A/N: Hello hello! I know, it's been quite a while since I've updated Coming Home. What can I say? College is a bitch.

Buuut, good news! We're getting into the nitty gritty in this chapter, so I hope you like this big bucket of angst!

It. Was. Pouring by the time the three came home. It felt like buckets of water were tossed onto Iris, which wasn't fun, considering she was wearing a long dress and four-inch heels. She should've planned better attire for the night.

Well, at least it was over. She can rip the damn things off and head to bed.

"That was by far the most boring party I've been to in 25 years!" Carl moaned. The house alarm chimed their arrival, and Iris all but ran through the door ahead of her dad and Markus.

Her poor, poor red chiffon dress. It was adorable; a little sweetheart neckline with straps crossing down her back. The front started high, about an inch above her knees, and the back ended low, cascading behind her like a train. The chiffon layers made it very breathable and comfortable—the pouring rain, however, made it uncomfortably sticky on her form. It didn't help that her gold heels were getting slippery to walk in, either. They were first to get kicked off.

Iris had to agree with her father. The party wasn't well-planned, there was hardly any food, and most guests were sniffing out money. Tonight had nothing to do with art and everything to do with prices. "We'll have to make sure we never take an invitation from them again."

"Already done." Markus' LED blinked in yellow as he and Carl passed through the threshold of the door. "Any emails with their company name will be discarded."

Iris smiled at him as she pushed her soaking mop of hair from her face. "Thanks." So efficient.

"I could tell tonight wasn't going to be good," Carl started, "From the second we walked in there. And then I asked myself, "What the hell am I doing here?""

Iris chuckled softly. "That's when you take me and Markus and we run in the opposite direction. At least we got out early?" She didn't have it in her to finish the last hour. Not on her birthday; she'd been kind enough showing up.

"Well, cocktail parties like these are a chance for all those people who admire your work to meet you two." Markus offered. Iris shook her head softly as he tugged his jacket off and set it hanging on the coat hanger by the desk.

"Normally I'd agree. But not tonight."

Carl added, "Not a single person there gave a damn about art. All they cared about was how much they could make out of it."

"Schmoozers."

"Pigs."

"Greedy little goblins."

"Well, let's not dwell on the party, then." Markus said with an easy smile. "How about you two spend the last few hours of your birthday relaxing?"

As Markus went behind Carls' wheelchair, Iris and Carl shared a nod. "Perfect idea, Markus. Why don't we have some drinks? All the excitement's made me thirsty."

"Dad," Iris whined. She walked in time beside Markus, her feet and dress leaving little puddles in her wake. The wheelchair did the same, small twin trails beginning to seep into the tile. She didn't give it much thought as they pulled through the living room door. Iris didn't have it in her to even think about cleaning up. Besides, the light was so soft she could barely see it. Out of sight, out of mind. "You know your doctor isn't going to like that."

"Ah," Carl waved her off gently. "My liver is perfectly fine, little flower. One drink won't kill me."

"If it does, I get that little red painting of yours."

"Deal."

The pair shared a gentle laugh as Markus pulled away from Carl and meandered to the small alcohol stand the Manfred's had. It was filled with mostly scotch, whiskey, and gin, though there was one bottle of tequila that Iris particularly enjoyed. She was in the mood for some of the wine she kept in the kitchen, though. "Scotch, neat as usual?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay," Markus teasingly hummed and grabbed a glass. "But you know what your doctor would say."

"Ha! Thank you, Markus." Iris bumped her shoulder against his as he teasingly smirked. "The only other one with sense around here."

"The both of you can kiss my ass!" Carl snapped, cheeky smile beaming. "I'm old enough to choose my own medication, damn it!"

Iris held up her hands in mock-surrender, chuckling softly at the playful bite in his tone. Then she leaned down to her father and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "We only tease because we care, you old coot."

"Yeah, yeah, little shit. Let me have my scotch in peace."

"Fine." Iris stood from her father and bunched her hair to one side, gathering it easily in her hands. With her hair poised above a hand towel, she squeezed as much water out of her strands as possible; the few droplets satisfied her. "I'm gonna grab some wine, be right back."

She took a few generous steps to the kitchen, the soft yellow glow of the lamps guiding her to the open doorway of the kitchen, before she heard:

"Markus, did you leave the light on in the studio?"

