Something Real to Cling To
Chapter Two: A Little Help With the Agony
Summary: Thanks to Shilo, Blind Mag survives the Genetic Opera, although she still loses her eyes. Shilo is now alone…except for her now wounded godmother and the man who robs graves, sells Zydrate, and has an inexplicable interest in her.
Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera, unless we're talking about a copy of the DVD or the soundtrack.
Pairings: Shilo/Graverobber, Shilo/Mag
Author's Notes: Okay, I lied about the pairings in the first chapter. This story was originally going to have only hints of Shilo/Mag, partly because some of Shilo's behavior in the movie towards Mag screams "celebrity crush" to me…but my muses disagreed with the "only hints" idea. I hate it when my brain has a mind of its own.
Shilo was woken from eye-ripping, blood-dripping nightmares by a low cry of pain. The effects of the acetaminophen/codeine only lasted for eight hours, and now Mag was awake. "Shilo?" Her voice was hoarse; her arms tightened around the girl.
"I'm here, Mag. Does it hurt?"
Mag's hands closed on Shilo's arms so hard Shilo yelped. "I need more medicine."
Shilo swallowed. "I can get you some."
"Hurry."
Shilo hugged Mag tightly. "I will. But you need something that won't just knock you out. You can't just sleep."
"I know you're right, but I would take more sleep right now," Mag whispered through clenched teeth.
I can only imagine the pain she's in, Shilo thought, shivering. "I'll be fast."
Mag only nodded, concentrating on not crying out.
Shilo hurried to dress as quickly as she could. She knew that the only painkiller kept in the house that was strong enough for Mag was the codeine, and Mag couldn't simply be asleep until her eye sockets healed. She needed something more powerful than anything Shilo had that wouldn't knock her out.
She needed Zydrate. And Shilo knew a dealer…if only she could find him. Once she was clothed, she ran to the kitchen to fetch a painkiller made from acetylsalicylic acid for Mag, to take the edge off her pain until Shilo got back.
Shilo thought she remembered the route the sanitation truck had taken from the alley where the Graverobber had been selling Zydrate. Considering she had only been into that part of the city once, it was easy to tell whether or not a street looked familiar, and it wasn't long before she found the alley. She thought she picked out a male silhouette in the shadows… "Graverobber?"
A man who was very much not Graverobber emerged from the darkened corner. Even from that distance, Shilo could see that his pupils were nothing more than tiny black pinpricks. He leered at her. "No, but you lookin' to score, sugar?"
Shilo backed up. "No, I…"
The man didn't get more than a few steps before Graverobber himself stepped out from beneath a fire escape and elbowed the man in the face. The man spluttered and stumbled backwards, blood dripping from his nose. Graverobber stepped forward. "Kid? What are you doing here?"
Shilo clutched her bag to her chest, an instinctive movement of self-defense, still spooked by what had just happened so suddenly. While she hesitated, Graverobber spoke again. "You're lucky it's the morning. You'd have been dead meat if you'd decided to come down here alone at night."
Shilo swallowed hard. "It…it's about Mag."
Graverobber's almost scolding expression softened. "Yeah, you were a big fan, weren't you? She disappeared last night. Nobody knows what happened to her after that for sure."
"I know what happened," Shilo whispered. "She's at my house."
Graverobber walked over to her, now looking puzzled. "How the hell did she end up there?"
Shilo felt heat prickling at her eyes. "I brought here back there after she…she…"
"Tore out her own eyes. It was in The Daily Slice. But what possessed her to go with you? She doesn't know you, does she?"
Shilo choked back a sob. "She's my godmother." Tears began to slide down her cheeks and she couldn't think how to stop them. "She's so hurt, she's in so much pain now…"
Through her clouded vision, she didn't see Graverobber approach her even closer, didn't see the changing expression on his face as he made a rather awkward decision, and so was surprised when she found herself abruptly wrapped in a crushing embrace. "Jesus, kid, don't cry. It's okay."
From the way the female Zydrate addicts acted around Graverobber, Shilo could gather that he was probably a skilled lover, but as she was currently finding out, he also gave really good hugs. He squeezed her tightly, like he genuinely meant to comfort her. "She's alive," he added. "The Repo Man would've done far worse."
