A/N: Hey, guys! Super sorry for not updating in so long! I mean, school just started and all that.

Uber-Super thanks to ~TrinaCat for reviewing!
Please, readers: follow her example, please! DON'T BE LAZY!

Remember, reviews make me happy!

Chapter 3

Ratchet woke up blearily, taking in his dim surroundings. He wasn't surprised or shocked. He remembered every last miserable detail about the day before, and he wished for a moment that this was the dream and he could go back to the hazy unconsciousness of dreamland.

Reina was still holding Ben's hand, and they were both sleeping. Sometime while Ratchet had been sleeping one of the scientists must have patched up Ben's bullet wound because now he was shirtless, dirty, blood stained bandages wrapped around his ribs. Despite his skinny, food-deprived body, Ben was still moderately muscular, toned under clammy yet tan skin.

While he'd been sleeping, Adel's warm, soft hand had slipped out of his. He wanted to hold it again, and maybe not feel so hopeless and lonely anymore.

"WAKE UP, BRATS!" Harsh artificial lights exploded into Ratchet's vision, several scientists strolling in almost happily, taking wide strides, eager for work today. "Today, we're going to suit up one of our new arrivals. After all, we don't want them to feel lonely, do we?" A robust man laughed heartily, pulling out a small flashlight from a pocket.

"Shut up, cretin," the blonde woman from before snapped, snatching the flashlight from his hand. She walked briskly to Ratchet's cage and reached through the bars to shine the light in his eyes, forcing his lids open two latex-covered fingers, then down his throat. She clicked her tongue, and moved onto Adel. She clicked her tongue again, then checked Reina, who was right next to Adel. She smiled, clicked the flashlight off, and nodded. Immediately two of the scientists walked over and unlocked it, flipping a combination too fast for Ratchet's eyes to follow.

"Don't touch her!" Ben roared, throwing himself at their direction, gripping the bars of his cage tightly. They pulled Reina out, who was kicking and struggling, but not screaming. She twisted aggressively in their grip, trying to reach for her pocket.

"Really, Ms. Blackthorn; I didn't think you'd underestimate us like that." The blonde woman nodded at the two men restraining her, and they looped a blindfold around her head and cuffed her hands behind her back. "We took the time to confiscate all of your petty, little weapons. You, too, Mr. Light." Ben breathed heavily and glared at her with a murderous look in his eyes. If looks could kill, the blonde woman would already be 6 feet under.

"We're ready, Ms. Ingles," one scientist reported.

"Okay," she replied, her thin lips spreading into something that resembled a smile. "Come with us, Reina," They dragged Reina outside of the room, who went without anymore struggle, but with an indignant walk, like she was only letting them escort her.

"D-don't worry," an older boy stuttered, curled up in his crate. "T-they never kill on-on the f-first day…"

"Great," Ben said sourly, "that makes everything better."

"Who're you?" Ratchet asked. He was curious about the other occupant of this School; he needed to learn as much as he could about everything if he was to survive here.

"M-My name is John," he replied. "T-the sci-scientists… We a-all just called them w-whitecoats. P-people like that blonde lady, th-they're t-technicians… Some of the o-others, they're c-called Erasers. T-They… they're mutants, too…"

"Mutants?" Ratchet asked, leaning closer to the frail boy.

"T-that's what they do here. They e…e-e-experiment on us, mutate us. A-all in the name of science…" He grimaced. "B-but sometimes, the experiments go w-wrong." He looked up with his strange, half-transparent gray eyes. "Y-You know… I d-didn't always have this stutter…" His hand unconsciously went to his throat, where Ratchet noticed there was a long, jagged scar winding around his neck like a hangman's noose. "Th-there was a time when… when a-all of us were… n-normal… Like you…" He smiled with a de-attached expression. "B-but don't worry. D-don't be scared. It s-stops h-hurting after a while…"

Ratchet swallowed with some difficulty. His throat was dry, and his stomach was collapsing in on itself. "Do you know what they're going to do with her?"

"H-hurt her… o-open her stomach up… examine her g-guts… But they won't kill her." He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. "Th-they don't have t-the mercy to k-kill all of us… They a-aren't that nice…" He chuckled weakly, like that was a sick joke they all shared. "They're n-never that nice." There was silence, so quiet it was almost agonizing.

For what seemed like forever, Ratchet sat in his cage, worrying his heart out about Reina, wondering what they were doing to her, wondering if she was okay. He tried sleeping, but it seemed impossible with the doubt gnawing away at the corner of his mind.

After what could have been one hour, 10 hours, or even several days, the whitecoats came back, dragging Reina between them. Her clothes were speckled with blood. Ratchet gasped, his heart falling into this stomach, and Ben immediately perked up, sharp eyes following the whitecoats' every move.

They dumped Reina back into her crate, where she moaned and struggled to sit up.

"What happened? What did they do to you?" Ben clasped Reina's hand between his.

"I… I don't know…" she muttered, shaking her head. Ratchet could see glimpses of fresh stitches around Reina's stomach and arms, bandages winding around certain parts of her torso and limbs. "It… it was so… weird…" She passed out, head dropping on her chest.

"Reina!" Ben carefully shook her shoulder, concern in his voice.

"Don't worry, brats." What Ratchet assumed was an Eraser smiled. "She'll be fine. For now. But you never know." He leaned up close and stared at Ratchet in the eyes. "Any day, she might never come back." He laughed as he followed Ms. Ingles outside the rooms. Ratchet could only think of Reina's stitches and bandages, and John's haunted gray eyes, the loop of scar around his neck.