Five months had passed since that dream, since those fantasies. Five long and painful months. Five months of fantasy being more realistic, more honest than reality, at least from Fox's perspective.
At least she was by his side. Krystal. His one anchor keeping him from reaching deep inside the dark bowels of his pain and madness, the lifevest keeping him from sinking into the depths of whatever madness that was gripping him, the light that shown the way to recovery. It was she who woke him from that dream. It was she who stood by his side while the others went off to war. It was she who kept him from spiraling out of control. It was she who saved him, who rescued him from the monsters within his tormented mind. It was she who he feared the most.
"Morning Fox."
Fox cowered in the corner when the vixen entered the room. Of all the monsters, all the villains, all the horrors he faced in his tormented life as a mercenary, she was the only one who Fox ever truly feared.
It wasn't her cruelty. No. She only showed her crueler, more sadistic side on the battlefields of space, performing her duty as team member and protecting those she depended on. At home, she was sweet and caring, almost motherly to him.
It wasn't any feelings she may have been hiding. No. Fox knew she wasn't hiding any anger, and resentment, any jealousy or hatred from him. She may be very sadistic, very barbaric in battle, but Fox knew the warm smile she wore at home was no mask.
It could be the memories. Him forcing her off the team, taking away her livelihood, her purpose in life. The apologies and rejections. The betrayels. But as likely as it was, Fox knew the memories weren't why he feared her.
It was him. It was the pain. It was the horrors that grew deep inside his mind. It was just another way his madness was hurting him, killing him with sadistic pleasure.
And she knew it. She knew about his pain. She knew about the horrors lurking in his head. She knew about the madness.
And that's why she stook by him, abandoning the thrills of warfare and slaughter in general for the challenges of love. She loved him, even after he took away from her everything she ever wanted. She wanted him to get better. She wanted to fix him. She had to fix him. He was sick and she was his medicine, the cure for whatever ailed his tormented mind. She didn't know how to fix him, but she wasn't going to abandon her patient and lover or trust who could turn out to be a con artist, taking her money and leaving him to die cold and alone somewhere. She was going to stick by his side no matter what and help him in any way she could.
Not that he wanted her to. Fox knew he was sick, tormented by whatever disease his brain had created to infect itself with, but he wasn't ready for the cure. He loved her. He wanted her more than anything. Which was why he wanted her gone.
Krystal giggled as she laid her eyes on the scared fox. Shivering in the corner, eyes glued on her as if he expected her to try something. She found him cuter than ever. She just had to hug him.
Fox wanted to do something, anything, to get away but couldn't. His arms were bound tightly but comfortably in a straightjacket. His legs were bound in a sack of some sort, with buckles keeping his legs together. A muzzle she placed around his mouth kept him from biting her or his restraints or from begging for release and solitude. She made sure he knew he wasn't going anywhere, that she was going to fix him, to cure him, and that he wasn't going to interfere with the treatments.
Picking him up, she carried him to her room and placed him carefully on the bed. Stripping down to her underwear, Krystal got into the bed with him and pulled the covers over the two of them. Holding him tightly against her, she looked deep into his terrified, sleep deprived eyes.
"Goodnight, Fox."