Archive of Our Own

“These need to be cleaned. We need to keep this area as sterile as possible.” 

Lynn strung the sentence together quickly, anger making the words slam into each other like a highway pileup. She could feel heat rising to hear face, crawling uncomfortably up her neck from underneath the weight of the deathtrap around it. There was a shake in her hands that her voice matched; it was a miracle she’d been able to get the words out at all. 

Pulling the drill off of the table with a terrible scraping sound, Lynn turned for the door. If John said anything else, she couldn’t hear it. 

She felt his eyes on her as she slammed through the hanging plastic, and could feel the weight of his gaze even after they swished back into place behind her. She knew they were obscuring her then, making her into a softer mass of shape and motion, the same way he would be a blurred and tinted figure if she turned back to look at him. 

She didn’t turn around. 

Instead, she kept moving, not knowing where she was going. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she couldn’t go too far - the doors were the limit, but the room was vast enough that Lynn wasn’t even close to them yet. 

She wove her way in between tables and tools, seeing but not taking in what was around her. She stalked past deathtraps and plans for them, past collections of old, rusting metal that made the whole place smell like an unpleasant mix of blood and dust.  

None of them phased her, not then. She was seeing red, breathing erratically, flushed and angry. She wanted to scream, but kept walking instead. 

“Tell me about your husband,” John had said. 

Lynn felt her stomach twist, the familiarity of it out of place among the detritus of what may as well have been another world. Not even here, not even now, could she get away from it. 

“I’d give anything in the world,” Lynn had said, looking down at her wedding ring. She’d felt the same pressure in her chest, the usual squeezing sickness that came when she thought too much about it only compounded by the weight of the mechanism around her neck.

She’d taken a deep breath, swallowed the feeling down, and finished, “…to see my husband.” 

It wasn’t untrue, not really. But it was the same way she would give anything to see her bed, or her car, or even the break room at the hospital with its coffeemaker that always leaked. She would give anything to see something that wasn’t the makeshift hospital bay or the yawning, cavernous warehouse it was housed in. It wasn’t about seeing her husband; it was about living to see another day. 

But John, sanctimonious as always, had gone further. Comments about their relationship, as though he could ever understand. Jabs about her affairs, which had made the dual heat of anger and mortification well up under her skin. Talking like he knew her or why their marriage was crumbling, like he could ever understand the pain they’d gone through, or the tightly coiled and carefully avoided truths Lynn lived with. 

That was when she’d left, confident enough that John wasn’t about to die that she let her anger guide her out and away. 

She stopped in front of another metal table, this one holding an array of chains and a toolbox. Without thinking, Lynn slamming the drill down on it, letting a frustrated sound slip out as she did. 

It made a satisfying metallic crash, echoing loudly in the lofty space. 

She wanted to pick it up and slam it again, to throw it as hard as she could into the mess of metal around her, to break as many things as she could and scream until her voice was shot. 

But that was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to lose herself like that.

Instead, she snatched her hand away from the drill as if it had burned her. She gripped the edge of the table, trying to focus on the feeling cool metal against her rage-hot skin. 

Lynn closed her eyes and let her head fall, chin almost brushing one of the chambers surrounding her neck. A loose section of hair had slipped out of the elastic band holding it back, tickling her cheek. It moved with her heavy breaths, brushing against her warm cheek. 

This wasn’t the place, and now wasn’t the time, to think about this. There would never be a time to think about it. That was something Lynn knew. Had always known. 

She’d gotten good at ignoring it - good enough to make it this far. 

But everything had it’s limits, and the pressure of grief had made little cracks in her carefully constructed dam. She’d tried to stop the gaps, to fill them with extra shifts at work and extra drinks at the bar and extra nights spent with men who wouldn’t ask why, and it hadn’t worked. Yet. Lynn was sure that if she had more time, more of all of those things, she could still stop it before the whole thing was collapsing and leaving her to drown in the flood. 

The gaps were still there, and growing. If she though the pressure before had been constricting, this was suffocating. 

She gripped the table tighter, imagining she could hold herself and her thoughts together by sheet force of will. But still, they came through in steady spurts, and with nothing to hold out for - no more likely tomorrows to pawn the flood off on - they slipped through her grip in an impossible to stop barrage of emotion. 

Lynn was so focused on the familiar ritual of coercing her feelings into a shape that fit with the rest of the world that she didn’t notice the quiet footsteps approaching her corner of the warehouse. 

“Is he alright?”

“Fuck,” Lynn breathed, nearly jumping as she whirled around to the source of the voice. 

It was Amanda, of course, staring at Lynn unblinking. 

“My brains aren’t splattered around the room yet,” Lynn said without thinking, “so yes, I’m sure he’s fine.” 

The words dripped venom in the otherwise quiet room, and Lynn slammed her mouth shut after she realized what she’d said. She shouldn’t have been mouthy about it, not when she’d already seen how quickly Amanda could swing between emotional extremes. The silence after she spoke seemed to stretch into infinity, a cold wash of fear leaving of Lynn’s anger a smoldering pile of embers instead of an uncontainable blaze. 

Then, to her surprise, Amanda’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile. 

“Well, I guess that’s true,” she said, voice amused, but not angry. She seemed almost impressed by Lynn’s flippancy about the possibility of her own death.

Lynn let out a breath of relief. The moment seemed to come back to real time, and Lynn lowered her hands from the quasi-defensive position they’d risen to at Amanda’s arrival.  

“He’s resting.” 

“Good,” Amanda said, mostly to herself. “He said you were the best. Keep proving it.” 

Her tone was still oddly pleasant and a far cry from the high intensity emotion of the last time Lynn had seen her. But there was still a sharp edge to the praise, like a flower wrapped in razor wire. The traces of a smile still graced Amanda’s features, but something gave the impression that if she showed her teeth, they’d be the sharp fangs of a predator. 

Amanda locked eyes with Lynn for a moment, and her eyes were dark. She lowered her gaze to the device around Lynn’s neck, unblinking. Lynn stayed still, watching as Amanda’s gaze slipped down still, following the line of Lynn’s arm to the table and landing somewhere to Lynn’s left. 

“So,” she said after a moment. “What’d the drill do to you?”

“What?” Lynn blinked, brows furrowed. 

