hello (mattie)

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 1031 WORDS Matthew Williams OUTFIT Because, the mother didn't want someone dressed in ugly clothes, lol.

When the guards dragged her out of her little holding cell, she had thought it was time to go back to the regular ones. Another auction had come and gone and she hadn’t been contracted. It was the way that they had worked – at least, until someone decided that she was too precious to pass up on. She was…tiny. She wasn’t the tallest mutant around, not by a long shot. Nor was she the best fed. If anything, Maria tended to look like the skeletal figure who haunted her. She was too small and not at all well fed. It would take years for her to be able to get back to an appropriate weight. All the work Weeds had put into her to make sure that she didn’t look starved like she had when she came in from the streets of Mexico had been undone in a year in the Underground. It wasn’t fine. But, she had learned to live with it. Had learned that she was going to be dragged out and paraded in front of all these potential buys. Look at the foreigner, they would say. Most of the mutants were foreigners, but they weren’t called out on it. Not with her particular coloring. She was exotic. No one looked like her. They’d pull her hair out of her braid. They would pull on her hair until it looked almost as lively as it did when washed. They’d make her stand and command her to not curl up in a ball and fall asleep. For the most part, she tried to comply with their wishes. But, she was almost always too weak to stay awake for long. She’d lean against the bars. She’d feel her strength leave her and slide down so her legs were spread out in front of her. Then, it was just a matter until she fell asleep and would be hit in the back with the butt of a gun. That, or people would pull at her hair through the bars. But, not touch her skin. The guards were magnificent about telling everyone to stay away from any skin she might be showing. It would be deadly for them, they said. That wasn’t true, but she appreciated that no Russian memories flooded into her head or haunted her dreams like the rest of them. Like Matthew and his brother, Alfred. So, when the guards dragged her out of her cell, she thought she was going to be thrown into the regular ones. She was wrong. She missed the almost sympathetic look in her direction. The auctioneers weren’t wrong when they said she was very compliant. It made her want to vomit – that she was being sold like a slave. Mexicans never believed in slavery – but it helped that she knew she was going to be fed. It helped that she knew she was going to be able to shower and, for a while, have someplace to sleep where the bedspring didn’t stab her in the back or she had something warm when the cell got too cold. She didn’t like being sold out, but she didn’t mind it. She certainly liked it more than sitting around. At least, it would give her time to be away. Maybe, if no one paid attention, she could find some news channel from back home and try to find out what had been happening. No one really liked to tell her. All they had wanted from her was a babysitter. Someone who could cook and clean and watch after the baby without really fussing or without being worried that she would steal anything. They wanted someone that didn’t have to worry about paying – someone that wouldn’t charge outrageous sums. That was fine. That was something Maria could work with. She was given a new set of clothes; the mother…the mother even gave her some of her own to wear. It was an ugly, long skirt with long white socks and a long sleeved grey shirt that fit her too big, but it wasn’t the clothes the Underground had given her. They smelled clean, if a little old. It was like they had been in storage. The best part of all was that she wasn’t needed. They didn’t need her today. If she was careful and didn’t get herself kidnapped and didn’t try to run away, she was able to go somewhere. The father would even drop her off. At first, she wanted to go to the library. There would be free computers there, free books. Then, she wanted to go to the park. Surely, there would be someone there with a ball and she could play soccer? She could stretch her legs and go running, or lay in the extremely cold ground and absorb all of the sun that she possibly could. In the end, she settled for the church. He’d dropped her off and she carefully stood outside the beautiful, Catholic church. It even had a nice little cemetery behind it. Her heart swelled. In Mexico, churches were often where she’d be able to sneak in and rest before a priest or a bishop or nuns would run her off, but churches were plentiful and she could always sneak into another one. This one was different; open and inviting. She just couldn’t go in. She hadn’t gone to confession in years. She hadn’t stepped inside of one since before Weeds, right before she had been caught. So, Maria stood out in front and put her hand on one of the black bars that made up the gate right outside of it, wanting more than anything to be able to go inside and pray, but relishing in the feeling of cold metal. She’d purposely left behind her gloves. She needed a sign. Something that reminded her of home, of any of the few friends that she had made but hadn’t been able to see in years. Freedom was nice, but she really, really missed being able to have someone to talk to that didn’t make fun of her accent, or accepted her for who she was without making her like she didn’t belong on the earth. Something. Someone.

