Tim's fork paused just outside of his mouth. "Years?" he repeated.

"Not sure?" she said, now leaning her forehead on her fingers. "I've been here for a long time though."

"How many times have you fought?" he asked next, finally taking a bite of the pasta thing but not particularly tasting it as his thoughts roiled.

"A few hundred. Maybe." She frowned. "There were a lot of them back-to-back and I sort of got bored and stopped keeping track."

Hundred? Tim stared.

"Hey, that rhymed," she said, brightening a little.

He dug into his food again, but he could barely taste whatever eightish-out-of-ten pasta he was eating. So she's been fighting here already for years, but it's been only a few hours for me? What the fuck's going on here? Emma seemed like she was on the same time as me. No idea where Ir'alith is. Shit, this is getting really weird.

"It's been a while since I've had anyone to talk to," Scipio continued. "We're not friends, but it's good to see you again, Storm." She grinned. "You wanna fi—"

Then she disappeared.

Tim stared for a short while, then looked around for a longer while. Shit, shit, shit, this is getting really fucking weird now. Are we all on different timelines or something? Did she get summoned to fight? Should I go look for her, or… After agonizing over it for a minute, he returned to eating. I imagine if she was still here she'd come see me. If I panic and die in my next fight because I'm distracted, that won't help anyone.

How many rounds are there in this thing anyway?

He powered through his food as fast as he could, washing it down with plenty of water before he headed back to his quarters. The stairwell and hallway were now a quiet that was creepy rather than calm, and he felt his pulse racing as he neared the door to his room. His shower this time was quick and functional rather than relaxed, and then he was back in his bed, finding, to his extreme discomfort, that it still smelled of Emma's perfume.

Nonetheless, Tim had a lot of practice at falling asleep in stressful situations, and he drifted off soon after.

----------------------------------------

"Hey, squirt."

Tim bolted upright, his heart hammering as he swept his gaze over his bedroom.

"Oh, that's where it's gone," Emma said. She walked by the bottom of his bed and reached down in the same blue dress she'd been wearing, retrieving her red dress from the floor.

"Wow, I bet you'll look hot in that," said the same voice as before.

Tim swallowed. "What… What are you doing here?" he asked.

Zack leaned down and swept Emma into a kiss, and she giggled, then moaned after a moment. "Just pinch hitting for my little bro," he said with the same lazy smile as always when he came up for air.

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Emma bit her lip and pressed herself against the towering giant. "Zack, please, please fuck me again before your next battle," she begged in a breathy voice. "I need to feel once more, and you're the only one with whom I've any capacity for it. I'll do anything."

"Yeah, okay," Zack said, patting her affectionately on the head. "Why don't you go back to your room and get ready. I'll be over in a minute."

She hooked her hands behind his neck and dragged him down for another kiss. "I love you," she whispered as she looked up at him, just before she scurried away, taking her dress off as she went.

"She's cute," Zack said. "I mean, she's probably the best you can do, and she's not bad considering. You remember Phoebe though?" He tipped his head back and blew out a breath with his eyes closed. "She was hot."

"What are you doing here, Zack?" Tim asked. "Didn't you—"

"Well, you know how it is," his brother said, flashing a perfect smile with gleaming white teeth. "You're always trying to catch up to me, but we both know that's never going to happen." He brought a foot up and perched on the edge of the bed, leaning in on his knee. "You tried hard in school, but did anyone even notice you after I'd already aced all my classes? You played football, but I was already setting national records on the field before you hit puberty." He rolled his eyes. "College? Please, I had full ride offers from everywhere that wouldn't accept you."

"Stop it," Tim said.

"Timmy, make me," Zack taunted. "What are you, some shitty CFO now? That's the best you could do?"

Tim glared. "Stop it," he said again.

"Zack, hurry!" Emma's voice called out.

Zack glanced over his shoulder with a faint smile. "You know," he said when he looked back, "she actually reminds me a little of…" He waved his finger in the air as his brow creased. "Who was that girl you hooked up with that time you got a little drunk at Carl's party? Fifteen or so years ago? You remember, it was the same time you gave him the wrong drink and broke his sober streak?" He grinned. "Oh, right, her name was Becca, wasn't it? Sweet, sexy, eighteen year-old Becca."

"I didn't know," Tim said, shaking his head. "I didn't know it was the wrong drink, and I didn't know sh—"

"Didn't you?" Zack said. "Didn't you want the old Carl back? The fun Carl? And didn't you know she was his wife's little sister?"

"No!" Tim shouted. He lunged forward, but Zack caught him easily and wrapped an arm loosely around his neck and brought him to the ground.

"And that was before you and your wife came to your little understanding, wasn't it?" Zack continued. "How long's it been since the two of you had sex anyway? Sure, maybe I never banged Carl's hot sister-in-law, but Nicole's always begging for it anyway. We have a normal marriage. That's why we have three kids instead of one. And even before that, I've probably fucked at least half the same girls you have, even in your little game. They're probably just wishing you were me. I bet—"

"STOP IT!" Tim shouted, but he couldn't break the impossibly strong grip his older brother had on him.

"Face it, Timmy," said Zack. "I'll always be better. No matter how high or how fast you climb, I'll still be there waiting when you get to the top."

"DRAKE STORM, YOUR LIFE IS A FAILURE."

Tim gasped and clawed his way awake, continuing to suck in panicked gulps of air for some time with every muscle in his body tensed. "Fuck," he said as he settled back onto his pillow, raising a hand to rub at the inside corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath, then a second. I forgot what it's like without the meds.

He continued to lay there, focusing entirely on anchoring himself in the now with his eyes closed. He felt the subtle coolness of the pillow under his head. He felt the soft, weighty sheet on top of him. He smelled the faint trace of perfume that somehow still lingered.

He relaxed.

The timer he'd set went off.

"Drake Storm, are you prepared to claim victory in my name once more?" asked the voice of a god.