No, she thought. Markus literally could not forget to turn it off before leaving. And Carl couldn't reach the switch in his wheelchair. She flicked back to the pair, looking at the open glass above the door. Lights. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a spark of fear ignite in her chest.

"No... no." Markus insisted. "I'm sure I didn't."

"Iris-?"

"You know I wouldn't." She hastily replied, striding quickly to her father's side. Her hand grasped the top of his wheelchair, gripping tightly. Iris tried to ignore the tremors of her hand and the heavy beats of her heart. God, she could feel ice in her veins. Someone's here. A stranger in the house. What're they going to do? Steal? Hurt us?

"Call the police."

Carl sounded calmer than she was. He handled fear far easier than Iris. He'd dealt with it more than her when he was growing up. Sure, she'd felt it before, but not in this capacity. Never before had she been the victim of robbery. Someone unknown in her home, in her safe space, in her fucking studio… Iris felt violated. She grew up in this mansion for 22 years of her life. It's all she could remember. And Carl? He bought this place so Iris could have a good upbringing, close to Leo and his mother. This was his first ever true home. Iris could only imagine how he was feeling.

Through Iris' ears she could hear the gentle hum of, "Detroit Police, what's your emergency?"

Markus' calm tone helped ground her in the present. "This is the Manfred's android, at 8941 Lafayette Avenue. We've just returned home and discovered the lights on. There may have been a break-in."

"A patrol car is on the way." Markus set the glass back on the table as the call beeped its end, staring heavily at the light glowing from inside the studio.

"Let's have a look." Carl said, leaning forward in his chair. His eyes stared, fixated, at the studio.

"Dad, no!" Iris' hand atop his wheelchair tightened. "It could be dangerous. What if they have a gun?"

"Iris, there's nothing out of the ordinary here. Nothing knocked over, nothing broken. If they wanted to cause a scene, they would've already. I want to know who's in there."

"Dad—" She whined, fear jumping into her throat. I don't do well under anxiety, nevertheless terror. God forbid she'd try to take a step; it felt like she was frozen with fear.

Markus grabbed at the handles of Carl's chair, gently shooing Iris' hand away.

"Markus, no—"

If anything happened to either of them, Iris didn't know what she would do.

"Stay. Your father and I will check it out."

Nope, how about the three of us bolt it and wait outside until the patrol car rolls in? That sounds much safer. Then again, maybe her father was right. Was she overthinking the situation?

As Markus and her father rolled away, Iris stared at Markus' back, biting the inside of her cheek. If anything happened to either of them, she wouldn't forgive herself.

So, terror be damned, she followed.

The door to the studio flung themselves open, with Carl and Markus pulling through first. At a quick glance over Markus' shoulder, Iris could see a figure looming over her workbench, a hefty pile of her father's work in front of their face. There were a few of Iris' figurines behind the pile, some new pieces she'd been working on.

"Leo…" Iris heard Markus say. The name twisted the ice in her veins to fire. No, she thought. Not him.

"Oh, look who's here!" Leo announced with fake joy, twisting to look at the trio. "My father's plastic toy!"

Iris pushed ahead of her father, her feet pounding against the floor.

"Leo?!"

"And the princess herself. Glad to see I've been graced with your presence again."

"Leo," Iris stammered. "What the hell is going on?"

Leo turned his back to the group, his hand going to rest on the pile of artwork spread before himself. Iris could see her mini Monster present sitting in the middle of the pile, like a paperweight.

"You two refused to help me, so I helped myself." He grabbed at the Monster statue and turned back to them, staring at Iris with bloodshot eyes as he held up the gift. "It's crazy what some people will pay for this shit."

He was high, Iris knew. The way he stuttered, his jerky movements, bloodshot eyes. She wondered when he last had a hit. An hour ago? Two? Maybe he had one ten minutes before they walked through the front door. One thing Iris knew for sure—Leo wasn't in his right mind.

"Leo, please—" Iris begged. She took a step forward, her arm outstretched to grab her present. Leo jerked his arm away, miscalculating his grip on the statue. It slipped and tumbled to the floor, landing with a harsh CRACK!

Truth be told, there wasn't much damage. An ear snapped right off and a jagged crack formed, zigging down its face, but that didn't matter. What mattered was it was her fucking birthday present and Leo ruined it.

"That's a'damn shame."

