Beeping noises would annoy anyone, anywhere, after a while. Maxine was no exception. Quite contrary; she knew the frustration of the noise better than most people probably did. Constantly hooked up to machines, passing through doors only by the permission of a scientist's identification card, monitored in sleep by countless cameras, recorders, and devices meant to measure her body's activity.

It usually faded into the background, forgotten and unnoticeable. But on occasion she'd notice, and find herself squeezing her ears between her hands in a bid to block out the maddening noise. It wasn't ever truly quiet around her. Would it be better if it were, or worse, she wondered?

At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to yank the electrodes from her forehead, smash in the beeping machine they were connected to, and make a run for it before any of the armed military officers could even blink. But then her parents would be in danger. And what were the chances she'd actually make it? The scientists always said she wasn't strong enough to make it on her own, abilities or not.

Sometimes she wondered if she was stupid to let them keep her locked up in a military bunker. The obvious answer, of course, would be yes, but it wasn't that simple. She was heavily guarded. The bunker was made to keep her in. They could take her parents out any time they liked. She had limits.

"Max, pay attention." Jefferson snapped at her, his usually professional façade falling for a moment as he sent her a warning look.

Originally, she'd liked Jefferson. He treated her more like a person than the other scientists did. Rather, he did, at first. He quickly became consumed in his research on her, his need for information and results growing until he'd lost any feeling for her. In the end, he'd become just short of aggressive with her at any given point. Nowadays, she did her best to just keep her head down and do what he said to get things over with as quickly as possible.

"I know that you're getting tired of repeating this exercise, but it's a necessary check in. You know this." He reasoned, pulling things from his pocket. Max mustered as much interest as she could for the objects, memorizing their details with almost careless laziness. Jefferson wasn't impressed.

She raised her hand, taking a bracing breath before focusing. The sensation that she couldn't quite explain, sort of like every muscle in her body was tensing at once, flared up. As usual, she pushed past it and began to warp time-space, waiting till Jefferson had replaced the items in his pockets to put her hand down and release her small grip on the fabric of the universe.

"-tting tired of repeating-" He was saying again. She interrupted.

"Your I.D. card, a green mechanical pencil with point seven lead, a cleaning cloth for your glasses, and a micro SD card from a digital camera." She listed off, planting her chin in her palm to prop herself up on the table. It was a little too tall a table for it to be comfortable, but oh well.

"Very good, Max, but I don't appreciate the attitude. That'll be all for today." Jefferson concluded, though he still looked relatively peeved. His patience for what he'd once called her 'spunk' had been waning lately. Where once she could get in a few sarcastic jibes, he was quick to backhand her at the mere glimmer of attitude.

Max was quick to pull herself free and beat a hasty retreat. She didn't hesitate outside the door, knowing a guard would follow her either way. Sure enough, footsteps sounded behind her as she went down the hall, waiting at each checkpoint for the guard to scan their card. Each beeping confirmation made her cringe, but she didn't say anything, going into her room wordlessly when they arrived. She heard the heavy locks sliding into place as she was left alone (though always under surveillance) and sighed as she collapsed on the bed.

Time passed without value while she had her face pressed into the blankets. If she stayed there long enough, would they think she'd suffocated herself? It'd provide a little excitement, if nothing else.

"Maxine?"

Sure enough, a voice came over the intercom. Jefferson.

"Max, if you can hear me, you need to get up. It's too early for you to go to sleep."

This 'checking in' only irritated her further. Everything had been irritating her lately. Every time they made her do something, it only made her wish she could do just the opposite. Just to be spiteful.

But then, she might also get in trouble. And she didn't feel like getting a 'lecture.' The last one was still healing.

She rolled over, reaching idly for her guitar as she sat up. It'd taken a lot of arguing, but she'd finally convinced the scientists to let her keep the present that her parents had brought her for her tenth birthday. It was one of the early years in the base, shortly before she'd been moved into the bunker, when they still visited for every holiday. It hadn't gone over well, but it was eventually decided that it wouldn't be too much of a risk, and would provide her with something to do with her free time other than cry or bang her head on the wall.

There were stacks upon stacks of CDs and music books that she'd pored over, spending her years memorizing more songs than she could probably count. Her fingers naturally began picking out familiar melodies, softly strumming as she hummed absentmindedly.

For her, it was normalcy. It was her everyday. She knew that it wasn't the way other people lived. She also knew that she'd never escape. Why let herself hope? Other people got to be proper teenagers, like the ones from the movies she sometimes got treated to. Other people didn't spend their days constantly monitored and guarded.

