The day before the next session felt like walking through a dream I didn't want to be in.
Everything looked the same — the sterile halls, the white-glass lighting, the quiet murmurs of personnel walking past like they weren't complicit in something monstrous. I'd memorized this place by now. Every curve of the corridor. Every hum in the vents. Every corner where cameras blinked in the periphery.
And still, it all felt wrong.
Because tomorrow, I wouldn't just be watching.
I'd be in the room. Close enough to feel his breath, smell his heat. Close enough to see every twitch and tremble when they pushed his body into a place it was never supposed to go. I would see it all, from his side.
And I wouldn't be able to stop any of it.
Nyx had gone from pacing to outright snarling inside my head. She didn't want me here. She wanted out. Wanted blood.
Let me take over. Let me end it. One second. One swipe and his scent won't ever be tainted again—
But I couldn't let her loose.
Not now.
Not while he was still in their hands.
If I fought, he'd be punished.
If I snapped, he'd be taken from me.
They'd cut him off like a malfunctioning doll. Reassign him. Retune him. Destroy what little of himself he had left.
So I did what I always did when the walls felt like they were closing in.
I went to him.
When I entered the room for our final "normal" session, he was already sitting by the wall again — knees hugged to his chest, gaze distant.
He didn't jump when the door opened.
Didn't greet me like he usually did.
Just looked up and offered me a faint smile. Small. Fragile. Like he was trying to pretend everything was fine.
But his scent betrayed him.
There was fear in it.
Not sharp. Not full-blown panic. Just a tremor.
He knows, Nyx whispered. He doesn't have the words, but he knows something's coming.
I crossed the room and sat beside him without a word.
For a moment, we didn't speak.
I just listened to the quiet sound of his breathing. Watched how his hands stayed curled together, resting between his knees. Like he was bracing himself.
"Do you feel okay?" I asked.
He blinked. Looked at me.
Then nodded once.
A lie.
But a polite one.
My chest ached.
"You don't have to pretend with me, Nine," I said gently. "Not here."
He swallowed.
"I feel... not okay," he said softly. "But I do not know why."
I nodded. "That's normal. Sometimes our bodies feel danger before our minds catch up."
He looked down again.
His hair fell forward, brushing his cheeks. He didn't move to fix it.
"You feel like something's coming," I said.
He nodded again.
This time, slower.
"I don't know what it is. Just... fire. In my head. In my chest. But not like last time. Different."
I didn't correct him.
I didn't tell him that the difference was going to be me.
That this time, I'd be present. Standing there, while they drugged him. Restrained him. Pushed him into a chemically-induced state of heat and monitored every whimper.
Instead, I reached out and brushed his hair back behind his ear.
"I'll be with you tomorrow," I said. "But not like this. It won't be a normal session."
He looked up sharply.
Fear rippled through his scent again.
"I won't hurt you," I added quickly. "I'll be there because I asked to be. I want to understand what they're doing. So I can help you."
"But they don't let you help," he whispered.
His voice shook.
My fingers stilled against his cheek.
"No," I said. "They don't."
He was quiet again.
Then—
Softly, "Will you look at me?"
I blinked.
"I always do," I whispered.
"No," he said. "When I am... burning. When they make me feel wrong. Will you still look at me then?"
Gods.
I couldn't speak for a second.
Nyx pressed so tightly to my mind I thought she might tear herself out of me.
"Yes," I said, finally. "Yes, I will look at you. I will see you. I won't look away."
He leaned forward then — slow, deliberate — and pressed his forehead to mine.
We stayed like that.
Just breathing.
Silent.
And when I left, his fingers lingered on my wrist just a second longer than usual.
Like he wanted to ask me not to go.
Like he already knew that after tomorrow, nothing would be the same again.