Author's Note: There are two things I want to discuss briefly here: the time when the story takes place and also a CONTENT WARNING. Fairly obvious, but the story takes place roughly between seasons 1 and 2, with flashbacks taking place far before the series. If you've not seen season 2, there is at least one SPOILER relating to Elliot's situation. Probably you should not read this unless you've seen 2 (what are you doing dude? watch it! it's great, seriously.) And now...

CONTENT WARNING: There is a scene involving an attempted sexual assault. There is also a scene towards the end which is quite tense, which describes a sort of harassment. If you're concerned about this and would like more details, you're very welcome to talk to me.

Now that that's out of the way, it's time to read on, friend. I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

Angela had been staring at her computer screen for what could have been a few minutes or many long hours. When she was this absorbed in her work, she was barely aware of time passing. Music poured from her earbuds, but she'd hardly even listened since turning it on. It could have been Pink or Linkin Park, it didn't matter; it just kept her from getting distracted. What eventually broke her focus was her grumbling stomach. How long had it been since she'd last ate? Her eyes darted to the clock in the corner of her computer screen, and her suspicions were confirmed: it was lunchtime.

Angela leaned back in her chair with a sigh and plucked the earbuds from her ears. The music faded to a tinny drone, swallowed by the sounds of clacking keys and ringing phones and bored, quiet voices and other typical office noises.

When Angela was a kid, she imagined E-Corp as a place fit to burst with terrible people. Employees who, if they weren't outright mean, were at least rude and shifty. Of course she'd dismissed that idea a long time ago. This was a normal place, filled with mostly normal people who were happy or bored or annoyed or thinking about their weekend plans. It was not unlike nearly every other office in the country. Perhaps it was more difficult to accept E-Corp office life as average, than it was to accept her child-self's hellish nightmare version.

Angela found the cafeteria to be just as ordinary. She bought her usual: a small salad in a cheap, plastic container. She'd never been a fan of salad, but she didn't care for most of the other options. Especially the meat, which she didn't trust. Anyway, the salad came with a tiny cup of some sort of delicious dressing. She had no idea what was in it. She suspected it was just chemical garbage, but she didn't care quite enough to find out.

Angela preferred having her lunch outside. There were a few metal tables arranged not too far from the building, spread out around an otherwise blank and soul-draining area. Many other E-Corp employees were already there. Enjoying a meal in the fresh air was a good draw. What wasn't so good was the fact that anybody, E-Corp or not, could get there easily. She'd heard stories of employees being harassed, having their food containers flipped or dumped on their heads.

Previously she was not sure how to feel about it. Now that she could possibly be on the receiving end, she decided she didn't like it. She glanced around warily as she sat down. She wasn't going to wear her food today. She'd finally decided it was safe to open her container when a smiley older woman approached her.

"Hello there!" she chirped. "E-Corp?"

Angela looked her over. She seemed trustworthy enough. "Yeah?"

The woman glanced down at the empty seat. "May I join you?" Angela nodded and she sat down. "I've seen you around a bit. You're very new, aren't you?"

Angela was embarrassed by her nerves. Obviously this lady worked for the same company she did. She smiled politely. "Yes, I'm new," she replied.

The woman held out her hand. "I'm Winnie," she introduced herself.

Angela shook her hand. "I'm Angela."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Angela." Winnie grinned as she popped open her container.

Angela tried not to wince at the sandwich inside, which was filled with the pinkish and suspicious E-Corp meat. She opened her own container and squished the dressing out of its cup into the salad.

"I wouldn't eat that stuff if I were you," Winnie said with a scowl. "Probably causes cancer."

Angela really didn't want to hear that. So she pretended she didn't. She was a bit too hungry at the moment anyway. She shoveled a few dressing-soaked tomatoes into her mouth and smiled at Winnie, as if to say she'd live through this.

Winnie smiled back before growing a bit more serious. "How about that hack, huh?"

Angela mirrored her look of wide-eyed disbelief. "Shocking," she murmured with a shake of her head.

