Chapter 20Corrected yet Incorrigible27 February 2022She’s never felt so loved before, and never felt so undeserving either.

  Fey’s arms are wrapped around her, Vivi’s hands are embracing hers, Amy is watching her with a level of concern and terror that Gwen’s scarcely seen before, her attention equally split between the girl they’d just made try to defuse a ticking time bomb and the explosive’s own sponsor.

  Lulu is sitting down on the floor, her head in her hands, trembling slightly and sobbing much more loudly. The cause is obvious, and the result quite predictable. She knows exactly what Alice thinks of her now and wishes she didn’t.

  It’s not like Gwen has to tell the others what happened. She wouldn’t be able to if she tried. Luckily Kelynen had made sure to set her up with a recording device, and the group had listened to the conversation with Alice whilst she tried to restore a modicum of her dignity in the bathroom.

  None of them had dared comment yet, opinions left obvious through the support they have been offering each other and which Gwen has greedily indulged in. It’s a pity party of imperfect people having to deal with the consequences of their own actions, and it doesn’t seem anyone — herself included — is currently able to have too much sympathy for Alice’s position. They’re all distracted with more immediate and willing subjects of their empathy anyhow.

  Alice needs it. More than anyone in the room, possibly. But Gwen tried and all that happened is that she got hurt in ways she can’t even describe, forced to dig up thoughts she’s been trying to smother under a bnket of pretend-ignorance.

  Despite how badly she’s hurting, Gwen isn’t able to forgive her own actions either. She yelled at someone who was so obviously hurt and feeling betrayed, threatening to leave her in her self-imposed isotion unless she did what others wanted. Gwen used that possibility like she didn’t know what being stuck in a pce with people she perceives as threats feels like — like it isn’t a feeling she knows so viscerally that the very person she has become was created under that pressure.

  Alice is more right than she is wrong. Dorley Hall isn’t a bastion of morality. Neither is anyone in this room, all five of them having seriously hurt people at some point in their lives. Each of them has a selfish reason to think they are above what they used to do — or, in Gwen’s case, that she’s very much working on it — and that they are due forgiveness in the eyes of at least those closest to them.

  Most people, if made aware of all that they have done, would reject them outright. Gwen can’t help but feel like most people aren’t worth her time — she wasn’t worth their time.

  They looked away when it was obvious that she was hurting, unwilling to believe that her father — a doctor! — would ever do the things Gwen accused him of in her most vulnerable moments, when she felt she might be able to trust someone. It took just one look at her medical history to throw out any reports she’d made: Histrionic Personality Disorder. She would apparently act up for attention — whatever attention she can get, including making such obviously snderous accusations against someone so respected in the community.

  Her father’s testimony had been critical in ensuring she was diagnosed as such. She didn’t even like attention much: nothing good tended to come from it. Parental attention left her vioted, medical attention left her distrusted, romantic attention only made her hurt people, legal attention had ruined her life, unwilling to give such an obviously dangerous trans woman the benefit of the doubt.

  Bitterly, she wonders if Alice would have cared about her.

  Whether she would have spoken up for her. Whether she could look past Gwen’s actions, like Fey had, and be willing to give her a second chance at a life she never even got to begin. She hates the conclusion that Alice would be more likely to be amongst those who were all too happy to see her lose everything, be expelled from university, lose her job and face prosecution. She scolded her for a joke, she would not forgive her for that stupid, drunk kiss, that instinct Gwen had developed to solve conflict by leaning into the sexual. It’s what her father wanted when he shamed her for wanting to be a girl. Clearly her date hadn’t wanted it, though.

  Fey must have noticed she’s deep in her painful thoughts again, because she’s tightened her embrace. Vivi started whispering into her ear again, promising that she won’t let anyone hurt her anymore.

  She’s safe now.

  ***

  The job of talking to Eira about the day’s events has squarely fallen on her shoulders. It’s not entirely unsurprising — Loonie is a wreck and needs rest more than anything else. The woman bmes herself for everything: fucking up a rushed, ill-considered disclosure for one, but also for not building up the bond of trust with Alice that they’d needed to have for it to work in the first pce.

  It’s a story Amy knows all too well. When she had been silent around Kelynen — in her rejection of the conditions she’d have to follow if she were to speak — the woman would also get too deeply into all kinds of stories, rambling on about all sorts of things in an attempt to avoid gaps in the conversation. It got worse when discussions made her uncomfortable— in those cases she would make things entirely too personal, using her intakes as her personal therapists.

