Wow, this story has been neglected. Well, it's almost over anyway, so I'm sorry to those of you that actually read this story. :P

WildCroconaw - I guess it is like that, huh? I never thought of that... Yes, I definitely see some possibilities now. :D

Onto the story!

Rosalie simply closed her eyes, a wry smile on her face as she replayed the words her father had just told her--that Jay's parents were the twisted minds behind Ziz and Solas's creation. He doesn't know, she told herself, willing it to be true. It can't be possible that Jay knows. He's not like them--not evil like them.

"He might be," Tyxander whispered dryly in her ear, his wide orange lemur eyes fixed on Aaron's back. "It's not like we know him. He could be a part of this, too."

"Not Jay." Rosalie made sure her voice was firm.

Tyxander flipped his head sideways, his expression displeased. "You can't trust appearances. Aaron and Starra coming back should have proved that to you." His voice was harsh.

She clenched her fists. "You didn't know either," she hissed.

Surprisingly, he dipped his blunt muzzle into her hair. "I know."

"Rosalie." Aaron froze with his hand on the doorknob, his shoulders tense. "You remember what I told you? If I tell you to run away--"

"Then I'll run away," she finished softly, highly aware that her knees were practically knocking together. Leah's in there because of my stupidity, she reminded herself. "But I won't like it. I…I already lost you once." She couldn't go on, feeling the burning sensation of unshed tears in the back of her throat.

Aaron's face softened and he reached out with one hand, stroking his daughter's face. "I won't leave you again, Rosie. I promise."

She nodded stiffly, flicking her wrist across her eyes irritably. As if she needed to start crying right now.

Aaron looked up at the sky. The silhouette of a bird in flight was just visible against the bright sun. "Solas will watch for us. We don't have much time." Turning to her, he added, "We'll need to get in and out. They'll be keeping her somewhere near the Bisector--probably in our old offices." Despite the fact he hadn't worked there in months, he still referred to it as his office, Rosalie noted distantly.

"Okay," she said firmly. Tyxander dropped to the ground as a jaguar, one of his more dangerous forms. His cat-eyes glinted with a hard light, and his claws were unsheathed, producing screeches from the icy concrete.

Aaron took a deep breath, as if he were about to dive underwater, and pulled open the door, hurrying inside the darkened hall. The door closed behind them with a barely-audible hiss of air. "It should be down this hall and to the right," he muttered, more to himself and Starra than to her. The mockingbird dæmon's beady black eyes gleamed in the half-light like polished obsidian. "Take a left after that…third door…"

Rosalie pressed one hand to Ty's head, trying to convince herself out of her terror. What if they attack us? she panicked. She had taken Tae Kwon Do classes like almost every little kid had, but she couldn't remember anything from it. I was only a white belt!

Tyxander let a purr rumble through his chest, sending vibrations up through her hand soothingly.

Aaron rushed around the corner, keeping light on his feet. He sprinted down the hall and then down another hall. Rosalie followed, trying and failing miserably to make a mental map in her head. It was like some kind of labyrinth--like one of those hedge mazes rich people like to create in their acres and acres of land--only here it was unlit and white, instead of fun and green.

"Here," he murmured. "This will lead us to one of the lower floors. We'll take this up to the lobby, and then we'll--" He cut off abruptly as footsteps sounded down the hall, quickly growing ominously closer. "Get back!" he hissed, flinging out his arm to press Rosalie back into the shadows of the corner.

Barely breathing, she obeyed, kneeling down to press shoulder-to-shoulder with Ty. "Can you see who it is?" she breathed.

He turned into a fly, flitting quickly out into the hall and back to perch on her shoulder. "It's that receptionist!" he whispered in his tiny voice.

Rosalie gasped. Turning around, she repeated his words to Aaron.

His eyes hardened. "I never liked that woman."

The receptionist--Abigail, Rosalie remembered--wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. Her eyes on the clipboard in front of her, she was muttering to her dæmon. "Can you believe this, Bakkah?" she complained. "That little brat is spoiling everything. Is she'd just calm down, this wouldn't be such a problem. Honestly, most people pay thousands for this procedure." She was getting closer quickly, almost right next to them, and Rosalie pressed herself against the wall, chiding herself internally for wearing her blue jacket as opposed to her white one…

"Hello, Abigail," Aaron said calmly, stepping out right in front of her.

Abigail looked up irritably, her eyes sharp behind her glasses. "What…?" She trailed off, her face a terribly whiteish-green when she saw who it was. She looked like she was going to be sick. "No--"

"Yes," Aaron said firmly, reaching out to grab her shoulder. He pushed her back against the wall, groping behind her with one hand for the doorknob to the supplies closet, wrenching it open and pushing her inside. "Sorry about this. Consider this my two-weeks notice."