The mental image of her father taking out Mag's eyes made Shilo's stomach churn; she forced the image to the back of her mind. "She's in a lot of pain. She…she needs Zydrate." Her flow of tears began to slow. "That's why I came. I'm sure she can pay. I mean, she's Blind Mag."
Graverobber let go of Shilo; she felt cold all of a sudden. "She probably needs real Zydrate. Synthesized-in-a-lab Zydrate."
"But it's not like we can get it from GeneCo!" Shilo cried. "The Largos would kill her if they found out. And it would take too long."
Graverobber exhaled slowly through his nose. "Okay. Come with me."
He led her to a car which, to her infinite surprise, was an older model of GeneCop car. When he saw Shilo's startled expression, he shrugged and said "They aren't going to bother me if they think I'm one of them."
Instead of asking how he'd gotten a hold of a GeneCop car for himself, Shilo got in, buckled her seatbelt, and instructed Graverobber on how to get to the Wallace residence. It was a short drive, and Graverobber had barely pulled up to the gate when Shilo leapt from the car and ran for the front door. "Dammit, kid! Don't trip over yourself!"
Shilo waited impatiently for him at the front door—leaving the gate wide open—and unlocked the front door and flew up the steps as soon as Graverobber caught up to her. With a rather irritated sigh, he followed. He saw Shilo rush into a bedroom that was obviously hers, despite the odd décor (a skeleton and an insect collection…not exactly typical for a teenage girl, but interesting) and where Blind Mag was lying on the bed. Graverobber had never seen Mag sing live, but of course he'd seen her on the screens and in magazines, draped in glamorous costumes and glossed in makeup. Seeing her weak, half-conscious and with her eyelids collapsed over empty, blood-rimmed sockets was certainly odd. He could barely overhear what Shilo was saying…
"Mag? Mag, I'm back. I brought you Zydrate." Shilo squeezed Mag's hand.
"Zydrate? How…" Mag tensed as Graverobber walked over. "I hear footsteps."
"It's okay," Shilo insisted. "I brought him. He's…well, he's a grave robber."
"Shilo, you brought a grave robber in here? How do you know he can be trusted?"
"Standing right here," said Graverobber irritably.
"He's helped me before. We can trust him."
"Kid, I'd better show you something." Graverobber beckoned to Shilo, and she followed him to her desk, where he removed a Zydrate gun and several vials of the glowing blue drug from pockets in his long jacket. "You're probably going to be giving her Zydrate for a while, so you'd better learn how to do this. I can loan you one of my Zydrate guns for a small fee. Now watch closely." He held up one of the guns and showed her a small dial on one side. "The highest it can go is two hundred microliters. With street Zydrate, two hundred is the highest dose you can get out of one vial. More than that will kill almost anybody. You don't want Mag tripping balls, so you shouldn't give her anything close to two hundred. Has she ever used before?"
"Once." That was Mag, who was carefully listening to everything that was being said. "Amber injected me with it. It…wasn't by choice."
"So you don't have any tolerance for it, then."
"No."
"Okay…" Graverobber turned back to the Zydrate gun and rotated the dial so it was set to a hundred microliters. "Fifty is probably the minimum dose for minor surgery…but she probably needs more."
"I'd say so," replied Mag dryly.
Shilo nodded.
Graverobber loaded the gun. "Don't worry, kid, it's easy. Just watch." He paused to address Mag. "I'm giving you the Zydrate now." He went to Mag's bedside and made as if to inject the drug into a vein in her leg, like Shilo had seen him do with the Zydrate addicts in the alley. Mag flinched suddenly.
"What are you doing?" Mag recoiled, trying to sit up and gritting her teeth in pain from the movement.
"I said I was going to give you the Zydrate." Graverobber sounded rather annoyed.
Mag held her right arm out, prone with her veins exposed, obviously asking for the injection to be in her arm. Graverobber shrugged. "Veins in the leg are bigger." But he gave her the shot in her outstretched arm. "You're Blind Mag. I know you can afford this."