The words slurred together as Leo bent down, surveying the piece. "Eh, it'll still sell. An Iris Manfred Original goes for a lot nowadays, doesn't it, little sis?"

As he reached down to grab the piece, Carl growled, "Don't touch it!"

Leo gave an audible sigh and straightened up from the ground, scratching at an arm. "Look, they're going to be mine sooner or later anyways. Just think of it as a down payment on my inheritance from you, and a loving present from my sister."

"Leo, please stop," Iris begged. "Let's talk about this."

"Markus, get him away from here." Carl commanded, fuming. "Get him out of here!"

The LED on Markus' forehead swirled in yellow, taking the command. He took two generous steps forward, placing himself in front of Iris and gently pushing her towards her father. She did, her nose scrunched and hands balled into fists by her side, but Iris took three generous steps to her father's side.

"Leo," Markus started, "Be reasonable. This isn't going to get you anywhere."

Leo ignored the request and instead loomed over Markus' shoulder, staring straight at Carl. "All you ever do is tell me to go away…" He began pacing, back and forth as he stuttered out, "What's wrong, dad? Am I not good enough for you?"

Iris opened her mouth to speak, to try to bring reason into the equation, but Leo continued, "Not perfect, like this FUCKING THING?!"

"Leo, for the love of god—" Iris began.

"That's enough! Get out, right now!" Carl screamed. He wheeled himself forward, shoving haphazardly at Leo. "Go on, move!"

Leo did just the same, swatting his father's hands away, words blurring together. "What makes it so special anyway, huh? What's it got that I don't?"

Leo, in a blaze of fury, grabbed onto the back of Carl's wheelchair, spun him around, and flung him back towards Iris.

"Leo!" Iris screeched. Her hands grabbed onto the sides to steady Carl's spin, and she bent on her knees to look up at her dad's contorted expression. She whispered a silent, "Are you okay?" to her father; he grimly nodded.

"C'mon, tin can!" Leo shoved at Markus' shoulders harshly, knocking the android back a couple inches. "Let's see what you got!"

Carl scrunched his face as Leo repeated the shove, unhappy as he said, "Markus, don't defend yourself, you hear me? Don't do anything." His breathing came in quick pants, and Iris' worry jumped into her throat. His heart. He didn't get his medication, and this break-in isn't doing any favors. Markus' LED swirled in yellow and he stood still, arms rigid by his sides.

Iris replayed the order and disagreed. "Dad, are you kidding me? If Leo gets his ass beat, he had it coming. Markus, defend yourself."

"Go'head, hit me. Whatcha waiting for?" Leo taunted as the LED swirled again. Uncoordinated hands pushed at the android, "Think you're a man, then act like one!" He heaved forward and connected his fist to Markus' jaw, sending the latter staggering back.

"Markus," Carl panted as Markus' hand went to his jaw, holding it as if pained by the aggressive act, "Don't you dare listen to her. Do not—"

Iris interrupted haughtily. She was tired of Leo acting like a god damn child, and if she couldn't be the one to slap sense into him, why not Markus? "Dad, Leo's the one coming here and—"

Carl raised his voice, coughing. "Iris Wren, that is your brother—my son—and he won't get hurt on my watch."

"C'mon, dad, you don't want your perfect little machine to hurt me?"

Markus stared intently at Leo, fists balled by his sides. Leo chuckled, "Don't think it can. It's too much of a pussy." His hands were more coordinated for this shove; perfectly aligned with the triangles of Markus' shoulder blades, sending him flying to the side of Carl's paint table.

"Leo, stop it!" Carl wheezed, a hand flying to his chest.

"Dad," Iris pleaded, her hand going to cradle his wrinkled cheek. "Hey, dad, look at me. Are you okay?"

"Too scared to fight back, you fuckin' BITCH?" Iris could hear Leo taunt, a hefty punch following. She winced when she heard the fist connect with metal not once but twice, but she didn't dare take her eyes off Carl. His eyes scrunched together tight, pants gaining in procession. She'd seen this once before. The day he went to the hospital. Not again.

"Oh, that's right," Leo muttered, "I forgot, you're not a real person! Just a FUCKING PIECE OF PLASTIC—!"

"LEO—" Carl cried out, clutching his chest. "Leave him alone!"

"Dad, ignore Leo and lookatme, god dammit!"

