Syringe in One Hand, Gun in the Other 8 (Patreon)

A/N: while we wait for the vote to finish, have a commissioned chapter.
A/N: also, yes’s have it. Gonna be a bit slow on this, though.

-VB-

Syringe in One Hand, Gun in the Other

Chapter 8

-VB-

Lisa Wilbourne

It was not an offer she made lightly but it was an offer she made with the most information she had with an unknown future ahead of her.

The society she had lived in and knew how to exploit was gone. The team she had was fractured; Bitch and Brian might still be here for now but they would leave sooner or later. Brian, having somehow survived the Oil Rig Battle, probably because he had a few of Alan’s miracle tinkertech medical syringes on hand, was probably going to meet with Cozen, with whom he had a relationship. Bitch needed a lot of land for her dogs, considering that she managed to recruit Alan into rescuing a few of her dogs already.

“You.”

Alan looked up. The scene felt familiar to Lisa as she stared at the two of them from the seventh floor of the fort.

“Yes?” he asked while setting down his hammer.

“Help me rescue my dogs. They are in Brockton Bay.”

“... Okay.”

And that’s that. As far as Lisa knew, Bitch chose a space right in-between the local refugee camp, which was slowly turning into a city, and Alan’s fortified and expanding compound.

Lisa knew that she could and try to survive out there.

Could.

She also recognized an up and coming powerhouse when she saw them, and Alan was that.

It wasn’t because Alan’s power was awesome; Eidolon could probably pull off a pretty good mimic of his powerset. No, what made Alan awesome was the immortal and growing manpower and the tinkertechs he could make with not even a hundredth of the effort other Tinkers had to put in.

But all of that paled in comparison to what she was really thirsting for: relief from the Thinker headaches. Though they were classified as headaches, Thinker Headaches exerted pain and pressure exceeding regular migraines and closer to cluster headaches. Simply being near him and his clones prevented her power from connecting to her properly and removed the Thinker Headaches that always accompanied her no matter what. Life had always been one more look at something, one more glance at someone, and one more hearing from somewhere to a headache that would eventually leave her incapacitated.

And Alan was a relief.

It was … It was both that relief and the desperation for some kind of protection for Taylor that made her offer herself.

Was it wrong to satisfy that in exchange for her body? Render her own power useless, secure safety for Taylor and her friends, and finally live a normal life, or as close as she can achieve it?

… Maybe it was selfish but it was in no way wrong.

She knocked on the door to what could be best described as a cramped office space that doubled as an oddly silent workshop. She walked in after a moment and found two Alans standing by green workbenches. They saw her.

“So?” she asked them after closing the door behind her.

“... Did you intentionally wear that to influence our decision?” one of them asked.

She shrugged and put up a smile on her lips. “Maybe. I mean, I already found out that you liked what you saw, even when I was covered in dirt and grime.”

He hummed. “It’s hard not to appreciate a girl -.”

“Woman.”

He paused. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not a little girl,” she demanded. “So don’t think of me like one.” Because if he started thinking of her as a girl and not a woman, then there was no way he was going to keep her around. Alan wasn’t into little girls; he liked them big. In a way, her more lean body with generous bust gave her an advantage in regards to his preference.

Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t the meek type of girl but she could play into as many of his preferences as she could remember.

One of the clones got up from his workbench and walked over to her. When she realized he wasn’t slowing, she backed up, only for her back to hit the closed door. Then he was looming over her, looking down at her with … she didn’t know what to call those eyes.

Cold?

Hungry?

Lustful?

Dangerous?

She looked up at them even as she began to feel herself start to tremble.

“Are you asking us to bend you over a table and fuck you until we’re satisfied?” he asked her slowly and lowly with a rumble that almost seemed to make her insides quiver.

“I- T-That’s what I offered.”

But she felt weak. She hated that weakness. She hated it so much.

He leaned down and she flinched.

Then she felt a hand on her thigh and she quivered.

“... I don’t think you’re ready for that,” he whispered and then pulled away quickly but without hurrying.

She stood there and then realized she had been panting.

Ah. She was scared.

“Sure. You offered yourself up to us. We’ll take it,” he replied and made her snap her eyes up to meet his gaze. She saw hunger in there, but he was keeping it and himself restrained. For now. “Maybe when you’re ready, we’ll take you to our bed. But for now, you can rest easy. We’ll keep you and your friends safe.”

“... Thank you,” she whispered before excusing herself. She found her way back to her room, closed the door, and dropped down onto her back with her back to the door.

She did it.

Taylor was safe. Bitch was going to be safe. Brian was going to be safe. Aisha… would probably be safe. She would be safe.

And all it took was dressing up like an airhead girl, showing off her cleavage, shaking her booty, and offering her body. It was … it wasn’t something she was wholly comfortable with.

But she did it.

That’s all that mattered.