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Chapter Text

You sit in silence for a long moment as you watch the credits roll on the Bloodmoney video playthrough. It's not real, you know that. Heck, you've heard the voice actor in other things and know that it's just a fabrication for entertainment. But it unsettles you nonetheless. The idea that there are people out there who would hurt someone for money and not think twice about it. Wryly, you remind yourself that the idea of horror is, surprise surprise, to be horrifying. It had exactly the intended effect. 

But curiosity gets the better of you, and after hearing a virtual man beg for his life, you decide to source the game yourself and give him a good ending. You can't honestly say that you'll commit to every click, you're more likely to get an autoclicker and just do something else until the goal is met, but it's something you want to do. Strangely, you feel like he deserves it. In the long run, it won't make a difference because of course it won't, it's a game. But it'll make you feel better, so that's what matters right now.

You're pleased to find that the game is not only free, but playable in your browser. So you load it up and click through the introduction, smiling to yourself as the voice-acted character greets you.

"Aww, you're so cute!" you gush softly.

It feels strange to be in control of this experience, and you find yourself wondering how anyone could harm this fellow when he's just sat there, so innocently. Once his dialogue stops, you give him a click. Nothing happens, obviously, except for your virtual counter raising. You laugh to yourself at how easily the human brain can be satisfied by 'number go up' and give him a few more clicks. When your counter reaches 50, Harvey speaks again, his voice drenched with enthusiasm. You eye the counter as it hits 100, knowing the shop is about to open. Sure enough, Harvey informs you about a cool new item to buy. You're not worried about opening the shop for the first time, there's only a feather in there. But masked by cute little white dots, the needle sits in the shop, presenting itself as your next goal.

You ignore it.

Armed with the feather, your total goes up in sets of 2, and you don't really notice any difference in Harvey. He repeats a prior line about being closer to greatness, and you briefly wonder if he's even registered the new tool. When you reach $200, Harvey bursts out laughing. He jokes about wanting you to stop, then reassures you that he's kidding and encourages you to keep going. When you reach $300, the same line plays. $400 rewards you with a singular line of new dialogue, and as you reach $500, your gaze flicks back to the shop. The sign is lit up again.

You open it, then close it again, giving the needle the briefest of glances.

Although you're aware that you're just going to get repeated lines from now on, you push onto 600 dollars, and are pleasantly surprised with another new line. You're making his day with these clicks. This is going to take a while. You knew that, but as you stare at your total of 700 dollars and he tells you for perhaps the third time that you're a step closer to greatness, you can understand why people choose the upgrades to make their money increase faster.

Even you, the peaceful person that you are, are considering the needle.

You're telling yourself that it might be like acupuncture and not actually hurt him, but you know that this is a horror game and clicking the needle is precisely what you should not do. 

You click the total to 1000 dollars, and after getting another repeated line, you're just about to mute the game and throw on an autoclicker to spam the rest of the clicks for you. Which seems rather pointless, in hindsight, because wasn't the whole idea that you're patient enough to give him a good ending? Maybe you should just leave instead, close the webpage down and do something else. You've made your point to yourself, you felt the urge and ignored it.

Sighing, you move your cursor towards the x on the tab, ready to close it. Harvey's eyes are creased shut in the cute way that anime characters often display, his elbows calmly resting on the booth and fingers threaded. But as you're just about to click and leave the game, his eyes snap open. You pause, wondering if the sprite simply timed out and reset, and a dialogue box pops up. Harvey's speech seems to come before the letters have finished filling themselves in.

"You're leaving?" he asks.

You raise an eyebrow, then click to another tab and check the reviews for the game, along with any patch notes for a potential update. It doesn't seem like there are any updates, and nobody's mentioning how Harvey reacts to you trying to close the window. The playthrough you watched was uncut, but you suppose that the player didn't try to leave, so it's not like this dialogue would occur. Maybe it's an easter egg of sorts? But people are always finding secrets, so if it was, you feel sure you'd have seen it on your feed in a different video.

You return to Harvey's tab and his smile is gone. His eyes seem to be staring through the screen, watching you. It's rather unsettling. You're sure that a sprite of him wearing that particular expression doesn't exist, but this can't be a modified version of the game because you got it from the creator's page itself. You're on the page right now. This is like a creepypasta, and you wonder if you're having a strange dream or you got bored and started imagining things. But even when you snap yourself back into focus and gently touch your hands to make sure you're awake, Harvey continues staring at you. The playful music in the background has stopped, and the two of you sit there in silence for a moment. It's reminiscent of the feeling which caused you to begin this endeavour.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you give him another click. To your disbelief, he snatches the feather and holds it in a closed fist. You're too stunned to react, but his voice leaves your speakers before you can try anything more.

"You're one of the good ones," he states firmly. "Don't leave."

"What?" you whisper back. "No, this isn't... this can't be..."

Harvey doesn't seem to care for your psychological whiplash, speaking again and drawing your attention. You don't want to miss anything he has to say, because if there's a chance that this isn't a practical joke, you need to be tuned in and concentrating.

"What's in the shop?" Harvey asks. "Tell me. You've been in there twice, but you still have the feather."

He looks down at the quill beneath his fingers, then pushes it back towards you. Almost instinctively, you click the feather and it disappears. Harvey continues looking at you expectantly.

"A needle," you tell him quietly. "I don't want to use it."

"I don't want you to use it either."

Harvey reaches out to you, and letting go of your mouse, you place your finger on the screen. Your hand would be too big, it would cover him, and you don't want to do that. You're not sure what you expect, but all you feel is the slight coldness of the glass on your monitor. Harvey sits back again, staring down at his hands.

"A needle is how it starts," he continues. "Most people move onto it as soon as possible. They hurt me. Maim me. Kill me. I've felt myself die. Over and over. Every time I go to sleep. They're more than nightmares. They're real. But when I wake up, I'm back at the booth again. Completely unharmed. Like a blank slate."

He falters, looking confused for a moment.

"Or... is it when I go to sleep that it resets? I don't know what happens when I wake up. I should know, but it's... fuzzy to me."

"You're in a game," you tell him. "It isn't a nice game."

You're expecting a sarcastic reply, but interestingly, he doesn't give you one. You suppose that he'd only start getting aggressive if you were hurting him, which you have no desire to do.

"What's it called?" he asks.

"Bloodmoney."

"Oh."

Harvey reaches up and touches his perfectly-coiled hair, dusting some unseen debris from his pastel shirt. He returns his gaze to you, expression unreadable.

"That... explains a lot, actually," he muses. "My wife put me in here. Into the virtual world. She said that she was running some kind of experiment. I guess the experiment is how much pain her husband can take before he cracks, haha."

You already knew that. You watched the sequel to his game and found out why he was in there. It surprises you that he knows. It surprises you that he can not only acknowledge his existence, but that in some capacity, he appears to be self-aware. You're borderline concerned with how easily you accepted that, but you suppose that spending all your time going, 'this can't be real' isn't going to help anyone.

"Do you think it's possible to get you out of there?" you ask softly. 

"I don't know," Harvey responds despondently. "I'd like to think so. I have an awareness of the screen and I can see you through it, so that's something."

You give him a few clicks, which translates to tickling him with the feather, and he starts laughing. He stares at you in an almost offended manner, then grins again and shakes his head. Or at least, you assume that's what the pose changes mean. As a static image, it's hard to get a read on him.

"Okay, okay," he says, pushing your cursor away. "I get it. I'll try to lighten up. It's just hard, you know?"

"I know," you tell him, even though you have no clue how it feels to be trapped in a game and tortured. "If it helps, I'll keep this tab open and the game unfinished so you don't have to wake up from it."

Harvey gives you a quizzical look. It seems that's never happened before, but you can understand why. The game has no save or load features, it's very much a single-play experience.

"Do you think that'll help?" he asks doubtfully.

"It's worth a try," you respond.

As you stifle a yawn, you realise how late it's gotten. You reach up to turn your monitor off, then hesitate. Will it be the same as closing the tab? You don't want Harvey to disappear.

"I'll be fine!" Harvey's voice suddenly reassures you. "I need to sleep, too. Think of it like closing a curtain, I'll still be behind it."

You turn off your monitor, then immediately turn it back on again. Harvey is still there, sat at the booth, now wearing a rather amused expression.

"See? Still here. Get some rest, we'll deal with tomorrow when it comes."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you leave your computer, crawl into bed, and fall asleep.

Chapter Text

When you wake up, your first thought is Harvey.

You initially ask yourself if you dreamed what happened last night, and after getting ready for the day and washing away the remnants of sleep with a nice shower, you're borderline uncertain if it even happened at all. Hesitantly, you turn on your monitor as you settle in front of it. The game is still running and the booth is there, but there's no sign of him.

"Harvey?" you ask, feeling rather silly for doing so. But when there's no response, a rush of panic comes and you almost consider tapping on the screen. "Harvey, are you there?"

A quiet yawn comes from behind the booth, followed by a soft murmur. Harvey appears slowly, his hair having fallen over his temple in a mess of splayed strands. He pushes them away from his eyes, then yawns again before stretching his arms up above his head. You quickly check him over for any damage, but it seems he's unharmed.

"Is there something in my teeth?"

"Huh?"

His question surprises you and you stare at him, causing him to give you a playful grin.

"The way you're looking at me," he states, tucking a few locks of pastel pink behind his ear. "Like I'm a goldfish or something."

It takes you a moment to realise that he's making this reference because he's separated from the world by glass. You shake your head hastily, hoping you haven't offended him. If his story is anything to go by, he gets stared at in an uncomfortable way on a daily basis.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues cheerfully, "I've been through worse. Just curious what you're looking for."

"Injuries," you admit softly. "I was checking to see if you'd obtained any injuries."

Harvey's smile falters, then he beams and gives you the closed-eye expression that you saw when you first met him in the game.

"Nah, I'm as right as rain! Seems your plan worked, I stayed here overnight. I slept for hours and didn't dream about anything."

You breathe an audible sigh of relief at this news. The Harvey in his sequel ends up dying after his wife fails to reset him back to full health, so keeping him away from her is your top priority. Keeping him away from the other players is equally important, but she has the ability to end his story for good and that's just a little more crucial.

"Do you think anyone's noticed?" you ask. "Your absence, I mean. There has to be something amiss in the game now, unless a version of you is still out there."

"Is there a way to find out?" Harvey tilts his head, then displays a rather pained look and groans quietly. "Before that, is there a way to feed me? I'm famished."

Although you already know what's in the shop, you open it again in hopes of finding something else. Of course, you don't. You find a needle. You're not really sure why you expected differently.

"What were you made in?" you muse rhetorically, downloading the Bloodmoney zip file from the website so you can look into its documentation. You're no novice when it comes to modifications, and if the game happens to be made in Ren'Py, you may be able to add your own touches to it.

"The fires of Hell?" Harvey suggests wryly. "Wait, no. That's my marriage. My mistake."

You poke your tongue out at him, then navigate to the folder of his game and look around inside it. These files are familiar to you. They're not even encrypted; his wife is sloppy with her presentation and clearly wasn't looking into the practical side of presenting a game so much as how to make money from it as soon as possible. You locate the script file and open it in Atom, your preferred editor, then find the list of shop items and the conditions to unlock them.

"Serious face," Harvey comments, causing you to blink and try to reset your expression.

You can faintly hear him laughing, but you don't let him break your concentration, as much as you want to see his amused expression behind the windows. Refocusing, you testingly type something into the code block and save it. When there are no errors or administrative boundaries, you return to Harvey's page and address him. It's best to make sure he's safe before trying anything new.

"Alright," you tell him. "I'm going to run up this version of the game to test if it'll accept changes."

"Will I be in it?" he asks curiously, clearly trying to see what's on your screen, but failing.

You're fairly sure the pane of your monitor is like a window and he can only see you, which seems to be confirmed by him frowning at you when he doesn't get an answer.

"Hey."

"I heard you," you respond. "I don't know. As long as you don't get dragged out of your tab, everything should be fine. But if other people are playing this and you haven't shown up, you shouldn't get pulled into the other version of the game either."

You run up the game via the executable file and click through the introduction. Interestingly, the dialogue is exactly the same, but there's no sign of the friendly-looking man at the booth. When the game begins, the music starts to play, but there's no Harvey. Curiously, you click. You gain a dollar. You click up to 50, and there's a falter but still, no dialogue. Hardly surprising. When you hit 100 dollars, the shop opens. You open it tentatively, and even though the feather icon is there, the label now reads, 'Bread'.

"What's going on?" Harvey interrupts. "Am I in there?"

"No. If you're not showing up for me, you're not going to be showing up for anyone else."

"Well, that's good," he states brightly. "Now you just need to feed me and I'll be one happy fella."

"I'm working on it."

You roll your eyes, return to the code, and grab a picture of bread from the internet. You use the image as a reference and draw it yourself so it's in the same style as the interface. With a change to the image link, you upload the new icon and run the game up again. With increasing excitement, you click through the opening story and the non-existent Harvey's lack of dialogue. Once you meet the 100 dollar criteria again, the shop opens. You click the button and purchase the 'Bread'.

It lands with a thud on the booth.

Not a feather, but a loaf of bread. Round and solid, looking like it's ready to be broken open and reveal its fluffy insides. You silently squeal to yourself, not wanting to give Harvey false hope, but it seems he's found his own way to get involved.

"Do I smell bread?" he asks, and you hear him sniffing. "Did you find a way to add bread to the game? Come on, don't hold out on me!"

"I don't know how to get it to you," you admit. "I've got it in this window, but you're in the web browser. I can't modify your version."

"Hey, I decided you're a good person," Harvey states, and you suddenly feel like a mouse being watched by a cat. "Don't tease me."

"I'm not!" you insist, moving your cursor and clicking the bread. "I have an idea, but there's no guarantee it'll work, so bear with me."

As you click the bread, it disappears. Presumably, you're now holding it, if the feather is anything to go by.

You return to Harvey's window and startle. He's much closer than you were expecting, staring right at the screen with his brilliant blue eyes.

"Come on, I haven't eaten since yesterday!" Harvey complains, though he's still smiling. "Make with the bread."

"Be careful," you tell him. "I switched out the feather with the bread so that if the image has changed and the item hasn't, you won't be biting into a needle, but a feather won't be any more pleasant in terms of texture."

You cross the fingers on the hand which isn't holding the mouse, then click on Harvey.

The bread falls onto his booth and he sits down at once, his attention shifting immediately. He grabs the bread, then breaks it into pieces. As you imagined, it's fluffy inside, and it drops a few crumbs during the process. He glances at you, then stuffs a piece into his mouth. You find yourself frozen, half-expecting him to, well, spit feathers, but he chews for a moment and then swallows before beaming.

"Ohhh, that hits the spot!" Harvey sighs happily, taking another piece and tearing into it. "Thanks a ton, honey-bun."

You both still at the nickname. He doesn't let the silence last, continuing to eat.

"It's really good," he tells you, as if your face isn't turning pink. "Where did you find it?"

"I... added it to the game files," you explain hesitantly. "Luckily, the cursor seems to act as a transmitter between the modified version and the one you exist in."

"And in layman's terms?" 

He dusts the crumbs from his booth, then resumes his usual threaded-fingers pose, watching you.

"I can carry things from one window to another using my mouse," you simplify.

"Ohhh. Can you carry me? I might be safer in your downloaded version than I am in the web one."

You frown thoughtfully. Clicking on Harvey just translates to, well, clicking on Harvey.

"If I try to pick you up, you just get touched with whatever I'm holding," you inform him.

You give him a click to prove your point, rolling your eyes as he pounces the fresh loaf which appears.

"Hey," he scolds after clearing his mouth. "Don't roll your eyes at me. I'm hungry, this is all I have."

"I'll try to code in something more balanced for dinner."

"I'm hoping to be able to source my own food by then."

"Besides, didn't you just eat a whole loaf of bread?"

"It was a small baguette or something, hardly sizeable enough to be cut into slices, let alone fill a man."

Harvey begrudgingly pushes the remainder of the bread away, giving you a pointed stare.

