Author's Notes: So many wonderful responses! Thank you everyone!

Phase Nine: Shattered Glass

Chapter Twenty-One

Brea woke abruptly in a cold sweat. Her breath caught awkwardly in her throat and she coughed, sitting up and placing a shaky hand to her forehead. Her palms were clammy and her vision seemed to twitch with every pulse of her rapidly beating heart, and her mind pounded relentlessly inside her skull. She felt ill.

"Mm…Brea?" A croaky voice, drunk with sleep, asked from beside her. Brea glanced down at the form of the older woman, her raven hair clinging to her scalp in a tangled mess, looking like a feathered bird's nest. "Whas wrong, sweetie…?"

"I'm fine," She asserted almost automatically, slightly winded. "Just…just a dream."

As Annie groaned in acknowledgement and turned back over, easily drifting back to sleep, Brea questioned whether or not she had said that to assure Annie or herself. She stared at the dark haired woman for a moment, glancing over to see baby Becky sound asleep in her little padded bundle, before laying back down and crossing her arms over her eyes, willing her panicked heart to settle. She couldn't fall asleep. The memory of the nightmare lingered just below her conscious thoughts, buried just enough so the images were only vague notions and they couldn't worry her. But just the mere idea of them was enough to send small jolts of dread, running up her arms and through her chest to stab at her stomach, making her feel woozy.

She felt like crying. The nightmares were starting to grow worse. She'd been expecting them to for some time…

The shed was suddenly inadequately small and she rose to her feet, nearly stumbling when her feet caught in the folds of the impromptu mattress. Blades of grass wedged between her toes as she dragged her feet along through the clearing, having not the energy to lift them more then a few centimeters off the ground. She made a slow procession towards the pantry; a long storage shed set a little ways off from the main camp. The Pantry held stores of food that the resident humans had started to saved up for emergencies or incase of unexpected numbers of new arrivals. It had been a new idea and only held a little bit of food, but still managed to be impressive for their small output. Inside were some boxes of dried fruits and vegetables they'd gathered, some hard bread, ground spices, and herbs. Annie had shown her the pantry a few days prior when she'd been given the 'offical tour'. She would go about the stores, pulling out various dried plants and explaining that they were used to cure certain ailments, common things, and that they used them mostly to help Preston who was chronically ill. When Brea had asked, rather hesitantly, if he might be HIV positive or even have Aids, Annie had shrugged. Apparently this was something she had thought of often and was among their greatest concerns.

"We're not sure," She had said solemnly. "They did a lot of things to him. But he always says part of his condition is his own fault. He's done a lot of drugs in his life. So no one can be certain."

"So…will he be alright?"

"Of course! Ratchet wouldn't let anything happen to Preston," Annie said with a laugh, "Neither of them would admit it, but they're really good friends. I would go so far as saying it's love. They're like brothers the way they argue, it's adorable. Fixit get into it a bit sometimes, but mostly because Preston hates being scanned or poked at. Ratchet was the Mech who saved him, y'know. From the labs."

"Labs?" Brea looked at the older woman in alarm.

Annie's expression, while trying to remain neutral, betrayed the utter disgust and contempt she held for such an institution.

"Yeah, long before any of us were brought here. Apparently when they first discovered Earth, they caught of few of us, mostly homeless from what Preston told me, and brought them back here and did a lot of…really bad things to them. Experiments and things like that. Ratchet said Preston was the only one he could save that had an actual chance of surviving. He almost didn't though."

"So, Preston was the first?" Brea asked. "To be rescued I mean."

"Yeah," Annie replied, placing the dried plants back into their boxes. "I guess Ratchet is one of Optimus's old war buddies and he went to him and told him about what was happening with us. That's when the idea of the Sanctuary came in. I was brought in probably about two months after that. Maybe a little longer, I'm not too sure. I was still pregnant at the time too. Becky was born here in the Sanctuary."

Brea had smiled a little at that, "Yeah, Caleb told me everyone freaked out."

