"Introducing growth hormone Objective A

"Introducing growth hormone Objective A."

"...this is a bad idea..."

"Vital signs are stable. Time is 1837."

The anesthesiologist nodded slowly. She was far too busy concentrating on her work set before her. A small tube, descending from an IV tree, was her focus-point as she injected it with a yellowed liquid in a syringe. She chewed thoughtfully on the safe end of the syringe's cap as she worked. After injecting nearly half the fluid into the tubing, she pulled it free and capped the injection port. She pulled the cap free as she tipped the syringe just so to read off of it. "Ten milliliters were set for injection; introduced six. Four remain for the next hour."

"1838," the timekeeper said.

She capped the syringe and crossed the room, away from the medical table. A doctor followed her movements with a roll of his eyes as she passed. "Try not to be late next time," he bit. The woman blatantly ignored him, not even pausing or flinching at his words.

Another she passed by was a dark haired woman trying to adjust her scrubs to hang a little more comfortably on her body. They weren't hers, but rather the man's next to her, so they were a bit large, to say the least. That was fine though, as that was hardly her concern. She shook her head, having been the one quietly objecting a moment or so before, and took a breath to help up her bravery before she stepped forward. The small body on the table was intimidating. They had been doing so much to the small girl since they discovered her existence amidst the birth pods.

Rem Saverem, botanist and geologist by trade, turned Plant Engineer by request and through heavy training. The concept of Plants had been so well guarded, beyond the fact that they were responsible for helping maintain the Earth in times of desperation in resources, that when she learned the truth behind their engineering, she was... alarmed, to say the least. No one in the public scope realized they were actual creatures. Those who tried to declare it were shunned. But beyond that, the origin of how they were created...

Blonde hair that had lost its shine long ago was gently patted as the tired, sorrowful woman walked next to the bed. She'd tried to speak out, and it almost earned her a position in federal prison... so she did what she could to simply alleviate the poor girl. The newest generations were born, not only with the genetics originally planned, but with alterations to tie them more directly to the Earth itself. The prior brought them energy, the alterations in the new generation made them more efficient for use in less established parts of the world. They required less mechanics binding them down.

With a deep breath, Rem went to gently pull open the small girl's left eye. "Beginning initial analysis," she said quietly. No one responded to her morose demeanor; they understood her ethical issues, at least. There were times she wished they'd stop empathizing, and would start sympathizing, however...

Her fingers began to tremble as lifting that eye revealed something unexpected underneath. Normally, Tessla's eye was a soft and almost welcoming blue, absent of any and all imperfection. She was the perfect Aryan child, really--which was ironic, and later, she learned, purposeful. But that soft blue that always lit up when Rem would come--as one of the only two friendly faces the child ever got to see--had been replaced with an astonishingly burning crimson red, and was surrounded by pitch black in color, broken only by pulsating veins burning with that same red.

She started to back away; a reflex to the surprise, when the once just barely flinching girl broke to life with a shrill scream. Rem didn't have time to register the clattering of the medical tray beside the bed as Tessla leapt at inhuman speeds to grab hold of one of the scalpels, and just barely began to do so as she lunged for Rem, mouth gaping and displaying a grotesque sight of fangs. There was no time to move--she was just too fast--before the scalpel clutched by the girl that Rem tried so hard for found itself in her chest and--

With a start, the dark haired woman yelped out and found herself sitting straight in her bed. She was panting and looking around the eerie darkness frantically. It had been a dream. A recapturing of a time years ago, from something she was glad she left. Something she never wanted to return to. The wound over her right breast still burned at times, as though it was as new as the day it was delivered in that operation room. It burned then, too, and she seethed and covered it over her nightshirt with a hand.

A light pattering on her flesh caught her attention as she looked at that hand. It was slick, and wet, and wiping her other hand over her face, Rem realized she had been crying. Honestly... she wasn't too surprised. It happened every so often, unfortunately.

Underneath the heavy curtains over her windows, she saw a bright line of light. She squinted her eyes, a bit surprised, and reached over to grab her cell phone from her dresser. The time read 10:31 AM, and she sighed and flopped back in her bed. She was supposed to be up at six that morning, not ten-thirty, to open her floral shop. Fortunately, her assistant got in an hour later, so she'd take care of it, certainly. That still didn't make the workaholic much better, but she was surprised that her "auxillary alarms" hadn't floated in to grab her.