“I’m assuming,” Amanda said, as though Lynn were slow, “that the sound I heard was that hitting the table.” She jerked her chin towards the power drill as she spoke. 

Lynn said nothing. Amanda took that as a sign to continue, her tone lightening a little from what had started as pure condescension. 

“Unless you touched something you shouldn’t have, and broke it. Or set it off. But you’d probably be bleeding, in that case. And I didn’t hear any blood curdling screams.” 

She smiled again like something was really funny, red tinted lips a slash against her pale skin. 

Lynn found herself looking at Amanda - really looking at her - for the first time. 

Her face was pale, her eyes dark and tired looking. Amanda was close enough to Lynn that she could make out a few freckles dusting her nose and cheekbones. Her hair framed her face, mostly held back in a sort of bun, sort of ponytail, with only a few rogue pieces hanging on either side. And her lips, Lynn had noticed, were stained a dark, pinkish red.

For a moment, the idea of vampires came to mind - lips stained with blood only made more vibrant by Amanda’s pale skin. 

But then Lynn’s eyes wandered beyond the high contrast hue, to either side of Amanda’s mouth. Shiny, pale scar tissue snaked out of the edges of her mouth, continuing the line of her lips. One on each side, both jagged and uneven against her otherwise smooth skin. 

For some reason, Lynn thought back to the mass of metal that had caught her eye earlier, all arcs and teeth. 

Amanda had seemed drawn to it too, and it suddenly clicked into place in Lynn’s mind. 

It had been in the news, on the radio, on the cover of every tabloid Lynn tried to avoid: Amanda Young, brave and unfortunate survivor, and the terrible headgear that would have torn her head in two. Would have split her face starting from the mouth and going all the way around, shattering her skull. 

Lynn let out a harsh breath, feeling suddenly cold. Of course. 

The scars seemed blatant now that she’d connected the dots, and she forced herself to tear her eyes away from what she knew.

She ended up locking eyes with Amanda instead, and she was struck by two things: Amanda was, true to her name, so very young. She couldn’t have been more than a year or two off from Lynn’s own age in either direction, and the realization gave Lynn a pang. The second was that Amanda was pretty - in a sad and sharp way, but nonetheless. Maybe the sharpness, the potential for danger and rage that Lynn had already seen, was part of the beauty. 

Amanda hadn’t moved while Lynn stared, hadn’t interrupted or snapped at her. Even now, she stared back at Lynn, totally still. 

After a moment she tilted her head almost imperceptibly, raised one eyebrow just slightly. She blinked at Lynn slowly, taking her in as she surveyed her in turn. 

It was the curious stare of an animal, but not the kind that you’d see in one that was frightened. This wasn’t the alarmed locking of eyes between a wild cornered animal and a predator, wasn’t the wide-eyed look of a rabbit that hears you move and freezes, unblinking. It wasn’t the gaze of a prey animal locking onto that of a predator, something shocked and nervous and ready to run. 

If it was, it was in reverse, and Lynn could for the first time understand what the lone squirrel or rabbit in the grime of the city might see when it gazes up at her, caught off guard. 

Amanda’s curiosity was almost casual, the ghost of an expression that betrayed no hint of alarm or urgency. It had an air of boredom to it, or maybe it was that she was finally seeing an end to her boredom. She was looking at Lynn like she was seeing her new, as something that might not be what she expected. 

Lynn had never experienced it, but she imagined it would be the kind of stare you’d be met with if you you took a wrong turn at the zoo and stepped into the enclosure of a severely under-enriched predator. 

She shivered. 

Of course, this was no zoo enclosure. There was no glass, no bars, no fences between her and the woman staring intently at her. It was more apt to say it was like wandering into the den of a wild animal, or stumbling upon her in her own domain. 

If anyone was restrained, it was Lynn in her heavy collar, a solid weight against her chest and around her neck. Caught in the trap. Stuck in the snare. 

And more than that, Amanda was free in a primal way that Lynn never had been. Of course it was horrific - they were people, not animals. Some freedoms shouldn’t be followed through on. But still, it was freedom, undeniably.

Amanda was a criminal. A murderer. A deeply, truly troubled indiviudal. And Lynn wasn’t jealous, not in the sense of wishing she was the one with blood on her hands, but she envied the fact that Amanda wasn’t weighed down.  Somewhere in her mind, Lynn recognized that the societal expectations, the endless “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” that kept Lynn’s chest feeling tight and her mind carefully divided into who she was and who she wasn’t allowed to be, no longer applied to Amanda. 

The whole warehouse existed somewhere beyond the pressure that kept Lynn crushed into shape, a few thousand square miles plucked out of society that defined itself without the rules of reality. It sounded magical, and in a way it was - but it was dark, too, like the original Grimm fairy tales. Freedom from all the restraints of the outside world, including a complete unmooring from all safety nets that you’d taken for granted amidst the stifling mess. A nightmare zone carved out of the heart of the city, where expectations didn’t apply and society’s laws gave way to the much baser rules of survival. 

What existed outside, Lynn realized suddenly, felt more like the dream. The nightmare was the reality and the normal was the dream, something far away and unimportant. In an abstract sense, on an animal level, of course Lynn wanted to get back to it. But would she? Would anything outside of the cool gray walls and the fluorescent lights and the pounding threat of survival ever be real again? If she couldn’t get back to it, then did it matter? 

If she was going to die, what was the point of suffocating herself any longer? 

Lynn let out a breath she hadn’t been conscious of holding and felt it loosen something in her. A suffocating pressure she’d grown so used to was uncurling itself from around her, releasing its grip as her dread made the outside world get further away. 

There was nothing she could do in here that could make her life out there any worse. There may not even be any more life out there, Lynn knew. The end of everything could be right around the corner here, lurking somewhere between the endless metal tables and cabinets and strange devices. But certainly, those rules that Lynn had so carefully abided were no longer relevant. There were new rules here, but those were different. Those were metal and blood and life and death, primal instead of superficial. 

When Lynn sucked in another breath of rust flavored air, for the first time in a long time, the familiar pressure was gone. Instead there was only the weight of the trap around her neck.

The old rules didn’t matter. 

Lynn breathed out again, and the pressure dissipated further. 

There was freedom in the nightmare, and you could reach out and touch it with your own blood stained hands. 

Lynn took a step forward, towards Amanda. 

“I didn’t touch anything,” she said slowly, calmly. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, as it broke the relative silence of the warehouse. “I’m not running again.” 

