It was dark. Church wasn't sure what he'd expected, but surely something brighter than Caboose's dingy, rusty thoughts. After all, Agent Washington generally understood what was said to him.

There were things moving in the darkness. Things that moaned and wept, and occasionally cried out with soft words of despair. After a time, a light appeared, bobbing slowly towards him. It was Wash, holding an orb of light in his cupped hands.

"This way. Hurry." His voice sounded shaky, even behind his helmet. Church nodded, realizing for the first time that he, too, was fully armored. 'interesting, but sad too, the way people can so easily accept this bulky, uncomfortable armor as a necessary part of their living selves…' The thought vanished in a second. Wash's light had fallen on a form for the merest moment, before he flinched away from the memory.

Wash paused, doubled over at the onset of the memory's anguish; Church nearly collapsed. His ears rang, and his breath seemed permanently lost. It wasn't just the pain encompassed by the vision of the wailing child. It was that the child was him. Him, after his mother had died, after his father had beaten him for 'bawling'.

His own memory of himself, sobbing for a mother who had died too suddenly, too soon. But that couldn't be, how would one of his old memories…end…up…in……

He cut that thoughtshort. He had only seen the image for a split second, after all. It might only have dredged up an old memory of his own. He straightened, then nodded at Washington, who continued walking along some path that only he knew.

"Only a little farther," he announced, to encourage himself as much as Church, it sounded.

Then it happened. The tiny pool of light touched a boot. The light seemed to flow, spreading across the figure from that point. Wash cursed, then shouted, "Run! The door is just here!" Church stumbled after him but he could still hear. Behind him, he was shrieking.

"No! No! I've already suffered every pain there is! I don't want to feel it again! Not every time I think! I want it to--"

Wash slammed the door. Then he began smudging its lines, rubbing his fingers back and forth as if it were clay. He sealed the entire wall this way. Church raised his hand to look at it, and realized that it was light here. Also that his hand was shaking so badly that it showed through the armored glove. He refused to think about what he'd heard. It was obviously just Wash's interpretation of Epsilon's last memory of the Alpha.

Wordlessly, he followed Washington to the next room. It was a well-lit hall, lined with mirrors and doors.

"The mirrors are there to remind me that I'm the only one here," Wash explained.

"What about the doors? What's behind them?"

As he looked on, the walls became transparent. Behind them people moved and laughed and talked animatedly with each other.

"These are my memories, thoughts, and everything I could hold onto to keep myself sane. There are some memories here that I…faked, I guess. I created them to nullify some of Epsilon's." His thoughts apparently called some of his 'creations', because from some of the rooms, memories did appear, walking quietly towards them. Foremost, Church recognized his mother. She was young and beautiful again. She was smiling, silver white wings sweeping from each shoulder.

"I see what you mean. Shouldn't we get on with this now, though?" He was intensely proud of himself that his voice only broke once. Wash nodded grimly. The memories vanished through the doors as they walked past.

At the end of the hall there was a large room. There was a huge screen across the wall facing them. It was blank until Wash sat down at a panel in the middle of the room. As Church looked around, he realized what it was. It was the control center, yes, but also a place devoid of emotion. The only memories here were the facts stored in the file cabinets along the back wall. It was a safe haven from Epsilon.

And then the Meta was there, in the base with them. The Wash at the controls pulled up a map, guiding his body along the route to the nearest control panel. Muttering the steps to initiate an E.M.P. under his breath, he arrived at the first door.

"It's called an 'emp'," Church reminded him. Wash ignored him and headed toward the panel. Seeing him at the controls, Church suddenly wondered: Did Caboose have a control room? Or was the reason he was so stupid have something to do with the fact that the 'Mental Caboose' seemed to have no idea that he had an outside body at all? Maybe Caboose was running on autopilot?

He surfaced from his reverie to find Wash having a conversation with some guy on the intercom.

"What're you doing?!? The Meta's on his way!"

"What? Oh…" Wash cursed again and sprinted for the panel. He was devoting most of his attention to the control pad, so only some of what the Director was saying made it through. He did make out the words, "Maine…kill…Agent Washington." The room lurched, a red haze drifted across the screen. Wash struggled with the controls and shouted amid a string of curses, "Go!"

So Church went.

His last thought before joining the Meta was a vague regret that ghosts can't give high fives.