"Oh yeah!" Annie's face lit up with mirth and she laughed. "I had to keep yelling instructions at everyone on what to do, all through the labor pains. During the whole thing! I read every baby book in existence so I knew what was going to happen, oh but poor Preston. He didn't have clue. He looked so faint when the baby finally came out. He held her in his arm and said, 'It's a girl…I think'. I'm surprised he didn't faint."

Brea was silent for a moment before asking, "We're you scared?"

Annie didn't answer right away and when she did, her voice was soft, "I was terrified. I couldn't stop thinking about my husband and how much I wished he was there to see his daughter or just to hold my hand and tell me it was alright. It's scary when you have to take charge when you're use to following. Even though I knew what was going to happen, I was so scared I would do something wrong or forget something. I thought, what if I die and there's no one around to take care of her for me? What if the baby dies? How could I live on without her or Evan? But everything went fine. Becky was perfectly healthy. But I was still sad that there was a very high chance that Evan will never meet his child and that Becky will never meet her father. I miss him so much. She's so like him, even her laugh. She has his eyes. I see him whenever I look at her. It's comforting in a lot of ways, but sometimes it makes me sad." She paused and took a refueling breath, "But I know we're safe here, so it's okay. I know he'd be glad to know we're safe. I can only hope he's been as lucky."

Annie, it seemed, was one of those rare people who seemed to have an innate ability to survive without really trying. She was an anomaly for sure; she new how to do thing that most people had not a clue of. Knowledge was her strength and with that, their small community was able to flourish. She would have made a wonderful history teacher, Brea thought. Had Annie not been there, Brea was very sure things would have been much different in the Sanctuary. And despite all her obvious strengths, she was still a woman. And a mother. She was just like Brea in that she was just as scared and felt just as vulnerable. It defiantly gave Brea something to think about.

Zoë and Izzy were remarkably resilient for their age. She hadn't really seen them cry or break down, but she suspected they might have past that stage of the game. In all retrospect, Brea wasn't sure if they fully understood where they were or the situation they were in. They spent most of their time playing, running around and climbing trees. The only time she had seen either of them cry was when Zoë came running into the camp sobbing and covered in mud. Fixit and Stakeout had dropped by for visit, as well as a check up on Preston, and the little girl ran immediately to Fixit, who it seemed was Zoë's favorite Mech to come crying to. Through her tears, she managed to explain (accuse rather) that Izzy had pushed her into a mud puddle near the garden. Stakeout then assured the teary-eyed girl that he would seek the wrong-doer out (in a rather frivolous and over the top display of chivalry that made everyone snigger, but also managed to finagle a smile from Zoë) and bring him to justice. He then went out into the trees to find the culprit, only returning when he had found, and caught, the guilty-faced boy; striding into camp with him strung over his shoulder like some prize. It was funny to see the two Mechs berating the young boy on his abhorring behavior and how he was to treat his sister from now on. On top of that, he had several other adults to answer to once the Micromasters were done. Poor Izzy had looked so pitiful and guilty-faced Brea was tempted to comfort him, but decided it wasn't her place to undo the other's disciplinary tactics. Then there was the time Izzy fell out of a tree and it took Craig a good ten minutes to calm the boy down. He had been more scared then hurt, brandishing long scraps along his arms that needed little more then a good washing and a kiss from Annie, despite the boy's protest that he was too old for such treatment.

Craig, Brea had noticed, was a very quiet, reserved person; rather he was very good at keeping secrets. It wasn't hard to understand why he didn't like talking about his life or what he'd been subjected to, only mentioning anything about himself before his capture in small, seemingly random, moments of openness. Just like Caleb and his brothers, Craig was an ex-arena fighter. Perhaps the boys knew the more detailed facts, and maybe Annie, but Brea didn't. And she wasn't eager to try and divulge information she really was not keen on knowing. If he didn't want to talk about it, it was fine. Despite his secretiveness, he was very social, very friendly. He loved to laugh and joke as much as the boys, and seemed to have taken up the father figure role just as Annie had been taken up as the Mother. All four of them had been rescued from a euthanization compound; Craig had lost a match, was injured, and was had been sent off to be killed. There was no attempts at healing sick or injured fighters. The boys however, had been more of a paradox. Sean had told Brea that he and Rodney had learned their younger brother had been sent off to be killed. Hearing this, and in protest, both brothers refused to fight and were soon shipped off to be killed as well. Mechs had little patience for insubordination it seemed. It was a lucky chance that they had all ended up in the same compound and that such a place would be the target of a rescue by the former Autobots. Craig helped take care of the three youngest of their group and was usually the driving force of much of their excursions like the pantry and garden. Annie was usually the mastermind. All in all, it was a nice situation. They were all like a family. And Preston was the crazy Uncle.

