Out of the Woods

(CW: Homophobic slurs)

October 22, 2022

Leigh

“How do you feel about your fourth year, Liv?” The two of us sat at the table on the first floor, nursing cups of low-fat hot cocoa with large marshmallows. Olivia wore her black gloves today, the ones with elastic that morphed to the shape of her wrists, alongside a matching black t-shirt and blue jeans. Her cup was one of Mary’s safe ones, an old mug from a previous graduation year of Almsworth students that had ended up on eBay for a few dollars.

“It sucks, honestly.” Olivia stretched her back out, holding her arms above her head, her shirt being pulled up just far enough to show the smallest bit of the curve of her stomach. She yawned reflexively. “I just… Aunt Bea is still on my ass about finally graduating in the proper way. It doesn’t feel like I’m going to ever be able to leave Dorley Hall. Why can’t she just let me be?”

“You know how she is,” I replied, spinning my marshmallow in the still steaming cup of cocoa, letting it soften and fall further into the brown liquid. “She means well, but she can be incredibly overbearing sometimes.”

“God, why are you so lucky, Leigh?” The shorter girl obviously tried her best, but she still had some ways to go, especially on the chance that she wanted a cis NPH. “This was what you wanted in the first place. I just… I feel like I barely made it over the line.”

“You’re telling me that I wanted to be put in a feminizing torture basement and forcibly made into a transgender woman along with a bunch of boys who all became my sisters?” A sip of the mug. “That’s a bit presumptive, don’t you think?”

“I meant the ‘becoming a woman’ part, idiot.” Olivia reached over and flicked my forehead. “You and Steph were like, actually wanting to be one. The rest of us were just forcibly brought along for the ride.”

“These days, Beth just makes me wonder, to be honest,” I replied, before taking a contemplative sip of cocoa.

“Don’t even fucking start with her, okay?” Olivia let out a heavy sigh between her teeth like a blast from the whistle of a steam engine. “Between her and her fucking intake, the two of them are gonna be the death of me.”

“What did Tyler do?”

“I was already nervous around him, because I’m always nervous around boys like him, trying to help Rabia get through the whole thing. He actually lunged at me through his chains, spooking the shit out of me, and Beth reflexively tased him. And you know what he said after it?”

“What?”

Olivia leaned in close and whispered, “He looked Beth dead in the eyes and said, ‘harder, mommy’. And Beth actually fucking doubled over laughing! She didn’t even give him his first strike until a few minutes later.”

I stifled a laugh. “Bloody hell. So that’s what we’re dealing with. Boys change every year, huh?”

“I fucking guess.” Olivia put her head in her hands. “A part of me hopes the annoying bastard washes out.”

“Sorry, Liv,” I replied.

“You know you can’t save everyone, you know?” Olivia replied. “I get wanting to adhere to Diana’s ideas about washing out, but not every intake has a woman inside of him. Some of them just… break, Leigh. I feel like I’m one of those who broke, who spent the whole intake just trying to find the pieces and put them back together in a woman-shaped puzzle. There are some beyond help. Eventually, you’re gonna need to make a choice, and that choice might damn someone down there. We can’t just expect that we can reform and save every single one of them.”

“Diana just expects that we try. I don’t know what happened to Diana after she washed out, and I don’t fucking care.” I closed my eyes, felt the tension building in my sinuses, and took a few heavy breaths. “I just think this is the most redeemable intake we’ve had so far, and I want to continue the record in the hall.”

“Two years in a row with everyone making it past year one is a miracle by Dorley’s standards, Leigh,” Olivia replied. “Even one year without a washout is usually rare. There hasn’t been a washout since Diana, and we haven’t had someone disappear for good since the mythical ‘Craig’. This perfect streak won’t last forever, and this is the first year back to an expanded intake. This intake also has five first-timers, including you. I don’t mind that you think Jace is irredeemable. He’s one of the most redeemable down there, in my opinion.”

I wanted to respond to her use of pronouns, but even Jace still used the term ‘he’ to describe themselves. I had no place to talk.

“But remember the thing you were discouraging Mia about?” Olivia raised her finger as if to hammer the point home. “You’d effectively be doing the same thing. If you’re not careful, you could get one of our sisters hurt.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Aunt Bea only tolerates our insistence because nothing major has happened, and because Diana coming back pushed us all along. But what if something like what happened to Maria happens again?”

I winced. The memories returned, of what I did. I bring the hot cocoa to my lips, but my hands start trembling and I put the cup down.

“I’ll…”

“I’m sorry, Leigh. I went a bit too far. I’ll change the subject.” Olivia put a freshly manicured finger to her chin, tapping it profusely while making a ‘hmm’ noise. “Well, I think Aunt Bea is approving of my… progress, if you call it that.”

