Chapter Text
Dale’s shower had been an adventure in water pressure. As the shower sprayed, his perky nipples seemed insistent on either screaming in pain or pleasure every time they were hit. Shielding them worked, but it made for a few awkward moments. He tried to make it quick and get to bed.
It had been a weird night followed by another weird night. He didn’t know what to think of it. Blake was obviously going through something, all of them were a little off, and Wynn… the way Wynn had been sucking on that lollipop and moaning and writhing…
Dale shook it off. Those were not feelings he was allowed to have, for men, for his frat brothers especially. But god damn it was hard to stop thinking about. Was it something with the drugs, something with Wynn, or-
Dale refocused. He had laid down in bed, throwing a ball up in the air, trying and failing to just fall asleep. Tears started leaking from the corner of his eyes as he caught it, over and over, closing his eyes.
He didn’t miss the games, the pressure, the constant training, but he did miss feeling like he was good at something. Strength and athleticism were all he had, and it was gone. Well, it was… less.
Sleepy. The ball went up, and down, up and down, up and… down.
Sleep claimed him the ball racing towards his face right before it all went dark.
Dale awoke to a slight discomfort, rubbing his chest and immediately regretting it. The nipple seemed to have a small lump beneath it and it was more tender than was easily comfortable. A tug of his shirt made it obvious things were altered. A look in the mirror revealed just a hint of softening around the edges. Had his hair grown? He kept it buzzed as best he could, but now it looked to be about month out from where it should, not yet long, but not the short he usually kept it. A swipe of his usual morning fuzz upon his chin seemed to confirm it had gone smooth, baby faced.
It wasn’t time to panic yet. Check on the others first.
Stepping into the hallway, it was dark, still dark. The outside world was still night through the window, and it seemed suddenly quite obvious that they had slept another day away.
Doors were closed, no sounds from elsewhere in the house. He might have been the first to wake.
Dale approached Blake’s door and gave it a firm few knocks.
“Blake. You up?” Dale asked. No response. He knocked harder.
“Blake?” Dale asked again. Nothing. He attempted to turn the handle, but it was locked. Panic started to set in, and Dale started pulling.
“BLAKE?” Dale said even louder, something was wrong, something was wrong! Attempts to open the door became more furious, pulling jiggling, ramming into it, but it wouldn’t budge. There was nothing he could do to open it physically, when he remembered-
“Hab, could you please open Blake’s door?” Dale asked. Click. The door was open.
Dale felt a chill as cool night air blew through the open window into the darkened space. Moonlight crept across the room, hints of what was there. Pale marble like flesh, flashing red sequins, crimson nails like claws, wavy red hair framing a soft face, familiar face, a face highlighted with makeup- Blake’s face. Their red eyes glowed, staring at nothing.
“Holy shit. Blake. What… what are you wearing?” Dale asked.
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Not sure. It’s soft. Dale? Why are you in my room?” Blake(?) asked, her tone so much higher and softer, he forgot a moment that this was his friend, his male friend.
“You weren’t answering. Is that a wig?” Dale asked. Blake tilted his head, smoothing back the wavy hair, tugging experimentally.
“No. It seems to be my hair. I feel good. I feel cozy. Did something happen?” Blake asked innocently and Dale took a deep breath. They, he, she, they, BLAKE was out of it. Dale considered what to do next.
“Stay put, I’m going to check on everyone else.” Dale said as he backed out of the room.
“Okay.” Blake said passively, still staring at the wall.
Dale’s hand moved faster as he began knocking on Zach’s door like a machine gun.
“Zach. Zach! Wake up man.” Dale said.
“WHAT!?!” an aggravated Zach shot back.
“It’s night again. We slept all day. And… Blake is… fuck, it’s easier to show you. Get up.” Dale said, resting against the door frame, fist against his forehead. He could hear Zach grumbling, getting dressed.
The door opened and a groggy Zach glared, eyes half lidded, expression slack, ready to lay back down.
“I was having a great dream, by the way. Fuck. Fuck! I can’t believe this happened a second day in a row.” Zach grumbled as he looked outside into the darkness of night. Dale strode towards Blake’s room.