The boys were just as one would imagine three brothers would be; loud, disgusting, and competitive. Sean was the oldest, followed by Rodney, and then Caleb. Sean and Rodney always seemed to be wrestling or arguing or complaining or trying to out-do one another. Caleb was far more mild mannered then his brothers, and was regularly on the receiving end of their jabs and jokes. It was well intended, anything to distract them from reality or what they had seen.

And then there was Brea.

The group always included her in everything they did, even prompting her to join in discussions and games. She was still timid about some things but they always tried to give her a push to get her going, especially Caleb. The one time they had convinced her to play football, they got a little peeved when she called it soccer, with them she ended up spraining her big toe; soccer was a sport best played with shoes. How the boys managed not to break their toes with how much they played was a feat in and of itself. She opted to be the spectator and help settle disputes when an argument broke out. And there was always an argument. Despite all their assurance of inclusion, she still felt like an outsider, not quiet fitting in just yet. Annie assured her that it was only a matter of time and that they were determined to accept her in their ranks, whether she liked it or not. That had been a great reassurance to Brea and started attempting to push herself into joining in activities; be they conversations or chores, though Annie seemed reluctant to give her any sort of work load. So far it seemed to be working, if only on the surface.

And even Kimberly seemed to start opening more, if only a little. She still clung to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker like glue, but Brea noticed she followed her around a lot more. Brea thought perhaps Kimberly might have been angry at her for prior occurrences, but whenever Brea found herself alone, Kimberly would appear seemingly out of nowhere and spend a few minutes sitting. She would listen to Brea talk or simply watch whatever it was Brea was doing at the time. Brea didn't mind. It was nice to have her around, even if it was always very quiet.

Along side the Pantry were the 'bathrooms' or the equivalent to such. There were two stalls, one for girls and one for boys, that each held a very odd looking toilet thing. They were metal and resembled the toilets on airplanes more then the porcelain thrones of modern American house holds; odd, small, and very alien looking. Still, it was a vast improvement. They had been Annie's idea; leave it up to a woman to convince giant alien robot to fabricate a proper toilet.

But Brea had not come for the toilets or for food. She walked past all that, the Pantry and restrooms, and made an unsteady beeline for the water fountain. It was a pump, essentially, positioned next to the stalls. She lowered herself to her knees and pulled the handle and waited for a moment before plunging her head underneath the faucet, allowing the painfully freezing water to drench her head, drowning out all thoughts. She pulled herself away and turned it off, leaning over and allowing her soaking hair to drip. She stayed there, eyes focusing on the ground as the water seeped into the grass and dirt. Her hands clenched at her sides and she shivered.

She heard an odd sound coming from one of the stalls and she jerked around to see Kimberly exit one of them. She held her arms close to her body as she all but snuck out of the toilet, obviously not wanting to be seen, discreetly shutting the door behind her and turning around. Upon seeing her, Kimberly froze and, perhaps for a moment, she thought she was someone else and looked as though she was about to panic but it passed when she realized it was Brea. At first, they just stared at each other as if unsure what to do. Brea made no move or indication of anything, just sat and stared through wet tangles of hair. And likewise, Kimberly watched from where she stood, hands pinching folds of the dress she wore.