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew slipped through the crowds, mind distant, reflecting on his latest assignment. It had been easier than he had expected, which left him with far more time on his hands than he’d expected. He supposed that he could return to the Underground, but… the weather was beautiful, the winter sun shining like a pearl in the pale blue sky with not a hint of wind. Matthew couldn’t help but smile, looking up at the sky, taking in the subtle hues of the day. Perhaps it would be worth lingering a day or so longer. Who knows how long it would be until his next contract and Matthew had missed being under a free sky. The only question now was… what to do with his freedom?

He wondered through the city, another anonymous soul in a sea of humanity. It was nice, to be so… invisible. The voices in his head had subsided for the time being and for the first time, Matthew could almost believe he was normal. And so, for the first time in a long time, Matthew smiled. And for the first time, Matthew was outside of himself.

Which is probably why he noticed her. Any other day, he wouldn’t have. The voices were too loud, too consuming. But not today.

It was her hair that caught his eye. That wild collection of darkly colored loops and coils and curls. Matthew would recognize that hair anywhere. How often had Matthew dreamt of those curls, comforted himself with the memory of how the light seemed to dance along those untamable strands. At least, he did when he could still dream. It hardly seemed possible, after all of this time. A figment perhaps, a wraith of better times, like Al had been. And yet, there was little doubt in his mind as he fell in step behind her, violet eyes glimmering in an otherwise impassive face.

She walked slowly, and Matthew recognized himself in those movements. She walked as one who found the activity to be wholly new and just a bit intimidating. If it wasn’t her first time outside of the cells, it was close to it. And she was thin, so much thinner than he remembered. Painfully thin. Matthew felt the first round of irritation spike in his chest. She hadn’t been fed well. And it made sense, her powers didn’t lend themselves to being very useful in combat…likely her times in the arena brought more pain than rewards. He would certainly have to change that.

She suddenly turned and Matthew followed. Matthew would always follow. It was only when he stepped inside the building and the dusty scent of incense filled his nose that he realized he was in a church. Interesting. Matthew had never been very religious, and nothing in his life had caused him to revisit the idea. But he could see the appeal, standing in the sanctuary. Everything felt peaceful here, ethereal. His gaze drifted back to the slim figure, sliding into a pew.

Without a thought, and not a word to anyone, Matthew slipped into the pew and took a seat beside her. If he had been anyone else, he probably would have struggled to come up with some witty quip about running into each other. But he wasn’t anyone else.

“Maria…” Her name left his lips in a soft whisper, tasting like a prayer as his hand rested on her arm. And suddenly it made sense to him. Of course they would meet here. It was the only way they could have met.

After all, it was only fitting that his angel should be found in a church.

word count: 606

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Even half insane Mattie's still a hopeless romantic

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 847 WORDS Matthew Williams OUTFIT Bruh. My feels.

The day was almost nice; it wasn’t as frigid as some of the other times she had been out. But, it wasn’t warm. It was never warm in Russia. She almost stayed at the gate, fearful of what would happen if she walked in. Would God smite her for all that she had done - for the memories and the happiness of others she could take away? Would He punish her for neglecting her faith, for not praying as hard as she had been taught? Was He angry that she did not turn out the blessed human he had created, but, instead, had transformed into his mutinous beast? No, she decided firmly. He was not like; He would not abandon His daughter when she needed Him. She contemplated walking away, enjoying the freedom while it lasted before her current Master came to pick her up once more and deliver her back into the graces of servitude. Contemplated it, but decided against it in the end. It was because she had become more than just a little dizzy. Her hands pushed the gates open, wincing at the loud squeaks that they gave when she did so. It reminded her of the cells they threw her into once she had lost a fight. The cells made those same noises, as did the beds she’d curl up on, mindful to avoid the springs that stood out. She paced herself, walking slowly and unsurely into the cathedral. Maria had practice walking before, but there was a difference in the amount of walking and standing she had to do today and pacing the length of her cell in the Underground. This was more strenuous, and not at all something she had been used to. She had gotten too used to sleeping her days away, curled up. Sleeping made the pain go away - the pain in her limbs from having lost countless of fights, the pain in her heart from seeing these visions she wasn’t sure were hers or someone she had come in unfortunate contact with. The smell of incense reminded her of the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe; the giant church she often snuck into for warmth. The pews were old looking, and nothing in the building looked golden or worthy of being there, but it was nice. It was homey, and it made her feel more like the Maria Sanchez that grew up an entire continent away. The statue of Mary looked down on her without any of the contempt she had grown used to seeing. It had been a long time since anyone had last looked at her like that. The other mutants glowered at her with a mixture of pity and annoyance. She was often deemed to weak to fight, and a hassle. She was someone who stood between them and their next meal. The humans often gave her looks of hatred and disgust and fear; intrigued by how exotic she looked, but hating that a touch could bring out the worst in them. The last time...had been the last look she had ever received from Matthew. It was too hard to bring up her own memories and avoid bringing his up. She didn’t want to see his twin, didn’t want to see the blue eyes and forget about the piercing purple. She didn’t want to know that the image she could conjure up was so close to the one she wanted, but not quite there. No one she’d asked had seen him. No one she’d ask could tell her anything about him...or wanted to, if they knew anything. “María,” She said, sliding into a nearby pew and whispering to the statue. “Perdóname. I am so sorry.” For what, she wasn’t entirely sure, but the sentiment always made her feel better. But, it didn’t keep her from jumping whenever someone placed an arm on her. ‘No!’ She thought desperately, closing her eyes and fearing. It was her capture all over again. The nuns were angry with her; the priest disappointed. She was going to get shipped to the Underground again. Dios, they would punish her; they would keep her from any food worse than they had before. They would...give her what she wished for? She knew that voice. She had played it over and over again in her head, dreamed of the day when she was reunited with the speaker. “Mateo?” Her eyes popped open, mouth dropping. “Matthew?” She had been practicing. For years, she’d repeated his name slowly and surely until she could almost say it like she had. Maria was beside herself, unable to control. She felt herself lean forward, her arms throw themselves around him, but carefully as to avoid any skin contact. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, her arms sliding under his until her hands could connect. “Is you? Not a dream?”