Other people couldn't rewind time.

She wished, as she had more times in her life than she'd blinked, probably, that she'd never said anything to her parents. At the time, what else could she do? She was eight years old, a sheltered child, and able to go back in time. Of course she'd gone to her parents.

It'd taken a few psychologists and a monitored room to discover that she was telling the truth. Watching a little girl teleport around a room would convince just about anyone that she had some sort of control over time-space.

After that, it'd been bases, then bunkers, always more security than wherever she'd come from. Even though she'd never given them a reason to fear her, she was often escorted at gunpoint. She'd once made the mistake of trying to play a prank on a scientist and had been shot in the arm without a second thought. The scar served as a reminder, peeking out under the sleeves of the t-shirts she was given to wear.

A beep from her left signaled that someone was entering the room, and Max set her guitar aside in preparation. Nathan Prescott stood in the door. The clock in the hallway behind him informed her that a few hours had passed since she'd returned. She spent only a split second gathering this information before her eyes darted back to Nathan and began taking in details, searching for red flags.

Nathan Prescott was in a similar situation; He too had some sort of ability. Max wasn't allowed to know what. However, he was also the son of a high ranking military officer, so he got some special leniencies. Like the freedom to roam the bunker throughout most of the day, only forced to return to his room at night. It was ironic, because he was far more unstable than Max, and she'd heard on occasion that he'd lashed out and hurt a few of the guards. Goes to show how far influence will get you in life.

It was bizarre, though, for him to be coming into Max's room. They weren't really allowed to have contact outside of what the scientists facilitated. She was sure that someone would come over the intercom any moment and tell him that he needed to leave.

She was starting to hope so, because her search for red flags had been more than fruitful. Dilated pupils, heavy breathing, dodgy eye contact, clenching and unclenching fists, was that blood on his shirt? His nose was bleeding.

"Nathan?" She finally hissed, darting to her feet and taking a step back, unsure if she ought to approach the intruder. He didn't make any move toward her, though. Another red flag; Nathan was usually a very 'in-your-face' sort of person.

"They're going to kill us." He blurted abruptly. Max blinked, brows furrowing as she looked him up and down, as if he might be carrying something that might help her better understand. No such luck.

"What?" She demanded, hesitating between a step forward and a step back.

"I was eavesdropping. They're doing it today." He said, voice wavering between too soft and much too loud. Almost to himself: "They're scared of us, think we're too getting too fucking powerful. I saw Jefferson pull the doses."

Max swallowed. This was crazy. She'd always thought Nathan was. He'd been nothing but unpleasant to her the few times they'd interacted. Beyond that, they were being studied and trained to use their abilities to the advantage of the military. Why on earth would they kill their own weapons?

But then, what good did it do Nathan to lie to her? It seemed far-fetched that he'd risk getting in trouble just to pull the wool over her eyes. And he was definitely splattered in blood. And it was much too quiet. Where were the alarms? Where were the guards? Where was Jefferson?

"I took out the guards manning the security system. I'm getting the fuck out of here." He concluded, glancing at her fleetingly once more before turning and bolting down the hall.

Max stared after him, mouth slightly agape, still frozen as she had been while Nathan spoke to her. Her mind raced to process the information, still torn between trusting Nathan and fearing punishment. This could all be a test to see if she was obedient enough. If she waited, she might be rewarded.

Or she might be dead.

Finally, she snapped into action, heading for the door. She spared the room a glance, biting her lip as she parted with her scarce possessions. Only a moment, though, for the alarms finally kicked on, and kicked her into gear. She tore down the hallways that she knew, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She came up short as she realized that her mental map of the bunker ended long before the exit.

At a fork, her head whipped painfully fast to look at each hallway. Grimacing, she went left, desperately hoping luck was on her side. Especially since she could hear thundering footsteps behind her, warning her of the incoming armed guards.

No such luck, she found, as she rammed into a door that led to a cafeteria. A dead end. The guards were right behind her. She had to rewind.

It made her head ache, but she sprinted back while urging time to follow suit, gasping as the strain overwhelmed her and she lost her hold, time resuming around her. She kept running, this time to the right.

Her lungs burned, but she blindly ran forward, picking directions at random. It seemed that fate was going to show her the first kindness she'd seen in a long time, though. She never thought she'd be so overwhelmingly relieved to see Nathan Prescott. With a very small use of her ability, she caught up to him, and they darted around corners as quickly as they could together.

