So this takes place in Death Sentence when Zee, Simon, and Ozzie try to kill Alex with the pillow, except from Zee's POV. My first EFF fanfiction, but hopefully not my last; these books are too good to have so little fanfiction!

Hope you enjoy!

"You okay?" Zee asked Simon as he and Ozzie found him tied to a bed in the infirmary. "Quick, cut the straps."

Simon babbled something unintelligible and Ozzie started sawing away at the leather straps. Zee moved closer to Simon. "Do you know where Alex is being kept?"

As he turned towards the smaller boy, Simon's eyes were a little hazy, but they seemed to clear a little as he focused on the question. "When we first got here, I think they put him there." He nodded to the compartment right next door.

Zee immediately started to move in that direction, his heart pounding in his ears. He prayed to whatever deity could hear them in this hellhole that they would find Alex quickly and in one peace, but as he pushed past the screen and into the next cubicle, he stopped dead in his tracks. Because behind the scars and grotesque muscles of the creature strapped to the wall was an unmistakable face.

Alex.

Before Zee could even properly panic at the sight of his mutated best friend, Alex snapped his head towards where Zee was standing and let loose a growl that chilled him to the bone. He scrambled back through the curtain and noted faintly that Simon was now free of his restraints. He wordlessly motioned for him and Ozzie to follow him, ignoring their question looks.

Seeing him this time, Zee couldn't look away from what his best friend had become. Everything except Alex's torso and face had been changed to that of a blacksuit and the effect was bizarre and horrifying. Beside him he could feel Simon shaking his head in disbelief. Zee knew that he himself must have looked horribly shocked as well.

"Jesus," Zee said, the word getting stuck in his throat. He anxiously ran a hand through his hair.

"We've got to go," Ozzie said urgently. "Wheezers'll be back any minute."

Zee walked forward, staring at Alex with eyes filled with sorrow. Maybe if Alex saw him clearly or listened to him he would remember . . .

But before he could get much closer, Alex yanked at his chains and snarled threateningly. Zee recoiled and he knew that the two behind him had as well.

"Simon, what do we do?" Ozzie asked. "Can we get him out?"

"No," Simone answered. Zee could just detect a tremor in his otherwise steely voice. "He's too far gone. Look at him, for Christ's sake. I've never seen that much nectar hooked in to the vein."

It was true, Zee realized. While the other patients had two, maybe three, I.V.s pumping nectar into their system, Alex was surrounded by them. Zee wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, it meant that he had been resisting and was causing the warden and his cronies some trouble, which made Zee proud of his defiant best friend. But on the other, it meant he had little chance of regaining his identity. Still, there had to be some way . . .

Zee abruptly remembered Alex pressing a pillow to the barely recognizable face of Donovan not so long ago. He remembered him repeating the mantra "You're free" over and over as they sobbed together. Suddenly Zee knew what he had to do.

He'd be damned if he'd leave his best friend to become a monster in this prison they'd tried so hard to escape.

"We can't leave him," he said softly yet firmly. He paused as he saw Alex study his face, something flickering behind his silver eyes. The thought of those eyes—the eyes of a blacksuit—spurred him back into action before he could lose his resolve.

Zee slipped back into Simon's cubicle and grasped the dirty pillow with shaking hands.

Simon looked at him through hollow eyes as he returned to them. Alex tried to turn, but failed, though somehow Zee was sure he knew exactly what was going on. Ozzie just looked confused.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His eyes suddenly widened as the implications of the pillow and his companions stony and pale faces hit him. "You're not going to—"

"Ozzie, shut up," Simone snapped. "It's the only thing we can do. He's gone."

Ignoring the sting that the words brought him, Zee stepped towards Alex, who immediately started thrashing. Keeping his eyes on the misshaped form of his best friend, Zee could see the terror and rage which fueled the guttural roar that emerged from Alex. Zee forced himself to keep going.

"Alex, are you in there?" he asked. "Because if you are, then you have to let me know, right now."

Alex growled and launched himself against his bonds, looking identical to Donovan when the same—but different—scene had been playing out. Zee swallowed, feeling like he had buried his heart, condemning it to never see light again, not even the suffocating lights of Furnace. He hadn't looked away from Alex yet and could see the hate and bloodlust all too clearly in his fake eyes. Zee knew that, had Alex been unrestrained, he would not have hesitated to kill them all.

"Jesus, Zee, hurry up. I can hear them coming."

Half-heartedly acknowledging Simon's warning, Zee barely caught the flicker of recognition that crossed Alex's face before the pillow covered it up.

It wasn't long before Alex started panicking and rebelling against the pillow pressed to his face. Zee closed his eyes and leaned as hard as he could into the pillow.

"I'm sorry," he half-sobbed. "Forgive me, Alex."

But before his crime could be completed—yes, crime, Zee told himself, because he was still killing a person, and somewhere deep beneath the monster he had become, that person was his best friend—Zee heard a distant wheeze that froze his blood.

"Oh God, they're here," Simon said, his voice thick. Zee frantically pushed harder on the pillow, but Simon snapped, "Let it go! We have to leave!"

"We can't just leave him here to become— to become one of them!" Zee shot back, his voice hoarse. When it looked like Simon had every intention of doing just that, Zee desperately added, "He helped you guys plan the escape! You'd still be sitting in that cave it weren't for him!"

"Yeah, well, that'd be better than this!" Simon growled. Zee flinched, knowing he was right. The sound of the wheezers grew closer, just proving Simon's point more. How had things gone so wrong?

Struggling to stay calm, Zee retorted, "There's still a little time! We can—"

"No, there isn't." Startled at being cut off, Zee looked at Ozzie, who was peering through the curtains into the rest of the infirmary. The small boy turned back to them, dread in his eyes. "It's too late."

Before Zee or Simon could react, a wheezer descended on them. It wrapped its claw-like fingers around Simon's neck as it kicked Ozzie, knocking him to the ground. In the next second it had grabbed Zee by the scruff and yanked him away from Alex, who looked understandably dazed as the pillow fell to the ground. Struggling, Zee tried to fight out of the wheezer's clutches, but its grip was too strong.

Distantly he was aware of Ozzie on the floor screaming "It's too late" over and over again. It reminded Zee of Alex's chant of "You're free" and he almost laughed at the irony.

Then a river of tall figures in black suits rushed in and he knew no more.