This is approximately eight months later, just so no one gets completely lost. Blake, Ivan, and Ruxel have been at the house during this time, in case that clears some things up. As always, R/R! By the way, feel free to give me any ideas...I'm running a bit low.

~ Also, sorry about the last chapter's awkwardness, I forgot to separate breaks in the story, so that's why it was so choppy. Gonna fix that soon, don't worry.

Chapter Four

Less than a year passed by, before the next one came. Another fist of deadly, hateful, furious anger wrapped its grip around my heart, choking the tolerance out of me to the point where I was tempted to scream out loud and smack the new suited men that showed up with a six year old between them, the little girl's eyes bright and blue, her light brown hair wavy and healthy at one time, I was sure, but now matted and tangled.

"Ivan," I'd said quietly in the kitchen later that evening, while Blake sat silently with the little girl, Marcy, in the tornado-wrecked living room. "What did they threaten you with? What's so horrible that you're letting them make you do this to a six-year old?" I'm not accusing this time, but gentle, sensing that there really was something they held high above his head, something important to him that he couldn't stand to see hurt in any way.

"It's not your business, Valen"-

"Don't," I say warningly, half-cringing at the name he was about to call me. "And whether you like it or not, it is my business, cause I'm affected by it. All you have to do is tell me."

He stares down at the little contraption he's working on, then gives a big sigh. "I don't need to give you another reason to rebel against the Experimenters, Rux."

"They can't be threatening to kill you because you're essential to their plans, so what is it? Shutting you down? Stripping you of your home? Family?" And he cringes. "No." Is all I can say, but its firm, refusing, unacceptable.

"Ruxel, please don't," He pleads, but I can't sit this one out.

"Van, if their threatening you with family, you should've told me from the start. I wouldn't have blown up at you last fall, when Blake arrived, or every other time I was feeling particularly crappy about my situation." I insisted, leaning heavily on the table, feeling colder than a minute before, despite my thick turtleneck. "And above all, you have to do something."

He stares down at the little metallic machine, and I think I saw it move a little, but I was really focused on the helpless expression on his face, like he, of all people was broken. "Rux, there's nothing I can do except...that." He looks at my wings with a sober expression, his green eyes hazy and tired. "They threaten me every time to kill them, Ruxel. I can't...I can't let that happen when there's something I can do to stop it. I know you don't have much family to care for, but"-

"No," I say mildly, turning away. "Don't ask me to try to understand. Because you are my family to care for, and that's what I'm doing right now, isn't it?"

Blake acknowledges my presence when I walk into the living room, my feet now trained to walk barefoot, picking themselves up from a nail or screw before they could get stabbed. Marcy was looking at Blake, quiet and quizzical as her brown hair quivered slightly in the ceiling fan's wind. Blake pointed to me, looked at Marcy, and then said with that annoyingly impassive face of his, "Marcy, that's Valentine."

"Don't train her to call me that!" I flustered, annoyed that along with calling me Valentine himself and almost rubbing off on Ivan, he was gonna make a six-year old contribute to my misery.

"It's your name, though." He said blankly, his face just as bank of emotion, though I had a sneaking suspicion that he was laughing maniacally on the inside.

"My last name, therefore not what I should be called," I muttered heatedly as Marcy began to let her legs kick against the chair she was perched on. "Marcy, I'm Ruxel."

He blue eyes fixed on me, and she nodded vigorously, but there was something blank about the way she peered at me through her hair that made my skin feel tight. "Your eyes...are they alright?"

Blake shot me a careful look as I realized it was one eye that was blank and hazy. I cursed under my breath and felt my shoulders burn with the anticipation to take flight and burn off the anger. They'd made her blind, with those pretty eyes. Even if it was only one, it made my lungs fill with hot air, and I felt like my patience was going to boil over for the Experimenters.

"It's okay." She said, with a sing-song voice that made my cool heart squeeze. "It doesn't hurt, and I can still see out of the other one."

