All our times have come...

Bryn and Teddy parted ways for the evening in awkward silence. He'd crashed on the couch, and she claimed her bed. She lay awake reading the peace-promoting words of the Dalai Lama until she could barely keep her eyes open. She turned off her lamp and let the book drop to the floor. Sleep followed soon...

Bryn kept a bottle of vodka in the bedside table - just a pint, really - and she'd downed it while Teddy slept off whatever fucking problem he'd developed that evening. Whatever. At least he wouldn't break anymore of her dishes while he was passed out.

"You're being used."

"Yeah, shut it, Catharsis. I'm soooo not in the mood for you right now," she said as she sat up in bed and pulled off the shirt. On the other end of the room, her symbiote self stood smirking, arms at her sides. She shrugged it off as she moved to admire herself in her full-length mirror. "Yeah, he's right. I've got a pretty rockin' ass. Man, I look good, and this ink is solid. I don't know what his problem is..." she mused, tracing the wave patterns with a fingertip. The ink was completely healed.

"It won't be much longer, Brynhilde. He only has to endure you until he gets what he wants," giggled Catharsis.

Bryn groaned and rolled her eyes. "You said that last time, and he's still around, isn't he?" she muttered, hands on her hips as she continued to look herself over. Catharsis crept up behind her, hands clasping her shoulders as it purred in her ear, "His goals aren't accomplished."

She pulled away and frowned, not liking the way she was being spoken to. Stepping into the living room, she was pleasantly surprised to find herself in the stunning halter dress that Torrent had dressed her in. Teddy was passed out on the couch, and she leaned in to whisper, "We're going to die in the end." Where had that come from? She shrugged it off and put on a sexy pair of white pumps.

"Damn, I look good. If he's going to be all caught up in his head with that power stuff, maybe I'll just go dancing," she said as she threw on a leather jacket and grabbed her baseball bat.

Her feet took her through the city to the Ghetto and the Phoenix. She stood outside, staring at it distantly, and suddenly she felt a sharp pain as something slashed at her back. "Torrent?!" she screeched, spinning 'round to swing the bat at his skull. She wasn't getting any more scars!

... but there was no one there.

Hrodrich emerged from the shadows, smirking. "I'm not sure where the doctor went, but I took care of them this time. Would you care for a dance?" he said, extending a hand to her. He was, of course, dressed for a night on the town in a fine pinstripe suit. The baseball bat was forgotten as she smiled and accepted.

Immediately, she was at the Mayor's Ball. They were dancing a waltz, and everyone was eyeing her. In the middle of the song, the Mayor called everyone to attention and beckoned her to the stage. With a sincere blush, she obliged and approached, addressing them in a full-length blue gown with matching gloves. Her hair was much longer, flowing. Lovely.

"Thank you all so, so very much for coming!" she began. "Without you, PACEM wouldn't be possible! Together, we're going to bring the city together as peacefully as possible. We'll show the work that mutants and humans alike can change the world side-by-side!" she declared, building steam as she delivered a triumphant speech. It was met with uproarious approval, and from across the room, a young man met her eyes.

Alex.

She found herself sitting on the edge of the bed in the room above the Grotto again. "Just stay the night..." he said shyly. She felt strangely guilty, but she couldn't figure out why. There was something, someone in the back of her mind. Everything was fuzzy. When he tried to kiss her again, she didn't resist. He was kind, gentle-hearted. No false pretenses. It was easy to like him. Her inexperienced mind glossed over whatever may have followed, and she moved to the window in a partial state of dress.

"Scream for us!"

She heard it before she saw Torrent, but there he was, looming in front of her just outside the window. She tried to scream for Alex, tried to back away - but he was already dead and bloodied. Brynhilde was reduced to tears as he grabbed her by the throat and dragged her into the cold night air. She dangled in his grasp, two stories above concrete.

"Do you know what a martyr is?" purred Catharsis from the rooftop with a throaty laugh.

Bryn could hardly breath as Torrent slowly wrung her neck. "I will end everything you love."

And then he dropped her.

The young woman actually cried out and rolled off the bed. She landed in a tangled pile of blankets, and wept as she fought to free herself from them. Backing into the corner of the room, she sobbed hysterically, and covered her face. Her fingertips dug into her scalp as she let the tears flow freely.

Eventually, the sniffling subsided. She reached for the bedside table and pulled out the pint. There was just enough left for one night's sleep. She drank until she knew she wouldn't dream. Then she crawled back into bed, curling up into a ball.

"A martyr has to bear witness," she whispered to herself.