“I’m dying.” Eli didn’t raise his voice. He shouldn’t need to.

“I’m not going to make it there in time.” The feminine voice resounding from his stereo system sounded apologetic. “Run away.”

“I can’t. I’m slowed.” Frost venom didn’t just slow, it periodically rooted in place.  “There goes my last defensive.”

“Ok,” Lara said. “I see you. Just a few more seconds.”

“Hurry!” He pounded the number three on the remote, as if applying more pressure at a higher frequency would make his cooldowns available. “Fuck! I’m dead.”

“Sorry!” She began the incantation for a resurrection spell.

“It’s not your fault.” He exhaled, forcing himself to relax. “If I hadn’t let you die, I’d still be alive right now. Didn’t mean to yell.”

“You do seem a bit tense today. Something happen?”

“My sister’s been on my case all morning,” he said. “She’s driving me nuts.”

“Was that her a minute ago? She sounded really...loud.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. You should hear when she takes the roof...I mean when she raises the roof with her voice.” Almost blew it. He’d been playing Sublime Conquest for a couple of days now. No one knew he was a premie and he intended to keep it that way.

“Is she older than you?”

“No but she acts like it.” He glanced at the shadow moving past the part in his curtains. “Great, she’s back. Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure,” Lara said. “I’ll keep watch.”

He muted the microphone, and not a moment too soon. The roof lifted and Ally’s no-nonsense face filled sky.

“Alright, an hour’s up,” she said, bringing her hand into view. “Let’s go.”

“Hands off! Mom said you can’t pick me up without my permission unless it’s a safety thing. Same goes for binding.”

Her hand paused in the air like a falcon denied it’s prey. “You’ve been holed up in here for two days, so it is a ‘safety thing’. You need regular exercise. It’s part of our training to ensure you get it.”

“That’s bullshit. And you know it too. I’m not going to die from playing video games.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her hand didn’t budge. He was right and she knew it.

“Eli, you’re going to get some exercise, or I’m going to turn off your television.”

“What the fuck, Ally! First y’all send me to some insane therapist for leaving my apartment. I finally find something slightly fun to do inside the apartment and now it’s not good enough.”

“You know that’s a lie. You can leave your apartment whenever we’re around. We invited you to the pool yesterday, and you hurt Winter’s feelings by choosing to stay inside and play that silly game.”

“She’ll get over it,” he said, batting away a strand of her dark hair dangling from above.

Ally rolled her eyes, then focused on him, inching her hand forward. “You know what I think? I think you just need a good binding — “

“No!” He pulled a cushion from the couch to use as a shield. “Fuck no!” Giant fingers plucked the cushion from him and tossed it aside, then lowered closer. “Ok! Ok! Fuck. Just give me a second to get off the game.”

“Fine.” She withdrew the monstrous red-nailed appendage. “You have two minutes. Oh and you’re up to five curse words for the day. Three more and I’ll have to discipline you. Your language has gotten out of control. Especially around Winter.”

He enabled the microphone. “Hey Lara. Sorry, I have to go. The b-i-t-c-h is back and she’s having a meltdown.”

“That counts for two,” Ally said. “One more and it’s discipline time.”

“Oh. Ok,” Lara said. “I’ll see you later then. Tell your sister I said hi.”

“Later.” He turned off the game and the television, then faced his oppressor. “Ok, what does your precious training say I need to do? Jumping jacks? Situps? How about running laps around the house. Oh that’s right. It’s a fall hazard, so I can’t.”

“You can blame me all you want for what happened at the therapist, but it’s not going to change anything. You’re still going to exercise for thirty minutes.”

“So tell me what to do already!”

She didn’t even flinch. “First I’m going to put you on the floor, so either hop on or I’ll pick you up.” She lowered her hand into the living room, fingers angled like a J.

He took a deep breath and stepped onto her fingers, closing his eyes and holding onto her thumb. After a moment of tilting and near vertigo, he heard her voice. “Ok, hop off.”

