Chapter 8


"I'm starting to cave, I'm losing my flame
I wanted your truth, but I wanted the pain"

- Smoke And Mirrors, Imagine Dragons


Drew is in a foul mood.

This really isn't unusual. It happens every week or so, so they've all gotten quite good at noticing it. Annabeth can almost smell it on her as soon as she skulks into the briefing room that morning. Her arms are folded and her hair is in a very, very aggressive ponytail. Moreover, if that wasn't obvious enough, she had picked a seat right in the centre of the room, tucked one ankle behind the other and announced, "I am in a very, very bad mood so take this as your warning, ladies: if any of you even think about talking to me I have a pair of scissors in my boot and I will put them through your eye".

Annabeth would get mad at her, but, like. She can actually see the scissors, and Drew doesn't issue empty threats. She'll grouch at her later when she's not in all pissy and doesn't have any sort of blade on her.

Still. The show must go on, regardless of whether one of her girls is in the mood for casual homicide and eye-gouging. "All right, ladies," she says, taking her place at the front of the room. Everyone watches her. "This week is going to be a little different. For the next seven days, I want everyone to ignore their timetables. Except you, Drew, you're still on bathroom duty."

Drew just kind of ignores her.

"Well then." Annabeth leans against the podium. "As I'm sure you've heard, Percy is undergoing sensory deprivation. I figured if physical torture isn't going to do anything we're going have to do some more psychological stuff. He's currently blindfolded and earplugged, and will remain that for the next seven days. Each of you will have an appointed slot with him – some of you will have more, but you'll all get at least one turn. The slots will be completely random, and by that I mean I've made a whole new timetable that Piper will hand out now–"

The entire room groans.

"You can hardly be surprised," Annabeth says.

"I think I'll be more surprised when you don't make a timetable for something completely inane," Rachel says, taking one. She takes one look at it and puts her head in her hands. "God, it's even got a title."

"Well, of course it does," Annabeth says. "Any sensible timetable has a title. How else will you know what it's for?"

Rachel just stares sadly down at her sheet.

"Anyway," Annabeth says. "As I was saying. For the next week, I expect that you will follow these slots. The aim of this is to drive the hostage to insanity. If we follow usual procedures he'll be able to figure out time of day it is and thus will be able to hold onto some sort of normalcy. We want to be able to completely mess with his perception of reality. That means you have to follow this to a T, understand?"

Everyone nods.

"Good. There are a few rules you must follow, though. Firstly, you cannot make him fall unconscious. In order for this to work we are going to use a bit of physical pain, but the point of this is breaking his psyche apart, not his body. You are allowed to hurt him, but not badly. If you look at the left-hand side of your sheet you will see a list of tools you are allowed to use, and a list of tools that are absolutely prohibited."

"Even the lists are colour-coded," Rachel mutters faintly.

"Secondly," Annabeth says, "if any of you at any point remove the blindfold or the earplugs you will be on clean-up duty for the next month. That is a threat. And we've just started training in the ring which means a lot of blood and throw-up, so, you know. Obey orders, or you'll spend your lunchtime doing that every day."

She arranges some papers on the podium. "In other news, half of you will be sent out to Queens to try and discover Olympus's location. We've tried getting something out of Leo but unfortunately he remains tight-lipped about that."

"You should torture him," Piper says. "He's quite sensitive to that kind of thing. I mentioned what we were doing to Percy and he nearly cried."

Annabeth loves Leo. "We'll think about it. For now, there will be a few squadrons sent out. I think this goes without saying, but please be careful. If Silena really was the spy – "

"She was."

It's Drew.

Annabeth blinks. "Sorry?"

"She was the spy." Drew stands up. "I found this in under her mattress."

She throws something small and hard at Annabeth's head. Annabeth manages to catch it just before it collides with her nose, and then looks at it. "A burner phone?"

"Turn it on," Drew says.

Annabeth does. The screen flashes, and then a notification reading TWO NEW MESSAGES appears on the screen. She shoots Drew a confused look, and then clicks on it, leaning her forearms against the podium.

The messages open up.

Unknown: You were promised a reward for all the information you have issued to Olympus.

Unknown: Meet me by Central Park, June 6th.

"June 6th," Annabeth says. "That's in two months. Why..."

"Are you happy now?"

Annabeth frowns. "What?"

"You got your proof. Silena was the spy."

