Chapter Text
Chapter One
There was a drip somewhere. It was dark, the air blotchy with invisible damp, the skin on his arms raised in bumps with the cold. Chase had never been more grateful for the layers of his mission suit. Stone raised above him in an arc, signalling that they were underground - somewhere - the room they were in barely big enough to swing a cat, let alone keep two people hostage. He took a deep breath in through his nose, the icy water in the air tingling in his nostrils; his hypersenses couldn't detect any clue of their location in the air…
But there was a drip somewhere. It was relentless, stabbing into his mind whenever he tried to concentrate. Drip. Drip. Drip. He would say there was a fraction of a second between each one, but he calculated it, and it was exactly 1.24 seconds, so a second and a fraction, to be precise. Drip. Drip. It came from his left, somewhere in the shadowy darkness of the room they were being held in that he couldn't see. Drip. It was coming from stone, droplets falling into a puddle; he was thankful for his thick boots to keep the moisture out. Drip. Drip. Drip. And it just wouldn't stop.
"You're calculating the time between drops from that annoying dripping sound, aren't you?" By coincidence of annoying sounds, Bree's voice chimed in. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see him.
"No," he said sharply, feeling her shuffling behind him a little in a likely effort to try and get comfortable. They had been positioned back-to-back, their wrists and arms tied together - and to each other - in a very tight, very uncomfortable bind. They had been dumped on the floor by someone they couldn't recognise, save for a thick black mask covering their captor's face. Now, they had been sitting for God knows how long, Chase's knees to his chest, and his dumb sister's dumb hair irritating the back of his neck, in what he would have preferred to be silence, but was anything but, save for that incessant drip, drip dripping!
"I calculated it a while ago," he admitted, "I'm trying to come up with a way to get out of here."
"Wow, Chase Davenport being useful? That's a first."
"There's no need to be catty, Bree, at least this isn't my fault."
"My fault?" Bree tried to turn her head to face him, unable to do much more than speak out to the side. "How is this my fault?"
"Because you were the one that insisted on coming home through Frankland's Park."
"Because the last time we went down Link Avenue we were attacked!"
"Oh and what do you call this, a fun family day out?"
"How could I possibly have fun, Chase? I'm with you!"
"Ha-ha," Chase spat, mocking sounds escaping his mouth that only the undistilled rage from a sibling could produce. "You just think you're so perfect. See, this is what happens when I'm bumped down from Mission Leader. Our guards get dropped, and the only two people on the team with actual abilities get kidnapped. Great. Guess we've got to wait for the magical space-rock Brady Bunch to skip to our rescue."
Bree was silent for a fraction of a second - an actual fraction of a second. So short that Chase didn't even get the chance to calculate.
"Technically, I mean, if anyone, we're the Brady Bunch of the team. You know, being the siblings of the five of us."
"Didn't the Brady Bunch actually like each other?" he retorted, the corner of a smile slipping from his mouth despite himself. He felt Bree chuckle.
"Catch 'em on a bad day, you never know," she said, "Marcia and Greg may well have been held hostage in some underground lair." A long, defeated sigh floated up from her; she groaned, "I'm really never meant to leave the basement, am I?"
It was Chase's turn to shuffle now; he attempted to wriggle free of their bounds to little avail. He couldn't tell for certain what they were tied with, but he was fairly sure it was rope. Either way, it was mercilessly tight and with very little give. His and Bree's arms were practically glued together, their shoulders level as they sat. After a couple more attempts, he let himself catch his breath.
"Can't you use your laser bo?" Bree asked.
"Are you stupid?" Chase bit, "It'll slice us in half. My hand's level with your spine - it'd be pretty hard to superspeed when you're paralysed from the waist down, don't you think?" He paused, diagnostics clicking through his mind. "What about your super agility?" he asked, "Any way you can get yourself free?"
"Trust me, I've tried," she said, some bitter stain to her voice, "I would not be this close to you if it was willingly."
"Trust me," he nodded back, "The feeling is mutual. We better get out of this before Mr Davenport sees us. If he takes a picture and sends it to Adam, it'll be on every family Christmas card until we're retired."
He was so busy bickering with Bree, the drip, drip, dripping still plaguing his mind, that Chase didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late. An echoey click suddenly sounded from his right, and the obnoxious screeching of an iron gate signalled they had company. Footsteps, two sets, both male, young, one more wide-paced than the other, taller. He knew those footsteps.