"It's awful." Winnie took another huge bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "Theesh peeble er crayshee," she mumbled through her food. She swallowed noisily. "They don't like E-Corp, I guess. I mean, yeah, they've done bad things, but no company's perfect. Look at Walmart! People still shop there, though. What's so special about E-Corp?"

Angela made sure to keep a smile frozen on her face. They killed my mom. "You make a good point," she said evenly.

Winnie nodded vigorously. "Yes, I think most people would say so," she chuckled lightly.

They ate in silence for a little while, Winnie devouring her sandwich like mad and Angela picking at her salad. Angela was usually better at making conversation. She couldn't think of anything to say, or maybe she was just too nervous to make words come out. Is this what Elliot feels like all the time? She groaned inwardly when she thought of him, behind bars, alone. Hopefully he was alone. What if another prisoner hurt him? Or—

"Honey?"

Winnie's shrill voice broke Angela out of her thoughts. "I'm sorry?"

"I asked if you've heard of Green Neon." Winnie had finished her sandwich, and was wiping the E-Corp meat fluids from her chin.

Angela shook her head.

"It's just this teeny bar a few blocks from here. Lots of us from E-Corp go there and just hang out." Winnie grinned. "You should join us sometime!"

Angela tried her best to look friendly and happy. "Yeah, that sounds nice." What must it be like to be Winnie? Just drifting through life, getting by on being kind but dim? Actually it sounded like a pretty good life. All that aside, Green Neon piqued her interest. She knew she had to go. She needed to look like she belonged, after all.

Winnie distractedly tossed her napkin into her container, giggling as though spontaneously intoxicated. "I met this really nice guy there. He works in Human Resources." She blinked curiously at Angela. "Do you have someone special?"

Angela gave a tight smile as she stabbed a cucumber with her plastic fork. "It's complicated."

"That's just a fancy way of saying 'no,'" Winnie chuckled. "My friend sent that joke to me on Facebook."

Angela nodded. Winnie wasn't incorrect. She hadn't really thought much about dating since the Ollie debacle. She really didn't have a good track record when it came to boyfriends. There was Ollie, before that there was John or Jim or Jerome or something similar. Then there was Brandon, her very first boyfriend.

It had been years since she'd thought about him. Or the camping trip.

Even so, Angela remembered it all so vividly. She remembered returning home from Brandon's house, after he had invited her to go up to his brother's camp with him, and feeling heavy with depression because she knew her dad wouldn't let her go. Maybe she could change his mind, but she very much doubted it. Well, she at least had to give it a shot.

Angela found her dad in the usual place, plopped down in front of the TV in the ancient recliner.

Angela flashed the brightest smile she could. "Hi, Dad."

He glanced at her, unimpressed. "Hey." He checked his watch. "You said you'd be home fifteen minutes ago."

Angela frowned and slumped her shoulders and did her best to show how bad she felt. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Her father turned quickly to search her face, assessing the level of honesty in her reaction. He stared at the TV again and sighed. "What do you want, Angela?"

Angela stammered for several moments, shocked and disappointed that her act was a failure.

"Spit it out," her dad muttered.

Angela took a deep breath and tried to smile again. "Dad, you remember I told you I had a boyfriend?"

"Brandon."

"Yeah. Anyway, he invited me to his brother's camp for the weekend. We haven't hung out too much outside of school, so he thought this would be a nice way for us to—"

Her father jerked his head around and stared at her intently. "Nice way to what?" he demanded.

Angela's face burned. "A nice way for us to get to know each other," she told him, barely managing to suppress a groan. She saw her dad open his mouth again and yelled over him before he could embarrass her any more. "By talking!"

Angela's dad turned back to the TV, his face unreadable. He took a deep breath. Angela knew what was coming next: the third degree.

"How old is he?" was the first question.

"He's about my age," Angela replied briskly. She was a good girl. She had nothing to hide. "He'll be sixteen next month."