"Why would that make me happy?"

"You've wanted it to be her," Drew says. "Ever since you let her go. You wanted this to happen. You wanted us to dig up something that proved she really was guilty, so you wouldn't feel so bad. Well there you go. Is that good enough for you? Are you happy now?"

Her voice is getting louder. She's spiralling, Annabeth realises. She's seen it before. Grief can drive a person mad. Drew doesn't talk about her feelings, never has, except maybe only to Silena, and this is slowly killing her.

"Drew," Annabeth says. "You need to calm down."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Chase. This is your fault."

"Her fault?" Piper demands. "It's her fault that your best friend turned out to be the rat?"

Annabeth shoots Piper a look. Not the time.

"You wanted this to happen." Drew points accusingly at her, but her finger is trembling. "You wanted this to happen, you wanted there to be proof so it would account for the fact that you're a crappy leader with an even crappier moral compass, and you wanted there to be a reason that would make up for the fact that you killed her, you sent her out to die, and I hate you, I hate you—"

"Lacey, restrain her," Annabeth says.

Lacey looks a bit afraid, which is understandable considering the threat of a pair of scissors to the eye is still as real as it was ten minutes ago, maybe even more so, but she does what she's told and grabs Drew's arms, pinning them behind her back. This only infuriates Drew even more, thrashing wildly, and Rachel has to stand up to avoid getting kicked in the head.

"You gonna throw me out too?" Drew shouts, wriggling against Lacey. Her elbow manages to catch Lacey in the eye and momentarily her grip falters. Drew twists out of her hold and Piper has to quickly seize her around the waist before she decks Annabeth's lights out. "Is that what you're gonna do to me, Chase? Huh? Throw me out like you did to Silena, and then dare feel sorry as if it wasn't your fault that you killed her? You're a monster and I hate you, and you're not even half good enough to run this place, you coward—"

"Take her down to the boxing ring," Annabeth says.

Piper pales. "The boxing ring? Where she'll be able to punch me senseless and get away with it? Uh, no thank you—"

"Did I stutter?"

Piper pauses. "What?"

"Did you hear me, McLean? Do I have to repeat myself?"

Piper swallows. "No, ma'am."

"Good. Now do what I said. I won't ask again."

Piper knows when to shut up and listen. Head down, and a firm grip on Drew's thrashing arms, she escorts her out the room and down the hallway.

The entire room is silent.

Annabeth clears her throat. "Anyway," she says. "Let's talk about the squadron routes we're planning on taking."


Piper finds her afterwards. "What happened with Drew in there?" she asks.

Annabeth keeps packing things into the box. "She was grieving."

Piper snorts. "Funny way of showing it."

"Drew may be a soulless old grouch who eats, like, children for breakfast, but she's still human. She just misses Silena, and we all know feelings aren't really her forte. She probably hasn't had an outlet to express how she's feeling for a while. I think she was living in denial before. Like she could blame on everything on me. But then she found the phone and I think she realised that she couldn't keep denying the fact that her best friend had betrayed Minerva, and all those feelings just kind of– exploded."

Piper watches her. "Huh."

"She's really not that complicated."

"No, I suppose not." Piper watches Annabeth load things into the box. "The boxing ring worked by the way."

Annabeth glances at her. "Told you it would."

"Listen, I was just afraid Drew was gonna turn and start decking me. She still had those scissors on her. And we have that whole can't-be-held-accountable-for-whatever-happens-in-the-boxing-ring-unless-it's-murder rule, and as we've demonstrated with Percy, there a lot of things that aren't murder that still hurt. Especially when you have a pair of scissors."

"And yet here you are, safe and sound."

Piper just scowls at her. "You had no way of knowing she wouldn't hurt me."

"Uh, yes I would. Firstly, Drew is not a maniac."

"Debatable."

"Secondly, no matter how sad or angry she was, even she knew that murder was inexcusable."

"Like I said, there are a lot of things that aren't murder."

"I knew she wouldn't hurt you, Piper."

Piper just rolls her eyes.

"What did she do?"

"Attacked one of the bags. Like. Hard. She started crying a few minutes in, and she wasn't wearing gloves. I think she may have busted some of her knuckles. I just kind of sat and watched her. She went for ages. She was just hitting it and swearing and crying, and then she just kind of collapsed."

"Did you hug her?"

