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"They made you see a psychiatrist?" Jonathan asked almost dumbfounded, Willow peeked out from the cover she'd cocooned herself in and nodded. "How enlightening."

"What about you?"

"Yes nothing like talking to a former worker who is trying to get into my head."

"They evidently failed."

"Indeed they did."

"How'd you get out?"

"I gassed the place."

"Wow," Willow looked at him with wide eyes. "That's cool."

"Usually you'd lecture me about doing something like that."

"Oh," Willow smirked, "Don't forget; I've changed." She smiled proudly while putting a hand on her chest and smiling more.

"Congratulations then."

"Thank you!"

Jonathan shook his head and flexed his fingers. It seems when she wasn't blowing up flats, Willow was also making him some near gear. She hadn't made any toxins obviously because she couldn't. But ways of storing it had been drawn up and made. At the moment he sat wearing a new glove, it was much like his old one. Syringes where fingers should be, the only different was this one was longer. It stopped about mid forearm with buckles attached, it meant that it was a more secure fit and there would be no worries of it suddenly falling off. Willow had also made it possible for the syringes to have tubing leading from them to a separate source of toxins. Much like the idea she had where the gaseous form would be stored in his inside jacket pocket.

Willow fidgeted forward and swung her legs over the edged of the bed and swung them simply. Leaning her head against his shoulder she sighed. "It's weird that you're here."

"I can go." Jonathan looked down at her, Willow shook her head quickly and latched onto his arm.

"Where you go, I go."

"Ah, we're having this again, hm? People will start to think you're a stalker." Jonathan patted her on the head, she shuddered, he raised an eyebrow. Of course she had gone about three months without being tested on. Suddenly being confronted with the syringe glove must have been a sudden realisation.

"Can I cut your hair?" Willow piped up suddenly, Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her. She just smiled innocently up at him. "I'm taking the silence as a yes."

"Most people would take my silence as a no." Jonathan said while watching her jump around, soon she appeared with a pair of scissors and a comb. "Honestly, Willow go away."

"Charming."

"What if I like my hair?"

"You keep having to push it out of your eyes. And you have such nice eyes." Willow's eyes widened and stared at him.

"You're starting to worry me. More so than usual." Jonathan said and watched with guarded eyes and she took to combing his hair and seemingly amusing herself by giving him a hair cut. Halfway through she reached over and put her cover around him because he was still cold.

"If you have the flu I'll laugh."

"You're so nice." Jonathan said while yawning quietly and rubbing his eyes. Willow put the scissors and comb on the nearby table and ran her hand through his hair.

"Much better," she smiled, he opened his eyes and looked at her. Ruffling his hair again she shuffled back and sat cross legged, turning around he looked at her.

"You've settled in here well."

"I was scared to begin with. It was so dark, yet it wasn't the same fear...here was so spaced out, unlike there where it was all enclosed."

Never FearOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora