A Hero Among Us (closed)

heartofcourage

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The city beyond her window was sleek and shining in the dying light of afternoon. It was a warm summer day, the skyscrapers casting deep shadows over Twins City. Mixed in with the buildings of glass and steel were those that were constructed of stone and brick. They were left over from a bygone era when the city was just beginning to flourish. Beyond the green expanse of the nature zone was the oldest part of town, dotted with squat buildings that had seen better days and the most ancient structures that were built into the towering rock that had defined the old city so many centuries before.

Gracie often wondered what was happening in that part of town. It was isolated by the two rivers that engulfed the borders of Twins City and buffered by the nature zone that had been built to keep the undesirables on their side of the little island. It was dangerous there. She felt bad for the children that were growing up on the wrong side of the tracks so to speak because they would never have a chance to make more for themselves besides what they already had.

A knock sounded at her door and Gracie turned her head from the window of her office, taking a step into the well lit interior. Her office was as sparsely decorated as her home was. She didn't like fussy things and she certainly didn't like flaunting her wealth. She had come from wealth, been molded by it, and had fought so hard against it in her adult years. Now that she was at the helm of her own multinational corporation, she did what she could to give back to the city that she loved so dearly. Schools had been opened using her money. New homes had been built in blighted areas. Even in the nature zone, she had worked to create places for those near the mountain to enjoy just as the people in her neighborhood did.

Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she walked past her desk and grabbed her suit coat. The knock had been her reminder that there was business to attend to and sure enough on the other side was her assistant. Andrew was a handsome man, her confidant and the one that kept her running on time as her schedule grew more and more hectic.

"No chance for lunch before we go?" She asked him, slipping her arms through the jacket as they walked towards the elevator.

"We can pick up something on the way if you like." Andrew offered, her itinerary on a screen that he had tucked under his arm. "There is always dinner tonight with your family."

"I can't cancel that?" She asked him, brushing back a strand of hair from her face as he hit the button for the lobby.

"Not this time." He answered back with a sympathetic shrug. "I think they would disown you if you did."

"That might not be so bad." She murmured, giving him a slightly sarcastic grin as the elevator lowered towards the ground floor. "Send Melinda out to find me a dress for tonight then. Have it delivered to my house."

Their conversation kept up at a casual pace until the elevator stopped and they stepped out into the bustling lobby. People parted for her as she walked past. She was use to the stares, the constant whispers, the looks from people who were envious or lusted after her. None of it phased her any longer. When she had been a little girl, she was painfully shy and would hide when out in public, but now...well, it took a lot to make her feel like that sad little girl again.

There were photographers waiting outside for her. There were always photographers. Why they were so interested in her and her personal life she had never truly understood. Andrew and she would walk out that door, be bombarded with questions. Who are you sleeping with? Who are you seeing? What are you wearing? It was because of that crush of people that her driver waited for her in the lobby. He was a brawny man, simply known as Smith. From time to time he would act as her bodyguard and push the people out of her way until she was safely where she needed to be.

That day Smith looked at the two of them approaching with a bit of panic on his features. He wasn't one to be worried about much, but he looked positively nervous.

"I'm sorry, Miss Montgomery, but traffic is backed up all the way to the River Bridge. I don't think we're going to make it to your meeting on time." He said in his deep voice and she frowned slightly.

"This late in the day? What's going on?" She asked him, glancing towards the large clear screen that was ticking off the news report from the lobby.

It was then that she saw it. An explosion downtown had leveled a building. Reports of several other explosions around the city. Police had blocked off nearly all of the northern half to the river as they struggled to figure out just what had happened. If she had a guess, Gracie knew exactly what had happened. It was just another day in Twins City.
 
Swampfire

There were cries for help, screams of pain, laments for lost ones. Fires were burning bright and hot, sending dark clouds into the air. Emergency beacons flashed in a crazy whirlwind of light, radio chatter, the sqwuaking of hand-held units not plugged into hands-free kits, shouting, exclamations of fear, anger and surprise.

"Look!"

"Watch out!"

A wall had crumbled outwards toward the street, like something had shoved it from the inside.

Something...or...someone!

Through the haze of escaping smoke came three figures, the central figure acting as support for the flanking figures. As they drew free of the smoke, onlookers gave a startled gasp or cry, the central figure was a masked man. Dressed in brown coveralls with a green leaf motive on it and a dark green half-mask covering his face, everybody knew that he wasn't dressed up for Halloween.