Mag took a deep breath, letting the painkiller take hold before speaking. "I don't have any money with me now. Shilo took me here straight from the Genetic Opera. But in exchange for this, I can pay you twice the going rate for Zydrate tonight."
Graverobber shrugged. "Won't be necessary."
"I can bring you the money," Shilo piped up.
"I don't want you going out alone, Shilo," said Mag sternly, sitting up. "What's your name?"
The question seemed to startle Graverobber. "I don't use one. Just call me Graverobber."
Shilo had a feeling that if Mag still had eyes, she would be glaring, or at least looking at Graverobber with disdain. "If you would please come back here tonight at eight, I will have money ready for you."
"It's going to be three hundred credits, a hundred and seventy-five of which are for a month-long loan of the Zydrate gun," Graverobber informed her.
Mag nodded. "Thank you."
Shilo squeezed Graverobber's arm. "Yes…thank you."
Graverobber allowed himself a small smile. He would have never pictured himself standing in a rather upscale house after giving a Zydrate injection to Blind Mag, yet that was what he was doing, and it wasn't even ten AM. The day was shaping up to be interesting. "You're welcome."
Shilo climbed onto the bed and hugged Mag. "Do you feel better?"
"Much. A little…sleepy, but it doesn't hurt anymore."
"Good," Shilo whispered, resting her head on Mag's shoulder. It was only when she heard the footsteps proceeding down the stairs that she realized she hadn't properly said goodbye to Graverobber. "Wait a second. I'll be right back."
Shilo raced downstairs and caught up with Graverobber just as he was approaching the gate. "Wait!"
He paused. "What is it, kid?"
"I just…I wanted to thank you. We'll get you the money tonight, I promise."
He held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "It's okay. I believe you."
"And…thank you for helping. Not just for the Zydrate." Shilo swallowed hard. "I'm…I'm scared."
"Scared? Of what?" Graverobber was facing her now, no longer in the process of leaving.
Shilo blinked rapidly. "Rotti Largo killed my father last night. Before that I'd never left the house except for going to Mom's grave. Now I have Mag, but she's so hurt, and I've never had to do anything like this before, and I'm scared…"
"Hey, kid, calm down." He took her by the shoulders. "Yeah, that does sound scary as hell. The world is scary as hell. But it gets better once you get used to it."
Shilo sniffled. "I know. It's just all so much, so fast…"
Graverobber frowned. Comforting crying young women was not his strong suit. "Do you want some Zydrate?"
Shilo made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. "No…no. I don't think it's for me." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "And…my name's Shilo."
"Shilo," he repeated. "Okay. See you tonight…Shilo." After a brief hesitation, Graverobber took Shilo's left hand and kissed it, then he was out the gate without another word.
Shilo stood there for a few minutes, her knees shaking slightly. Graverobber had blown her a kiss after helping her home from the mock Italian Renaissance festival, and he had given her a hug after she had come to him for Zydrate, but she had assumed that it was nothing more than a passing interest. But now he had seen her fear, seen what she was dealing with…and he still seemed interested. That thought only sunk in as she was finally ascending the stairs, and the first thing that came to her mind after that was: Dad would never let me see him…
She gasped aloud at the thought that her father was gone, that he would never forbid her from doing anything again…and now she would have freedom, she would be well soon…but he was still her father, and she still missed him, and the knowledge that he was dead was going to hit her over and over until she fully accepted that he was gone, and how long was that going to take?
Shilo was crying openly when she got back to her bedroom. "Shilo?" Mag was up, and mobile, and walking towards Shilo's voice. Shilo ran to Mag and flung her arms around her, burying her face in the front of the nightgown. Mag hugged Shilo back, rocking her gently. "What's wrong?"
"I miss Dad," Shilo choked.
"I can imagine," Mag sighed. "It's all right, Shilo. Go ahead and cry."
Shilo did, for a long while, and Mag never once complained even when Shilo's tears soaked through the nightdress. When Shilo had stopped weeping, Mag still held her. "Feel better?"
"Yes."
"We should eat. You might feel better with some food in you."