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew was frozen. She was here. She was actually here! Her scent enveloped him like a balm, soothing the ragged remnants of his mind like nothing else could. And she was so warm… warm and solid and… and she was hugging him! She didn’t flinch away from him, didn’t regard him with the same wary suspicion as everyone else. She actually wanted to see him, was actually happy to have him here with her. She was pressed to him, her face buried in the hollow of his collarbone. Matthew was so relieved that he was so heavily clothed against the Russian weather; he couldn’t bear transmitting his memories to her now. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy and he certainly wouldn’t wish it on the girl pulling him so close.

He finally regained control of his limbs and finally wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. And she smelled like home. His grip on her tightened, as though simply by that action alone he could keep her with him forever. She was real, she was here, and for that moment, she was his alone.

“It’s not a dream, Maria… it’s not…” He loved the way she said his name, the honeyed accent infusing it with such a warmth. He wanted her to say it again, so that he could memorize just how it sounded, so that he could keep it as a talisman to ward of the midnight specters in labcoats that haunted his dreams. Someone still loved him. Someone still saw him as something other than a weapon.

Tears filled his eyes and his body shook under the weight of that realization. He took a deep breath, one that shuddered as it passed his lips. There was so much he wanted to ask her, so much he wanted to say. Her memory had been an anchor, a mirage that gave him the hope he needed to survive in a windowless room where pain and madness had been his only companions. She and Al… they were the only things that had kept his heart still beating. He had to tell her. To thank her. He would have been just another failed experiment, another piece of trash—marked for the incinerator. But he had survived, maybe not wholly, but he was there and he had her in his arms and he had to tell her so many things.

But he didn’t. His words failed him. And so he simply remained where he was, his arms wrapped around her, stifling the cries that threatened to overwhelm him as he rested against the pillow of her hair. It was fleeting. He knew that. They would be separated again and Matthew might not see her again. She could be contracted out permanently, he could finally cross that last line and be eliminated as a threat…. They may simply live out the rest of their lives without chance allowing them to cross paths… but none of that mattered. Not in that instant. Because she was there and she wasn’t afraid of him. She still saw the human, rather than the monster…

So long as she did, Matthew could too.

And so he cried, the great sobs finally breaking loose and wracking his frame as he held on to her. He cried, not out of fear or loneliness, not out of anguish or euphoria or relief. He cried because that was the human thing to do…

…It had been such a long time since he’d been anything close to human.

word count: 590

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Sorry, Maria....

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 802 WORDS Matthew Williams OUTFIT -melts-