...oh, they wouldn't have. They were staying over with family friends. The only ones she could trust, for a number of reasons.

The small blue phone began to vibrate in her hands, and Rem groaned as she looked at the caller ID. The name displayed was that of her old friend, William Conrad. A former co-worker, as well. The phone was thumbed open, and pressed to her ear. "It's too early to be calling," she said, obviously sleepy but wearing a smile.

The chuckle that came from the only mildly-humored on average man was nice to hear, after such a terrible dream. "Can you meet me at the Northdale Mall, Rem?" he asked, down to business quickly as he always was. "Around two? I'll treat you to a milkshake."

Rem rubbed her face. She'd have to call and tell her assistant, but she supposed it wouldn't hurt for one day. She normally manned the floral shop six days out of the week, anyway. What was five days for once? "Sure, William, I'd be more than happy to."

"You know... we really miss you at the labs, Rem."

It was meant with the most honest-to-goodness intentions, but the dark haired woman couldn't help herself as she slumped towards the table and dropped herself against her hand. Her fingers wrapped her hair as support as she allowed her eyes to fix on the milkshake cup in front of her. Well-groomed fingers toyed with the straw gently and she just let out a small sigh. "I know," she responded, hollow and unenthused. Her company for the day probably expected more from her than that, but she really couldn't help it. How many more times did she have to tell any of them that she just wanted to have nothing to do with that job she left a year ago? It was coming to a point, she was wondering why she kept associating with them. There was danger in it, to boot, and...

The man across from her was well-dressed and was carefully holding an espresso as he watched her. Doctor William Conrad, long-time friend and former co-worker of hers, looked legitimately regretful for the comment. "...ah." The espresso was gently set on the food court table and he cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry."

A sigh escaped her, and she offered him a small smile to comfort him. She wasn't really that mad at him. "...I just... I do too, but I still haven't completely come to grips with everything that happened there."

"I know," he responded. He tapered off for a moment as his eyes fell onto a group of kids celebrating a birthday at the large, colorful mall. They danced and laughed and ran about with balloons and stuffed animals and streamers, while their parents and chaparones desperately tried to keep them under control. "Sometimes, I wonder why I have."

"That's easy," Rem said. The accompanying chuckle startled Conrad's attention back on her, and she squinted her eyes playfully. Her milkshake was used as a means to point at him at an obnoxiously close distance. "You're more mature than me, that's why. You're a big boy, of course."

Conrad let out a chuckle then in turn, and shook his head. "So, when are you going to invite me to your new home?" A pause was made, and then he continued with a mock-scowl. "Of course, saying 'new home' is being gracious to you."

Rem cringed and went to sucking on her milkshake straw. He had a point. She had yet to invite any of them to the place she moved to after hauling out of the compound, and that had been exactly a year ago. But she had a good reason behind it, even if she couldn't exactly stress why. It was tempting, each time she met up with him. Conrad was a good man, and she did trust him, but there were just some things she couldn't risk. Even with him. That was a hard lesson learned a year ago, and he probably wouldn't have blamed her if he knew anything at all.

"Ah. I'm thinking about moving again," she said with a small shift in the hips; she was preparing to stand. "So probably not for a while yet until I make my decision about that." That was far from the truth, but anything to keep from having to just blatantly say 'no' and sound like a complete bitch that didn't want him in her home.

The silent gesture was enough for him, and he was standing more quickly than she, and tugging his jacket off the back of the chair in time with his espresso off the table. "You're terrible at lying, Rem," he remarked with a glint of humor in his eyes.

She caught that glint, too, and leapt to her feet quicker and scowled at him. "I'm not lying, you know. People do like a change of scenery!"

"After all the hard work you told me you put into your garden, Rem?"

...she hated that man sometimes. And it was written on her face in the same scowl as before, but with a silent denotion of being caught. "...see, the other day, I--"

"--blew up the toilet? Rem, considering the work we do, I seriously doubt that would be the worst sight or smell I'd ever have to deal with."

He offered his coffee-armed arm out to her to link, and Rem pouted as she swung her arm around the offered to her. "Okay, you can just shut up now."

