This is rather twisted and a little dark. It was done for fun so don't get all huffy on me if you don't like the content.

My mind tends to work in mysterious ways. Hoffman/Amanda lovers rejoice - it took me a while to think of a way to write them.

Exploring the darker side of these two unstable entities.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Standing in the shower, the hot water cascaded down her back as she looked down at the now soaked dressing on her arms. She had been uncomfortable with the idea of pulling away the bandages and seeing the extent of the damage she did to herself, but she felt that perhaps her cuts could use a little bit of fresh air to assist in the healing process which would creep along slowly. Fingering the bandages for a moment, she sighed and finally decided that since she got them wet in the first place (which John instructed her specifically not to do) that she might as well remove them entirely. Very gingerly, she undid the end of the dressing on her right arm and very slowly started to unwrap the bandage. Dropping the sopping wet bandage to the shower floor, she reached up and slowly started to remove the gauze that was padding and protecting the wounds from any unnecessary rubbing or infection. The first pieces that came off of her wrist revealed what looked like nothing more to her then when she had tried to slit her wrists in the past; that memory was never a good one. Removing the following pads of gauze from her arm, she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach and a nausea as she saw the true extent of what she had done in her fit of terror. All she saw that night it happened was a river of blood pooling from her arms onto her and John's shirts, but she never got to see how deep she really sent the razor blade into her flesh. Shaky fingers brushed against the cuts - she was horrified at how badly she massacred herself in an attempt to find an illusive key that never existed in the first place. As her shock started to wear off she removed the other bandage, the other arm as badly damaged as the first one she unveiled. This very place, this lifestyle she was sure would be the death of her if she didn't find a proper way to cope with it. But did she have the horrifying nightmare because of what she had seen happen to others and essentially herself or was it also the stresses of the confusing relationships she had developed with all three members of this dysfunctional family?

Placing her arms under the hot water, she cringed as she felt the stinging sensation going up her arm and creeping down her spine but soon it gave way to a dull throbbing. It was only three days after it happened so she didn't expect a miracle, but she would have preferred not to have such horrific scars for the rest of her life - might as well add them to the arsenal she already sported, but being so out in the open is what bothered her the most. She was slowly coming undone and it was a bit overwhelming, but for the moment she simply closed her eyes and tilted her head back to the sensation of the steaming water brushing against her skin. Her eyes opened to a rather…interesting sound she heard creep under the door before she turned the water off, her hand on the handle as she tried to listen carefully to see if she heard it again. Whatever it was, it was muffled and since John was out at the moment, she was a bit apprehensive about the prospect of authorities managing to get through all the "booby traps" and make it into the lair. Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed the towel off the floor and wrapped it around herself, her soaking wet hair dripping down her back as she very slowly peered around the corner. After ensuring there wasn't anyone close by she heard the sound again, pausing and looking down the emptiness of the hallway. Hmmm. Stepping out into the open, she looked into the industrial sink next to the door and saw a rather questionable knife, pulling it out and taking it with her as she tucked the end of the towel in to secure it around herself. Slowly padding her way down the hallway, the sound continued to get louder and for a moment she raised a brow as what he was hearing - it sounded very similar to a woman and some man talking at random intervals. She found herself stopping at Amanda's room and paused there against the wall, listening to carefully to what he never would have expected to hear; well then, looked like two people who having more then their fair share of fun and one of which who, although wasn't told someone couldn't do it to him, still was breaking the rules. Stepping round the corner, she looked into the room, almost wishing she hadn't considering what was now probably an image permanently burnt into the recesses of her mind.

There was Amanda, in all her glory, brunette hair cascading down her back with her head tilted back and her fingers pressed into the obvious muscles adorning Mark Hoffman's chest. Rolling her hips in wide circles, she moaned, arching her back to send him deeper. Her slow, painstaking movements were only executed to make him beg for more, ache for her - after all, Amanda didn't like to surrender her control to anyone; except John (she couldn't help that one). As Hoffman's grip on her hips got tighter, his fingers creating small bruises on her hips, she leaned down closer to him, pressing her lips tightly to his own and allowing him the chance to take a little bit of control which he did rather willingly.

Holding tight to her hips, Hoffman pushed and pulled them, his pace increasingly dramatically as he grunted, thrusting his hips upwards into her. Her lips broke from his own and she moaned his name causing the animal within to go wild. He pushed her up and pulled her down, slamming her hips down onto his own at a maddening pace just to hear her scream and since John wasn't there and Michelle was more then likely occupying her time outside like she did when he was gone, they figured there was no harm done - no one would be aware of their ministrations. Mark slammed her down harder and harder, listening to her breathing change, listening to her gasp at certain intervals. Thrusting up into her hard, he heard her start to gasp his name, felt her muscles tightening around his member and went to town. "Scream it Amanda…scream my name…" husky and almost out of breath, he demanded her submission to that request and growled before throwing his head back as she did exactly what he wanted. They both shook with their orgasms, Hoffman's arms coming up to wrap around her petite frame.