"Roman and Riker," he greeted, letting as much threatening disdain as he could manage coat his tone. He suddenly felt Bree's fingers shift, enveloping his in tight panic.
"I think you two really ought to be worried about something more than a Christmas card," Roman, the taller of the brothers, finally came into Chase's half-lit view. His long hair was scraped back out of his scar-dappled face, a snarl stamped across his features as he slowly sunk into a crouch. The black of his clothes melted into the shadow behind him, and he reached a sleeved arm to inspect Chase's face. Chase jolted his head to the left, wincing as Roman's fierce grip pulled him back to face him by the chin. "But, good to know that you two seem to value family. That will prove… incredibly useful to us."
"What do you want with us?" Bree demanded, "Seems kind of half-baked to only take two of us. I mean, come on," she scoffed, "That's not even the majority. And Chase? Seriously? What do you need him for? There were surely more powerful team mem-"
A sharp slap echoed around the stone walls. Bree's words cut off to nothing, replaced by a shocked gasp. "Quiet!" Riker spat, leaving Bree to stunned silence.
"Hey!" Chase yelled, instinct briefly overpowering logic; he felt himself tense, furious he couldn't fight back. Even his forcefield wouldn't work from this angle. "You're gonna hit a girl for no good reason? It's a fair question. Why are we here?"
"You know why you're here," Roman rose to standing, beginning to pace back and forth at Chase's feet. "See, our father wants something, and we want it too. You two know what it's like - being in the family business and all. It's tough to let your team down. So we're going get that superhero list from you, whether you like it or not. Then we're going to get to go home to our father with everything he wanted. And you…" he flicked his gaze between Bree and Chase, a smile slowly tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well, you guys will figure something out, I'm sure."
"In your dreams," Chase spat, "We'll never tell you anything."
"Oh, really?" Riker raised an eyebrow, "Surely you'd prefer to go back to Daddy and tell him you lost a list, rather than telling him he lost a child."
Chase felt his chest tremble as his heart skipped over itself. "What are you talking about?"
"Do you seriously think we wouldn't notice?" Roman's smile spread to a sadistic grin. "Poor, brave, Chase Davenport. Smartest man in the world, saved countless lives, but every hero has his weakness, Chase."
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Riker lift his hand to strike again. Chase's breath hitched in his panic. "If you so much as lay a finger on my sister, I swear to god I'll -"
"Chase," Bree hissed, "Stop it. They're just baiting you."
"Ooh," Riker laughed, tutting, "You should listen to your sister, little boy." Chase's heart was in his mouth; he felt Bree's grip on his hand tighten. "Problem is…" Riker continued, "It's a little too late for that. You've already given up your weakness."
The sound that came this time was a loud thud. A fist collided with Bree's stomach and Chase felt the force ricochet through her and into him. She cried out as another blow whacked into her jaw.
"Nice try," Bree spat something out. "You're not getting the list from me that easy."
"Oh, I know, sweetheart, don't worry," Roman taunted, "We're not trying to get it from you…"
It happened before Chase could react. Roman leant over them and sliced loose the rope that tied Chase to Bree. He was pulled to his feet, wrists still bound behind his back, but the difference now was that Roman held him firmly facing his sister. He pulled away but found no give, his strength little match for his captor's.
Now directly in his line of sight, Chase could see a fresh cut had opened along Bree's cheek. A bruise already stained her chin and, without Chase behind her to stabilise her, she fell limp on her side, the remaining ropes tightly holding her arms behind her back.
"Now, I'd say we're reasonable people, so we'll give you a choice, Chase," Roman snarled in his ear. "Either you give us the list," he offered, "Or you watch your sister die."
Chapter Text
Chapter Two
"No!" Chase's cry escaped him without thinking, unable to look away. Riker slammed a fist down on Bree's back, a curdled gasp choking out of her as she crumpled onto the stone. Every muscle in Chase's body strained to leap forwards, but Roman's vice on him was tight. "Bree!"
"You know what you have to do," the rumble of Roman's whisper tickled the inside of his ear. "The list, or your sister. What's it going to be?"
Bree's hair matted itself to the side of her head, drenched in what Chase hoped in the half-dark was just sweat. She panted, shakily shuffling to a kneeling position, shoulders tensing in apprehension as she prepared for another hit. Riker stood over her, his boots planted either side of her. She looked so small, so pale, chin dripping with evidence of a split lip. She shivered, the cold and the damp getting harder for her to keep at bay; a cough spluttered from her lungs.
