(no subject)
The much diminished Andre can't help but explore the new limits of himself, racing from one end of the web to the other like a spider in a tube, to ensure that it's all still there. So small. There's Benjamin, drugged so deeply that he can't even think, just a sleeping mind on the couch of his mental apartment, the TV on but nothing but static. And there's Ashley, all consciousless ordered space and such perfect connections, memory packet to memory packet. Her mind is ice cold and he's always always always hated it there but he thinks about dropping to his knees and thanks his captor for leaving her here, with him, and not trapping him only in that close apartment with unaware Benny, who probably wouldn't even know that anything was wrong.