Amanda continued to watch her, searching Lynn’s face. She didn’t budge as Lynn moved towards her, the only motion a shift in her face. Some kind of amusement mingled with the bored curiosity, and a trace of something else began to seep into Amanda’s steady gaze. 

“Well, good girl. Someone’s learning.”

There was that same condescension in Amanda’s voice, that sharp edge of cruelty that seemed to weave through everything that came out of her lips. But there was something else, too - a slight breathiness that hadn’t been there before, a lowered timber that echoed pleasantly in the empty space. 

Lynn had moved close to Amanda, settling near enough Amanda’s planted feet that her shoes almost brushed the edges of Amanda’s boots. Without them, Lynn realized absently, Amanda would have had to look up at Lynn. As it was, they stood eye to eye, nearly toe to toe. 

Amanda tilted her head again questioningly, that heavy gaze of animal curiosity only deepening with Lynn’s sudden closeness. She waited a moment in silence, her eyes moving across Lynn’s face. Flicking down for a moment, and then back up, darker. 

Whatever answer she’d been looking for, she hadn’t found. 

“What?” Amanda asked, rolling the word languidly around her mouth before letting it slip out into the space between them. Her tone was half-mocking and half-genuine curiosity, all in that new pitch. 

Lynn, somewhere in her subconscious, suddenly thought that she may have lost her mind. Maybe this was a nervous breakdown, a total disconnect brought on by the stress of the situation. But she didn’t feel nervous, exactly, or at least not exclusively. And if she’d lost her mind, then she’d also lost the part of it that would prompt her to care. 

She kept her eyes locked with Amanda’s for as long as she could, leaning slowly forward and to one side until she was so close that she could no longer meet Amanda’s gaze. 

Amanda didn’t move, staying completely still as Lynn invaded her space. 

Her face was right next to Amanda’s when she stilled, closing her eyes. A strand of Amanda’s hair brushed Lynn’s nose, moving on her exhale. They stood that way for what felt like an endless moment, neither woman knowing what exactly was about to be said. 

“I’m going to die here,” Lynn whispered eventually, low and throaty and right in Amanda’s ear. The breath that carried the words brushed hot against Amanda’s skin, close enough to shift the loose hairs and tickle her cheek.

Because of the way her face was angled, Lynn was perfectly positioned to hear the sudden sharp breath Amanda took in response, and to feel the low, shaky breath that came after. 

Goosebumps rose on Lynn’s skin at the combination, tingling across her arms. 

Lynn was going to die there. She’d realized it was true as she said it, could feel it somewhere deep in her bones - deeper than the parts of her that had ever wished for it in dark and private moments. She didn’t want it to be the truth, wanted to cling to the possibility of her own survival, but it was something primal. Just like everything else in that space and time outside of the normal reality, this, too, was something beyond Lynn’s crushing normal. 

And she found that more than anything, she didn’t want that to be it. Didn’t want her life to expire like a low burning wick that finally sputtered out, that had resigned itself long ago to its own slow suffocation. The thought of the outside, of its weight and its expectation and its performances that kept her burning low towards this ultimate ending, left her feeling empty. She didn’t want her existence to culminate in such a gaping maw of hunger and despair and lies, so many lies, stacked precariously one on top of the other until she was trapped in them and couldn’t even think of removing one for fear that her whole life would collapse on top of her. That her very self would crumble and reveal that there was nothing under the grand tower of dishonesty, just a great yawning nothingness that gave way to the sudden end without ever fighting it. 

She didn’t want this to be it. But she didn’t want that to be it, either. 

There was nothing more to lose. No more tomorrows to pretend for. 

Lynn stepped closer, her feet finding their way into the spaces next to Amanda’s. One foot between and one foot outside of. Still not touching, but having clearly broken the invisible straight line that could have been drawn between the edges of their shoes moments earlier. 

Amanda didn’t move, her breaths low and warm against Lynn’s cheek. 

Somehow, Lynn wasn’t surprised by Amanda’s stillness. She shifted her weight and turned her head slowly enough that Amanda had ample time to push her away, but that same bone deep knowledge told Lynn that she wouldn’t. 

The space between them had shrunk so deftly that Lynn could feel heat rolling off of Amanda’s body in waves, matched by the fire that was pulsing a steady thrum through Lynn’s veins. She had to maneuver her neck carefully to avoid brushing against Amanda’s face as she angled her head away from Amanda’s ear.

Amanda’s eyes were huge and dark when Lynn had finally shifted enough to see them again. Green and brown had been swallowed up by her blown out pupils, darkness expanding to devour as much as possible. The boredom and curiosity were gone, replaced by something equally animal but much hungrier. Her gaze was unimaginably dark, weighty and wanting and starving. Carnivorous.

Amanda’s breaths were heavy and low, far more than close enough for them still to be warm as they brushed across Lynn’s skin. 

Lynn glanced down for a moment at the source of the feeling. Amanda’s lips were parted slightly with her breathing, so close now that Lynn could clearly trace the scars stretching from each corner; so near that she could see where the blood stain color gave way to slick, natural pink on the inner curve of Amanda’s lower lip. 

She looked back up to meet Amanda’s heavy gaze. The other woman shifted slightly for the first time in many long moments, just barely closer to Lynn, and that was enough.

Lynn leaned forward, and the warm breath on her face was abruptly cut off. Instead was the warm pressure of skin on skin, Amanda’s lips on hers. They were soft, somehow softer than Lynn expected. 

The contact only lasted for a moment before Amanda’s hands came up from her sides and met Lynn’s waist, shoving her hard. 

“What the fuck?”

Lynn stumbled a few steps back, caught her footing, and waited. Amanda didn’t sound angry, exactly. She was surprised, irritated, but there was still that breathiness in her voice that hadn’t been there before. 

“What the fuck was that,” Amanda demanded. She moved to take a step forward, towards Lynn, then paused mid-step; instead, she planted her feet wide and crossed her arms, fingers digging into the flesh on her upper arms. 

Lynn breathed out shakily, closing her eyes. 

It was a fair question, wasn’t it? What the fuck was she doing? But then again, everything happening was so beyond normal that that - letting go and taking that brief moment of surprising softness - seemed to be the least of her worries. She couldn’t find it in herself to feel as horrified as she should at the slip; if she was practically a dead woman walking, then she might as well go out with one fucked up little moment of truth. 

