The President's Secretary (Evil Morty X Reader)

Missing

Here's an interesting thing:
The next few chapters will be written in the first person from Katya's perspective. I need a little practice with writing in first person for the... *ahem* Upcoming project. *COUGH COUGH STAY TUNED COUGH HACK BLEGH* Hope you enjoy this little different thing.

Like I've been doing for a long time now, I get ready to go to the cellar to work out. I put on my athletic clothes and go to {Y/N}'s office. They didn't come to bed last night because they were backed up on work. When I open the door, I see them with their head down on their desk, muffled snoring coming from their mouth. I smile and shoot a portal onto the floor and jump through.
When I emerge from the ground and the portal closes, I'm struck with a bone chilling wind. I shudder and walk to the familiar, dilapidated, abandoned log cabin, goosebumps forming on my bare skin. I walk around to the backyard, where I rode on a dogsled for the first time, where I shot my first bear, where I met my little sister. Lots of memories were made here. I stand in front of the cellar doors, which are shrouded by a thin sheet powdery snow. I crouch down and wrap my fingers around the rusty handle, pulling as hard as I can, only to fall onto my back when the door opens much easier than usual. I sit back up, frantically wiping freezing snow off of my bare lower back, the intense cold beginning to burn my skin. I hiss in slight pain. Even though I've felt worse, the unexpected surprise of falling over makes it more painful than usual. I look down at the inside of the cellar door and notice a large dent where the handle is. It looks like it came from the inside. Did I... not notice this before? Confused, I walk downstairs. As usual, the light flickers on, but I'm greeted by a terrifying sight.

Nothing. There's no one there.

It takes me a moment to realize that I'm nearly clinging to the wall. Petrifying horror overcomes my entire body. I let go of the wall and begin pacing around the cellar, passing the chains laying limply on the floor.
"Blyad... blyad... blyad..." I repeat over and over to myself, clutching my hair in my fists and sweating bullets, on the verge of tears, "this isn't happening... h-how... how did he get free? How could I have let him escape!? Th-this is all my fault... I DID THIS!!"
I let out a loud scream and with a nauseating crack, I throw my left fist against the concrete wall with all my might. After about three seconds, I pull my hand away from the bloodstained wall and drop to my knees, letting out a long wail of anguish. I clutch my left wrist in excruciating pain, my tears burning their way into the open gashes in my knuckles. My hand is stuck in a fist, and all my fingers feel like they're shattered in so many places. Blood starts dripping onto my thighs and right hand. The pain only starts to fade when my mind starts racing. What if he got far? What if he found a portal gun? What if he knows where I am? What if he's after {Y/N}!?
I jump to my feet and grab my portal gun that I dropped on the floor. I check where I am to make sure I'm not in the wrong dimension. The screen pops up, saying "ε-122," my original dimension. I set a course for the Citadel and dive through a portal.
Before I can realize, I land flat on the floor of {Y/N}'s office, straight onto my broken hand.
"E-eto pizdets!!" I cry out in pain, writhing on the floor. {Y/N} looks down at me, their eyes wide with surprise.
"Katya!?" They roll their wheelchair over to me and pull me up. "What happened? Are you okay!? You're covered in blood— Oh god, your hand!!"
I slowly back away from {Y/N}. "I... I can't tell you!" I begin to panic, knowing that they'll never see me the same way again after I tell them that I beat up their captor who I locked in my basement for stress relief. {Y/N} approaches me as I try to get away from them.
"Katya, I need to know if you're safe! If you're being hunted down, I need to lock down the Capital!" They grasp my shoulders, but I push them away. They roll backwards, almost falling over before clutching the brakes. {Y/N} stares me in the eyes with betrayal and fear, and I can nearly see their heart shatter right in front of me.
"J-just..." I squeak, on the verge of breaking down, "I... n-need to leave... for a-a few days... m-maybe a... w-week... o-or two... I'll be back, I-I promise... I... I'm s-s-sorry!!"
Without hesitation, I sprint to the bedroom and take off my bloody clothes. I reach into the first aid kit in the closet and get the bone regrowth serum, injecting it into my left hand. My fingers contort and snap into their natural position. I look up from my hand and stare in the mirror at my bare body, at the wreckage on my skin. Bruises, bullet holes, battle scars from enemies and from myself. I look at the words tattooed on my back, stretching from shoulder blade to shoulder blade: "Защищайте невинных, помните павших, наказывайте виновных."
The words, my code of ethics, echo in my head. "Protect the innocent, remember the fallen, punish the guilty."
I ball my hands into fists and begin getting ready. I get dressed in my red turtleneck, leather jacket, jeans and combat boots. I don my surgical mask, something I haven't worn in a very long time, and start packing a small backpack full of clothes, food, bullets, grenades, and the rest of my essentials. I glance over at my bedside table and see a small photo in a frame. I pick it up to see it's a picture of me in my wedding dress, carrying {Y/N} in my arms on our wedding day. I smile and put it in my backpack. I then reach under the bed and grab my dear friend Lisa, causing me to take everything out of my backpack so I can put her at the very bottom. I repack the bag, pull it onto my back, and get Bonnibel from my closet. When I pass the mirror again, I don't see someone's wife. I don't see the Citadel's First Lady. I don't see someone whose whole life is ahead of them. I see who I was before: a scared, lonely little girl with a death wish who lost her way home. I'm okay with that. I shoot a portal at the wall and stare into the spinning blue void.
"I swear to God..." I mutter to myself, "you're dead, you little shit."