Amanda rested her head against Mark's chest, breathing hard and trying to catch her breath - the man definitely knew how to please a woman in bed, there was no doubting that. In her silent euphoria she heard the sound of metal hitting the floor and picked her head up quickly, Hoffman doing the same and peering at the doorway. Wherever it came from, it sounded close. Amanda climbed off of Hoffman and with little regard to the state she was in, she stormed towards the door. She disappeared out the doorway for a moment, Hoffman sitting up and waiting in the dim lighting of her room to see what was going on in the darkness of the hallway. He heard something that sounded like a struggle and quickly reached down to his pants to pull the gun out of the holster until he saw the small frame of Michelle come tumbling through the doorway and Amanda coming up behind her, clearly more amused then he felt she should be at this juncture.

Michelle scrambled to get to her feet but was unsuccessful as she felt Amanda take hold of her hair, pulling her up, gripping tightly to the towel around her to keep it from falling. Clearly she was just trying to get away from the doorway not the least bit interested in what they were doing, but she fumbled the knife and gave herself away. Amanda slammed her into the wall, pressing her hard against it with her arm behind her neck, Michelle cringing and pressing against it with her hands to try and push off.

"Well look who was snooping around in the hallways. Did you like what you saw? Huh? Not that you fucking cared like I did when I saw you fucking John." Amanda snarled in her ear, watching her cringe at the mention of the time she saw her and John together. Suddenly Amanda turned her attention to Hoffman who was grinning, setting his pistol aside and grinned herself. "Hmm, I think I know what to do with you."

"What…?" she felt herself yanked away from the wall but it wasn't by Amanda, Hoffman taking hold of her by the arm. When she tried to push away from him he grabbed her wrist with his other hand and spun her around, pushing her. She stumbled and fell onto Amanda bed before feeling Amanda crawl on top of her and grab her wrists. She cringed and looked away, trying not to stare at the woman who clearly didn't have any qualms about being nude and sitting on her like this. Her eyes suddenly widened as she felt what appeared to be some kind of rope going around her ankles, starting to flail, but unsuccessfully with Amanda placing all her weight on her.

Amanda grinned and grabbed her face with one hand as Hoffman tied up one wrist. "What's wrong? You seem uncomfortable…" smirking Amanda leaned down and pressed a rather superficial kiss (almost as if to say 'good luck') to her lips before sliding off as Hoffman finished tying up her other wrist. In the process Amanda had grabbed the top of her towel and essentially pulled it off, leaving her bound and exposed.

"OKAY OKAY!!! Enough, stop! You two are fucking sick!!!" She pulled on the restraints, wincing at the feeling of the rope digging into her skin. She watched them both closely as they looked to one another before Amanda approached Hoffman, pressing a hand to his bare chest and bringing her lips to his own. Their tongues met, tangling together, Hoffman taking hold of her butt and pulling her close, groaning at the close contact before they broke away from one another. Amanda walked to the middle of the room, picking up the knife that Michelle had in her hand and smiled, pressing the tip of it into her finger. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of pain before she grinned, looking to Hoffman.

Mark started to advance towards the restrained young woman, watching her flail around aggressively trying to get her hands out of the ropes. "Oh you won't be getting out that easy. Trust me." He came up to the side of the bed, looking her up and down. She wasn't nearly as perfect as Amanda but the scars reminded him so much of the other woman in the room who was watching him intently. He tilted his head to the side, bringing a hand up and brushing a finger against her cheek, smirking as he watched all the color drain from her face and her fingers curl up to make tightly wound fists. "I wouldn't suggest tensing up. I warned you…" as he spoke Amanda approached with the knife in hand, bringing the tip of it under her chin causing her to freeze. Her heart was pounding so fiercely that they could both hear it, the pounding getting louder as Amanda drug the tip of the knife down her neck, across her collarbone, between her breasts all the way to her belly button. Whatever sick thing they were planning, Michelle had never seen two people so morbidly perfect for one another or amused at the helplessness of another. Hoffman took one finger, lightly trailing it down her exposed skin and felt the tension rippling through every part of her body as he got to her thigh, drawing small circles on the top of it.

"…for the love of fucking god, please don't do this. Don't do this. Please…" Her voice shook as she pleaded with the two of them, as Amanda looked at her smiling, pressing the knife to her lips to tell her to be quiet. "…what are you going to do…??" she felt the tears threatening to break the surface and saw the two look at one another before smiling devilishly and looking back to her.

A horrified scream echoed through the lair followed by a number of pleas, begging, and crying before it went silent in the lair again. John returned home, closing the door behind him and looked over at the table to see Amanda sipping tea. She smiled at her teacher, her father, the man she wished was much more (even now) before he smiled back and walked back towards his room. She raised the cup to her lips and grinned a bit before hearing the sound of footsteps as Hoffman walked through the room past her, smiling himself before grabbing himself a glass of water. He leaned against the sink and watched her for a moment before pushing off and heading back towards his room.

As John entered his room he found Michelle lying there asleep in his bed, not curled up in the blankets as she normally was. Instead she was lying peacefully there and for a moment John felt a huge sense of relief, figuring that perhaps her emotional and mental wounds were healing much faster then he anticipated. He didn't notice the misplaced organization of the sedatives and the one missing and he would never know what happened that night because she would never remember herself - and for Hoffman and Amanda it was best left that way.