“She’s hardest on the girls who she thinks need the most care,” I said. “That’s you and me.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself. She only puts pressure on you to make sure you keep up your progress.” She flashed me a small, rare smile. “Thanks, by the way, for sticking around with me. After Holly miraculously graduated on time, I thought I’d be left alone. That I’d have to bond more with the fucking third years.”

“I needed the progress,” I lied. “And you DO need to bond with them.” That was the truth. “I do, too.”

“Bullshit." Olivia laughed, a look of disbelief on her face. "I’m 27. I might be contending for the oldest graduate in Dorley history when I finally make it out of here. They’re fucking KIDS to me, Leigh. Hell, you’re only 22 yourself. All of you still got your whole 20s to do whatever you want. I’m… a bit washed up. Old news.”

“You’re 27 in your old identity, Olivia.” I tutted her. “When you leave here, maybe you’ll be, like, 22 or 23, just like me.”

“That’s cold comfort, Leigh. I’ll be 30 before I know it. And I’ll know I’m 30.”

“Yeah, in like… 7 years,” I responded, laughing. “Don’t worry about it so much. You’re a Dorley girl. Time bends a bit for us. For example, Fern.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fern’s a couple years older than me, if you look at our pre-Dorley identities. She came in at 23; I came in at 19. But because of Dorley, I’m going to be a year older than her.” I grinned. “She hates it. SO MUCH.”

Olivia laughed, showing those perfect pearly whites that I was so jealous of. What she lacked in certain aspects of feminine charm, she more than made up for in her care of the little things. “I see what you mean.”

“Plus, Liv, you know something you got that I don’t have?” I leaned in close, my grin widening, my left brow raising. “I’m spoken for. You’re not. If you want… you can sleep around. You can enjoy the fruits of being single. Man, woman, genderqueer, agender, your options are open. And you don’t even have to worry about pregnancy! You can be 23, single, and new in town. You can be whomever you want to be."

“Oh.” The gloved girl blushed, placing her hands over her mouth. “Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I just…” Olivia lowered her hands, looking away. I saw the frown on her face grow deep and sullen. “I miss my ex-wife, Leigh. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. I’m not sure I’ll be able to move on from my mistakes. What I did to her and her boyfriend. Her husband.”

I sighed. Of course, I forgot about Sonia. “I know you still struggle with… everything that’s happened since the start of the program. But you can’t beat yourself up forever.”

“I get how Holly felt when we started the program, you know?” Olivia replied, taking a swig of cocoa like it was a glass of beer. “I feel repentant, fearful. Like everything and everyone around me is made of glass, and my hands can break them with a single touch. Even with the boys, who fill me with disgust at their actions… it’s hard to feel comfortable getting close to them. It feels like I’ll hurt them more than they’ll hurt me. That I’ll destroy them, like I destroyed everyone around me.”

“I have a question. You don’t have to answer it, Liv, but it might be important to think about it if you're not ready to talk about it.” I beckoned her close, to whisper it in her ear.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“That’s fine. We’re family now, Liv; I trust that you’ll be able and willing to talk about it when you feel up to it.”

“Alright.” Liv’s phone rang. “Rabia probably needs me for something. I’ll message you over consensus later, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

---

Jace

“Show us your accent, Jace.”

Gerald leaned at me as he spoke. We had finished breakfast by this point, but decided to stay and chat a bit. Since Tyler and I were still relatively new, it seemed as if we were to be the darlings of the group. Even though I sat far and away from the rest of the crowd at the end of the table furthest from the door, only flanked by Tyler on my left, the boys seemed rather inclined to include me in their merriment. “This is how I talk. I’m from a city, dude. I don’t have the stereotypical Southern accent.” I shrugged. “Maybe I did as a little kid, but it’s gone now.”

And by boys, I meant Gerald and Christian.

“Come on! Southerners are s’posed to talk laik this,” Gerald explained, intentionally trying to drawl out his voice in some facsimile of what Brits thought a Southerner sounded like. “You just sound like… you sound like an American!”

“Well, that’s what I am. Maybe my family talks a bit differently, but I don’t. It’s just how I was raised. Internet might have just destroyed that.”

“Could you maybe show us how they sounded, then?” Tyler spoke up, actually phrasing it like a question and not a pure demand.

“I mean… I guess.” I thought about my mom’s dad and how he sounded, and the videos that I had heard about Appalachian English when I tried to learn how to replicate it. I played around with it in my head for a few moments before the perfect example came to me. “Alright, then. So, this is something like how my granddad sounded." I prepared my throat, moving around my larynx a tad before beginning to ham it up. "‘Hey Jace, I’m firin’ up the truck. Wanna head into town and get some Coke? Matthew’s just got in a new shipment of Nehi, and I’ve got a mighty appetite brewin' for some good orange flavor.’”