"Don't make yourself sick," you warn softly. "And don't try sourcing your own food in the game. There could be poisoned berries, we don't know what this woman is capable of."

"Except we do," Harvey counters flatly, "and she'd absolutely add those in. Not that I can leave the booth anyway."

"I'm working on that. I'm working on a lot of things. Mainly a way to get you out of there."

You didn't mean to say that last part out loud, a look of guilt appearing as the words leave your lips.

"Hey..." Harvey's voice is suddenly soothing as he leans towards the screen. "If she could put me in, you can get me out. Have a little faith in yourself."

You smile, but it doesn't meet your eyes. If you can't free him from his virtual prison then aren't you just as bad as the people who torture him?

"You've got this," he encourages. "One step at a time. It's just like the clicks. Every click is one step closer to greatness!"

An idea suddenly hits you. You clear your clipboard of copied items, only partially surprised to find the bread image in there, then you give Harvey a ton of clicks. He mostly ignores them until a dialogue trigger comes, then he laughs before huffing at you.

"As much as I enjoy being tickled," he states, "I don't really see the point now. Also, did you remove my bread?"

"I need money," you state firmly, glancing at your counter. "I'm sure as heck not using any of the other tools on you, so I'm afraid you'll have to get used to the feather. If I hadn't swapped back, I'd have just covered your booth in baguettes."

"That sounds like a euphemism," Harvey teases, so you click him a good few times more until he's definitely distracted by the feather.

"Okay, okay!" he laughs. "But what do you need the money for?"

"The hammer," you state.

His smile drops.

"You're not going to-"

"Of course not," you interrupt. "Just trust me, okay?"

Harvey takes a deep breath, his eyes closing.

"Okay."

Your counter suddenly increases to 99,999 dollars and you blink in surprise.

"There's no need to click me to build up the money," he explains. "I can just give it to you. Normally, that option isn't open to me this early on, but luckily for us, it's there."

He watches you intently as you open the shop. You swallow hard, the items popping into view like unwanted adverts. Fighting the urge to close the shop again, you buy the hammer.

You bring your cursor all the way over to the edge of the window, close your eyes in case your plan goes wrong...

...and click.

Chapter Text

"NO!"

Harvey's scream sends chills through you and your feel your heart leap into your mouth. There's a sickening crunch, and you almost can't bring yourself to look at the screen. Stupid, stupid! Why did you think that grabbing the hammer was going to-

"Phew. Sorry, I think I got a bit overdramatic there."

You peek at the monitor and Harvey is... completely fine. He gives you a sheepish look, then gestures towards the edge of your screen. It turns out that what made the crunch was not, as you feared, any of Harvey's bones, but the side of the tab fracturing under the hammer.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you snap, glaring at him as your pulse slowly returns to normal.

"Sorry!" Harvey holds up both hands and looks deeply apologetic. "I thought... I know you said you weren't going to, but you grabbed the hammer and..."

He exhales softly, and you realise that he was just as frightened as he made you in that moment. 

"Nobody's ever used the hammer for good, I'll put it that way," he concludes quietly. "But never mind that, look what you did!"

Despite Harvey having previously stated that he can't leave the booth, he does just that. He walks out from behind the booth in slowly interchanging frames and kneels by the crack in the wall. Your first thought is to grab and move him so you don't end up hitting him with the hammer by accident, but if you click him... you'll hit him with the hammer by accident.

"It needs a few more hits before it'll break," you tell him, as if you know what you're talking about.

You're honestly stunned that using the hammer on the window did anything at all. You were half-expecting the game to just assume you wanted to use it on Harvey, but without even buying the needle, let alone using it, you hoped that the conditions to do so hadn't been fulfilled. Luckily, you were right, but you still feel slightly nauseated from hearing his scream when you clicked.

"Stand back, okay?" you order firmly. "I don't want to hurt you."

You're expecting a little bit of protest, but he backs away from the side of the window without a word. Feeling more confident in your actions now, you click the crack again. It splinters, sending lines across the side of the display.

"Wait!" Harvey's panicked voice sets your nerves on edge again and you look over at him. "What if that destroys the game? The ground is breaking here. I don't want to fall through it."

"Stay away from the broken parts, then. I need to see what'll happen if we break this window."

"We? I think you're the one holding the hammer."

If you could put down the hammer at this point, you would. Not because you're giving up, but because he clearly still doesn't trust you. With your tool of choice, you understand his apprehension. It's not personal to you, he's just been through a lot.

"Harvey, trust me," you state determinedly. "I don't know how this'll go, but I'm not leaving you in the game without at least trying to break you out."

"I just..." he begins, putting his hand on your screen again, "I just don't know how to trust anymore. I've been married to Eun-Mi for ten years, and she never gave me so much as a hint that she wasn't happy, let alone that she wanted to hurt me."

You place your fingertips on his hand. It's still just cool glass beneath, but it seems he appreciates the gesture.

"Okay," he says after a moment, "let's give this a shot."

You wait until he's on the other side of the screen, then click the window a third time.

The interface smashes beneath your cursor, fragmented pieces falling and shattering into smaller shards as they hit the bottom of your monitor. Harvey stares at you in disbelief, then tentatively walks behind what's left of the booth. He examines the jagged half of the glass pane, and you suspect he might try and touch it, but luckily, he knows better.

"This is... so weird," he comments, returning his gaze to you. "I can see light coming through the broken part. It's like you've smashed a wall and the sun's behind it. But it's not bright enough to be sunlight."

Testingly, you turn down the brightness via your keyboard.

"Did that change anything?" you ask softly.

"Yes! The light dimmed. Is it the light of your monitor? Is that what I'm seeing?"

He inches closer to the cracked edge. A crumbling sound can be heard, then the ground gives way beneath his feet and he cries out as he begins to fall.

Chapter Text

"Harvey!"

You let go of your mouse because your first instinct is to try and grab him with the cursor, helplessly watching him descend down your screen. There's a moment of apprehension as he hits the bottom, and you half-expect a wince or a yelp, but there's nothing. You grab the Bloodmoney tab and pull it into a window in its own right. Harvey doesn't react. Before you can stop yourself, you shut the tab completely.

He remains, face-down, unmoving.

Testingly, you click around the monitor. Without the game, you shouldn't be holding a hammer anyway, but it's good to check before trying to engage with Harvey directly. It's reassuring that you could do things like move and close tabs and no damage was inflicted, seemingly proving that the tool only exists within the virtual environment of Bloodmoney. It seems Harvey can exist outside of the game, too. But worryingly, since he fell out of his window, he's been unresponsive.

You give him a click, and he groans softly.

Oh, thank goodness. He's still alive. You were starting to feel seriously worried after seeing him hit the deck. Not that that worry has subsided, because he's still laid out like a crumpled paper doll. He's smaller now, about the size of your thumb, and you can see his entire form from head to toe. From his floppy hair to his pink-tipped shoes.

"Harvey?" you say gently, giving him another few clicks.

"Is Toby even my son?" he murmurs, curling up protectively. "What else have you lied about?"

As you move your cursor away to leave him to his dreams, he suddenly sits bolt upright and grabs it. His piercing blue eyes lock on yours, then he exhales softly and releases it again.

"Sorry," he states quietly. "You startled me."

You instantly notice that his movements are far more fluid now. As if pictures have been added between his frames to create a smoother animation. He stands up, takes a few testing steps, then strolls over to your scroll bar, puts his hands on it, and pulls. You watch in amazement as your page travels upwards.

"Well," he comments at last. "That is new. Is this what you've been seeing all this time? What page are we on?"

"Eun-Mi's creator page, I suppose," you tell him. "Yes, this is my monitor. How are you feeling? That was quite the fall."

You feel like your dialogue with him is stiffer somehow. Maybe he realised he was talking before waking and now feels awkward about what you heard. But he puts your mind at rest with a grin, sitting down again before hugging his knees to his chest and putting his chin on them.

"You really care about me, don't you?" he asks, disbelief tingeing his voice. "This isn't just a matter of seeing what happens next, you actually care about my wellbeing. Can't say I'm used to that, but I ain't complaining."

Feeling relieved, you click his hair, as if imitating a head pat. To your surprise, your cursor turns into a little hand. Curiously, you hold the click and move the mouse around, and the hand ruffles his hair. Harvey's eyes close momentarily, a look of contentment appearing on his face, then he blushes and shoves the hand away. You watch the cursor glide across the screen about an inch before it comes to a halt.

"Sorry."

You apologise automatically, worried that you've stepped out of line. You didn't really mean to pet him, you just wanted to offer some kind of comfort in his time of doubt and insecurity. Heck, you didn't know that petting him was even possible.

"People have taken my sight and set me on fire," Harvey states wryly, "and you're apologising over touching my hair? I hit the jackpot with you, didn't I?"

He averts his gaze, toying with a pink strand of hair as it rests by his shoulder. You're not sure if he's being sarcastic or not, but if he is, it concerns you. You're treating him with kindness, and you've liberated him from his game; does he still not trust you?

"Look..." He makes eye contact again, and his iced irises seem to see right into your soul. "I'm still a married man. For better or worse. If I ever get my hands on Eun-Mi then death may do us part, but... I don't mind you touching me. It felt nice to have my hair stroked. Maybe to you, I'm just lines and colours on a screen, but you seem to respect me nonetheless. Thanks."

Before you can respond to his words, he climbs up the side of your screen as if there's an unseen ladder to aid him, then leaps onto one of your tabs and dangles from it. The tab activates, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"What are you doing?"

Harvey drops, landing softly on the floor this time, then turns his back to you and begins examining the contents of the tab. You had YouTube open before this experience began, and he's now eyeing your feed with apparent interest. Since you can't see his face, you don't know what expression he's wearing, but you hope it's a positive one.

"Well well," Harvey muses, reading the titles of the suggested videos aloud. "Bloodmoney - All Secrets and Hidden Details. Harvey, but he's in control. Harvey Harvington, all voice lines."

He turns to face you, a definite smirk on his lips.

"I thought people only wanted to see me suffer, but it seems you're quite the fan. Should I be concerned or flattered?"

"It's research," you explain weakly.

"Research on a game character that you weren't aware possessed sentience until yesterday?" he queries. "You can sell that story if you want, but I'm not buying it."

He jumps over to the scroll bar and rides it down, watching the page climb until it pauses to reload. Hopping off again, he turns away to watch the results as they start to appear. You use your cursor to grab him by the waist, not wanting to yank his hair by accident, then drop him on the other side of your screen and close the tab. His smirk seems to only grow wider, soon breaking into a grin.

"More research?" he asks knowingly.

It doesn't seem to bother him that you can now pick him up and move him around. He looked a little surprised at first, but seemed to acknowledge that you wouldn't hurt him and therefore showed no objection. You were hoping to distract him with the sudden displacement, but you've achieved no such effect. He's not dropping the topic.

"More research," you reply firmly.

"Cute."

You resist the urge to drag him into your modified version of Bloodmoney and pelt him with bread. Instead, you go into there, grab the feather, and click him while holding it. He giggles and darts away, and you chase him around your screen with the cursor, soon finding yourself laughing too.

"We should be focusing on how to get you out of the computer completely," you remind him after composing yourself. "This is a good start but it's not freedom."

"Well, if you give me an onscreen keyboard, I can research while you're asleep," he hums. 

"I'm not sure the internet has a section on how to break people out of the computer that you thought were fictional but it turns out they're actually imprisoned," you state doubtfully.

"If I can kill the player in my dreams, how hard can it be to smash a bit of glass?" he asks cheerfully.

You stare at him for a long moment.

"Kidding! I'm kidding. They were desperate times. I'd definitely ask before trying to get out of here by force."

He wanders across your screen and sits down in the corner, trying to comb his hair back into its usual style with his fingers. You modify the code of your executable file in the same way you did with the bread, then drop a brush next to him. He looks at it, then beams, immediately starting to untangle the fluffy locks.

"Thanks, darlin'! Wish I had my hair gel too, but it can't be helped."

Rolling your eyes, you add a tub of hair gel to the code, mock up an image of it, and drop it next to the brush. You're expecting him to be delighted, but he's looking at you disapprovingly as you return from the other window.

"What? You don't have the right to judge me, it takes a lot to look presentable, especially after sleeping on the floor."

Oh, the eyeroll? Oops.

"I wasn't judging you," you protest. "I-"

It's then that you realise he's trying not to laugh. He's teasing you. His smile overtakes and he grins, picking up the hair gel.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," he states warmly. "You've grown really defensive since I opened that tab. It's fun to see your reactions to stuff."

Covering his fingers in the gel, he begins raking it through his hair, coating every strand with meticulous precision.

"So," he begins, no longer looking, yet still seemingly watching you, "what is it you like about me? Don't be shy, I won't laugh."

You shrug, making a general noise that sounds like, 'I don't know' but with several letters cut out and the separate words condensed into a jumble of sound. You're not about to admit that you have a crush on him, especially when he's in front of you, preening like a peacock.

"Oh yeah!" you say, suddenly opening the code block again. "You need a bed, don't you? I'll get one drawn up for you. Maybe a mirror as well? Not sure how it'd work in this environment."

"But-"

"And a wardrobe maybe, so you could change your clothes."

"Why?" Harvey asks, locking his gaze with yours again and giving you a seductive look. "So you can see me n-"

You shut the monitor off and flee from your room, Harvey's laughter echoing beneath the pane of black as you do so.

Chapter Text

You don't leave Harvey alone for long.

Considering what he's been through, there's probably some anxiety acting on his mind that grows every minute you're away, so you only take a few to cool off before switching the monitor back on. 

Harvey flinches at your sudden appearance and stares at you, unsmiling. The gel is back on the floor, the cap beside it, and the brush is pretty much where you put it when you first added it to the desktop. You get the feeling that Harvey stopped styling his hair the second you left. You don't like seeing that expression on him, it reminds you of the one he's wearing in court in one of his endings.

You're about to speak, but Harvey gets there first. His voice is dull and monotone, like it's lost its sparkle.

"If you're going to hit me, just get it over with already," he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

"I'm not!" you respond, appalled. "Why would I?"

"Because I pushed the line," Harvey states darkly. "I made you uncomfortable. I also flirted with you despite us having just met. Hell, you've probably got a partner who'd take my eye out if they knew what I'd done. Maybe in my past nightmares, they already have."

"You didn't, you didn't, I don't mind that, and I don't," you state firmly, addressing his multitude of grievances at once. "Even if I did, I wouldn't want a partner who'd hurt someone. Jealousy can be a terrible monster, but if it caused someone to inflict pain on another, I'd be bringing the police into the matter."

"I didn't make you uncomfortable?" Harvey clarifies, seeming to brighten just a little. He still can't bring himself to look at you. "But you ran away."

"I ran away because I was flustered," you tell him, starting to feel your face heat again at having to explain yourself. "In case you hadn't noticed, I like you. I certainly wasn't expecting you to come to life and start talking to me, but I don't begrudge it at all."

Harvey's gaze darts to the hair gel, then returns to the floor. You pick up the gel with your mouse, holding the click, and drag it over to where he's sat. He grins sheepishly, accepting your offering and dipping his fingers back into the tub. Then, he resumes running it through his pink fronds and scrunches them gently, some of the curl starting to return.

"Thanks."

His voice is gentler now, the chagrin having faded from his expression. You notice his shoulders lowering, realising that they'd been elevated before due to his distress. Now that he's come to terms with the fact that you're not his enemy, he tangibly relaxes and devotes his full attention to his grooming session. You shake your head good-naturedly and leave him to it, opening the Bloodmoney creator page again and scrolling down to the reviews. It's best to do this while he's distracted, you don't want him seeing anything potentially upsetting.

The reviews are fascinating. You find yourself wanting to read more of them as the gravity of your actions sinks in and you realise that you're comforted by the pressure.

I load up the game and Harvey's gone. Is my version broken?

Why isn't Harvey showing up?

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚢.

On and on it goes, every comment displaying equal confusion about the man that's disappeared from his own game.

You did that.

Before you realise it, an hour must've passed, because Harvey finishes his routine and his hair is back in the cute curl you beheld upon first meeting him.

