After AnimeCon 2: Spoonful of Sugar

    Trailing after the red compact car through the nighttime suburbs at a sedate pace, Brian and the girls grew quiet. Engaging back and forth in conversation had helped keep their energy up and stay more awake, but once the banter stopped Emily started to crash, laying most of the way down across the back bench and resting her cheek on one arm. Kelly had retrieved Emily’s phone and was half-heartedly poking through it—Brian thought that she had probably wanted to call Stephanie again, but now balked at doing so when really realizing just how late it was.

    Finally Monique’s car stopped just beneath one of the neighborhood’s streetlights, and Brian pulled in a ways across the street as they watched the leggy Christine hop out and hurry across the driveway of the nearest house.

    “She need help hauling Mono inside?” Kelly murmured, running fingers through her hair.

    “Nah,” Brian said. “SUV is there, this time. Tom’s SUV. Monique’s fiance, he’s—well, he’s alright. We never had any beef or anything.”

    “Okay,” Kelly said, twisting in her seat to check on Emily.

    Then—they waited.

    And waited.

    The car idled and several long minutes passed before Christine came back into sight with Tom in tow, the guy clad in an undershirt and boxers and wearing just slippers. They watched as Tom tried to rouse Monique, which took several more minutes, while in the light of the streetlight Christine stood with arms crossed on the curb in an honestly impeccable Chloe impersonation. They were far enough away that they couldn’t make out much more besides Tom trying and failing to cajole Monique into at least sitting up and listening to him, and Brian realized his eyes were starting to ache in that hey you should have been asleep a few hours ago sort of way. 

    “She should just bail,” Kelly growled. “Fuck’s she just standing there for? Let him deal with it. This is taking forever.”

    After what felt like another eternity, Tom finally got an irate looking Monique to put her seat back up and exit the vehicle, and then Christine took the girl’s other hand and they led her inside the house. To Kelly’s mounting impatience however, Christine didn’t come right back out of the house—instead they sat and waited in frustration as more and more minutes ticked by on the dashboard clock of Brian’s car.

    “Brian… what the fuck?” Kelly whispered out in a grumble. “I mean it doesn’t start ‘til eleven, but I do have a Dollarydoos shift tomorrow.”

    “Give her a bit,” Brian said, fighting off a yawn.

    Trying to relax his shoulders and get more comfortable, Brian undid the velcro of the wrist brace he’d worn tonight to hide his lack of injury there and ran a hand up and down that arm, rediscovering the bandage patch over the bite mark. He needed to remember to take a peek beneath that tonight and see how it was healing, and he needed to remind himself to wash off the fake bruising before he went facefirst into his pillow and covers tonight. Running his other palm across the opposite arm revealed some sort of ink-like smear, there—perhaps some sort of soot stain he’d picked up from the couch back at the bonfire.

    “Finally,” Kelly hissed.

    Christine had reemerged back into view, this time alone and struggling with a large plastic tote which had several mesh laundry bags piled atop of it. At the sight Brian hit the button to pop open his trunk, and as the girl scurried across the street to meet them he opened his door and stepped out to help her.

    “Sorry. Sorry,” Christine said. “I didn’t mean to take so long. You didn’t have to wait.”

    “No worries,” Brian assured her. “Your stuff?”

    “Yeah,” Christine gave him an awkward wince. “It uh. It wasn’t all packed, um. Even just from when we were getting ready for tonight. Amy and them, my ‘Chloe friends,’ they stole a bunch of my things. I was able to grab some of it back from Monique’s closet there, just now.”

    “Were you able to get everything?” Kelly asked, peering out at them.

    “I—I grabbed enough,” Christine said. “Sorry.”

    Brian helped her fit the large tote into the trunk, and then squash the bulging laundry sacks in beside them. For Christine to fit in the back now Brian had to gently coax Emily awake and have her sit up, and then he had to take the empty carry cooler jammed down in front of the seats there and put it up on the girl’s lap so that there was room. Sleepy Emily was adorably compliant, moving and staying put wherever he positioned her with only cute grunts—she never opened her eyes, and probably never woke the whole way back up.

    The ride the rest of the way across town and back to the apartment was silent and tense, with Christine brooding and Kelly not saying a word.

* * *

    With a muttered apology, Kelly steered Emily into the bathroom where they could wash their faces and brush their teeth before bed, and Brian stood alone with Christine in the living room.