"Swampfire!"

Some interpreted the cry as the threat of another fire, emerfency personnel rushed closer. The man allowed his charges to be taken from him, "There's more people in there!" Before anybody could think to stop him, he turned and plunged back into the building, smoke billowing out in his wake.

Swampfire. That was what people called him, that was the name he carried when he was in this costume. Swampfire. He wasn't much, but right then, he was the only chance these people had and he felt the weight of that responsibility settle upon his shoulders. If he failed them he'd get crucified, if he succeeded, he'd be a hero...

For two years now he's been actively fighting crime in his neighborhood. That neighborhood was far from here, he knew how to fight, he could communicate with some animals and he could blast fire from his hands...none of that would help him now. The weight on his shoulders became almost unbearable, but he kept digging, following the sound of the plaintive waill of a child.
 
Shadow

She certainly ready for something like this. The heat from the fire was about ready to boil her from the inside out. Her suit was ill equipped to deal with this kind of environment. Leaping from one pile of ruble to the next, she struggled to listen for the calls of those in need. Who knew how many were already dead or were about to die. It was a busy complex, one that she had Swampfire had been fortunate enough to be close to.

She had been working with him for a few months now, struggling to learn the ropes of a game that seemed a little too vicious for her liking. She was a pacifist by nature, but growing up in the old city had made her see that there were two kinds of people in the world: those that stood by and let bad things happen and those that stood for what they believed in.

Her booted feet landed on a soft pile of ash, a soft cry leaving her lips as she hit the wall next to her hard. Her elbow screamed in agony as she glanced around the blazing inferno. There would be police and firefighters soon. They didn't have much time.

'There's more over here.' She called out through her link to her partner, seeing a hand frantically reaching through the rubble, grasping for anything and everything to hold onto. 'I can't pull them out on my own. It's getting too hot.'

She had always been an empath, able to communicate with others without speaking. It was her greatest gift and curse. She had very little control over it and sometimes she would wildly project to everyone around her even the most intimate of thoughts. It grew worse in panicked times...and this was certainly one of them.

'Swampfire, we have to go. NOW.'
 
Gracie

The city was flying by in a blur around her as Smith navigated her sleek black sedan through the streets. He was breaking laws, getting her to the scene of the explosion as fast as he possibly could. Once upon a time, she would have done it herself, getting there by hook and crook. Now, she had to remember that she was a law abiding citizen and this was purely a matter of business.

Andrew gripped his seat tightly in his hands, flinching each time the car weaved to and fro in the middle of traffic. He was green, his dark eyes wide as he struggled to stare at the floor between his shoes. For her part, Gracie sat there calmly, her legs crossed and her face a mask of stone. Things like this didn't phase her in the least.

She could see the haze of smoke billowing across the apartments that surrounded the blast zone. People were running in every direction, some panicked and some confused as to what had happened. She knew what had happened, but the question now was why it had happened. There were many people out there that could have done this and only one that did.

Smith drew smoothly through a police barracade, slamming on the breaks as he went as far as he could. She didn't even wait for him to unbuckle. She was up and out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Her dark eyes were drawn to the sight of the leaning building, billowing smoke stinging the air with its acrid scent.

"You can't park here! This is a crime scene!" A cop in blue yelled across the pavement, running towards them in an effort to get them to move.

"I'm not going anywhere." Gracie said as she moved past him with a cool glance. "This is my building..."
 
Swampfire

He burst into Shadow's view through a cloud of smoke, he was coughing now, the smoke getting to him, "Here. Go." He shoved two small bundles into her arms, they squirmed and the small snivel of a girl could be heard from one of the bundles. "GO!" He turned to where the hand thrust out of the rubble, sinking to his knees, he started digging once more. Time...there wasn't any of it left! But he refused to let these people just die, not if he was this close. Coughing, he exposed the arm, the shoulder, the head. Reaching in he could get a grip and with a mighty heave, he drew the man from the rubble.