You try to close the page before he can take an interest in it, but luckily, he reacts positively to the reviews. At least, at first.

"There's a lot of people wondering where I am," he comments, voice growing bitter as he continues. "Probably complaining to Eun-Mi about being unable to play out their twisted little desires."

You choose not to comment on that, but he seeks your input regardless.

"What would you do?" he asks imploringly. "If you found me in your world, a living human, at my booth and giving out a dollar for being touched with objects. Would you ask questions? Would you even stay?"

"I don't know," you mumble, your honesty getting the better of you. "I'd check you were sane of mind before anything else. This world is so full of misery and deceit that anyone offering up kindness immediately raises suspicion."

"Is your world so jaded that a genuine attempt to do good is seen as some kind of scam?" Harvey asks dejectedly.

You nod, but add quickly, "But it's not always the case. Some people genuinely do good and are acknowledged for it. People rescue dogs from flooded houses or buy a meal for a homeless person, maybe they compliment a shopkeeper to boost their confidence, maybe they offer words of sympathy in a trying time. Some people likely do good and never get acknowledged for it, but they're not doing good for the acknowledgement so it doesn't matter to them."

"Are you one of those people?" Harvey cuts in, not quite interrupting you but barely giving you enough time to add another point to the topic.

"I try to be a good person," you muse. "Sometimes it's impossible. You end up hurting someone without meaning to. You never set out to cause harm but you still do. That's just the way things go."

He considers your answer as he screws the lid back onto the tub and puts it next to the brush.

"There's a big difference between saying the wrong thing and actively choosing to poke someone with a needle," he states gently.

"But do they hurt an equal amount?" you ask quietly. "When you're under that pressure, do you still see the good in people, or do you just hope that it exists?"

"You appeal to their humanity." Harvey lifts his gaze to yours, placing his hand on the screen again. "That's all you can do."

You touch it with a fingertip, surprised to feel the slightest hint of warmth beneath the pane.

"You at least know," he adds, "that the person who speared you with their words and shows remorse is not going to return to make things worse. They know they did wrong, they want to make it right. The people who hurt others on purpose know they did wrong and they want to see just how far they can push."

His eyes flare dangerously, and you see a hint of mania within them, like firelight reflecting on slivers of broken glass. You'd be lying if you said it didn't thrill you just a little. Seeing someone so submissive and agreeable stand up for himself and bite back is satisfying, you can't deny that. You'd never push him to that extreme yourself, but he gives you flutters in your stomach when he snaps in the game.

"Darlin'?" Harvey's voice yanks you back to reality, and you wonder what your expression must've looked like to him. Hopefully not unsettling or concerning. You know your cheeks are still burning though.

"Mm?"

"You were miles away," he informs with a grin. "Anywhere nice?"

"I was just thinking about stuff," you brush him off. "Harvey, what will you do if you get out of here? The computer, I mean. Will you go back to Eun-Mi?"

"I'll go back to Toby," Harvey responds, deadpan. "But I want to stand before Eun-Mi one last time. To see the look on her face when she realises she can't use me as her plaything anymore. That I'm not her toy. That I survived, I escaped, and she's lucky I'm not the kind of person who'd put her in a torture simulator for money."

Considering he spoke about killing her not long ago, you feel this statement is a marked improvement.

"Toby is my priority," he continues, his tone softer now, growing fond. "I dearly miss the little lad. I won't punish him for her actions."

You briefly wonder if he'd try and live with you after that, bringing Toby with him. Unless the house is his, and Eun-Mi is just living there? You don't really know enough about the situation to make assumptions, let alone plans.

"I'll try and get you out," you promise, trying not to face the reality that you have no idea how, short of breaking the screen. "I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Maybe I'll say it until I succeed."

"I hope you succeed soon, then," Harvey quips with a smirk. "You of all people know how annoying it can be to sit through repetitive dialogue."

You thread your fingers, prop your elbows up on the desk, and beam at Harvey, letting your eyes fall closed as you announce cheerfully, "Every click is one step closer to greatness!"

Chapter Text

"Good morning, darling!"

Harvey greets you cheerfully when you turn your monitor on, but you notice to your dismay that he's now accompanied by the two bars you saw in Bloodmoney's sequel, and they're both incredibly low.

"Oh shoot, I forgot to feed you!" you respond, grabbing the modified version of the game and adding something hastily, unsure quite how the actual mechanics will pan out.

After making sure that Harvey's a safe distance away, you click, dropping an entire fridge onto the desktop with a loud thunk.

"Don't worry about it, honey," Harvey starts to reassure you, before getting distracted and racing to the fridge. He eagerly rips open the door, and you can't see the contents because it opens towards you, but he surfaces with a bowl of cereal.

As he eats, one of the bars goes up. But the other remains concerningly low. You can understand him not being happy overall, but he seems absolutely thrilled at this moment.

"Is everything okay?" you ask gently.

He falters, then offers you a small smile before finishing the cereal and sitting down. You're curious why he didn't sit down first, but decide it was a matter of priority and choose not to comment.

"I, uh... I call it your world, don't I? As if the simulation is all I have. It was my world once, before I got put in here, yet I act as if..."

Harvey sighs heavily, soundlessly tapping the spoon on his knee.

"As if I'm nothing but a character for people's entertainment. When did that happen? I've never seen the bad in the world before. I was in school as a child, then as an adolescent, then I became an adult, a worker, a family man. Met Eun-Mi, graduated to being a father. We lived in an idyllic little bubble. One where I genuinely believed I'd be safe to give out money at the roadside."

He puts the spoon on the floor, staring at it. You get the feeling he doesn't want to meet your eyes right now.

"It sounds silly, doesn't it? That a man in his thirties didn't know how dangerous the world is. I guess it just never mattered. We were warm and cosy, we never invited the darkness in so it didn't matter if it existed beyond the door. Clearly she knew about it. Knew that people are willing to hurt in exchange for money. Even murder. But if I died in reality, I'd die once. If I died in the game, I'd just be reset and start over."

The plastic spoon snaps under his sudden pressure and he looks at the separate halves with wide eyes, freezing like a deer in headlights.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I guess I struggle talking about this."

You make sure you're not holding anything, then use the cursor to gently stroke his hair. Although you're fairly sure you mess it up a little by accident, he doesn't seem to mind. He allows the touch until you let go of the mouse to tend to a stiffness in your finger, then he looks up at you as if questioning why you stopped.

"It's okay," you soothe, clicking again and continuing the petting. "Anyone would react the same. What you've been through is awful."

You weren't paying attention to his other bar until now because you were distracted, but it catches your peripheral vision as it begins to rise. It seems your affection is lifting Harvey's mood.

"I've been thinking more about getting you out," you state, changing the topic slightly. "The most obvious way would be to smash my screen, but I don't believe that would open an exit for you. Likewise, if you smash it from the inside, I don't know if you'd make it out. At the very least, you'd have to crawl through broken glass and I'm not letting that happen."

Harvey catches your cursor while it's still in the hand form, nuzzling his cheek against it. He doesn't speak, seemingly aware that you haven't finished your thought.

"You said before that if Eun-Mi put you in, I should be able to get you out," you muse. "Well, if I can reverse the polarity of the machine that put you into the virtual world, I should be able to get you out again."

"But you don't have access to the machine," Harvey states quietly. "Eun-Mi wouldn't let you use it if you begged her."

His eyes suddenly fill with desperation and he puts both hands on the screen. "You're not thinking of going there, are you? You'd likely end up in my place, sat at that awful booth."

You don't deny your intentions. Without that machine, you don't know how else to get him out.

"Hey!" Harvey bangs his fists on the glass as you avert your gaze, and you can feel him glaring at you. "Don't be so stupid! You're all I have, you can't just go running into danger!"

"But you're going to die in there!" Your voice rises an octave and you feel a lump form in your throat. "If the fridge runs out or the code stops working, if the computer forces an update while I'm away, if there's a power cut—"

You swallow hard, fighting to maintain composure. You only met this man a few days ago, he shouldn't matter so much to you; but he does.

"Maybe there's another way," Harvey suggests softly. "Maybe someone else has mastered the same technology and you can recreate Eun-Mi's machine with their guidance."

Shakily, you open a new tab and hesitate. What do you even search for?

[Withdrawing a person from the virtual world.]

Plenty of results, but none of them helpful or relevant.

[How to build a machine to transfer consciousness.]

As expected, not a single link or suggestion is even remotely useful.

[Is it possible to store a human mind inside a computer?]

Lots of debate on that one, but scientifically speaking, the general consensus is no. If people don't even believe it's possible, you don't stand much chance of finding any guidance on how to build a machine to do so, let alone learning how to reverse one.

"Keep going!" Harvey encourages, and you give him a tired look.

No matter how you phrase it, you're not going to find what you're trying to accomplish on the internet.

"I'm sure we'll find something soon," you respond, holding your temple as a warning pain creeps through it, "but I'm starting to get a headache. I'm going for a breather, okay? Do you need anything before I head out?"

"Just stay safe," Harvey responds warmly, sending a fluttering sensation through you.

You nod, worried that the butterflies are going to graze their wings on the gnawing guilt that's also in your stomach.

"I'll try," you reply, grabbing your coat from the hook and leaving the house before you can think better of it.

Chapter Text

When you awaken, you sigh heavily. The cable from your headset must've dug into your cheek last night, leaving a reddish line. You trace your fingers along the indentation, briefly wondering how it feels to be cut open. The thought makes you shiver, but you brush it off. That's what you're working to prevent for Harvey, that's why you're doing all this. Your neck is sore from having to wear such a heavy piece of technology, but you roll your head gently from side to side to try and ease the crick. It'll be worth it, you're sure of that.

One thing that weighs on you more than the headset, is your guilt from lying to him.

Uploading people into the digital world involves new, albeit black market, technology. But the transfer of consciousness is hardly a piped dream anymore, you've seen that with your own eyes. There were rumours circulating about what went on underground, you didn't need to be part of anything to know about it, but Harvey's interaction with you proved that the technology not only exists, it also works.

You probably put yourself on several lists in the process, and wouldn't be surprised if armed soldiers burst through your door in the not-too-distant future, but your curiosity went beyond containment a few weeks prior and you delved into the darker side of the internet. You found a headset which claimed it allowed you to enter games by modifying your brainwaves in your unconscious state. It promised an experience beyond reality, where you could step into another world and interact with every element while remaining in the safety of your own corporeal body. Although you maintained a level of caution, keeping in mind that the headset could be a hoax and fry your brain, you initiated a transaction and it arrived on your doorstep not long after.

Bloodmoney had been your fascination since it came out, specifically Harvey Harvington. He was fictional, voiced by Dexter Manning, and sweeping the internet as one of the latest horror game trends. You watched the voice actor play the game himself, voicing the lines in real time, and there could not be a more convincing argument that the entire concept was nothing but a game. Nonetheless, it was a game you wanted to play correctly. 

When you connected the headset to your computer and carefully activated it for the first time, you experienced nothing. Reluctantly, you took to your bed and trusted that the equipment wouldn't kill you as you slept, then found some level of comfort and drifted off. As soon as your subconscious mind took control, you found yourself in a rather pleasant, if sparsely decorated room. There were only a few things of note. A bed, a bedside table, and a computer, complete with a monitor, keyboard, and mouse.

You found the computer was already on, and you turned on the monitor to find your regular desktop. Once you loaded up Bloodmoney, there was Harvey. Admittedly, you were disappointed that you couldn't actively reach him. He was behind a screen, just like he was in the waking world. But as he began to speak with you, you realised something. The headset allowed you to access the world Eun-Mi lived in. The world that Harvey was in before she uploaded him. If you managed to get him out of the computer, you'd be able to engage with him for real.

Unfortunately, you can only access that world while you sleep.

Beyond the headset, you're in everyday reality. Bloodmoney's just a game, Harvey's just a set of images and audios. You never expected him to possess sentience, you simply wanted to play the game on a closer level. Like using a virtual reality headset, you wanted to be able to reach out and touch him as if he were in front of you. What you gained was so much more than that. You're fairly certain that you're the only person in the world who knows that Harvey exists beyond his code. People would call you delusional if you tried to convince them of this.

In his world, Harvey is a man whose wife trapped him inside a computer to make money from him, using the people who live in that world. He's dearly missing his son, and if you don't feed him, he suffers from hunger and could even die from neglect.

You don't know how to tell him that even if you break him out of the computer, he won't actually be free.

But he's been existing in that reality for as long as he's designed to remember, so what right do you have to decide that your world is any more real than his? Maybe his world is better than yours. It's admittedly the home of people who would use a hammer on a person to make a quick buck, but since you've liberated him from his roadside post, he shouldn't be subjected to that anymore. Besides, you're fairly sure the people in your world would do that as well.

The simulation is powerful. You've woken up before with sore fingers from clicking, so if anyone hurt you there, you've no doubt it would translate. For that reason, you can't take any risks with Eun-Mi. Harvey's likely not wrong about how she'll react to you, and if you end up at the bloodmoney booth offering up dollars in exchange for pain, it could very well get you killed. Theoretically, you could reverse the polarity of her machine and bring Harvey back out of the virtual world, but that would require being able to use it without interference.

When you went for your walk inside the simulation, you had a look at the city where you live in the game. It's huge. Unless you manage to get Eun-Mi's address, you can't even begin to find her house, let alone visit. Of course, Harvey will have an address, but he's not going to share that with you now he knows your intentions, and you couldn't ask for it without him getting suspicious of them anyway.

It's a non-starter, you're at an impasse.

Either you convince him to give you an address, find Eun-Mi's machine and pray you don't end up at the active end, or you live in the simulation until something goes wrong with the in-game computer and you lose him. Neither sound like particularly good options, but at least the former has a chance of success.

You don't really do much with your day, short of keeping your own needs filled and planning your case for when you get the opportunity to present it. With how he reacted last night, you're not sure that Harvey will be receptive to the idea, but you're compiling a list of points to sway his decision. At some point, you need to tell him about the reality of the situation, but not yet. He's got enough to worry about, you're not about to add more.

Eventually, night descends, and after finalising every step of your plan, you put the headset back on and fall asleep.

Chapter Text

You yawn softly, stretch, and open your eyes. The room is lit by an unseen source as usual, and soothing pastels meet your view as your vision comes into focus. After pushing the covers away, you climb out of bed and drag yourself towards the computer, carefully rubbing sleep from your lashes.

The monitor illuminates as you approach, causing you to stop in your tracks.

Harvey stands behind your screen, staring you down with iced irises. He's definitely bigger than he was last time you saw him, about the size of your hand now. He's still decorated with pastel colours, but his lines seem sharper, his colours more vibrant, and unlike before, his skin and clothes have shading and depth. His eyes seem more captivating, framed by soft black lashes and lined with perfectly drawn trails of onyx. His hair looks fluffy and slightly shiny, and although you know it possesses the descriptor of 'feels like hay', you still find yourself wanting to touch it.

But presently, you need to address the fact that Harvey's glaring at you as if you woke up this morning with a T-shirt on that insulted his whole family.

"You've been away for a while," Harvey states coolly, placing a hand on the glass. You can see the warmth of his skin creating little pockets of condensation on his side of the pane, and the faint spiral shapes of his fingerprints. "I was starting to wonder if you'd come back at all."

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him. You acknowledge that this is going to be confusing, because as far as he's aware, sleep is when you disappear, not when you arrive. "Harvey, there's something I need to tell you. You might want to sit down."

"I am sat down," Harvey responds, lowering his hand again, and as you lift your gaze from his own, you spot the 'Shop' sign above his head and realise that he's back at his booth. Your entire desktop appears to have become his new home, and you get the feeling that if he stands up, he'll bang his head on the top of your monitor. It makes you question if he had to crawl to fit in this space to begin with, or if he set everything up and then resized himself. Which is not something you knew he could do, but you're learning.

"Ah."

You make your way to the computer chair and sink into it. For the first time since you met him, you actually feel uneasy in Harvey's presence. Maybe it's because he's filling your screen instead of being a little chibi-like animation that wandered freely and could be relocated with your cursor. Maybe it's because he turned on your monitor from the inside when he heard you approach. You want to check inside the shop to see what's there, but it would be rude to just start investigating the interface without addressing him directly.