He was tired and she looked exhausted, but they both seemed to know that they needed to clear the air between them, and when he gestured towards the sofa, Christine obliged with a wary look and took a seat. Brian watched in quiet fascination as she pulled off the branded beanie and the short brunette wig beneath, and with awkward movements Christine let down her hair and tried to comb the tangled mess into some semblance of order—she seemed to be distinctly uncomfortable not appearing presentable in front of him, and maybe that dynamic was what really caught his attention.

    “Sorry again,” Christine said. “For taking so long. For—for everything.”

    “Don’t worry about it,” Brian assured her as he took a seat next to her. “You want to talk?”

    “We don’t have to,” Christine shrugged. “I—”

    The bathroom door opened, and a naked Kelly guided Emily who was wearing just her t-shirt along the back of the couch, where she prompted the girl to give Brian a kiss goodnight.

    “Night, Brian,” Emily said in a sleepy mumble. “Night, uh—you. Christine.”

    “Goodnight, you guys,” Kelly said, giving the top of Brian’s head a kiss from above. “Sorry, we’re hittin’ the sheets. Save some horny for us tomorrow, yeah?”

    “Yeah,” Brian chuckled. “Night, guys.”

    “Sleepy in the streets, sleepy in the sheets~!” Emily murmured with a yawn. “Peace out, bitches. Love you guys. Don’t forget to like and subscri—”

    “You’re retarded,” Kelly said, shoving her forward and giving a healthy smack across Emily’s bare bottom. “C’mon.”

    “You shouldn’t say ‘retarded,’” Emily grumbled. “You actually say that a lot?”

    “Whatever,” Kelly said, her brandy-brown eyes flicking from Brian to Christine and back. “Brian? We leave plenty of room on the bed for one more. If it’s two? Well, then you’ll both have to be real fuckin’ cozy.”

    “Thanks,” Brian said.

    “Night,” Kelly left them with a parting wave.

    Then with a polite close of the bedroom door, Brian and Christine were given privacy. It felt strange and surreal sitting here across his familiar apartment sofa from her, and that ever-present acute awareness of her body posture came back into play, as if Brian was trying to get a read on Chloe’s mood like he had so many times in the past few years. Their relationship had changed in drastic, impossibly exaggerated ways, but in quiet moments like this he could almost forget that and imagine this was just another difficult night where he was trying to patch things up with Chloe.

    “I can just sleep on the couch,” Christine offered, staring down at the coffee table but unable to bear the silence. “You don’t have to—to wait up on me, or anything. You can be with them. I’ll be fine.”

    “Really did want to talk,” Brian shook his head. “Christine—you did really good tonight. Seriously.”

    “I didn’t,” Christine refuted. “I just did what I was supposed to. It wasn’t anything special.”

    “Hey,” Brian reached out and stopped her. “Look at me.”

    With a bit of reluctance, Christine wet her lips for a moment before finally glancing up at him, as though the act of meeting his eyes was something that took a moment to bolster her courage for. Her irises were that gorgeous unnatural red still, and Brian had to wonder if this was a normal part of her magic thing, or if it was simply a leftover byproduct of her brief stint as an almost-vampire. None of the other girls had their eye colors change, and when Brian leaned in closer to appreciate them, it was hard not to feel spellbound by how beautiful they were.

    Moving into her personal space and reaching a hand up made Christine react, and that was interesting to see. There was a flash of raw panic which she attempted to stifle beneath her placid mask of composure, her hands began to rise as if in search of something to fidget with but then lowered. Finally, Christine forced her body completely still—Brian wasn’t even sure she was daring to allow herself to breathe. Although seeing her react this way naturally made him want to back off and give her some room, instead he remained in place and brought his palm up to cup her cheek.

    Those vivid red eyes snapped to his hand for an instant before immediately returning to hold his gaze—as if she was afraid to get caught looking—and her entire body tensed, shoulders rising and her trembling face all but flinching away from his touch.

    “Christine,” Brian asked. “What’s wrong?”

    “I—” Christine blurted out. “Nothing’s wrong.”

    “You’re acting like you’re afraid of me,” Brian said.