There wasn't much to talk about after that, with all our heads filled with heavy thoughts, except maybe Marcy's, but I'm sure me, Blake, and Ivan were making up for her share.

"Need some help with that?" I asked, as Blake struggled with his wings. A month after he'd arrived he'd gone through the operation that Ivan performs as a one-man surgeon team, and then came the four months of rehabilitation. Only in the last three months had he begun to fly, and shakily, to put it kindly.

Now he was in the drawing room with me, trying to hold his right wing up with one hand while fastening it into the bio mechanism on his shoulders with the other. I lifted one metal wing and attached it, easily finding the latch and catch that fastened it into place, and following by connecting the the wing. He managed to get one up, and lifted the other, fitting this one in much easier.

"None needed." He said blandly. Sometimes I'd felt jealous of him, since he had been able to fly without tearing up a shirt, but now we both had to tear through not just one shirt, but a shirt, two sweaters, and our sport jackets, a dreadful ripping sound flooding the room as we both stretched our wings wide. I nestled my wings close to my side, almost expecting to feel the softness of feathers, but getting only the sensation of cool metal on my cheek as one of the metal feathers on the ridge brushed my face. I looked over at Blake, whose wings looked darker, and I had a feeling Ivan may have planned it, since his hair and eyes were so dark. But they were larger than mine, and he looked at them as though he was still not used to them. Like they couldn't possibly be connected to him, feeding off his energy.

I folded my wings tightly and hurried out the drawing room, across the living room, and out into the back, biting my wind-chapped lips as the cold nipped at my face. The extra torn clothes were worth it, since it would only get worse when we took flight. Yet, I felt exhilarated by the chill and almost put my palms against the ground and stretched like a cat, while flexing my wings. Somehow, I could feel it when the gears turned and worked, and the when the pulleys tugged at metal frames, it was like flexing the hamstrings in my calves. I could also feel it when they got achy from the cold, as well, and I could begin to feel it. If I didn't get off the ground and moving, soon, my nerves and the oil were gonna freeze up. And Blake wasn't doing any better than me.

"Ready?" I asked, batting my wings a little bit to keep them warm. In answer, he pounded down the short path that we'd shoveled out of the snow on the ground, and then leapt into the air, spreading his dark wings and shoveling air, trying to push through the dead cold air near the ground to get up to the thermal drafts that lie above us. He managed to get steady, but he wobbled as he pushed up again.

With one cloudy, cool breath, I started sprinting down the shoveled path, gaining speed I didn't really need like he did, and then launching myself into the air, my wings slapping down the lifeless air and lifting me higher. Within seconds, I was level with Blake, twirling and dipping and trying not to leave him in the dust. Surprisingly, he was kind of hard to annoy. Instead, I bossed him around on how to improve his flying.

"Stop thinking about it," I said for the hundredth time. "Have you ever seen a bird sitting on a branch, eying the sky and thinking about how to fly? No, because birds don't think about flying." I chided, doing a barrel-roll as he looked at me intensely. With hatred, no doubt. I realized that I really didn't think about flying at all either, at least when I wasn't doing special test maneuvers for Ivan. I breathed a deep breath and tried to ignore the cold that was seeping into the metal surrounding my shoulders. My nerves had never actually frozen up before, but I so didn't want them to, for fear of dropping out of the sky again.

I turned and headed back in the direction of the house, sinking down to the field and wishing I could run my fingers through the grass again instead of staring at the snow. Then I swoop up over the roof, running across it while my wings still flapped, feeling like an Olympic runner, I was going so fast. I could hear Blake's wing beats behind me, and gave a little shout of happiness as I leapt back off the roof, seamlessly rejoining him in the air. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cool wind for a moment.

"Valentine!" I swung around completely within the second, hovering in midair like a hummingbird. I looked over to see Blake standing on the roof, looking down at the ground with a fierce look on his eyes. I followed his gaze and saw a black SUV pulling up to the curb, with a small metal wing for a hood ornament.