“You can’t do that,” Amanda said, voice pitched low. She waited, but Lynn said nothing. “You can’t just—“ she let out a sharp breath. 

Lynn opened her eyes slowly. Amanda was still standing with her arms crossed, which was good - she hadn’t pulled out a knife, or a gun, or some other horrific option. All she had was her tight grip on her own arms, like she was trying to hold herself together. 

Her brow was drown low, her mouth a sharp frown. Her eyes were still dark, and her face was clouded with a combination of anger, embarrassment, and confusion. Underneath, Lynn could still see whatever it was she’d been close enough to identify before - that hungry want, that something that had made Lynn sure Amanda would let it happen in the first place. 

She didn’t seem to be flying off the handle, which was good. It had been a risk, Lynn knew, especially having seen the breakneck speed at which Amanda’s reactions could change. But this wasn’t rage. More than anything, it seemed like confusion. 

Some conflict was playing out behind Amanda’s eyes as Lynn stared back at her. She bit her lower lip, tightened her grip on her own arms, then seemed to reach a conclusion.

“I’m not going to help you.”

It wasn’t entirely what Lynn had been expecting her to say. Before she could speak, Amanda barreled on. 

“I’m not going to help you. You can’t just - just what, charm me? Buy me, like - like this is some fucking exchange? I don’t want—“ Amanda snapped her mouth shut, the twitch in her jaw making the scars along her mouth shift.  She looked embarrassed, having trouble holding Lynn’s gaze. “If you thought that would work you’re even more fucking stupid than I thought you were. I’m not that fucking cheap.“ 

Amanda’s face was flushed, light pink flooding across her cheekbones. She seemed to suddenly realize the implication in her sentence, that there was a level of cheapness that could be reached that would make a difference. 

“It’s not like that. You’re not - you’re not here for me,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out with a bitter edge. “It’s not about me. You’re here to play the game, to be a fucking doctor, to make sure he lives, not to whore yourself out for help that I. Won’t. Give you. Fuck,” she breathed as punctuation, fingers having tightened to a white knuckle grip on her arms. 

“I wasn’t whoring,” Lynn finally said, indignation prickling under her skin. “I wouldn’t—“

“I heard what John said about you and your husband. Getting around like that would ruin any marriage.” 

“Fuck you,” Lynn shot back, not thinking. “As if you understand—“

“Fuck me? Isn’t that your line?” Amanda interrupted, shifting her weight. Her grip on her arms loosened as she moved.

Lynn gaped at her. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” she finally sputtered, feeling a flush on her own face. 

“Oh,” Amanda said, voice dripping sharp condescension, “I think I do. You’re pretty…” she paused, looking at Lynn with dark eyes. “Easy.” 

Lynn shook her head incredulously. What the fuck were they doing? What was she doing? Why had she thought that now was the time to let this get the best of her, that *Amanda was someone who could wring this out of her, that it was worth it? Of course, if this had been another place, another life…Amanda was pretty, sharp and funny, and she could hold her own in ways Lynn envied. Maybe…

But this wasn’t another life, and this was all a huge mistake. She needed to step back, calm down, and make it through the rest of this nightmare. 

“I wasn’t doing that so you would help me.” 

That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. 

Amanda snorted, rolling her eyes. Her lips twisted up into a sharp, mocking grin. 

“Right. You just had a sudden overwhelming change of heart,” she said, unimpressed. 

“Something like that,” Lynn replied, her mouth operating without permission of her brain. Maybe this was the mental breakdown, rather than the act itself. She fid feel dangerously unbalanced, tipping on the edge of a heavy something and at risk of tumbling into the unknown. 

Amanda stopped smiling, her expression darkening

“I just - so much of it is bullshit. Out there,” Lynn said, laughing a little bit. “So much of me is bullshit. It’s all a little game out there, too, but no one wants to call it that.” 

She stopped, breathing in slowly. 

“I’m going to die in here,” she repeated, and it wasn’t hysterical. It wasn’t desperate - she wasn’t begging. She was stating a fact, clinical the way only someone who dealt with death daily could be. 

The words were static in the air, buzzing in the empty space. 

“Maybe,” Amanda replied, her voice low and little more than a whisper. 

“Maybe,” Lynn agreed, unblinking. “But if this is it - I don’t want to keep playing that. There’s no point. If this is it, I’m tired of all the bullshit. I’m tired of following along with it.”

Lynn stopped, not sure what else to say. She wasn’t going to try it again, wasn’t going to beg. She didn’t want to have to explain, clearly, what she meant. But strangely, she felt like Amanda was hearing her. Actually heating her, actually seeing her, not just accepting the stupid act that everyone in Lynn’s life outside of this warehouse seemed to. 

“Don’t you ever want to do something, just for yourself? When everything else is - god, it’s bullshit, all the time, and you almost forget how to stop it at all?” Lynn added, the words coming out in a rush.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears and under her skin, hot and fast and nervous. She wanted Amanda to understand, because she needed someone to, before the end. If it all ended here, then what she wanted more than anything was to get out from under the bullshit and be understood as a real, whole person for the first time in a long time. There was nothing to lose, except for this chance at a single moment for herself.

The warehouse hummed with its soft symphony of electricity and air conditioning, waiting in the aftermath of Lynn’s words. 

And if Amanda had been coming around slowly, her expression as still and taut as the steady sounds of the room around them, that seemed to cause whatever was changing to move faster. Something shifted in hr face, and she was really looking at Lynn. There was a flash of something raw in her eyes, something dark and hurt and mote than anything, tired. But it was gone quickly, replaced by a different kind of darkness in her gaze. 

“Yes,” Amanda said simply, her voice low. 

She dropped her arms to her sides and flexed her fingers, staring at Lynn. After a moment, she took one step towards her.

On instinct, Lynn took one step back. Amanda watched her do it, eyes flicking down to her feet and then trailing up her body to come back to her face. She tilted her head to the side, questioning, as she searched Lynn’s face. Whatever she found there must have entertained her, because a slight smile crept across her face. 

Lynn’s mouth felt dry. It wasn’t a sinister smile, exactly, but paired with the look in Amanda’s eyes, it was enough to make her pulse jump.