The table burst out in laughter as I continued to speak. I gulped down some water to clear my parched throat, and coughed a bit in my recovery.

“Jace, are you some secret Scot or something?” Christian asked out of nowhere.

“No? Maybe my family was Scottish like… 300 years ago, but where did that come from?”

“That accent sounds like one you’d hear there, I don’t know. Next, you’ll tell me you’re a Presbyterian or some shit like that.”

“Well… I am. I was raised Presbyterian, went to those churches pretty much my whole childhood. I think my church was a part of the PCUSA?”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Are there different branches?” He asked.

“Yeah. I don’t know too much about the others, but the PCUSA is a pretty progressive branch.”

“You’re telling me a Presbyterian church is progressive?” Gerald raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. There were a few gay members of my church when I last went. When Pastor Paulsen started preaching, she and my parents had a bit of a falling out and they pulled us out of the church. But my sister took me to some services after she got her license.”

“So it’s a church that allowed fags?” Gerald replied quickly, before looking over his shoulder at the sponsors. I noticed each of them looked rather cross, but the boy looked rather… pleased with himself. “Did they at least… try to stop them?”

“No. They were supportive of their entire congregation,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the boy who was, by this point, wearing a cat-eared hoodie; a skirt; kneehigh socks, and a choker. Not the person you’d think to be so gross about it. “If there had been a transgender member of the congregation, I suppose they would support them as well.”

“Isn’t that… against the Bible, or something?” Christian asked. “I mean, I barely went to church, but even I know they talk about homosexuality in it.”

“I mean… my view is that if it’s a sin at all, it’s like wearing clothing made of multiple fabrics or something. I know they cut the tags out, but what are the odds that these hoodies are made of 100 percent a single fabric?” I held up my right arm, stretched out the sleeve with my left. “If they aren’t, technically, it’s a sin, I guess. I don’t think about it too much. I had a gay older sister. Parents kicked her out over it.”

“They made the right decision, in my opinion,” Gerald replied.

The bile came up in my throat. “What the fuck did you say?” I jumped out of my seat awkwardly, given the design of the table. I noticed the sponsors were now on high alert, several of them reaching for tasers. Tyler, who was sitting next to me, also looked on high alert himself, reaching up to put a hand on my shoulder. I sighed, letting out the tension, but the fucker continued.

“I said they made the right decision. No wonder you’re so pro-gay. You were surrounded by people who made you think it’s okay. They told you what you wanted to hear; we can tell you what you need to hear.”

“Alright, little miss kitty-ears, I don’t think you’re in any place to be homophobic,” I said without thinking. “Considering you look like one of the twinks at my sister’s favorite gay bar right about now.”

“You went, you little poof?”

“Nope, but you look like you’d be right at home there. Did you pick that outfit yourself?” This felt good. I could actually go off on someone without guilt. The little punk seemed riled up.

“I’m not a fucking queer, so no, I didn’t. I’m forced to wear this,” Gerald replied. Around him, the sponsors began to draw near. It seemed as if they were letting him dig his own grave, bit by bit.

“Don’t think I could imagine you in anything else,” I replied, grinning as his scowl deepened, his anger bubbling underneath the surface. I thought of the trashy TV my older sister showed me and channeled the energy of those hosts, voice and all. “Be confident! It’s a good look for you, darling! Maybe with some color, you’d really be able to complete the aesthetic!”

“I’ll paint your face black and blue,” Gerald replied quietly, too quiet for any but the nearest sponsors to hear. He seemed even more annoyed. Maybe I’d get more of a rise. “What do you think of that for some color of your own?”

“Oh, you haven’t had an older sister practice on you? A female friend of any kind? Maybe you’d be more in touch with your masculinity if you got close enough to a girl that they actually trusted you.” The bile was controlling me at this point, and it felt good. The attention that the boys were giving me set my soul to soar for once. Christian and Ritchie were losing their minds with laughter, and Tyler’s hand loosened on mine as he began to succumb to chuckles. Only Henry and Jacob remained stone-faced at this point, and a part of me thought to try and get a rise out of them. I noticed Mia walking up to us, and I added as a final jab, “How about a sponsor?”

“That’s enough, boys.”

Mia walked up to us, and flashed me an intriguing smile. She put a hand on Gerald’s shoulder, and he instantly froze. I felt the energy drain from me, the momentum broken by the intervention of Gerald’s sponsor, and my shoulders relaxed as I slumped forward. I went from elated to deflated within the span of ten seconds.

“Gerald, we heard what you said. Remember what you promised?”

“But Mia, he baited me!” There it was. My heart sank a bit as Gerald referred to me for some reason. “It’s not my fault!”

“But you did start it, Gerald. You insulted Jace’s sister, and you said some pretty queerphobic things. You know what that means, right?”

Gerald blanched. He tried to jump from the table, but Mia had her grip on his incredibly skinny arm. Her hand wrapped all around his wrist, and she held it behind his back.