Still, the military guards were faster, and were gaining on them quickly. Max only barely kept her balance as the sound of a bullet whizzing by startled her. But they were so close. She could see the door that was freedom. Nathan sprinted ahead of her, slamming against the door. He ripped a handful of freshly bloodstained ID cards from a pocket and began swiping them one by one. Each yielded the same negative result, and were discarded without thought.

The guards rounded the corner. The bullets got too close for comfort. Snatching up the cards on the ground, Max grit her teeth and rewound to before Nathan had begun swiping the ID cards. When she released her control, he pulled the few remaining IDs from his pocket, swiping through the entire pile. Still no clearance. Max's heart felt like it was pumping pure ice instead of blood.

Nathan caught her eye. The guards were only a second away.

"Close your eyes." He commanded.

Max, for once in her life, overcame her nosy nature, and didn't open her eyes again until she felt Nathan yank on her arm. Her eyes went wide as they focused. The room was littered with the bodies of the guards, every one bleeding out heavily through gaping wounds. Not a one so much as twitched.

There are some things that a person will never forget seeing. Max was confident this would be one of them. It was horrific, but she forced herself to look away, turning instead to the door. She didn't have time to feel guilty yet. She had to finish escaping.

Max wondered what sort of ability Nathan had. It allowed him to kill all of the guards and collect their IDs in a matter of seconds. She could see why they were scared of him. But then, couldn't she be just as frightening? If she wanted to, she could do terrible things too. It was her choice not to that made her different than Nathan.

Finally, one of the cards received clearance, and the door slid open. Real sunshine flooded the small room. Max couldn't even remember what real sunshine looked like. It was so beautiful. Her first glimpse of sky was a brilliant blue, wisping away at the bottom into violets and pinks. It stained her vision, just as memorable as the bodies but in an entirely different way. She didn't have time to stare, though; the door was already sliding shut. Nathan Prescott was on the other side. Max had to take it at a run, but she cleared the door just as it closed. She spared the entrance to the bunker only one glance before racing off after Nathan.

They'd neglected to anticipate the guards outside, a foolish move. Bullets rained upon them yet again. The only hope was to run, and they stayed as close as they could without risking a collision. Too many bullets streaked right by her ears, a few catching the ends of her hair and shearing off chunks.

Somehow, though, it seemed like they were going to make it. If they could just get through the fence. It was locked, but when she'd turned back after sparing a fearful glance at the guards still firing after them she found that Nathan had obliterated the lock entirely, a gaping hole in its place. Just like the guards. No time.

She turned to run through, but in the same second she saw a bullet pass straight through Nathan's head, his body crumpling to the ground.

For a moment, she considered leaving him. He'd been downright rotten to her. He'd made her already miserable existence slightly more miserable. He'd killed all those guards. What right did he have, even if they were trying to kill him? Shouldn't he try to be better than them?

But then, he'd saved her. He could have escaped by himself. He would have had a head start. It would have been totally different. He might have made it out without a scratch. But he'd stopped to warn Max. He'd helped her find the exit. He'd even spared her from watching him kill the guards, the only thing that could have been worse than seeing the aftermath.

Wasn't he just another victim of circumstance? Another scared teenager that had frightening abilities they didn't ask for, locked away and treated like a science experiment?

Time froze for a moment as she found a grip on reality and willed it backwards. She kept going till Nathan returned to his feet in an unsettling backwards rendition of his deadweight falling, blood seeping back into the wound before it disappeared altogether. She kept going for a moment longer, then let go and shoved Nathan through the gate, stumbling after him while narrowly avoiding the same bullet that would have killed him.

A few more bullets sailed in their general direction, but they'd made it. Even as they took to the forest, lungs and legs on fire, Max couldn't help but allow herself a small smile in celebration. It fell as she struggled to keep up with Nathan. He was fast. But he eventually ran out of stamina and collapsed to the ground when they'd come to a heavily wooded area.

Max fell to her knees beside him, her breathing just as labored. There was no point trying to talk, they could hardly even breathe. And it stayed that way for minutes. Then she started shaking, body crashing from adrenaline. Even so, she looked to Nathan, taking in for the first time his state.

"Oh my god, your nose is bleeding." She gasped dumbly. It was an understatement. The front of his shirt was mostly red, some dried around his mouth and chin. It was still wet close to his nose.

"No fucking shit. Looked down recently?" He wondered. Max did just that, noticing that she too had a red stain forming at the collar of her shirt. It was nowhere near as big as Nathan's, and when she wiped her nose on her arm it flaked away rather than smearing.