Amanda took one step forward, smooth and sure, then another. All the while she kept that gaze locked on Lynn, dark and open in the way that a black hole was - hungry and raw and inescapable, but with none of the coldness of space. The look was warm- hot, even - and vast. It had Lynn backing up again, step for step matching Amanda’s advance. 

Amanda found that wildly entertaining, her grin spreading into a full blown smile as she moved towards Lynn. She looked so confident, so sure as she moved - she was for every inch the predator, the hunter, unafraid and in control of the situation. 

Lynn took another step back and jumped as the edge of the metal table hit her lower back. 

Amanda stopped, no more than two steps away from Lynn, when she noticed that Lynn had hit the table. She was breathing in and out through parted lips, her gaze swallowing Lynn whole. 

And Lynn was really cornered this time, trapped in more ways than just by the collar around her neck. Her heart was pounding unevenly, her face flushed. This was something real, finally - something alive. She had a hard time remembering when the last time was that her heart had made itself known like this, its strong ba-bump, ba-bump beat hot and loud under her skin. Not since college probab;y. Not since beofre the world had become real, had demanded endless fakeness fromher in order to weather it.

Lynn breathed heavy as Amanda watched her, her hands finding their way to the rdge of the table behind her. She grabbed onto the cool metal, to ground herself as she tried not to fidget or flinch under Amanda’s gaze. 

That gaze traced Lynn’s face, down the collar and around, over her arm and back down her side. Down her legs, to the floor, and back up to her face. Amanda let out a little sigh as she locked eyes with Lynn. Lynn wondered if her own gaze was anywhere near as heavy and dark with dizzying want as Amanda’s had become.  

Lynn curled her fingers around the edge of the table, holding her breath. The moment stretched into eternity, a dangerous tension bubbling in the air. 

And then suddenly, it snapped: Amanda took two swift steps forward, reached out, and pressed her lips to Lynn’s. 

Lynn closed her eyes and leaned back into the table instinctively. Amanda chased her, pressing her body closer to Lynn’s. This kiss wasn’t the strange, tentative press of the first - there was something hungry right away, Amanda’s lips moving with insistence on Lynn’s.

Amanda’s hands, which had stayed by her side as she closed the gap, were suddenly on Lynn’s arms. She wrapped her fingers around Lynn’s wrists tightly, pinning Lynn’s hands in place. Her grip was searing hot as she pressed her weight down slightly and squeezed Lynn’s wrists almost enough to hurt.

Lynn gasped into the kiss, both from the sudden pressure and the desperate need for air. 

Amanda followed her motion, using the opportunity to slide her tongue along the inner curve of Lynn’s lip. She squeezed Lynn’s wrists lightly to draw a half gasp out of her, enough that she could push her tongue past the parting of Lynn’s lips and brush against the top of her mouth. 

Lynns fingers curled up of their own accord at the sensation, straining up against Amanda’s grip. 

She smiled into the kiss, pressing down against them. 

“Mm-mmm,” she hummed, singsong, into Lynn’s mouth. The sound vibrated in Lynn’s teeth. She twitched, pressing forward against Amanda’s body, pressing up against the pressure of Amanda’s weight that held her against the table. All it did was bring Amanda nearer, her presence pressing the edge of the table harder against the small of Lynn’s back. 

Lynn let out a sharp sigh, opening her eyes. Amanda was watching her, their breath mingling in the sliver of space between their spit-slick lips. Her pupils were huge again, blown out and dark. 

When Lynn shifted her wrists again, twisting slightly in Amanda’s grip, Amanda looked down at them. When she looked back up, she was grinning slightly, and it was gorgeous. 

She leaned into Lynn’s space, pressing her cheek against Lynn’s as if to speak into her ear. Amanda changed her mind at the last second, instead pressing her lips to Lynn’s temple. She kept her grip on Lynn’s wrists steady as she kissed down the edge of Lynn’s jaw. 

Lynn was breathing heavy, staring at the warehouse as Amanda’s mouth moved in a wet, warm path along the edge of her face. When Amanda pushed harder against her and dropped her mouth to the skin of Lynn’s neck, Lynn’s gaze rolled up to the ceiling. When Amanda started to suck on that soft flesh, tongue working softly over the blood-rush sensitive skin, Lynn’s eyes squeezed closed completely. 

“Fuck,” she breathed, feeling Amanda hum against her skin. 

Amanda kept her mouth moving, leaving a trail of hot, tingling spots behind as she went. She moved slowly down Lynn’s neck, kissing and sucking on her skin. Her teeth occasionally scraped against the skin, making Lynn’s breath catch. 

Lynn rolled her shoulders, turning her head to expose more of her neck to Amanda, who moved down onto the new flesh greedily. It wasn’t until she felt Amanda’s jaw knock lightly against it that she remembered the collar she had on, the one that could kill her in an instant. 

She froze, breath hitching. One wrong move, that was what was threatened earlier. This was more than just dangerous in some abstract, psychological way - this could kill her. 

If Amanda noticed, she didn’t seem bothered; she was sucking on the skin just above Lynn’s collarbone, right in the hollow of her throat. After a moment of Lynn’s rigid, breathless fear, she pulled her mouth away from the skin. It felt suddenly cold, lacking the warmth of Amanda’s lips. 

“Don’t worry,” she said, voice almost a whisper. She looked up at Lynn, and her grin was all sharp teeth. “I know exactly what we can get away with.”

Lynn remembered Amanda’s smile earlier, the ghost of her voice echoing, “I built it.” in Lynn’s mind. 

Amanda watched the realization settle in, Lynn's petrified silence breaking with a shaky sigh. Her gaze flitted across Lynn’s face, drinking in the moment of fear. She licked her still-smiling lips, blinking slowly at Lynn.

“Trust me.” 

Lynn swallowed heavily, still frozen, but said nothing. 

Amanda seemed to take that as a sign of assent. When she ducked her head down again she nosed along Lynn’s neck, shifting the collar with her chin. Lynn gasped. Her hips bucked slightly, the sudden awareness of exactly what kind of danger she was in making her dizzy. 

Amanda’s mouth worked on the newly exposed skin, each motion of her tongue and lips causing tiny shifts against in the weight against the collar. 