Shilo nodded. She knew where the kitchen was, and she knew how to make a few things; when she had first learned how to pick the lock on her bedroom door started sneaking out of her room while her father was at work (repossessing organs…!), part of the reason for her escape was that she was hungry, and she had learned to work the microwave and the toaster oven.
"I can get you to the kitchen…oh. Should I show you around the house? Teach you where everything is?"
"Please. If you could somehow make a map with raised lines so I can feel them, that would be very helpful too. Right now I'd prefer to eat, if that's all right."
"Okay." Shilo let go of Mag. "The kitchen is downstairs. Do you need me to…?"
Mag extended a hand; Shilo took it. "Your mother used to lead me around like this. Most of my friends did."
"Okay, I can do that." Shilo led Mag downstairs and sat her down at the kitchen table. "What do you like for breakfast? I can't make much; toast, oatmeal, English muffins, or we could have cereal…" she trailed off, walking to the refrigerator.
"Do you have butter or jam for the toast?"
"Yeah; we have peach, grape and strawberry jam."
"Shilo…I'm not used to not having my sight…I don't know if I'll be much help…"
"Oh, it's fine! It's fine. I can make you toast."
"Thank you, Shilo. I don't want to be a burden on you, especially after all you've lost."
"Mag, you're my godmother. You're not a burden." On an impulse, Shilo went back to Mag and hugged her. Mag was a bit surprised—after all, she hadn't seen Shilo coming—but returned the embrace.
"It's good to be here with you." Mag touched Shilo's hair gently, not knowing it was a wig. "It has been a long time since I had somebody to love. I'm…glad I could finally fulfill my promise to your mother to be a part of your life."
"Me too." Shilo took a step backward. "Okay…so do you want toast? What kind of jam?"
"Strawberry, please, Shilo."
Shilo made herself and Mag two pieces of toast each, spreading Mag's toast with strawberry jam and her own with peach. She poured them both glasses of orange juice—her father had always been adamant about her getting enough vitamin C—and sat down to eat. Mag thanked her and set about eating her toast hungrily. Shilo wondered when the last time Mag ate was.
Mag ate steadily until she was halfway through her second piece of toast, then paused. "Shilo?"
"Yes?"
"After we eat, we should go to my house. No doubt GeneCo will soon clean it out and…and sell all my things or some such. I need my clothes, and I have many things there I don't want to part with…"
"Okay. How do we get there?"
Mag paused and took another bite of toast, waiting until she had swallowed to speak again. "You'll have to call a taxi. It's too far to walk, especially if we'll be carrying things. I might be recognized…but that's a risk we'll have to take. Perhaps if I wear a hood…"
"I can find something to bandage your eyes…um, sockets," Shilo offered.
"We should go to the bank first. I can only hope GeneCo hasn't emptied out my account…I'll have to withdraw everything I have. They'll know I did it, but I'm sure they know I'm alive." Mag sighed and held out a hand to Shilo, the way she had when Shilo first offered to lead her down the stairs. Shilo took it. "Shilo, I am afraid I am a danger to you. Technically I have fulfilled my contract with GeneCo by removing my eyes after my last song for them, but I was not intended to survive the repossession, and GeneCo will want me dead now because it was their intention. At least, Rotti wanted me dead. No doubt whoever takes over GeneCo will…want to carry out his wishes. And you may be caught in the crossfire, so to speak, if GeneCo catches up with me. Since the things I have to do today will alert GeneCo to the fact that I'm still…functional, and they may find out where I am staying, so I must exact a promise from you."
"What is it?" asked Shilo, mystified.
Mag's eyelids twitched over their empty sockets. "If GeneCo comes for me, and I tell you to run, to leave me, you must. I would hate to think I caused the death of my innocent goddaughter. I would hate to die with that thought in my head."
"Don't talk like that!" Shilo cried, almost hysterical. "I just lost Dad; I don't want to think about losing you too!"
Mag stroked Shilo's hand. "We'll be careful. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe…by keeping myself hidden."