"I can't," Conrad said. He pulled her into a walk gently, and with a squeak of tennis shoes, Rem clomped off beside him. "I actually need to speak with you about something important now that I've quite obviously buttered you up into being compliant via milkshakes."

Rem didn't respond; she just looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, before taking a sarcastic slurp of her freezing drink, much like a spoiled child. It was completely in jest, and for a moment he grinned in return, before suddenly drawing quite sober. The sudden shift made her furrow her brow, and her eyes focused ahead of her. Still, though, she said nothing to allow for him to speak.

"Do you remember the Tessla project?" It was such a redundant question, and the only answer he needed was a clenching of her arm around his. Her mouth fixed around her straw, and her eyes went to the floor. "They don't stop."

Rem still didn't respond.

"They can come back."

Rem shook her head and muttered quickly, "Are you that amazed, considering what they are?" before she pulled herself away from him quickly. He didn't even get an opportunity to object to her pulling from him. "I don't want--I need to go, William."

"Rem--" He reached after her, taking steps towards her to stop her. Obviously, he hadn't banked on her reacting quite that way. "You--"

"Please don't involve me," she said as she started away from him. An escalator was in that direction, and down below, the parking garage to the large mall. She had to stop for a moment as that birthday party entourage stampeded past, and she watched them somberly as she spoke over her shoulder. "I'm... sorry that things are probably going to not go very well for the Structure, but I left for a reason, and I just don't want to be apart of that now. I don't want to know. Don't talk to me about it. They'll know. She'll know. And I can't afford that, so... please, William."

Conrad squinted an eye and bit his lip. Of course she was right. They were designed to be just as clever and powerful in that respect as their models--the true ones--were. But unfortunately, it seemed as though Rem forgot one thing, as she skirted away from him. It made his stomach drop inside just a little, as he muttered to himself morethan anything, "...she's already involved you, Rem. Why won't you stop running from it when you know you can't?"

Of course, Rem didn't hear a thing out of him. She was already on the escalator as he finished muttering, and her hands found themselves in her hair on each side of her head, embracing her skull as she tried to clear her mind. Why did he do that? Rem understood, even though she didn't hear his final words, that she was involved whether she liked it or not. It wasn't something she would be able to ever escape. The gaping scar on her chest and two very important people to her life assured that. The most immediate of the reminders was that scar, which felt as though it was palpitating through her chest and reaching her spine. She could still breathe fairly well, but she greeted the end of the escalator ride with a stumbling into a power walk, through a couple talking, and right out the revolving glass doors that lead to the the parking garage. She was getting out of there as soon as she possibly could, and to the house of her friend. The sooner she could get there and talk it out with her friend and her friend's husband, she conceded, the better things would end for the day.

If she just didn't think about it, it'd go away.

The comment that came from above her gave her a bit of a start, for no other reason than she hadn't expected a voice descending from above. Rem had pulled up to the side of the front fountain to her friend's large home, and got out without a problem leaving her windows down and her doors unlocked. It was, after all, a gated and private property. It was absolutely gorgeous; the home of her friend's family, passed down and down since they first came to the United States in the colonial era. She could remember coming to visit a lot before graduation. Her friend's parents were hardly about, often too busy traveling for business reasons, so it was often just her best friend and the house help, an elderly staff of sweet men and women devoted to her.

But that was a long time ago... over twelve years ago, and her friend had since dismissed the entire staff following the deaths of her parents, funding them into a comfortable retirement. All house maintenance, with the exception of a few things here and there, were handled by her friend and her husband alone...

Which was why the comment from a nearby tree shouldn't have startled her. It wasn't even a malicious comment. It was just, "Well, here comes the tree hugger," snarked from above.

She jolted a little and looked up with wide eyes to find her friend's husband sitting in the tree with what looked to be duct tape. He was a large man of about six-seven and well over two hundred pounds, with... well, white hair and red eyes. He tried to insist on platinum blond and an awkward brown to outsiders, but it just wasn't so. Their sons had that same white hair, but shared the same charming blue eyes of their mother. "Hello, Antonio," Rem said with a small smile. "What are you doing up there?"

"Not tree hugging." The comment seemed mean as hell, but his small smile showed he was joking with her. He pushed from his seat and reached up to start taping a cracking branch into place. "Dante got ahold of one of my guns and apparently figured that firing it at fire crackers would be a good idea."

