I couldn't remember my trip back to the apartment properly. The only things I was aware of were the eyes of everyone I passed, the tension deep in my gut, and the feeling of being hounded, surrounded, under some kind of threat.

Not physical threat, at least not really, but… It felt like all those eyes were closing in on me, limiting me, making me less than what I was.

When I finally stumbled into the blessedly empty elevator and hit our apartment floor number, I almost collapsed. I did, in fact, lean against the wall and slowly slide down into a sitting position. My fingers itched to clutch onto my knees and draw me into a ball, but I refused to have a full-on breakdown.

Then the door dinged open to reveal Amelia looking at me. There was tender worry in her eyes, along with something else.

My heart jumped into my throat. "You shouldn't — I don't want to —!"

"Hush. Here, give me your hand."

She stretched her hand out, offering to help me up.

Trepidation and longing swirled through me in equal measure, my fingers twitching under their sway. I can't explain why I reached out and let her close her fingers around mine, but I did. And though I flinched under her touch immediately, she just gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet.

No irrational anger reared its ugly head. No murderous desire gripped me.

A few manly tears may have slid down my cheeks, but any claims of me openly crying are nothing but slanderous lies.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she teased gently as she led me to our apartment. Quickly locking the door behind us, she dragged me over to the sofa and pushed me down. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

I almost tightened my fingers around hers to stop her from leaving, but I managed to beat back the impulse. Instead, I focused on getting my breathing under control while Amelia busied herself in the kitchen.

When she emerged with two cups of steaming, sweet-smelling drinks, I honestly could have kissed her.

"Hot chocolate! The best thing humanity ever invented. It always makes me feel better when I'm upset. And — ack, wait just a second more!"

She bustled off again, leaving the cups within easy reach of me on the coffee table. Then she rushed back with two bowls and deposited both on the same table.

"Tadah! Sweets and snacks!"

"T-Thanks," I stammered. "For… everything."

"No problem. You did save me from my father, remember? Least I can do is be here for you when you're dealing with the fucked up shit he did to you."

The sincerity in her voice took me aback. I glanced her way to see nothing but concern for me shining out from those fascinating orbs of hers.

I didn't say anything, but another part of me slowly unclenched as I dropped the fear that she would be terrified of me.

We didn't say anything for a while. We just sipped on our drinks and partook of our snacks. If I was favoring the sweets a little more than the savory selection, then who could blame me? Eventually, though, both of those ran out, and I leaned back onto the couch with a weary but relieved sigh.

Whatever had thundered through my system was thoroughly gone by that point, leaving me exhausted. I felt hollowed out.

Amelia collapsed back next to me. Her shoulder bumped into mine, making me crack an eye open to squint at her.

"So… I know you probably don't want to dwell on what happened, but I think I can do a quick test or two that should explain at least part of it."

"What kind of test?" I really didn't want to sound so suspicious of her, but it wasn't the thought of testing that made me cautious. It was the worry that whatever she wanted to do would set me off again.

"Well, for starters, can you hold out your hand for me?"

I did so. She turned so she was almost facing me fully, kind of lying on her side in a very awkward position. Though, she didn't seem to mind all that much as she gently pressed her fingers against the back of my gloved hand.

"Now, promise not to freak out?"

I cautiously nodded, seeing as nothing was happening yet. But every one of my muscles clenched when she bunched up my glove and started tugging on it gently. It slid over my arm and then hand ever so slowly, Amelia obviously giving me a chance to stop her.

I didn't, forcing myself to stay still and trust her.

The glove fell away fully, and Amelia hissed in a sharp breath as a prickle of unease climbed up my spine. "Ooof, that's still as trippy as ever to see."

I stared at my hand, once more failing to see what was so odd about it. Sure, I did have memories of the arms looking all blurry and sort of… fractal? Was that the right word? Eh. Looking 'fractal', and more than just three-dimensional. But that was before the good doctor stuck them onto my shoulders. Now, to me, they were as real and well defined as my old arms.

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In spite of the misgivings she seemed to have with my hand, Amelia reached out and gently touched it. The feeling of her fingers, cold and slightly rubbery, sent goosebumps racing over my natural skin. They did not, however, inspire murderous intent.

The most I felt was a vague sense of unease, and even that was only present when she was squinting at my hand directly.

"Nothing, I'm guessing?" she quipped, pointedly looking me in my now glasses-free eyes instead of at my 'trippy' limb.

"Yeah, I feel nothing."

"Wow. Rude. I know I'm not a sexy guy you met in a bar, but come on." I flushed, and a foxy grin stole over Amelia face. "Okay, I know I don't qualify as a romantic target for you, but I'm going to need you to do something for me."

I choked. She was never finding out how attractive I actually found her.

"You are an ass is what you are!"

"Already objectifying me in favor of one of my best features?"

"Amelia!"

"Sorry, sorry," she laughed, then smiled that same foxy grin. Except it was so much softer now, and I suddenly realized she'd rather effectively replaced my anxiety with annoyance and a dash of shyness.

"Just tell me what you need me to do!"

"Well, if you insist… I need you to touch me."

Screw shyness. Mortification, full-out embarrassment, and more than a few decisively confusing emotional mixes tore through me.