This can't be good. I thought to myself as I lowered myself from the sky, from what little freedom I had, landing fifteen feet away from the same SUV that had come to take me and my brother from our home three and a half years ago.

"It's not the same as the one I was brought here in," Blake said as he landed roughly beside me. "Do you think it could still be another 'participant?'" He asked, his voice tight.

"Dunno...don't think so, though." I said quietly, feeling someone's eyes settling on us through the heavily-tinted windows. I pulled my wings closer to me, feeling a numbness start to creep over my shoulders from being still. "Either way, we need to get inside before we freeze up."

He started towards the door and I spent one more moment looking where I felt the eyes glaring out at me, before following him to the front porch and into the warm, welcoming house, shaking off any numbness that had tried to grip my shoulders.

"Ivan, there's people outside," I announced loudly, having no clue where he really was, walking into the kitchen and flipping the blinds on the window open so I could peer out at the SUV, watching as the doors began to swing open. Out of the driver's side I could see a head of stylishly cut dark brown hair, and a tall stature, and then leaned back away from the window, my breath fogging the cool window. I felt Ivan come to my side and look out as well, a bashful sigh brushing from his lips as the head of handsome hair revealed Davis M. Ford, and I leaned back against the table, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to breathe steadily through my nose, when it felt like I could spit fire if I really wanted to.

"You may not have to go, Rux." Ivan said quietly as he stood near the window.

"Trust me, I'm not worried about myself at the moment," I said, and I fluttered my wings impatiently, feeling animal-like as I became aware of Marcy's happy voice echoing in from the destructive living room, greeting Blake and saying something about his wings.

Ford and one of his underlings exited the SUV and started up the drive, and I could only think about how Ford didn't deserve to be as handsome as he was, with his vile, scheming mind. My wings shifted uncomfortably, itching to take to the sky, and I resisted the urge to gnaw on my nails. He no doubt could see us watching him approach the front porch and walk to the door, but he still knocked, as though he had a bit of respect for us and our privacy.

"So you hope it's you?" Ivan asked, not moving toward the door yet.

"Better me than them." I said stonily, and then he moved to the door, and I was left alone in the kitchen, until I felt someone behind me on the opposite side of the table. I turned, careful not to crash into anything with my fidgety wings.

Blake stood stonily by the table as he detached his wings and set them down on the surface of the table. He looked at me with his calculating eyes. I didn't know anything about him, not even after eight months of being around him, except that he got some enjoyment out of annoying me.

"Who are they?" He said, peering out the window at an angle to look at Ford and the other guy waiting for Ivan to arrive at the door.

"Horrible people."

The door was opened for them and Ford nodded to Ivan as he walked inside, probably without invitation. "Why are they here?" Blake asked.

"We'll see in a minute, I bet," I muttered, hot breath feeling steamy in my throat as I hissed air through my nose again.

"Ah, Ruxel, there you are." I turned to face Ford as he walked into the kitchen, his smoldering brown eyes surveying the messy kitchen critically, then judging my wings carefully while I glared at him, my arms still crossed angrily over my chest.

"Always love to see you, Ford." I said bitterly, feeling the back of my neck blister with heat as he gave a me a fake, A-Lister smile. He took off his glasses and tucked them into the chest pocket of his suit, which I yearned to spit on and push into the snow. "What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice flat and keep him from noticing my fury.

"I'd actually like to speak to Ivan first, he is the adult guardian for all of you at the moment and"-

"Ivan's a mechanic. Talk to me if it's got something to do with Marcy or Blake." I said, pushing all the power I could possess into my voice, feeling it reverberate in the room in the few silent moments after where Ford looked at me in disbelief.

"Alright, I can do that," he said, smiling in a relaxed way and giving a short laugh. "I've got orders to bring you and Blake back to New York to ready for an assignment."

"No."