Lynn groaned, and she could feel Amanda’s smiling teeth brush against the warm skin. She worked at that spot for long enough that Lynn’s fear turned hot and molten, a rush of endorphins that burned pleasantly under her skin in a way that nothing else ever had. Satisfied with the point she’d made and the way Lynn’s scared gasps had turned into breathy moans and involuntary twinges, Amanda moved on. 

She worked her way back up, away from the collar on the other side of Lynn’s neck. Amanda’s hair tickled the sensitive skin and Lynn bit down on her own lip, breathing heavily.

Amanda’s lips stopped at the place just below where Lynn’s jaw met her ear, still holding Lynn’s wrists steady. She lapped at the soft skin, where Lynn knew her pulse was pounding under the skin. She wondered if Amanda could feel it, could taste the solid rhythm on her tongue, could—

Lynn gasped, her eyes flying open. Amanda’s jaw was already loosening, the sharp, unexpected pressure of her teeth replaced by her soft tongue, almost in apology. She soothed the bite, right over the pulse point, with another wet kiss, and Lynn was reminded once again of vampires.  

When Amanda leaned back, Lynn stopped herself from whining. Instead, she breathed out and forced herself to look at Amanda, who was admiring her handiwork on Lynn’s neck - it was surely a mess of bruising already, blood pooling under the skin where Amanda had tempted it to the spit-shiny surface. The thought made Lynn flush, her body twitching. 

At the motion, Amanda dragged her gaze up Lynn’s neck and to her eyes. Her tongue darted out over her already wet lips, which were even redder from her ministrations than they had been before. 

Lynn strained again slightly under the look, breath uneven. 

Amanda grinned lazily, enjoying the squirming. After letting Lynn struggle for a moment, she squeezed her wrists and Lynn stilled. 

“Look at me,” she demanded, and Lynn did, meeting her hungry gaze. She was close enough that Lynn could only see her, her dark eyes seeming to be the center of the universe. They ripped away from Lynn’s for a moment, down to Lynn’s lips - not quite close enough to touch Amanda’s, but near enough that she could feel each breath. 

When she looked back up, there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. 

“Are you gonna behave?” She asked, each word a warm breath against Lynn’s lips. 

Lynn huffed a light laugh, getting struck with the strangest and most distant sense of deja vu. She leaned in to close the distance, but Amanda leaned out of reach, still watching her.

Amanda tilted her head slightly and raised her eyebrows, lips curving into a slight smile. 

A prickling heat crept up Lynn’s neck as she took in the joke. Amanda watched her, leaning back so that her face was out of reach but her hips were pressed against Lynn’s, the weight holding her in place along with her wrists.

“Yes.”

The word bubbled up from between Lynn’s lips without conscious thought, feeling hot and sharp on her tongue. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she repeated, the word ghosting along every heavy breath. Amanda responded by pushing down, the weight sending a twinge of pain through Lynn’s wrists, just enough to make her gasp. 

Amanda seemed to consider Lynn briefly, pursing her lips. 

“Alright,” she breathed, smiling. There was one final push against Lynn’s hands, pressing her palms flat against the now-warm metal, and then Amanda let go. 

Lynn surged forward, using her newfound freedom to grab Amanda’s hips. She pressed her mouth to Amanda’s hungrily, not waiting for Amanda to come to her.  

Her tongue pressed against Amanda’s lip and Amanda parted them obligingly, letting Lynn lick into her mouth. She gasped when Lynn dragged her tongue along the roof of her mouth towards her teeth, so Lynn did it again. She tightened her grip on Amanda’s hips, pulling them towards her.

Amanda shifted her weight, and Lynn was vaguely aware of her feet knocking into Lynn’s as she did so. Lynn moved fluidly in response, the two of them in a perfectly balanced dance. Amanda found her footing, fitting comfortably into the empty spaces of Lynn’s posture.

A low, desperate sound slipped into the sliver of space between Lynn’s mouth and Amanda’s. Amanda leaned forward so her hips were flush against Lynn’s, sighing shakily in answer.

Lynn swallowed the sound in another kiss, licking along the inner curve of Amanda’s upper teeth. She drew her tongue back, shifting so she could pull Amanda’s lower lip between hers. One of her hands was still on Amanda’s waist, the other having found it’s way up to Amanda’s neck. She tugged Amanda closer and Amanda was all give, curving towards her. 

After a moment, Lynn scraped her teeth against Amanda’s lower lip and was rewarded with a sharp inhale. A bite, hard enough that it must have bordered just on the edge of pain, earned her a full gasp. Lynn wanted to hear it again, wanted to see what else would make Amanda sound that way. She licked Amanda’s lip to soothe the bite and Amanda shuddered. 

Lynn pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Amanda. She was flushed and breathing heavy, eyes mostly closed. Her own hands were gripping the edge of the table, forearms pressing tight against Lynn’s sides. Her lips were wet and swollen, that dark stain smudged and eaten away by their actions.

Lynn couldn’t remember when the last time was that anyone had looked so beautiful. 

She leaning forward, planting a kiss on the skin just to the side of Amanda’s mouth. 

Amanda froze, and Lynn could feel the muscles in her arms tighten where they were pressed against Lynn’s sides.

Lynn stopped, allowing Amanda a moment to breathe, long enough to protest if she wanted to. But there was no word of dissent, and when Amanda started to breathe again - low and labored, but breathing - Lynn pressed another kiss next to the first. Her breath was warm against Amanda’s cheek, her lips light as they traced their way out along the path of raised skin. 

When she reached the end, she worked her way backwards. She skipped over Amanda’s lips and Amanda turned away slightly, offering her other cheek. Lynn started at the end of the scar, placing a light kiss on the place where it dissolved into smooth skin. She moved along the line, growing less reserved as she neared Amanda’s mouth. 

Lynn could feel the scar under her lips, could trace it with her tongue. She moved slowly, lavishing every uneven edge with attention as she inched towards Amanda’s lips. 

Amanda was breathing heavily, arms taut at Lynn’s sides. 

Lynn finally worked her way all the way back to Amanda’s lips, planting one final kiss - light and soft, unlike some of the others - against the scar. Amanda let out a shuddering breath, her eyes closed. 

Suddenly, she was turning her face towards Lynn and slamming their lips together. Her hands came up from the table to Lynn’s hips, holding her in place. Lynn gasped a litle into the sudden kiss, allowing Amanda’s tongue to push into her mouth. 