There was this savage little part of Maria that she liked to keep holed down, deep inside where no one else could see it. It was the part of her that cried out in the injustice of the system they were all forced to become a part of. It was the part of her that didn’t shy away from her powers, the part that knew the damage she could create if only they let her. This little part was so angry that they didn’t put her to good use – that they locked her up in a cage to be paraded around when she knew if they only got close enough…if she forgot or neglected to wear something to cover a part of her skin. She could make someone regret it. But, she never liked that part of herself. She hated violence. She hated it while she ran around taking care of her cousins, hated it while she was forced to hide on the streets. Hated it even more when she was thrown onto a platform to fight for the amusements of humans. She still had bruises up and down her body from where the mutants refused to pull back. Even though she was hugging him and had a pretty good suspicion that he wasn’t just a dream or something her mind had made up to make her feel better, it still broke her heart. It wasn’t until he was crying that she realized that tears were falling from her as well. When had she become so good at silently sobbing? She swallowed the lump in her throat and adjusted so the hug was not so awkward. It felt nice to have him loom over her. Mateo had always been bigger than she had. Even when he was slumped and seemed to be hiding away, he was taller. It didn’t take much, not really. Maria was always short and small. She looked even smaller now, having rarely eaten. His arms wrapped around her so easily. She pressed against him. She didn’t want to look up. Even though his arms tightened and pressed against her bruises, she didn’t want to pull away. She didn’t know the next time she would be able to see him like this. Didn’t know the next time that she’d have the pleasure. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to become hysterical crying…or hysterical laughter. She wasn’t sure which. “You’re here.” Hysterical giggles it was. Her hands tightened around his clothes. “I look for you. Every day.” Every day until she had given up hope and even then. He didn’t have a frightening power like she had. No one needed to shy away from him like they did with her. As far as she knew, there were no warnings out that he was too dangerous. He looked…well. Not like the child she had seen; he still wasn’t as healthy as she’d like for him to be, but even without looking at his face she knew he was better off than she was. Good. That put away most of her worries that he had been mistreated. She was one thing, but she didn’t think she could handle knowing anything bad had happened to him. He was family. He might not have been her immediate family, but he was still hers. “No,” she smiled into the hug, rubbing his back as best she could. “Don’t cry, Matthew.” God, she would never get tired of saying that. Would never get tired of being there. If she were to close her eyes and wake up in her cell and all of this had become some fabricated dream, she would be okay with that. Oh, Maria would be saddened. It might induce some sobbing to wake up and realize that this moment hadn’t been…real, but at least she would have taken it to mean that he was doing okay. She did pull back, yanking her sleeve over her hand so that she could carefully brush away his tears without making any contact. This was nice. It didn’t take much prompting for her to repeat the act with her left hand so that she could hold his face between her hands and take a better look. “Amor, what I do?” To make him feel better, to make him stop crying, to enjoy the moment. Those were the purple eyes that tied her through the days, there were the quivering lips she longed to see pull back into that shy little smile that melted her heart. “Say to me. I make you better.” How she was supposed to do that for sure, she didn’t know. She didn’t care. She just wanted to make him feel better – to make him feel as ecstatic as she did that he was there and he was alive.

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew didn’t wish for much any more. But God! At that moment, he would have given up anything for time to just stop. No past, no future, just the two of them, in the church, with nothing between them. He heard her words, almost at a distance. God, he loved hearing her, hearing the laughter bubble forth from her lips. A part of him knew that it wasn’t exactly the good kind of laughter, but then who was he to pass judgment on the sanity of others?

He just couldn’t believe that she had remembered him, actively looked for him. Everyone forgot about him in the end. And why wouldn’t they? He was forgettable. It was what the government relied on, a major part of his success as a contact killer, his ability to blend into the background. So why did she place such importance in him?

He felt her hands, protected by the sleeves, brushing over his cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears that still ran down his cheeks in stubborn rivulets. She was still trying to take care of him. What a sick joke. It was obvious to him, she was clinging to life, her body wasting away under the layers of tattered clothes she wore. Her features were sharper than he remembered, made bolder by a long period of neglect. Her eyes were stark against that backdrop, shining like embers in the dimly lit sanctuary, lit up with concern and… love? Was that really what he saw there? He had such little experience with that emotion and yet… it was the only word he could think to place there. She was in far worse shape than he was, physically and yet all she could talk about was how to help him.

“I’m fine,” it might not have been the truth but in that moment it was close enough to not feel like a lie. He caught her sleeved hand in his and bent down to kiss it, wishing he didn’t have the fabric between them, but knowing it was necessary. The tattoo peering from his sweatshirt was a physical reminder of why Maria could never let herself be immersed in his memories again. “I-I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m fine, really.” He tried a weak smile but it fell flat as his muscles fumbled around the unfamiliar action.

“A lot’s happened since the Underground and—“ He looked down, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. He hadn’t looked for her. He had spent so little of his time in the Underground anchored to reality, until the voices in his head took on more familiar faces and nothing seemed real anymore. “I… I lost a lot of time and…” He looked up and his eyes fixated on hers. “It's hard to explain...But, I won’t let that happen again, Maria.” His vision was clearer, focused, grounded in the present, in reality—it made for a startling change in the young man. “I have… privileges now. I can help you. I can get you food and I can fight in your place if you want, in the arena, I mean.” He blushed, but continued. It was about time someone benefited from this hell aside from him. He could handle the violence, indeed he would thrive on the bloodshed, but he knew full well that it was killing her, both mentally and physically. “I know it won’t be much but… I want to take care of you in anyway I can. I won’t lose track of you again, Maria, I swear.” She had always been the one to look out for him in Weeds, to chew out those who would tease him, to soothe over the hurts levied on him by other students. And now it was his turn.