    “I’m not afraid of you,” Christine clarified. “I’m afraid of—of what’s happening. Whatever’s happening. All of this. I, I don’t deserve whatever you’re about to do, so you shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t bother, and well. Some part of me just thinks you’re doing it because Kelly asked you to. Because, she made a bet with me that you would. She thinks—I don’t know what she thinks. I don’t know anything. I don’t understand why, or know why she even would in the first place. It doesn’t make—”

    “Hey,” Brian interrupted. “What do you imagine I’m about to do?”

    “I—I don’t know,” Christine admitted. “But, you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve anything. I was just doing what I was supposed to. I don’t deserve any kind of reward, or, or punishment, really, either, and—I don’t deserve any kind of different treatment either way. What I did was just what I needed to do anyway. Nothing special.”

    “Kelly did have some, uh, suggestions,” Brian admitted. “But—”

    “I thought so,” Christine shrugged. “Yeah. Thought as much as soon as she tried to make it a bet. It—”

    “But, she only brought them up after I told her I wanted to do something nice for you tonight, give you special attention,” Brian finished. “As soon as I said the words, she just lit up. Was thrilled, had all kinds of extra, well, input.”

    “O-oh,” Christine swallowed. “Okay. That’s fair. She, uh—I still think she cheated, a little. I guess I figured she would. We’ll say she only halfway won the bet? It, you know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’m not sure it would have counted in the first place.”

    “Her ideas were all violent and sexual,” Brian said. “I don’t know that that’s what you want.”

    “I, uh, oh,” Christine murmured. “Oh.”

    She didn’t seem to be able to confirm or deny that out loud.

    “Christine, what do you want?” Brian asked, tracing his fingers down along her chin and then her neck.

    “I—I don’t know?” Christine said, trying not to appear distracted by his touch. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I don’t deserve anything.”

    “Do you want nothing?” Brian challenged. “Do you want me to ignore you, or pretend you don’t exist? I do know that’s a thing, neglect or abandonment play or that sort of stuff. Because, it does kind of seem like this here with me is really bothering you.”

    “I—” Christine opened her mouth but seemed lost as to how to answer that, as well.

    “Tell me that’s what you want, and I’ll leave you alone,” Brian promised.

    “It’s—” Christine began.

    “But, please don’t lie to me,” Brian said. “About what you want, or your desires. Ever. If you lie to me about that, if you can’t even trust me with those—then, this between us isn’t going to work. And we’ll have to figure out something else.”

    “I—” Christine seemed altogether terrified for a moment. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

    “Good,” Brian said. “I appreciate that. Really, a lot.”

    “But, I don’t think I can, um, tell you what I want, either,” Christine blurted out. “I just, please, I can’t. I really can’t. Psychologically? Not after everything I’ve done. Not after what I’ve done to you. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you ever, ever being nice to me, or, or doing things for me, or being in your consideration like that—I just. Don’t.”

    “Then, it sounds like we’re at a bit of an impasse, there,” Brian said with a slow sigh. “What was the bet, anyways? Between you and Kelly.”

    “She… thought you would come to me on your own to reward or punish me,” Christine reported. “For tonight. That uh, that I. Well, it’s not that I didn’t believe her, I just. I don’t see why you would, because you shouldn’t. I didn’t do anything deserving of—of any kind of special treatment or attention. She said that if she won the bet, then… I would have to smile around you for a whole day.”

    “Wow,” Brian let out a snort. “Definitely cruel and unusual punishment. We’re not making you do that.”

    “It’s not, really,” Christine said. “It’s not any kind of big deal.”

    “No, it is,” Brian shook his head. “I remember that was something that really got under your skin as a feminist, and that in particular was something I strongly empathized with. Always did.”

    “What?” Christine stared at him. “Smiling?”

    “Well, girls being told by guys to smile,” Brian elaborated. “Or expected to. The whole ‘you’d be pretty if you smiled, babe,’ thing. Not sure you would have been willing to hear it from me back then, but I do completely understand how awful that is.

“People pressuring you to put on a cheery face. When I’d just started at Marino’s, way back when? The shift manager was David Jr, the store owner’s son. Total asshole, had a huge stick up his butt about everything, was completely invested in all of the by-the-books corporate compliance mandatory smile stuff, and would write you up for it if you weren’t smiling wide enough for each and every guest. The kinda guy who kept dressing down the drivers for not having enough pep, or ‘customer service enthusiasm’ or whatever, when they were taking orders on the phone.”

    “Okay,” Christine’s brow furrowed.