"Please," Chase couldn't look Roman in the eye from where he was, so he settled on Riker. "Please, I'm begging you, take me instead."
"Sorry, little boy," Riker plunged his hand onto Bree's shoulder, sweeping her to her feet with one merciless tug. "No can do."
Bree cried out as he threw her hard against the wall. Her whole body beat itself with stone, a loud pop in her shoulder echoing before she dropped to the floor again.
"Stop it!" Chase begged; Bree grimaced, struggling to even roll onto her side.
"We will, for the list." Riker raised his boot over Bree, retracting it to aim for her chest. He barely hesitated before it came swinging down to its target.
"Okay! Okay! Fine, fine, I'll tell you everything." Riker stopped, suspending his foot midair, inches away from Bree. Chase let out a breath as Riker stepped away from his sister. "I'll tell you," Chase confirmed, feeling the hot prick of tears behind his eyes, but willing himself not to let them fall. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, just please stop. Please stop hurting her."
Roman chuckled, meeting Riker's eye as the shorter of the two brothers stalked closer to Chase. Riker stopped dead in front of him, his gaze flickering between Chase's eyes. He tutted, a condescending sigh escaping him. "There now, such a good brother."
"Chase…"
A splutter from the ground made Chase turn back to Bree, who was grimacing, balancing herself on her knees.
"Chase," she gasped again, "Don't… don't do it."
"Bree, they'll kill you," the gravity of his own words caught on Chase's tongue, a short in-breath keeping his chest rising and falling as he stared at her. For a second - a fraction or more, Chase wasn't paying attention - it was just them. Bree and Chase, brother and sister, staring at each other from opposite ends of their cell. What was she talking about? She couldn't sacrifice herself! He simply wouldn't let her. If they let Roman and Riker get hold of the superhero list, they could fight it as a Force.
But if something happened to Bree. If Chase was witness to it, if he had to be the one to go home and face their team, to face their father. If he had to be the one to let the door swing open as he stood alone on the threshold, staring at Mr Davenport as his silent tears told him his worst nightmare had happened. If he had to call Adam, his older brother's warm voice unknowingly cheerful as he greeted him down the phone, just to be told that Chase had let their only sister die in front of him…
Chase couldn't do that. He couldn't live. And Roman and Riker knew that.
"You should listen to your brother, sweetheart," Roman warned, "He's supposed to be the smartest man in the world, after all."
Bree struggled to crane her neck to look the brothers in the eye. When she tilted her head, Chase saw a scarlet bruise swelling against her temple. "He is the smartest… man… in the world…" she breathed, "Which is…" her throat caught in a scratch and she coughed, "Which is why… he knows… we will never tell you where that God damn list is."
The brothers silenced for a moment, staring at each other in silent conversation as Chase could only stand and watch. Bree breathed in a crumpled heap on the stone, waiting, watching for something to happen. It was Riker who turned around first.
"Your choice, sweetheart. More fun for me."
He picked her up by her collar before Chase could let out another breath. Bree grunted in pain as she was forced to her feet, slammed into the wall and held there by Riker's arm across her chest. She kicked as much as she could but was met with another slap.
"Bree!" Chase tried, "Bree, please!"
"Your sister wants to sacrifice herself?" Roman sneered, "Let her play hero. It's the last thing she'll ever get to do."
"Last chance…" Riker stared at Bree now, reaching into his pocket and to Chase's horror, when his hand reappeared, it held something small, shiny, reflective. When his eyes adjusted, he saw a blade firmly in his grasp, aimed expertly inches away from Bree's throat. But Bree's eyes only narrowed; she kept her head held high.
"Do your worst."
"Please!" Chase was beyond reasoning with Roman or Riker, staring only at his sister, everything he had, desperate for her to listen to him. "Bree!" his words were barely full sentences, his panic bubbling over in his chest. "Bree, please, let me tell them. You have to let me tell them, they're going to -"
"Chase…" she briefly flicked her gaze from Riker to stare at her brother. Chase's breath hitched as her voice dropped into a whisper; she managed a small smile. He was sure he saw a tear streak down to her chin. "Listen to me," she paused, nodding, the softness in her tone was almost comforting. "You're going to be okay, Chasey. I promise."