"You won't get away with this!" she shrieked, lashing out at him with her fingernails. "When the director hears this, he'll kill you, Brown! You're a dead man!"

Rosalie gasped, but Aaron showed no such surprise. "Tell him I'm coming for him, then," he whispered, deadly serious. Then he shut the down on her incredulous face contemptuously. Dusting his hands on the front of his jeans, he knocked softly on the door. "How's it going in there?"

The only answer was a muted screech and the sound of falling brooms.

"No one will hear her in there," Aaron said confidently, turning to Rosalie, his face falling quickly when he saw her expression. "I didn't hurt her, honey," he reassured her.

"No, that's not it." Rosalie shook her head slowly. "Did you hear what she said? She said something about a girl complaining about the procedure…"

He sucked in a breath. "Your friend. We need to hurry." He took off again, Starra peering over his shoulder, her gaze fixed on the door still.

Rosalie shivered as she followed. "They've changed," she murmured to Ty, a mouse on her shoulder.

"Hardened," he noted. "But they had to. They did what they had to do to survive."

Rosalie closed her eyes, nodding once. "Maybe."

Aaron peered around the edge of a corner, his eyes tight with worry. "We're almost there," he whispered. "You need to look out for the director's dæmon. She can blend in with the surroundings astonishingly well. Just make sure you don't fall for her tricks."

"O-okay," Rosalie stuttered.

Aaron tossed one glance over his shoulder before turning back, stepping out into the hall and hurrying down it. "We might have to overpower the guards," he murmured.

As if on cue, a door to their left burst open, and a man in a white lab coat flew out. Aaron took one step forward, grabbing Rosalie's arm and yanking her behind him.

"Jay!" she cried, recognizing that tousled dark brown hair anywhere.

Jay whipped to the side, his face pale under his dark hair. It made his eyes look very blue--as blue as his mother's. "Thank God you're safe," he gasped, stumbling forward towards them, but Aaron pressed Rosalie even closer behind him.

"Jay Collins," he said dryly, his fingers biting into the soft skin of Rosalie's forearm. "Have you come to deliver us to your father?"

Jay looked aghast. "Are you insane?" he demanded. "Why would I do that?" "Because of that at your belt." Aaron nodded towards something enclosed in a black leather sheath--the hilt of a silver dagger.

"I stole it from my father," Jay said fiercely, while Rosalie just stared like an idiot. "Take a look at it, if you want. You would recognize it anywhere, wouldn't you?" He pulled it effortlessly out of the sheath--showing years of practice--and held it out, hilt first.

Aaron didn't move. "Toss it on the ground," he ordered.

Jay twisted his mouth. "You think I'm here to kill you," he said, making it more a statement of fact than a question.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Aaron demanded.

Jay locked eyes with Aaron--dark blue into brown--then bent his head. "Not at all in this world, sir." He lightly tossed the dagger to the ground. It rattled against the cold tiles.

With a quick glance to make sure Jay hadn't moved, Aaron stooped swiftly and picked it up, turning it over in his hand, keeping the other firmly holding Rosalie in place. He tilted the knife towards the light, letting it catch along the blade.

"You can see the Institute's seal," Jay pointed out, trying to be helpful. "Right at the--"

"I can see it," Aaron cut him off. Jay pulled back into silence. "But I don't see how this proves anything." He made no move to give the dagger back.

Rosalie looked back between her father's hard face and Jay's pleading one. "Dad," she whispered, tugging slightly away. Aaron didn't lessen his grip. "Dad," she repeated urgently. "I trust Jay."

"You barely know him!"

"He helped me here while you were…away." She winced as she said the words, seeing the hurt look on her father's face.

"You're here to rescue the girl," Jay said quickly. "I can help you. They're keeping her in a room off of the Bisector chamber. It won't take but a few seconds to grab her. I can make it so she comes with me alone for testing. You can take her out the back."

"What's in it for you?" Aaron demanded. "You have to get something out of it. You're betraying your father and your job. What are you after?"

"Nothing," Jay said simply. "I have nothing to gain from this, but I don't need it."

"Oh?"

"You don't have to believe me, sir," Jay said with a weary wave of his hand. "I know that most don't take me seriously around here, or are afraid of me because of my parents. I'm not unaware of that. I would just like to be judged as a person--myself--rather than my parents' sins." His eyes were clear, but his face was still bone-pale.

Rosalie couldn't help but admire him, this boy that was struggling so much to be an individual, but was floundering under his father's crushing influence. She pried at her father's fingers, gently loosening them. "Dad, we can trust him," she said softly, stepping back to stand beside Jay.

Aaron still looked torn.

"We have no choice," she insisted. "Time is running out." And we have to save Leah… she added silently. Before it's too late.