  Seeking comfort in the people who were closest to her, even if they were the causes of the discomfort in the first pce.

  Amy not obeying her; Alice’s continued self-destructive tendencies.

  There has been some improvement on the former, though mostly in that she now disobeys with a pyful grin, in the mutual understanding that it’s more py than a serious case of insubordination. Amy always gets around to doing her work in the end: sometimes she is in the mood to do so immediately, and sometimes her sponsor has to notice that explicit orders will just dey the inevitable, because suddenly her intake holds on to her autonomy rather strongly.

  They both know why Amy acts in one way or another, and the understanding has gone from causing frustration and rather intense discomfort to causing the odd giggle. The realisation that it indeed was a sexual thing that caused it left Loonie unable to put up with her for weeks, terrified she was hurting her, threatening to resign and leave Amy to someone who could handle her without being repulsed by the ways even the most normal things would be interpreted.

  Now, she’s threatening to resign again, the feeling that she’s only hurting her intake returning as Alice draws horrible conclusions about someone Amy couldn’t even imagine hurting someone in such a way.

  She must get prepared for her meeting with Eira, though.

  It’s not as simple as talking to other people in the manor would be: their retionship is formed by the decisions of the past more than others. There are rules, regutions, protocols to follow. For one, she’ll have to actually switch back into her uniform. She had showered earlier and pyed some games in her pajamas before being pulled into Faith’s bedroom to help comfort Loonie, but it’s not the way Eira should see her unless she wants to deal with some very specific implications. Their entire dynamic is weighed down by implications, reformuted over the years into careful choreography.

  Eira, more than Loonie, is the woman who broke her. She made sure she would comply with the programme they enforced on her, and would do so not just out of necessity but with the full conviction it required. She showed her how women could leverage power in terrifying ways and how enticing it could be to be one of those women. But with Eira, she had learned she preferred to be at her mercy, to work for her pleasure without the expectation of it being returned. To have something special. To give her the permission to disobey others, so her complete obedience to Eira and Eira alone would continue to stand out.

  That’s how Amy pitched it, anyhow.

  The head sponsor wasn’t sure what to do with her for the longest time, but she’d seen Amy’s search history, and particurly the kind of things she’d read and fantasised about before ending up at the manor, and decided to give it a chance knowing it was a genuine, pre-existing preference of a very much hypersexual girl.

  Partially because she’d also always wanted something like it — but mostly because she really liked the idea of being able to tell Elle that no, she can’t have any fun with Amy, and both women would have to comply with that order. Amy because Eira had said it— Elle because she isn’t one of Amy’s three approved intimate retionships and thus needs the head sponsor’s permission.

  The ADHD medication hasn’t seemed to stop her mind from wandering. She enjoys thinking about their dynamic too much. It makes her feel lucky. Maybe not lucky that she missed out on the tens of millions she could have inherited, but lucky she could become a better person. Lucky to be able to convince the people above her that she could help give the same to others in need.

  That’s who she needs to focus on right now. Her top priority: Loonie. Amy abstractly hates that Alice isn’t her top priority right now, but it makes sense — she’s safe and secure sulking in a cell, whilst her sponsor has all the ability to genuinely leave them if she wanted to. It won’t be hard to convince Eira to not let her go: but she might need a break, or something.

  Alice, meanwhile, is a harder nut to crack — or snip — and might need more active intervention from a head sponsor who is more capable of extracting the desired behaviour from her girls than everyone else in the manor.

  Also important: Gwen deserves a bonus or something. Maybe a partner who can actually py with them in the sadomasochistic ways she wants, even if just for a night. Faith is the cutest, but she’s always been terribly vanil about that stuff. She’s done more for them than they ever could or should have asked her to.

  Amy adjusts her uniform slightly to make sure it’s perfect and knocks on Eira’s door. She doesn’t enter until she’s acknowledged, taking position near the door with her back straight and her left hand over her right wrist. She gazes at the floor, aware of the fact that she is intruding, and that Eira would be busy reading through the weekly reports about all six of the girls in the programme that were filed by 12am today.

  She’s suddenly very aware that she, too, would have a report filed about her. It’s hard not to wonder about what could be in there— but she’d never be allowed to see. They still have goals for her that she needs to meet, though they’re vague and more personality-based: ones she wouldn’t be told about, not explicitly.