"I think you should take it easy." She cautioned. If it was the same for him, and it seemed that it was, then his nose was bleeding because he was overusing his ability. He scoffed.

Sensing the conversation was over, she resumed her self-checkup, examining from her shoulders to the tips of her fingers. She read over the medical wristband that had her name and some numbers written down. With some effort, she ripped it off, tossing it aside. She didn't need it anymore. They didn't own her.

Escaping had been gone surprisingly well. She almost wished she'd tried sooner. Maybe she could have been free years ago? Why hadn't she tried?

Her gasp drew Nathan's attention, and he didn't seem surprised when she began panicking about her parents. He didn't seem sympathetic either.

"T-They're going to kill them!" She cried again, as if to emphasize this to him. He rolled his eyes, as if she'd said something trivial. As if it was annoying that she was worried.

"They're already dead." He dismissed.

She considered punching him in the face, but decided he'd been dealt enough damage already.

"How could you say something so horrible?" She demanded, eyes watery.

"Because it's true. You think it's a coincidence they haven't visited in over a year? Last time they visited they got escorted right out your door and into the morgue with enough poison in their veins to take out five grown fucking men. It's done. Get over it. I'm not staying here. You can follow me till we find somewhere safer, if you want. But we're not sticking together." He warned.

Max wanted to just curl up and cry until she couldn't anymore, then maybe sleep for a few hours, and cry some more. But she didn't have time to mourn at the moment. If she lost Nathan, then she would be alone in a world she didn't know anything about anymore. She couldn't risk that. She'd have to grieve later.

They resumed running, jogging this time to preserve their waning energy. They didn't talk, but that was fine. It allowed them to focus on their surroundings. They had to be on alert for pursuers, but it was also their first time experiencing anything outside of military bunkers in many years. They sky changed colors before their eyes, animals scurried across their path, trees shook in the wind. It was all whimsy and grace, and Max wished she could indulge in sensation. She knew better, though. She'd be more likely to have time for that later if she kept running.

True to his word, Nathan parted her company as soon as they found the first signs of civilization. They'd passed a few farms, eventually finding a neighboring town. They came to a stop at the outskirts, and turned to face each other. They stared at one another briefly, and Max decided to make her peace with Nathan Prescott in that moment.

"Good luck." She bid, sounding braver in the face of being alone than she felt. Nathan's lips twitched a moment as if he had considered smiling, but it never came, and he responded with silence. Max understood, though. She let him pick a direction, then went in the opposite one.

A sense of urgency kept her walking in search of some form of transportation. She knew she needed to get further away. This town would be one of the first places she was searched for, seeing as it was the first one they'd stumbled across. She needed to get out before that happened. But her eyes wandered, taking in all of the strange nuances of the real world.

She had a basic grasp on things from movies. It was a treat that she'd been allowed only because the scientists claimed she needed to have at least an idea what was out there in case she ever wound up on the field. The movies were all prescreened and censored for content, but she had always watched with rapt attention, clinging to the one thread of society dangled within her reach.

Still, it was different to see it in person. It had been ten years since she'd been outside. Her memories of cars and streets and buildings and shops were fuzzy at best. She observed people as unobtrusively as she could, watching what they did to see if it was of any use to her. Could she get a car? She didn't know how to drive, though. And didn't you need a card to do that? She didn't have any IDs. She got the distinct feeling it wouldn't do to try and get one either.

But surely there were ways to get around without a car. How did one get on a train or an airplane? Where could she even find one? It was starting to dawn on her that she was going to have to ask someone for help.

Who could she trust, though? How much should she tell them? Would they help her?

She couldn't just wait to be found, though. She just had to do it. No time to think.

"U-Um, could you tell me… How to… I need to-" The woman she'd stopped was giving her a funny look, and Max lost her nerve, escaping into an alley. It took her a while to work up the nerve to try again. In the time it took, she'd walked around and learned as much as she could about her situation. A newspaper informed her of her location, and she watched a small group of people get into a bus. She'd forgotten about buses.

Looking at the sign, she learned where the main station was, and finally worked up the nerve to try asking for help again. With more direction, it came out easier.

"Please, could you tell me how to get to that bus station?" She asked, pointing the sign out to the man that had been walking by. He glanced at it, and then her, scrutinizing both briefly before turning.

"Walk up this street four blocks, go right, then walk another six blocks." He offered. He didn't wait to make sure that she had heard, walking off quickly.

How much was a block? All she could do was walk, turning right at some point and hoping she'd gotten lucky. Thirty minutes later, though, and she still wasn't even sure how many blocks she'd walked. And she hadn't seen anything that indicated itself as a bus station.