"Fine." Aaron lightly tossed the dagger at Jay; he caught it with one hand. "If I see you put one toe out of line…" He let the threat hang in the air, Starra fluffing her feathers out fiercely.

"Thank you, Dr. Brown," Jay said, obviously relieved.

"No, it's not Dr. Brown anymore. It's just Aaron." His eyes hardened again as he looked between Rosalie and Jay. "But you can call me 'sir.'"

Jay laughed weakly. "Yes, sir."

Aaron nodded, his jaw set, and then turned around to press his ear to the door. "Stay here," he hissed. "I'm going to disable the cameras in this quadrant." He was in and gone before Rosalie could even wish him good luck.

Jay leaned back against the wall, one arm thrown over his face. "I can't believe…that your father would trust me…after everything that my parents have done…to you, your family. Why?"

Rosalie felt a rush of fondness for this boy. Stepping close to him, she put her hand delicately on his shoulder, not knowing if she was going too far. "Because that's who he is," she said simply.

Jay smiled, moving his arm away. He reached out and gently took her hand, squeezing her fingers softly. "Then you're very lucky," he whispered.

Rosalie was sure she was blushing fiercely from the close contact, but before she could open her mouth and stutter something no doubt incoherent, Jay's expression clouded, and he fumbled around his belt for something.

"I want you to take this," he murmured, pulling another sheath from where it must have been the whole time under his lab coat. "I know you don't know how to use it…but I want you to have it anyway." He pressed the warm leather into her hand, closing her fingers around it. "My parents' sins aren't my own, true enough…but…" He looked up at her, laying his hand onto of the knife. "I don't want to see anything happen to you, Rosalie. You mean too much to me for me to let something to happen to you."

Her breath caught in her chest. "Jay," she started, but at that moment, Aaron returned. He cast a spectacularly acidic look at Jay when he saw where his hand was placed. Jay dropped Rosalie's hand and stepped back, flushed.

Aaron grabbed Rosalie by the shoulder and thrust her in front of him, grumbling to himself. Rosalie was sure that if Jay's dæmon had been visible, her and Starra would have had some words. She surreptitiously clipped the nondescript knife onto her belt, tucking it under her jacket and out of view.

"T-this is the door. Sir," Jay added, his voice still embarrassed. "We'll sneak in here and grab her. I'll distract them while you get away." Jay opened the door gently, then disappeared into the darkness.

Rosalie went to follow, but Aaron caught her wrist. "What's going on between you two?" he asked tensely.

"What? Are you serious, Dad? Now's really not the best time for that, don't you think?" She felt her cheeks burn, and knew she must be as red as her hair.

Aaron nodded stiffly, following her into the small room. They had crossed over to where Jay was kneeling, whispering to someone in the darkness. "It's okay," he was saying. "It's okay, miss. We're here to get you out of here."

"Leah!" Rosalie fell to her knees beside her friend, alarmed to see her head lolling on her shoulder limply, her blonde hair damp. Frithan was a pile on black-and-white fur on the ground beside her, his long whiskers blowing gently as he breathed. "What's wrong with them?" she asked Jay.

Jay was in doctor mode now, his face concentrated. "A mild sedative," he murmured, pulling back one of Leah's eyelids. "She should be fine. She'll wake up soon, so we better hurry."

"I can't let you do that, Jay."

The lights snapped on at that same instant, blinding Rosalie. Rough hands grabbed her, pulling her away from Leah and tossing her into a chair. Icy restraints clipped sharply around her wrists. "What's going on?" she screamed, thrashing wildly. "Ty? Tyxander!" Her heart was racing, and fear for her dæmon--her own dear soul--was driving her half-mad with terror. "Tyxander!"

"Shut her up!" someone, their voice sounding distinctly familiar, snapped. "She'll alert the director."

Dr. Clark, she realized, with a thrill of fear. "Stop this!" she cried. "Dad? Jay? Tyxander!"

"Stand down, Aaron, or I swear, I'll kill you where you stand." She didn't sound anything like the frazzled woman Rosalie had met in the lab, with her warm armful of rabbit dæmon.

Wrenching open her eyes, Rosalie nearly screamed again when she saw what was happening. Aaron was standing in the middle of the room, his hands half-raised. Jay was a crumpled heap on the floor by Leah, blood glistening at the back of his neck.

Dr. Clark stood in front of Aaron, her eyes so wide that a strip of white was visible all the way around. Her short hair was in disarray, and her dæmon had his long, sharp teeth bared. And in her small, wildly shaky hands was a pistol aimed straight at Aaron's heart.

Dun dun dun! Isn't it nice that I leave this at a cliffie, too? All my mental resources, so to say, are going towards my new Warriors fic and NaNoWriMo, so I might get around to this one eventually, but it's definitely on the back burner for now. :P My bad.

R&R~

Shadow