"No!" He shook his head, the emotion that had threatened to spill from his eyes now flowing mercilessly. "Bree," he choked, "Bree, you can't, you can't -"
"You go lead the team," she told him, "You'll be alright, you'll have Adam, Leo, Mr Davenport…" her voice wobbled, "Tell Naomi all about me, okay?"
"No," Chase demanded, "No, you can tell her yourself. I am not letting you do this, Bree."
"Enough of the sappy goodbye!" Roman yelled, the deep demand slicing through Chase's eardrum. "Riker, do it."
The blade moved towards Bree's neck, touching her skin. She winked at Chase then, actually winked, as if to tell him that everything was going to be alright. How could she? Riker tightened his grip, Chase took a breath. Bree tried to catch his gaze, but he couldn't. He had to do something.
"Any last words?" Riker offered, Bree struggling for breath under the force of his arm. Bree shook her head, Chase horrified as Riker hardened his expression.
"Wait!" Chase heard himself saying, "Bree, please, if you love me, you'll tell them where it is. Don't make me do this. Don't make me do this without you. I can't, I can't -" the salt of his tears sank onto his tongue. "The only reason I am able to do any of this is because you are there next to me. Leaving the lab for the first time, our first mission," he sniffed, memories of their excitable faces in Mission Creek, chasing each other round their little lab, anxiety beating in their chests as they found their lockers for the first time. "The first day on the Island, when I couldn't lead my class, when we moved here. You are the only reason I got through any of that." Bree stared at him, her mouth parted open a little as her eyes softened with reflective tears. "Bree, you are my best friend. If I have to go home without you, I will never forgive you. Do you hear me? Never! Please tell them," he begged, "Please. Tell them where the superhero list is. Or let me, if you don't want to be the one to give it up. But don't make me fight without you." he gasped for his breath back, the desperation in his words making the air completely leave his lungs. A silence hung over them. "Please, Bree. I need you," Chase's voice cracked. "I need my sister."
Riker raised an eyebrow, holding the blade steady without drawing any blood from Bree's skin. Bree's mouth gaped, torn between her brother and her duty, and as Chase prayed that this wouldn't be the last time he saw life in her eyes, he watched her look at Roman, and Riker, and finally back to him. She hesitated, her gaze softening, and blinking something back, she turned back to Riker. She swallowed.
"It's at Mighty Med Hospital," she muttered, as if speaking quietly would discount the betrayal of her words. "It's hidden in plain sight, in the rubble where the old records room was. It's in a filing cabinet labelled 1963."
"1963." Riker, triumphant, dropped his grip on Bree's collar and she slumped, defeated, to the floor. Chase felt the binds on his wrists snap, and Roman freed him. Chase stumbled forwards and without missing a beat, the brothers clasped hands, swirling the black cloud of their power around them.
"If you're lying, you're dead…" Roman warned, and he and Riker disappeared in a flash of black cloud.
Chapter Text
Chapter Three
"Bree!" Chase tripped towards her in his hurry. His hands shook as he worked to untie her, her grimace at each freed bound not escaping his notice. He had never seen her like this. Now that he was closer, bruises stamped all the way up her arms, her face red from attack and her chest rising and falling in noisy, shallow gasps. She coughed, and Chase guided her into standing. He dropped his height, positioning himself under her so he could support her with her arm around his shoulders. "Are you alright? Can you walk? Where are you bleeding? Just take it easy…"
"Calm down, idiot, I'm fine," she sighed. Bree's teeth chewed her bottom lip, her knuckles visibly white and her eyes screwed tightly shut. He could see her attempts at hiding her pain but he wasn't fooled.
"Why did you tell them about Mighty Med?" Chase blinked through his confusion, slowly releasing his hands from her as she found her own balance. The superhero list wasn't at Mighty Med, it was on their computer system at Mission Command.
"A wild goose chase, Chase," she brushed him off, "God, for the smartest guy in the world, you're so slow sometimes it's painful. I haven't bought us long. When they realised I lied to them, they'll come back. I say we have about 10 minutes before we're in trouble again so we've got to get out fast. Can you use your molecular kinesis to -"
"Woah, woah, woah," Chase stuttered, arms out to steady her in case she toppled. A flurry of emotions swirled through him, his relief for just seeing her up and talking almost completely extinguished by such an intense fury that he had to stop himself from screaming. "Time out. We have a few seconds grace for me to lecture you. What the Hell were you thinking, Bree? You were going to let them kill you!"