And monster or man, it didn’t matter. He was going to look out for her.

word count: 646

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Mattie reads too much... ignore the sappy gestures...

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 901 WORDS Matthew Williams OUTFIT sob. she'd sob if he got hurt.

She felt her smile strain ever so slightly. There was this underlying need to believe him. Life would be so much easier if she could. She had long since convinced herself that her life would be easier if she could give in and believe what people initially told her. Except, Maria knew his face better than she knew his. She dreamt of him. She saw him even when she was awake, that last look before he had left Weeds for the Underground before her. She’d ingrained it into her brain and brought it closer and closer to herself to the point where there were days that she wasn’t sure if he were real or not. Those thoughts were always the worst; the days where that thought weaved itself into her brain hurt her more than any other punches. There were moments when she knew he was real, and moments where she wasn’t sure that she had ever met him; that she had ever held his hand. Mateo’s skin felt cool, even on the other side of her sleeves. She felt her eyes lower, peeking at him through his lashes. It would be easy to check. It would be so easy to check and see that he really was fine. But, that was wrong. She had to remind herself. It was wrong to look into people’s memories unless they gave her permission. This wasn’t like that one time, once upon a time. He’d hugged her and looked at her, but he hadn’t given her permission. But, as tired and as weary as Maria had become, she wasn’t blind. She knew he was lying. Yes, he was better off than she was. His cheeks were not as hollowed as hers were, but there were no laugh lines. There were no hints of real happiness. Her Matthew hadn’t been happy in the years that they’d been apart. So he wasn’t fine, she decided. He was telling her that to make her feel better, to take away part of her burden. It was…sweet. It was almost too sweet. It wasn’t anything she had gotten used her, and she could feel her face burning at the thought. When had it been that she associated her happiness with him? “Mi amor mentiroso.” She hummed, not quite shaking her head; her little liar. Even with his kiss to her hand – too much affection too fast, she’d almost panicked. When had been the last time anyone had looked at her without some feeling of disgust in their eyes? Too long, and here he was. Here was Matthew looking at her like she was some sort of angel, hugging her and kissing her hand like it wasn’t skin on bones – she knew he was lying. “Es…okay. I am okay. Just…not again, si? It was hard.” Her annunciation was slow. She was so eager to show him how her English had improved, despite the thick accent surrounding it. “It like you weren’t mine, so long. I worry. For you, all the time I worry.” Was he getting enough sleep? Were they treating him right? Did he still dream about his family? Did he still think about her? Was he happy – well, as happy as he could be with the situation they were stuck in? Was he eating enough? There were others that she worried about, too. Mateo had been her first and best friend while at Weeds, but he hadn’t been her only one. The rest were…more like acquaintances and more like people she would just see. But, he was here! He was real! He was hers. She felt herself visibly brighten at the mention of her name. No one called her by it, referring to her by her last name if they had to call her by anything at all. There were even some who referred to her by her homeland, so focused on dehumanizing her. “No explain, if you no, uh, don’t want to.” She nodded, shrugging her shoulders and going back to what she’d been doing. It pained her to see him cry. She didn’t like it. She wanted him to smile. Maria would do anything to see it once more. She almost wanted to pull him into another hug, but settled for clearing his face of any residue tears. She was lucky, perhaps, that he still had a hold of her. She was lucky that she didn’t want to see him frown because her face fell. He wanted to…to fight for her? No. That was not okay. She couldn’t let him do that. Maybe he could handle it, but she didn’t want to find out. “No.” She said firmly, shaking her head. She wasn’t frantic. She wasn’t. “You get hurt. You be bleeding or scratches. Moretones, for me? No. No, Matthew, please? No.” She drew one of her hands back, feeling it shake as she hesitantly lifted the side of her shirt, adamantly not staring at him. This was okay, in God’s home, right? She was protecting him what happened in that arena. Her skin was coated with bruises, scratches and scars. There was a nasty one on her thigh that she was thankful she didn’t have to show him. The ones on her stomach weren’t as bad…some were fading, but they were still various shades of green, blue and purple. “Not for me. You happy that makes me happy. I cry if you hurt for me.”