    “What I mean is—I don’t want you to ever have to pretend to be happy around me,” Brian said. “To have to wear a mask. I know you’re not happy, and I know you’re not real comfortable showing all of that, either. We can work on that together. Or, we can work on that if you want to let me help. This whole deal going on between us—it’s complicated and kind of crazy. Do you understand that I do want us to be able to work through all of that, and someday get to where you can genuinely be happy?”

    “Yes?” Christine tried. “Maybe. No, not really. I don’t know. I, I really don’t see why you would. After everything I’ve done. Doesn’t really make sense. You shouldn’t.”

    “It doesn’t make sense, because you were a psychopath?” Brian asked. “A total heinous and vindictive bitch who did everything she possibly could to fuck me over?”

    “...Yes,” Christine’s lips tightened.

    “I think that normally, it would be really hard to,” Brian shrugged. “If I’m being honest. I would normally subconsciously still blame you, always blame you, because even if you did start to turn over a new leaf and change for the better—none of that would take away what you’ve done to me. The ways you’ve hurt me.”

     Christine physically flinched at the words, and her eyes began to water.

    “But. That’s the thing,” Brian continued. “This what we have right now, it isn’t normal. At all. It’s crazy magic bullshit where we uh, well basically we separated all of the ‘Chloe,’ and excised it out of you? Or, something like that. That’s how I pictured it, or imagined it I guess, when I decided to kiss you down in that grave. I was thinking that somewhere deep down inside of Chloe, there was someone I loved in there—someone worthy of being loved, someone who was capable of love. And, I wanted to free that part of you, if it existed. So—does it?”

     “I—” Christine worried her lip for a long moment as she struggled to answer. “I want to? But, I have no right to. I really don’t.”

    “I chose to kiss you there in that moment,” Brian told her. “That was my decision. It, well. Goddamn, it wasn’t an easy one, either. Since I’ve been wrestling with uh, with the fact that this all might be magic mind control, or stuff like that. But, I did choose to kiss you. That was my choice.”

    She stared up at him with grief in her expression.

    “You told me back then that you also kissed me,” Brian continued when it didn’t look like she could find the words she was trying to articulate. “You kissed me back in the alleyway. Since that’s apparently how you accidentally got on the blood magic path. You told me that for however brief an instant, and for whatever circumstances, you were Christine right there in that moment, and you, Christine, chose to kiss me. Right?”

    “I… did kiss you,” Christine admitted.

    “Because you wanted to?” Brian asked. “Because you needed to? Was it that you suddenly just felt sorry for me? Responsible for how all of that came about? Did you still have feelings for me—I mean, feelings aside from all of the insane Chloe sort of… blind animosity? What made you choose to kiss me at that moment? Do you want me?”

    “I—” Christine didn’t know how to answer that, either, and emotion was starting to disrupt the facade of composure she wore.

    “I know you’re not happy,” Brian said. “That you feel all the guilt and shame and regret from everything Chloe did, because you used to be her. Emily, Kelly and everyone, we all did this to you, because we didn’t know what else we could do. If I knew how to, to uh—kiss away all of the guilt you feel with mind control, I think I would. Which is actually super hypocritical of me, probably. Give you a clean slate. We made you so that you’re not Chloe anymore, so it isn’t fair for you to keep beating yourself up over what Chloe did.”

    “I just can’t help but feel that way,” Christine insisted. “And. I feel that if you took away the uh, the part of me that hates myself for what I’ve done, then I would just. Just slide back into being Chloe, again. Slide back down the slippery slope into being her. Because that’s easier, that’s easiest. It was always so easy for her. Just, seeing things the way she does. Having perception and judgement skew completely in my own favor, all of the time. About everything.”

    “Okay,” Brian said. “Thank you. That… I guess that helps me understand your perspective more, so thank you.”

    “You don’t have to thank me for anything,” Christine bit out. “Ever. Ever.”

    “Okay,” Brian said again, this time with a sigh. “You know how I feel about all of this. I know how you feel about all of this. We have an understanding, sort of? Now, what we need to do is decide what’s next, decide on a way forward for us. With our relationship. It can’t just be me unilaterally telling you what to do, or deciding things for you, because I am not a Master, and you are not a mind-controlled thrall, or slave, or anything like that—both of us are aware how much that whole paradigm puts me off. Yes?”

    “Yes,” Christine nodded. “You’re really not like them at all.”

