Category 8

A gunshot shatters the silence. Pain explodes in her abdomen. Blood rushes forth turning her pale skin red; it's warm and sticky. Sapped of all strength she collapses. First she's lying in the ground as her life pours onto the sand, then she's on a helicopter. They're telling her it's okay but that pain, that ungodly pain, insists otherwise.

A medical bed remains her home for weeks. Pipes run from her arms like she was some sort of machine. Consciousness is fleeting; she's awake, then asleep, then awake again days later. They tell her she survived; one of the five. The list of the dead is long. A man tries to comfort her; her commander. He apologizes for Raven's sacrifice; that he didn't suffer and that he was the hero. It doesn't help. Agony still wracks her body as tears fall like rain. Raven doesn't deserve that fate. Months later she's sat before a man. He dresses in a smart suit. He explains her situation, her discharge; category 8, emotional distress.

Ashe sat bolt upright in bed. Breathing came fast and heavy as though she just ran a marathon. The T shirt stuck to her body, damp with cold sweat. Hands shaking, she lifted the garment and gingerly touched her abdomen. The flesh felt different; not as smooth, warped. It was thankfully intact. She fell back in bed. Still panting, she forced her breathing to normalise. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Sudden movement beside her caused her heart to freeze in fear. Its breakneck beat resumed as familiarity reasserted itself. It's only Beth, there's nothing wrong. I'm safe, I'm okay. I'm fine.

The reality couldn't be argued with however; she wasn't fine. It had been months since her last attack, but the past still hunted her like a pack of wolves snapping at her heels. She could run but, over three years on, it was apparent she couldn't hide. Beth snuggled against her and wrapped an arm gently around her. The panicked thud-thud-thud began to settle down and resume its more rhythmic beat. It wasn't enough. Ashe felt like she was face down in the sand; skin boiling, throat parched. Dressed in nothing but a T shirt and panties, Ashe slipped away from Beth's embrace. The cold night air kissed her thighs caressingly.

Ashe staggered though the apartment, feet padding loudly on the hardwood floor. She ran her hand along the wall for support. Her legs shook with the strain. Reaching the kitchen she opened the valve allowing the cold water to flow free. The liquid was refreshing; washing away the now sticky sweat from her skin. Having filled a glass to the brim, she sipped at it gently. It ran down her dry throat and revitalised it. Better, I'm better. I'm fine.

She flinched again. Hands wrapped themselves around her waist, firm but gentle; like a mother holding a child. Cool, moist lips pressed against her neck. Beth; always there, always understanding.

"Shouldn't you be asleep? You have to be up early tomorrow" Ashe finally managed to talk, having to force each word through her teeth.

"I can spare one night every few months" another gentle kiss.

"I'm fine, Beth" It was only half a lie "I'll be fine, go on back. I'll join you shortly"

A third and final kiss "If you're sure honey"

Beth's bare footsteps faded away leaving Ashe alone in silence. It was blissful. No loud noises; no gunshots or explosions. That life was behind her. She was different, she was safe.

Ashe followed her girlfriend several minutes later, after her breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. Beth was already fast asleep, curled into the foetal position. A smile forced its way across her face. Trying not to awaken the sleeping beauty, Ashe slid cautiously into bed. A few weary minutes later her mind succumbed to oblivion.

Beep-beep-beep, Beep-beep-beep.

The shrill noise cut through the still air like a knife. A pale hand slapped it punishingly, muting its morning cry. The black plastic clock sat in silence. It displayed the time 05:00.