Before everything, you never would have guessed Elle is afraid of lightning storms. When she was just the blond Company Girl whose car window you once punched in to prove a point, just the girl with the slushies and electricity running though her body like blood, you never would have thought a flash of light in the sky would do this to her.

But that was then, and now you know many things about her, things that are in her file, and more that aren't. You know she got her favourite necklace, a tiny lightning bolt, at an arcade with stolen tickets. You know that when she drinks coffee, its with as much sugar as she can get away with. You know she was taught to bake by a Company agent in a Company kitchen, that the cell which served as her bedroom for most of her life had been painted pink on her father's orders, regulations be damned. You know what happened to her in that pink-walled jail cell, too.

Because you know all this, you also know why every time lightning shoots across the sky, when the thunder wakes you, you will find her huddled in the corner farthest from the door, watching it like she thinks her father is going to enter any moment now.

The Haitian wiped her mind of all testing done on her, but between the first hand accounts your father gave her and the files she had managed to uncover, Elle knows what was done to her.

You don't get out of bed, don't go sit next to her. You never know if it'll be welcome, your touch; anyone's touch. Elle is still unused to casual human contact. So instead you roll over to face her, and call out softly. "Elle?"

The older girl startles, a zap of blue light flying between her fingers in surprise. Then she meets your eyes, and smiles weakly. "Lightning storm. Didn't wake you up, did I?" She's speaking in her small voice, the one that makes her sound much younger than she is; the one that results from the childhood she was stolen from.

"Nah, it was the thunder. Want some company?" She simply nods, a quick jerk of her head, and you slid out of bed to join her in the corner.

"You've never asked why I'm afraid of lightning, you know." Elle looks at you, and the shadows under her eyes are darker than normal. You can't decide if you want the redness of her eyes to be from exhaustion or tears.

"Do you want me to?" Another flash of light illuminates the room, and a few seconds later the deep crack of thunder follows.

"You already know, though, don't you?" Elle looks down at her hands. "You already guessed it was 'cause it reminds me of what they did to me- what my dad had them do to me. I was the lighting rod and the lightning, all at the same time." Her tiny hands clench, and you slip one of your own in between, grasping her fingers as tightly as she was. "But I've always been afraid of lightning, even when I didn't know... when I didn't know what they had done. It's like I knew, but I didn't, you know?"

You stay silent, because this is something you can never know, never understand fully. Even if the Company was to take you tomorrow, even if your father was the one leading the experiments they would do, you still wouldn't be able to comprehend what it would be like to be a child experiencing that. Instead, you wrap your free arm around her shoulder, pulling her body against yours letting her rest her head on your shoulder.

"I knew there was a reason I was afraid, but my dad told me it was nothing, and I was being a silly little girl."

"You were a little girl, Elle."

"What did your dad tell you when you were afraid of things?"

"He told me it was okay, that everything would be alright; that there was nothing to be afraid of, because he would protect me." It makes you sad to say it because you know Bob did the exact opposite with his daughter, in words and practice.

"I wish I had someone to tell me that when I was little." Her voice is still small, and it's shaking a little. You pull away a little, so you can look her in the eye.

"Hey. Elle. Everything is going to be alright. There's nothing to be afraid of, because I'm going to protect you, and you are more than capable of protecting yourself. Okay?" You say the words with all the love and conviction you can muster, wish she had the power to tell lies from truth, because you mean these words with everything in you.

She smiles at you, bright and not shaking even a little, and next time the room is illuminated, she doesn't flinch.