"Go!" He pointed into the direction of the exit he had created, he started digging again. Above his burning beams started to creak alarmingly, some cracked with loud bangs. He dug with all the power and might that he could muster. He was going to be too late, he was going to let the people down. The muffled cries fueled him on and he kept digging with the single-minded determination that would bring a bone-hunting dog to shame. There! He could see skin. Another crack above him, followed by another, why didn't he have shape shifting powers? He sure could use them now!

Another loud crack and a piece of beam collapses to the ground behind him. Don't stop! Dig damnit DIG! A groan, a crack louder than a gunshot and the second floor collapses, bringing with it an inferno. Smoke gush up into the air, flames licking brightly into the night sky.

Swampfire had not come out, the man he'd pulled out did, but there was no Swampfire. A murmur started to spread through the crowd.

Ragged coughing suddenly rise from the opening in the wall and through the smoke staggered four figures. One of them a badly battered and burned Swampfire, he manages to hold the woman he's supporting on her feet until two cops take her from him, then he falls to his knees, coughing to clear his lungs, breathing ragged, mask half-torn, clothing burned and ripped, bruised or bloody skin showing through the tears in the clothing. Hands bloody from digging frantically through the rubble, he knew that he had done all that he could, but felt that it was not enough.

"Shadow...I..."

And he pitched forward, passed out.
 
On the way...

Twins City
500 Miles

The sign flashed by in the bright moonlight. Only 500 Miles still to go.
 
Shadow

Shadow took the bundles as Swampfire gave them to her, the little girl whimpering before coughing against the smoke. She stared at her partner as he told her to go.

"That's not part of the deal. You have to come with me." She insisted, hefting the weight of the two bundled children up against her slight frame. "Swampfire..."

She shrank back slightly as he yelled at her to go again. They had agreed to never leave the other in danger. It seemed that agreement had just been voided. Without a word, she turned and struggled from the building, panting as she finally burst onto the street. The nearest cop took the children from her arms and she turned to race back into the building when the upper levels started to cave.

'Swampfire!' She screamed in her mind. 'You have to get out!'

She could feel panic racing down her spine, sweat pouring from her brow. She was waiting...waiting...

When he burst free, weakened but alive, she blew out a sigh of relief. Hurrying to his side, she kneeled as he struggled to speak before he passed out completely. Well, she had certainly never dealt with this before. She could barely make him budge as she hooked an arm around his dead weight and pulled upwards. Her eyes glanced around the crowd frantically, wondering what would happen if he were exposed.
 
Gracie

Gracie paused in her march towards the building as she caught sight of the two vigilantes. The woman with the ill fitting suit and long red hair looked frantic and near tears as she struggled to pull the half masked man to his feet. He was hurt, exhausted, and Gracie knew from experience that he would not be back on his feet any time soon. It was an incredibly Dangerous situation for the two of them. The public night have loved and adored them...but the police were a different matter all together. While they were saving the day, everything was fine. The moment they stopped playing hero the full power of the law would be upon them.

"Mr. Smith. Pick those two up, please." Gracie said over her shoulder as she sought out the lead investigator in charge. "Take them for medical care and then sent another car for pick up."

Smith nodded and did as he was told, despite the police trying to stop him. Ther was little they could do. She was a member of the family that owned half the city. The police were securely in their pocket and there were a few times that Gracie used that to her advantage.

Once Smith had loaded the two hapless heroes into the sedan and driven away, Gracie turned back to the task at hand: namely finding out what had happened to her building and if there were any casualties.
 
Swampfire

Swampfire

...

Swampfire...o...ke...p

...

Alex!



Alex, you have to wake up!

His eyes flew open and he sat up, gasping for breath, coughing heavily, in the action of sitting up he managed to dislodge the nasal feed of oxygen. He pulled the pipes from his face and coughed, gasping in between coughs, feeling like his lungs just couldn't manage to get enough oxygen into his body. He drew huge, ragged breaths, forcing himself to calm, still coughing, but not feeling smothered anymore.

Then he realized that he was not in his costume, he was not wearing his mask and he was in a hospital room. He looked around frantically, he needed to get out of here before somebody recognized him. He tried to get up out of the bed, but his body just refused to budge, a sharp pang of pain shot through his arms as he pressed down with his hands to leverage himself. They were bound up, his hands, his arms, he almost felt like a friggen mummy, but he wasn't quite there.

"What the hell?"