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

The shaking was back. Matthew was silent for a long time, his violet eyes fixated on the myriad of colors marring her bronzed skin at the ribs showing plainly under the taut skin. He had been right. She’d been used as a bait. She had been mistreated. She had been starved.

He pulled away slightly, feeling the buzzing, that hateful buzzing building in his ears. Not now! He shook his head, hands covering his ears to blot out the sound. Not even Maria had been spared from the rot, the putrid hands of humans. He didn’t understand how anyone could look as such a kind soul and want to do any harm to her. Couldn’t understand how anyone could see his angel and feel anything but love for her. His hand reached out, gripping her arm tighter than he’d intended.

“You… you shouldn’t worry about me, Maria. I can hold my own.” There was a darkness to his gaze, a grim certainty in his eyes as he looked at her. The madness that had made up so much of his adult life was rising up, overwhelming him once more. “I promise you. It won’t be me bleeding in the arena. I’ll win. And you can finally stop fighting.” For Matthew, the fights were a relief, a release. There he could break bones. He could finally drop the subservient, docile, façade and go after his opponent with all the fury, all the rage, all the madness that had consumed him. In the arena he could share his torment. Outside of being outside on a contract, being in the arena was the closest thing to being free he could feel.

But it was clear that Maria did not feel the same about fighting. To her it was something horrible. Something to cry over, to fear and revile. Matthew felt the first thrill of panic run through him at the thought. If she hated the matches so much, what would she think about someone who willingly participates in them? What if he became the thing she reviled? He finally released her arm, looking conflicted. If she hated him… But as he stared at her, taking in her starved features, he realized that it didn’t matter. Even if she did hate him, even if she turned away from him like everyone else… he wasn’t going to let her go on with this type of existence.

“Maria, please. I am… I’m a good fighter. I can get you food. I can get you out of this constant hurt and hunger. Please. I’m… I’m not good for anything else. But at least I can help you. I can save you.” It was too late for him. He knew that, could hear it in the buzzing in his ears, in the voices that lurked in the periphery of his mind. There was no saving him. But maybe, maybe if Maria could live, if Maria could hold onto the memories of the little boy with violet eyes, maybe that would be enough. Perhaps as long as she believed that boy still existed, he would still be alive in some form. Maybe the lab hadn’t been able to extinguish that boy after all…

Matthew twitched, the buzzing only getting louder in mind. You really are an idiot. The voices are agitated, almost insulted at the flicker hope they found in him. You are an experiment. A weapon. Don’t kid yourself. It doesn’t matter what that stupid little girl thinks. Matthew Williams died two years ago. Don’t forget that, EI1423. He curled in on himself, humming in a vain attempt to drown out the buzzing, the words, the truth about himself that he didn’t want to acknowledge. He couldn’t lose himself to that madness yet. Couldn’t lose himself, because by doing so, he would hurt the person who meant so much to him.

“Maria… I have nothing else but you,” he murmured, finally regaining enough clairity to look up at her. “Please. I can’t lose you again. I can’t. Please.”

word count: 670

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Maria gets to see the real Mattie... sorry Maria...

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 731 WORDS Matthew Williams OUTFIT this isn't good, and I'm sorry, lol.