Kimberly's eyes were a bright green and after a few moments, Brea found it hard to look at them. Turning away, Brea raised a hand to wipe away the water on her face. The top of her dress was wet from the water pump and she was cold. She heard the footsteps so when Kimberly suddenly appeared beside her, she wasn't startled. Kimberly crouched down next to her, one warm hand resting on Brea's shoulder, and tilted her head as if the awkward angle would reveal more then a vertical one.

And then she noticed it…a strange scent. Brea turned to look at Kimberly, puzzled. "Kimberly? Are you…wearing perfume?"

The girl suddenly smiled and nodded eagerly. She pointed off into the trees and jerked her head as if asking, 'do you want some?' "No thank you," Brea said softly. Kimberly looked disappointed. Then she reached out and brushed away a strange of hair, gently tucking it behind Brea's ear, and took her hand in hers. She gently tugged, motioning towards the trees with her head. Brea shook her head at the attempted persuasion. "No Kimberly, please. Not right now. I…I have a lot on my mind. I just need to be alone for a moment."

Kimberly suddenly took a hold of her head, framing her face with her warm hands, squishing her cheeks together in a very comedic way that seemed to rip apart Brea's melancholy disposition. She stared directly into Brea's eyes and shook her head. And smiled.

Brea followed along more out of exhaustion then anything. She didn't possess the resolve at the moment to resist Kimberly's eager nudges. It was simply easier to follow along without complaint or comment. As she trailed behind the red haired girl, Brea began to notice her drowsiness more and more. The nightmare had stolen away a peaceful night's sleep and her body begged her to attempt to regain some of it.

Kimberly led her to the same clearing from before, Brea could tell by the indentions in the grass from where Sideswipe had been laying. Apparently that was his spot. Passing through, Kimberly led her towards a tight cluster of trees in the back. The formation made a sort of alcove, with just enough room between two trees for someone to squeeze through. Brea followed Kimberly inside and blinked at what she saw. Strung from the branches that arched across the top of the trees like a canopy, were numerous objects and do-dads; jewelry, Christmas lights, glass bulbs, pieces of colored clothe, and what looked like jewels. There was color everywhere! It was small and most of the alcove's floor was dominated by the sleeping pad, but the area that was not was occupied by a couple boxes. It was beautiful.

Kimberly strolled over to one of the boxes and began foraging inside. Brea, slowly stepping inside, looked at the seemingly random paraphernalia that was strung around and there was a particular section that captivated her the most; a collection of glass and plastic bottles. Shards of colored glass were strung together in front of a small opening and light poured in through them, speckling the room in colored beams of light like a prism. It reminded her of the stained glass windows of those grand old cathedrals and she smiled. It was like…Kimberly's personal sanctuary.

A scene from the movie 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' flashed in her mind; where Quasimodo leaped from pillar to pillar and hoisted the prone form of Esmeralda above his head, screaming out 'Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Sanctuary!'

Pulling out a curvy bottle with amber liquid inside, Kimberly turned and handed it to Brea. Taking it in her hands, Brea ran her thumb across as she tried to read what the brand was, but it looked French and Brea had taken Spanish in high school. Looking about, Brea took in the sight, feeling a strange sort of elation as she did.

"Where did you get all of this stuff?" She asked. Her answer was to point off in some random direction and Brea hazard a guess. "…Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?"

Kimberly shook her head. Brea remembered Annie and Caleb mentioning that Jazz would bring whatever human things he could find. "Did you get this stuff from Jazz?"

This time she nodded, setting down on the sleeping pad. Brea sank down beside her, studying the perfume bottle as if it were some lost treasure. Kimberly reached out and took the bottle, grabbing Brea's arm and spraying a little onto her wrist. Brea smiled and rubbed her wrists together, bringing them up to her face to smell the aroma. It was a strong, flowery scent and she recoiled when she got a little too strong of a whiff.

Kimberly laughed.

Looking up at the girl in surprise, Brea cried, "You laughed!"

Kimberly blinked, looking slightly confused and then nodded. Brea felt baffled as she tried to wrap her mind around it. "So…Can you really not talk? Or do you just not want to?"

Kimberly looked startled and then seemed to consider it. She shrugged. "You don't want to do you?" Brea asked to clarify.

