Make Me Over

Amanda is walking such a tight line between invincibility and vulnerability that she isn't sure this is any better off.

The van roars behind her and she knows she to try.


She wakes up in her garage, confused but ok. She can just make out two pairs of leather boots and the door is closing and she's safe. Embarrassed, but ok. She smiles at the bag of groceries.

Later, she'll find the bottle of pills at the bottom of the bag, most of them accounted for, and a small, curled paper inside, 3 words, scribbled in 3 different handwritings.

We' got you.


After the baseball bat incident, Amanda asks to sleep in the van for the night. Amidst rumbling, a spot appears for her, while her new guardians take up positions around her. She snuggles into the blanket pile on the floor. She pulls a fleece one over her head, hoping the softness of the fabric will discourage another attack. She knows that's foolish, not how this works but she hopes anyway. She's startled to see half-gloved fingers peek in from a small gap near her hand. It stops, flipping palm up and she grabs it, holds it, squeezes tight. The hand squeezes back.

"First watch." She hears someone whisper. She wonders if it's her they're watching.


She's getting ready for bed when another episode hits. There are thorns, massive, sharp, like blades piercing through her legs. She can't walk, can't reach her pills through the excruciating pain. A leg, leather clad and fashionable, appears through her window. The bed sinks in and with it, that tingling relief she feels whenever they're around. The pain begins to subside and she can see through the hallucination to the truth; the unbroken flesh of her shins, she's ok. When she can breathe, Amanda throws her arms around him. She's exhausted and feels herself begin to tilt sideways but he catches her, like they always do.

Martin nods at Vogel, perched on the windowsill, ready to give the word to Cross and Gripps down below.

"Sleep drummer girl, we've got you."