"You've grown," you say conversationally. "Your image is more detailed too. It's a good look for you."

"Image," Harvey repeats in a clipped tone, bypassing your compliment. "Why not picture? Why not sprite? Let's get really technical and go with PNG."

"Harvey-"

"I'm in a game!" he snaps, cutting you off. "Not because of Eun-Mi, but because one of your kind decided to create this world. I thought it was bad enough that after ten years of marriage, my wife put me in a simulation for money-accumulating torture, but no. It goes further than that. Does she even exist? Do I even exist? Am I just a concept to entertain you? What sick, twisted individual saw fit to create a man and fabricate a life and family simply in order to fuck with him?!"

Damn.

You left it too late, he found out on his own.

"You were never meant to be alive!" you counter quickly.

Harvey's expression darkens, and you watch his jaw shift in a way that suggests he's gritting his teeth. That perhaps wasn't the best thing to say.

"What I mean," you continue with such haste that you nearly fall over your words, "is that your creator didn't expect you to have sentience. Nobody would hurt you if they knew. You're meant to be a coded entity, an image and some audio lines that follow a script. That's why your dialogue is repetitive, that's why no matter how many people play your game, it has the same three endings."

"If you truly believe that," Harvey seethes, "then why did you stay with the feather? If the whole point of this game is to hurt me, why did you play it with the intention to do anything but? If I'm just pixels and voice files, why couldn't you bring yourself to even try the needle?"

"It's just the way I am," you state firmly, trying to push the tremble out of your voice. "I treat people in games the way I'd treat them in reality. I don't want to blur the lines. I wouldn't go up to a stranger by the roadside and start poking him with a needle in real life, so I'm not going to do it in a game."

"But others would?" Harvey levels you with a look that suggests lying to him would be a bad idea.

"Others have," you respond with a shiver. "Your creator conceptualised your story as a horror game. To the average person, what happens to you evokes a horrified response. There are some who might enjoy inflicting pain on others, and maybe they'll do it for real, but the two things aren't connected. If someone is so bad as to harm another living being, they're going to do so in physical form, not through a clicker-based simulation."

"But I'm in here!" Harvey snarls. "All those reviews we saw, saying that I'd gone missing, were they just from this world? Do I still exist in your world's version?"

You don't answer that. Of course he does. You're not so powerful as to be able to remove him from the game in reality, that would be insane. Plus, people would be angry with you.

"You're the only version of you that's alive," you say instead. "Every other version shows no hint of being anything except a coded program."

"Then..." Harvey threads his fingers and rests his nose on them, hiding half of his face from sight. "Why am I the exception?"

"I don't know," you admit quietly. "I only know that you are because I'm wearing black market technology which allows me to enter your world and interact with you directly."

"And even directly, I'm on a screen," Harvey states flatly. "My entire existence consists of being trapped in a simulation. If you get me out of here, I'll be able to go back to my fake wife and my fake son and live a fake life where every job rejects me because I'm just that kind of man that nobody likes or wants."

His eyes drift shut, a heavy sigh leaving his body. You watch it mist the pane before it fades again.

"I like you," you murmur.

Harvey's head lifts, and he stares at you in disbelief. He looks utterly lost, like a child realising that their parent has left a store and forgotten to collect them first. As if the world is immense and overwhelming and all he wants to do is curl up and hide.

"Why?" he whispers. "What good am I to anyone?"

"You're only feeling this way because nobody appreciates you," you tell him gently. "But I do. I want to see you safe, I want to see you happy. I want to go beyond taking you out of the screen in this world, and bring you into mine. I don't know how, but that's my goal."

There's a soft splash as a droplet hits the booth. Harvey stares at you with watery eyes, tears freely descending his face in little rivulets. You use the cursor, which is so tiny now compared to him, and carefully wipe them away. He sniffs, then puts his hand on the screen again, desperately seeking a connection. You put your fingertips on his hand, and he gives you a shaky smile.

"Gosh, I wish I could feel your touch," he mutters, curling his fingers as if trying to take yours, the skin pressing against the glass.

"I'm working on it," you say weakly, quite drained from the emotional whiplash. "Are you okay, though? I'll need to leave soon, but I'll be back after work."

"I'll be fine," he reassures you, straightening up and lowering his hand again before reaching behind the shop sign and pulling something down.

You laugh when you see it, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. It's a grooming kit, complete with a comb, some hair gel, bleaching shampoo and a bottle of pink hair dye.

"Guess that's you occupied for the next twenty-four hours," you tease, sitting back in your chair and feeling the tension ease from your body.

"You know it." Harvey grins. "I've gotta work on my looks if I want to stun my honey-bun."

Shaking your head good-naturedly, you get up from the chair and give Harvey a little wave before making your way over to the bed. It feels as if a weight has been lifted, and as he presses two fingers to his temple and gives you a playful salute, you start drifting off to sleep with a smile on your face.

Chapter Text

"Good morning, darling!" Harvey greets you cheerfully as you arrive in front of the monitor. "Ready for another day of simulated life?"

You feel a frown tug at your lips as Harvey gives you a line that you know he'd use on Eun-Mi in Bloodmoney 2. It doesn't sit right with you, but it's not his fault. Still, it feels like he's giving up. Accepting. Settling. You don't like that. As much as you hated seeing him upset at the realisation of his fabrication, you enjoyed the fire that fuelled his desire to escape.

"I'm hoping it won't be simulated much longer," you tell him. "I've been thinking about how to transfer you from this world to mine, and I think the computer is the key here."

"If I leave this world," Harvey regards you with evident hesitancy, "will I ever see Toby again?"

You swallow as he asks the exact question you were hoping to avoid. The basic answer is that, no, he won't. Toby isn't real, and honestly, seeing his father in person might change that, and then you'd have to deal with a sentient child in a game as well. A sentient child with a mother who, in the game's own description, has a heart of ice. But to Harvey, that's his son. His own flesh and blood. It's not something you haven't considered. You've lost sleep over it, part of the reason it took you so long to return, and you still don't have a response that won't evoke pain.

"As far as Toby's concerned," you begin carefully, "you have two choices. Shatter the glass, effectively breaking the barrier that traps you, and leave. Or, come to my world and I'll figure out how to extract you from my computer. It may be more complicated in my world, but we know that in yours, smashing the screen from the inside is possible."

"We do?" Harvey asks, looking at his hands in disbelief. "I'd never think I could get so angry that I'd even fracture glass, let alone shatter it. Do I use the hammer or something? Is that where you got the idea from?"

As much as you'd like to tell him yes, you promised yourself that you wouldn't lie to him.

"No," you say reluctantly. "In the sequel to your game, Eun-Mi's game, you confront her about what she's done to you. After one of your torture sessions, you wake up injured. It gets worse and worse, until you're physically disfigured and her promises to fix you just aren't believable anymore. In your desperation, you try to escape. You pound your fists against the screen of the device that she's storing you on, and you crack the glass. Despair overwhelms you before you can actually smash it, so you opt to delete yourself from Eun-Mi's files to stop her from hurting you any further."

Harvey listens to you in silence, his expression unreadable. You search his eyes for any kind of emotion, a sign if you should stop or continue, but they give you no clues.

"I hope it scares her," he says at last, his voice soft and low, eyes flashing dangerously, and lips pulling into a smirk. "I hope the guilt tears her apart."

You're about to point out that Eun-Mi was designed specifically for the purpose of being the game's creator, and that she had no say in the matter, but you hold that thought. If Harvey could go against his code and make his own choices, perhaps she could as well. He knows her better than you do, you're not qualified to make that kind of assessment. The jury's out on whether she's a wicked widow-to-be or a victim of circumstance, but for now, you leave Harvey to simmer until he calms down.

"If you leave the computer here," you add, as if he hasn't spoken, "then you'll more than likely be unable to go anywhere except this world. You're far easier to transfer as a data file, but once you're in a corporeal form again, not so much."

"So... I either leave here and see Toby again, but I'm trapped in this reality, or I come with you and never see my son again," Harvey clarifies, highlighting the points from your earlier statements that you were trying not to draw attention to.

"Yes..."

"How would I get to your world, anyway?" Harvey seems to delay the question by putting a new one in front of it. "I may be data, but I'm very specific data. How are you planning to upload my entire being to a new device?"

That part is simple enough to answer, and you do so with an air of pride.

"I intend," you state trying to inject professionalism into your voice so it sounds like you know what you're talking about, "to transfer your file onto a memory drive, then take that drive to reality and plug it into my own computer."

"Can you bring things from my world into yours at the moment?" Harvey asks, his voice drenched with curiosity.

"Not right now," you admit sheepishly.

"Can... you bring things from your world into mine?" he tries, clearly aware that you're missing a step, but doing his best not to fall down it.

"Not right now," you repeat. "But I'm planning to run some tests in regards to that. Because if my entire body can enter this world and leave it again, something on my person must be able to do so as well."

You pick up the cup from your bedside table. It's been there since you arrived, empty and decorative.

"I'll see you in a moment," you promise Harvey, then force yourself awake.

As you half expected, when you remove the headset and check around your bed, there's no cup. Not even a suggestion that one was ever there. You pull the headset on again and fall back into your dreams, the all-enveloping darkness acting as a perfect blanket to soothe you back under. 

It isn't long before you're in Harvey's world again, and surprise surprise, the cup is resting on the bed when you appear beneath the covers. This doesn't come as a shock to you, taking hold of something in the virtual world doesn't mean that you can continue holding it in reality. But it's going to be a problem regarding the memory stick, because you need to get that out of the simulated realm. Since there isn't one here by default, you need to get that into the simulated realm first. Unless you can go out and buy one, but that would require money, and you're fairly sure you don't have any here.

"I've never seen you disappear before," Harvey comments, and you glance over to see him watching you from the monitor. "It was unsettling."

"Sorry," you respond noncommittally.

If he knew what you were planning, he'd be more than unsettled, so it's perhaps best that he doesn't get any inkling before you can enact your intentions. He might try and stop you, and even though he can't, you don't want to put him under any more stress than necessary.

"I was worried this would break if it fell," you say casually, picking up the cup again. "It's a good job it landed on the bed."

As you hold up the cup for his inspection, you let it slip from your fingers. Predictably, it smashes on the wooden floor, littering it with shards of china. You hear Harvey gasp, so you give him a sheepish smile.

"Whoops!" You feign a laugh, hoping your nervousness doesn't show through. "Well, now we know. I'll investigate the room and see if there's any way to sweep this up."

"Be careful," Harvey urges worriedly. "You don't want to cut yourself."

Actually, that's exactly what you want to do.

Well, want is a strong word, but it's why you orchestrated this whole thing. For now, you're just testing something, but it's going to escalate unpleasantly if you're correct. Still, that can't be helped. Sometimes, to save the suffering, you have to suffer yourself. 

You pick up the sharpest-looking piece and wince as it slices your finger open, blood trickling down into the grooves of your skin. The pain is so raw and vivid that you jolt awake, yelping as you notice with mixed feelings of triumph and horror, that you're staining up your bedsheets with a steady flow of glistening red.

Experiment successful!

You congratulate yourself as you cradle your injury, racing to fix it up before you make any more of a mess.

Chapter Text

"Oh, there you are!" Harvey greets you with an air of urgency, then shifts to a slightly disapproving tone. "You disappeared again."

"Sorry," you murmur, lurching as you stumble out of bed, feeling nausea lap at the back of your throat. "Cut myself. The cup. Sharp."

"Are you alright?" Harvey regards your feeble state and lack of communication with evident concern, prioritising your health over his emotions.

It's clear you're not doing well, you're swaying from side to side and your face is burning up in a way that suggests you're probably very cold. You faintly remember feeling like this as a child when you caught a fever, growing so hot that you were sweating, yet you believed your skin had turned to ice. It's the body's way of telling you that something's wrong, and you're fully aware of why.

"You cut yourself on the cup?" Harvey echoes, and you hear him inhale sharply. "A cut shouldn't throw you this badly, but... that doesn't matter. Please, sit down before you fall down."

"Can't yet," you mumble, dropping to the floor among the broken shards.

It's by pure luck that you don't kneel on any, and when you find composure again, you'll scold yourself for being so reckless; but for now, you've got one objective and you need to complete it before you pass out or throw up. Maybe both.

You grab a shard that's smooth at the top and sharp at the bottom, then slice through the stitches on your palm and gasp at the mixture of pain and relief.

With an unsettlingly wet splat, the blood-drenched memory stick falls to the floor, its protective case cracking but holding. You grip the bedside table, panting softly as the nausea fades and your breathing returns to normal.

Unfortunately, since you were knelt in front of the bed and so busy trying to ease your suffering that you didn't notice your position, Harvey just saw everything. You realise this as you lift your gaze and find him watching you with a horrified and infuriated expression.

"What the fuck did you just do?" he seethes, making you jump as he pounds his fist on the glass. 

"Harvey—"

"You cut something out of your palm," Harvey interrupts. "It's so bloody that I can't even see what it is. But you clearly had to be in this world to remove it."

You dip your head guiltily. He's got you figured out, you should've known you couldn't hide this from him.

"It's a memory stick," you confess. "I couldn't bring it here unless it was part of me. I tried several things while you were asleep, holding items ranging from large to small, trying to get anything to transfer from my world to yours. I had the memory stick in my mouth at one point, had to keep my head forward so I wouldn't choke. Nothing worked. But I know that my entire body comes here and that goes for any injuries. They transfer."

Harvey swallows thickly. You can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain as he pieces it together, laser-focused on you and your wounded hand.

"So you cut yourself open?" he whispers. "You put that thing inside your wound and stitched it shut?"

You nod, trying not to gag as you remember the searing pain. How much you wanted to cry out, but you knew that people would ask questions if they heard.

You told yourself at the time that Harvey had been through worse. You could handle a few needle pricks, and he'd taken multiple stabbings and survived, so what was a single slice?

What you didn't factor was that putting a foreign object beneath your skin was going to make you feel very ill. By the time you'd tied off the stitch with shaking hands and carefully guided the headset on, you were already starting to react.

When you arrived, you felt so sick that you nearly blacked out from the sheer force of your body going into shock. The experience definitely wasn't good for you.

"You're unbelievable," Harvey mutters, and you can't tell if he's angry or impressed. "You're insane."

"I'm in pain," you correct jokingly, trying to get a smile out of him. 

You fail.

"You brought a memory drive from your world in order to transfer me," he states slowly. "You put yourself through all of that suffering in order to..."

He trails off, shaking his head in what you interpret as disbelief.

"I'm not worth it," he manages after a moment of heavy silence. "I'm not worth any of this."

"Harvey." You give him a sharp look, one which seems to give him clarity. "I'm not bleeding on the floor for no reason, nor have I taken leave of my senses. This is my choice. If you feel bad about it, you can look after me once I get you out of here."

"But I didn't even decide!" Harvey puts both palms on the screen, a soft pink curl falling over his left eye and resting on his lashes. "What if you've put yourself through all this and I decide I want to go back to Toby?"

"Then I'll visit you whenever I can," you tell him, plucking the memory stick from the floor, grimacing at how gooey it is, then placing it on the bedside table. "But for now, the offer is there."

You know that realistically, you're going to get an infection if you're not careful. You need tetanus shots, proper stitches, medical attention, that sort of thing.

"You're insane..." Harvey repeats, his breath steaming the inside of the screen as he stares at you through the glass.

He contemplates the situation for a moment longer, then snaps himself out of his thoughts.

"Look, don't worry about me for now," he states softly. "I'm not the one whose next stop should be a hospital. Get yourself fixed up and come back when you're recovered. Physically and mentally. I'll have an answer for you then, I promise."

You give him a tired smile and a little wave with your non-bloodied hand, then force yourself awake.

Chapter Text

With a heavy sigh, you push your door open, lock it again on the other side, toss your keys on the sideboard and slump into your couch. Luckily, nobody asked about the wound in your hand, because accidents happen, but it still wasn't fun having to have stitches or tetanus injections. You said you'd fallen in your yard, thrown your hands down to catch yourself, caught a shard of glass beneath your palm. Just enough information to get the right treatments.