"Excuse me?" He asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the one syllable I'd packed with so much defiance.

"I can't leave now. Marcy's still readying for the operation, Blake still needs to keep flying, and I need to be here for both of those events." I said stonily, flapping my wings in annoyance at his doubtful look. I was not going to be unnerved by him, by his belittling attitude towards me and his superior doubt. I felt like I could unfurl my wings and slap him in the face if I didn't keep myself in check, though.

"You don't have a choice, Ruxel." He said.

"You're right. I can't choose to leave," I countered, holding my ground.

"We have permission to use force, if necessary. I don't want to have to do that to you," He said, narrowing his eyes and straightening his stance.

"You mean you would just love to drag me out by my hair. Don't lie, Ford." I said, my voice steely and hard as Ivan came up behind Ford's subordinate, squeezing into the kitchen and looking at me warningly. But that only made more anger flood into my mind, wrap around my heart. Everyone that wasn't a victim of the Experiment was closing in on the victims, backing them into a corner. Ivan was threatened with his own family, and I was made to feel helpless and used. Marcy was blinded in one eye, and Blake was practically mute, having lost whatever he'd lost.

"Ruxel, this your last chance," Ford warned, and I felt everyone's gazes on me. This was my call. They probably didn't really need Blake, but they had to have me. It wasn't like I hadn't been in this situation before, but all those other times, when I was confronted with either struggling or submitting, it was supposedly only on my neck. I never knew how badly they were hurting Ivan, that they were planning to drag more people into this. I couldn't possibly stand by and give in this time. I had to fight somehow.

"I won't go."

He sighed heavily, and my shoulders felt like they were burning, they wanted to badly to expand my wings and attack Ford before he could lay a hand on anyone. Then, he looked at me with a tired stare, and signaled to the other SUVs outside. More men filed out, and I was frozen for one second, before I burst into action. Ford's eyes widened as I vaulted myself over the table, zipping past Blake, who was looking at me like I'd lost it. Marcy was sitting, wide eyed in the wild living room as I sprinted through it, dashing through the back door and jumping off the back porch.

I heard Ford and his subordinate thunder out behind me, but it was too late. My wings unfurled from behind me and I pushed hard with them, soaring above and out of their reach in juts a few seconds.

More people filed out onto the porch and I looked over my shoulder as I zoomed over the dead field. SWAT men were crowding around the porch, and I saw something that looked like a bazooka launcher, but I had a better idea of what it was. Net launcher.

I heard the boom of it and stopped my wings, falling drastically, watching as the net soared over head, a grin slipping across my face as I turned over on my back, seeing Ford's disgruntled face. I flashed my grin at him and he barked at one of the SWAT team members, who packed another net into the launcher, and I felt ready this time. It launched with a big blast, and I watched the pod fly toward me, moving to dodge it, but it suddenly burst open, quicker than the last one, and caught the edge of my left wing. I twirled and it fell to the ground but suddenly I was falling, fighting another net that had caught me while I was getting rid of the other one.

I cursed, batting my wings as much as I could, to slow the fall, but still hitting the hard-packed snowy ground hard, wincing at a rib split in two, and lying in a huddle, cold heap on the frosty ground, the sound of quick footfalls nearing.

"I don't play games, Ruxel." Ford loomed over me as a the small SWAT team circled around me as a precaution. To even my surprise, a low growl ripped from my throat, leaving it feeling hoarse. I went with it and flapped my wings angrily, making him jump back in the snow, a small blizzard lifting up around him. "You've spent to much time in the sky out here. Do you like being an animal?"

"Better than being an experiment," I said hoarsely, still sounding like I was growling, like I was a feral animal that they'd trapped and had hopes of breaking. "And you don't know the first thing about what all this really does to us."

"Hmph." He grunted and nodded to the team. Suddenly two people were lifting me up in the net, still tangled within it, my wings trapped, clipped, the sky taunting me from its constant perch.