Markus could handle it. The two would be fine. She wasn't so sure if Carl would be. Iris tried to hold her father's gaze, but she didn't think it was possible. Hand clutched to chest, eyes shut tight, heavy breathing. She would've run to grab his medication, but she deemed it a bad idea to leave Carl alone with the other two fighting.

"Listen to me," Leo grasped tightly to Markus' shirt, balling the cotton in his fists. "I'm gonna destroy you. Then it'll just be me and my family. I'm gonna tear you apart and no one's gonna give a shit—"

Oh, that one struck a chord in Iris.

"Leo, shut the fuck up—" She started, and just as she turned to look at the pair Markus shoved at Leo's shoulders, sending her older brother flying.

Iris and Carl watched in stunned silence as the back of his skull connected with the end of the giant mechanical chair.

CRUNK.

The sound reverberated through Iris, replaying like a record. Her eyes followed Leo's movements, his body flopping to the floor like dead weight. Like a dead man.

No. No.

"Leo?" She whispered. "Leo?"

Silence.

Iris scrambled to her feet, tripping on the length of her dress to rush to his side. "Leo, hey asshole, look at me. Leo!" Her hands grabbed at his shoulders, shaking them. "Leo, c'mon, asshole, please. Leo!" Her shoulder brushed against another on the floor, but she didn't bother turning her head. She knew it was her father.

Leo's eyes stared, wide and unmoving, to the ceiling above.

"Leo." Carl moaned, chocking on the name. "Oh, my god."

Iris's bottom lip trembled as Carl rested a hand on Leo's chest. She couldn't see his chest rise. What she could see was a small puddle of red growing from where Leo's head connected with the chair.

And her tears began to fall. Please, please.

"Leo…" Iris whined his name like a plea. "C'mon, Leo."

"My little boy…" Carl whispered, sniffling. Iris brushed the messy locks from Leo's face, trying to push them back in place. She felt something warm and wet behind his ear, could see the blood coating her fingers as she gently trailed the tips downward to his neck. Find the carotid. Find the heartbeat.

"Carl, Iris… I…" Markus stared at the two, pure regret filling his green eyes. Iris looked up to him, tears streaming down her face as he let out a shaky breath. Regret and hatred and pain shone through, his hands shaking silently. She didn't think she could see such emotion fill him.

With her two working brain cells, she thought. He didn't follow dad's last order. A direct order. That's not possible in an android.

But it was in a deviant.

Markus hung his head low, LED blinking furiously in red as he shook it rapidly. Iris turned to her brother's unconscious form, staring at him. No movement, no breathing. God, was he really dead?

She could hear Markus mutter, "No, no," over and over again behind her, the severity of the situation growing rapidly in mind. He brought his hands to his face, covering his temple, rocking himself back and forth.

And if the situation couldn't get any worse, the sirens of police cars reverberated through the studio.

Carl looked to Markus, holding back a sob. "They'll destroy you, Markus! You gotta go! Get outta here!"

"I—I, I didn't mean to—"

"Markus," Iris spoke softly. It was all she could manage. "Dad's right. You gotta go. It's the only way you'll be safe. Go."

"Iris…" He looked to her, eyes begging and pleading, "I can—I can't leave—"

"GET OUT!" Carl screamed. "NOW! GO!"

Iris' eyes flicked to the automatic door, two policemen pulling through with guns immediately drawn. They surveyed the room, and Iris was sure she knew what they saw. A dead man, two injured on the floor, and a nervous android as their immediate suspect.

"Don't fuckin' move!" One barked, jeering his gun at Markus. The deviant's hands flew to the air, surrendering. But it's not enough.

"Hey, hey!" Iris screamed. "Don't—"

BANG.

THUD.

Blue blood mixing with red.

"Miss?"

Iris crawling to Markus, lifeless on the floor.

"Miss Manfred."

Broken sobs escaping her chest as she hovered over his face, green eyes shutting down to black nothingness. Her leaning down, resting her forehead against his. One hand laid against his chest, clutching his shirt.

"Miss Manfred, please!" The detective in front of her huffed. Her brown orbs went from the table to the man in front of her, void of any emotion. Dull. Something Iris never was. "I understand this is a difficult situation."

She spoke for the first time since sitting down on the uncomfortable metal chair. "You have no. idea."

She didn't know what she expected her voice to sound like, but monotonous wasn't on her list. Reality continues to disappoint.

