Whiteout Ch. 11

She kissed Val on the forehead, and Val knew, even as her mind dwindled to a small flicker, that it left a mark.

"I love you, Valerie."

FLASH.

* * *

"Where is she?"

Yun-hee kept her head down. Part of it was wanting to seem smaller, hoping that Mr. Hawthorne wouldn't single her out. Her jaw still stung from the last time he'd paid attention to her.

She also didn't want to look anyone in the eye. The whole group, sans Val, was sat down at the meeting table, and none of them wanted to be there. Mr. Hawthorne had done his work on all four of them. It made Yun-hee regret the hell she, Gibson, and Brayden had put Reuben through earlier that day. They didn't know yet what had been done to him.

None of them could ignore it now. All of them were forced into their uniforms, and Gibson, Reuben and Brayden now wore lipstick that matched their colors, just like Yun-hee did. No doubt it was something Mr. Hawthorne made them do just to get his rocks off.

She felt so stupid. Of course Mr. Hawthorne got to Val first, how could she not see that? She could've escaped, or maybe found someone else and warned them. But no, she let her better judgement escape her, and look where that got her. Just another shiny object owned by the richest man in Prism City.

"I'll ask again," Mr. Hawthorne said, straining to maintain his calm, friendly demeanor underneath the indignation that everyone could clearly see. "Where is Valerie Vaughn?"

"We already told you, sir." Yun-hee knew that Gibson was maybe the angriest out of all of them. None of them liked Mr. Hawthorne even before he'd forced them to submit to his control, but Gibson always hated the man. "We don't know."

"Then tell me where she could be. Think! Who are her friends, where does she spend her time? Who would she turn to if she's running scared?"

As if to answer his question, the PA system squawked to life. "Incoming call from: Raymond. Hawthorne."

Mr. Hawthorne blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Would you like me to accept the call?" the synthetic voice said.

He looked around the room, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah. Patch 'em through."

Click. "Hello, Raymond."

Mr. Hawthorne groaned. He knew that voice; it hadn't left his head in days. "Madame Blanc. How nice of you to call."

"Well, I happened to run into an old friend, and they told me a very peculiar story. Would you like to say hello, sweetie?"

Another voice spoke up, breathy and dazed-sounding. "Mr. Hawthorne..."

The entire room went still.

"Val?" Mr. Hawthorne said, his expression shifting in a matter of moments from confusion to horror to rage. "What the hell did you do to her, Blanc?"

Blanc scoffed. "All I've done is fix the mess you made! Honestly, Raymond, if you're going to call yourself a mind controller, you need to stop being so sloppy. You give people like me a bad name."

"Damn you!" Mr. Hawthorne bellowed, his face turning red. "I swear to God, I'll break you for what you've done to me!"

"I'd like to see you try," Blanc said, her smug superiority palpable even just through her voice. "In fact, you surely have the whole team under your thumb by now, don't you? I'm in the mood for a good challenge, and more to the point, I'd love to see this ridiculous place you call an apartment get demolished."

"You're in my home?!"

Blanc paused. "Is that what you're calling it? Bitch, you live like this?"

Brayden snorted.

"Fuck you!" Raymond shouted.

"A generous offer," Blanc replied, "but I'm afraid if you want me, you're going to have to come and get me. I'll be waiting."

* * *

Madame hung up the phone and smiled. "Oh, he's such a baby."

Val chuckled and laid her head on Madame's shoulder. "I've honestly seen babies with more self-control."

"Are you sure about this?" Madame said as she gently stroked Val's hair. "We can still bail and run off."

"I'm not gonna abandon my friends. This isn't over until everyone's fixed."

"And you are fixed?"

Val thought for a moment. "I'm fixed enough to come up with this plan. And fixed enough to do this." She kissed Madame gently on the neck, grinning as she pulled away. "That good enough for you?"

"Mmm..." Madame purred. "How long did you say it would take them to get here?"

"Without me? Probably about 15 minutes. Why?"

Madame grinned. She whispered something, and Val felt her mind take a moment to catch up. And when it did, her eyes slipped shut and she sank once more into the depths. It was like pulling her favorite blanket out of the dryer and snuggling up in it, her body surrounded by a familiar warmth and comfort.

Snap! "Oh yes," Madame said, looking like a child on Christmas morning, "I do believe you're back to your old self."

Val blinked, gasping as she realized what had just happened. "They work!"

"Indeed they do. I'd test the titslave one out, but I'm afraid we just don't have the time for that right now."

"Aw." Val pouted, then burst out into giggles.

"Okay," Patti said as she re-entered the room, blinking and adjusting to the contacts, "Val, your turn..." She paused, slowly cracking a smile. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Just breaking her in," Madame replied. "Val, need any help with the contacts?"

"I got it," Val sighed, a little disappointed to have to leave Madame so soon after being brought back to normal.

She got up off Madame's lap and headed down the hall, but Patti stopped her. "So, this is gonna work, right?"

"Raymond's too smart to come after Madame himself," Val explained. "He's gonna send the team here to 'collect' us. And when they get here, I warp us back to the tower, we find Raymond, and flash him."

"Ew, I'm not showing him my tits!"

Val rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Patti giggled and plopped onto the couch. "Yeah, but it's funner to pretend I don't!"

"Patricia," Madame sighed, rubbing her temple, "I would appreciate it if you took this a little more seriously."

"Gimmie a break, Weiss, I'm still new to this superhero shit."

Val walked to the bathroom while Madame and Patti talked in the living room. She popped open the box and held her eyelids open, carefully placing the contact lenses onto her eyes and moving them into position. When she was done she examined her reflection in the mirror. The contacts made her irises almost the same color as her sclera, the black of the iris standing out like a beacon in a sea of white.

She took a deep breath. "This is gonna work."