Port and Refill

Author's Note: While not explicit, this chapter contains significant elements of non-consent, reluctance, and trauma. It was extremely hard on me to write. If you have any related triggers, please tread carefully.

Chapter 7

I pause. Something feels... off. I stretch out my senses, but there is nothing wrong, nothing out of place. I shrug off my unease and port to the middle of the room. I start examining the painting closely, looking for the alarms I know I will need to bypass. Then I stagger as the collar materializes around my neck.

I fall to the ground as the universe cuts off. I reach for my neck, but pain pulses through me as I touch it and I can't hold back the scream that rips out of me. And then I am sobbing uncontrollably. I know nothing. I can see and hear, but I can't feel, and that is so much worse than being blind and deaf. Footsteps start toward me, and I jerk away, startled and fearful. I want to be gone and away, but my body stays stubbornly in place.

The figure is in all black, her magician's outfit figure-hugging and subtly revealing. The only color is her lips - her dark red lipstick - and I draw away from her, whimpering. Even her eyes are a soft grey. She stares down at me, those lips curving into a cruel smile, and I freeze. I want to run, to hide, but I am paralyzed by her predatory stare. There is a dangerous gleam in her eye as she speaks. "Interesting."

She waves her hand at me, and I float up over her shoulder, head looking down her back. Her hand comes to rest casually on my backside, and I flinch away from her touch.

The second voice comes from behind me, identical but far different in tone, sounding bored by the whole thing. "Stop messing around and get her booked. I need to authorize the press release." I can't help but try to jerk away again. The universe is a mystery to me for the first time in years as I am cut down to only what nature originally endowed me with, and my panic feeds on itself, growing uncontrollably. I start to thrash back and forth. I need to escape this, to get away, anything. The hand on my backside lifts and then slaps me hard, oddly silent, and I freeze in place. I try to cry out but my voice has also been muted, so I watch my tears fall to the ground unaccompanied.

The figure under me is amused as she responds. "Don't worry. I'll take care of her. Promise." I shiver. Then my eyes grow wide as the hand on my backside moves between my legs, caressing me through cloth that is suddenly all too thin. I look up, but the figure in white - otherwise a twin of the one holding me - is facing away, opening a portal and disappearing through it.

Another wave of a hand, and my sobs and cries fill the room. The voice under me has gained a cruel edge. "Oh, you are wonderful. Such a lovely reaction to that toy around your neck. We are going to have so much fun together." Her fingers speed up, and despite everything I feel my hips wanting to move, an unnatural arousal rising through me. I lock them in place, but she feels my muscle tension and simply laughs, a happy delighted sound that's a sharp contrast to her actions. I feel myself move in the air, and then I am floating in front of her. She is still relentlessly working my clit, and I struggle to keep my sobs from turning into something else.

She moves forward, and I stare at her lips to keep away from her eyes. She is directly in front of me, inches away. I should attack her, do something, but I am helpless. Worthless. Her voice is a whisper. "You should stop fighting me, Port. You are mine now. My pitiful sister is gone, and it's just me and you." Her voice turns conversational. "I know you know who I am. Just say my name, and I'll stop." Her smile grows. "I promise."

I stare at her in terror. Of course I know. One of the two most powerful supers in the world. One of the greatest heros. One of my idols, once upon a time. Her fingers speed up, but her voice is unchanging. "Say my name, Port."

I can't fight her. I can't help it. I whisper it through my sobs, even as voice changes, my body betraying me as I start rubbing my crotch against her.

"Mayhem."

* * *

I wake screaming.

I tear away the blankets, and relief floods me as I'm unrestrained. But... no. Oh god. My hands shoot up, but stop inches from the circlet I can feel around my neck. I want to rip it off, but the memory of pain holds me back. I lower my shaking arms, tears blurring my vision.

I stumble out of the bed. I haven't had to walk without my powers in years, and I miss a step and fall hard, jarring my hand as I try to catch myself. I cry out in pain, and the sound makes me realize that something else is also making noise.

Pure panic. I can't feel behind me. I whirl in a circle on the floor, I know that she's behind me, and I sob with relief as I see that I'm still alone. But I can't stay here. I ignore the shouts and scramble toward a corner, hands and feet because I don't trust my legs. The slam as I throw my back into the walls drives the breath from my body, but I ignore it. I have something solid behind me. It is an effort to relearn to use my eyes, but I can watch everything from here, and slowly I feel myself begin to back away from the edge, even as I look madly back and forth, up and down, trying to see everything at once.

I want to close my eyes, to meditate, but I can barely make myself blink. I want to bury my head in my arms, but that would make me blind again. I concentrate simply on existing and not falling into the pit of despair that looms in my thoughts.

* * *

Time passes. I knew it was happening but I have no sense of how much. I exist in limbo. I tremble in fear as I feel my eyes grow heavy, even as I move them faster. The idea of lying down and deliberately closing them is excruciating.