He opened his eyes and surveyed the surroundings. Although he’d lived here for several days now, he hadn’t once stood on the bedroom floor. Curious, he stepped onto the carpet. His feet sank as if into six ‘inches’ of snow. In spite of its texture, it was cool, as was the surrounding air. He’d never admit it, but he actually liked his apartment better.

He crossed his arms, suppressing a shiver.

“You’ll be fine once you start moving.” Her hand pointed to areas nearby. “You’re job is to clean up this mess. Bring all the clothes and stuff into a central pile at the flag.” She pointed to a toy blue flag in the distance.

“What!?” He spun around slowly, analyzing the debris. Socks, shoes, papers, toys, and things he couldn’t even identify. “That’s ridiculous. This stuff is huge.”

“That’s why it’s called exercise. If you can’t move something, just leave it. Carry or drag whatever you can. No cheating though. I can easily find out what each item weighs.”

“I’m not touching your socks. I’m certainly not touching your...underwear. That’s disgusting.”

“We clean up after you a few times every week. That includes your dirty water. You don’t hear us complaining.”

“Not doing it!” He gave her the sternest look he could muster.

“Fine.” Her eyes shifted to the side and her hand rose to the bedspread. Suddenly, a few pencils and some paper fell to the floor. She smirked, eyes sparkling. “Oops.

“You b — “

“Ah ah ah.” She motioned, a mock grab with her hand. “Now get to work. One neat pile. I’ll return in half an hour and if it’s not to my liking, I’ll be forced to bind you. Which, by the way, you should be asking for. You’d enjoy this exercise a lot more if you did.”

“Ain’t gonna happen. As long as I do this stupid exercise, you can’t bind me and you know it.”

“Suit yourself.” She rose, taking a volume of surrounding air with her. He looked to the floor, still unable to grasp the enormity of her presence. As she walked away, her socked feet thrummed the surrounding area with a deep trembling.

As soon as she’d departed, he got to work, targeting the smaller items as she would certainly cite him for leaving those behind. He pulled a sheet of paper in each hand, dragging them behind his body like enormous tarps, then slid them on top of each other beside the flag. He repeated the process until all of the paper in the room had been gathered in a single pile.

Thankfully, the effort helped keep him warm. It wasn’t so bad, really, half an hour of exercise a day. He gave her more shit for it than she deserved, but at least it would keep her from increasing the requirement. Hopefully.

He moved on to the heavier items: the coins and clothing. Both required him to treck under the beds. He didn’t need to duck or anything, but he worried about what he’d encounter. They’d fumigated the house a few weeks ago, but the thought of running into a spider made his blood run cold.

He carried the pennies, even though they must’ve weighed forty pounds each. As for the quarters, he thankfully didn’t encounter many. For those he did, he rolled them to their destination. The more speed he used, the less they would tilt or wobble, making his job easier.

The clothing was a pain in the ass. Most clothing weighed more than a quarter. Some weighed more than he did. He dragged the socks first, the thin ones, the ones Winter wore to special occasions and not much else. They didn’t smell as they were covered in dust, but he didn’t exactly put his nose to the fabric either.

He did find a couple panties, and in spite of his earlier tirade, he decided to gather them as well. He wouldn’t give Ally, nor anyone else for that matter, any reason to bind him ever again. Besides, he was working up a sweat and the movement (though he’d never admit it to Ally) was starting to feel good.

Surprisingly, the undergarments were quite heavy. He hauled them across the floor, one at a time, stopping a few times to catch his breath. They, like the socks, had been discarded a while back so no unpleasant smells (thank god), but they were cotton, not silk. So the friction created as they pulled across the floor almost made him call it quits.

He didn’t quit though. Instead he ‘stacked’ the fabric as much as possible, on top of the socks and near the flag. His pile was really becoming quite impressive, if he did say so himself.