“So… be prepared for a little shock.” Dale said as he stepped in, Blake still sitting exactly where he had left them.
“Who is this? Hey bay-whoah it’s Blake!” Zach said, startling himself.
“Hi Zach. I’m not sure what happened. I went to sleep, woke up this way.” Blake said with a shrug, wiggling their shoulders, swaying in place, dancing from a sitting position. Their gaze was distant, their demeanor meek, but from the smile on their face, they could swear that Blake was… happy? How were they so non-chalant about this!
Zach started snapping his fingers in Blake’s face.
“Up. Up! Up! Awaken!” Zach said and Blake just blinked.
“Hoped that might work.” Zach muttered.
“What the fuck are you doing man?” Dale asked and Zach bit his lower lip in a nervous, angry way.
“Hypnosis. A lot of times hypnosis responds to certain trigger words or conditions. I think Blake has been… hypnotized.” Zach said. Blake tilted their head.
“Do you think so? Should I get unhypnotized?” Blake asked.
Dale and Zach looked to each other and back to Blake. This was not the Blake of yesterday.
“Blake, we’re gonna… can you give us a minute?” Zach asked, and Blake continued to smile as they nodded.
Zach and Dale went into the hallway, lowering their voices.
“Holy shit what happened to him?” Zach asked.
“I don’t know, okay? Like this when I found him.” Dale said, taking a moment to breath. Each looked around, just a little more nervous than before.
“Usually we’d ask Blake for answers. He’s president.” Zach said.
“And you’re Social Chair, and Wynn’s Treasurer, and Charlie is Secretary, so one of you needs to step up! What’s the order of succession? Whose President now, cause it’s not Blake until he gets his head on straight.” Dale asked.
“Fuck. Um. Lonny went home when the Affini took over, so uh, I think… I think that makes it Charlie.” Zach said. Dale let out an exasperated hiss.
“It can’t be Charlie, Charlie is first year, he has no clue how to lead yet.” Dale said.
“What, you want me to do it? Man, I’m great for a lot of things, I can throw a party, but like, lead lead? I dunno. Fuck.” Zach groaned, running a hand through his hair nervously, a little shaggier than yesterday.
“Does that leave…?” Dale asked, but was shot down fast.
“Wynn is not an option and you know it.” Zach said.
Silence. No one else had woken up yet.
“We’re jumping the gun anyhow. Let’s just… group think, consensus, get through this. It’s just one day-” Zach started.
“In a fucked situation-” Dale countered.
“It’s just one day so far. We don’t know… anything. We don’t know what’s going on. Probably…” Zach started, but didn’t even need to finish, Dale nodding as they looked around the hab, practically telepathically sharing the same thought.
“Yeah. Something to do with an affini.” Dale said, not wanting to delve too far.
“Right. So… should we head back to the vet? Obviously, some things have progressed. My chest is… not normal.” Zach said, not wanting to put voice to the unquiet thought.
“Same. Fuck. Yeah, that seems like an idea. Let’s get everyone up, we try to head out soon. Hopefully, it’s just um… let’s hope Blake is the only one waking up like that.” Dale said as they split up, Zach knocking on Wynn’s door, Dale on Charlie’s.
“Wynn, you in there?” Zach asked after a knock. Knock knock knock. He could hear voices from the other side, faintly.
“...you’re not real…”
“...I am. I’ve always been. You just don’t...”
“Wynn!” Zach yelled, a little impatient. “You have someone in there?”
There was a hiss and mumble of quiet voices.
“I… I’m just talking to myself man. Open the door.” Wynn said, far less muffled. The door came open. Wynn was, predictably shirtless, and the small bumps on their chest mirroring Zach’s own.
“Blake is… Blake looks like he’s changed a lot during the night. We’re gonna go back to the vet. You feeling okay?” Zach asked. Wynn shrugged.
“I dunno. I think this whole… thing has me stirred up kinda. Lot of thoughts man. Just… lot going on up here.” Wynn mumbled as a finger lazily waggled a circle at his head.