After they were finished eating, Shilo tore strips from an old dress that didn't fit anymore and fashioned one into a comfortable bandage for Mag. She also braided Mag's hair so it would be easier to hide under a long hooded coat that Shilo had found in a closet. Nathan had also kept most of his late wife's clothes, so Mag was able to wear one of Marni's old dresses. Shilo called a cab company for a ride, and it arrived soon after Mag was dressed.
"Take us to GeneCo Bank, please."
The driver grunted and turned the ignition. Mag and Shilo sat in silence while they drove; Shilo stared out the window, as she had never seen the area of the city where they were driving. She began trembling as she thought of how much she had missed, able to see nothing more of the world than the view from her window; Mag somehow noticed her shaking and took her hand.
When they arrived at the bank, Shilo tried to follow Mag to the ATM. Mag stopped her. "I don't want you on the cameras. Did you bring that bag I asked you to?"
"Yes." Shilo handed her godmother a tote bag.
"Thank you. You can wait in the taxi; I'll only be a moment." Shilo went back to the vehicle and watched through the window as Mag emptied her account and quickly scooped all of the money she had to her name into the bag. Shilo noticed that Mag carefully touched every key on the ATM keyboard before pressing it; were the numbers raised so she could feel them? She slipped back into the car and quickly gave further instructions to the driver.
Mag's house was a good distance from the bank. Shilo actually gasped aloud when they drove up to the gate; GeneCo had given their "voice" a massive, luxurious place to live. Mag's house—more aptly described as a mansion—was sprawling and glossy, surrounded by an impeccably manicured lawn and colorful flower gardens.
"Shilo? Will you help me?"
"Oh—of course."
Shilo held Mag's hand as they walked up to the gate and Mag gave voice authorization for it to open. Shilo led Mag up the long, winding walkway, but Mag stopped her at the front doorway. She quickly shucked off the long, hooded coat and handed it to Shilo. "You should put this on."
"Why?" asked Shilo, mystified.
"There are cameras and microphones everywhere in here. I don't want them to see that you're with me. And if you want to talk to me, whisper."
"Cameras and microphones?" Shilo repeated, incredulous. "They spy on you in your own house?"
"This isn't my house. It's…GeneCo's gilded cage for their songbird."
When Shilo had put on the coat and flipped up the hood, she slipped her hand back into Mag's and squeezed gently.
"There's a key in the right pocket. I can't undo the lock without seeing it. Would you mind…?"
"No, of course not." Shilo unlocked the door and let herself and Mag in.
The inside of the house was even more extravagant then the exterior. Shilo felt tempted to ogle her surroundings, but the fact that she knew they were filled with privacy-invading technology spoiled their beauty.
"How are you going…?" Mag's hand tightened on Shilo's before she could finish the sentence, and Shilo realized she'd been speaking aloud. "How are you going to bring everything you need to my house?" Shilo tried again, whispering.
"Hardly any of this is mine," Mag murmured. "All glitz and glamour from GeneCo. There are only a few things I need."
Mag directed Shilo to her bedroom, which was more like a suite than simply a bedroom. Mag seemed to know her way around well enough because she was so familiar with the area, but when it came to selecting which clothes to bring with her, Mag needed Shilo's help.
"The top drawer is socks and scarves, yes?"
"Yep." Shilo felt almost somewhat like an interloper looking through Mag's dresser, but Mag had asked her to be of assistance.
"Take a few pairs of black and a few pairs of blue socks, and maybe one pair of white. And…the emerald green scarf, and the black one. Maybe the gold one."
Shilo obeyed and carefully deposited the items in a suitcase Mag had dug out of her closet. They went through the rest of the dresser quickly, with Mag choosing only a few garments from each drawer. The drawers were not at all full and did not contain any of the clothes Mag wore to appear in public; while Mag was always on the screens wearing flashy, elaborate dresses, the clothes in the dresser were simple in style and pattern, mostly solid, dark colors. Shilo saw jeans, trousers, T-shirts, and the occasional sundress or long skirt. "Mag? I've never seen you…wearing any of this…"
"No…you wouldn't have. These aren't Blind Mag's clothes. These belong to Magdalene Defoe. She…I…was only allowed to keep a few of them."