"Forgive me, I don't." The man ran a hand through his short tresses. "But the quicker we do this, the quicker you can get out of here. You can go visit your brother and father in the hospital. Sound fair?"

The hand resting on the table twitched, index finger tapping slowly. Iris stared at it, the mess of red and blue decorating her skin bringing her back to the studio floor.

"Fine, detective Reed." She hummed softly, the other hand fingering at a hole in her dress's trail. She remembered it ripping when one of the officers pulled her off Markus and stood her up. When she looked back to her father, she saw him lying on the ground beside Leo. Lying there, still, unmoving. A heart attack.

"Dad?" She asked. "Hey, dad!"

No response.

Iris tripped over herself to get to him. Managed to knock her chin and elbow against the ground, scraping the delicate skin. The chiffon dress bunched when she tried to move, and it snagged on one of the bolts sticking from the bottom of the mechanical chair. Iris grabbed the fabric, ignoring the quick tear in protest, and knelt beside her father.

Her hands grabbed at Carl's shoulders, shaking him just as she did Leo. "Dad, hey, wake up! DAD!?"

She started screaming at anyone who'd listen. "HELP! PLEASE! HE MISSED HIS MEDICINE! HELP HIM, HELP HIM PLEASE—"

"Miss Manfred, will you please answer the question?" Iris heard Reed snap.

She blinked slowly, looking to him. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

He sighed loudly, leaning back into his chair. "Are you planning to be uncooperative for the entire interview?"

Iris' gaze hardened, fists tightening quietly. "Excuse me?"

The detective huffed, "I've asked you this question three times now and—"

She leaned forward in her chair, the scrape of the metal legs echoing uncomfortably. "I may have lost the three men I care most about most in this world in a matter of minutes, so excuse me if I'm being uncooperative!"

The statement landed like a rock in her stomach, and she just realized how much it hurt to say out loud. Because if it was talked about, that made it true. Markus was dead and gone, her father had a heart attack, and she didn't know if Leo would ever wake up, and—

"I don't mean to be rude, miss Manfred. I'd just like to get you out of here as quick as possible, for your benefit. Please state your full name and occupation for the record, as well as your place of residence."

Iris' anger fizzled and she nodded, pressing her lips together. "Iris Wren Manfred. I'm an artist. Sculptor. I live at 8941 Lafayette Avenue."

"Okay." Reed nodded back. "Good. I have a question about your android. The serial numbers indicate it's an RK200 model. That doesn't match any from our CyberLife records. Where'd you get it?"

The word it stung. "Markus. His name was Markus."

Lying there, a hole in his forehead. She could see wires and flecks of metal. Blue blood seeping through him. Iris was on her knees by his side.

"No," She chocked silently. "Not you. I can't lose you too."

Her hiccups stilled as she rested her forehead against his, sobs wrecking through her. His skin was already cold. She brought her hand to his chest, right over where his thirium pump was. His chest didn't rise to meet her touch. Her fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt, pleading to whatever deity was in the sky.

This couldn't be happening. She potentially lost her brother, but she knew for sure she just lost her best friend. Make it stop.

"I didn't ask its name. I asked where it was from."

"HE. Where HE was from."

Reed pinched the bridge of his nose. "Miss Manfred, please cooper—"

"I'll cooperate when you do, detective." She crossed her arms across her chest, staring. "His name was Markus."

Reed looked to the glass window beside him. "The witness is acting hostile, let's take a quick recess."

Iris snorted. "Hostile?! Your bigotry is the only thing host—"

The door behind Iris squeaked open, and a man much older than Reed stepped through. He had long, scraggly grey hair, a decently long beard, and a case file in hand.

"Go on recess, Reed. I'll take it from here."

"Anderson," Reed snapped, "You don't need to—"

"Go, detective." The newcomer smiled—no, scratch that; it's a smirk for sure—and meandered his way to Reed. "I'll finish the interview. Go."

Reed kicked his chair back, the legs of his chair scraping the floor loudly. As Anderson eased his way into the seat Reed stormed out the door, mumbling what Iris assumed were obscenities under his breath.

Anderson dropped the file onto the table beside Iris' discarded purse, sighing. "So, miss Manfred. My name is lieutenant Hank Anderson; I'll be finishing your interview."

Iris nodded, slowly rubbing a hand up and down her arm. "Okay."

God, she thought. I sound like a child. Small, weak, sniffling.

