"Of course!", enraged, you kicked the door with such force that the old hinges screamed in return.

But the door did not break.

It was stupid of you to assume that Dexter would leave you unintended, only one person to watch over you. Naturally, he would make it harder to escape.

A locked door was the bare minimum.

Outside, the fight had stopped. No more gunshots. No voices or anything that indicated that someone roamed the outside.

Only nomads could be found beneath the sand and stone of the badlands. As a child, you had heard stories about them, mercenaries who offered their services in exchange for something useful.

But it was unlikely that they'd show up here. There wasn't a single good piece of metal that could be found within the mountains of junk of this junkyard. Especially not a useful car part.

Suddenly, steps reached your ears.

Startled, you jumped back from the door to place yourself in front of your defenceless sister. She was still asleep, struggling with the lack of toxins that ran through her blood.

Not long and she'd start to return to her old self, struggling and trying to get her hands onto anything that would do the trick.

You dreaded this moment. Because you knew how it was to see her on the ground, in her own filth, more dead than alive because someone had sold her trash instead of drugs.

Not that there was a difference, really.

The steps came closer.

Tension rose in your body. Your optics sharpened and the scanner appeared. Kiroshi tech wasn't good enough to look through walls. Not yet, at least.

But it was connected to your hearing nerve and turned those sounds into data.

Whoever approached was heavy, tall. A man.

He was a few steps away from the door, but headed for it with dedication. You'd be his next target.

Ready to fight till death, you had your eyes fixed on the door. All the hairs in the back of your neck stood up straight. You blood boils with rage.

Yet there was this tiny voice in the back of your mind. It whispered sour words into your ear, made you falter in your decision.

What chance would you have against a gun?

Or worse, mantis blades?

Only remembering about how that cold metal felt inside your flesh was enough to make your insides twist and turn.

You wondered if Viktor had also replaced your insides. Surely, some if not most of your organs had been damaged by the attack.

The handle of the door moved. Somebody cursed.

Then silence fell once more.

A deep breath escaped your lips. Internally, you still struggled with how wise your decision was. But there was no other option.

You wouldn't give up. Not without a fight.

All of a sudden, a gigantic shock made the door tremble. Metal and wood splintered. The hinges bend and screamed.

A hint of sand and dryness made its way into the room.

Cracks ran through the surface. Dust seeped through and made the air thick.

Your hands clenched into fists.

One more hit made the door shatter. A fist chased through metal. The hinges snapped and all at once the door crashed to the floor.

A cloud of dust obscured your vision.

Startled, you took a step back, hands raised. But in that moment you realised that it was either now or never.

With a scream on your lips you rushed forward, right into the dusty cloud. Only a shadow could be made out, your optics ran wild, trying to analyse who or what was in front of you.

Your fists met a face before your eyes could tell who it had hit.

It was a strange feeling to feel your fists in action. With Viktor you had held back but now you could feel just how much more strength there was in your body.

With a groan, the person stumbled back, fell over their feet and crashed to the floor. Blood squeezed out from between their fingers as they pressed a hand to their face.

You could feel how blood stuck to your knuckles, warm and sticky.

It was a good feeling. Powerful.

A rush of adrenaline chased through your veins. Your hands clenched into fists once more and your legs moved to get ready for another blow.

"Maldita mierda!", a voice suddenly cursed.

Struggling, you stopped yourself mid attempt to smash the man's head in. As you did so, you stumbled over your own two feet and crashed to the ground next to him.

"Jackie?!", you gasped and tried to hold his face to keep the blood from pouring.

Obviously in pain, Jackie bend as you grabbed his face. Blood covered his lips but he was a big guy and took the blow like a champ.

Tears made his eyes glassy. But as your face appeared before his he just swallowed the pain and put on a broad smile.

"Ey, (Y/N)!", he laughed. "Struck me by surprise, you devil! Won't happen again."

Relief spread through your chest. In that moment you couldn't help but huff. A chuckle made its way to your lips as, suddenly, a shadow fell over you.

Startled, your muscles clenched.

"V!", you gasped as you jumped to your feet.

With a nod, Vincent greeted you.

"Vik said you got in trouble.", he looked around. "Damn, I remember junkyards like this from my childhood. Man, I do kinda miss the nomad ways... Well, got a baby on the way. Valerie would kill me if I hit the streets now."

"Yes she would.", Viktor pushed his way between V and you to grab your shoulders. "(Y/N). How are you?"

His hands roamed your face. Thumbs gently caressed your cheeks.

It was such a pleasantly warm feeling that it made you whimper with desperation.

"Vik...", your voice almost trembled as much as your eyes as you tried to keep the tears of frustration away. "I... I'm so sorry."

Without thinking you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a tight hug. Your cheek pressed against his chest. The beating of his heart was so soothing.

Surprised, he let it happen. His hand rose to caress your hair.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart...", he whispered gently. "I'm here now. You can let yourself go."