Rem's eyes widened, and she skirted around the tree, her eyes falling upon a large scorch mark ripping up the side of the tree. At least hers didn't... Rubbing at her cheek, she replied, "I'm sure Eva tried to kill him."

"Tried to beat him blind," Antonio replied with a huff. "I didn't give her the chance though."

Antonio, despite his size and initial attitude, was such a soft and doting parent. Never the disciplinarian, he did absolutely everything he could to keep his wife from spanking either of their twin sons, Dante and Vergil. It was cute, and Rem didn't necessarily disagree. Of course, she had to deal with a similar situation on her own, and they were nothing but complete angels. "I'm glad for th--"

"Rem!" Angel one.

"Rem!" Angel two.

"Rem, guess what?!" And one again.

Turning to the massive front doors to the mansion, Rem was greeted by two bright-eyed little boys bounding out for her. Both wore jeans, and one wore a soft blue sweater while the other wore a green t-shirt. The more excited of the boys was in the blue sweater, and running ahead of the other as he flailed a book around. The somber smile on her face from before was quickly replaced with a bright, legitimate one and she dropped to her knees and held her arms open wide. "Well, look who it is." She said it with a giggle, and was barely affected as Antonio dropped down from his perch in the tree.

The more excited one, Knives, crashed into her arms on her left-most side, and the other, Vash, was quick to leap to her right side. "Rem, Rem, this is so neat!" Knives said as he opened the book to a double-paged splay of symbols. "Mrs. La Spada showed us these! Look, look, aren't they cool?"

Rem cocked her head around to be able to view the page. The symbols made absolutely no sense, but she fathomed they wouldn't. She was a scientist; Eva La Spada was a demonologist. Rem taught all four boys science, Eva taught them literature and religion, and Antonio--when he could be goaded away from his normal affairs to help--taught them history. It was a mutual agreement of tutelage; special arrangements set for special boys. Boys who had more than proven to be far more intelligent than most adults. "What are they, Knives?"

Vash was the one to answer, tilting the book so he could view it upside down. "He means this one, specifically, Rem." His hand tapped a symbol of lines and circles. "It's the symbol of someone named Metatron. For some reason he thinks it's cool."

"You think that Alastor demon is cool," Knives replied with a scowl.

Vash stared at him from his side of Rem's arms with a blank look, as though he had been just caught dead doing something msichevious... before he closed his eyes and smiled brightly. "Yeah, I do. But only because his name sounds like something Rem would like."

Rem chuckled at that and gently urged them off of her, and as they stumbled away from the movement, Vash nabbed the book. Knives yelped and reached after it with a declaration of, "H-Hey! Vash, let me show her something else!" But no response came from the other brother, as he snickered and turned on a heel, taking off in Antonio's direction. Knives huffed and ran after him, and in their place of Rem's eyeshot, another boy caught her eye.

He looked to be the same age as Vash and Knives, and was well-kept with small glasses on his face. He too clutched a book, old and strained, and he gave her a polite smile. "Hello, Ms. Saverem," he said with a small bow of respect.

"Vergil, how're you today?" Rem asked as she pushed up to her feet to go over to him.

He nodded again. "I'm very good, thank you. Mom's in the study upstairs, if you want to see her."

"Thank you very much, Vergil." She paused in her standing up to assure that Vash and Knives were indeed harassing Antonio, who looked all too amused, before she started to the large entry.

The brunette was intending to just pass him by, and head on up to the location she was all too familiar with, when she just got beyond him and heard his shy voice once more. "...they're with you." The words were so sudden, and really... so out of place, Rem stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. He was lurched over his book, clutched tight to his chest, and he was gazing over his shoulder at her. "You should go away before you get us hurt." With an insecure ruffle of his own white hair, the little boy took off towards his father with quick feet.

Rem's eyes were as wide as saucers, as she watched him dart from the stairs of the entry. That was so alarming, she didn't move for quite a time. After learning of Tessla, that wasn't something she particularly wanted to hear. ...of couse, Vergil and Dante had their reasons to be a bit awkward and dark. He might've just been getting something crossed over, and being so confused, mistook it to be involving her.

...she made note to ask Eva, as she entered the house on trembling knees.