Amanda moved her tongue smoothly, withdrawing only long enough to scrape her teeth along Lynn’s lower lip, drawing a half moan from her before she kissed her deeply again. Her grip on Lynn’s hips tightened, her fingers burning through Lynn’s clothes. 

They broke apart only long enough to gasp for breath before Lynn pushed back, pressing her tongue against Amanda’s teeth. She scratched her nails against Amanda’s scalp, making the other woman keen lightly. Biting Amanda’s upper lip lightly, Lynn threaded her fingers in Amanda’s hair. 

She pulled, and Amanda groaned beautifully. 

Lynn deepened the kiss again, swallowing up the sound. She waited another moment, tasting her way around Amanda’s mouth, before she tightened her grip and pulled again.

This time it was a moan, vibrating against Lynn’s mouth. Amanda pressed against her, grip tightening on Lynn’s hips. 

That was good. That was more than good, that was - 

Lynn bit Amanda’s lip and combined it with another hard tug on her hair. Amanda’s hips bucked against Lynn, her breath skipping. 

“Fuck,” she hissed, melting against Lynn. “Fuck.” 

Lynn realized, suddenly, that she had control of the situation. It was a little intoxicating, how Amanda was breathing desperately and pressing against her, no longer the one calling all the shots. Lynn pressed a few kisses to Amanda’s lips in quick, wet succession, all of which were received hungrily. She ran her hand through Amanda’s hair, nails trailing just along Amanda’s scalp. 

Amanda groaned, tipping her head back. Lynn moved away from her mouth, keeping her other hand in motion in Amanda’s hair. She could feel as much as hear the whining sigh when Lynn pulled her mouth away from Amanda's lips and pressed it to her jaw instead, leaving a wet kiss on its sharp edge. She moved to Amanda’s neck, sucking on the skin, licking at the tender flesh. 

Lynn pulled Amanda’s hair mid-mark, and Amanda gasped. She arched her back, pressing against Lynn, and suddenly there was a hand on Lynn’s jaw, pulling her face back up. 

Amanda wasted no time as soon as their mouths were level again. She grabbed Lynn’s lower lip between her teeth, biting lightly before slipping her tongue feverishly into Lynn’s mouth. Her hand was curled on the side of Lynn’s face, fingers grazing the edge of Lynn’s ear. The other hand was slipping under the hem of Lynn’s shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of her waist. 

The kiss was desperate, hungry enough to swallow them both whole. Amanda dug her nails lightly into Lynn’s hip, scratching against the skin, and Lynn tugged on Amanda’s hair in response. It was hard to say whether the moan belonged to one or both of them. 

Amanda moved her hand down Lynn’s neck and across the collar, which made Lynn shiver with the increasingly addictive combination of fear and arousal that came from the momentary reminder of her situation. Her palm settled flat along Lynn’s back, warm and wide between her shoulder blades.

Lynn felt Amanda shift then, her body pulling away. Lynn moved to chase that heat, shifting to follow, but couldn’t. Amanda’s grip on her the bare skin of her hip, having pushed the waist of her pants down on one side, tightened to hold her in place. 

She railed against the sudden distance - it wasn't more than a few inches of space, but it left Lynn feeling cold and hungry for the pressure. She was barely aware of Amanda’s quick shift in weight, the little nudge of Amanda’s foot against her own. 

Amanda pulled back another inch and Lynn let out a sort of whine, pulling on Amanda’s waist. She didn’t want it to be done, didn’t want to be cold again - she couldn’t even remember what, exactly, she didn’t want to go back to, only what she did want: Amanda’s lips on hers, their bodies warm and flush together, no more of this space—

Suddenly, her wish was granted. Amanda had needed the space to adjust her weight, shifting one of her legs between Lynn’s. She rolled her hips forward and up just right, closing the small distance between them. 

Lynn let out a choked sound at the sudden pressure, her grip in Amanda’s hair tightening reflexively. 

This time, when Amanda arched her back at the sudden tug, it pressed her hips forward against Lynn in a way that teased another low sound out of her. Her fingers tightened on Amanda’s waist, encouraging the steadily increasing rhythm of her hips. 

Lynn pressed a wet kiss to Amanda’s skin. She missed her mouth, landing on her cheek, but didn’t care. When she found Amanda’s lips she kissed her desperately, her little moans giving Amanda ample opportunity to slide her tongue along the inside of Lynn’s mouth. 

“Oh, god,” Lynn gasped as Amanda shifted again and hit just the right position to send a jolt through her body. The words were mostly swallowed up by Amanda’s mouth, which was still pressing hot, open kisses to Lynn’s lips. 

Clearly, she still heard Lynn’s choked speech because she adjusted minutely towards the same spot, pushing her leg closer to Lynn. 

Lynn’s fingers curled of their own accord, scratching along Amanda’s scalp and on her waist. Amanda’s contented sound vibrated against Lynn’s mouth, and Lynn felt Amanda’s grip on her back and hip tighten. 

She didn’t have to think about it when she allowed Amanda’s hand to guide her own hips into smoother motion. She matched Amanda’s own rocking, keeping the distance closed and the pressure high. 

Amanda let out a surprised gasp at the sudden response, fingers splaying across the skin of Lynn’s hip and the flat space of her back, stretching the material of her shirt.

If this had been any other moment, any other setting, Lynn would have pulled back - just for a moment, just long enough to pull her shirt over her head. She wanted to, moved to grab the hem of her top, then felt the weight of the collar. Instead, she reached for Amanda’s hands. 

The one on her hip was easy, already within reach. Lynn settled her hand on top of it and guided it down along her skin, down under the waistband of her pants and along the curve of her hip. 

The one on her back required a little more maneuvering, made all the more challenging by the fact that she was trying desperately to maintain the steady back and forth of her hips with Amanda’s. After a minute of scrabbling - Amanda bit Lynn’s lip just so, distracted her for a moment - Lynn found Amanda’s hand and dragged it unceremoniously down to the small of her back. 

Amanda seemed to understand, wasting no time pushing under Lynn’s shirt and laying her warm hand on the bare skin of her back. The table was warm against her skin where Amanda had rucked the shirt up and Lynn gasped at the unexpected sensation, settling her hands back on Amanda’s hips. 

When Amanda made a small noise in the back of her throat, something needy and soft, Lynn let her own hands work under Amanda’s shirt. Amanda sighed into the kiss when Lynn pushed the shirt up, exposing the pale skin of Amanda’s stomach and putting har hands against the bare flesh. 