The voice didn't sound like his own, all croaky and dry
 
Shadow

Max heard the commotion from the other room and came rushing in, watching as Alex struggled against the wires and tubes. Her hair was still damp from a shower, the tail hanging limp against her shoulders. She was on borrowed clothing, a pair of dark jeans that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe combined and a white T-shirt.

"Calm down." She said, hurrying to his side and pressing agains his shoulders until he was lying back against the pristine white sheets.

"Wait until you see this place." She said with a quiet excitement in her voice. "We definitely aren't in The Old Coty anymore."
 
Swampfire

He got pressed back gently, his body screamed in agony, the merest touch hurt like hell. He gave in an focused on the person pushing him against the bed, blinked and frowned. She looked like Shadow, but...then she spoke and he sagged into the cushions. It was Shadow, dressed in different clothes and smelling like fresh soap. He managed a cough and blinked, his vision slowly coming in to focus.

"You not wearing your mask...me neither." He tried to swallow, mouth and throat both felt like parchment. A straw appeared and he sucked up some water, sloshing it around in his mouth, swallowing the rest. He blinked, "Where are we?" He looked around, seeing more detail now, "What happened? I remember stumbling towards the hole in the wall and then nothing, I can only remember some feeling of guilt."
 
Shadow

"You went down like a ton of bricks. I tried getting you up but I was afraid the cops would pick us up. Then this guy showed up in a black car and hauled us both in. We ended up here." Max explained, her eyes wide and full of excitement.

"That building...the car...this place...it's all owned by Gracie Montgomery." The name held a lot o weight, especially with people from the old city. "These jeans cost more than my apartment! She's got a telescreen bigger than the screen in Hanger Park!"

Max knew she wa blathering, bu she had never been in a place with such luxury.
 
Swampfire

Alex frowned, "Montgomery? What would she want with us?" He located the glass of water and had a few more sips, "Its not like we saved the building." Of course not having seen the rest of the building he was in, he was rather immune and practically sheltered from the luxury and wealth surrounding him. The water tasted strange, but it soothed his throat and mouth, made him feel much better and did a lot to refresh him. He winced, "Feels like a ton of bricks fell on top of me." He thought for a moment, "You're probably upset with me. I forced you to leave me in a dangerous spot." He coughed suddenly, tasting the bitter, acrid taste of the smoke. "You were suffering, my clothing was better suited and I though I had a bit more time."

He looked away from her, at the blank wall opposite, "If only there was more time. I heard more people, but...I couldn't..." He took a deep breath, "Couldn't help them."
 
Shadow

"I don't know what she wants. The big guy that picked a up is standing guard and won't let us leave. He said that she wants to talk to us but she won't be back until this evening." She commented, watching as pain spread across his features.

"You promised me that you would never leave me behind. There was no way we were going to help everyone." Max insisted, feeling like such a little girl over the fact that he ha broken a simple promise to her. "We stick together...no matter what."
 
Swampfire

"I didn't leave you behind." He turned his head back to face her, "We were jus ill-equiped and unprepared for the inside of the building. I've never dropped you in the past and you know that you could not have made it out with the two children if you stayed to help." His eyes played over her face, "You did manage to get a nice tan though. I'm sure that I don't want to see myself, I feel fricken awful."

A thought struck him, "I hope Montgomery isn't keeping us under house-arrest because she think that we exploded that building to play hero." He needed more water, but with the bandaged hands he couldn't pour himself more. "Could you pour me more water please?" He motioned with his chin to his bandaged hands and arms, "How bad is it? Will I still win beauty pageants?"
 
Shadow

"You'll just ave some scars to impress the ladies with." She said with a slight smile as she moved to the bedside table and poured him another glass of cool water. "Maybe you can finally catch Irene Norwood's interest. Just tell her you got in a fight and won."

Max had always had a little crush on Alex. She had never been brave enough to admit it to him, however. He was like her brother and he treated her like that too. They were partners and she had to be happy with that.

"But I think you should get some rest. I'll sit here beside you and protect you." She said with a slight smile.
 
Swampfire

He scoffed, "Irene will only notice me when I grow a third eye or arm and even then it will be because I look freakish." He sipped on the cool water, he could feel his parched throat and mouth slowly starting to recuperate from the hell he had put them through. "And with what did I tangle and won? The steering wheel of a Mack?" He gave her a soft smile and placed the, now empty, glass on the bedstand and leaned back.