  “What brings you here, Amy, darling?” Eira asks after a few minutes.

  “They made me a messenger girl again, ma’am.” She says with a smile, happy to be able to talk to Eira. “I assume you’ve heard Alice’s disclosure went badly.”

  The head sponsor nods, an indication she’d prefer Amy to continue for now.

  “Loonie had decided it would be best if she would have someone trusted sent down to make sure she would be fine, and maybe convince her that the people here are in fact not so bad. but Alice held onto her morals quite firmly, as I’d expected. She’s a good girl, perhaps too good for everything that goes on here and at the Hall, but she turned that into the belief that her sponsor is a murderer and turned it into a weapon against Gwen, shaming her for wanting to be close to anyone involved with Dorley Hall. Kelynen wants to resign, Gwen got seriously triggered due to her past, we’re all kind of lost on how to continue— some assistance may be required, ma’am.” Amy finishes, slightly shifting to fix her posture.

  Eira frowns. “You know how discouraged it is to get someone as vulnerable as Gwen involved in something like this.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.” Amy mumbles. She can’t help but notice the fact Eira immediately focused on an entirely different part of the mess they’d created than Amy had. “She’s with Faith and Vivi right now, in Faith’s bedroom. I think they’re still trying to comfort her. She’d whispered something to herself about how ‘Alice should hate her’.”

  Eira sighs and walks over to the cabinet in the corner to pick out some hard liquor for the night. “I’m used to bloody messes, having worked at Dorley Hall, but I didn’t think we had enough people here to manage to reach anything above a six.”

  Amy doesn’t respond for a moment, letting the silence linger so both of them have a moment to think.

  “I want to talk to Gwen tomorrow.” Eira decides. “To thank her. I don’t think I would be much good at offering comfort, but I’ll make sure that she’ll be alright.”

  “I will make sure she knows, ma’am.” She’ll add it to her schedule tomorrow.

  “And Vivienne, to tell her how stupid that all was.” She adds.

  “Kelynen asked Gwen directly. Vivi was thrown into the aftermath just as much as Faith or I.”

  Eira shakes her head but doesn’t say much. Amy decides to interpret that as her not having to call Vivi for a meeting tomorrow.

  Another pause.

  “Is Lulu okay?” Eira asks with nothing but sympathy in her tone.

  “I made sure she’s in bed. I doubt she’s sleeping well, though— my pn was to check up on her after seeing you.” Chances are she’ll spend the night with her in a comforting embrace.

  “I’m not going to allow her to resign. You could have guessed that. I want to tell her that personally, though.” Eira takes a sip from her whiskey, pondering. “What to do about Alice…”

  She recognises the invitation to give her actual input rather than just report information to her, at least on this specific topic.

  Amy thinks about it for a moment.

  “I might have to be fully honest with her about my past, ma’am. I’ve given her a censored version already, softening the blow by not telling her just how bad it really was. But if she could be able to forgive someone here, it’d be me. Once the precedent exists, it’ll be easier for her to extend it to others— my actions aren’t much better than anything a Dorley girl would have done. As for the washout issue… I don’t know. Maybe she’ll start to forgive people and then see that Loonie is more wound up about it than she could ever be herself. Maybe she’ll see how much she’s hurt people — She’ll feel really guilty about it at first, but it might be… a learning moment. A breakthrough. Whatever you’d call it when an intake wants to actually improve as a person.”

  “And what if she doesn’t forgive you?” Eira asks.

  “Then you could back me up by reminding her just how thoroughly I’ve been… rehabilitated.” The word punished lingered on her tongue, some remaining bitterness not quite having left her. “Maybe read from my file if you wish, ma’am. It won’t be easy, but…”

  She drifts off, unsure what to say. Her only experience with disclosing someone who wasn’t explicitly involved in Dorley or the manor so far was Gwen, and the girl took it especially easily. Maybe it’d left them overconfident.

  “Is that really what you want?” Eira asks.

  “No… ma’am.” Amy responds, almost forgetting the honorific. “But I’ll have to. I suggested we include her in the programme, I’m also somewhat responsible for her making it through it.”

  “Always so self-sacrificing.” Eira frowns and takes her hand. “Incorrigible.”

  “Frustrated you couldn’t change that about me?” Amy asks, pyfully.

  “No. Just that you keep trying to hurt yourself doing it.”

  “It wouldn’t be a sacrifice if it didn’t hurt.”