I didn't do much editing on this because I wanted to post it as soon as possible, sorry for any mistakes. As always thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

Chapter 9

Harun.

Sweet, insecure, loyal, underappreciated Harun is in Hobb's hands.

"Mattie. Mattie!"

Leo's voice is distant, only barely recognisable as she conjures up images she never wants to ever have to imagine again, of what her friend could be going through right now – because of her.

Only when a hand lands on her shoulder and gives her a hard shake does she snap out of it, her vision focusing on the here and now, her eyes landing on Leo's worried face.

"There you are," he says with a note of relief in his voice as soon as he notices that she seems to be able to see him now, instead of being lost in her thoughts.

"Harun. He has Harun," is all she seems to be able to think, and she sees Mia flinch, probably at how weak her voice is.

The synth places a hand on her son's shoulder and signals for him to let her deal with it. He has a moment's hesitation, but they all know he has no idea how to react to Mattie's emotional state, so he eventually stands up and takes a few steps back, allowing Mia to crouch down in front of Mats and take her hands in hers.

"Listen to me. Hobb is not stupid. He's had Harun under surveillance for a while, which means he knows that he doesn't know anything. He only took him to ensure your cooperation, but you escaped before he could use him against you. Now he doesn't have any use for him, but he's not going to kill him. It would be too messy. The only thing he can do is let him go. Your friend is going to be fine. Do you hear me? He's going to be fine, I promise."

"You don't get it. Harun is… He's not like me."

"Nobody's like you," Leo mutters under his breath, but the comment that would normally have her failing at biting back her smile doesn't even register and she just continues on with her train of thoughts.

"He's not good at rolling with the punches. He's not daring or resilient. He's not…"

"He's not going to get hurt, Mattie," Mia promises again.

"You can't know that."

Her hesitation is barely there, but it's enough for Mats to close her eyes against the fresh wave of fear it brings.

"We're going to get him out of there. This, I do know."

She opens her eyes again and focuses on Mia, watching her carefully for any sign of doubt and only finding this quiet determination she's admired ever since she met the real personality buried underneath Anita's programming. After a minute, she takes a few shaky breaths and ends up nodding in agreement, hoping that Mia also sees how grateful she is.

"Okay. Okay. So where do we start?"

"First, you need to tell us everything you know about the layout of the house. If we're going to go there guns blazing, we need all the information we can get," Leo explains.

"Actually," Mia says, "The priority should be to get you both new phones. We need to be able to contact you immediately in case something goes wrong. And we should wait for Niska and Max before we start making plans."

"It could take ages," Mattie protests meekly.

"Yes," Mia concedes, "But there is not much we can do until then."

Leo doesn't seem too happy about this either, but he knows that Mia is right. Plus, as much as there are some aspects of Niska's character that honestly worry him sometimes, those aspects may be exactly what they need in order to see some useful things that he might not be able to see while planning. Sighing, he gives her a nod.

"Alright, I'll go buy a couple of phones. You can…"

"I'll do it," Mia says. Anticipating his protests, she adds, "I'm fully charged and you haven't slept in days, Leo. Take advantage of the down time, will you?"

"Fine," he growls after a minute of a silent staring contest, and Mattie has to bite back a smile at the dynamic she saw so many times between Toby and their mother when her brother didn't want to go to sleep as a kid.

The wave of homesickness that hits her like a ton of bricks at the memory is not entirely unexpected, but it's desperately unwelcome when she can't afford to curl into a ball and sob for the family that must be worried sick about her. Before she left the Internet café last night, she sent a secure e-mail to her mother letting her know that she was okay and that she was handling things, but she knows the vague message won't do much to assuage her worries. They certainly wouldn't ease hers if she were in her mother's shoes. But it was the best she could do. It's not like she can go back home when Hobb is still looking for her. She's not sure she would even if she could, to be honest. She wants to help the Elsters see this through. She's sure her mum would understand. Well… She's sure she'll understand after she's done shouting at her for putting herself at risk by fixing Fred. Which, yeah, she totally deserves.

It's a new experience for her, being concerned about what her mother will think and trying not to worry her, but then, their relationship has improved so much in such a short time that the fact that they both need some time to adjust doesn't come as a surprise.

"We should dispose of this one while we're at it. You know what to do?", Leo asks Mia, bringing her attention back to them.

"Of course."

With a small smile, the synth gives her son a hug, and once they let go of each other, she turns to Mattie and, to her surprise, she hugs her as well, whispering in her ear, "Look after him, will you?"

"You won't be gone that long," Mattie jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "A couple of hours at most."

"Just make sure he gets some rest. Try to get some as well."

"I'll do my best."