“It means you’re gonna start some makeup lessons, dear. You’ll have some color of your own on your face.” Most of the table started roaring in laughter. Even Henry, as stoic as he normally was, flashed a smile the way of the doomed boy, who went wide-eyed at the public admission.

“No, no, Mia! Please, don’t tell them! I want to maintain some dignity with my new friends!” Friends seemed like a bit of an overstatement to me. The fact that he was now reduced to a snivelling coward… seemed rather pathetic, especially in comparison to how he was talking just a moment ago. “I’m not going to do it! You can’t make me!”

“You did what you did back then, and I’m gonna show you how difficult it was for those girls to learn what they did on their own, okay?” Mia replied. “Maybe with a bit of sympathy for their plight, you’ll be a better person out there.”

“You know what he did?” Christian jumped up, beaming. “Tell us! Little shit’s been keepin’ that from us since he got here. We’ve told him our sins. Get him to tell us his!”

“In time, Christian,” Mia said, before she let Gerald’s arm go. “Now, sit down, Gerald. Or do I need to make you sit down?” I noticed her other arm already had a taser in it as she stepped back.

Gerald shot back to his seat.

“Good boy. Now stay and chat with the boys. And Christian? You don’t need to push him so much on it. If he doesn’t tell his dear old fwiends…” Mia retreated to a cutesy voice for emphasis. “Well, you might find out some other way. Who knows?”

“I don’t think we’re his friends, love,” Henry replied, to the continued uproar of the table. Even I couldn’t help joining in at that moment, feeling the energy of the conversation carry an infectious laughter through all of us. Gerald quickly dissolved into the mass of male discord cocooned by a harmony of the women that defined their current situation. His defeated stare at the table showed the cruel reality for everyone here: We were putty in their hands. If any of these boys wanted out, it seemed like there were two directions: Through whatever machinations they had planned for these boys, and out through whatever the hell ‘washing out’ meant.

“Hey, Gerald, don’t worry,” Ritchie, who sat next to Gerald on the other end of the table, actually consoled the boy, placing his hand over the curly haired boy’s shoulder. “We’ll get out of here. They’ve promised if we’re good, we’ll get out of here eventually. They can’t keep us here forever. Just endure it and come out the other side. And besides, makeup isn’t so bad! I could teach you what I know!”

The entire table, and several sponsors, stopped dead in their tracks at that admission. Even Ritchie seemed to realize what he had just said.

“Hey, Ritchie… why the hell do you know anything about makeup?” Gerald recoiled from Ritchie, peeling his arm from around his neck and scooting towards Henry, who pushed Gerald back towards Ritchie. I saw the little bastard shudder instead, collecting himself and looking intently at the boy who just admitted a dangerous secret to a crowd of… whatever these people were.

“Well, when you, well…” Ritchie stuttered, likely immediately cognizant of what he’d done to himself by speaking off the cuff. “I did dramatic theatre as a teenager. You have to know how to do stage makeup, and so I practiced with regular makeup a bunch to get used to it.”

“Uh… huh…” Christian did NOT look convinced. In fact, he looked ready to say something that might get him a strike as well.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Tabby suddenly said, putting her hand on Christian’s shoulder and leaning on it. He looked up at her with outrage, but realized a baton was in her other hand, and he grimaced but otherwise let it happen. “Some men use makeup, and some women don’t. I personally don’t like makeup too much.”

I watched Ritchie sheepishly smile, and Henry patted his shoulder and shook him a bit.

“My older sister used to practice on me as well,” I spoke up in kind, volunteering information for some reason. I knew it was stupid to do it, and I wasn’t sure why I was so willing to stick up for this kid, but it was either this or cause a scene. “She hated wearing makeup, but I didn’t really care. Our family was really conservative, and she sometimes had to feign it for long enough to please my family. So… instead of doing it on herself, I let her get a sense of what it was like by doing it on my face.”

“Is this common in the States or something?” Gerald asked. Even Ritchie was raising an eyebrow at this point, but he also mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me.

“Dude, makeup is makeup. It’s whatever. It’s associated with women, but like… have you ever seen a professional wrestler come out in full face paint? Have you ever dressed up for Halloween?” I brought up examples that might resonate with the boys to try and convince them.

“Or drag queens. Many of them identify as men, but they’re just out to have a good time.” Tabby shrugged, releasing her grip on Christian. Some drag kings even use makeup as a way to make themselves look more like men."

“Yeah, but like… I don’t want to end up looking like a fucking drag queen,” Christian interjected. “Those wrestlers are macho men. They’re doing it for flair, or something.”