Unfortunately, only heavy things remained. He made an attempt at a pair of denim shorts, but they wouldn’t budge. He checked the pockets. Empty. No way to reduce the weight. He’d have to skip them.

He gathered a few dust balls. Through gross and tangled with dirty blond hair, he could carry them easily and did so, placing them in his trash pile near the papers.

Finally, he made his way to the writing implements, the ones Ally had intentionally spilled on the floor before her exit. By this time, he’d worked up a sweat, drenching his cotton sports suit, but he really wanted to finish the job. Somehow, this task had become personal. Aside from getting exercise, he was proving himself useful, and that meant more to him than he could explain. Plus it kept his mind off the therapy session...and off Parker (he hadn’t responded to her texts and calls, and he wasn’t sure if he would anytime soon).

He hefted the eraser end of a pencil. Holy shit. It weighed a ton. Sure, he could lift the end, but certainly not the entire thing at once. He heaved backward, throwing all of his weight into it, and it barely moved. But it had moved! Just a little.

“I’m impressed,” Ally said, her voice coming from above.

He looked up to find both Ally and Winter perched atop the bed nearest the door, flat on their stomachs, staring down at him. Winter, of course, grinned from ear to ear. If he’d upset her by refusing to go to the pool, it didn’t show. And Ally had her phone pointed at him, likely recording, and who knew how much she’d witnessed.

“You realize you’ve been at it for an hour now, and I admit, you did a pretty good job,” Ally said.

“How”—he struggled to catch his breath—“how long have you been watching?”

“For like the last thirty minutes,” Winter said. “We thought you heard the bed squeak, but you just kept right on going.”

Surprisingly, he couldn't remember hearing them approach. “Well, I’m almost done. And you can forget about those shorts and shirts. They’re way too heavy. Pick them up yourself.”

Ally smiled, sitting up on the bed and swinging her legs over the edge. “You did well. Want a ride back to your apartment?”

“Sure when I’m done with these pencils,” he said.

She squinted. “I think they’re a bit much for you. They’re my fault anyway.”

“They’re pencils.” He maneuvered so that the pencil rested on his back, over his shoulder. His arms gripped it like a Santa bag. “They’re not too much. Come back in thirty minutes and I’ll be done.”

He trudged forward, one leg in front of the other, pulling the yellow log behind him. It strained every muscle in his body, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to give in to a pencil.

“Have it your way.” She stood and turned toward the door. “Winter, keep an eye on him. When he collapses, which he probably will, put him back in the apartment. But don’t help him. You’d only be injuring his silly pride.”

“Just leave already.” Eli mumbled as his front foot buried into the carpet, inching him forward.

“Oh, and he only has one more strike on the language limit.” Ally left the room. Finally.

Winter hopped down, knees thudding to the floor behind him. “Want help? I won’t tell Ally.”

“No.” One leg in front of the other. Pull. “I don’t want.” One leg in front of the other. Pull. “Help.”

“I’ve got a surprise for when you finish.” She thumped around behind him, likely sitting down.

He ignored the disturbance and continued tugging. The situation would’ve seemed odd had his exhaustion not overtaken his brain. A pencil, a mere writing implement of his childhood, requiring a sisyphean feat of endurance to move a few human feet away.

By the time he finished with the first one and headed back for the last two, his legs wanted to crumple underneath. He passed Winter’s knees. She danced a doll in front of him, pom poms in each of it’s plastic hands.

The second pencil caused his body to cry in pain but he kept silent, intoning the heave-ho mantra in his head. The dancing dolls, there were two of them now, visible in the periphery of his vision did nothing to ease the acidic pain in his thighs.

The third and final pencil felt at least twice as heavy. Unlike the others, it hadn’t been sharpened, so perhaps it did weigh a little more. He groaned as he hefted it, but he didn’t stop, not after he’d come this far.