The voice has grown silent, but it starts up again. Another joins it. I glance over intermittently, the door normally only in the corner of my vision. There is one large figure barely visible, and a smaller one wearing a uniform. I think they are arguing, but I have no attention left to spare for words. There is a loud slam and I half fall over before pulling myself back up.

I start to shake as the door opens. My, "no," isn't even a whisper. I can barely keep from spoiling myself as the large figure approaches. I feel my mouth moving, praying, but I have no idea what words I am saying, if any.

It squats down in front of me, still terrifying large, and I try to shrink back. One impossibly huge hand reaches down and gently touches my knee. I want to pull away, but I feel... fur?

No. Hair. I... I

look

at him. My brain feels frozen. It seems like it takes hours for perception to fully restart, but I know... I mouth his name. Then softly, unbelievingly. "Boss?"

His grin was like the sunset. He says my name - I had a name again - "Port." Then opened his hands wide. And with a sob, I threw myself into them. I am - I was - Port.

His arms circled around me, like the world's strongest fuzziest teddy bear, and I could finally let go. I sobbed and screamed and whimpered, while he held me and stroked my back, repeating my name over and over. But eventually, finally, I was done. I felt hollowed and impossibly calm. My panic was still there on the other side of an invisible emotional wall, only the Boss's presence holding it back. But I could think. I looked up at him and gave a tremulous smile. "Thank you." My voice was hoarse and soft, but he grinned again and patted my head.

He shifts so his back is against the wall, and I watched, detached, as the room whirled around me. He spoke my name, quieter than I've ever heard him. This time it's a question. "Port."

I searched his eyes. "Yes?"

He looked serious. "What do you remember?"

I hesitated. And then it rips through me, and I wanted to cry all over again. The fight. Me egging Buzz on. Refill. Oh gods, Refill. How could I have forgotten her, even for a minute. Let alone for what must have been hours. I damned Mayhem all over again as I tried to keep from falling apart again. I looked up at him and couldn't make myself ask, but he guessed, and my heart eased as he smiled. "She is fine. You were in time."

My breath left me in rush of pure relief, and I coughed as it irritated my sore throat. After I recovered I give his arm a hug. "Thank you."

He smiled again, then went back to serious. I had to strain to hear him. "Port. Your reaction," I tensed, but waited for him to continue, "My daughter. She was the same."

I stared up at him, confused. Then it hit me. He thought he knew why I was panicking. And he was half right - I was still on the edge of hysteria over having my powers suppressed. His daughter must also have enhanced sense. I wondered when she had been collared.

He continued. "I cannot remove it. I would if I could. But," and he leaned down, "I can do this. I give you my oath, Port. While you wear this," and he tapped it with one giant finger, "while I draw breath, I will be your shield. Your wall. I will watch you and protect you. You are

safe

." He emphasized the last word, hard and sharp.

I stared up at him, wordless. I opened my mouth to protest, but it caught in my throat. He was staring off into space, and that look in his eyes... and he'd said "was". So I swallowed down the words I wouldn't have meant anyway, and just said "Thank you," again. His expression eased, and he leaned back, cradling and rocking me.

His words were soft. "Sleep, little one. You must recover still. I will be here." And then he started humming, some song I didn't know, but the sound soothing and gentle as it vibrated through my body.

And I did what I thought was impossible a few minutes ago. I closed my eyes and let unconsciousness take me.

* * *

Assholes were disturbing my happy place.

I drifted out of sleep slowly. Memory returned with it. I cringed mentally at the fight. I couldn't believe how mind-numbingly stupid, how idiotic, how out of control I'd been. I'd escalated at every turn. I'd endangered a team of heros. I'd forgotten that being aware is useless if you don't pay attention, and almost gotten Refill killed. How could I ask her to forgive me? I could barely forgive myself. I clung to the fact that she was alive and safe.

I wanted to sit, safe in the Boss's arm, and wallow in my misery. But the argument going on outside my cell was getting louder and impossible to ignore.

"-get him out of there. Now. This is highly against regulations-"

"-told you. He swore an oath. He takes it seriously. Besides, you saw the tape. He's comforting her, she had a panic attack-

"-are you kidding me? It's a trick. I thought you knew better than that, sir. The little tramp pulls some act to get off on a technicality-"

The Boss's growl filled the room. I looked up at him. If he'd been looking at me like that I'd have run away, even if I was Paper to his Spock. Since he was being my wall though, I closed my eyes and got to be happy as his voice filled with menace.

"Little man, if you ever say that again, I will challenge you."

There was a pause. The guy's voice was noticeably higher. "Y-you can't-"

Sandstorm cut in. Smooth, but with an undercurrent of anger I hadn't caught before. "Actually, he can. Supercut vs Indiana, 2003."

There was another pregnant pause, and I almost felt like giggling. Then he finally muttered something about his supervisor, and his footsteps retreated, almost - but not quite - at a run.

Sandstorm's voice was calm again. "Petty little coward." The Boss snorted, and this time I did giggle. I heard Sandstorm move up to the door, and then hesitate. His voice softened. "May I come in?"

