Their romance was one of the few happy memories that she had left. Meeting in a comic book store, skateboarding together and having coffee. Dancing all night under the stars, making promises of forever.
The two of them rented an aging apartment with an ugly orange shag carpet and appliances that never worked quite right. He covered the walls in posters of superheros and scantily clad women, but she didn't care. They were together and happier than they'd ever been.
He knew about the time travel, and the dodgy abilities, and all of the other dangers she encountered just by being herself. He had bandaged her wounds and forced her to get medical care. He loved her.
"You're mine." His voice woke Janie from a nap. He was beside her, in their first apartment.
He'd blown the old dingy walls to bits, she remembered. The apartment had been completely renovated twice over by the time she finally left for good, due to her boyfriend blasting holes in the walls.
"Alastair. I'm not anyone's-" She trailed off, noticing that the windows and doors were covered in iron bars. "What is this?"
"You're mine." he repeated, standing up. "For eternity."
The words made her blood run cold. She was shackled at the wrist and ankle too, and her abilities were not working.
"Let me go or there's going to be hell to pay. Literally."
"I've got dampeners installed all over the entire island. This is your new home." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then started for the door. "You can have everything that you've ever wanted, and eventually, I will remove the chains."
She tried to think about him saving her life, all the times that he saved her, but all that came back is the spell that got her lost in time, the holes in the walls, the days of silent treatment for something small. The arguments. But it wasn't bad. Not until the end.
The lights were dimmed. He walked to the bed again, reaching his hand out to her.
"You can't kill me, Les. Please don't try again."
"We're dancing. Stand up."
Janie obeyed. At the end, when she didn't obey, she got to see his spiteful side. The violent side.
He'd dressed her in a short dress, much like she wore to their first dance together, and his free hand was tangled in her hair. She knew that it was useless to protest. The dampeners, the locks, lack of weapons, and the fact that she was sure he didn't leave her side.
"I've escaped worse, asshole." She said, finally, after one of his hands had wandered down and started to snake under her skirt.
"Your sister didn't" He spoke coldly, removing his hand from her bottom. She was relieved for a few seconds, until a sharp pain in her back. The pain soon felt crushing and burning, like her very soul caught fire. "You're Mine, Janie. For eternity."
Her last thought was that she didn't have a sister.