At some point in the daze of sweat dripping from his eyebrows, a cool breeze hit his back, followed by a strong gust of wind. He looked over his shoulder to find Winter, down on her chest, blowing sandwich air in his direction. Peanut butter and jelly? It whipped his wet hair about his head, but he didn’t have the oxygen to tell her to stop.

His legs gave out a few yards (or was it inches?) from the pile. He collapsed into the carpet, face down, breathing whatever dust existed between the fibers. He rolled over, onto his back, staring at the concerned face of his little sister, peering at him between the dangling strands of her hair.

She reached for the pencil, his nemesis, and lifted it between two painted fingers as easily as one might lift a feather. In that simple movement, she made his actions seem entirely insignificant. And they had been. But they were his actions and it was his job.

“No.” He managed to get the word out, somehow. “Don’t touch it. Just give me a second.”

“Eli.” She whined. “You’re exhausted. Ally doesn’t have to know. We’ll say you finished.”

“No.” He got to his knees. Then his feet. Winter set the pencil back down and he lifted the eraser end onto his shoulder. His body had nothing left to give, but he forced it forward nonetheless, drawing strength from some unknown reserves.

He reached the pile, dropped the pencil, and watched as his vision swam black for a moment. It cleared but his stomach turned on him. He dropped to all fours on a sheet of paper and threw up. Nothing. He continued dry heaving, then fell onto his side, letting his sweaty clothing soak into the notebook sheet.

Winter’s finger strayed closer, but he shook his head, holding it at bay. Still nauseated, he lay there until the cool air combined with his sweat, causing him to shiver. He couldn’t hold Winter back any longer. She gathered his body into her palm and cradled him against her warm shirt.

“You did really good, Eli.” She said, speaking in a soft voice. “I can’t believe you cleaned up our whole room. You’re so strong. I could never do that at your size. I’m so proud of you, big bro.”

She didn’t know how little her words made him feel, but her intentions were good and honest. She sincerely wanted to make him feel better, and she really did love him. He’d been upset with her for the last two days after the binding experience, but he did at least gain one positive thing from the experience. He no longer feared her.

Whether due to their mind sharing or the lingering effects of the binding, he found he could keep his eyes open in her hands without the terrors. He couldn’t even do that with Ally or his mom yet. Still, he never wanted to experience binding again. It had left a bad taste in his mouth and was one of the many reasons he refused to speak with Parker.

Winter’s fingertip stroked him along the side of his body, starting from his shoulder and traveling down to his ankles. “I’m so glad you’re letting me hold you again. I really missed it.”

A chill ran through his body and he curled up tighter in her palm.

“We need to get you out of those clothes and into something warm. You need a bath too.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, attempting to sit up. “Take me back to my apartment.”

“No, please,” she said. “Let me hold you for just a little while longer.”

He sighed. “Ok but no binding. No undressing, and no bath.” He had to be explicit with her. She’d shared some of her ‘duties’ during his period of regression and, needless to say, they were all strictly forbidden by him from now on.

“Okaaay.” she raised him closer to her mouth. “But I’m at least going to keep you warm.” She exhaled hot, too sweet smelling breath over his body a few times, then layered her other hand on top of him, sealing in the warmth. He had to admit, it did feel good to his aching muscles.

“I wish you’d let me take care of you again,” she said.

“If you were my size, would you want Ally giving you baths and dressing you every day?” he asked.

“Sure!” she said. “Why not?”

“I don’t think you would. You’re not a baby and neither am I. Besides, you do take care of me. You make almost all my meals.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I almost forgot about your surprise.”

“Not right now.” He turned onto his side, drawing his knees toward his chest. “I’m comfortable.”

She giggled. “Warm enough?”

“Yeh.” His eyelids drooped as he inhaled the sweaty lotion smell of her hands. It didn’t smell bad, just a bit clammy, and with a hint of bread.

She whispered something to him as his eyes closed. Something about not wanting him to go to Premoria. Something about how she’d do everything she could to change his mind.

What would life be like when he got there?