    “At the same time, I feel like this isn’t something I can just entirely fob off on you,” Brian said. “Your problem, I don’t care—you fuckin’ figure it out. And have everything be on you. Because, this is a relationship, it involves both of us, and it’s something we need to decide together. To some extent, you can’t be trusted to decide things entirely for yourself, because right now I feel like you’re going to default to feeling—I don’t know—unworthy, or undeserving, and just refuse to uh. Refuse to participate, I guess, in developing this forwards with us. This as in, an active, healthy relationship, where we love and trust one another.”

    “Okay,” Christine said.

    “Okay, as in, you agree?” Brian asked. “Or, okay, like—you’re listening, continue, go on?”

    “I… think I agree?” Christine clarified. “Just. I don’t know what to do. I would much rather you decide everything for me, because I feel like that’s the way it needs to be. Considering everything that’s happened. But, then also you don’t want to do that, so. So, I just don’t know what to do.”

    “Alright,” Brian said. “I mean, I didn’t say that I won’t uh, take the lead if that’s how you want things to work, just that I don’t want it to be unilateral control. We can adhere to the more traditional gender roles, and I can be the dominant partner and lead when it comes to making decisions, and you can be the submissive one and follow, if that’s what you want? That’s pretty much the opposite of what we were trying to do when you were Chloe, since all of that was real problematic to her.”

    “Yes, then let’s do that,” Christine agreed immediately. “That’s good, then. I think we should just do that. You can be dominant, and I can be submissive. I think that works?”

    “Okay, sure,” Brian nodded. “We can do that. But, it’s going to require a lot from you. Probably more than you ever thought, and it’s not going to be easy.”

    “I’ll do anything you want me to,” Christine said. “Just—tell me what you want me to do.”

    “You’re sure?” Brian asked. “Really sure?”

    “I’m sure,” Christine insisted.

    “Then… for starters, Christine—I want you to be proud of yourself,” Brian instructed. “Really proud of yourself. Because, you did great tonight, and I know it must have been difficult pretending to be Chloe for everyone, putting on that whole miserable act. Convincing Monique, being clever and capable and helping subtly guide everyone’s perception of you, so that it doesn’t feel like just this sudden and insane one hundred eighty degrees turn from the Chloe they know. I know this could not have been fun for you, and I didn’t like that it felt like we were, well, rubbing your nose in the very recent identity trauma we’ve put you through. I’m really impressed and proud of you tonight for managing to get through everything so well, and I want to make sure to show you a lot of appreciation, and to reward you somehow. Encourage you.”

    “I—” Christine put on a sour expression. “This whole conversation feels like a trap, now. Because if I argue that no, I don’t ever deserve any appreciation for just doing what I was supposed to do, then you’ll say I’m not even trying to follow your lead.”

    “Sure, it is a trap,” Brian gave her a small shrug. “One for Chloe, rather than Christine. Hopefully? I meant to just illustrate how actually submitting to my lead could sometimes mean you need to trust me to know what’s best for you, even if right now you don’t agree with that. The Chloe I knew would be unable to submit to me or anyone else, ever. Just in basic principle. It’s not submitting to my lead if you only do it whenever it aligns with what you want—and I expect you were initially just thinking the dominant and submissive partner thing would be me bossing you around, or as a sexual thing—using you for my own gratification and such—and I’m sure that appealed to you, because like Kelly’s said, right now maybe you crave abuse.”

    “Can you just do that?” Christine pleaded. “You can just do that. Abuse me. I do deserve that, at least.”

    “I can spank you, if you like that?” Brian said. “I can be rough with you in uh, strictly in the bedroom, or we can play at doing things you feel are degrading if you’re into that, but I’m not going to actually abuse you, Christine. Ever.”

    “You can hit me?” Christine said. “Because, I’ve hit you before. Smacked you, hit you. Plenty of times. So, that’s fair.”

    “I’m not going to hit you,” Brian shook his head. “No.”

    “You’ve done it before, so,” Christine insisted. “Back in the grave, you—”

    “That was self defense,” Brian’s tone went flat. “Because you bit me, because you were actually attacking me. I didn’t want to have to do it. But, I did. I’ll never feel good about it—in fact, I’ll always feel terrible about it.”