With that, she's gone, leaving Mats and Leo to look at each other, the atmosphere strangely awkward. Even during the short time when they didn't know each other and were mostly antagonistic towards each other, lacking trust and knowledge of the other's history and motivations, things were never awkward. Tense, reluctant and suspicious, but not awkward.

"We should…"

"How did you…"

They both spoke at the same time, and surprisingly, it seems to actually break the tension as they share a small chuckle and Mattie motions for him to go first. There's a small pause before he sits down on one of the overused, plastic-covered couches, getting ready either for a long conversation or to get some rest, she can't really tell, so she stays where she is for now, waiting until she knows whether he's actually going to sleep before she decides what to do herself, even though she can practically feel her eyelids growing so heavy that they're almost dragging her head down by this point.

"How did you do it, Mattie? How did you fix Fred?"

Her lips form a soft smile at the question. Of course that's what he wants to talk about. She should have known.

"I did exactly what you tried to do. Only I was more patient and optimistic than you."

She's not sure how he's going to react – she knows she'd probably be offended if anyone said anything like this to her – but his lips twitch up before he manages to school his expression and fake indignation.

"Hey! I can be patient! Being on the run just doesn't really help with that."

She snorts in agreement, noting that he didn't deny the optimistic part of her statement, but turns serious again as his comment hits home and reminds her that she's on the run now too.

"I know. Which is why I decided to take things into my own hands. I knew it could be done with some time, something you didn't have."

"I'm sure Fred has already thanked you profusely, but…"

"You're welcome," she interrupts before he can embarrass her with his gratitude. "Mia was right, you know. We should get some rest."

"Of course. You look tired."

"That's what every girl wants to hear," she huffs, settling on one of the other couches and trying to get comfortable while ignoring the feeling of being watched.

She's not looking at him, but she's pretty sure he hasn't taken his eyes off of her for more than one second since she walked in. Not that she's any better.

She can hear him tossing and turning, and she holds back a sigh. There is no way she's going to get any rest given how tightly bound she is, and wondering what's wrong with him isn't any help at all. She really wants to sleep, but there's only so much squeaking from an old plastic sheet she can take before she has to ask.

"Hey. You okay?"

The squeaking stops and only silence greets her question, a silence that she interprets as him trying to decide whether to open up, and it shouldn't surprise her any more, this deep yearning for him to do it, for any scrap of information she can get about him – not about his family or his synth parts, not about what he's been through or what he knows, but about him, about the workings of that brilliant mind of his and the emotions behind it.

The few weeks they spent apart haven't done anything to diminish it. If anything, she's greedier than ever when it comes to wanting to know him.

However, no matter how much she wants him to know that he can talk to her, wants him to want to talk to her, she also knows when she's pushed the boundaries – the heavy silence is helping with that, thank you very much – and she's about to tell him to forget about it when he lets out a sigh and speaks up.

"Kinda. Just too many things on my mind."

She pauses, unsure if she should say what's on her mind. She doesn't want to presume anything, because while hoping is okay, presuming is bad, but she knows that he has a guilt complex the size of Europe – one that he usually tries to hide underneath thick layers of anger and hostility – and while there are many things she's not sure of when it comes to him and what he may feel towards her, there is one thing she's pretty certain she's got right.

Gathering her courage, she turns her head towards him, wanting him to read the truth of what she's about to say in her expression. Unfortunately, he's now staring at the decrepit ceiling, so she'll have to make do.

"It wasn't your fault, you know. What Hobb did to me," she whispers in the semi-darkness, prompting him to look at her. "He didn't take me because of you, he did it because I fixed Fred. If anything, I'm the reason he almost got to you."

After all, if she hadn't tampered with Fred's code, and if Harun hadn't chosen this moment to reveal his hidden stubbornness, and if Leo hadn't called her friend trying to get information about her, Hobb would never have known that the Elsters had gone back home.

The whole thing was like a catastrophic chain of events that started with her.

"Are we going to pretend that I'm not the reason you wanted to fix Fred?"

Her eyes widen slightly at that, not because what he just said isn't true, but because she wasn't expecting him to bring it up, and certainly not so bluntly. Then again, why not? Blunt is his middle name. And while she kind of did it for Fred too, and also because she wanted to see if she could, they both know the main reason had everything to do with the man currently lying on his back and studying her like he's trying to solve a puzzle. Why bother denying it?

She was fully prepared to beat around the bush and avoid the issue for as long as she needed to, but if he's going to be like this…

"Ah. So I'm guessing we're not going to dance around this then?" she asks matter-of-factly, indicating the space between the two of them with a vague, lazy motion of her hand, in case what they're both referring to wasn't clear enough.