“Hokay. Just, get on some pants and a shirt.” Zach mumbled, still sleepy, turning back to Dale, Charlie already at his side, a slight flush on his cheeks.
“Guess everyone’s still got the G in em. Charlie, help Zach drag Wynn down if he’s too high to walk, I’m gonna grab Blake. Oh, also, don’t pick on him. He’s hypnotized or something, I don’t think he knows what’s going on.” Dale said, crossing back to find Blake, once again, sitting in the exact same position they had left him.
“Blake, can you walk? We’re going back to the vet.” Dale said. Blake nodded, standing slowly, walking lightly, barely aware. They seemed so fragile like this, a far cry from the bold president that had climbed the ranks for five years. He moved so slow, looking as if he might collapse at any time, a puppet on a string. Were their eyes watering?
“I don’t feel like myself.” Blake finally said, looking scared.
“It’s okay, we’re all here, we’re gonna get you fixed up, okay? Everything is good.” Dale told him as they slowly made their way down the steps, Dale taking his hand to make sure he stood up.
Charlie’s eyes were too too wide, Wynn shaking their head, then waving a hand in front of his face, ensuring he wasn’t hallucinating. This was Blake? But… it was not the Blake they expected.
Zach was on his tablet, frowning.
“Got us a taxi to come for us… says it will be fifty minutes though. That’s weird. Never had it be so late since the affini got here. Maybe there is an event going down?” Zach pondered, scrolling more.
“Can we go outside? It looks really comfy out there, and the light is hurting my eyes.” Blake asked, staring out the window.
Wynn pulled a pair of psychedelic neon sunglasses out of his pocket, opening them up and popping them onto Blake’s face, and he smiled. Now there was just the matter of him still wearing… that.
“Should we get you other clothes?” Dale asked. Blake looked confused.
“Why?” Blake asked.
“You look… you… it’s fine. It’s fine.” Zach said.
“You look hot.” Wynn said with a wide smile, and Blake’s cheeks turned pink, shaking his head.
“Really?” Blake asked with so much squeak to their voice, they all knew he was excited… and it was getting harder and harder to think of them as he.
Zach face palmed, drawing the hand down.
“The fuck Wynn?” Zach asked, and Wynn shrugged.
“She does, she looks hot.” Wynn said, eyes unfocused.
“He. He looks…” Zach said, but paused as Blake began crying quietly, tears flowing down their face.
“I… I like how she sounds.” Blake mumbled. “Am I happy or sad?”
Dale furrowed his brow.
“You are happy right now.” Dale said, and Blake stopped crying, smiling almost instantly.
“What the fuck-” Zach said.
“You’re sad now.” Dale said and Blake began crying again.
“Whoah. That’s crazy.” Wynn said and Blake began blinking rapidly.
“Blake, you are just fine and feel great. Wynn! Watch. Your. Words.” Zach said slowly. Wynn raised their hands in surrender.
“Dale, how did you figure that out?” Charlie asked. Dale shrugged.
“I told her, um… I noticed Blake kind of did everything I asked, even though normally they don’t really do that. Usually they are telling everyone else what needs to be done.” Dale said.
“Maybe we can use this. Blake, can you tell us how you got in that dress?” Zach asked. Blake blinked.
“I woke up in this.” Blake said.
“Okay, what is the last thing you remember last night?” Zach followed, and her face scrunched up.
“I… was getting ready for bed. I found a drink. It was good. So good… thick, sweet, iron… the night smiled at me.” Blake said dreamily, happily, squirming just a little at the memory.
Eyes widened. Charlie looked outside, into the dark. No monsters, no smiles, just the front lawn in the moonlight.
“Let’s… keep away from the windows while we wait. I’m adding a request to knock on our door when they get here.” Zach said.
They sat in the living room on the couch.
“We need breakfast. And… exercise after, when we get home.” Dale said, asking himself what would Blake do? And Blake would keep them on schedule.
“Right. Hab, could you compile us breakfast, randomized from the list?” Charlie asked, and the compiler in the kitchen whirred to life. “I can go get it.”
Dale smiled. Charlie was good like that, volunteering before being voluntold, and his upbeat disposition was helping keep the darker thoughts at bay.