One of Amanda’s hand was tracing gentle patterns on Lynn’s back, occasionally scratching along her spine and making Lynn gasp. The other was gripping the curve of her outer thigh, her thumb rubbing back and forth along the line of Lynn’s hipbone. 

Amanda rocked her hips forward, pushing her thigh up impossibly closer. Lynn moaned into her mouth, her hands grabbing Amanda’s bare torso tightly. She pulled for Amanda to come closer, but there was nowhere for her to go. 

At Lynn’s insistence, Amanda shifted again — “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” Lynn gasped, the pressure and rhythm exactly right — and inched the hand she had on Lynn’s thigh slowly down. 

Amanda slowed her motion slightly, making Lynn whine. 

“Is this—“ she said, her right hand twitching where it sat on Lynn’s outer thigh. 

“Mm-hmm,” Lynn said, more of a breath than a spoken answer, but it was enough. 

Amanda started moving again, shifting her hand back up where it had come from only to catch the elastic band at the top of Lynn’s underwear. She ran her thumb along it once, twice, making Lynn shiver and sigh against her mouth. She hooked it with her thumb and slid her hand under the band, nothing but skin under her warm palm then. 

Lynn sucked at Amanda’s lower lip, pressed her hips forward as Amanda’s hand moved under her clothes. She scraped her teeth along Amanda’s lower lip and bit down when Amanda’s hand started sliding down the line of her hip. 

Amanda stopped suddenly, her hand curling into a fist on Lynn’s back. She pulled back slightly, the pressure of her hips disappearing. 

Lynn slowed her own rocking, fitting her fingers along the ridges of Amanda’s exposed ribs where her shirt had ridden up. 

“I…” Amanda trailed off, breathing heavy. She bit her spit-shining lip, the same place Lynn had bitten moments earlier. Her thumb swiped absentmindedly over the bump of Lynn’s hipbone under her clothes and Lynn exhaled sharply in response. 

Amanda looked over her shoulder, swallowing hard. 

Lynn followed her gaze, towards the corner of the room opposite the makeshift hospital. There was a sort of curtain, the kind of divider that might be in a hospital, separating a section of the room. She didn’t have to ask to understand that it was the closest thing to a bedroom Amanda had in the space. 

“Yes,” Lynn said, bringing one of her hands to Amanda’s face. She turned the other woman’s head towards her and stared into her eyes, wide and dark. With a tiny shift of her weight, Lynn pressed her hips up to meet Amanda’s again. 

Amanda’s eyes fluttered shut and she inhaled sharply, her hands tightening wonderfully on Lynn.  

“Okay,” she sighed, her breath a warm ghost on Lynn’s skin. 

She began to move, drawing her hands up and back towards her body - Lynn missed the heat immediately, pressing herself away from the table to follow it. 

They’d made it all of ten steps towards the promise of a bed, half stumbling and unable to totally disentangle from one another, before the moment was broken. 

Amanda noticed it first, freezing as Lynn pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear, her grip tightening on Lynn’s hand. 

“Lynn,” she gasped, low, and Lynn smiled against her skin. 

“Mmm.” 

“Fucking - no. Lynn,” Amanda repeated, spinning around and grabbing Lynn’s hands, pinning them to her sides. She was staring at Lynn with a sudden urgent fear, and whatever fondness had been in her touch moments before was melting away.  

Lynn heard it then, the persistent warning beep coming from the other side of the warehouse. 

“Fuck,” Lynn said, and it lacked any of the feeling of the last handful times the word had been mumbled by her. 

There was a long moment then with Amanda’s hands still holding Lynn, the two of them caught in the heady aftermath of something not quite realized. Whatever they’d been doing was over; their impulsive freedom had reached its premature end. 

A chill washed over Lynn and her stomach dropped into the ground. She knew, somehow, that they would not finish what they’d started. The moment was over, and even if they had wanted to, they would never get the chance. Neither of them. 

The thought struck Lynn with a grim certainty from sources unknown, and she was filled with a terrible sadness as she looked at Amanda’s still-flushed face. 

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Amanda’s cheek. It was gentle, not at all the feverish, hungry touch that they’d been exchanging what already felt like hours ago in spite of the ghost of Amanda’s hands still on Lynn’s waist, her lips still tingling. 

Amanda’s hands loosened at the press of Lynn’s lips to her skin, her eyes closing. Lynn pulled her arms free and turned, heading away from Amanda and towards the source of the beeping. 

Her heart was pounding a pitiful mourning march in her chest, but it was picking up speed as reality suddenly crashed back on her. Each beep was one closer to her own demise, if she couldn’t stop it - the collar suddenly felt unimaginably heavy, the air suffocatingly cold. 

Lynn hurried to the plastic separating John from the rest of the warehouse, the beeping growing louder with each step. She reached out to open the hanging strips and shuddered at the cool, hard feel of them on her still-warm skin. They parted easily under her touch and exposed her to the bright artificial glow, the smell of antiseptic and slow death. 

She stepped halfway through, then paused. Without knowing why, still holding the plastic strips out of her way, she turned back; Amanda was still where Lynn had left her, standing with her chin dropped almost to her chest. Her hands were down at her sides, tightening into fists and then loosening in nervous loops. There was a shake to her shoulders, enough that Lynn could see it even from this distance. 

Then, as if she could feel the weight of Lynn’s gaze, Amanda looked up. Her eyes were desolate, empty of either hungry warmth or angry cold. She looked gaunt, pale, and suddenly very scared under the fluorescents of the warehouse. Dark shadows fell over her eyes, which bore into Lynn’s own. 

Something shifted, invisible and inevitable. Lynn felt it, and she could see it wash over Amanda, too; her back straightened suddenly, her lips parting in a frown. Whatever was coming, it was on it’s way - their little detour was over. 

Lynn held Amanda’s gaze for another moment, neither wanting to turn and step towards whatever was coming for them. But the beeping of John’s monitor was persistent, and the weight of the collar was crushing. She blinked once, took a deep breath, and turned away from Amanda. 

She could still feel Amanda’s eyes on her when she stepped into the makeshift hospital room, letting her hand drop. The plastic swished closed behind her like the falling blade of a guillotine, and they were separated.