"Feel like I could sleep for a week, also feel still hyped up on adrenaline." He reached for her hand, as she took it, he gave it a squeeze, "Thank you for being there." His eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, perhaps there was a drug in the water? Or perhaps he was just tired? He wasn't really sure which was the right answer as Shadow started to swim out of focus and darkness slipped over his mind once more.
 
Gracie

The walk back to her home was a long one that warm evening. Smith had insisted that he would send a car to pick her up, but she had declined. A walk would do her good and clear her head of all the horrible things that she wanted to forget. The sight of a woman walking through the streets in an evening dress was odd in Twins City, but Gracie embraced the odd and unusual.

A meal with her aunts, uncles, and mother was something that was never to be anticipated or celebrated. It was a constant game of cat and mouse, one that kept her on her toes. She was the outcast among them, the one that wouldn't accept the Orion name as illustrious as it was. Even her mother had brought up the fact at dinner that evening.

She was the only member of her generation from a family of seven. Kate Orion-Montgomery had bested her siblings by having a marriage and a child. However, she would never win the title of mother of the year. Gracie had been raised by another member, a man that was as cruel as he was wealthy. Edward Orion, the patriarch of the clan, ruled everything with an iron fist. He arranged their marriages, approved of their dealings, and extended his hand to those that he deemed worthy. For his two brothers and four sisters, that meant that they were at his beck and call when it came to the family fortune. Fortunately for Gracie, she had long ago learned about hard work and had made her own way in life.

Gracie fought to shake those thoughts from her head as she found herself at her doorstep, the doorman letting her in with a slight bow. It was an old stone building, one that was well over 150 years old. She had fallen in love with it's four stories, charm, wood floors, and wide windows. It had taken her two years, but she had restored it to its former glory with all the modern amenities that she could want. Still, it couldn't fill the aching void in her heart and soul left behind by a past full of regrets.

The two that she had rescued from the apartment building that afternoon had a lot to answer for. They were incredibly foolish, she thought to herself as she passed by the door where Smith was dutifully standing guard. It led to the west wing, the place where her private hospital was housed and where the two would call home for the time being. She needed time to think about what she would ask them, about what she would tell them, about what she might do to them.

Entering into her wooden paneled office, she kicked off her black heels and let out a sigh of relief. She had no idea where her assistant, Melinda, found the clothing that she did, but she never skimped on what was trendy and what was painful to wear. The dress had been beautiful, well over $1000, and too tight for comfort. The shoes were new, leaving blisters on her feet as she sank into the plush leather chair behind her desk.

She was weary and needed sleep, but it would allude her as it did almost every single night. She found solace in her office, staring at the picture on her desk. It was the only family memento that she had kept in her entire house. Her father, a man that she could barely remember, was smiling fondly down at the infant in his arms. She wished every day that she could remember the time that she was a baby and she would have cherished those moments like no other. Wishing and hoping never did anyone any good, however.

With a long sigh, Gracie picked up the photo and held it against her chest, turning her chair to stare out over the darkened city that she knew like the back of her hand. It had been a long day indeed.
 
Swampfire

The sleep was dreamless, it wasn't like those times you slept, knew that you had dreamt, but couldn't remember anything, there was just no sleep. An itching brought him around though, his hands! They itched like crazy. He tried to get the bandages off, couldn't, and instead rubbed them together. That helped in a way, the oxygen tubes was back in position and he saw Shadow next to the bed. He kept rubbing his hands as he watched her, he knew that he treated her like his little sister and for most of the time she even looked like his little sister. All frail and small, but there was an inner strength to her which she had not tapped yet.

He smelled the sick stench of Methane and realized that the itching was his hands secreting Methane and it was getting into the wounds. Now if his fire power also decided to trigger...ignoring the smell, he started to gnaw at the bandages, hoping to get them off before setting fire to everything or even exploding a part of the building.
 
Shadow

She had been asleep for a few hours when she heard movement from the bed next to her. Rubbing a slender hand against her eyes, she stretched and glanced towards Alex. The smell is what hit her first, the sickening smell of chemicals that seemed to be coming from him.

"What in the world?" She asked him as he frantically tore at his bandages with his teeth. "What's going on?"

