↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened.
Cecil had been at the Company Picnic for a week, but already he felt like he had been there for months. He lay curled on one of the “break” cots that were so “courteously” provided to the citizens, slipping in and out of consciousness. He had resisted “Efficiency Management” training earlier that day, and it was a choice that had left him bruised and bleeding.
He thought he felt the cot dip slightly. A slim, cool fingertip traced his cheek, accompanied by a soft growling purr from somewhere above him; an Erika. Cecil realized this in an offhand way, too weak to give it much thought. The Erika continued to caress his face, golden wings creating a soft, glowing shield separating them from the rest of the Picnic.
It took a few minutes for Cecil to realize that strength was returning to him, that his wounds no longer stung. The Erika continued their ministrations, pulling the exhaustion and hurt from him bit by bit, until all that remained was a calm tiredness that Cecil found himself unable to fight, dropping off into a blessed, dreamless slumber. He wondered about that day after the battle against Strex had been waged and won.
Chalking it up to exhaustion and resisting brainwashing, he put it out of his mind for months until one night he was laying in bed with Marcus. They were watching TV and Cecil laid half sprawled across the angel’s lap, dozing. He became aware of fingers slowly tracing his jaw, Marcus humming a melody as he gently brushed his fingertips along Cecil’s cheek.