Shilo assumed that was Mag's birth name. As avid a Blind Mag fan as she was, Shilo hadn't known what Mag was called before Rotti Largo discovered her; GeneCo had taken great pains to keep all of Mag's life before becoming the voice of GeneCo secret.
The open closet caught Shilo's eye; Mag hadn't closed the door after retrieving the suitcase. There hung all of the beautiful dresses Shilo had so admired when watching Mag on TV. "Don't you want any of those dresses?"
Mag sniffed. "All things that GeneCo bought for me, to show off their most popular commodity."
Mag was right that most of her dresses were rather revealing. Shilo thought they looked lovely on her and had never considered that Mag might be uncomfortable being so exposed. She remembered one dress from Mag's Cornea Plus commercial that shifted from olive green to gold, with a slit in the skirt that exposed one long white leg as Mag walked across the stage, and instantly felt guilty. "Some of them are so pretty. Are there any that you like?"
Mag paused. "There's one dark green dress I like…it goes with that one scarf. And there's a black one…long sleeves, some sparkle decoration down the front where it laces, brocade overlay…"
"The one you wore to my house the night of the opera?"
"Yes, that one."
Shilo picked out the dark green dress. It was backless, but other than that seemed to cover everything. She folded it and placed it in the suitcase before going back for the black dress. "This one looks so beautiful on you," said Shilo wistfully.
"Thank you...it is one of the few GeneCo outfits that I actually like."
Shilo eyed the bracelets and arm-bands on one of the closet shelves. Shilo remembered seeing Mag wearing some of them when they'd met for the first time and thinking that they were nice accessories, but now they looked more like manacles. Shilo shivered. "Did GeneCo let you wear anything you wanted to?"
"I'm not sure I want to talk about this now…and you've forgotten to whisper."
"Sorry." Something else in the closet caught Shilo's eye, something glinting on the back wall. Shilo flicked on the closet light.
"Mag…what are these doing here?"
The back wall of the closet was partly covered with hanging photographs. About half of them were of a young Mag, often holding a white cane, at several stages of her life; at the age of about ten, holding a kitten; about twelve, standing on a stage singing a solo; eighteen, proudly holding a high school diploma from a well-known arts and theater high school. Her real eyes were blue, bright crystal blue, not unlike the eyes she'd gotten from GeneCo. Some of the other pictures were of her and a woman who was obviously Marni, and there were two of Marni where Mag was not present: one of Marni standing with Nathan, and one of Marni standing beside a man who seemed to be Rotti Largo, except Rotti's face had been colored over with black marker. Two were of a high school aged Mag standing with a young man who had his arm around her. In none of the pictures did Mag have her GeneCo eyes.
"I can't see what you're looking at, but I take it you're looking at the pictures."
"Yes."
"Why are they in the closet?"
"Thank you for reminding me…" Mag brought over the suitcase and began loading the photographs into the suitcase. "Hmm. I may need another suitcase."
"Mag?"
"I know…you must be thinking I can't actually see them now. But I don't want GeneCo to get their hands on them."
"Is that why they're in the closet?"
"Yes. GeneCo didn't want me to have anything left over from before I started…singing for them."
Shilo hugged Mag briefly; Mag gave her a squeeze back. "I need to get some sundries from the bathroom, and…and I should get my old cane. And then we should go…" She lowered her voice to be even quieter than a standard whisper. "They may not be monitoring this place right now, but as soon as they find out we're here, they will…be here shortly."
Mag hurried to collect her toiletries, and when she was finished, she and Shilo rushed from the house. Or rather, they did their best to rush; Shilo held Mag's hand and guided her, while Mag carried the cane she'd retrieved from her closet, sweeping it to and fro in front of her. Shilo hated how practiced the motion looked for reasons she couldn't place.
The taxi ride passed in silence, though Shilo found herself leaning against Mag's shoulder almost without realizing it. When the car pulled up to the Wallace residence, Mag dipped into the tote bag of money which she had (wisely, in Shilo's opinion) kept with her since their trip to the bank. She counted out several bills—Shilo wondered how she could possibly know how much she was counting until she realized Mag had gotten all bills of the same denomination—and handed about five times the fare to the driver. "No one knows who was in this taxi, where it went, or why," said Mag with an uncharacteristically sharp edge to her voice.
