Be Gay Do Crime

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Ashe grit her teeth as she worked her way through the dungeon. The enemies were well familiar to her and the rotations to deal with them rather rote after a hundred plus runs since the patch dropped. Yet, she struggled to keep up with her old finesse. Playing an MMO with a controller was always seen as a mild handicap, yet she was always on the top ten leaderboards for Tank DPS and their healer was literally number one ranked in the world while also using a controller.

Right now, her numbers weren't even in the top seventy percent for the last boss. She wanted to scream, her hand just wasn't cooperating with her when she needed it to. She could handle a gun fairly well, but the dexterity needed to push controller buttons properly just wasn't there. She'd invested four years of her life into the game and now she might just lose it all.

Retirement was looking likely and she wanted nothing more than to cry. Her raid leader was aware of how bad things looked, and already arranged for a replacement for the short term, with the potential of them becoming a permanent member if she wasn't able to recover. Her character looked back on her monitor, arms crossed in judgment wearing crimson armor and a giant fuck off axe across her back. She'd fallen in love with the class from the first round of Berserk. Hell, the game all but cracked her egg.

Now that stage of her life was likely behind her.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she reached for her phone and smiled at the waiting messages. Ashe hadn't managed to meet back up with Crystal after what could only be called a date, but they stayed in constant contact through texting. It was a saving grace for her sanity, even if Crystal worked most nights.

Their impromptu motorcycle trip hadn't amused her parents, and while she wasn't grounded, she was essentially homebound unless her mom went somewhere or Jasper needed a walk. Crystal didn't own a car herself, though she did mention being able to borrow one if needed. She just preferred her bike over a car and after riding with her days prior, Ashe could see why.

It was freeing in a way, even with the mortality rates for motorcyclists.

Ashe logged off for the night and set her controller to the side, staring at her hand as she did. Unlike in that fantasy world, there were no miracles or magic to fix such an injury. She'd ended up re-reading one of her favorite novels just to escape from the reality of her situation.

She couldn't even open a bottle of coke without a bottle opener, the imported Mexican stuff with real sugar was more than a mild addiction, and she'd loved showing off by casually popping the lid when they had other officers over for dinner. Now she couldn't manage that and likely never would again. This was going to be a lifelong disability, even if she got better it would never go away completely.

Ashe grabbed the controller and threw it, or rather, tried to. The controller slipped through numb fingers and clattered to the floor well before it would have struck the wall. The batteries still fell out regardless, making it sound worse than it was. Ashe slumped down on her bed, tears flowing down her face.

"Why is it that anytime something good comes along, it is always surrounded by immeasurable levels of shit?"

No answer was forthcoming from the uncaring world, not that she expected one.

There was no point to wallowing in her own self pity, so Ashe picked her unhappy ass up off the bed and made her way into the living room. Maybe some late night ice cream was in order. Her mom was sitting on the couch, watching TV in her pajamas. Ashe smiled a bit at that, and went into the kitchen where she made up two bowls of ice cream. Brownie chunk with dark chocolate syrup for herself and strawberry for her mom.

She brought the bowls to the couch and handed one over to her mom.

"Oh, honey, you didn't— You've been crying."

"Yeah," Ashe admitted. "My hand isn't getting better, and I just had to tell my raid team to find a long term substitute with the potential of it becoming permanent."

Ashe found herself pulled into an awkwardly angled hug. "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry."

"I'll live," she said, choking back renewed tears. "I just feel so damn helpless. I was permanently maimed, I was molested, and those fuckers are getting away with it."

"They aren't getting away with it," Mom said, but Ashe could hear the hollowness in those words. Neither of them believed it. "I asked my therapist if they would be willing to see you. She has an opening next week."

Ashe stiffened. She really didn't want to talk about what happened, even if she objectively knew she needed to do so. The wounds were too fresh, too raw for that. Even Crystal knew not to poke at what happened beyond the assailants themselves. She knew where one of them was, and that he was doing illegal things, maybe—

"We must stand together!" a man on the TV shouted. Ashe turned her attention to the screen and frowned. Senator Theodore Ellington stood in front of a crowd as he delivered one of his famous speeches. "The groomers continue to corrupt our children, pushing their vile ways upon the next generation. Well, not here in our great state! That was my promise to you when I was Governor and I have fought for the same in the Senate, and now, I am proud to announce that I will be running for President!"