"Are you mad, Beth, of course I didn't, she still had the scissors. I kind of patted her shoulder, and let her do everything. She just kind of wiped her nose on my shirt and then told me she hoped it stained and stalked off, which I think meant thank-you. But she did seem a lot lighter."

Annabeth smiles. "I knew it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

There's a pause.

"Just saying, though," Piper adds off-handedly, "that thing where you, like, ordered me to take her out? Super hot."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"I'm not even kidding, I've never been more attracted to you then I was then. Do you want to, like, make out, or—"

"Piper."

"Yeah, me neither, although having said that if you were up to it I wouldn't have complained. Are you going to see Percy now?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do to him?"

Annabeth flicks the knife in the box. Piper, who's sitting on her desk and at a high enough vantage point to see, hums a little. "Just some light stuff."

"Light stuff. Annie, you psycho."

"Still attracted to me?"

Piper dramatically brings her hands to her chest. "Oh, more than ever."

Annabeth just laughs and picks up the box. "I'll see you soon?"

"Yep," Piper says. "I'll probably be with Rachel and Leo in the garage, though. With the squadrons you're sending out it's best that all our engines are in top shape."

"Smart. See you later."

"You too."

As soon as Annabeth leaves the office, her smile drops, and she allows the unease cramping up her ribs to expel across her stomach. She's going to be Percy's first visitor this week, not that he'll know that, and she's really not sure how she feels about that. At first, she had thought this whole 'sensory deprivation' thing was genius, and mostly for completely selfish reasons. Any circumstance where Percy is unaware to what he does to her is an all-round good time, and the fact that he can't see or hear while she's putting a knife into him will make trying to maintain the façade a lot easier, considering she doesn't have to do it.

But there is a price, and that's Percy's sanity. And it frightens Annabeth that he's not going to be the same when she takes the blindfold off at the end of the week.

As she walks up the door, she steels herself.

Come on, Beth. You can do this. You're the leader. Balls of steel. Also apparently super-hot. You can do almost anything.

She walks through the door.

Percy is lying motionless on the bed, apart from the occasional twitch of his leg. Even though he can't hear her, she closes the door as silently as she can, and places the box on the counter. For a few moments, she just takes him in – plain shirt, plain trousers, cuffed to the bed, a blindfold over his eyes and headphones over his ears. If she ignores the cuffs, he would almost look like he was asleep.

But she recognises the way he's breathing. He's wide awake.

She reaches inside the box and pulls out a handful of things, tucking them under her arm, and then makes her way over to him, perching in the seat beside his bed. She lays everything out on her lap.

A feather. An ice cube. A knife.

She picks up the knife first, spins it carefully in her hands, feels the point twist against the tip of her finger. She watches Percy breathe, his chest moving up, down. He's methodical. He's awake, that's for sure, but he's somewhere else. Maybe he also has hats, like her. She's not sure.

Either way, this'll get his attention.

She takes the hilt between her fingers, and then deliberately hovers it over the inside of his left wrist. His breathing is still calm. She touches the point of the blade to his skin.

The reaction comes a second later than Annabeth expects it to. It's not an obvious pause, but there's a split second where the knife is against his wrist and he doesn't move, and then his whole body spasms in surprise. He was definitely somewhere else. Annabeth doesn't know how to feel. She knows one of the first stages of madness is having to carve out a whole new reality in your head, and Percy must be deep in his for his reaction to be so delayed.

Wherever he was, he's here now. His breathing is laboured and fast. He knows that's a knife, and at Minerva, knives aren't just for show.

With her other hand, she gently strokes along his side, and his whole body shudders. It shouldn't be odd having so much power – she's had this kind of power over people before – but for some reason it is. She doesn't know why she's caring this much. Percy's just another captive. This shouldn't be hard. Why is this hard?

She's beginning to see her mistake. One of her secret fears throughout the entire process was Percy going crazy in front of her. She blinded him selfishly. She thought if he was helpless and removed from the world he could go crazy silently, and she didn't have to see the descent into madness. But now that's he's immobile and he's had almost all of his senses taken away, it's easy to already see him as vegetative. Before, Percy still had his flashing green eyes and quick wit and awful jokes, but now everything that's humanised him is gone, and he's just another body.

Which should make it easier, rationally. But it's not.

God, he may as well already be dead.

