I feel guilty, abandoning my other story for this one. Who knows though, maybe I'll finish this one. Please Review, even if you hate it. Warning: child abuse, in later chapters rape, and other bad stuff

Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize

Chapter 1: Misery

She hurt…it was the only possible thought that could make its way through her twisted mind. Twisted and tangled, but not broken, not yet. The thought filled her with a little spark of warmth. Wouldn't Zack be proud of his baby sister, eight months of psy-ops and reindoctrination and she hadn't broken yet. The happiness soured quickly and left a dull aching in her heart, his heart. Zack, God, her big brother, he was gone now, he'd left her. All of them had been recaptured. All the '09ers had been returned home. Except for Zack and Ben of course, Manticore only had their bodies now, harvested of all organs, burned, and given grave markers bearing only barcodes.

Staring at the black wall with only cracked eyes she found it funny that she had to work to remember her name. She could quote Shakespeare from a cultural lesson received years ago, but it was almost to much of an effort to hold onto her identity, 'Max'. Given, not 'haha' funny, but still kinda funny. It was the first time in weeks that she'd been able to get her bearings about her and she was somewhat awed by her ability to still be amused.

This was the longest she'd been left alone since she'd been brought in. She could feel with every cell in her abused eight year old body that something was changing. Minutes passed, maybe hours. Her head spun when the door finally opened, letting in light that was far too bright for her eyes. Head near lolling, she let them half drag her from her cell. She couldn't see where they were going, her eyes kept on fighting to stay closed when she blinked. There was a dull murmuring in the background, the sound of movement and speaking. Though it set a pounding in her head, she welcomed it, it was the first sound she'd heard in weeks other than her own screaming.

But God, it hurt, the brush of clothes, the hands around her arms, even the drag of her feet. Her vision was starting to dim further when the guard stopped. She could hear the opening of another door, felt it reverberating through her skull in sharp stabs. The guards let her drop inside the room, her mind fell into darkness before the door was shut behind her.

After a time she woke. She had no idea of how long she'd been out, but long enough for her body to begin healing. She'd been pushed against a wall, so that when she slowly managed to sit up she could lean back easily with her legs sprawled out before her, looking like some horribly broken doll. There was another person in the room, he stood silently as she arranged herself and schooled her features.

She finally looked up and met his eyes, her mask on perfectly. Taking him in though, she couldn't help but notice that he didn't look all that much better than her. The look he gave her was one of consideration, after a moment, he started, "You know you don't have to keep that numb look on your face all the time. Sometimes, drill, inspection, anytime we're on the field or being tested…even as beaten down as you are, short of a lobotomy you've still got that world class X-5 personality they hate so much."

"X-5 personality? "She couldn't help herself, he seemed so...sure. She wanted to talk to him, craving the conversation. Being around him, another X-5, she hadn't had that sub-conscious need filled since she was five years old.

He gave her a crooked smile, not quite a smirk, "A little too thinking, independent, rebellious. They might have been scared of escape attempts in '09, but now they're just scared we might revolt."

"Revolt?" She didn't bother hiding the disbelief in her voice as she parroted back at him.

His lips twitched closer to a smirk, "More a reaction than a revolt, you'll see." His face suddenly hardened, sterned, "Look I don't care what you're used to, but I'm not going to let you mess around here. People are going to have to depend on you or you'll be worse than useless. I get it, why you escaped I mean, but it's only gotten worse here and if you want to last more than a few weeks you have to shape up and figure out how this game is played."

"Game?" His words hit her, and suddenly she knew without a doubt that this guy would never have a problem getting her riled. An hour ago she was passing out, now she had enough energy to be offended, "What do you mean shape up? Do you think I'm some ordinary or something?"

Somewhat bemused at her temper he replied, "No, I'm saying you're out of practice and everyone else isn't. As far as the game goes that's just, things are…different, changed."

"Changed how? Tell me."

Frowning and shaking his head to clear his thoughts he looked at her seriously, "The guards…you know they can hurt us right?"

Her look was irridiculous, "Or kill us, yeah I think I caught on."

"No, I mean really. Hurt each of us physically of course, but I mean the others. They figured it out a while back. Some of us are stubborn even when we know it will land us in discipline, but we get to attached. Even since we were infants we've been learning how to take care of each other. Most of it's genetic, instinctual. The response to others in our pack being abused is to lash out or at lease comfort, but reasoning tells us that that only makes it worse, so we have to keep a hold on our own reins."

"So they really do control us now. We can't even interact with out own."

"No it's not that easy. The guards, doctors, anyone that gets too close to the project are all scared of us. By the time we get to maturity there would be no way for them to stop us if we ever stopped caring about how many of us would die if we were to revolt. They're depending on our instant to protect to keep us from fighting them. Day to day is a whole different thing. Guards try to control us, and they do, but if they push it to far we, as a group, can't stop a single transgenic from reacting and breaking a couple necks. It's starting to get worse. You haven't been around any male Xs for a while have you?"

She was starting to tire again and should her head in wonder.

"All of us are getting more territorial, but the males seem to be more in touch with it. The girls usually manage to mellow them out, so the guards haven't notice yet, but we need to be careful." Seeing her start to loose focus he hurried, "452 my designation is 494, I've been assigned as your new C.O. I'll do everything I can to make sure your okay, but I need you to work with everyone."

Despite her fading consciousness she understood the message, not just work, care, care like she did for her siblings. Looking at him, his hazel green eyes passionate in his belief and the serious set of his mouth contrasting so starkly against his thin bruised and cut face that she knew couldn't be older than ten. Meeting his gaze once more before blacking out again she nodded and said , "Yes" unable to stop the smallest beginnings of a smile she added, "…sir."

Looking at her unconscious form for a moment, 494 moved her so she lay on the on her side instead of leaning uncomfortably against the wall. She was part of his unit now.