And Bree had the audacity to scoff. "I wasn't going to let them kill me. I had it under control."
"Under control?" Chase's eyes pulsed wide, running a series of diagnostics with his bionic eye clicking to life. "Dislocated shoulder, bust lip, bruised kidney, concussion -"
"Would you stop?" she rolled her eyes - actually rolled her eyes at him. "Chase, I wasn't about to sacrifice myself, it was an act. They weren't going to buy the fake information if we just said it outright. And they certainly weren't going to buy it from you - they'd expect you to think of that. But they wouldn't expect something smart from me - me being a girl and them being insufferable boys - and it needed to come from a believable enough place."
"What?" Chase yelled, it was a fake out? He was completely stunned, his lips trying, but unable to form many words. "But…" all those things he said - he had genuinely thought she was going to… "But I -"
"Yeah," Bree sent him a lopsided smile, "I figured as much from that whole "wah-wah I need my sister" thing. Nice though - added to the dramatic effect."
"What was your plan if I hadn't said that?"
"I was going to change my mind at the last minute. Not wanting to die is motive enough. You've seen Roman and Riker, they love a flare for the dramatic, they thrive off that stuff."
"Were you going to let me know that?" he demanded, incredulous.
"I did wink at you!" she defended, infuriatingly calm, "It's not my fault you didn't understand my plan."
"But what about -"
"Hush, Chasey," she put a hand on his shoulder. "Escape now, questions later. Now use your molecular kinesis to get us the hell out of here!"
Chase paused, looking his sister up and down, completely gobsmacked. He had no idea that one of her bionic abilities was insufferable actress. "Right… sure," he mumbled. "Well," he swallowed back emotion, fresh tears threatening to form at the washing relief that she was okay. "Good. I'm glad you're… you know… alive and stuff."
Bree's smile warmed, and the hand on his shoulder tightened briefly in comfort. Her thumb rubbed his arm as he looked at her. "You too," she said, but just as Chase turned to the iron gate in front of them, his molecular kinesis whirring into action, out of the corner of his eye, he saw an evil twinkle morph into his sister's expression. She pouted in mock sincerity, "No, please don't die, Bree," she whined, "I need my sister, no, please!" an extra long emphasis came on the words, as she melodramatically sighed in her impression of him. "I need you, Bree! Wah-wah!"
"Shut up, or I'm leaving you in here."
"You wouldn't - you can't do this without me, remember?"
"Bree!"
She giggled. "I'm so telling Adam."
"Don't you dare!"
Chase tossed and turned in his capsule - or at least, as much tossing and turning as you could do in a capsule. It felt like his brain had never left that cell, like he was still there listening to that abhorrent dripping sound.
The image of Bree hadn't left his mind either. He was furious. She was acting so nonchalant, eating dinner like it was a completely normal weekend, watching a movie and laughing with the others like she hadn't almost died three hours earlier, like her arm wasn't in a sling and she didn't have ten stitches on her leg, or an icepack on her bruises, or was still dangerously concussed.
How could she not care? Chase had watched the life start to dim from her eyes, the acceptance break in her voice as she gave the order to have herself killed. Chase could still feel the restrain on his muscles from trying to break free to get to her, he could still feel the warmth of her blood on his hands as he tried to steady her. Maybe she did care - maybe she was just pretending, but either way, Chase was furious. Furious that it had happened, furious that he couldn't do anything about it, furious that someone hurt his sister and furious that she wasn't furious.
The things that he had said to her were completely true. Chase was the smartest man in the world, he was a complete encyclopaedia of everything… but the one thing he didn't know, is how he could ever live without his family. He talked the talk, cried independence, often adamant he could work alone, but he knew he was nothing without his siblings, and most certainly nothing without Bree. Adam and Leo - he loved them, they were his brothers, his partners; he knew he had their unwavering support. But Bree could calm him, ground him in ways the others couldn't. She lived with such confidence, such effortless joy, that sometimes it frustrated him that they were so different. But he knew that they were opposites for a reason, and he needed her. She was his secret weapon, and he couldn't be who he was without her.