The driver counted the bills and nodded.
Shilo helped Mag get into the house with her two suitcases and the tote bag of money, and between the two of them they were able to take only one trip to get everything into the house.
"Do you want me to set you up in my dad's room?" Shilo queried, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she hoped Mag said no. As distraught as she'd been the previous night—the thought of her father's blood covering her mother's old dress made tears well in her eyes—lying beside Mag had helped her sleep. "Or…you could stay with me," she added almost shyly.
"If you're comfortable with me staying with you…"
"Yes…very. I mean…very comfortable."
"All right."
Shilo unpacked Mag's things and helped her around the bedroom and bathroom so she could familiarize herself with the places where all her belongings were.
"Shilo, do you know what Braille is?"
"Um…no."
"It's probably fallen out of use…it's a system of raised bumps that translate to Western letters. It's a way for blind people to read. GeneCo has probably disallowed it just to inconvenience those who can't afford eye replacements even more."
Shilo was learning how to pick up the traces of bitterness in Mag's voice; she darted over and embraced Mag tightly again.
"You like hugs, don't you, little one?" Mag rocked Shilo back and forth.
Shilo closed her eyes. "Mmm." She had been planning to say something about how she'd never really been around anyone besides her father, but the words had completely left her mind.
Graverobber came by that night for the payment Mag had promised him. She thanked him again for the drug, though Shilo could tell she still wasn't comfortable buying from a grave robber. Mag and Shilo met him at the front door; as he left, he blew Shilo another kiss, and she nearly chased after him in hopes of another hug or kiss on the hand, but was sure Mag wouldn't approve. Maybe she would eventually, but…it would take time.
It was soon after Graverobber left that the pain of her torn-out eyes began affecting Mag again. It was late enough that Mag wanted to sleep; she changed into a nightdress and lay in bed, and Shilo gave her another hundred microliters of Zydrate and changed the bandages around Mag's eye sockets; to Shilo's horror, the wounds were still bleeding.
"Mag, what are we…going to do about your eyes? We don't want them to get infected, and there has to be a better way to stop this bleeding…"
"I just wish the sockets weren't empty," Mag whispered.
"But what…?"
"Tomorrow, Shilo. Please?"
Shilo nodded, then realized Mag couldn't see the nod. "Okay. Tomorrow."
Shilo replaced the Zydate gun in a desk drawer where she had decided to keep it, along with the unused vials of Zydrate. Shilo didn't like the way the drug glowed. It looked unnatural, and if it didn't work so effectively, Shilo might have objected to Mag using it. Especially after seeing what had become of the Zydrate addicts…Shilo pushed that thought away. Mag wasn't the type to become addicted to Zydrate, not after the way she'd so hated being GeneCo's slave, she would never let herself become slave to a drug…
After getting on her own pajamas and going through her nightly hygiene routine, Shilo climbed into bed. Mag was already fast asleep; apparently Zydrate made her drowsy. Shilo huddled close to Mag, carefully draping one arm over her sleeping godmother. Even in her sleep—was she dreaming, maybe, and Shilo's presence somehow entered her dream?—Mag responded, her left arm falling clumsily over Shilo's back. Shilo felt herself tremble for a reason she couldn't place, and then suddenly she realized that her hand was moving over Mag's back of its own volition, stroking and caressing.
It didn't take any rumination or even any conscious thought at all; that was simply the moment it came to Shilo that she was in love with Mag. After years of admiring the beautiful singer from afar, Shilo was now finding that Mag in real life was brave, and graceful, and had suffered so much…it made sense.
Shilo almost wept, partly because it was a relief to admit it and partly because it was a hopeless, impossible love. Mag was her godmother, not her lover. "Mag…" Shilo whispered into the darkness. "I love you…"
Whether Mag heard the words in her dream, Shilo would never know.
A/N: Shilo does like hugs, doesn't she?