If only the rules were simpler. It would've been so much easier to just sew the memory stick into your pocket. No blood, no fuss, no threat of infection. But the simulation doesn't work like that. As soon as you leave your world, you're dressed in the 'player's' clothes. A purple jacket, light blue jeans, a hat which you took off when you arrived and now it stares accusingly at you from the nightstand, and a bag which matches your jeans and contains nothing.

Absentmindedly, you rub at the little patch on your skin where you had a mild reaction to the adhesive of the tape. Taping the memory drive to yourself was another idea you had, only to be disappointed when you arrived and found your hand still taped but the memory drive gone. It was then that you realised how it worked. You only passed into Harvey's world in body and mind. No clothes, no accessories. For something to come with you, it has to be part of you. You tried the middle ground, painstakingly weaving threads through your skin until you looked like a sewing project gone wrong, and when you arrived, the stitches lay slack and empty. The open wound hurt the most. As you pressed the little plastic case into it and tied it shut, you found yourself wondering if it was even possible to transfer items from one world to another.

So once you arrived in Harvey's world and cut the stitches, and that memory drive fell, you wanted to sob with relief for several reasons. One, the pain. You never want to experience anything like that again, but upsettingly, you have to in order to get the drive back to your world again. Two, it worked. You successfully managed to perform a task you'd been starting to believe was impossible.

You begin wondering if Harvey's made his decision yet. It's possible that seeing what you're willing to go through for his liberation has had an effect on it. When you hear his choice, you want to ensure that he's making it for the right reasons. If it's to protect you, you're not accepting that. But it's potentially life-changing and you refuse to rush him. He needs time to make a balanced and logical argument for both sides before picking one.

With a yawn, you drag yourself to your bedroom, grab the headset and pull it on. You sink into your pillow and close your eyes, and it isn't long before your simulated room comes into view.

Harvey wastes no time with a greeting, his voice meeting your ears before you even have time to adjust to your changed surroundings.

"Oh! You're here, good." He beckons you towards the monitor, and you sit on the computer chair expectantly. "There's something that needs your attention," he states urgently. "Some kind of popup. I've tried interacting with it from my side, but I can't get it to go away."

You scan the screen and locate the popup, feeling your chest tighten.

+-----------------+

| UPDATE REQUIRED |

|                 |

| [OK]   [CANCEL] |

+-----------------+

With growing dread, you mouse over to the cancel button and click it.
It's greyed out, but you click it anyway. 

Nothing.

"What does it mean?" Harvey asks, probably noticing that you look rather green around the gills. "Is it bad?"

"It means that the computer is going to update," you respond thickly. "These kinds of messages can be pushed back usually. You can ask the system to remind you in twenty-four hours or less. But it seems that this particular one is inevitable. It doesn't usually erase any data, but it... closes all running programs."

"Oh." Harvey deciphers your meaning before you even attempt to rationalise how to explain it to him. "I'm a running program," he states flatly.

You nod, numbly.

Everything you've done, all the progress you've made, and the computer could potentially reset Harvey, or worse, erase him.

+-------------------------------------+

|Your PC will restart in 5 minutes.   |

|Please ensure all your work is saved.|

+-------------------------------------+

Five minutes.

Damn it!

You're almost out of time, and if you hadn't got here when you did then...
No, there's no point in thinking about that now.

You did get here in time, that's what matters.

Racing over to the bedside table, you grab the memory drive, wrench it from where it's stuck to the wood, and pop off the cap as you run back to the computer.

"I didn't want to rush you," you chatter as you drop to your knees and search the tower unit for a port, "but I don't think we have time to break you out of here anymore, and I'm sorr-"

"I want to come with you," Harvey interrupts. "I have the hammer, I could've smashed the screen on my own. I waited for you."

You find the port and push the data drive into it, feeling your heart pound in your ears as the light begins to flash on it.

Red.
Not registering. 

With trembling fingers, you yank it out, blow on it, then shove it back in and stare at it in desperation.

The light turns green for a split second...

Then the screen goes black.

Chapter Text

You cradle the memory drive in your bloodied hands, staring down at it as panic rises within you. Crimson spatters mark the path where you tore across the room, some pressed into footprints. You're not sure when you ripped your stitches, but the pain is a dull twinge in comparison to the anguish that's coiled around your heart and constricting steadily with each shallow breath.

He can't be gone.

You did everything you could.

You suffered for his safety, made this room his sanctuary.

It used to be a place of pastels, but with your cruor decorating the floor, it looks more like the site of a massacre. 

Before you can sink too deep into your rumination, the lights begin to flicker in warning. You forgot for a moment that the computer you're knelt in front of, isn't the only one which exists. If a reset is affecting the internals, it won't be long before the externals are wiped too. Your simulated haven looks so eerie bathed in shadows, glistening pools of blood lit by the faint lumen that remains. You can hear Harvey's voice in your head, urging you to flee before everything shuts down, but you're not processing properly at present. It's only when the lights cut completely and drench you in darkness that your desire for self-preservation kicks in. You hear the whirring of the fans as the temperature rises, the air growing thick and stifling, creeping into your throat and burning your nostrils. Your computer always heats up when it's using a lot of processing power, just before it turns off. You know you don't have long left.

Swallowing a yelp, you jam the memory drive into your wound, tug the remaining stitches in a desperate attempt to draw them shut around it, then try to force yourself awake.

Coughing and gasping, you open your eyes to a black screen inside the lenses of the headset. You rip the headset off and lift your hand into view, still spluttering and retching as you stare at the wound through blurred vision. Among the haze of red, a strip of black stands out, barely held in place by a couple of threads. You close your fingers around it, feeling the reassuring solidity, and wince at the sudden stinging pain. You didn't think fresh agony was possible, but it feels as if you've cut your flesh open all over again. You may need a different hospital, nobody's going to believe the glass story twice, but that's not currently your priority.

With trembling hands, you carry the drive over to your computer. The screen is currently occupied with update progress, and although it's 95% done, you stare at the swirling circle as if it's spinning your innards instead of a few harmless pixels.

Are you a murderer? 

Is it really Harvey's blood on your hands?

When the update completes, you barely find enough stability to type. You fumble your log-in details twice, then manage to access your account on the third attempt. Your palms begin to sweat, which definitely doesn't help the situation, and you faintly register that if you were composed, you'd be horrified by the smears of gore on your mouse and keyboard. For now, you locate the USB port and pour it out of its case, then push it in with the fingers crossed on your other hand.

You don't know what you're expecting, so when the drive illuminates in soft green, you laugh with scarcely repressed mania. You never thought that something as simple as an LED on a data stick would ignite hope in you, or that you'd feel such intense torrents of emotion towards a character who once stood inanimate, but your heart is pounding against your ribs like it intends to break through and run circuits.

The light goes off, and you lift your gaze to the screen.

Nothing.

Where. Is. He?!

You're not sure how long passes, but eventually, you start to feel lightheaded and nauseated by the effects of the untreated wound.

You drag yourself out of your chair and amble towards the bathroom, further staining your surfaces as you clamour around for the first aid kit. Once you find it, you snap the lid open and grab the roll of bandages, winding it around your hand in a spiral of repeating strips. This only stops when you reach the end, so thankfully, there wasn't a whole one to use. You catch your reflection in the mirror as you lift your head, and you're not sure you recognise yourself. Is that you? There was light in your eyes once; but it seems to have been snuffed out.

THUNK!

A sudden sound startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. You look around the bathroom for something to defend yourself with, then resort to grabbing the toilet brush. It's brand new and you only took it out of its packaging this morning, so you have no problem wielding it like a weapon. It's better than nothing, anyway.

CRASH!

Swallowing hard, you leave the bathroom and advance towards your bedroom, the tinkling of glass faintly audible. Did someone break into your house just to smash your belongings? That's not very nice of them. Maybe you can hide the brush handle under your jacket and pretend it's a gun? You don't think the idea of a bristling is going to scare off someone with enough malice to start trashing the place, but you don't have time to grab anything else right now. A glance at your front door tells you it's undamaged, which is strange. Did the intruder come in through the window, then?

Hesitantly, you inch the door open, then charge inside like a soldier who's just been given battle orders, your toilet brush poised and expression as threatening as you can manage.

"Well," a warm voice states, accompanied by a twinkling pair of ice blue irises. "It's not what I was expecting, but I've had worse."

The 'weapon' falls from your fingers, tears spilling before you can even register that they've formed, and you stare in stunned silence at the speaker. You reach out a shaking hand, and gentle fingertips meet your own. The distance closes and you find a palm pressed against yours. As naturally as breathing, the speaker's fingers glide between, descending until they rest comfortably atop your knuckles. You feel your own fingers lower, embracing the gesture, and as you blink in an attempt to counter your watery eyes, something soft brushes against your cheek and wipes the droplet of emotion away.

A careful hand lifts your chin, and you take in every detail of the speaker's face in total clarity. The way his silken lashes flutter in delicate curls. The way his eyebrows elevate just a fraction, forming a reassuring expression. The way his lips part with every breath, and he inhales just a little more deeply before verbalising.

"Hey there," he greets you, a beautiful smile meeting his eyes and making them sparkle. "My name is Harvey Harvington."

Chapter Text

You don't remember fainting.

When you open your eyes, the ceiling stretches out above you in soft white, and you feel the comfortable padding of the sofa beneath your body, so it isn't hard to draw the conclusion that you're lying down. But you don't have any recollection of what happened prior. You saw Harvey, you burst into tears, and then... you woke up.

Wait.

You're not in the headset still, are you?

Surely you didn't dream all of that! Your mind wouldn't be so cruel-

Hastily, you reach up to grab the possibly-present headset, and give a small yelp as you accidentally punch yourself in the face.

"Hey!" Harvey's voice comes immediately, and you feel warm fingers constrict around your wrist, guiding it back to where it previously rested. "Take it easy, you might still be in shock."

"You're here," you murmur, relief flooding your mind. "I thought I dreamed you."

"If you did," Harvey lifts your bandaged hand and holds it in front of you like a dog owner would with a chewed item, "then you're very destructive in your sleep."

"Did you smash my computer?" you ask, suddenly feeling a bolt of clarity and trying to sit up. "Did you have to crawl through the screen? Are you okay?"

You feel a gentle pressure on your chest as Harvey pushes you back down, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, yes, and yes," he confirms. "I've got a few scratches, nothing major. I'm not the one who came charging in with a poised toilet brush and then tried to headbutt the floor."

"I thought you were an intruder," you mumble sheepishly.

"I am," he replies with a grin, and you can already guess what he's going to say.

"No..."

"I came in through the computer."

Groaning quietly, you resist the urge to shove him. Your brain isn't processing at a high enough level for puns right now, if he doesn't refrain then you're putting him back in the simulation.

"Sorry."

He doesn't look sorry. His eyes are sparkling with mischief and you get the feeling that he's been waiting to unleash this side of himself since you met him.

"I brought you some water," he adds, lifting a glass from the side table and holding it out to you. "You might be dehydrated. I hope this doesn't come across as presumptuous, but... have you been looking after yourself?"

"Because you presume I haven't?"

You accept the glass and take a sip. Swallowing is difficult and your throat feels far too dry.

"You cut your hand open and sewed a piece of possibly contaminated plastic into the wound," he states flatly. "You tore your stitches and bled all over the floor in my reality, and the bedsheets in yours. You only left the simulation to go to work, I never heard any mention of you planning to eat or drink. Your idea of tending to said wound was to mummify it, and seconds after meeting me, you blacked out and would've injured yourself yet again if I hadn't caught you."

"You're very observant for someone that's just entered my world," you mutter, averting your gaze.

Yes, you were aware that you've been neglecting your health, but it feels like a targeted attack when he points it out.

"You can't do that," he scolds, giving you a serious look. "Prioritising someone else's life over yours is a sure fire way to burn yourself out."

"But you were trapped," you protest weakly, "and the update was inevitable... if it'd happened while I was away, then..."

"Shh."

Harvey presses a finger to your lips and you startle. Part of you wants to bite it. You decide to check in with that part later and ask it why it feels this way.

"It didn't, though," he soothes. "We made it out. I really appreciate your attentiveness and your care, but you need to focus on yourself now."

He seems to realise that the gesture is flustering you and withdraws his finger, but you swear you see him smirk as he does so.

"Why don't I make us something to eat?" he offers, and you briefly wonder if he's seen the empty ramen packets in the bin. "What do you fancy?"

"Dunno," you respond noncommittally, slightly reproachful that he's managed to reduce your entire vocabulary to a single word by merely touching you.

"It ain't rocket science, honeybun," he teases, absolutely aware that your shy state is his fault. "Come on, try me. I can make pretty much anything. I'm a good cook, just ask To-"

His smile falls.

You wondered how long it would take him to come back to that. To the fact that he's been ripped out of his own life. To you, he was a person trapped in a game. To him, he was a perfectly functional human in a happy marriage with a loving wife and son. At least, until his loving wife uploaded him to the internet for, well, blood money. But even if he's come to terms with what he is, or rather, was, that doesn't make his virtual life any less authentic. As far as you're aware, he still lived it.

"I used to make him pancakes for breakfast on Fridays," he says softly. "Smiley face ones. Blueberries for the eyes, a sliced strawberry for the nose and a whipped cream hairstyle. The mouth was either a drizzle of chocolate sauce, maple syrup, or honey. It depended on how he was feeling. We liked Fridays because it meant I'd be home during the weekend. I was always trying to get a new job in order to support us, it seemed like no matter how much income I acquired, it was gone before the dawn of a new day."

Harvey sighs heavily, the cogs turning in his mind. You know Eun-Mi was in immense debt so it makes sense that Harvey's wage wouldn't make a difference, but until now, you're not sure if he did.

"It was never going to be enough, was it?" he asks wearily. "If she made twenty-five thousand dollars from me in a day and still sent me out again, she was in deeper trouble than I knew. But she could've told me, she could've explained that!"

His sudden elevation in volume seems to surprise you both. He gives you an apologetic look and exhales slowly.

"I wonder if... that's why she took me on. If she loved me at all. Maybe I was a means to an end, maybe I was supposed to pull her out of the water and I wasn't strong enough. Maybe-"

You take Harvey's hand, causing him to cut himself off and look at you.

"You're going to drive yourself mad with questions like that," you tell him sympathetically. "I'm sure you'd have been strong enough to pull her out of the water if she hadn't trapped herself beneath a layer of ice."

Although you're aware of the venom seeping into your voice, you don't bother trying to curb it. You have nothing but loathing for that woman, whatever her motives may be.

"Toby's still with her," he whispers, tears beading in his eyes. "I shouldn't have left him. I'm a terrible father. I'm a terrible person."

"Harvey!"

You grab his other hand, injecting a sharp tone to make sure your words can bore deeply enough into his mind that he understands them. 

"You. Did. Nothing. Wrong."

A sudden crackle somewhere in the house draws you out of your focused state, and you put a pause on the talk you've scheduled. Frowning in confusion, you get up from the sofa, pass by a slightly bewildered Harvey, and track the source of the sound. There's silence for a moment, then it happens again. Closer, this time. Your eyes narrow and you make your way to your room, emitting a noise of panic as you realise that the crackling is coming from your headset and it doesn't sound healthy. Smoke seems to be rising from the chassis in little wisps, and your sheets appear slightly singed beneath where it rests.

"Damn it..."

Well, that's what you get for buying black market tech, you suppose. You want to snatch the headset up before it can do anything more catastrophic, like set your bed on fire, but you're not going near it while it's hissing and smoking like that. While you're frozen in the doorway, wondering how you're supposed to combat this new and unfortunate situation, you feel Harvey's breath against the back of your neck and he makes himself known behind you.

"Is that the headset?" he asks, peering over your shoulder.

"Yep," you respond dryly. "I'm not sure how much longer it'll identify as one."

"At least it worked while you needed it," he attempts, clearly trying to comfort you. 

"Right," you agree, closing the door as the sounds of malfunction grow louder. "I just hope it doesn't do anything devastating like explo-"

Chapter Text

"Ngh."