It was some point between the inner monologue about how furious he was with Bree, and recapping her diagnostic scans in his head so he could prepare for her recovery, that Chase realised what he was feeling. His heart was beating fast, and his breaths weren't coming as deeply as they should. He had been jumpy since they had got home, making sure that Bree was right next to him so nothing else could happen. It wasn't fury at all, he realised. It was fear.
Fear was illogical, and he knew that there was no reason to be scared right now. They were locked safely inside their penthouse; the windows and doors were all secure. He was tucked into his capsule, and Bree was in hers. The night was quiet; there was nothing to fear.
So why was Chase still fearing it?
Enough was enough, he decided there and then. If he was afraid, then he had to prove to himself there was nothing to be afraid of. What he was feeling, logically speaking, was residual fear from seeing Bree get hurt. There was nothing that was going to happen to her tonight. So, again logically speaking, the way to stop being scared was to see for himself she was still safe.
Yes, that's right. Every problem has its solution, he reminded himself, and with the quiet stealth of a recon agent, Chase slipped out of his capsule, grabbed a flashlight from Oliver's nightstand and, careful not to wake the other boys, tiptoed out of their room and let the door swing gently closed behind him.
Out in the hallway, the shadows of the penthouse clung to the walls, watching Chase in every direction he looked. He swung his flashlight into a blank space and watched as the yellow glow dissipated his fear in beams. He smiled, triumphant that his solution was already working to calm him, and pressed on further, padding his way along the carpet to the girls' room.
His bionic hearing clicked obediently to life, and Chase paused for a second outside the door. Skyler's snoring beat rhythmically into his eardrums, far too loud to need to use his bionics to hear it, but he tuned them out. The thing he was listening for was…
Aha, he grinned, focusing his hearing on his target. From behind the door, within her capsule, Bree's breathing came. An inbreath, deep, long, slow, and its matching outbreath, confirming her sleep state to him. Her heartbeat ticked proudly, a beacon signalling her safety.
That should have been enough to prove to him. And Chase almost turned away.
"I should probably make sure…" he hovered his hand over the handle. To be fair, he told himself, he couldn't see Bree and Skyler. He couldn't really tell whose heart was beating. If he was being completely logical, who's to say it wasn't Mr Davenport, or Douglas, in Bree's capsule? Bree could be sleepwalking. She could have gone out for a walk, or she could be getting something to eat. She could be on the terrace getting fresh air, where Roman and Riker might be watching her, the perfect catch to fly off into the night.
Or Roman and Riker could be already in there. They were stealthy enough to get past Skyler, they could be creeping into her capsule right now. They might already have her tied up again. They might have a decoy placed in her room exactly for the purposes of fooling Chase!
Chase wasn't about to fall for their tricks. He slammed open the door without wasting another second, flashlight at the ready. No one hurt his sister on his watch.
"Chase? What the hell are you doing?" Bree lifted a groggy hand to shield her eyes from the beam of his flashlight. She squinted at him, standing slumped from sleep in her capsule, cosy in her pyjamas, her feet still secure in her slippers.
"Oh…" he nodded, glancing briefly at Skyler for good measure as she slept through it. The window was closed, the curtains still - there wasn't even a breeze. There was certainly no intruder. "Sorry, I -"
"Get out of my room, you moron," Bree mumbled, sleep taking her over before she could finish her insult. Chase awkwardly clicked off the light, watching as she closed her eyes and rolled her head back to sleep. He had offered to bring her a stool, the stitches in her leg still fresh, but she denied it. Her capsule would help the healing process anyway, which Chase knew. Her left arm was now cradled in a sling, and he could see the edges of bruises spilling out from under her sleeves. He listened as her heart beat, again, again, again, safely. She's okay, he told himself. She was breathing, she was sleeping, she was -
"Chase. Out."
"Sorry." His retreat was quick, closing the door behind him as he finally let out a breath he didn't realise he was keeping in.
Okay. That was that then. Logic prevailed. He had proven to himself that his sister was alright, that nothing was going to harm her. He was free now to go back to his own room and his own capsule, nothing to stop him from getting a good, solid sleep for the rest of the night. Right?
JasmineEvermore6258 on Chapter 3 Tue 10 Dec 2024 04:24AM UTC
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Kitcat2106 on Chapter 3 Tue 10 Dec 2024 12:26PM UTC
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kanapuro (Guest) on Chapter 3 Fri 04 Apr 2025 03:50AM UTC
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