"Let's start from the beginning, alright? Markus. Where'd you get him?"

She sighed, shutting her eyes, but answered nonetheless. "One of dad's old friends was with CyberLife. Markus was a new model that never made it to the market. He was a gift… for my dad, after he was paralyzed. He helped with the household chores."

"Okay. And tonight: was this his first act of deviancy?"

Iris bit her lip. Depends on what you consider deviant.

"Yes. His life was in danger; it overrode his system, I guess. Can't really blame him."

She twisted one leg atop the other, letting her foot gently swing back and forth as her hands went to adjust the length of her dress. The edge of her black flat bumped against her calf. The first pair of shoes she saw and tossed on before leaving home in a police cruiser.

Anderson let out a small huff, a gentle smile gracing his old features. "Guess not. Markus called the police at approximately 9:45 pm tonight, that's correct?"

"Yes." Iris answered, explaining the situation. She brought up her brother, his addiction, what lead up to the events that transpired in the studio. Anderson asked if she'd like to press charges for the breaking and entering. Iris adamantly refused.

"Court-ordered rehab, maybe." She replied, "But no charges."

Anderson nodded. "Okay. And I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do about Markus. He'll be sent to a landfill after being dismantled."

Her heart caught in her throat at the information. Markus, her friend, dismantled. Broken. Thrown away like a piece of trash. Shot in the head without a second thought.

"You're sure there's nothing that can be done?" She looked to the lieutenant hopefully.
He shook his head solemnly. "No, sorry. Once an android deviates, it's taken and dismantled. There's nothing we can do to recover it."

Iris looked back down to the table, silent as she stewed in the painful reality. "Okay. Thank you. It's nice to talk to someone who doesn't mind androids."

She heard the man snort, and she looked up with an eyebrow raised.

"I don't like them. Hate the fuckers, in fact."

Oh. "You do a good job of hiding it."

The lieutenant leaned forward with a kind smile. "Well, I know how to leave my baggage at the door when there's a witness who's obviously been through hell. Unlike some in the police force." He looked over to the glass and Iris could imagine Reed on the other side, swearing his head off at the obvious jab.

She chuckled for the first time since the accident.

"You're free to go, miss Manfred. If you have any questions, just let me know."

She let a soft smile form. "Thanks, but I think I'm good. I just want to go home, smoke three dozen cigarettes and cry into a pan of macaroni and cheese."

"Sounds like a plan." Anderson chuckled. He kicked the chair out from behind him and opened the door, holding it so she could step through. "I hope your night gets better."

Iris walked through it, thanking him and meandering through the police station. Her shoes were silent as she took slow steps through the station, finding her way to the front door.

Just as her hand reached for the door's handle, she heard a voice call, "Miss Manfred!"

She turned her head and saw a man speedwalking her way, her red purse in hand.

"Oh, thank you! I forgot," Iris apologized to the man—the android. This one was unlike any she'd seen before. He wore the regular armband, the CyberLife triangle on his chest, but he wore a nicely fitted suit and a tie that perfectly fit him. Not the regular outfit. Fancy.

"My pleasure. Would you like me to hail you a cab as well?" He asked, brown eyes looking to hers. She noticed an unruly strand of his hair that swooped onto his forehead. Heh, she thought, what a cute quirk.

Iris shook her head. "No, thank you. I'll be fine. Do you have a name?"

"Connor. I'm a new CyberLife model."

"I see." She grabbed the door handle again. "Well, have a good night, Connor."

He gave a curt nod. "You as well, miss Manfred."

The door shut behind her and she ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily. So much to unpack in one night.

She could use a cigarette. Or twenty.

Who would stop her?

Her heart ached as she hoisted her purse into her hand. What she would give to hear Markus complain about her cancer sticks one last time.

Iris unzipped her purse and searched for her pack, rummaging through the mess of old receipts, some lipsticks, odds and ends, and her lighter.

No pack?

"Where the fuck… Ugh." She found one alright. A smushed, mostly empty pack of Marlboro's at the bottom of her purse. She wondered if it got smushed during the night. Did I land on it? Did someone step on it? Fuck.

Time to head to the convenience store, then.

A/N: Lots of plot and sad emotions in this one! I'm glad it's finally out. I can't wait to get the next one out, too. Can you guess who she's going to meet at the convenience store? ;)