of that is real here. None of it."
The confession bled out of Amy until exhaustion overtook her, her body slackening against Void's hold. She murmured a soft "...thank you..." before slipping under. Void held her for a long while after, arms aching but unwilling to let go.
"Scare the shit out of me, then snore on my chest. Sure, be my guest. I was made for this." Her internal humor was dry, but the way her hand still stroked Amy's hair made it clear: she wasn't going anywhere.
Void let her thoughts drift a little longer, tracing the quiet rhythm of Amy's breathing against her chest, the soft weight of her presence being gravity she hadn't expected. A tired smirk tugged at her lips as she muttered "We're so fucked, Kei..." - a private little confession meant for no one but the ceiling, and maybe the universe.