“Well… professional wrestlers are a lot like theatre actors,” I replied. Ritchie looked at me with outrage, but before he could respond with more than a stuttered utterance, I continued. “They perform under stage lights with flamboyant personas and crazy appearances. Stage makeup is probably just a… a part of the whole performance, isn’t it, Ritchie?”

“Well, I am insulted that you would compare the theatre to a pleasure beach attraction, but…” Ritchie deflated. “Yeah. You would look weird if you weren’t wearing makeup on stage. Even the men wear it. I wanted to understand the differences between the two in order to better understand why it was necessary, so I taught myself through tutorials and the like how to do my own makeup.”

“Oh? You’ve been to the pleasure beaches?” I asked.

“My aunt and her roommate lived in Blackpool. We occasionally went out there to visit; I was one of the only people who didn’t shut her out when she announced she was gay. Snuck out a couple times to go see what the fuss was about,” Ritchie replied, sounding like he genuinely believed that about his relative. “How do you know about the pleasure beaches?”

“I watched a lot of wrestling as a kid. My dad was a huge fan, and so was my sister. There was this guy named William Regal who was billed as being from Blackpool, and when I looked him up they talked about him starting there.”

“Interesting. Wouldn’t expect an American to know about those, but here we are.”

“Still sounds like fairy shit, Rich,” Christian replied.

“Heard that a lot in the school I attended,” Ritchie shot back. “But remember, Chris. What happens when you put a bunch of pent-up teenagers under lights and stress for hours on end and then leave them unsupervised backstage?”

“They fuck.”

“Yes. A LOT.”

“Good on you, you fruity bitch.” Christian looked around at all of us with a mock surprise on his face. “You see? People can surprise you.”

“Christian.” Tabby only had to say his name, and I watched Christian sigh and turn towards his sponsor.

“Yes?” He asked with a shit-eating grin.

“You know what you’re doing. You know what the consequences are if you continue.”

He sighed, grumbled unintelligibly under his breath, and climbed out of his seat. “I’m gonna watch some TV, I guess. Anyone want to join me?”

“I will!” Tyler replied. “C’mon Jace, let’s get the couch before the others do.”

I shrugged, following the two of them to the television slowly, flanked by Tabby; Mia, and a third girl I didn’t really know. We sat down on the couch; me on the left, Tyler in the middle, and Christian on the far right. The television flickered onto a fashion designer competition show, and Christian immediately seemed to settle into a bored stare at the television. Tyler, on the other hand, seemed immediately fascinated by their conversation about the two streetwear outfits; about how each design would ‘send a message’; about the fabrics they would focus their designs around… he was lost in it within minutes.

I took the moments to scan the rest of the room, to see that the boys had left their plates, that the girls were, oddly, cleaning up after them and I.

Jacob was, as usual, tucked into a corner. However, rather than reading a ratty paperback, he now seemed to be at the start of what looked like a primer on… feminist literature? Odd. Wouldn’t have seen that out of him, but it was not unwelcome. Henry was taking a nap in one of the other seats, relaxed into a position that seemed very uncomfortable to me. Ritchie and Gerald were missing from the room, however. Gerald, I understood as a possible punishment. However, Ritchie? That seemed a bit peculiar; I would like that he would be rewarded, based on the book Jacob was reading and the treatment that Gerald got by Mia.

No matter. I nestled myself into the seat, got comfortable, and spaced out alongside them.

---

2022 Sponsor Hellhole

(Mamma Mia has come online.)

Mamma Mia

MAJOR LEVER ALERT.

(LoneWolf has come online.)

LoneWolf

Who?

(DeckTheHalls has come online.)

(Mary Quite Contrary has come online.)

DeckTheHalls

Your boy and Steph’s boy both.

(basement dweller has come online.)

basement dweller

You know I was already there, Mia. I saw what happened.

LoneWolf

You can’t just leave me in the dark about what happened.

Mamma Mia

So, I told Gerald about his punishment for running his mouth as much as he did about transphobic shit.

Told him it was time to start getting used to makeup.

He got really pissy about it and whined to me and all.

basement dweller

Ritchie and Jace both admitted to having experience with makeup growing up.

Mamma Mia

And so

Aww, Steph, I wanted to tell the story.

basement dweller

We gotta get back to Ritchie and Gerald, Mia.

No time for dragging out the story.

(basement dweller has gone offline.)

(Mamma Mia has lost connection.)

DeckTheHalls

Ritchie did theatre as a kid; Jace let his sister practice makeup on him.

LoneWolf

…huh.

DeckTheHalls

You know, this year seems incredibly tame, in comparison to even our year. We’ve got some mouths, but we’ve only ever had Christian and Jacob lash out thus far.

LoneWolf

Well, we’ve already started the shots on everyone except Jace and Tyler, and they’re due in a week or so, anyways.

I think it’s only a matter of time until something happens.

Mary Quite Contrary

When are we going to disclose all of them?

