There was something strangely comforting about the mess of the apartment. Peeling wallpaper, alcohol-stained carpet, and the fishbowl; slowly collecting algae. The scattered fliers, with their text screaming out against the government reminded her of the good days. Cigarette butts littered the tabled and spilled out onto the floor, scenting the air with smoke and nicotine. It smelled like home.

Gloria collapsed onto the dusty coach. It was four in the morning and she had just gotten back from the bar. She hated it being stuck waiting on her drunken peers instead of leading them into battle as she once had. She remembered how she'd organize the riots… How she could transform the crowd of rejects and rebels into the true army that was The Underground. But all that was well before the incident.

She sighed as she picked herself up so that she was no longer sprawled over the filthy sofa. Her hand automatically reached into her pocket searching for a cigarette. Two left, she grabbed one and began looking for a match. It wasn't difficult. She grabbed a matchbook from the edge of the coffee table and quickly lit up.

She inhaled deeply, as though the smoke would help her find the answers. Will he ever recover? How much can he even remember? Is it even worth…Of course it is!! Gloria interrupted her own thoughts; he would wait for you…right? She didn't know anymore. The old Christian would have he would have waited an eternity.

But this new Christian who barely remembered The Underground who had forgotten the pills, the fires, everything! Christian, post-lobotomy. Still he's healing, Gloria remembered, healing. He'll be back to his old self…someday. But how much of it is really him? She wouldn't have believed it was Christian at all. He didn't fight, didn't drink or smoke. And he was…submissive. Almost as bad as when I found him, Gloria realized.

And They had done this to him, Gloria fumed. They had taken him. Changed him. They took her Christian away and had tossed back this victim of The Peacemaker. He was hardly himself at all. Gloria wondered if there was anything they hadn't taken from him. Any shred of personality, any scrap of hope…

FWOOMP

Gloria jumped at the sound; a match had been struck up beside her. She steadied out her uneven heart beat as she recognized it was only him.

Christian held the burning match in his hands, watching it intently. His eyes moved back and forth, tracing its flicker following its dance. He looked as though he could follow it for hours.

Gloria put her hands up to his shoulders his muscles unwound under her fingertips. He looked away from the flames for the first time to meet Gloria's eyes. He smiled.

He dropped the match.

Gloria pulled back one she saw Christian let go. But Christian himself just watched it fall through the air, unblinking.

It landed on a flyer that had been lying halfway in the ash tray, it caught fire immediately. The flames began to eat up the paper moving quickly away from the match. The fire lit up Christian's face, making his rusty hair appear orange and deepening the shadows that defined a huge grin.

As the fire finally fizzled out, Christian happily watched the smoke rise up to meet the ceiling and dissipate. He sat like that for a moment, just smiling at where the smoke had been. Then he turned sharply to face Gloria, who had been watching him the whole time in shock.

"Gloria…Do I like fire?"

Her face went from surprised to smiling in an instant. So that's what they couldn't take away.

"Once a pyro, always a pyro." Gloria said happily.

"Really?" Christian asked, Gloria nodded. "Wow…"

He seemed happy with the new discovery. He was always happy when he remembered something even the bad. There were worse memories he had smiled at.

This is a breakthrough. Gloria realized. She began the question that she had asked one million times.

"Do you…remember anything?"

Christian closed his eyes, "…you know what…I think i…"

Gloria sat straight up. Before she got a chance to press him for details he started again.

"I… Well, it's a little fuzzy but…" he struggled for words and squinted his eyes, "That station…the one down the street…did I…" he opened his eyes and looked straight at Gloria, " Did I do that?"

Gloria knew exactly what he was talking about. The station, or what was left of it, was what had gotten him this way in the first place. She looked at her shoes, avoiding Christian's curious, child-like eyes.

Taking a deep breath she answered, "Yeah…for me. It's a long story…"

She looked up to see Christian looking extremely confused. He silently mouthed, "What…?"

She fumbled around her pocket and pulled out her last cigarette, she was going to need it.