The crowd screamed as a banner unfurled behind him with his slogan.

'Return to Grace!'

Ashe wanted to heave as he continued his speech, knowing she was the exact sort of person he would use as an example, and the first that he would see killed if he could get away with it. Federal orders were the only thing keeping the state's shitty laws from going into effect, and as President, she knew he could sign orders that could be used to activate them on a national scale.

The thought terrified her in a primal way, and she wondered just how Crystal could be related to the man. That was when he stepped aside, a blonde woman came to his side and two others stepped forward. She recognized Crystal right away, even if she was wearing a blonde wig over her blue punk cut. The boy beside her was familiar, but not overly so. She might have seen him in passing before on one of the man's billboards last election.

"My family and I hope that you will choose us to continue to serve you, the people, in the highest office of our great nation!"

The camera zoomed in, but a bit too slow to miss the look of disgust on Crystal's face. She hated the man, wanted nothing to do with him, yet he pressured her into coming. What had he used as leverage to get her to agree to such a farce? It occurred to her that she could just ask, but would that be presumptuous?

"Well fuck," Mom said, frowning at the TV. "Half the precinct is going to be chanting that fucking slogan well past the election, even if he loses."

"So will my school," Ashe said. "They already hate me for existing, so this will just renew the flames."

"You won't return until Monday, so best to not dwell on it for now."

Ashe rolled her eyes to hide a grimace. She didn't want to go back, but it wasn't like she had a choice if her goal was to secure a college scholarship or grant and get out of the state. Maybe she could even talk Crystal into leaving with her, get her away from her father. There had to be a reason why Crystal hadn't already left. On screen, Crystal hugged her little brother, the camera focusing on the sibling moment.

"Oh shit," her mom said, finally recognizing Crystal on the screen. "No wonder she gave us a fake name."

"Yeah," Ashe said sadly. "Just look at her up there."

She was being used as literal propaganda by someone who wanted to eliminate LGBT people. Noting that the broadcast was live, Ashe pulled her phone out and found a video of a Canadian woman chopping wood and sent it to her. Surprisingly, Ashe got to watch as Crystal pulled her phone out and checked it, a smile growing as she watched. Then a quick message was typed out.

"Okie-dokie, I needed that."

Ashe's fingers moved swiftly. "Glad to see you smile, you look miserable up there."

She caught the exact moment that message clicked for Crystal as she looked to the nearest camera, which unfortunately wasn't the one the network was currently showing. That didn't stop her from seeing the woman's smile.

"What did you send her?" Mom asked, a smirk on her face as she looked from the TV to Ashe.

"Lesbian lumberjack," Ashe said, turning her phone around. "She needed cheering up."

"That would do it," her mom said with a chuckle. "I wonder if Crystal knew this was coming? It certainly explains why she wanted to stay out of things. Ellington has a reputation for dirty dealings behind closed doors."

"He would have me killed if he thought I was a danger to his campaign," Ashe translated. "Crystal's actions could be spun to his favor, but not mine. A trans girl defending herself against church going white men would inflame his base."

"Oh, he'd spin it far worse than that," Mom said. "It makes me glad I didn't press her further. I care about you too much, and you've got enough of a target on your back as it is. I know it was the right decision for you to transition, but sometimes I wish you had just kept your head down until college."

Ashe opened her mouth, then bit her tongue. It wasn't a rebuke, it was just an observation. It would have been safer if she hadn't openly transitioned as a teen, but she likely wouldn't have survived the repression, even if she was taking hormones during the whole time. She would have been outed eventually, and that would have ended on a much worse note.

No, she chose the road that was easiest, and despite everything that had happened including the attack, things were still going better than she ever expected. Ashe had expected to be dead by seventeen, and here she was, almost eighteen and alive. She reluctantly moved the goalpost to twenty-one, especially if that bastard ended up elected.

