Chapter Text
Hazel eyes blinked once. Then twice. Then three times.
Breathe.
She needed to breathe.
One breath, then came the second.
She choked on the third.
Sweaty, disgusting, rotten fingertips brushed her cheek.
“Gracie,” A voice that made her ears ring and eyes water from the sheer stank of that awful breath made her stomach churn and vomit come up from her stomach to her throat.
She swallowed it down and choked on that as well.
Tears slid down her cheeks and that made her even fucking angrier as she screamed at herself to kick the old walking corpse, grab what's left of his hair and kick him in the balls, move, do something, fucking anything but stand there.
But she just stuttered out a sob like a pathetic little girl that she was.
What a mess. She was a mess. No wonder her mother got killed in front of her. No wonder Emily died too. She couldn't protect anyone.
She couldn't even protect herself.
Gideon. That man. That awful, awful…..thing.
It wasn't a man. Maybe at one point it used to be.
But no longer.
His body twisted and morphed, as his hands grabbed her throat, a laugh that made her skin trickle escaping his lips.
“You cannot escape us Gracie,” His voice was louder, meaner and way, way more terrifying than before.
She could feel her body slowly give up, could feel her lips turn blue and sheer desperation for oxygen build up in her lungs.
“You can never escape us Gracie!” He laughed, his voice mixed with Zeno's as his body morphed into odd shapes.
And that was all that Grace could take.
She woke up screaming, her entire body seizing and shaking, tears streaming down her face as she stumbled, trying desperately to hang onto something, anything.
“F-f-fu-fuuck!” She let out between choked breaths, her hands clutching the wall.
When had she fallen off of her bed?
“Fuck,” Another hiccup, her knees coming up to her chest and her nails digging into the flesh of her own cheeks, until a metallic smell hit her nose.
“Fu-fuc-fuck!” She screamed, as soft hands hugged her, making her stomach twist again. She woke Emily up. Again.
The nine year old child that she was supposed to care for, who was currently caring about her.
“I-i-i- I'm, so-so-sorry, Emily,” She began, as she looked at the girl, getting only a soft smile in turn as the little one hugged her.
“Bad dream?” The kid asked instead of acknowledging her apology.
“Y-y-y-ou shouldn't have to d-d-de-eal,” Grace continued to try and apologize, but once again, Emily only tightened her hold.
“I had those in the beginning too.” The kid said, her tone warm.
“You made them go away.” The sentence melted her heart, what was left of it, as she hugged her adopted daughter and allowed her tears to fall freely again.
God she was such a fucking mess.
“So don't worry, I'll make sure to chase them away for you, Grace.” Her adoptive daughter mumbled, as she tried to help Grace up, her tiny body too weak to hold up the weight of a grown ass woman.
But still, that didn't stop Emily from huffing and trying even harder, giving Grace the strength to get up and shakily hold onto both her child and the wall for support.
Ever since that god forsaken day, it's been like this. Every single night since the ninth of October, she had vivid nightmares that made her scream bloody murder. Every single day, she had panic attacks that prevented her from functioning normally.
It got so bad that after the first week back at work, her supervisor made her take time off. It got so bad that she barely left the house at all, let alone without a weapon.
It got so bad that she was ordering groceries and everything else to her address instead of going to the store like a normal person. And it's been a month.
A whole ass month.
Her brain was a mess, her body was a mess and her entire soul felt crushed. She had no idea what to do. Therapy didn't help. Neither did medication.
She was left scarred and scared. And she was so fucking tired of it.
Emily helped her to the bathroom, her small, cute face making Grace curse herself again. She took in a fucking kid. And yet she wasn't giving her the life that she deserved. Instead, she locked herself in the house and by proximity, Emily as well.
She wished she could give the little girl the whole world after what she's been through. She wished she could at the very least give Emily a normal day at the park where she could interact with other kids, if nothing else.
As if sensing her worries, the little angel hugged her from the side and slowly released her, her voice soft and yet stern.
“You gave me a better life. So I'll try my best to make yours better as well, Grace.”
Despite her situation and despite her sizzling self hatred, she smiled. Genuinely.
But the ring of her phone broke the moment.
Emily quickly ran towards the noise of it, and walked back with it in hand, handing it over to Grace as soon as her little feet hit the bathroom tiles.
Caller ID: Unknown
Huh? Who the hell?
With shaky fingers, she accepted the call.
“H-h-he-llo?” She stuttered, mentally cursing herself for her tone. God fuckign damn it.
“Hello, Grace.” A gruff voice spoke over the other line, raspy and deep.
Who the fuck?
“It's me, Leon. DSO.”
Her eyes widened. Leon? He hadn't called nor messaged her since the incident. Well…it's not like he had any obligation to. But that's the reason that she hadn't even originally recognized his voice.
“U-huh. Is ev-everything okay?” She asked, forcing her voice to be as steady as possible.
“....by the tone of your voice, I should be the one asking that.” Leon said, making her almost snap and break the line. Who the hell did he think he was? Only the man that saved her life, her brain supplied, but she ignored it. She was annoyed, angry, sleep deprived and the last thing that she needed was Leon's sudden inquiry about her wellbeing.
Due to her silence, most likely, the DSO agent continued speaking. “I was just calling to see if you could help out with some reports between the FBI and the DSO. I've called your office first but they've told me that you're on medical leave due to mental health reasons.” No privacy was allowed for her, or so it seemed. She'd have a talk with her so-called supervisor about this when she had the time.
“Y-yeah. Sure. I, we could,” Grace looked down at Emily and let out a curse under her breath. “My place? Maybe you could come over s-so we co-could do it, be,be-because of Emily?” She overexplained, her tone breathy and uneven, no matter how hard she tried to keep it steady.
Gee, good fucking going Grace. You're doing amazing beating the fucking mental breakdown allegations on your plate.
“Sure thing. When could we get this done?” Leon asked, making her bite her nails until her teeth met her skin. When? When….
Well fuck if she knew. If she waited too long, she'd likely be even more irritated due to her sleep deprivation or even worse mentally due to her constant panic attacks and nightmares.
“To-today? Around six?” She answered, or well, almost asked instead.
“Alright.” And with that. The mighty DSO agent broke the line.
She sent him her location over text and took a deep breath.
Fuck this job and fuck the entirety of the FBI and DSO and whatever other organization there was that got her into this mess