Kimberly nodded.

"Why not?" She asked. "Is there something…wrong? Do you talk to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker at all?" Kimberly raised her hand and flapped it in a 'so-so' gesture. Brea paused and looked down at her perfumed wrists before returning to look up at the other girl.

"…would you talk to me?" Brea asked.

Kimberly, in a very teenage fashion, shrugged. Brea sighed. "Because…I'll listen. If you ever need to…or just want to talk. If something's bothering you or if you have something you don't want to…or can't tell those two. You can tell me. We can…" she hesitated before adding, with a touch of hopefulness, "…help each other."

Kimberly was silent for a long moment staring at Brea. She didn't turn away from her green eyes this time; instead she stared back, desperate for an answer, for some release. Finally, Kimberly smiled and said in a small, almost worn, voice, "Okay."

Brea felt an elation rise up when she finally heard her voice and she couldn't suppress her smile. She had reached out and in return, Kimberly had reached back; successful social and verbal contact! And so, in confidence, Brea told her…everything.

When Brea returned to camp, Kimberly came with her. She wasn't sure if it was because of what she had told her or if she was just hungry. Either way, Brea saw it as a big step forward. Already she was beginning to feel like her old self. How strange, bearing one's soul seemed to purge all ill thoughts away, if not only for a moment.

The red head had listened to all her prattling and never interrupted. Perhaps she would understand and in turn, Brea would be able to help her. She found it comforting to finally tell someone, a human who could possibly understand and sympathize, her story and the worries she held inside so tightly. She felt lighter, more nimble, and, most importantly, more receptive. At the end of it, Brea wiped away her tears, composed herself, and looked to the girl across from her for some form of acknowledgement; something inside was terrified that Kimberly might reject or scorn her. On all fours, Kimberly turned and crawled to the head of her sleeping pad and pulled up the covers, seeming to search for something hidden amongst the folds. Sitting on her knees, Kimberly turned back to her and held out the object to Brea as if to say 'Ta-da!'

For a moment…she just stared at it; unsure and confused. Gazing back at her with hollow black eyes was a teddy bear; stained, worn, and ripped, some of the stuffing had clumped together at the bottom of its right leg, and its left eye was missing. Brea looked from the bear to Kimberly uncertainly.

Kimberly pushed the teddy bear into Brea's arms. Hands hovered over the pitiful doll hesitantly and she gingerly ran a finger across its little nose, feeling the smooth black plastic. She took it up in her arms and stared at it, feeling odd.

Looking back at Kimberly, Brea suddenly found it hard to speak. "Is…is this for…me?"

Kimberly nodded, smiling brilliantly. She looked down wistfully at the bear and ran a finger over its fuzzy head. Her voice was strained, and it was obvious speaking was still difficult for her, "It…helped me."

She let those words sink in before replying. "T-thank you…" Brea said, pulling the teddy bear into an embrace.

Brea had taken the teddy bear with her when they made the short walk to camp, smelling breakfast as they approached. Brea wondered if she should name the teddy bear. When she reached the clearing, everyone was up and about and eating except for Preston and little Becky who it seems were still sleeping. The three brothers sat close together, quietly eating their soup while Izzy and Zoë stayed close to Craig, giggling over something. Brea looked over to see that Izzy had spilled some of his soup down his front and Annie walked over to wipe it away with the hem of her dress.

As Brea emerged from behind the trees, Annie looked up and smiled. "Oh! Brea, I was wondering where you went. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she replied. She didn't miss the curious glances she was getting, or rather the ragged old teddy bear was getting. Glancing back, Brea saw Kimberly peeking out from behind a tree a little ways off. "Could I have a bowl to give to Kimberly?"

Everyone looked up from their breakfast and looked around as if to find the girl, perhaps wondering if they needed to move away for her comfort. Annie grabbed one of the metal bowls beside her and filled one up, handing it to Brea as she approached. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she replied and was about to turn and bring Kimberly her food when Annie stopped her. "Oh, Brea?"

She paused and glanced back, "Yeah?"