    “I just—” Christine’s chest rose and then slowly fell in a silent sigh of frustration. “You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t feel bad about it at all. I had it coming. You were right to hit me, and,  and you should hit me more. I would feel a lot better if you did, in fact. If you could just take all of the rage I put on you, and take it back out on me. You should.”

    “Christine, stop,” Brian commanded. “Listen to me. This is just like, the ghost of guilt, there, it’s Chloe making you think that—”

    “No, no, because—because Chloe never felt guilt,” Christine argued. “She never felt guilty, no matter what she did. This, this that I’m feeling? The way this is? This is all completely me. Completely Christine. It’s not ‘Chloe.’ You can’t just—”

    “No, she’s haunting you, because you’re feeling the guilt for her actions,” Brian reasoned. “If—”

    “But, she’s me,” Christine let out a manic laugh. “You can’t just keep using that as an excuse for me. Christine and Chloe. She’s not like this whole other different person, no matter how you all play at separating the names. Those were my actions. I’m Chloe, and she was Christine! We’re not split personalities just because you give me a conscience, Brian. I did all of those horrible things to you. To everyone. I was still the one that did all of that. Because I was an unhinged total fucking psychopath. I can’t be let off the hook just because, because you say oh, now I’ve changed into Christine and turned over a new leaf. It doesn’t work that way. It can’t. It can’t. It just… can’t. That’s too fucking convenient.”

    “Then, what do you think we should do?” Brian asked.

    “Hit me, beat me,” Christine suggested with a dark laugh. “Abuse and torment me. Belittle me, spend every hour of the day just—crushing and grinding me down, until I feel completely worthless. That will help. That’s what I did to you. Use me. Sexually use me, I mean—you know that’s what I used to do to you. Just, just grinding myself on your face to get myself off, all while completely ignoring whatever you—”

    “Christine, stop,” Brian’s voice was loud enough to make her flinch. “That’s enough.”

    “I—” Christine began.

    “Shut the fuck up,” Brian demanded. “Stand up. Now. Stand up, and step right over here in front of me.”

    With stiff, jerky motions she complied, rising up out of her seat with her shoulders raised and arms crossed over herself as if poised to scratch and claw and rake fingers down from her shoulders to her chest in eager self harm. Her expression had already crumpled up into an aborted sob, and she was squeezing her eyes shut to prevent tears from beginning to fall.

    “Come here, right here,” Brian patted his thigh. “Sit up on my lap.”

    “Brian, can you just hit me, please?” Christine pleaded with a sniffle. “Can you just—”

    Instead, Brian rose up far enough to grab her by her wrists, and then directed her down on top of him until she was sitting upright across his lap, her one side nestled up against his chest. He ensured one of his arms was wrapped snug around her, and then used the other to carefully hide her face in against his neck. Their position was now an incredibly intimate one, and although she didn’t dare to physically protest, her discomfort was obvious from her rigid, resisting posture and the tears he felt against his neck.

    “C-can you just—”

    “Christine,” Brian intoned. “Ssh. Ssshhh.”

    He sat for a long moment with the flustered, angry, and emotional ex-girlfriend awkwardly hunched up in his lap, glancing across her long, slender legs which now extended out the whole way over his armrest. It was difficult to gather his thoughts right now, because he was realizing that her outburst had also gotten him mentally worked up in a bad way. Hearing her start to go off in that same way that Chloe used to do had him likewise begin to bristle and close himself off from her on reflex, and Brian needed to make sure to put a stop to all of that right away.

    “Okay, so this is on me,” Brian finally said. “I knew this would be a process. It’s good that we caught it this time when we did—when you were just really starting to spiral. You… need your medicine.”

    “What?”

    When Brian allowed her to pull back far enough for their eyes to meet, Christine’s face was screwed up in consternation as she blinked up at him through her tears, and it resembled the cold and distant Chloe quite a bit more than he liked. She didn’t resist as Brian cradled her cheek with one hand and then guided her up so that they could kiss, but her expression warped into a stunned mess of confusion and disbelief.

    Then, their lips met, with hers parting before his as a cold, glassy current of shining color connected them.

    Christine was… not okay. His immediate supernatural sense of her was that of seeing a spirit trapped, of witnessing a lost and lonesome soul lashing out at her silvery confines, and finding no way out in any direction. The mirror that encased her ghost wasn’t broken or breaking or shattered like before, and instead it felt like it had been wholly intact but shrinking, its edges tightening in closer all around her in a horrifying suffocating way.