DeckTheHalls

I don’t think we’ve settled on a date to do it. Have we settled on a person?

(Bethany% has come online.)

Mary Quite Contrary

I think it’s quite obvious who we should use as an example.

LoneWolf

Yeah, I think I’d agree with Mary on this one.

DeckTheHalls

You’re just agreeing with her because she’s your girlfriend. You don’t even know who she means.

(Tabby has come online.)

Tabby

That has already been decided by Aunt Bea.

And you can’t just agree with your girlfriend on everything, Leigh.

(Tabby has gone offline.)

LoneWolf

*sighs* Alright.

Mary Quite Contrary

It's okay, Leigh. You can agree with me all you want.

DeckTheHalls

Personal question, though. Don’t mean to change the subject, but I’d like to ask.

Does anyone, like, ever feel like they’re going to slip up, and break someone?

Henry seems so quiet. It’s hard to get to him. But I don’t want to push too hard.

(Tabby has come online.)

Tabby

I think you’re doing fine, Holly. He’s reacted well so far, and you’ve been a very considerate sponsor.

You just have what I’ve heard Steph start calling a ‘mercy case’. You and Leigh both.

LoneWolf

Mercy case?

Tabby

I'd let Steph explain, but she's currently... occupied.

Jace and Henry are both what you would call mercy cases.

Mary, you and Holly were mercy cases from the start.

(Mary Quite Contrary has gone offline.)

Tabby

Melissa was also a mercy case, and you could consider Faye as having been a mercy case, too.

These would be boys who wouldn’t otherwise fit the criteria due to missing some key elements of what we look for, but who were going to self-destruct imminently if we didn’t intervene.

Sometimes, as has been the case with Melissa, calling them a boy would be charitable.

With Henry, we were able to catch him before he ‘detonated’, so to speak. Mary, that kinda goes for you, too. When both of you went off, you were already in our care, and the damage you could do to yourselves or others was minimal. Jace was lucky that we found him in time. Beth’s quick thinking did wonders then.

Bethany%

Well, thank you.

Tabby

On average, mercy cases do not actualize very quickly.

There are exceptions, but the mercy cases often need significant support before they open up their shells.

I don’t think there’s any alarm, Holly.

You just have a tougher shell to crack before Henry will move forward.

DeckTheHalls

Alright. Thanks, Tabby.

Tabby 👍

(Tabby has gone offline.)

---

????

“Hey, Christine, you’re coming with me,” I said, slithering my arms over the top of her shoulders and gripping her tightly into a hug, my arms resting on her sternum.

The coffee was brewing and creating a beautiful smell, mixing with the browning butter that the second years were working on in the first steps of preparation for Aunt Bea’s birthday. But that didn’t matter. Christine’s lifeblood could wait like ten minutes.

“I need some more caffeine before I deal with this. What do you want, gremlin?” She asked, quickly ducking her head out of my grip to free herself.

“We need to talk. Privately. It’s something I forgot to tell you guys,” I replied. Christine turned back to me, raising her eyebrow.

“What the fuck could you have forgotten to tell me?” She half-shouted, startling the second years for the brief moment before the sputtering butter returned their attention to their cooking.

I leaned in her ear and whispered, “It’s about my sibling.”

Christine’s eyes widened. Definitely had her attention there. “Alright, then.” She smacked her face with her hand, before recoiling in a small bit of pain.

I giggled at my sponsor’s lack of coordination. “Hey, Teenie, can’t do it too hard!”

“I know, Maia. Just… come on.”

Maia

Now it was her grabbing me by the scruff of my blouse and moving me along towards the rooms. I flashed her a great smile and said, “Being a bit forward, aren’t we, miss?”

“Pipe down until you tell me what you need,” Christine replied. “And then you can get me my coffee.”

“Three sugars and four creams, got it!” My sponsor groaned.

Once towards my room, she pressed her thumb and softly threw me inside. I spun around, for great effect, before collapsing atop my bed with a soft thud. She closed the door behind me, activated the lock with an elongated press of her thumb, and got up towards me.

“Okay, Maia. Spit it out.”

“You’re going to want to disclose Tyler as soon as possible.” My smile melted. For once, I’d be serious.

“We know that Tyler knows what an oestradiol shot looks like, Maia. Did you not think we did?” Christine asked. “You have sorely underestimated the other party in all this if that’s the case, Maia. We’re gonna fuckin’ talk to him after he gets his shot!”

I whispered in Christine’s ear, and watched on my left as her eyelids slowly widened.

“D-did he-” Christine put her hand over her mouth. The metaphorical light bulb seemed to have gone off in her head.

“Yep.” I smiled. “That’s honestly what started this whole thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“We couldn’t afford both food and medicine, Christine. I couldn’t work, and he was working multiple jobs while I tried to keep the house tidy. I decided, once I found out about you, to disappear. If I could get a lifetime supply of the stuff for free, I was gonna do what I had to to get it, and then I'd pull Tyler out of that situation as soon as I could, if he needed to. And he sure as hell did. And now I sure as hell have.”