I nodded against the Boss's arm, and he must have made some motion because I heard Sandstorm approach. He stopped a few feet away, and with an effort I wiggled and turned in the Boss's arms, then opened my eyes and looked at him. And then re-closed them and looked again.

He was wearing a suit - and even in this state I could tell it was exquisitely tailored - and his hijab. And that beard... the laughter bubbled out of me. I couldn't stop it, and it was only when I felt the edge of hysteria looming that I cut it off, burying myself in the Boss's arm. I took deep breaths, calming myself. I lifted my head slowly. "Sorry."

He smiled gently. "It's fine." His face went back to neutral, and I tensed. "Port.. I'm so very sorry. That whole fight was my fault. Thank you for saving Refill."

I stared at him, mouth agape. And then said the most intelligent thing I could at that moment: "...what?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I should have known Buzz Cut was emotionally compromised. It's obvious looking back. But protocol stated you should be arrested by another female if possible, and I didn't think you'd want Refill to do it. And Buzz asked." He looked at me directly. "So yes. My call, my fault."

I didn't say anything, and after a moment he continued. "And..." he hesitated, then forged ahead. "I wish I'd known you'd been traumatized by a collar before. I know you were trying to tell us," he rushed to add, "but at the time..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "The whole thing was mishandled- no. It was a fucking mess. And it was my job to make it not be." He met my eyes again. "I've taken full responsibility. I promise you, there won't be any charges or repercussions about the fight."

I wasn't sure what to say. First the Boss's assumptions about my freakout, now Sandstorm... both half right, both half wrong. I didn't know how to correct them. Plus, a tiny part of me was pointing out that I was currently under arrest, and talking without my brain fully operational was a good way to get into more trouble.

Since I was apparently in the clear about the fight, I settled for talking about that. "I'm sorry too. About the fight. I don't... I was just so angry with Buzz Cut. I don't know why."

He and the Boss exchanged a look, and I frowned, confused. Then the sound of footsteps registered, and we all looked over as Petty Little Coward and friends cautiously entered the room. It took me a moment to focus that far, but a guy in a suit stepped forward and I guessed I was looking at the prison warden.

He surveyed us, then spoke. "You are both in violation of regulations. Remove yourself from the cell so we can," and here a brief pause, "

resecure

the prisoner."

I shuddered slightly. There was something... off... about the warden. I didn't feel any emotions from him at all. Not even disgust or hate. His eyes took me in like I was a thing, not a person.

Sandstorm stepped forward, in between us, and begun quoting something. The warden started talking back, but I tuned them out. This was shaping up to be a fight, but it this battle wasn't worth it. I said, softly, "Put me down." The Boss didn't hear me, his concentration on the argument, and I thumped his arm and said it loudly. It fell into a gap in the conversation, and everyone went silent. "Put. Me. Down."

He looked at me, and I nodded sharply. And then he lowered me to the floor.

I rose up, slowly and carefully. I felt like a newborn colt. I patted his arm. "Watch my back, ok?" He gave me a guarded smile, then turned his attention to the guards. I could almost feel them wilt back, even without my power.

I shuffled forward to the middle of the cell, not lifting my feet, then turned slowly around, surveying it. Tension sang along my spine. I knew they were all watching me, and only the Boss kept me from spinning in place. I could practically feel Mayhem directly behind me. I chanted "The Boss has my back," over and over in my head to help keep it together, but then that started to make me laugh and I had to quit. It wasn't worth risking it when I didn't know if I'd be able to stop.

The bed was in the wrong corner. And it had space under it. I shuffled forward and pulled the bedding off, dragging it carefully into the corner where I could see the full room. I heard someone - I think the warden - start to protest, but his voice cut off and I knew my protectors must have made some motion. I arranged it carefully, then sat down and felt myself relax infinitesimally. Two walls and a floor. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than anything else I was going to get.

The Boss was still staring down the warden. Sandstorm was watching me, concern on his face. I nodded to him, and tried to give a reassuring smile. I'm not sure it worked, but I kept going. "I'll be fine. You can go." He looked unconvinced, so I tried to put some strength in my voice. "Please."

Sandstorm walked out. He was stiff with anger, and he paused and stared at the warden before standing off to the side. The Boss followed him, then spun and planted himself next to the door, his back against the cell. That started another argument, but I tuned it out. I had more important things to worry about.

I'm safe,

I told myself.

The Boss is there. I can see everything. There's no one hiding.

But I couldn't stop the small trembling that shook my entire body. Couldn't keep from darting my eyes around the room, searching. Needing to know. Needing to feel, but knowing I wouldn't be able to. I ruthlessly suppressed any thoughts of Refill. There would be time for me to feel sorry for myself about that later, when I wasn't about to freak out.

I was just glad that two heros were standing up for me. It gave me a little bit of hope. And... well, damned if I didn't have to piss like a racehorse, but there was no way I was doing that until Petty Little Coward and the Creep were gone.

I leaned back against the walls and waited for them to all go away. Or for me to finally lose it.