Annabeth realises she's shaking. She clears her throat and sets back her shoulders. This isn't her. She doesn't let herself get side-tracked by things like this. She can do this, and she can do it well.

Slowly, she drags the knife up his arm, pressing hard enough that it leaves a small white long, but not hard enough that she draws blood. Goosebumps ripple in its wake. She moves the knife up his forearm, his bicep, trails it across his shoulder and the shirt that covers it. Then, in one quick movement, she drags the knife across, cutting the fabric entirely.

He shivers at the cold, but Annabeth ignores it. Only using the knife, she cuts along the front of his shirt, until she can peel it open, like a book, revealing his chest. It's startling white from a lack of sunlight, and criss-crossed in dozens of scars from previous visits. His ribs are beginning to show. Annabeth tries to ignore it all and drags the knife down his torso, waiting for the headspace to creep in.

But it's not coming.

She tries not to let the panic show in her grip. If she falters, he'll notice. But inwardly, she's panicking, because she always falls back on the headspace, and she can't feel it anywhere. She can't do this without it.

Where is it?

That headspace is her saving grace. She needs it. But it's still not here.

She trails the knife across his body, but her hand is trembling. She tries to keep herself still, but it's treacherous, moving into it like this. It's like planning to go scuba-diving with only a pair of swimming goggles. She searches in her head for it, but it's gone. It's as if she was having a calm conversation. Her mind has apparently decided that this isn't torture, and she's fine by herself. But she's not. Because just because she can't see Percy doesn't mean that he's not real and alive under her hands.

She can't do this. She puts the knife on the counter and stands up. She tells herself that the anticipation of what's going to happen next will be enough for him. And it is. Several of the slots are only a couple of minutes long. It's the waiting that will kill Percy.

She puts the ice cube and the feather back in the box, and then hightails it out of there.

She doesn't go back for the rest of the week.


"How should we go about taking the blindfold off?" is the topic of Sunday's morning brief. Annabeth had at first presented it just to gather some ideas, and then perhaps move onto more important topics, such as the updates from the squadrons sent to check out Olympus's whereabouts, or the pros and cons of getting bangs, but she had clearly underestimated her team.

Like. They've even produced a whiteboard. It's getting serious.

"I vote," Piper says, "that we should all be there wearing animal masks, so the first thing he sees is just animals. If the whole week didn't already drive him to insanity then that certainly will."

"Great idea, Piper," Rachel says. "We can also play some creepy tribal music as well, so it's the first thing he hears. Write that down, Lacey."

Lacey does.

"I think we should turn the lights super bright," Miranda Gardner says. "He's been in darkness for seven days now. That would hurt."

"Excellent idea," Piper says. "Write that one down as well, Lacey."

Annabeth tries to regain some control over the situation. "Girls," she says, "you do realise this isn't as big a deal as you guys are making it out to be."

"Nonsense," Rachel says. "This is crucial. It's all part of the torture process."

"We could not take the blindfold off at all," someone else says.

"Genius," Piper says.

"No, not genius," Annabeth says. "It comes off today."

"Maybe we could take it off with, like, a droid, or something," Rachel says. "So he wakes up and there's no one. That would be creepy."

"And where would you suggest getting a droid?" Piper says. "Exactly. Nowhere. I still think we should do the animal masks. Underline that idea, Lacey."

"Yeah, but where would we get the animal masks?" Rachel says.

Piper straightens. "Somewhere," she says vaguely.

"Maybe Leo can take it off," Drew says. "And then Percy is all happy because yay, friend, but then we kill Leo."

"No!" Annabeth says.

Drew shrugs. "It's a good idea."

Annabeth shakes her head. "This isn't the point at all! We shouldn't be wasting time doing this. What we need to do is think about what's going to happen after that. We need to think about what happens if Percy comes out unharmed, and what happens if he doesn't."

"We just need to hope we didn't go too far," a girl says. "Otherwise he won't even be able to tell us about Olympus."

"He won't be at that stage," Annabeth says, mentally crossing her fingers. God, don't let him be at that stage.

"Realistically," Piper says, "he'll be very, very disoriented, and probably knee-deep in whatever headspace he's created for himself. We can't overwhelm him."

"Right," Rachel says, "because a dozen animal masks in his face isn't overwhelming."

"Enough," Annabeth says. "I'll take the mask off – alone," she adds, when she sees Piper perk up. "No animal masks, no creepy music, and definitely no murder. Drew."