You shift uncomfortably as you let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a wince. It feels like you're enveloped in pain, as if every joint you possess has splintered into sharp fragments of bone and decided to tear at your flesh from the inside. Needing to assess the damage, you carefully sit up, finding rather large lacerations along your arms and legs. You're wounded in such a way that you draw the following conclusion; whatever caused these injuries should still be buried inside you. 

But it isn't, and this is what alerts you to your second realisation.

You're not in your own world anymore.

"The door," you murmur weakly to yourself, gingerly tracing your fingers along your skin to try and check for splinters. Luckily, you don't locate any, but considering how the transfer works, you can't guarantee that they're not deeper down. The last thing you remember before the blinding flood of light was the door breaking into pieces. Wooden fragments slashing at your limbs as you desperately tried to shield-

"Harvey?"

Ignoring your pain, you drag yourself to your feet, looking around for him. Your surroundings are pastel, but you're definitely outside. The sky is a gentle shade of blue, the road beneath your shoes is snowy white, and the nearby grass is a rather lovely pink. You'd compare the natural strands to the cotton candy pink of Harvey's hair, but you know from external information that he dyes it that way, so it hardly seems the same. 

However, on closer inspection, you find a mound of said grass that seems to be elevated in contrast to the rest of the perfectly level blades. You limp over to investigate, and to your horror, a body lays inert and the mound reveals itself to be a mass of coiled hair.

"Harvey!"

You kneel and take the body by the shoulders, giving it a rather firm shake. Unlike you, he has no visible injuries, so you don't know what's causing his unmoving state. It couldn't be that somehow, in that last moment as it exploded, the headset returned him to his former condition, could it? That despite your best efforts, he was always meant to die?

"Harvey Harman Harvington!" you snap, desperation causing your voice to break. "You'd better open your eyes right now!"

After what feels like a lifetime, his lips part, eyes fluttering open, and his pupils contract as the light meets them. He blinks twice, then regards you with evident confusion.

"Hey there," he murmurs. "Welcome to my... booth?"

"...You'd better be messing with me," you warn, your voice descending into a growl.

If he's lost his memories of you and you're stuck in his world, you don't think you can bear it. It took so much to get him out, yet your stupid black market tech just had to malfunction, and rather than simply wounding you with the shrapnel, it opted to drag you into Bloodmoney's universe completely and imprison him once again.

It's subtle, but you see his mouth quiver as recognition flickers across his face. You remain completely still, your focus unwavering, and his lips pull into a smile, that familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. His hand lifts, palm coming to rest against your cheek, and he tips his head gently.

"It's you," he breathes, his tone soft and soaked with adoration. "I was worried I'd lost you."

"You were worried?" you huff, still feeling annoyed despite your relief. "I'm not the one laying in the grass like a corpse."

"I think... I died," Harvey muses, as if it's the most normal thing he's contemplated today.

His gaze travels down, and you instinctively reach for his jacket, pulling it open. His shirt buttons have broken, revealing a few sculpted lines, but more disturbingly, there's a bullet-shaped scar above his heart. Once which fades completely before your eyes.

"Someone shot you," you state in an anguish-drenched voice. "That's your bad ending, that's the worst outcome."

"But I healed, right?" Harvey takes your trembling hand in his. "There's no blood, the wound's gone, I'm still alive."

You look behind Harvey, seeing something that confirms your worst fears. You suspected it when you saw him in that state, you recognised the scene but refused to acknowledge why until now.

Closing your fingers around Harvey's own, you start to hoist him up from the ground, supporting him as best you can, but when your knees remind you how weak they are, you lean heavily on the nearby support.

The booth.

You hadn't realised it was there at first because you'd come at it from a different angle, arrived several feet away and taken a weaving path while searching the grass. You hadn't been looking, so you hadn't found it.

But although it holds your weight and allows you to stabilise, moments before you fall into Harvey's waiting arms, it also represents a dreadful fact.

"Harvey... We're in Eun-Mi's simulation."

Chapter Text

"We're in Bloodmoney?" Harvey clarifies in disbelief, as if you needed it making any clearer. 

You're stood behind the booth where he got shot. Someone put a bullet in him despite being given all the money he had. If that doesn't tell him where he is, nothing will. But interestingly, despite being in Eun-Mi's simulation, Harvey didn't die. Or at the very least, didn't stay dead. He mustn't have woken up either, or he wouldn't still be by your side. Something has gone wrong, or in your case, right, and the simulation isn't working as it should.

Unfortunately, you know that Eun-Mi is prone to destructive tendencies when things don't go her way.

"We are," you respond thoughtfully, "and I think it's already breaking."

"Is that bad?" Harvey leans against the booth, watching you with an unreadable expression. Despite having bleached and dyed his hair fairly recently, you can see black roots peeking through at his scalp. There are also dark circles beneath his eyes, the stress of the situation clearly taking a toll on him. "Are we safe?"

"Maybe." You're aware that you're either responding to one or both of the questions, but you can't answer honestly if you don't know the truth. "I think I have a way to find out."

Harvey's features harden and he plants his hands on your shoulders with such unexpected speed and force that you audibly gasp. You can feel the shapes of his fingers against your skin, not applying enough pressure to inflict pain, but certainly to keep you pinned in place.

"No," he states firmly, his brows furrowing and lips pulling into a tight line as he stares you down. "Absolutely not."

"You don't know what I was going to suggest," you say meekly.

"I can guess," he mutters darkly, a strand of pink falling over his left eye and visually slicing it in half as he leans closer. "You're thinking about taking my place and confronting Eun-Mi directly."

You blink innocently, trying your absolute best to display an expression of anything but surprise at how good he is at reading you.

"Thought so," he concludes in a wry tone.

"Well we can't let you go back there," you counter stubbornly. "She'll just feed you, play some oddly-brutal games with you and then send you back here for another round. The world might reset, you might get another player. You might die for good this time."

"And you might end up in the booth," he protests, letting go of your shoulders before spinning you around and pulling you against his chest, head resting on your shoulder as he faces you towards the stall and speaks against your ear in a falsely sweet tone. "Hi there! I'm a self-sacrificing person who deserves to be protected! Each time you hurt me, I'll give you a dollar! I always say pain is a path towards corruption! Believe in it enough and you might even kill someone for that sweet payout."

You squirm against him, closing your eyes as if that's going to stop his words from boring into your brain. You want to cover your ears but your hands are trapped by your sides by his inescapable embrace. You feel safe, yet threatened. Captured, yet comfortable. It's a very strange and jarring conflict of perceptions.

"I'm not self-sacrificing," you murmur begrudgingly, and his fingers dive down to seize your bandaged hand before holding it in front of you by the wrist.

Admittedly, you went a bit heavy on the gauze. Your hand looks more like a paw, wound so many times in white that it's almost cartoonesque. If you do manage to convince Harvey to let you face Eun-Mi, you'll have to remove that first because you don't want her knowing that you have weaknesses.

"Okay," you relent. "I see your point."

He releases you from his hold and goes to lean against the booth again, averting his gaze. It doesn't feel like a victory for either of you, and as much as you disliked his imitation of you and how he ensured you couldn't recoil from the truth it held, you miss his warmth immediately.

To distract yourself, you unwind the bandages, grimacing slightly at the stained layers as you get closer to revealing the wound. But when you peel back the final strip, you find your hand completely unmarked. There isn't even a suggestion of the cut you made or the stitches you had. This yields some intriguing information. Not only does Harvey reset after injury, it appears that you do as well.

What's unclear is whether that's Eun-Mi's doing, or your own. You may be changing the rules of the code just by being here, or you may be forcibly adhering to them. You'd know better if you could actually talk with her, but Harvey's not wrong about the dangers of doing so.

Your stomach growls and jolts you out of your musings, causing Harvey to look up in surprise, then give you a slightly amused look. But it fades as his dismay sets back in, the gravity of the situation too heavy to ignore.

"I didn't even get to cook for you," he complains, lifting a shoe and scuffing it on the grassy floor. "She ruins everything."

As much as you want to stay silent to keep the peace, you can't resist taking the opportunity to try and convince Harvey again. It's a new angle, maybe he'll allow your persuasion this time.

"She's our only source of food," you tell him gently. "Her version of the simulation has bread and cake and things. What if I just drop in to steal the fridge? I can appear on her screen when she's not there, grab the good stuff and put myself to bed before she even notices."

Harvey's head lifts and he meets your gaze. You prepare for his rebuttal but it doesn't come, his expression soft as he opens his arms to invite you in. After a moment's hesitation, you return to his embrace and he drops a kiss on your temple.

"Please be careful," he whispers, his arms held loosely around your back so you can break out of them easily if you desire to. "I know you want to fix things, but she could destroy you. You've already done so much for me, gone through so much pain and suffering, and I just want to keep you safe."

"I know you do," you breathe, wrapping your arms around him in return. "I promise I won't do anything reckless."

As far as you're concerned, reckless would be trying to break out of Eun-Mi's screen and choke her, so simply initiating a conversation is nowhere near that level. 

Your words soothe Harvey, and you feel him smile as he rests his chin on your shoulder. It brings you a little comfort as well, you suppose. You're not lying to him, just omitting the truth. If things turn dire, you can always pounce the sleep icon and escape, so he shouldn't be worrying about you anyway. You'll be fine, you always are.

Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, you'll start to believe it.

"Lay down with me?" you ask shyly. "I don't have much chance of falling asleep while I'm stood up."

Harvey scoops you into his arms then lays you down on the grass, which is surprisingly soft and has a sweet scent that envelops you as you sink into its blades. The fragrance soon mixes with tones of vanilla as he settles beside you, his shoulder meeting yours and sending faint warmth through your skin. You don't believe that night exists here, but as you stare at the sunlit sky, you begin feeling strangely drowsy. The clouds look like swirls of cotton wool, floating merrily overhead without a care in the world, and you conclude that this simulation is rather beautiful when there's nobody around to spoil it.

"Rest well, angel," Harvey murmurs against your ear as you drift into slumber.

Chapter Text

Your eyes drift open, and you bring yourself to clarity, looking around the interface. It's rather minimalistic in comparison to Bloodmoney itself, definitely lending itself to being Tamagotchi-like in aesthetic. The fridge is tiny compared to you, and you could easily grab it and put yourself to bed in theory, but there's no saying how the elements of the simulation will react to your interference. So, you take caution as you reach for the icon. Tentatively, you pry it off the wall like a magnet, making sure you cater to any resistance. But it comes easily, giving a satisfying little clink as you relocate it, the light still glowing merrily inside and giving you a hint of brightness as the door peeks open.

Unfortunately, to perform this particular action, you had to turn your back.

When you look at the screen again, you nearly jump out of your skin. Piercing irises in carousel pink stare right through you, tinted lips tugged into a grimace. You didn't think it possible for a person to radiate hostility, but it emanates in waves so thick that you almost choke on pure hatred.

You're unmistakably in the suffocating presence of Eun-Mi.

"You're not Harvey," she states coldly, reaching out as though to jab you with her perfectly-manicured nail, then lowering her hand instead. "Explain yourself."

If you weren't so busy drowning in her malevolent aura, you might've laughed at how blunt she is. You've met her type before, they barely categorise as human. Empathy is optional and sympathy is weakness. They philosophise that you can't do either without being inferior and there's a reason that both words end in 'pathetic'.

"I used black market technology to immerse myself in your game," you tell her without hesitation. "Upon doing so, I learned that Harvey is a sentient being."

You're expecting some kind of snark or perhaps anger, but Eun-Mi's eyes widen and her expression softens a fraction. Her lips part, revealing a hint of white behind.

"Black market technology?" she repeats in disbelief, her voice lowering a decibel or two. "What's the company name?"

"Ui... something?" you attempt.

You don't recall the exact branding because it never really seemed important to you. You're unsure why it's important to her.

Eun-Mi pales several shades, which is impressive considering her skin is like porcelain to begin with. She takes a breath and composes herself, but she's definitely unnerved. This isn't how you saw this going at all. You thought she'd try to delete you, torment you, maybe even force-feed you. That was half the reason you prioritised the removal of the fridge. Of course, you're glad that the conversation is civilised and not detrimental to any form of your health, but you were expecting a monster in human form and her lack of attack has you a little off-kilter.

"Uitae?" she asks, her gaze burning into yours.

"Yes!" you respond a touch too enthusiastically, stunned that she recognises the name. Your surprise soon turns to suspicion and you give her an accusatory glare. "Why do you know that?"

"They were trialling the software in underground circles," she states, averting her gaze momentarily. "Easy money. All you had to do was put on the headset and you got paid."

"Has there ever been a time you weren't driven by money?" you snipe, wrinkling your nose in disgust. "Enough to kill for it, I mean."

Eun-Mi's eyes flare, the sclerae seeming to glow when exposed to the light, and she grabs the cog icon with her cursor before slamming it into your head with so much force that you see stars. You lurch forward, putting your hand on the screen, unsettlingly aware of a warm, wet substance now dripping steadily down your face.

"I was young," she continues, as if you hadn't spoken. "I'd just left college and the job market wasn't yielding. Uitae laid out the terms and conditions in front of me, told me that I'd get paid for the trial, but I'd be placed within the simulated world. They said that lots of other people would be there too, but they'd lose their memories. I'd be allowed to keep mine."

"Why?" you spit, righting yourself and wiping the blood from your cheek. "What made you so special?"

You're worried for a moment that she's going to strike you again, but a smirk meets her lips and her eyes narrow deviously instead.

"My father owned the company," she responds with a shrug. "He passed his knowledge on to me. Who better to test the inner workings of a software than the daughter of its creator?"

"But it went wrong," you state, almost certain of yourself. "Didn't it?"

Her smirk falters, teeth gritting and causing her jaw to tighten.

"Daddy dearest wasn't watching the competition," she responds acerbically. "He always knew he was in the firing line but didn't think them competent enough to make the shot. He was wrong. One of his underlings gathered all the information they needed and then took him out. They became the new face of the company."

"And with Uitae no longer owned by your father-" you begin, causing her to swiftly cut over you.

"Yes. I became just another avatar in the simulation," she finishes flatly. "They never showed any intention to harm me, but since I'm my father's heir, it would make logical sense to kill me next. So I told them that I wanted out. To return to reality. That I'd leave them to their stupid little project and move somewhere else."

"I bet that went down well," you mutter wryly. 

As Eun-Mi makes it very clear that she doesn't appreciate your attitude, you lift an arm to shield yourself. The cog tears your flesh as it were paper, spattering the screen with droplets of crimson. You try to snatch it from her cursor, but it shreds your fingers, surprisingly sharp for something which ordinarily looks rather stylistic and harmless.

"They moaned about resources," she says airily. "Said that nobody was supposed to leave, returning my data state to a physical form was going to be expensive, etcetera etcetera. But they could do it. If I could make enough money to pay them back, they could do it."

She lifts her arms up above her head, threads her fingers, and closes her eyes as she stretches, then lowers them again and returns her gaze to your injured form.

"That's when I met Harvey," she states, her tone shifting to a languid purr. "Harvey Harman Harvington, what a vacuous name. What a vacuous person. Mm, but he was perfect. Eager to please, happy to be walked on, a breadwinner by nature and an imbecile by definition."

You want to come to Harvey's defense, but you also want to stay conscious for long enough to hear the full story. Begrudgingly, you let her continue.

"I think he was from reality, he might've been a fabrication, it doesn't really matter," she muses. "Either way, he was smitten with me. Too cowardly to make a move, but I was happy to stake my claim. He doted on me and adored me, things were going well. We got married, and he knew that now he was officially providing for both of us, he'd need to get a job."

Her fingers curl into fists on the desk, and you watch them with mild interest.

"Oh, he tried," she states sardonically. "He tried so many things. Unfortunately, he's just the kind of man who fails at everything. He finally found a job that'd accept him, for better or worse, and what did he do? Caused a complete, city-wide meltdown in the stock market because of a teeny tiny fucking cretinous error!"

As much as you try to repress it, you find yourself wincing at Eun-Mi's booming voice. It's deafening due to her size in comparison to yours, and you'd cover your ears if lifting your arm didn't hurt so much.