She was up and out of her seat in an instant, hurrying to the window just next to them and throwing it open. A warm summer breeze took the worst of the smell away as she turned back towards him. Alex was always a mystery to her. He seemed so in control of himself sometimes, but others he had a look of panic in his eyes. This was one of the latter.

"Calm down." She murmured as she came to sit at his bedside, helping to unwrap the tight bandages from around his hands and arms. "You won't help anything getting so worked up."
 
He didn't mean to wake her, he was just trying not to burn himself. As she slowly unwound the bandages, his heart rate slowed, her voice soothed him as it always did, he was never sure how she managed it, but she did. The bandages wasn't soaked, more saturated, extremely volatile. "Don't get them anywhere near a flame."

Only then did he realize that his hands were bandaged for a reason, the cuts and bruises showed up in stark contrast to his skin. Swollen and close to useless, he could only stare, he could feel the chemicals which formed the methane gass seeping from the cuts, he saw a few stitches on his hands as well. He finally looked up at Max, "I am not sure what's going on. Usually I can control this and when I woke up and found that I wasn't in control, I worried about the Fire, those bandages and the Fire could have burned my hands away in moments. So I had to get them off."

He looked down at his hands again and it seemed to him that the "attack" was over, no fresh gas seeped from his wounds. He reclined against the pillows and heaved a sigh. "We should be home." He grimaced, even though this bed is much better than my sofa."
 
Shadow

Max disposed of the bandages in a biohazard bag that was beside his bed, closing the lid until the methane soaked rags were disposed of properly. Turning back to Alex, she saw that he was a little bit calmer, his aches and pains showing clearly on his features as he mumbled something about going back home.

"We can't go home. That guy is still at the door and we're four stories up." She said as she sat back by his bedside. "He just keeps saying that Miss Montgomery needs to talk to us before we can go anywhere. He did promise breakfast though, which is probably going to be better than instant eggs and fake coffee."

Real food was expensive in the old town. Only on special occasions had Alex actually tasted something that wasn't artificial or made in a laboratory. Not even the best chefs could make the dreg that they ate even remotely appetizing.

"So, I guess we just sit back, relax, and enjoy all this luxury." Max said with a shrug of her slender shoulders, her hand resting on his forearm gently. "Unless you have a hot date that you have to get back to."
 
Swampfire

With the immediate threat gone, he could relax, that meant that he could enjoy Max's humor. Of course you didn't expect humor from her, but sitting there in a white t-shirt and dark jeans, her hair loose and looking all relaxed, he could see that part of her that few people saw.

"The problem with the lap of luxury is that it is expensive. This Montgomery woman's interest in us must mean that she either want something from us or do something to us." He shook his head and gave a wry smile, "I'm paranoid. I know."

He gave a few coughs, at least that didn't taste like ash and charcoal anymore. "Only hot date I had planned was cut short by an even hotter date." He grinned and stuck out the tip of his tongue at her. His hands throbbed, it felt like it would take a long time before he could use them again, "But if this luxury provides real bacon, eggs and toast, then I will be willing to listen to anything."
 
Shadow

Almost as if on cue, the door to the room opened and Smith entered with a rolling cart. On the cart was a spread of bacon, eggs, coffee, toast, and all the jams and jellies that they could possibly eat. Max felt her mouth water at the smells of it all as the cart was pushed to the side of Alex's bed and Smith exited the room.

"Wow." Was all that Max could say as she looked at the food, her stomach growling in intense hunger. "She can want us for whatever and I wouldn't complain."

She looked at him and grinned. It must have been nice to have money. It must have been really nice to never have to worry where the next meal came from.
 
Swampfire

He inspected Smith as the man pushed the trolley, the man had training. The way he wore his clothing, the way he moved, all of it pointed Alex into the direction that even if they had tried to force their way out of here, Smith would have been able to stop them. Curious.

He looked at the trolley and just like Max, his own mouth filled up with saliva. He met her grin with one of his own, "There is toast, real toast, I will bet it's even brown bread and real butter. I'm definitely with you on that one."

The problem arose as soon as he wished to pick up anything. He could not use his hands. Sure they moved, but with the cuts all over the palms and fingers, he couldn't move them enough to hold anything. With a small huff of frustration, he leaned back into the pillows, staring at his hands. "Well seems like I am Tantalus."
 
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