You don’t remember falling asleep. One moment, you’re standing in the middle of the rooftop battle;the next, your vision shatters—like glass dropped on marble—and something cold slips through your spine.

Not pain. Not even fear. Just intrusion.

Your lungs seize for half a second, and then the world steadies again. The wind whips your hair into your face, and your pulse feels like it’s ricocheting through the fingertips. Except your fingers twitch on their own.

Your fingers. Move. Without you.

“Wha—” The word almost falls from your lips, but the sound isn’t yours. It’s silent. And then it hits you—your jaw never moved. Your lips stayed pressed shut.

Your body walks forward. Not because you told it to.

Oh no.

“Oh, hell no—” you try to scream inside your own head, and that’s when you hear it: a voice, threaded with guilt and something like panic, slipping through your thoughts like water through cracks.

Easy. Please. Don’t freak out.

You freeze—well, your mind freezes. Your body? Your body’s busy climbing over the ledge, swinging down to the fire escape with a grace you didn’t know you had. And your heart spikes so hard you’re sure it’ll rupture.

WHO—WHAT—?!

Jericho, the voice answers softly. Calm. Polite. Like this isn’t the single most horrifying experience of your life. Joey Wilson. I… might’ve accidentally… borrowed you.

Borrowed?! Your mental scream echoes like a bell. You hijacked my body?!

It’s not—okay, it is that, he admits, sheepish, and oh great, he sounds like the kind of guy who apologizes when he steals your fries. But it wasn’t on purpose. Your eyes met mine. I didn’t even mean to—

Your stomach flips as your legs—your legs—launch into a parkour move you have never practiced in your life. Metal rattles under your boots, and the night air claws against your cheeks like cold fingers.

Stop! you shout. I’m not an acrobat! I’ll die if you—

You won’t, Joey’s voice soothes, and damn him, he actually sounds earnest. I’ve done this before. A lot. You’re safe.

Your thoughts are boiling. You’re in my head! Do you even know what boundaries are?!

There’s a pause, then the faintest curl of humor: Says the person who was about to throw herself off a roof after curfew.

You internally growl—an impressive feat for someone whose mouth won’t move. That was reconnaissance, not rebellion!

Another pause, heavier this time. Then, softer: Look, I’ll get out. I promise. Just… Don’t fight me while I’m guiding us back to safety, okay? If you panic, it makes the muscles twitchy.