"Anyway," she continues breezily, grabbing the mouse and lazily swaying the cog near your head, causing you to flinch and shy away from it, "I found the perfect job for him."

"The booth," you state darkly.

"The booth," she confirms with a smile that makes you feel nauseated. "I mean, if I wanted to hurt him and I'm his wife, mother of his child, then total strangers would delight in it!"

"Yes, when did Toby come into this world?" you ask, unable to help yourself as you hear the first mention of Harvey's son. "If you're so eager to leave the simulation and you hate your husband so much, why become a parent with him?"

"I had to get something out of Harvey." She rolls her eyes, idly tapping her finger on the mouse but not applying enough pressure to click. "His son is the only decent thing he's ever achieved. When I get out of here, I'm bringing him with me."

"You'd take him away from his dad?" 

You're incredulous, the words spilling without your permission.

Eun-Mi drops the cog and catches your chin with the cursor, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into her eyes. You hear it rattle as it hits the ground by your feet and circles briefly before falling flat.

"I'd be doing Toby an injustice if I didn't," she responds firmly. "I don't want my son to grow up weak and spineless like his father."

You can thoroughly understand why Harvey started punching screens to try and escape so he could choke this woman.

"Alright," you say, though nothing about any of this is alright. "How much does Uitae want in order to free you?"

"Ten thousand dollars." She says this as though she's rehearsed it several times and doesn't even need to think about it now. "I suppose the extraction process is going to be costly so I'm willing to pay it."

"So..." You have to ensure that you've heard correctly and aren't just hallucinating due to the blood loss. "Why is the goal for Bloodmoney twenty-five thousand dollars?"

With a little giggle that's so sweet you can hardly believe it's just come from someone as toxic as her, Eun-Mi leans back in her chair and toys with a lock of her hair.

"Who doesn't like a little pocket change?" she asks softly. "Nobody's putting a limit on how much I can earn, and I'm going to need financial security in reality, so why not aim as high as possible?"

"Because it's at the cost of someone's life!" you snap, a growl building in your throat. "Even if he doesn't get killed, he gets seriously hurt! You put those weapons in your game, you know the outcome!"

Eun-Mi hums playfully, then picks up the cog with her cursor and drags it up your leg, cutting through your clothes and drenching the ragged fabric with gore.

"Haven't you realised yet?" she teases, watching with satisfaction as you suppress a cry of pain and retreat as far as possible from the steel blade. "I. Don't. Care."

You exhale shakily, feeling a lump in your throat as you swallow. You weren't sure what you'd achieve when you came here, but you'd at least hoped to appeal to Eun-Mi's humanity. You should've considered the fact she might not have any. Harvey was right, you're more than likely going to end up in his place. This was a bad idea.

"The reset is broken!" you whimper, cowering as she brings the cog towards you again. "He's going to die properly!"

She hesitates. Her eyes darken, then she focuses on something beyond your sight. She stabs a few keys and frowns. Her brows furrow, nails tapping an impatient pattern on the desk. The cog hangs menacingly in the air, just inches from your face.

"...I can fix it," she responds dismissively. "A simulation inside a simulation can't be broken, it's just... behaving unexpectedly. Probably because you're here."

Despite her words, you can see she's perturbed. That holds true to Bloodmoney 2, she at least cares enough about Harvey to not want him dying in front of her eyes. Or deleting himself.

"How do you know?" she asks suddenly, her stare boring into you. "How do you know the reset is broken? How do you know he'll die?"

"I..."

You falter. This is where things get complicated. You're in a simulation, she's in a simulation, but you came here to help and she came here to corrupt. Nonetheless, she's as accessible as Harvey is in terms of gameplay. Bloodmoney and Bloodmoney 2 are just games in reality, she's just a character within them. But where does that leave Harvey? Where does that leave her?  If she's still at the stage where she doesn't yet know about the reset, Bloodmoney 2 is taking place right now. So then, it couldn't possibly have already played out.

Have you time-travelled somehow? Got into the simulation just before all Hell broke loose? Does time work differently in the digital world? Is it possible that the Bloodmoney games were visions of the future and you've jumped into the past to prevent them?

"Eun-Mi, what month is it?"

"Month?"

"Month. Give me the day as well."

She doesn't appreciate your diversion, but you see her eyes lower as she checks.

"September seventh," she responds warily. "Why?"

"September seventh..." you repeat, serving to further irritate her with your lack of an answer. 

Five days before the release of Bloodmoney 2.

Things are only just starting to go wrong for Eun-Mi. She must've put him in the simulation on the 4th of September for his Day One to take place, and then she reset him and sent him into Day Two. That's when he met you. It must be, you know he wasn't injured but had experience of dying. If you're still in Day Two, which the date suggests you are, then tomorrow, she'll try to reset him and fail. By September 12th, Bloodmoney 2 will take place and Harvey will delete himself.

You don't know if that's still how the timeline will progress now you're here, but you only have five days to find out.

"If you keep this up," you tell Eun-Mi, "Harvey will find out. He'll despise you. He'll erase his existence to stop you from hurting him."

You don't tell her the timeframe. You don't doubt that she'll bleed him dry until the twelfth if you do. 

"That would be problematic," she muses. "I don't want him back, you can keep him, but I guess he's better alive."

"So you'll let us out of the simulation?" you ask hopefully. "That would be for the best. You've got enough money to return to reality, you don't need any more."

"I don't need any more," Eun-Mi agrees, her smile growing sinister as she clicks the cog and tugs it, setting the metal spinning in place. "But I want it."

You watch in horror as her cursor moves to the bed icon, the pop up querying if she wants to end the day. You're caged in by the twirling steel, you can't try stopping her unless you want to really hurt yourself.

"You've got a lot to say, haven't you?" she continues smugly. "Yap yap yap, bark bark bark. I think it's time that Harvey's little guard dog got some sleep. You've got a long day at the booth ahead of you."

As if the penny hasn't dropped already, she decides to spell it out.

"Since I don't want to risk losing him, you'll just have to take his place. Now, be a good doggy and lie down."

You feel yourself fall into a bed, and as much as you fight sleep, it drags you down with ferocity. The last thing you hear before you lose consciousness is Eun-Mi's venomous voice as if it's right next to your ear.

"Lights out, bitch."

Chapter Text

Your eyes pry themselves open as a light breeze nips at your skin, the feeling of solidity beneath your elbows. Eun-Mi wasn't joking, you're definitely at Harvey's booth. You glance up, seeing the SHØP sign, and exhale slowly. Maybe you'll get a nice player, someone who only uses the feather. It's possible, you were a nice player once.

Your heart begins to race as you see a van pull up, and an avatar climbs out of it. They're faceless, save for a drawn on smile and unreadable eyes. You suppose they don't really need identifiers, this is merely the representation of a person. They make their way towards the booth, and stop before you. For a moment, you're frozen. Maybe if you don't greet them, you won't start the process. But to your surprise, the player themself has a voice. You can't tell what gender they are, but they speak with desperation.

"I need twenty-five thousand dollars for an operation," they implore you, gesturing at the sign before meeting your gaze with a hopeful expression. "I saw your sign, and..."

They trail off, leaving room for your own dialogue. You can't bring yourself to say no to them at the moment, not until you know their intentions. This could be a good person, someone who wants to play the game for the best ending. You find yourself wondering if these are your own thoughts, or Harvey's mentality rubbing off on you, but you decide to see the silver lining instead of the cloud.

"Hi there!" you greet them cheerfully, telling them your name before welcoming them to the booth. "Each time you click me, I'll give you a dollar!"

You almost laugh at yourself as you reel off Harvey's dialogue, touching on the lines about tiny magic spells and belief. You might as well give them the whole spiel, it's your last opportunity to speak before they can begin clicking you. Once you finish, the first click happens. You don't get chance to prepare for it, but to your relief, you don't feel pain when it happens. The player's avatar taps your arm, so softly that it barely even makes a dent in your clothing. A dollar appears in their account. Or, as you begrudgingly acknowledge the reality, Eun-Mi's account.

Since it makes no difference to them if you engage or not, you leave them to it until their total hits $100. The shop sign illuminates and you eye them cautiously. It's just a feather for now, and purchasing it will knock them back to $0, so you've got time before the needle comes. If indeed, it does. It might not. When the feather meets your skin, you laugh nervously. It tickles a little, not enough for you to pay it any interest though. Your focus is on the money as it climbs. It reaches $498 much quicker than you were expecting, and you tense as a ray of yellow bathes your skin from the neon overhead.

There's a look of surprise on the player's face, then you see it shift into a smirk. The needle appears in their hand. You feel your stomach drop, and try to pull away from the booth, feeling something heavy around your ankle. You don't need to look at it to know; you're shackled in place.

"You're not planning to use that, right?" you plead, staring into the empty hollows which represent their eyes.

As the point of the needle closes in on you, you whimper and back away, not wanting to see it coming.

Which is why the sudden thud startles you so much.

When you look up, you find the player's avatar gone. You feel the weight at your ankle fall away and use the newfound freedom to peer over the booth. The player is on the ground, their eyes creased into the less than and more than symbols which are typically seen in anime and manga. There are hands around their throat. You're too dumbfounded to even make a sound, let alone try and speak, so you just watch in silence as they choke and thrash, until their movement stops and body fades away.

Harvey slumps, rolling onto his side on the grass as he starts panting heavily. You find him covered in tiny pinpricks, a few hints of blood around his mouth, but he's smiling as he meets your eyes. His hair is messy, spilling over his temple in tousled strands, a few plastered to his skin with sweat. You leave the booth and help him up, and he envelops you in a warm hug. As you breathe him in, his scent floods your senses and brings a wave of calm. His hand rubs gentle circles into your back, chin resting on your shoulder and lips brushing the lobe of your ear.

"I'm so glad you're alright," he murmurs. "I couldn't bear to let them hurt you, not even a little."

You feel your heart perform several somersaults, flutter like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, then try to break out of your chest. It should jar with you that he just killed someone, but it doesn't. Because he didn't, not really. He gave a player a Game Over screen. He protected you. He got hurt in the process, but he doesn't even seem to care about that. You tighten your arms around him and snuggle into his chest, nuzzling him like a cat. Of all the ways you expected your first day in the booth to end, this certainly wasn't one of them.

"Thank you," you breathe. "Are you okay?"

"Couple of scratches," he says with a shrug. "Nothing I ain't been through before. I take it Eun-Mi caught you."

"Yep," you grumble. "Why did you marry her? She's awful."

"The story about the frog in boiling water comes to mind," he responds dryly.

"I got the fridge, at least," you tell him proudly, reaching into your jacket and pulling out the fridge icon.

You set it down and watch with mild awe as it expands to full size like a plant growing in a timelapse, stopping once it reaches its proper scale. The door swings open, showing an assortment of cake, bread, and other foods. Harvey separates from you and grabs a piece of cake, grinning as he takes a hearty bite. The frosting stains his lips, and a few crumbs decorate the flowing locks of hair near his mouth.

"Mm, that's good stuff," he comments as he chews. "Of course, I could be biased because I'm fairly sure it's my stuff. Eun-Mi's not the kind of person to do anything with love, let alone bake."

You reach out and brush his lip, causing him to still. He blinks twice, then catches your wrist, turning your hand before placing a kiss on the knuckles. As you stare at each other, there's a mutual moment of chemistry that sparkles in the air. Harvey pulls your arm and draws you back into his embrace, giving your nose a gentle nuzzle before his gaze darts to your lips. He exhales softly, his breath warm and faintly sweet, then cradles your face with both hands. You reach up to touch his cheek, and shatter his composure in the process. He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. You feel a moan slip from your throat, causing your face to drench with rose, but he seems undeterred. He nips your bottom lip and gently tugs it in his teeth, and you can feel him smirking as he undoubtedly experiences your flusterment. His hands travel from your face to your waist, tracing the contours of your body almost hungrily. Yet he remains careful, ensuring he has your full consent and isn't pushing your boundaries. You're not sure how long the kiss lasts, but you only surface when you're gasping for breath, finally favouring air over the taste of his lips.

He holds you close as you regain composure, his heart thrumming softly against your chest, and rests his chin atop your head. There's a moment of comfortable silence, then you feel him shift in a way that suggests he's about to speak. You've learned his mannerisms since meeting him in person, little things that make him unique.

"We need to do something about... the situation," he states quietly. "I can't keep killing the players, they might end up appearing en masse."

You appreciate him not saying her name and spoiling the cosy atmosphere with it, but she does need to be addressed.

"I have something in mind for dealing with the situation," you tell him. "It's going to take some experimentation, but nothing dangerous."

"You promise?" he asks. "Because last time you experimented, you came back looking more mangled than, well, me."

You snicker at that, causing him to pout.

"It wasn't that bad," you tell him, shivering softly as he runs a finger along the fresh scar on your arm and sends tingles through your skin.

"Are you forgetting I can see where she cut you up?" he asks sternly. "You might've healed but you ain't invulnerable, you were a right mess when you first arrived. I wanted to get to the booth sooner, but she dragged me in so we could talk. I refused to talk, put myself to bed and came back to you. You'd recovered by then, but even so."

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you mumble guiltily.

"I expected it," he responds flatly. "You were going to look for trouble, you found it. But if you do that again, you may not come back."

"That's not my plan," you say firmly. "I'm staying right here. The experimentation actually involves you, I can't do it without your involvement."

"Oh, really?" he regards you with evident interest, then bites his lip in a way that's far too attractive. "I think experimenting with you could be rather fun."

You rearrange your thoughts into ones that are suitable for public viewing, then try to recall where you were leading the train before Harvey decided to derail it.

"Let's take five, have something to eat and refresh ourselves," you muse, trying not to think about the taste of icing on his skin. "We can get to work after that."

Harvey strokes your cheek with a curled finger, his expression returning to one more innocent and fond than teasing.

"I don't want to make assumptions," he hums, "but I think this might be the best job I'll ever have."

Chapter Text

"Will this even work?" Harvey asks curiously, eyeing the booth with evident suspicion. "The game is supposed to be played from the outside, it might not allow us to participate."

Sighing patiently, you guide him around to stand in front of it. His apprehension isn't unfounded, he has the most right to fear the booth and the horrors it could bring, but this is a necessary step towards freedom. In order to leave Bloodmoney, you're fairly sure you first need to play it. You're not letting him be the target of Eun-Mi's coded tools, much as you trust yourself not to harm him, you don't trust her. She might possess you and force your hand and that's something you simply can't allow. So, you're taking his place once again, but this time, with him as the player.

In theory.

"We won't know until we try," you tell him gently. "Come on, give me a tap and let's see if your money goes up."

"Eun-Mi's money," you both correct in unison, before giggling at each other.

"You know what I mean," you continue, threading your fingers and resting your elbows on the booth. "The in-game money."

Harvey pouts at you, then leans forward and places a kiss on your nose. You feel heat spread across your face as he draws back, that playful little smirk on his lips again. He glances at the dollar amount, which still rests at zero, then shrugs.

"Worth a shot."

"That's not a tap," you murmur, avoiding his eyes because you know your blush will reinstate itself tenfold if you meet his gaze.

"Silly me!" he announces unapologetically. "Must've misread the rules. Let's give this another go, then."

With that, he reaches out and touches your hand. One dollar appears in the total box and you grin at each other. If contact equals cash, you're successfully playing Bloodmoney. Fuelled by his success, Harvey pitter-patters his fingertips along your skin, the dollars rolling like wheels and the numbers speeding into double digits. You feel shivers as he slowly turns your arm, playing his fingers atop the pulse point on your wrist, then trailing a single finger up and down your radial nerve. You have no idea why it tingles, why a feather-light touch induces a reaction in you that almost makes you squirm, but as he lowers the rest of his fingers and the feeling multiplies, you almost pull away. Humming innocently, he guides your hand so it's palm-down again and resumes his previous rhythm on the back of it.

"We've reached one hundred," you murmur absentmindedly, catching the yellow glow in your peripheral vision. "First upgrade."

"Last upgrade," Harvey responds, pulling open the shop sign like a drawer and withdrawing the feather.