"Could you watch Becky for a few hours today? We're all going to be working in the garden and we need someone to watch her. And could you keep an eye on Preston too?"

Brea smiled and nodded, "Sure. I can do that."

"Thank you," the raven haired woman replied, "I've set aside some broth for him when he wakes up. Just give him that. And there's a bottle for Becky next to the bed."

Brea ate breakfast with Kimberly, sitting side by side a little ways off from camp where she could feel comfortable. It was a silent meal for the most part, but Brea didn't mind. She had a lot to ponder, and for once…it wasn't the doom and gloom of her own thoughts. Instead, she ransacked her mind, trying to find anything that she might have forgotten to tell Optimus and Prowl when they had interviewed her. Something that could help the investigation; names, places, events. Anything.

Brea was staring intently into her soup when Kimberly tapped her on the shoulder. Looking over, she saw Kimberly make a face at her; cheeks puffed up, lips pursed, and eyes crossed. Brea laughed, coughing a little when she accidentally inhaled some of her soup, making the other girl giggle. Beside them, the teddy bear said nothing.

It was a few minutes later that Annie called out that they were leaving for the garden and Brea went on ahead but Kimberly waited until the others had gone before entering the camp. Washing and putting their bowls away, Brea walked into the shed she shared with Annie and picked Becky up, wrapped in her blankets. The baby stirred, whimpering in protest at being disturbed, before settling and falling back into blissful slumber. Sitting down near the fire pit, Brea gently swayed the infant, still not quite sure what to do. She'd never babysat an infant before.

Kimberly sat down beside her, staring at Becky curiously.

"Wanna hold her?" Brea asked. Kimberly looked up at Brea, startled, but her expression softened again and after a hesitant moment, she nodded.

Brea carefully shifted Beck in her arms and gently transferred her over to Kimberly, instructing the girl on how to hold her just as Annie had told her.

"Her names Becky," Brea said as she watched Kimberly stare at the small child, looking vaguely awe-struck. She inserted her finger into the tiny infant hand, pudgy little fingers latching on instinctually. "Do you have any siblings Kimberly?"

She shook her head without looking at her. "You?"

"Yeah," Brea replied, "A younger brother. His name's Joey."

Kimberly looked up. "Where?"

"I don't know," Brea admitted sadly. "I can only hope he's with my parents and that they're some place safe."

Kimberly's eyes narrowed and she said solemnly, "No such thing."

"Maybe," Brea replied, "But it's not so much the place as it is the people. We're safe here. They're Mech up there working really hard to keep us safe. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker…they seem to care a lot for you."

"They rescued me," Kimberly replied softly.

"They'd never let anyone hurt you," Brea replied and Kimberly nodded. Then Brea looked dismayed, "But…why do they think Caleb attacked you?"

Kimberly seemed to sink into herself, holding Becky close to her chest.

"Did he really attack you?" Brea asked, anxious for an answer or explanation. "He just…doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would do something like that."

"He grabbed my arm," Kimberly replied in a small voice. "I got scared."

"And you scratched him?" Brea asked, recalling Sean mentioning something to that effect.

"Yeah," Kimberly replied.

"Are you scared of all the guys?" Kimberly nodded without hesitation and Brea didn't know whether to pity her or scold her.

"They're not going to do anything to you. Everyone seems to be worried about you, actually," Brea replied.

Kimberly's head snapped up, eyes wide and confused. "…really?"

"Yeah," Brea replied, surprised that the statement was such a revelation. "They just want to help you. They're trying to help everyone; it's just that…well. They're afraid you might...hurt yourself if they get to close, that you might go wild and stuff. Annie's really worried about you too. I guess it's her maternal instinct kicking in."

Kimberly suddenly looked ill and she looked away. "My Mom's gone."

For a long moment, Brea didn't know what to say. Finally, she just sighed and reached out to her, gently placing one hand on her shoulder. "I know. And I'm sorry. And I know there are things…men have done to you, but you can't blame these guys for what those creeps did to you. None of these guys ever hurt you, did they?"