"It would be effective," Drew says. "You're just a coward."

Annabeth ignores her. "We must take advantage of his befuddled state," she says. "I've just been notified by one of the squadrons. They found several kilograms of cocaine in an underground bunker in a deserted pharmacy. Percy's going to be feeling very detached – so he's going to need an anchor."

Piper blinks. "You want to get Percy on drugs."

"Think about it. He's been alone in his head for a week. He's going to be incredibly needy and floaty – like he's not really present. This is a perfect opportunity for an addiction to start. It'll be something for him to hold onto. If we keep him on it, eventually he'll become so addicted he feels as though he can't live without it."

"So he doesn't and we kill him," Drew says. "Good plan, Chase."

Annabeth stares at her. "No! Why do you want to kill people today?"

"I've been grieving too much. I need at least one death to cope."

Piper mouths, she's finally gone crackers.

Annabeth tries to hold in her laugh. "What I was actually going to say," she says, "is that we take it away from him all of a sudden. He'll suffer from drastic withdrawal symptoms – and he'll do pretty much anything to get it back. Including telling us information."

"That's brilliant," Rachel says.

"I'll write it down," Lacey offers.

Annabeth nods. "Do you see how carefully we have to tread now? These next few hours where I reintroduce him to the world are going to be crucial in following these steps. They're shipping over the cocaine as we speak."

"So what now?" Piper says. "We leave a bag of cocaine in his room? He'll know something's up if we start offering him drugs."

"We'll disguise them as painkillers," Annabeth says. "I'll get one of the initiates to start giving them to him. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary. He knows we plan on keeping him alive as long as we can. The painkillers would make sense – he'll just think it's us trying to keep his spirits up, you know. And then eventually he'll get addicted."

"We'll need to hurt him for us to first introduce the painkillers," someone says. "He'll think it'll be weird if we give them to him when he's basically had no physical pain for a week."

"Leave that to me," Annabeth says. "Piper and I will do back-to-back physicals on him next week."

"Aw, sweet," Piper says.

Drew nods. "I'm still vouching that we just flat-out kill him, but for the first time, Chase, I don't actually hate this plan. Congratulations on not being as extraordinarily boring and vanilla as you normally are."

"Thank you, Drew," Annabeth says. "Is everyone clear on what the next few weeks are going to entail?"

Everyone nods.

"Good." Annabeth pats the podium. "Well, I suppose that's my cue to start the plan and actually take his blindfold off. The girls should be arriving with the cocaine in a couple of hours. I want you all on the lookout for that, please."

"Can do, Sergeant Chase," Rachel says, grinning.

"Good. I'll see you all later, okay?"

Everyone voices a farewell as Annabeth leaves the room, heading towards Percy's room. She doesn't know what to feel, honestly. She hasn't seen him since exactly one week ago, when she had traced his whole body with a knife, waited for her headspace and then had practically bolted when it didn't arrive.

That still terrifies her. She doesn't know what had happened, because something like that has never happened before. She always locks into her psycho mindset during torture, because she physically can't deal with the guilt of it otherwise. It's why she had run so quickly.

She just doesn't understand why this time was any different.

She walks into his room, not even trying to conceal her footsteps anymore. He can't hear her, but it doesn't matter, because he will in a few moments, and she doesn't really plan on doing it with any finesse (certainly not with any animal masks). She turns the lights off, so the room is pleasantly dark, and then moves towards the seat by his bed. For a few moments, she just watches him breathe.

He looks perfectly at ease, but he's not sleeping. Annabeth wonders what he's thinking about.

She takes his hand, and she feels his whole body leap. But she doesn't do anything else. She just holds his hand, waits until the jackrabbit of his pulse in his wrist settles, until he realises that this isn't torture, this is the end, and then she leans forward and shifts the headphones off his ears.

He doesn't seem to know how to react. He tenses, and then relaxes, and then tenses again, twitching erratically. She made sure to shut the door behind her. If she wants to get him to ultimate co-dependence, she's going to have to be very gentle with him. Everything needs to be introduced one bit at a time.

She waits a few moments for him to get used to the sound of her breathing and the faint hubbub of the hospital ward on the other side of the wall, before whispering, "You okay?"

His body tenses again, but it's less noticeable. He licks his lips. She wonders if he's talked at all. "Annabeth?" he says, his voice croaky.

