Chapter Text
She ran her finger over the screw in her hand.
False wasn't paying too much attention. She reviewed her building plans for an expansion of her base, the little screw twirling around in her hand aimlessly. Her restless fingers needed something to do as her eyes darted over the sketches, trying to identify any problems that might arise should she try to build these.
She nodded to herself. All seemed fine; after this twelfth check, the final check, she was certain this house wouldn't cave in at any point. It would need to be structurally safe and sound
Not that she knew anyone who would live here that could get hurt, anyway.
She packed away the plans and walked to where she stored the materials, ready to get on with building.
This world, she noticed, was a little weird. Whenever she built something, it all came naturally. Her vision seemed to fade a little, her mind blank, her movements deliberate. When she snapped out of that daze, she realized she'd built whatever she had planned to build. Structurally safe and sound, in accordance with some of the weird laws of nature that reigned in this world.
The screw rested in her pocket. She had it on her when she first arrived in this world, her mind and memories a mess. She innately knew its purpose and how it did not fit anywhere. She could never use these screws in her builds, for her builds in these worlds never needed screws, or bolts, or any other similar materials. This world's magic aided her - a magic she grew more and more familiar with as she spent more time in this world.
She kept the screw in her pocket. It reminded her of home even if she had no idea what home was. Even if she was trying to make a home in this world until she could return.
Did she want to return?
The question resonated in her mind. Still, she was unsure about the answer. Whenever it came to mind, she reached in her pocket and let her fingers run over the grooves of the sharp metal of the screw. Never did it give her any answers or definitive responses, only comfort and fear of a past she could no longer recall.
The screw remained in her pocket. Nobody would know. Nobody could take it from her. Nobody would ask difficult questions. She could still play it cool and like she belonged in this world. Nobody would know and nobody would pry.
Her restless fingers always found the grooves in the cold metal, reminding her of what was lost and won.