She yanked her shirt down and try not to wince at how much it hurt when he grabbed her. Apparently, she’d been injured there and hadn’t even been completely aware of it.It wasn’t just that she hated the fighting in the arena. Maria tended to hate all violence because she didn’t see the point of it. Perfect harmony was a nice dream, but it wasn’t realistic. The arena violence, however, was worse than any of the others. It was forced conflict. Outside of this town in Russia, none of the mutants would have had a problem with one another. Very rarely were two of them from the same country, let alone the same region, same city. The electric shocks that they got forced even the most complacent of them into fights, lest they be beat on and hurt even worse. That was when they were starved; it was part of the reasons that her hiking up her shirt meant not only exposing the bruises that the other mutants gave her, but her ribs. It exposed the way her stomach curved in with a lack of nutrients. People could be cruel; it was a fact. But, some of them were only cruel because they were forced into it. She loathed violence, but she had partaken in the event herself. She hadn’t just stood there and let the others beat her. She had acted upon it and hit the lesser mutants if she could. She didn’t do it out of her own will – if given the chance, she’d probably return to working. She’d live with her family until she was married, mostly because that was what was asked of her. She never had the chance of think of the future that she wanted – did she want kids? Did she want a career? But, that was out of her hands. This, though, this she had some say over. “Only some want to fight, cariño.” It wasn’t about whether or not he could win. She had no doubt that he could; he’d always been stronger than her. “No one want to beat girl who can’t fight back. But, you? You they have no problem.” Her powers weren’t very physical – they weren’t flashy. The only people her powers seemed to affect were herself. When they didn’t see her fighting them back as they fought her, they relented. Most of them weren’t cruel. Maria didn’t have to close her eyes. The images and ghost-like figures were always there, always with her. She didn’t have to look very hard to be able to conjure up the picture that Matthew had given her all those years ago. She could still see it – that small memory of his mother and his brother. She cherished the thought of a smaller him above everything else. “I’m okay with no food, amor.” She said this slowly, trying to convey her meaning. Something was wrong. She knew it, even if she couldn’t tell exactly what it was. It would have been so easy to reach out. To brush her fingers against his cheek and see what was tormenting him so. Whatever it’d been, it was a strong enough memory that it called his attention and pushed at him. Ah, but he’d be angry with her. It would ruin the tiny little memory of this moment. Instead, she pulled him onto another hug and held on as tightly as she could. Who was she to deny him anything he wanted to do. Her time in the Underground had not been pleasant, but she knew nothing of the hells that he had gone through. “You save me always.” How could he not see that? When everything else got to be too much, it was him that guided her back to reality. He helped her remember what was hers and what…wasn’t. “You no lose me, cariño.” She promised. Maria would swear up and down that he wouldn’t. The only thing keeping them separated was his apparent freedom. “I no stop you, if that is what you want. But, I am with you always. You, too. With me.” She smiled at him. The attempt seemed a little weak to her. She didn’t want him to fight. She wanted him to be safe. “You fight…for me? That’s okay for you? I just need you.” Because, try as she might, she couldn’t quite comprehend why he would want to.

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew looked up, brow furrowing at the hug. After so many years of abuse, neglected, feigned kindness, it was hard for him to process her honest affection towards him. It didn’t make sense, how could she still see good in him? How could she touch him and not see what a monster he had become? Matthew smiled weakly, looking at her hands resting on his leg. She was worried about him, she actually wanted him to be around. She was actually pleading with him to stay in her life.

And perhaps he could… Matthew had certainly gained privileges since he’d begun to work with the government. While he wasn’t stable enough to live outside of the Underground full time, he had won enough favors and frightened enough guards to be able to have a certain amount of leeway while in the cells. That included food and mobility not often afforded to other prisoners. And now? Now Matthew finally had a reason to use that freedom. He rested a hand on her shoulder, frowning at the fragility of it beneath her sweater. He had to do something, before the best thing in his life withered away and became just another specter.

“Maria. I want to. I want to do this more than anything.” He murmured, his eyes meeting hers with a surprising amount of resolve and clarity. “Please. Just… Please… I can’t let you continue to hurt and… and starve like this. Not when I have the resources to help. Please…. Maria…” He worried at his lip as he gazed at her. “I can’t… I can’t free you, but I can make your life easier, if you’ll let me. No more fights. More food… and no more guards bullying you. Never again.”

He didn’t mind giving her his privileges. It was worth it, just to see her smile. Just to know that she was happy. And to know that the thought of him brought such a warmth to her eyes, brought that smile to those full lips… even if he never saw her again, he knew that it was enough. Being needed? It was a strange feeling, one that had been lost long ago, stripped away in a series of dark rooms, sterile tables, and pharmacologically fueled nightmares. But hearing those words, sweetened by her familiar honeyed tones, reminded him of just how nice it was to be someone that was needed, someone to rely on.

“Don’t worry, Maria. I promise. I won’t be going anywhere. Not as long as you need me. I’ll always be there for you.” Taking a risk, Matthew ducked his head and kissed her shoulder, the closest form of affection he’d given or received in nearly two years. It might not have normal. But after so long, Mattie neither knew nor cared what was normal anymore.

That kiss was more than he ever could have dreamed of.

word count: 481

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: 

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

Hello, it's me I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet To go over everything 580 WORDS Matthew Williams one day, i'm gonna be able to stop apologizing so much.