She ignores the way that sends goosebumps up her arms. "Shh, it's me," she says. She brings her spare hand up to his head, and gently strokes the hair off his forehead. It's stopped being so soft now, from lack of shampoo or conditioner. It's rough, straw-like, almost. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit weird."

"I'm gonna take the blindfold off now. Is that okay?"

A beat, and then a nod. "Yeah."

They're whispering. Annabeth still isn't sure why.

She brings the hand from his hair to the edge of the blindfold, and then, very, very gently, she drags it upwards, very careful not to do it all at once so his eyes can adjust to the low light. He blinks, once, twice, his eyes owlish and wide, and then he blinks again, like he's trying to remember what light looks like.

"Why is it dark?" he asks.

"I switched the light off. I didn't want it overwhelming your eyes."

"Why? Isn't the entire point of this to overwhelm me?"

"Not here. Want to keep you alive, remember? You'll be useless if you suffer a heart attack."

"I won't get a heart attack from some bright lights." As he speaks, his eyes have to flutter shut. Even in the darkness of the room, where everything is purple and hazy, it's still too bright for him.

"Piper suggested animal masks."

"That, maybe."

Annabeth keeps holding his hand and stroking his hair. It's all part of the mission, she thinks to herself. Make him co-dependent.

She ignores how nice his hand feels in hers.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Weird. Empty. Kinda– drifty. Like. I'm floating. Tired."

"Tired?"

"The suspense of constantly waiting for something to happen gave me no sleep. I was constantly awake. I don't think I slept at all."

Sleep-deprivation. He's doing this all to himself.

"Annabeth?" he says. His voice is lilting with sleep.

"Mm?"

"It was you, wasn't it. On the first day."

Her hand pauses in his hair. "How did you know that?"

"Your hands. I– I know what they feel like."

Annabeth glances down at her hands. "What?"

"They're kinda soft. You've got gun callouses on your palm and thumb. And you've also got this super distinct pen callous on the side of your finger. That kind of gave it away."

Annabeth can only stare at him. His eyes are closed. "I– I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Percy says. "You have nice hands. You should feel honoured I remembered them."

His words are sluggish. He's slurring them a little. He's still in his headspace, Annabeth realises. He's coming out gradually, bit by bit. It'll all hit him tomorrow – and if this conversation is any inkling, the beginning of his co-dependence is falling on Annabeth.

And the worst part? She isn't even bothered. Somewhere deep inside her, she has a sneaking suspicion it's why she put herself in this position. Because she knew this would happen.

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. "Do you want me to stay here?"

Percy's eyes open in surprise. She holds his gaze.

"Stay?" He cracks a weak, sleepy grin. He's three seconds behind and it's kind of adorable. "Why, Annabeth Chase, if you wanted to get in my pants all you had to do was stay. But– you have to take me out for dinner first. I'm not that kind of guy."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "You're falling asleep. Do you want me to stay?"

"You're hot when you get all bossy."

"So I've heard. Stay?"

His eyes soften. "Yes."

She stays with him as he falls asleep. She doesn't let go of his hand once.


A/N well hello there my friends! how are we all? I myself am very well because I did next to nothing this week except watch teen wolf (yes I've just started whATEVER it's super good ok) and eat ice cream (because hello heatwave) so you know #livingthedream

also im super sorry this chapter is again kinda fillerish but I can 100000000% assure you that next chapter things start happening. like really happening. as in percy may actually escape Minerva happening (you thought I wasn't gonna do it guess what friends he's getting OUTTA here)

having said all that though I do hope you liked it! so silena is now definitely the spy and I thought I needed to show a bit of drew-has-emotion because you know silena was her best friend so you get some overdramatic drew, and now you also get a further insight into what they're doing to percy. that's an actual thing people do, btw. it's called like pharmacological torture. it's pretty intense (also now my search history has 'how do you consume cocaine' so sorry parents I'm not actually a drug dealer)

also! 177 reviews! guys this is actually crazy I can't believe we're nearly at 200 and we haven't even hit 10 chapters yet. this is completely crazy. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story (or getting frustrated by it haha) so honestly thank you so much for all your reviews you guys are brilliant xxx

that is most unfortunately all I have for this week, so I hope you enjoyed and please tell me what you thought! I shall see you next Saturday xx