“You’re actually insane, Maia. You know that, right?” Christine replied. “We could’ve killed you for doing what you did!”

“But you didn’t!” I cackled. “Here I am now, sitting on a bed with someone I consider my equal, laughing about what I’ve done to get this far. I took a bet on my life, and it worked out. I also bet on Tyler staying alive for a couple years, and he did that just fine. So, now, I want you to return the favour. Don’t tell him anything about me. I want that to be a funny surprise.” My smile widened. I kicked my feet over the side of the bed, bouncing my calves against the bed frame. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“You understand that your selfishness might warp an entire group of intakes, Maia.”

“I do.” I leaned closer to Christine. “But I think Tyler needed our help. I needed your help. And I do my damnedest to help you make sure the security of this place is up to the challenge. Do you remember what happened when I got here?”

“I do…” Christine sighed. I frowned; I didn’t want her to feel bad, but…

“I rag on you because I care, Christine. I’m your younger sister now. And Tyler is going to be your younger sister too.” I hold my arms out to beckon a hug. She leaned forward and gripped me tightly in one, and I folded my arms around her. I felt her shaking underneath my arms. “This isn’t to make you feel bad. This programme saved my life. And I think it’s gonna do wonders for them too. All of them. And you can’t beat yourself up for that, Christine. You’re fantastic at your job… I’m just better.”

“Fuck off, you little demon.” A giggle in her voice. A tighter hold on me. I wheezed.

“Christine… a little tight…”

She loosened up, but not enough for it to be anything but tight. I gasped for air.

“You asked for a hug, Maia. I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

“Fair enough. Just…” I released my arms, letting them fall limp over Christine’s. “You’re an amazing sponsor, and your operations security is top-notch, okay? You… and the PMCs, I guess, are the reason that Dorley Hall didn’t suffer some insane data breach by now and destroyed the whole damn thing before I had a chance to take advantage of it.”

“They offered me a job once I graduate from Almsworth, you know.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“Nah. I’ve considered it, but I realized the freedom that Dorley gives me as a part time gig would be too great.” Christine finally released me; I found us staring into each others’ eyes. She had gotten a lot better at making neat ponytails over the years, and what little makeup she wore only served to highlight her beautiful blue-green eyes; her strong cheekbones, and her wonderful, awkward smile. “Plus, I’d miss all the amazing girls who come through this hellhole. And Aunt Béa would be… she’d probably struggle at this point.”

“Why would you tell me this, Christine?” I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve normally been cagey about all this around me.”

“‘Cause Aunt Béa trusts you now. You’ve put something in the water to make her go along with things. Maybe she views Tyler as a pawn she can use against you. Or, perhaps, she’s getting on in years, and wants to retire at some point soon.” I watched her face quickly fall. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Oooh, blackmail!~” I replied in a sing-song voice. “Don’t worry, Teenie. I am not the type to squeal on something like that. Besides, I don’t think Tante Valérie would have it for at least another decade.”

“How come?” Christine asked.

“Have you heard her in the kitchen, Teenie?” I replied, reminded of her escapades in teaching the second years the ins and outs of French cuisine. “She’s concerned that Aunt Béa’s heart will stop if she doesn’t keep moving!”

Christine rolled her eyes at the prospect, her smile unwavering. “So, you think that she’ll be here for a little while longer now?”

“Oh, yeah,” I replied. “Do you think you’ll be here for a while?”

“I think Paige has… accepted the life that we have as Dorley girls.”

“Even if we annoy the shit out of you?”

“Especially because you annoy the shit out of me.” She rustled my hair before standing up. “You’re my little sisters. You’re supposed to be annoying. Now… let me get my fucking coffee, and you get back to your voice training, okay?”

“Alright…” I whimpered for a moment, my time with Teenie drawing to a close for now. I cleared my throat and looked directly into her eyes and mustered the best girl voice. “Love you, big sis.”

“That’s much better. You’re doing great, little sis. Love you.”

---

June 27, 2016

Jace

The foam separators kept my fingers spaced apart as my older sister went to town with nail polish at the kitchen table. The two of us had the entire home to ourselves; school had just let out for the summer a few weeks ago, and the suburb was full of old couples. There was nobody in the surrounding vicinity for us to go play with, and Autumn had just lost her privileges to her car for a week, so we were stuck together in a spacious but empty home with our devices and an expectation to socialize.

“Thanks for letting me paint your nails, little bro,” Sandra said to me, smiling as she wiped the cool polish onto my left pointer finger. It was a plain red. “I really appreciate you letting me practice with your hands. Mom’s really been on my ass to be more feminine lately.”