Charlie came back with a tray, a small note on it reading Dale. It was steak, eggs, and… tea? He handed it off and rushed back to get the next one.
“Hab, could I get some orange juice?” Dale asked, not having ever asked for tea before. Was it on the list?
The next tray was for Wynn, a bagel, orange juice, fresh fruit in a bowl, and he happily took it off Charlie’s hands and began digging in.
Next was Zach, a tall coffee and an avacado toast egg sandwich.
Charlie then returned with another orange juice in one hand… and a bottle of red fluid in the other, a note on it reading “Lucy”. Blake stared at the bottle, lips parting, eyes a little wider, locked onto it.
“Whoah whoah, no! What the hell is that Charlie?” Dale said as he got up.
“It was in there-” Charlie said as it was snatched from his hand.
“We don’t know what this is-” Dale started.
“Thirsty.” Blake said, small, soft, pouting. “Please… I… am so thirsty… and hungry…”
“Blake, this can’t be good for you. It… we don’t know what it is. Don’t you see what’s happening to you? What… what else it might do?” Dale said, taking a step back, when Blake began crying.
“I’m so thirsty. Please. Please please please please.” Blake begged, crawling on all fours slowly toward him, like an animal.
“No. Charlie, put this back in the compiler, get her something else.” Dale said. Blake stopped moving the moment he was told no, but the tears didn’t stop, resting on his knees.
Charlie left again, coming back with his own food, splitting a grilled cheese and handing half to Blake, still sulking on the carpet.
“Come on Blake, you need to eat. I’ll share.” Charlie said.
“I can’t eat that. I… I can’t.” she mumbled.
Charlie looked to Dale, then back to Blake.
“We can’t.” Dale said.
“She looks so sad!” Charlie insisted.
“He Charlie, HE looks sad. And he is not in his right mind. No red stuff.” Dale said. Blake’s stomach growled.
“Dale, you mind… helping me in the kitchen a moment?” Charlie asked. Dale huffed and set his food aside as Charlie walked with him out of the room and pointed to the compiler, where the red bottle, the note, stood still.
“It won’t decompile it. I tried.” Charlie said.
“Compile something else for her, hide that.” Dale said.
“What if she can’t eat anything else?” Charlie replied, and Dale… didn’t want to lead. He was a terrible leader, along with being a terrible student, and a terrible athlete. But someone had to.
“Let’s try first. And if she can’t… he can’t, fuck I’m doing it too… then we give it to her. Okay?” Dale said.
It was an awkward fifty minutes, Blake trying and spitting out every food they tried, until finally relenting. Blake took the bottle, reading the name on it, smiling as she did so, popping the cork, and guzzling the deep crimson fluid, licking her lips, looking far more alive and satisfied after having done so.
“Thank you. I really needed that. I feel… a little more me. Wow. Uh… quite the morning huh?” Blake said suddenly, seeming more themselves than they had all morning. “Fuck, I am tarted up huh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re going to the vet again. Trying to get some more answers. They here yet?” Dale asked, and Zach looked at his tablet.
“Uh… it says… thirty five minutes now.” Zach said. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen one of their taxi’s take.”
“We can’t just sit in the living room all day waiting. We should exercise.” Dale said, gesturing with his head to their small gymnasium.
It was just a few machines and some free weights- treadmill, bike, press machine, adjustable bench, & pull up bar. They took turns, working at their own pace, drinking water. It was just… they were all struggling more than normally. What would normally be a half hour session had left them huffing and puffing after just fifteen minutes, guzzling water. All of them except for Blake.
Blake seemed to have an excess of energy if anything. Despite looking pale and a touch more feminine than everyone else, the weights moved easily, she kept on the treadmill at near to top speeds, and her ass looked-
Dale tried to focus on his own failure to exercise properly. He’d been benching two hundred pounds just the other day; now he was struggling with one hundred fifty, Charlie working with Wynn to spot him, and it was six shaky arms that put the weight back after only fifteen reps.
Dale shook and excused himself from the session.
