She stops wheezing, switching to controlled breathing, but at "keep your feet under you", she grabs the railing with her other hand and slows down.

She yanks Cara's arm hard enough to pull her off the railing. "I didn't say stop. I said keep your feet under you." She keeps moving, dragging the girl along. "You can breathe and walk at the same time. Multi-tasking. Very advanced concept, I know." Another flight, another turn. She can feel Cara's pulse hammering through their connected arms, rabbit-quick and getting faster. "Two more floors. Don't pass out."

She attempts to keep pace, but she stumbles as they turn the last corner, falling backwards -

She catches Cara's arm before she can hit the stairs, yanking her upright with a sharp jerk. "No." The word comes out flat, annoyed. "I said don't pass out. That includes falling." She hauls Cara up the last flight, practically lifting her off her feet on the final steps. The fifth floor hallway stretches out before them, mercifully empty at this hour. She doesn't let go of Cara's arm as she fishes out her key card. "Room 517. Almost there. Try not to collapse in the hallway—I'd rather not explain you to the RA."

Nod. Stumblefollow.

The lock beeps green. She shoulders the door open and pulls Cara inside, kicking it shut behind them. The room is sparse—single bed, desk covered in chemistry textbooks and molecular models, a small fridge humming in the corner. She maneuvers Cara to the bed and pushes her down onto it. "Sit. Stay." The contact as she lets go leaves her fingers tingling, that pleasant buzz already fading. She steps back, considering. "You're soaked. And bleeding." She grabs a towel from her closet and tosses it at Cara's face. "Dry yourself off while I figure out what to do with you."

She does her best to towel herself off while seated on the bed, though this does limit the amount of surface area she can effectively towel. 

She watches Cara's halfhearted attempts with the towel, then sighs. "Stand up. Arms out." She grabs the towel back and starts drying Cara off properly, rough and efficient. The contact sends that pleasant buzz through her again, stronger with the increased surface area. She can feel the backlash sloshing between them like water finding its level, her head buzzing. "Your knees are still bleeding. And you smell like chlorine."

Is she really going to put her in the shower after she just dried off. Probably not.

"Take it off and lay on the bed. It's probably better to do this somewhere other people won't see."

Getting out of the swimsuit is a bit of a struggle because Vera tied it so tightly, but she manages, and then lies down.

She watches Cara struggle with the knots, making no move to help. When the girl finally manages to get free and lies down, Vera moves to sit on the edge of the bed, running a finger along one of the raw scrapes on Cara's knee. The blood is already starting to clot. "You really did a number on yourself." She presses down slightly, watching fresh red well up. "This is going to sting."

She leans down and drags her tongue across the wound, tasting copper and chlorine and that electric compatibility. She looks up, studying Cara's face. "Better?"

No response.

"Nothing? Not even a twitch?" She shifts to straddle Cara's thighs, settling her weight down, dress spread around her like the petals of a lily. The skinship makes her heart sing. "You really are hollowed out." She traces a finger along Cara's collarbone, watching for any reaction. "Let's see what else you'll let me do."

She leans down, pressing her mouth to the curve of Cara's clavicle, feeling the pulse there against her lips. "Your heart's still racing. That's something, at least." She bites down, not hard enough to break skin, not on anything too vital, but enough to see a flush of red that she could have, if she tried just a little harder. "Still nothing? God, you're perfect like this."

Perfect and stationary. 

She sits back slightly, studying Cara's vacant expression. The guiding is working—she can feel lanugo hair standing on end, that pleasant electric flow—but the girl underneath her might as well be a mannequin. "You know what? Let's make this more interesting." She shifts her weight, then leans down to whisper directly in Cara's ear. "When I kiss you, you're going to kiss back. Just mirror what I do. Nothing more, nothing less."

She presses her lips to Cara's, gentle at first, testing. The compatibility sings through the contact, stronger now with saliva in the mix. She deepens it slightly, one hand tangling in that blue hair, waiting to see if her new doll can follow even this simple instruction.

She can! Her mouth opens symmetrically, leaning into it -

Perfect. She pulls back after a moment, watching Cara's mouth close in perfect synchrony with hers. Her head is pleasantly buzzing. "Good girl." She traces a thumb along Cara's lower lip. "Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Just a little."

She waits for Cara to comply, then presses her own tongue against it, not kissing, just contact. The compatibility practically sparkles at this direct exchange, and she has to suppress a shiver. "Hold still. Don't move until I tell you." She counts to five in her head, savoring the sensation, before pulling back. "Close your mouth. Swallow."

She is getting a little frustrated that she has to keep pulling away to direct the thing, though.

The thing's backlash levels are dropping - she can taste it in the guiding contact, the slight lessening in intensity as they draw closer to each other.

She can feel it too—that gradual equalization, like water finding its level between two vessels. Which means she needs to be careful. Too much guiding and Cara might start getting pieces of herself back, might start wanting things again. And where's the fun in that?

She climbs off Cara and stands, smoothing down her dress. "Sit up. Edge of the bed."

-She does.

"Tell me about what you were doing when whatever happened to you, happened." When she awakened, she means.

"...I was chatting with friends online." 

"And then what?" She circles around to stand behind Cara, running fingers through that blue hair, still damp with chlorine. "Walk me through it. When did you first notice something was wrong?" She leans down, breath warm against Cara's ear. "Be specific. I want details."

She's genuinely curious now—how long has this girl been wandering around campus in this state? Hours? Days? And nobody noticed, or nobody cared enough to do anything about it. Typical.

"Someone asked me to help them on a project. I worked with them on it until my alarm went off and told me to take my meds, which I did, and then my calendar told me to go to my study group, so I did. After spending 30 minutes there, people talked about getting coffee, and someone asked if someone could go pick up orders. I went to get the coffee. You found and kidnapped me." 

"Asked. Told. Asked." She twists a strand of blue hair around her finger. "Not a single decision in there was yours, was it? Just following one instruction after another." She tugs sharply on the hair. "How long? When did you start just... obeying everything?"

She moves around to face Cara again, tilting the girl's chin up with one finger. "And your friends sent you for coffee while you were like this? Either they didn't notice or they didn't care. Which do you think is worse?"

"11 pm last night." no answer.