“No problem,” I replied. “Nail polish comes off really easily. And honestly? I enjoy the bonding time.”

“I’m glad,” Autumn said, sighing and starting on my thumb. “Their expectations are just too crushing on me. They want me to start dating, meet a nice boy, settle down, have children… I’m only 17. They still have living grandparents, for god’s sake. I just want to focus on my studies. I’ve got good grades; I’m a cheerleader; I’m going to apply my butt off to schools so I can get a good scholarship; what more do they want?”

“Grandkids, probably,” I replied dryly. When it was just my sister and I, I could actually let my feelings out. I felt a bit of polish on my finger, rather than the nail, and looked down at it. “Seems like you missed.”

Autumn chuckled awkwardly. “I’m so sorry,” she replied. She pulled out a cotton swab, dipped it in a small cup of remover, and deftly moved around the curvature of where thumb met the nail to wet the polish before removing it with a paper towel.

“No worries. I’m here to let you practice, okay?” I replied, giggling at the cooling sensation of the remover. “I want to help you get better. Plus, I can learn how to do it from you.”

“Oh, you reminded me of something. You know what, Jace?” Autumn suddenly posited, looking at me with a serious glare.

“What?” I suddenly felt a chill run up my spine. I saw a bit of my dad’s sternness in her, the glance that precedes an explosion of yelling, but with wild, heat-curled brown locks rather than the balding, thin strands that my father called my future.

It suddenly turned to a smile. “Sometimes, I wonder if you would’ve been the better girl,” she said. “You always seem so interested in being my test dummy.”

I felt a blush creep up on my face. Me? Never. “That’s crazy,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m Jason Thomas Rogers III. Junior varsity men’s runner for our high school. I can’t be a girl; my team needs me. Our parents wouldn’t allow it.”

“Just a thought, you know?” Autumn replied. “Have you ever asked what mom would’ve named you if you had been my little sister?”

“Honestly, when I asked she just said I would’ve had your name if you’d been a boy, and you’d have mine. They said to me they knew that one of us would be male, and the other female. That’s how it always worked in our family.”

“Shoot,” Autumn said, pouting. “Well, maybe I’ll just make a name for you.”

“W-why would you do that?” I asked, suddenly feeling breathlessness, but instead of the dread I expected, it was a freeing lightness that pulled upwards, keeping the pit inside me at bay, sucking the air out of my lungs.

“I mean, you never liked being named after grandpa. You’ve gone by Jace since you were a kid,” Autumn said. “I think you’d make the better girl between the two of us, to be quite honest. Plus, I’m not dumb like the parents are. Who do you think clears your search history after you?”

My face blanched. “It’s not what you think, sis,” I explained, sputtering out. “I just… it’s something I really really like…”

“Nothing wrong with it, you know.” Autumn smiled understandingly. “You’re looking up female versions of your male characters and trans memes and things like that. You’ve played the girl in every Pokemon game since childhood. I’ve heard you dolling up your voice on calls you have with your friends, the parents reminding you to 'lower your voice', and things like that. I'm not stupid. I just… don’t think the parents will be okay with it.”

I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I know they wouldn’t be. But they’ve never said anything before, about my search history, I mean.”

“You know, it’s because they’re all talk when it comes to the internet. They talk about monitoring our internet behavior, but they don’t even look at the search history. They just use the family computer, and if something suspicious shows up on the search bar…” Autumn mimes a throat being slit. “Remember when I got yelled at for my internet usage? It’s ‘cause they caught me red-handed once. And I’ve made sure they never caught you for anything.”

“T-thanks, sis,” I said, my voice shaky. “I just… I know that this wouldn’t comport with the plans they have for us, you know?”

“You mean the plan where you marry a local woman and become a good ol’ boy southern lawyer, and the one where I’m a college cheerleader who decides she wants to settle down with the quarterback of the high school football team and be his stay-at-home wife? No fuckin way.” She looked back down at my nails. “We can keep talking, but I’d like to work on your right hand now.”

I was thankful for the spacers, because otherwise, my hands would be shaking up a storm. “What else would I be, then?” I asked.

“Whatever you want, I guess.” She painted my opposing thumb. “How about this? If you’d be my younger sister, what follows Autumn?”

“Winter?” I said, unsure how to follow, the heat rising in my face. “You’re saying that I’d be Winter?”

“Yep, you’d be Winter,” Autumn replied, painting my ring finger. “We’ll keep it between us if you’d like. How do you feel about being Winter Rogers, little sister of Sandra Autumn Rogers?”

That lightness soared through me. I felt an electric jolt run down the length of my spine. “I… I think I like that name,” I replied. “I like it a lot.”

“For now, we’ll keep that a secret, okay? No matter what, from now on, little sis, you’re Winter to me. And I will go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you’re safe.”