She cackled, leaning a little closer to me. "Not like that, you horny dog, you! Maybe we can do that kind of thing later." She really wasn't helping me. "For now, I just need you to use those special fingers of yours to touch my skin. Any place will do. I'll let you pick."

Was the wink needed? No, but this was Amelia, so I forced myself to sigh and look put upon rather than like an emotional mess.

"If you think that's necessary, sure."

I ignored her complaints about my comment and hesitantly reached out to brush my fingers against her cheek. Instantly, a jolt of something zapped straight into my chest. It wasn't quite the murderous rage from before, but a part of me was definitely confused by the contact, if not outright uncomfortable with it.

"Ahhh, I see I was right, then," she mumbled.

My eyes immediately snapped onto hers. I didn't quite manage to keep the desperation out of my voice. "Explain, please?"

"Well… I was just wondering why Unseen Stalkers react so badly to people. They go out of their way to slaughter every single sapient life form from our universe in the area, and they can always zero in on them without fail. Plus, no camera, no matter how advanced, can take proper pictures of the creatures."

"And…?"

"And I'm only guessing here, but from the way your arms fuck with my brain and the way you react to human touch, I can only assume that Stalkers are not… how should I put this, fully there?"

My brow furrowed as I looked between her and my hand.

She sighed. "Ugh, I'm not explaining this right. So, Stalkers are creatures from beyond reality, right?"

"Right."

"And we can only assume they're not bound to the same rules out there in their home dimension, or wherever they come from, as we are here. As humans, we operate in three dimensions. However, Stalkers are so… glitchy and weird, that they're probably not bound to just that many. They might not be bound at all! They could be some kind of vague, almost formless organisms!"

"I think you're missing a few obvious points here," I countered. "You can transport their bits. You can fight them. I can definitely see and use my arms. They don't even bother you when I cover them up with gloves."

"Exactly! What if that's it? What if they're kind of like, um, you heard about that old Terran theory, right? Schrödinger's Cat? What if they're like that! As long as they're being observed, they're actual, real, 3D creatures. What if that's why they try to kill everyone except other eldritch life forms? Just by existing near them, we're interfering with their mode of existence. Your arms are fully real and corporeal to you because you define them as such. And the closer contact they have with humans, the more they freak out! Even if you only inherited like one percent of their issues, you'd still freak out with a human touching you."

"It… makes sense, I guess? Problem, though: I don't 'freak out' around you. Not really."

Sure, there were some minor sensations and feelings, particularly when startled, but they weren't that bad.

Then Amelia sent me a wry grin and wiggled her fingers. Her greenish, cybernetic fingers.

I flushed. "Oh. Right. The Medic."

"Yes, the Medic. I'm at least part eldritch, which is probably why you aren't reacting to me. Or, well, reacting to me much. Don't think I haven't noticed you acting weird around me once or twice, mister," she teased, and in the same breath snuggled up to me, ignoring those observations that this could potentially put her in danger.

I did stiffen in response again, but for reasons that had nothing at all to do with murderous impulses. She was soft, and warm, and human contact was something I was suddenly craving.

Badly.

"So… that guy was cute, huh?" she suddenly asked, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

The flush threatened to come back, but after our little speculation session, I was a little too wrung-out for it to really surface. Not too wrung-out to groan, of course.

"Please don't start."

"He's obviously attracted to you. You could totally go for it. Why not?"

"Because I'm liable to rip his throat out?"

"Eh, we'll work on it."

For a second, I thought she'd drop it there. No such luck.

"So, are the fucked up cybernetics the only reason you're not reciprocating?"

"Amelia…"

She was giving me puppy eyes. I sighed, but caved in the end.

"Not just that, no."

"Ooooh, don't tell me there's someone else in your life? Tell me it isn't so."

"And if there is?"

"I'd be sad."

She said that with unexpected sincerity, forcing me to shift so I could look her in the eyes. My heart beat just a little faster. The parts of me that were touching her heated up until some of that fire was creeping up on my cheeks.

"Well… uh…" My tongue was refusing to work with me. Probably because we were so close to one another that I could feel her breath tickling my skin. "I'm not in a relationship, no." I hesitated for a few beats, but got the next words out quickly. "There might be someone I kind of like, though."

Her eyes flashed with something close to hurt for a moment, making my heart stutter in my chest.

"Oh? And who would that be? Anyone I know?"

Her earlier reaction gave me enough courage to press on.

"Maybe. I only just met her recently. Very judge-y, loves to make fun of me. Really, just horrible."

It wasn't the first time I ever saw it, but the red on Amelia's cheeks was as pretty as ever. "Hmm. And you say you like her anyway? Sounds weird if you ask me."

"Well… she is very cute, I'll admit. She can be very nice when she wants to be. I have no clue where I'd be without her at the moment, either, if I'm being honest."

"Wow, listen to that! I sure do share a ton of positive traits with this mystery woman. Not the negative ones, obviously. You know, you may as well declare undying love and loyalty to me instead. I'm way better, if we take that into account."

It was one of her typical speeches, full of bluster and confidence, except she was no longer looking at me and her face was flushed.

"Oh yeah? And if I did that? Then what?" I enjoyed being the one to lean in and pitch my voice in a teasing manner, for once.

Then my rebellious lab assistant's eyes flashed as they rose to stare directly at me. "This."

I was spared from having to come up with a retort when her lips met mine, robbing me of breath.

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