Lately, every time Kaz fell asleep he woke up exhausted. A side effect of the mutant flu, no doubt. His body ached, his head pounded, and his stomach churned. He almost couldn’t remember what it was like to wake up well rested with a clear head. Part of him wondered why he hadn’t actually appreciated those things when he’d had them.
When he collapsed onto his bed around six p.m. (ridiculously early, but this flu was kicking his ass), he didn’t expect to wake up with any semblance of rest or healing achieved. To do so would just be giving himself false hope, setting himself up to fail. So, needless to say, when he swam back to consciousness, the first thing he realized was that his head didn’t hurt.
Before he’d even opened his eyes, he catalogued his body. Everything that had been aching the day before was suddenly pain free. Limbs which had been too heavy to lift when he’d fallen into his bed were now weightless, his stomach felt more settled and calm than it had been in days, and the sharp pain behind his eyes was gone completely. He felt as if he’d slept, really slept, for the first time in weeks.
Was it really that easy? A decent night’s sleep and the mutant flu was gone? Kaz knew when something was too good to be true. He desperately wanted for this to be real, desperately wanted to believe that he was suddenly healed, but he knew it wasn’t likely. It was a dream, maybe. He hoped he wasn’t dead. He didn’t have any idea what the afterlife might look like, but he wasn’t really ready to see it quite yet. He was pretty sure Ginny would kick his ass if he died. He was pretty sure he’d promised not to do that.
Kaz was afraid to open his eyes. He was afraid of what he might see. If there was a white light around him, he was going back to sleep. Dying was not on his agenda, no matter how great it felt to lie on his bed pain-free.
After a moment’s consideration, he cracked an eye open. No white light, which was a relief, but something was definitely off. He opened his other eye and sat up quickly, almost giddy when the motion didn’t make his head swim.
This was not his room. His posters weren’t on the wall, there wasn’t a dent beside the door where he’d banged his elbow especially hard when he’d come home drunk one night, his unfinished homework wasn’t laid out on the desk, his uniform wasn’t in a pile on the floor. He had no idea where he was. This wasn’t even his bed – he should have realized it sooner. This bed was far larger than his, the sheets more colorful.
Kaz’s heart pounded in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was going on? His mind jumped to Hydra, to the Brotherhood, to anyone who might benefit from seeing him away from his room. But it didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t a threat to anyone right now, wasn’t going to hurt anybody when he couldn’t move. And whoever’d brought him here had healed him, somehow. Not exactly something you do for an enemy. But who would heal him in his sleep, cured him when he wasn’t aware of it? It didn’t make sense, and it was really starting to freak him out.
He scrambled out of bed, looking around the room. Whoever lived here had expensive tastes. There was a phone charging on the bedside table, and he snatched it up. It wasn’t his – it was far nicer than the one he owned, far more expensive. What the hell was going on?
He glanced down at his body, wondering if whoever had taken him from his room had changed his clothes… and stopped.
Now that didn’t make any sense.
When Kaz fell asleep, he was fairly certain he hadn’t looked like that. And unless another side effect of the mutant flu was a spontaneous gender change, there was something else at play here. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Uncertainly, he made his way to the mirror and took a good look at his reflection. This definitely wasn’t him. But the person staring back at him from inside the glass did look familiar. He’d seen her picture on the internet, on the news. Most recently, her name had been associated with the spread of the flu that was currently (or not?) rendering him useless.
Frantically, he wondered what this meant. Did this mean she was in his body, in the mansion? If she was really behind the flu, should he be concerned about what she may do to the his housemates. And if she was in his body, was she sick now?
Either way, he needed to find out.
He hurriedly changed out of the pajamas he was wearing, grabbing a t-shirt and jeans from Lucille’s closet. It felt wrong, like he was stealing. He tried not to think about it and rushed out of the bedroom, her phone in the pocket of the jeans and a pair of car keys in his hand.
He found that the room he was in was part of a spacious condo, something that would probably cost a fortune even if it wasn’t in New York. He exited it and went to the parking garage. The keys he’d snatched from the bedroom fit into a car parked in a spot that coincided with the number he’d seen on the condo door.
It took him a moment to figure out what part of the city he was in, but he’d lived in New York for nearly half his life. It wasn’t hard to make it to a familiar street, and from there getting back to the mansion was easy. Getting into the mansion might be another story.
Nobody there would recognize Lucille Brass, and the CEO of a successful company would have no reason to visit a broke college student working at a local bar.
Miraculously, no one was around, and he realized they were probably in class. He slipped through the front door as quietly as he could and made his way to his room, praying that Lucille was there and that she’d have some idea of what the hell was going on. He couldn’t exactly say he missed being too sick to move, but being in someone else’s body was freaky as hell.
Wow, I got my first “negative” review on one of my fanfictions and they couldn’t even bother spelling anything right. Maybe I should feel a little bad, but I just can’t. Since I can’t reply to you on ff.net, I’ll do it here.
This is a dyson and bo romance page so stop with the fucking Lauren and bo crap they do not belong together and all so stop with the tasaman and bo crap dyso mated with bo the first season and bo all so knows dyson is alive because of there love for each other
First of all, not everything on the Dyson and Bo page is romance, believe me, I’ve checked. There are some pretty amazing ones there too, if I might add, but not all of them are romance.
Secondly, who’s to say that Lauren and Bo belong together? As far as I know, they’ve been in a very serious relationship for a decent stretch of time, but nobody knows if they’re endgame or not. In my fanfiction, they are currently together, yes. It’s even stated in the summary for your lovely eyes to read. As for “tasaman” and Bo, it has never once been stated that they have been or ever will be fucking in my fanfiction. Thanks for the idea, lovely Guest, but Bo is currently taken. Maybe next time?
And finally, I know that Dyson mated with Bo. Multiple times, as a matter of fact. They worked quite well together, I’m not denying that. I assume your last sentence refers to the season finale, because it is painfully obvious that Dyson is currently living and breathing in this crossover.
Just to clear everything up here, when someone posts a fanfiction, or any kind of writing up on the internet, it invites criticism and yes, even negativity. It also takes a huge amount of courage and bravery to to this. We write for innumerable reasons and we try our best to make sure that things go in the proper places, but that’s the thing, Guest. Our fanfiction writing is our own personal place where we get to change things from our favorite fandoms and make them our own. So here’s the basic idea: If you don’t like the idea that’s being put out there, don’t read it!
Nobody has time to deal with this shit. Except for me, apparently…