    Brian had no idea how to even help her within the dreamscape, but in those same first moments and as if reflecting the arrival of his connection, a landscape began to appear within the empty mirror Christine was in. The size and breadth of the mirror surface itself did not grow—it was still a diminutive little prison window viewing into Christine—but now there was a sense of distance and scale inside of it. Because of the simple appearance of the ground in there, that oppressive silvery void now had an expansive sense of ‘context’ that spread so deep within that there was now a horizon line reflecting in the distance.

    The sheer physical relief she experienced at that was immediately apparent, because Christine sagged within his embrace. The angry lines that had her knit her brows close together relaxed, and she opened her mouth to drink in a deeper kiss—wet, needy, and pleading for more.

    Just like a change in position allows one to peer through the glare upon glass, Christine’s obstinate refusal to accept forgiveness or absolution vanished from view to reveal what was within—a rather manic flavor of longing deep inside. Brian was able to savor and suss out the nuance of her every emotion through the peculiar synesthesia of this open-mouthed kiss they shared in, but he realized exploring the depth of each feeling and considering all of the ramifications was going to take time.

    Horror and despair, sour, stifling regret and sense of animal longing that seemed to magnify more and more the longer Christine caught herself up in reflecting upon all of Chloe’s misdeeds. Her side of the mirror also had an insatiable… hollow quality to it, perhaps simply because things over there weren’t real in the way that the things they mirrored were. Stephanie’s fire had needed the presence of others to ‘feed’ on for fuel and growth, but Christine’s magical representation seemed even more unique, because hers was altogether incomplete without something of real substance to reflect.

    When Brian connected with her through the charm magic, the sterile silver emptiness within Christine came to life with imagery and meaning again—or rather, it introduced his imagery and meaning, allowed her to reflect on that and give that her emotional consideration. The sheer stark difference made her begin to kiss him with wild, fervid abandon. All of the sudden she was groaning with passionate desire and her hands were grabbing and clutching at him. It was strange witnessing such a reversal in apparent attitude, but after having peered across the pane to her side to witness both that sense of desperation and the miserable, hopeless agony—Brian thought her issues tonight made much more sense to him. 

    Fuck, Christine…

    After a long, lingering full minute of enjoying the sensation of her lips and the shy at first but increasingly provocative appearances of her tongue, Brian finally managed to disengage and pull back. For a brief few seconds before Christine broke out of the lurid daze, her mouth continued to work as she rose up in blind search of him. But, then she came to her senses and shame and despair overtook her expression, forcing her to bring both hands up to hide her face.

    “So, uh,” Brian wasn’t sure how to even start addressing this. “You definitely felt… all of that going on. Right?”

    “I’m sorry,” Christine apologized in a small, almost inaudible voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

    “Stop, stop—I don’t think this was your fault,” Brian assured her, parting her hands so that he could plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s just. I don’t know. I don’t know what this means—or how much I should be reading into it, I guess. Your mirror was completely empty. Running on empty, somehow? Until I started kissing you, until I… reconnected us, again. Then, when I showed up it filled with land inside, earth, gave you some ground to stand on, or an area, some room to breathe or…?”

    “Yes,” Christine nodded her head against him with little jerky movements. “I—yeah. A-a foundation? Yes. Yes.”

    “So—” Brian paused. “If you need things to reflect, dreamscape-wise, so that you’re not just empty, then that might mean you’re… codependent? Not like dependent personality disorder, I guess, but something a little similar? I don’t know. You maybe need to be associating with the rest of us magically, and on a much more regular basis?”

    “I’m sorry,” Christine murmured again. “I’m—”

    “Or, I could be wrong?” Brian tried to sound optimistic. “It, uh. Maybe it was just like, because you were having an episode, because you were definitely spiraling, maybe it was that—that emptied out your mirror or had your uh, your ego crushing in on itself, until it was like the actual mirror size was contracting?”

    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

    “Don’t be sorry, stop, just,” Brian hesitated. “Well. Talk to me. Can you tell me what that felt like for you? This was all, uh, concerning. I mean, it’s already like some trope or cliche where I can just kiss everything better, and yeah it’s great if that works and I’m thrilled, but what if I hadn’t been here? What if this started happening, and I wasn’t around in time? What would have happened? I, uh—”

    “Please don’t leave me,” Christine sobbed out in a tiny voice. “Please—please—I’m sorry—”

    “Hey, hey, I’m right here,” Brian assured her, pressing another kiss onto her forehead. “I have you. I’m not letting go. Just—well. Talk to me, Christine. Please.”