Brea had expected an immediate answer, a shake of the head or a quiet 'no', but instead, she received silence and her heart dropped with dread. "None of these guys…they didn't…hurt you right?" She asked again, fearful she might receive the answer she feared. "They aren't some of the guys…Caleb isn't…?"

"I don't know," Kimberly replied, sinking further into herself.

"How can you not know? Did Caleb rape you or not?" Brea asked, almost yelling, with a little more forceful then she meant and only realized so when Kimberly hunched her shoulders and began to sob, clutching Becky to her. Brea felt a wave of remorse.

"I don't know!" Kimberly sobbed. "I don't remember!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. Don't cry, please, don't cry," Brea felt like crying though. She didn't want to hear that Caleb could have possibly done something so…horrific. She eased closer to the crying girl and wrapped her arms around her, trying to give her some comfort, to let her know she wasn't going to leave her. In a voice that was almost a whisper, she asked, "Kimberly, please. I have to know…did Caleb…did he really?"

Kimberly hiccupped and swallowed thickly, "I don't know."

The answer burned holes through Brea and she lowered her head in defeat, laying her forehead on her shoulder. "They put me in with him…like the other times," Kimberly continued, voice retracting into a mousey, timid, little squeak, "And I got really scared. I was so scared…"

Brea was breathing heavy now, almost hyperventilating. She unconsciously hugged Kimberly tighter. No, no…Caleb couldn't be such a horrible person as that…he wouldn't. How could anyone?

"He…was talking to me. I don't remember what he said," Kimberly went on, voice breaking, "And he reached out and grabbed my arm….and I screamed."

Brea didn't know if she wanted to hear this. She didn't want to know…

"…and then I passed out."

Brea froze, looking up. "You…passed out? Before he did anything? You fainted?"

Kimberly nodded with a gutsy sob.

"Before you saw him do anything?" She asked desperately, pulling away and staring intently into the girl's green eyes. "He didn't touch you?"

"…I don't know," Kimberly admitted with a small shake of her head, seeming to finally calm a little. "I was back…in my cage when I woke up." A pause. "Viral was really mad."

Brea suddenly felt a wave of relief. "He didn't do anything to you," She said with awe, as if some great revelation had taken place. She began to ramble in her overwhelming relief, "When I asked him about it…he…he got really upset. He said he didn't like you looking at him they way you do, like he was a devil or something. He said he didn't touch you. That they just shoved you in together and told him to…he didn't though. Kimberly, he didn't touch you!"

Brea looked at her with enthusiasm, waiting for her repsonse. But Kimberly was looking at her funny and Brea's smile faded and she blinked, letting go of her. A long moment passed and Brea looked at the other girl suspiciously, "What?"

Her cheeks were still stained with tears when she suddenly brightened and she smiled knowingly.

Brea looked at her askance. "What?"

"You like him." The world suddenly seemed to have flipped and Brea abruptly found herself in the interrogation chair. Emotions already running high, she flushed and scoffed, pulling away completely. "I do not!"

"You do," Kimberly replied, smile widening and leaning forward. "You like him."

"He's just a friend," Brea insisted, blush doubling.

"You're in love with him," Kimberly replied with a laugh.

"It's not love!" She said, "It's just…it's not…."

"…you like him." Kimberly grinned wickedly, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

Brea felt indignant and refused to answer. Kimberly pounced, scotching close. "That's why you were crying…"

"How was I supposed to act when one of my friends is accused of raping someone?" Brea countered bitterly. "It's not a small deal!"

"You were afraid," Kimberly replied, seeming to come to some sort of revelation herself, "That if he did…you couldn't…it wouldn't be right love him anymore."

Brea got to her feet and abruptly announced, "I'm gonna go give Preston his broth."

Author's Note part 2: Sorry for the lack of any Mechs in this chpater really. But they're around. As I mentioned somewhere, this phase of the story is more of a interlude. But just keep in mind things will be picking up within the next few chapters. I promise. You may even hate me by the time we reach that point. Anyway, as always: I appriciate all feed back and comments, so please leave a review! Thankies!