It was a special kind of hell to have your life hanging in the balance of an election you couldn't even vote in. She'd felt that sting twice so far, but this time her voice would be heard, however faint. It still felt like too little. Just what could she accomplish on her own? She was a known figure, at least in abstract, could she leverage that?

Not likely. She wasn't anyone important despite various special interest groups using her case to further her own goals. Her moms sheltered her as best they could from the death threats, but there was only so much they could do on that front. She wasn't sure if the attack was someone taking a swing at her for perceived slights in years passed when her case got national attention. It wouldn't surprise her to learn someone targeted her like that, and would make it the most successful to date.

The news cut from the live feed and started playing clips back, both from that night's broadcast as well as the man's time as both Governor and later Senator. His supporters would eat it all up, which was no surprise given who owned the media in Jericho. Even the stations that should have opposed him based on social media posts were owned by his support base, and spun things to be in his favor while paying his opposition barely any lip service. Hell, not one station ran a single story of the attack on her. That was relegated to online articles with no front page presence that nobody would ever see.

She might only be seventeen but she could see how obviously rigged the game was at this point.

That only served to reinforce a rather uncomfortable truth. Nobody was going to help her. Her parents would do what little they could, but with their jobs and morals tying their hands, it amounted to nothing in the end. The men who hurt her, who violated her, would get away with it. There was one option, one that she never let herself consider before. Crystal planted the seed in her ear during their lunch, then laughed it off, but what if she hadn't been joking?

Ashe glanced down at her phone and felt a weight settle on her shoulders. Could she bring herself to go against the flow and risk everything she worked for just to try and make a difference in the here and now? What would her parents think if she went down that path? Could she hide it from them?

It would be breaking the law, something she never planned to do if only out of respect for those that took her under their roof without reservation. Not to mention how Florida handled trans prisoners, she would die before she was incarcerated. She loved her moms, and they loved her, but the law they worked to uphold failed to keep her safe. Justice wasn't coming, not without some help.

Maybe it was up to her to give it the nudge that was needed.

Her ice cream was long finished, and her mom was oblivious to the thoughts swirling through her mind. It was reckless and stupid, but what other options were left to her? Should she just curl up and wait for the next attack? Looking once more at her hand, she clenched it as tightly as her numb fingers allowed. It wasn't enough to work a controller, but there were other things she could use her hand for, even if it was just to put a finger to the scales.

So, Ashe excused herself, giving her mom a hug before returning the bowls to the sink and giving them a quick rinse before placing them in the dishwasher. She might be planning something stupid, but that didn't mean she needed to neglect basic etiquette.

That finished, Ashe retreated to her room and took a deep breath. Crystal's number looked back at her along with the green call button. She wasn't sure what her end goal was or if she even had one at this point, but what she did have was a starting point.

Her thumb hit the call button and the phone began to ring. Ashe's heart hammered in her chest as it rang once, then twice. Crystal answered on the third ring and she found her spine.

"Crystal, can we meet up soon?" she asked.

A gentle chuckle sounded from the other end. "Miss me that much?"

She wanted to say yes. Ashe was thoroughly smitten with the woman, but that wasn't why she was calling.

"Obviously," she said with a teasing lilt. "But I've been thinking about some of the things we talked about over lunch."

"Have you now," Crystal said. It was cautious, but there was also interest there. "I didn't think you were the type to dwell on things said in jest."

It was an offered out, and Ashe could recognize it as such, but she was past taking it. "And if they weren't?"

Silence reigned for a moment, not a sound beyond the distant crowds to be heard.

"Well, in that case," Crystal said. "I think we may want to see about having a second date, wouldn't you say?"

Ashe swallowed heavily, and not because of the implication that their last outing had been a date. No, it was the significance of second dates that weighed on her mind and what it meant for her suggested reason for meeting up.

She was committing herself if she went along with it.

"Where did you have in mind?" Ashe asked and she felt as though she planted the seeds of her own doom with words spoken.

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