You nod. The idea of playing Bloodmoney yourselves is to make enough money to unlock the hammer. Since it had such a devastating effect on the window when Harvey was trapped on your computer, you figure it may be just the tool to break you out of Eun-Mi's screen next time you enter her version of the simulation. You've secretly been calling it the Harveygotchi area, just for reference's sake. But if Harvey could use it to smash his way through your monitor, hers should be a cinch. The plan is to use the feather until you've accumulated enough money to afford the hammer, then mutually sleep and launch an assault on Eun-Mi's device. You know a good ending can be achieved with just the feather, but you've yet to check if the other upgrades unlock without your progression along the tools.

This is something you have to be careful of, since once you change tools, you can't go back. Harvey seems in control now, but once the weapons are in his hands, his next 'click' might progress in a direction he hasn't approved. The hammer is priced at $1,500 dollars, which isn't much to achieve with the feather, but you get the feeling that the hammer itself won't become unlockable until the needle is unlocked. So, if that's the case, you have to cater to the price of both to ensure that you can purchase the needle without using it, and then purchase the hammer after. Or rather, Harvey can, but you're thinking in terms of your own gameplay currently for simplicity's sake.

If you build up $2,000, you can buy the needle at $500 and then the hammer at $1,500 and not have to use either. Once you both leave the booth, the code should no longer have a hold on you and therefore it'll be safe to touch each other without fear of damage.

"We need two thousand dollars," you tell Harvey, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as his face blossoms into an expression of pure mischief.

"I get to tickle you with this feather one thousand times?" he clarifies, waving it in the air like a tiny flag.

"Is this going to be revenge for the times I tickled you?" you ask meekly, knowing he already has the advantage because you can't run away.

"Oh, I don't know," he muses airily. "Maybe, maybe not. You're only trapped here with no way out, why would I possibly take advantage of that?"

You squeak as he lunges at you with the feather, and to your surprise and mild concern, it's incredibly tickly. You giggle nervously as you try to evade his pursuit but he's far too effective, managing to target all the spots where you're weakest to the sensation. By the time he relents, you're a flushed mess, panting lightly, and he looks like the cat that got the cream.

"Two thousand dollars," he states proudly, looking down at where you've dramatically collapsed on the booth. "That came quicker than I expected. Time to move to phase two of the plan, ain't it?"

You compose yourself, but remain in place, not wanting him to see how red your face is. You swear the blush has crept onto your neck and stained the tips of your ears too.

"Mhm," you respond from the safety of your arms. "You should be able to buy the needle and then the hammer in one go."

"Roger that."

Harvey opens the shop drawer overhead again and pulls out the needle, then puts it on the booth some distance away before heading back in to get the hammer.

You suddenly yelp, your head shooting up as pain assaults your lips and cheek, as if someone's just torn your flesh open. Harvey's smile drops and he cradles your face, staring at you in horror. With a trembling hand, he wipes a bead of blood from your skin and whimpers.

"No... Nononono, I didn't touch you! I would never! What happened‽"

Glancing at the hammer, now resting on the booth where he's just dropped it, you swallow thickly. Eun-Mi never would've expected someone to do the math and bypass the needle. Your 'sprite' is reacting as if the needle has been used on you because that's the natural development before the hammer comes into play.

"Shhh," you soothe Harvey, taking his hand and pulling him away from the booth. "It's okay. I'm okay. It's just Eun-Mi's code, nothing I can't heal from."

You return briefly to pick up the hammer. It's heavy in your grip, but not uncomfortable to hold. You can certainly wield it with some force when it comes to breaking out. But for now, you set it down on the grass and continue distancing yourself and Harvey from it, and the booth.

He still looks distraught. His thumb traces your lips with absolute delicacy, careful not to touch your wound. "How could I do this?" he whispers, staring at you in utter despair. "I could never hurt you, I wouldn't..."

"You didn't," you tell him firmly. "It was the code remaining linear. Better that than crash the game, which, thinking about it, is what could've happened. Then we'd really be in trouble."

Since his grief doesn't seem to be lessening any, you dart your tongue next time his thumb draws close enough, licking the tip. Your nose crinkles as you taste the coppery tang of your own blood, having not really thought that part through, but a few seconds of mild discomfort is worth it to see the look on Harvey's face.

He freezes, looking between you and the moistened digit as if to ask if you truly just did that, then turns as red as a cherry and averts his gaze. A cute little smile graces his lips as he tries not to meet your eyes, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief at providing an effective distraction.

"We got the hammer," you say after a moment. "Mission accomplished. Now we just need to use it to escape."

"Mm," Harvey responds absentmindedly.

You get the feeling he's not actually listening to you, so you gently touch his shoulder.

"Time for phase three," you state quietly.

"...When your lips are healed, I want to kiss you again," he tells you, his gaze returning to yours and eyes filled with burning intensity. "You're beyond brave. You risk everything and even if it gets you hurt, you stand up again and carry on. Eun-Mi couldn't scare you into submission, the rules of a simulated dimension were futile in an attempt to limit your intentions, and despite every obstacle thrown your way, you just keep pushing forward. I don't think I've made it clear yet, but I adore you. I've never felt this strongly about anyone, not even Eun-Mi, and I ain't about to admonish myself for that because you're a hundred times the person she is."

Your breathing falters, both at the heat of his stare and the emotion in his words. Before you can respond, he draws you in and drops a kiss on your head, holding you against his pounding heart.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep while I'm fired up like this," he admits sheepishly, resting his chin on you. "Maybe we can stay a little longer? No need to go charging into battle just yet."

You smile tiredly. You're scared too. There are many things that could go wrong, and you don't know what your next move is even if they go right. While you can't delay the inevitable, you suppose you can take a breather before you face it.

"I never got to try any of your cake," you murmur. "Got a bit distracted if I'm honest."

"There's plenty left." Harvey releases you in order to practically bound over to the fridge, retrieving a slice of cake for you with puppy-like energy. "Tell me what you think? I can take criticism, I'm tougher than I look."

You take a bite and absolutely melt. The sponge is light and fluffy, not too dry or moist, and the icing is the perfect sweetness, lingering on your lips long after you swallow.

"Well?" Harvey regards you excitedly. "What's the verdict?"

You reach up and pull him close, then place a feather-light kiss on his lips. He blinks, pauses to seemingly process what's just happened, then rests his hands on your waist as he captures your lips in a deeper connection, his tongue tracing the bottom one in teasing strokes. You let them part, allowing him in, and his grip tightens on your body, heat flowing between you both as he closes the distance and holds you flush against him. You can feel the contours of his toned frame through his clothes, your fingers playing along the fabric as you rest your hands above his hips. He moans quietly, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, planting kisses on your skin as his warm breath accompanies the caress of his lips. You grab his shirt in fistfuls, feeling him laugh and his body tensing in response to the action. He responds by nipping your ear, sending a sensation through your core that makes you gasp. You whine with need, tugging at his shirt and faintly registering the tear of a button.

But he gently pushes you away, giving you a look that suggests he'd be using the booth for a very different purpose if he gave in to his desires.

"I want to," he breathes. "But I can't let you be that vulnerable while we're here. We have to remain strong until we escape. No weaknesses."

"No weaknesses," you repeat dazedly, still searching for your composure because it's wandered off far away from you and you have no idea where it went.

"Come on, let's try and get some rest."

Harvey scoops you up as if you weigh nothing, then sets you on the grass, just like before. This time, he arranges himself so you can lay your head on his chest as you start to get comfortable. His hand idly begins tracing patterns on your back, and the fire inside you simmers down to a cosy warmth, soon coaxing your soothed mind into slumber.

Chapter Text

Day Four.

Breakout Day.

As you awaken in Eun-Mi's simulation, you find yourself alone. You expected that. The interface isn't big enough for two people, but you know Harvey is nearby. Perhaps hiding in one of the minigames, not wanting to be detected until the crucial moment. Eun-Mi isn't at her computer, and you find yourself staring out at the empty room as you approach the screen. Maybe this is how Harvey used to feel when you left for the night, trapped behind a pane of glass and watching an abandoned space until you returned. You push that thought aside and pull the hammer from within your jacket, feeling it transform from icon to physical matter against your palm.

You're just about to attempt your first swing when the door opens. Your heart skips a beat and you hide the hammer behind your back, exhaling slowly. The progression of footsteps entering the room is not a series of purposeful strides, but a tentative patter, like a cat exploring a new environment for the first time. The sound grows gradually louder, then stops just inches away. You hear a faint scuffle, a groan of effort, and suddenly, you're face to face with someone new.

Yet someone familiar. Those ice blue eyes bear a striking resemblance to Harvey's own, and gentle fronds of curled black hair fall softly around a pale face, the bottom lip beginning to tremble. A small hand reaches out to touch the screen, and before you even know why, you lift your own to meet it.

"Toby," you breathe.

"You are real," he responds, staring at you in awe. "Mommy said you were part of a game, but I've never played a game that talked to me. I hear her in here, talking to Daddy. Where is he? When is he coming home?"

You're reminded that a five year old naturally has this level of comprehension, even if he's too young to process what he's learning. His brain may not be fully developed yet, but if he understands what's going on, you're not about to lie to him.

"Daddy's in here too," you tell him softly. "Mommy doesn't want him to come home, but we do. Daddy misses you very much."

"I miss him too." Toby's bottom lip starts to tremble again, and you get the feeling he's trying not to cry. "I want him back."

"I know," you soothe gently. "But we can't get him back until-"

An idea suddenly occurs to you. You lean closer to the screen, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Mimicking your behaviour, Toby leans in as well.

"We can get him back," you say, "but we need your help. You're crucial to this mission. We can't do it without you."

Like a determined little soldier, Toby nods, his expression growing serious. "What do I need to do?"

"Go into the kitchen," you state, "and make as much noise as possible. Bang pans together, hit things with spoons, rattle drawers, do whatever you want but make it loud."

You pause for a beat, then remember that you're dealing with a child and there are knives in the kitchen.

"Just don't hurt yourself," you add. "Don't touch anything sharp."

"Got it."

Toby carefully climbs down from the computer chair, then gives you a look of determination before leaving the room.

It isn't long before you hear the racket start up from a few rooms over. You don't know how long it'll be until Eun-Mi puts a stop to it, so you seize your moment and heave the hammer, aiming the face of it into the centre of the glass. A spiderweb of cracks decorates the screen, and the hammer bounces back a little from the impact.

"TOBY!" Eu-Mi's voice booms through the house, her familiar strides pounding across the corridor. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

You feel your chest tighten uncomfortably. If she catches the sliver of light, notices her door is open, it's over. She could get the cursor and grab your hammer before you can so much as swing it back. As desperation sets in, you hit the screen again, your heart racing. The second set of fractures darts across the first, obscuring your view and filling the glass with splintered lines. 

A shadow falls over the monitor, too tall to be Toby's. You hear an ominous click as the mouse awakens, the cursor aiming for you with terrifying accuracy, and with all your strength, you throw the hammer into the screen.

S M A S H

The glass shatters into pieces, shards falling like raindrops and disintegrating into tiny crystals as they land. You'd thought that climbing through a broken pane would be dangerous, but the remaining edges seem to melt beneath your touch like water as you leave the monitor and crawl onto Eun-Mi's desk. The existing fragments tear up your hands and knees, but you don't care. You swing your legs round and push yourself off the desk, landing on your feet with a soft thud. Eun-Mi has, advisably, retreated several paces by this point. She's staring at you in horror from the doorway. You hear Harvey's soft sounds of pain as he joins you, his warmth soon meeting your shoulder.

"H-Harvey..." she stammers, her gaze fixed on him with such intensity that it's as if you don't exist. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get hurt!"

"Didn't you."

Harvey's voice is so acidic that you almost feel his words splash your skin and burn it as they spill from his sharpened tongue. You feel tempted to step away, but you know he'd never hurt you. He's radiating loathing with such intensity that your pulse quickens, though you remind yourself that it's not aimed in your direction.

He stalks towards Eun-Mi, who seems more intent on blocking his escape from the room than protecting herself, and for a second, you catch the look in his eyes. It sends shivers through your entire body, icy tingles which culminate at your fingertips. You briefly wonder if Toby is far enough away to stay protected from this. If Harvey is about to murder his wife, you don't want the little lad witnessing it.

"Don't hurt me!"

She shields herself with both arms, cowering away from Harvey as he finally closes the distance between them. You hold your breath, but to your surprise, he picks her up and puts her over his shoulder. 

"Oh, I won't," he states coldly, stalking back towards the computer. "But they will."

You watch in awe as the glass pieces around your feet seem to pool, licking up your body like tiny flames and shimmering at your fingertips. This isn't the first time you've witnessed this effect, you just didn't realise you were causing it. Experimentally, you run your fingertip across the broken slivers on the desk, watching them fuse together into a larger shard. You draw your hand back, looking at Harvey in disbelief. He isn't watching you, because during the time it took for you to realise that you possess some kind of glass-manipulating ability, he's crossed the room and now stands before the desk.

Harvey lifts Eun-Mi easily, despite her squirming and kicking, and to your immense surprise, he throws her through the monitor. You expect the computer to break, considering that's what would usually happen when a person gets launched into a piece of technology, but she simply disappears as soon as her body passes through the frame. He looks to you, expression softer but jaw still tight, and you peer at your hands. The liquid glass is trickling down them in little rivulets, but never actually passing your wrists. It cascades your skin like an endless stream, pouring from your fingertips like a shimmering waterfall.

Eun-Mi's fingers reach out of the computer, and you move as if powered by instinct. You stare her dead in the eyes, then shove her chest, knocking her backwards. As she stumbles and tries to stabilise, you lift both hands and spread your palms across the empty frame. The droplets of glass bead on the monitor and solidify beneath your touch, and the pane stretches out, flooding every corner and border and filling it, until the entire space is coated by a faintly shining layer. There isn't a single hint of screen left on the desk or the floor, it's all back in place and separating the pitch darkness from the soft pastels of the room.

The computer lights up, revealing the simulation, and Eun-Mi stares at you in panic through the glass. She puts both palms on it, then bangs her fists against it. It doesn't even react. Dismissing you, as she seems to enjoy doing, she appeals to Harvey instead.

"Harvey! You have to get me out of here!" she pleads, tears running down her cheeks. "I never meant to cause you harm, I swear! The simulation was meant to run in the background, you weren't supposed to be affected by it!"

"Sweetheart." Harvey leans towards the screen, his voice dropping into a tone that's low and dangerous, bordering on the purr of a mountain lion. "You can get yourself out of there."

"Right!" you agree warmly. "It's only ten thousand dollars for the company to let you out, so earn that and you're home free."

"But of course, every tool costs money," Harvey states in a husky voice. "You know that. You designed the game that way. Ten thousand should be an easy amount to achieve, provided nobody wants to use those little upgrades. Each purchase sets you right back to zero if they buy it as soon as the shop lights up. But with such an enticing reward system, curiosity to be satiated, endings to experience, people might just keep poking and prodding you, and you'll just have to take it."

You have to resist the urge to react to the feelings inside at this moment. Nobody should sound that sexy while threatening someone, but something about the delivery of his silken words just makes you shiver in delight. Luckily, he's not focused on you.

Harvey pushes the mouse over to you, and you glance at him, then reach down and take it.

"Care to do the honours?" he asks, draping an arm around your waist, much to Eun-Mi's dismay.

You move the cursor over to the bed icon and click it, sliding up to the prompt of 'End the day?'

"Harvey, no!" Eun-Mi throws herself at the screen, pawing at the glass as she desperately tries to find her husband's humanity. "We can find a way through this! I'll never take advantage of you again, I swear!"

Harvey regards her with emotionless eyes. He allows a heavy moment of silence to descend, then speaks brightly, giving her his warmest smile.

"Looks like it's time for you to catch some Z's!" he announces cheerfully.

"Harvey..." she whimpers. "Please..."

He gives you a single nod, turning away from the monitor before leaving the room.

You smirk, savouring the terror in Eun-Mi's eyes as you lean in close before you deliver that final click, banishing her to the booth.

"Lights out, bitch."