Her dad flipped through some more channels. An old trick. Really he was paying more attention to his daughter than the screen. "What's the deal with this camp? There gonna be alcohol there?"

Angela had no idea. She had to be honest, so she told him so.

Her father rubbed at his eyes, frustrated.

"Really, I don't know," Angela repeated, working to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Even if there is some, I promise I won't drink any."

Her dad scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Anybody else going?"

"Umm, yeah." Angela cleared her throat. "Brandon's big brother is driving us there, and his girlfriend's coming along. And, umm, maybe her little sister?" She shifted her feet. "And also Darlene and—"

"That's a lot of people," her dad cut her off.

"It's-it's a big camp. There's plenty of room." Angela waited with bated breath for him to say something, but he remained silent. She figured he was mulling things over. What was going through his head? Angela nervously chewed on her lip. "So, can I—?"

"What about Elliot?" He sat up straight now, looking at her. "He'll be there too since his sister is going, right?" He asked the question agonizingly slowly.

Angela nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Her dad frowned. "I don't like him."

"Huh? Why?"

Her dad sniffed. "Something's not right about him. Hardly says a word. Don't think he's ever looked me in the eye. I don't know if I trust him."

Angela bit the inside of her lip, trying not to let on how disgusted she felt. A supposed adult, and he was no better than some of the kids at her high school. "Elliot is one of my best friends," she told him calmly. "He's not untrustworthy. He just…He has mental problems."

"Ted Bundy had mental problems too."

Angela shook her head in shock. "Dad, what the fu—?"

Her dad chuckled. "Calm down. I'm kidding. I'm just saying he's very strange, that's all."

Angela's eye twitched. She supposed now she'd have to add sanism to the list of her father's worst qualities. "So…" she sighed. "Can I go?"

Her dad did a double-take. "Oh! Absolutely not." And he resumed his channel surfing.

Angela tried to hold in her aggravation, but it spilled out. "What? I just—Why?"

He looked at her again, his jaw tightening. "You're going God knows where—"

"It's just over—"

"—with a group made up of mostly strangers and—You do understand you don't know Brandon all that well, right? He could be a creep."

"I will be careful," Angela assured him.

Her dad exhaled sharply. "And there could be alcohol involved…"

"Dad, I already promised I—"

Her dad waved her away. "This conversation is over," he stated with grandiose finality.

Angela stood there for a moment, staring at him in disappointment, before walking slowly to her room. She slumped onto her bed, wishing she had thrown out a few teen clichés like "you're ruining my life," but she wasn't that person, and her father would hardly respond positively to that.

She supposed the response she had gotten was reasonable enough. Well, at least in some aspects. Her upset was not even so much due to this particular argument as it was to so many other, smaller things, which stuck like burs in her mind.

From the moment she'd walked in that day, he'd seemed awfully annoyed with her, even before the camping trip discussion. She felt her dad was unusually harsh with her, for reasons she couldn't quite figure out. She was a good student. She got all A's…and B+'s. She was a member of the Athletic Club and Business Club. In the summertime she participated in the local model U.N. She was a good daughter. She followed all her dad's rules (at least ninety-nine percent of the time).

It wasn't as though everything went unnoticed by him, but Angela felt she was still deserving of more credit, at least a little. She tried to shake away the feeling. Perhaps she was just being petty and greedy.

A while later Angela buried herself in summer reading projects, having entirely given up on any hope of being with Brandon.

Then there was a knock on her door frame. Angela lifted her head to see her dad standing just outside the room, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide and serious.

"Listen," he said sternly.

Angela stared at him, frozen, not daring to even blink.

"No alcohol. No boys or men in your tent or room or wherever you are. Understood?"

Angela nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

"And be careful."

Angela held her head up, in a way that she believed made her look graceful and mature. "Yes, Dad, I will be careful, I promise."

Her dad scratched his nose, eyebrows crumpling with distress. "All right," he mumbled, then he lumbered away down the hall.