    “I shouldn’t have asked you to hurt me, that wasn’t fair of me!” Christine blurted out, pausing to sniffle. “I, uh, I just. I get so angry at myself, for, for everything. I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have ever put that on you to hurt me. That was dumb and stupid of me and, and, and thoughtless. I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry. I just really wanted you to hurt me, so that things would seem fair. Start to seem fair. Nothing seems fair. But, that isn’t fair to you actually. It isn’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

    “Part of me wonders if this uh, this effect on your mirror or whatever might be like, lingering pathways of the vampirism?” Brian said. “The blood magic pathway still being partially ingrained into your mirror. Or, etched in, somehow, just beneath the surface?”

    “I—I don’t know,” Christine stammered. “I’m sorry. It um. It was a little bit like the, uh, the overwhelming thirst. But, not the same exactly. It wasn’t… blood that I needed. It was just. Everything. All of you? Without you, I’m nothing, and with you I’m… I have everything. Even though I don’t deserve it. Can never deserve it. I can’t explain it, really. It might be, uh, I think maybe that’s just the nature of mirrors to begin with?”

    “I do think you’re on the charm path, now, mostly,” Brian said. “Was the need mostly, ah, sexual? In nature? That kind of desire?”

    “S-some of it was?” Christine's face began to flush red. “But, it was more than that. It… it wasn’t just sex desire. Sexual desire. It was more. It uh, it started to feel like a more… complete kind of… total obsession? A fixation? Hyperfixation? Like nothing at all mattered anymore, and I wanted to just give up on everything, but then you were there in like a religious sense and then that was all I could think about, in a really overwhelming way? I-in a good way, I mean? Not in a bad way. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

    “That sounds… mildly terrifying?” Brian admitted with a bitter smile. “I mean—”

    “It wasn’t, at all,” Christine promised. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t bad. Except in uh, in that I want more of it or need more of it, or, or as much as you can possibly give me. I uh, I want to say that the feeling was being in love, but it was—it was—it was so much more than I ever thought that could be. It wasn’t a bad thing. Please.”

    “Okay,” Brian said. “I’m gonna… provisionally accept that, for now. I guess more importantly—are you okay? Do you feel better? Did stopping you there when you were starting to freak out and giving you a uh, ‘treatment’ help? How do you feel?”

    “I feel more grounded?” Christine tried to explain. “A lot better. Thank you. I’m sorry I was losing it, there. I’m really sorry. I feel much better, so—thank you. Thank you so much.”

    “And so, on that note,” Brian cleared his throat. “Are you up for anything? Reward, or punishment or however you want to think of it.

“I don’t want to uh, to just like dole out the absolute bare minimum of ‘medicine’ you need, when we can do more. Or only wait until things get bad for you, before doing something about it. Christine, you really did do great tonight, it sucked putting you through that with Monique there, and thinking about how it might be making you suffer, and uh. I want to do something special for you.”

    “Can I…” Christine asked in a timid voice, hesitating. “Uh. How… how much can I ask for? What am I allowed to—”

    “Go for broke,” Brian urged her. “Just put it out there. I really do want a better idea of how you want this to go, what you’re interested in. What you like, now that you’re not… the way you were before. Chloe would’ve wanted to just sit on my face—pin me to the floor, buck and grind on me while I tongued her, until she got off.”

    “I-I did really love that,” Christine admitted in embarrassment. “Sorry. But. But, I don’t think—”

    “Hey, whatever you want,” Brian offered. “I mean, within reason because I am not going to hurt you or anything like that. But uh, otherwise? Go nuts.”

    “Um,” Christine mumbled. 

    “Please,” Brian said. “I’m gonna be judgment-free, here. If you liked the spanking thing, then—”

    “Can you just fuck me up?” Christine pleaded. “F-facefuck me, grab my face and just—use me, to get off? I would like that. If you were rough, if you spat on me and called me names—you can uh, you can still slap me around and not ‘hurt’ me. I guess. It doesn’t have to be like super hard slaps, just—just, if you can be like that with me. Treat me that way. It’s um, it’s something we can try out? Just this once? If that’s okay?”

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