She's proud of herself for managing to sound and look somewhat detached even though the roaring hope suddenly has her heart hammering so hard in her chest that he has to be hearing it from his position 15 feet away.

Because Leo Elster is many things, not all of them good, but he's certainly not cruel, and she's pretty sure he wouldn't have brought up her obvious feelings like this if there wasn't… something on his end as well.

And, yes, she may have been kind of hoping before anyway, memories of sweet smiles and quiet admissions flashing before her eyes whenever she was getting discouraged when Fred's code wasn't cooperating with her, but this is suddenly bringing everything back to the surface, reminding her that no, this thing isn't something she dreamed up. It's not a fantasy her mind lashed onto, desperate for a new challenge or for some kind of connection with the most intelligent and complicated person she's ever met. It was there from the start, on her part at least, and whether it started out that way or not, it didn't stay one-sided for very long.

After a few seconds of yet another silence – one that's more contemplative than anything this time – a sound that's half-sigh, half-chuckle reaches her ears.

"Are we supposed to? Sorry, I'm a bit rusty on this kind of things."

"Rusty would imply that you were good at it at some point," she shoots back teasingly without missing a beat, and is rewarded with one of those beautiful, all too rare smiles she swears she could spend hours trying to bring out of him, one that seems to brighten the entire bleak room.

"Good point. Inexperienced?" he suggests. There's another pause – she's gonna stop counting them soon, she swears – and then, "I'm not sure what to say, to be honest."

And she gets it, really. I like you is a bit too juvenile and weak for her taste. Let's go on a date and see how it goes is kinda out of the question, what with the whole evil people trying to capture them thing. And it's way too soon for Where do we go from here?

What else can they say? Is there anything that applies to their situation? The 'No idea if we'll make it out of the next few days alive and free' situation?

It's not like she has that much experience either. Not with… Feelings. The physical side of things she has down pretty well, though half her experiences when it comes to this are safely stored away in the 'regrets' box of her mind – and she has to wonder how inexperienced they are talking about with him here, 'cos somehow she doesn't think growing up as he did was conductive to this kind of intimacy – but getting attached is not her specialty. Certainly not that fast, and certainly not to someone like him, whom she's not sure half the time if she should treat like a skittish horse.

Although he seems pretty relaxed now, all things considered, even despite the topic of conversation, which leads to her saying something she'd normally try to keep to herself.

"There's something different about you. You're… Not keeping me at arm's length."

There's the shadow of a smile on his lips at her assessment before it turns into a contemplative frown.

"I was trying not to, before, you know."

She thinks of "maybe I needed to show someone" and "no you're not" and "I know you can" and she nods. Though she was the one who initiated most of their shared moments, there was definitely some effort on his part.

"Yeah, I know. You sucked at it though," she comments in her usual straightforward manner, prompting another, more amused smile. "What's changed?"

"I missed you."

Such simple words, but the way he says them, soft and hesitant, like he's not sure how she's going to receive them – idiot – sends her heart racing once more. It takes her a few minutes to calm the damn thing down and to try to think of something smarter to say than "I missed you too", and by the time she manages, he's tossing and turning again, probably thinking that she's not going to answer, or embarrassed by his admission or something.

Time for damage control.

"Leo?" she calls for his attention.

"Hm?"

"I know you're not great with physical contact, but…"

She trails off when he abruptly stops moving, and she's the embarrassed one this time, wishing she could take it back, or that the floor would swallow her, thinking that she's definitely pushed the boundaries this time, but then…

"I can make an exception."

She's on her feet and crossing the room over to where he is in the blink of an eye. Standing next to the makeshift bed, looking down at him, she pauses, hesitating once more, until he scoots over in obvious invitation and she settles down next to him, mirroring his position, laying on her side and watching him with her eyes as full of questions and wonder as his are, on the verge of something terrifying and beautiful and fun and amazing and dangerous and life-changing and potentially heart-breaking and everything in between.

Realizing she's holding her breath, she makes a conscious effort to let it out and he raises an eyebrow in amusement, his hand tentatively coming up to her face to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear, and there she is again, holding her breath, because not only is the motion sweet enough to almost bring tears to her eyes, it also brings their bodies closer together thanks to the couch's size.

He gives a little shake of his head, breaking the serenity of the moment, and his lips do something that highly resembles a pout, if the thought wasn't ridiculous when associated with a grown, tortured man.

"This is going to be so complicated."

She gives a little shrug, her eyes falling shut of their own volition, a yawn escaping her as her exhaustion officially takes over.

The last thing she hears before she gives into sleep is his quiet chuckle at her mumbled answer.

"Simple is overrated."

TBC…