Another woman offered her a new set of directions. She'd gone much too far. She was now nearly twenty blocks away from the station. That helped her gauge the distance. The next time she asked for guidance, the woman offered to just walk her to the station, since it was so close. Two minutes later, she was nervously looking around what was apparently her destination.

Habit dictated that she look around, and she found all the exits and a display with maps to be the only things of real interest. Well, that and a case displaying food. It was sealed with a window, though, so she couldn't get to any of it. She did take a map, though, locating herself on it.

When she went up to the counter, it was with the map in tow. She smoothed it out on the counter, then pointed to the squiggly shape as far away from her current squiggly shape as was possible without running into the blue she knew represented the ocean. It was labeled Maine.

"I need to go here. Now, if it's possible." She explained.

The lady behind the counter looked unimpressed, glancing between the map and Max a few times.

"I can get you to L.A. or Portland." She replied. Max's brows furrowed.

"U-Uh, which one is further?" She stuttered, her foggy knowledge of geography failing her.

Again, the same look.

"L.A. More expensive, too."

The fact that she'd forgotten that the real world revolved around paper currency came crashing down on Max, and her face fell. How was she going to get anywhere without money? How was she going to get money?

The woman sighed loudly. Loud enough that it snapped Max out of her thoughts. She made to beat a retreat, but before she could take a step, the woman slid a piece of paper under the glass dividing them. Max looked at it, realizing that it was the ticket she needed to get on the bus.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have-"

"I know you don't. I used to have a guy that beat on me. Sometimes you just gotta run." She said, nodding as Max took the ticket. "There's a lost and found 'round that corner. Take anything that you can use, no one's coming for that shit. There's a bathroom over that way too. You should clean up. The bus'll be here in twenty."

Max wasn't sure how to feel about the kindness, but she knew she'd been shown a great amount, so she thanked the woman graciously before doing as she was told.

The 'lost and found' was filled with an assortment of objects she could only label as random. But she managed to salvage a long sleeved shirt that was only a few sizes too big for her when she buttoned it over the one she was still wearing from the bunker. She also found a soft blue scarf, a few packages of abandoned food, and a small bag to store them in. This all went into the small bathroom with her.

When she emerged, she'd cleaned as much of the grime off herself as she could. All she could do from there was sit and anxiously wait for the bus to come, praying that it did before anyone could find her. When it did pull up, she leapt to her feet, scurrying for the door.

"Be careful in L.A. Get out of there fast as you can. Place like that'll spit you out worse than you are now. Good luck." The woman called, popping her head out of the little office area to speak to her. Max waved, then boarded the bus. After an awkward exchange with the driver involving her ticket (rather, her failure to produce it upon boarding) she had safely seated herself near the back. A few other people got on, but none of them said a word to her. In fact, none of them even spared her a glance.

When the bus began moving, she felt safe for the first time in… Well, she was probably safer than she'd ever been. Even with the military surely after her, she was at least poison free and her location was of yet unknown. If she could avoid them long enough, she could probably fade away from history quietly. She was on the right track.

It didn't take long for her to eat her way through the snacks she'd procured, and she was definitely still hungry. But she knew she could survive for days without food. It wasn't her top priority. She could get food when the bus stopped. For now, distance was more important.

A/N: Hello, possible readers. Welcome to my twisted mind. This is the sort of thing I think about as I'm showering and falling asleep at night. Sweet dreams kids.

But honestly, I've been furiously writing on this for weeks, and finally decided to get the first chapter up. I try to stay three chapters ahead of myself, so I can keep some semblance of an update schedule, so I can promise that the first four chapters will come out regularly. We'll see how long I can keep that up… Heh.

Sorry for the much dreaded chapter of exposition, but the story does pick up in the next one. Chloe is introduced too, which I figure is an important part of a Pricefield fic. Ironically, despite the nature of the story, I still feel like it's sort of slow paced. It might be a bit of a slow burn, too. I'm sort of known for that.

In regards to Nathan: I have mixed feelings about his character. I initially disliked him a lot, but the more I consider him the sorrier I feel. So I'd just like to say that I did my best to present him in a similar fashion as the game: Not kind, by any means, but also still human, in the deepest sense. I guess it'll be up to the readers to decide if I did good.

I'll stop babbling. Thanks to anyone who stopped by to read, and feedback is seriously appreciated, especially as I feel out this new cast. I'll have the next one up soon!

KuroRiya
九六りや