So, starving was bad. She couldn’t lie about that. She allowed herself to go to sleep to escape it, but it wasn’t like it was an entirely new concept. So, it had never been this bad back home. It almost freaked her out. She liked to sleep on her back, just because she’d be all too aware that the mattress touched on what it shouldn’t. Maria wasn’t a stranger to it, though. There were days where things wouldn’t sell, when Mama or Papa would come home with little. She’d have bread smeared with beans and be sent off home. The bread would sometimes be stale, or the beans a couple of days old. It wasn’t bad. There was no shame in it. There was shame in fighting for one’s food, in beating someone weaker than you. Her powers were that healthy punishment; all those bad memories and the occasional good ones she couldn’t seem to forget were a healthy understanding. But, ay, Maria was certainly that she wanted affection. That wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t unfathomable. Sometimes, people patted her on the back for fighting, albeit with gloves and only when they forgot that it was her. Hugging Matthew was nice; it wasn’t a strain, and she didn’t have to worry about whether or not he would flinch because of her powers. If anything, he leaned and thrived for it. And, he willingly touched her. She beamed, wanting to pull his hand into hers and keep it there forever, unreal as it would be. “I don’t like it.” She sucked in a breath. “But okay.” Why did it feel so terrible? In another world, all of this would have been unnecessary. They’d probably be friends. She knew that with no doubt. If they’d met, they’d be friends. They’d eat at cafes and have vastly different breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It was even fun to think about it. If they worked together, she’d sit in whatever board meeting and doodle or text him under the table. He’d probably pay attention and take notes. She shook her head. “I could touch them. They leave me alone, no? You no fight, and I okay.” It was always an option. Just not a good or long one. Oh, was that her face on fire? Maria didn’t realize that Russia could ever get so warm. She wrapped her hands over her face, hiding it behind her sweater. Her cheeks were starting to hurt, too. She was smiling too much. And then, oh. Oh, why did her mind have to be cruel when she was trying to be so happy? She couldn’t help but think, in that small corner of her mind, that that was probably as far as she’d ever be able. There were always going to be things that everyone (Matthew) wanted to keep private. There were going to be secrets she simply wasn’t privy to having. It was fine – it was understandable. But, her powers made secrets...almost impossible to keep away. She shook her head inwardly and smiled again, feeling her face flush once more with pride. “Good, ‘cause I want you there.” There wasn’t much room between them. They’d done a good job at eliminating what little space there was. Still, she eliminated what few there was to put her head on his shoulder, careful. “Why you here, cariño? I am happy you are, pero it’s too good to believe, even now.” She tried to stop her giggle, but couldn’t quite manage it.

HAYANA OF CAUTION 2.0

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Oh my God.

She was blushing. She was actually blushing. Matthew couldn’t believe his luck, that some one like him would be granted the gift of seeing the delicate display of pink highlight those delicate cheekbones. And that smile. She was smiling like that for him. He was the cause of that smile. Matthew felt a bubble of pride rise in his chest. Maria was smiling for him, sitting next to him in all of her glory… That bronzed complexion, that unruly cloud of hair, those eyes… God it didn’t seem real.

There was always that possibility. By now, Matthew was never really sure what was reality. Trying to pin down concrete events felt like trying to capture smoke with bare hands, no matter how tightly he grasped, they always slipped past him, mingling with the nightmares and delusions until there was no distinction between them. But this moment, this event? It felt real and it didn’t hurt and Mattie didn’t really care about reality, not so long as Maria was there and smiling at him like that.

“Don’t… I know how those powers affect you, Maria. I don’t want you to take that on. There’s no need, okay? I can handle it.” His voice was soft, but there was no hesitation in his words. For her, he could handle anything.

And then she was resting against him, her head a warm weight against his shoulder. This was a kind of burden that he didn’t mind taking on. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine another world, another reality, where they weren’t broken, where moments like this were commonplace, rather than hidden away like a stolen gems. He was silent for that moment, his arm shifting to wrap around her protectively as he greedily drank in the warmth of her, the feeling of her.

But of course that moment ended as all moments do. Her question, with all of its warmth and innocence, felt like a bucket of ice water. Unbidden, the memory of his last kill came flooding back, the taste of his last words, the artistry of his blood as it painted its chaotic mural on the pavement. Matthew had been a bit more brazen this time, a bit more experimental with his powers. He figured it would look suspicious (even for a town as corrupt as Archadia) if every target was made to look as though he’d decided to take a walk through his 10th story apartment window. It took some doing, but this last one looked like the unfortunate victim of a tragic hit and run, Matthew was careful, and his natural eye for detail served him well. His boss would be very please, Matthew certainly was.

But not at that moment. He couldn’t tell Maria why he’d released, why he got the extra portions, the added luxuries like books and actual pillows. She was so distraught over the thought of him hurting mutants in a fight, he couldn’t imagine how she would look at him if she knew what he was doing for his precious days above ground.

“I… I had an assignment,” he said carefully. “I work for the government now, Maria. Occasionally they have requests and I take care of it. And in return, I get special privilages. That’s all.”

He fell silent then, praying to the God he didn’t actually put much stock in that Maria would simply leave it at that.

word count: 572

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Well.... it's something

by worldie on iof