“I need a shower.” he said, getting up slowly, pulling open the door on wobbly legs, up the stairs.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. His nostrils flared, his mind repeating walk it off, walk it off, no matter how it felt in his throat, behind his eyes, he was not crying in front of anyone.
As the door shut to his bathroom, he whipped open the shower curtain and turned it on, hoping to muffle the noise as he began sobbing.
Nothing. He had nothing.
He stared into the mirror. Gone was the athlete of grim determination. Gone was the strong one, the one who could lift and carry burdens for those weaker. The affini had made sure of it, he knew.
Of course the aliens were stronger, but he still wanted to be strong for a human. The first time his dad had ever said he was proud of him was when he’d played his first game of football. They drilled, all the time, his dad said he was talented. Well, at first he did.
He wasn’t smart, he wasn’t the best with words, but he could throw a ball fast, far, and accurately. That arm had been the only thing to give him anything. Pride, popularity, a scholarship. It even made his dad treat him better. At first at least.
That pride his father showed seemed to dwindle more and more as he got older. First it was only praise when he won a game. Then it was only when he had a very good play. And then it was simply criticism all the time. You need to run faster, pay more attention, study the play book, turn your heel better, if you can hang out with friends you can exercise more. Never good enough. He was never good enough.
The scholarship had shown him. He was college level, and after college, he could go pro.
Only he couldn’t. It had been years, no scouts, no calls, no signs of things changing as graduation crawled closer…
Then the affini came. Priorities shifted. Professional didn’t really exist anymore in the same way. No pay, no capitalism. And as florets began to take the field, it instantly became obvious.
He was outdated. Random florets had levels of unnatural athleticism that outshone even some of the greatest athletes, and people quickly realized, florets got what they wanted. They want on a professional team? They get on the professional team. And any and all rules about enhancements and drugs went out the windows. Some got implanted, became florets just to keep playing, and others retired.
Dale had been practicing one day by himself on the field, when some hot little thing in a collar came strolling up, checking him out. He was flattered, tried to show her a thing or two about throwing a ball. Her technique was bad, at first, but with a little effort, she was able to play catch with him, until she accidentally threw the ball clear out of the field. It was 85 yards, easy, and she wasn’t even an athletic floret.
Dale’s dad had stopped talking to him a little before the Affini came. They’d had a big fight. Dale knew he wasn’t going pro. His dad didn’t accept it, ranting about all the money he’d spent training him, the time, how he was ungrateful. Dale had hung up the phone and blocked his number.
The only people who saw him as worth anything were his brothers at Sigma Epsilon Delta. And now… he wasn’t even strong. He wasn’t anything.
His tears mixed in with the shower, standing and letting the water run over him, and he asked himself the question he asked every day: why wasn’t he good enough? Hadn’t he done everything right?
The water running down his body felt good, warm, taking it all away.
Bang bang bang! His door thundered.
“The taxi is here!” Zach yelled, muffled.
“Leave without me, I’m fine!” he heard himself yell… only it wasn’t himself. It was coming from somewhere else.
“Are you sure man?” Zach asked.
“I’m sure. I’ll see you later!” Dale’s voice replied, and he tried to scream, to speak, but he couldn’t move. His body wasn’t moving. A small panic rose up in him, then faded as he felt something tracing over his body, something… slipping out of his shoulder.
“It is hurting.” a voice said, feeling it rattle in his lungs, vibrating down into his groin, a presence behind him, as black vines slid around his arms, lifting up his hands, delicately stroking his fingers, his wrist, his body like a doll in it’s vines. He could not scream, could not feel panic, could only watch in terror and wonder as he was moved about.
“This body… is hurting you… we will remove your pain.” the voice said, delicate traces of a needle point from a white flower left red lines across his wrist, looking like surgical markings.
Dale went limp, staring down into the tub of the shower as he was lifted up, up into the ceiling, into the darkness, as a warm and pleasant still tingle crept over his being, enraptured as the dark erupted into a bright, glowing, purple soft dotted mass that obliterated all his wants, fears, and thoughts in an instant, replaced with a slow thrumming that promised sweetnesses he’d barely dared dream.