A/N: I got a few reviews I couldn't respond to since they weren't logged-in reviews but nonetheless, ty for them. :)

Chapter Thirty Six - Sterile White Walls:

He was going to have to take the stairs again. He hated stairs now. Especially staircases that had an entry on every floor. He cursed himself for having taken out the elevator. There was always the freight elevator but who knew how those were currently operating, or if they were operating at all.

Racing down the sterile hallway he slid to a halt beside the exit staircase, looking through the pane of glass. The lights in the staircase were blinking haphazardly, tossing an eerie glow over the steps. Glancing back the way he had come, he knew if anyone came looking they would know exactly who had come tonight. He had left glass littering the carpet outside Jack's office, the hacker stashed inside under the desk. Turning back to the exit door he mentally sighed and took that route, coming out onto the landing and glancing upward toward the roof.

Had it really only been a day since he had come this way with Ed and Faye? It seemed so much longer somehow. He looked down toward the landings below and all the lights were flickering as if they had been smashed or damaged. Cautiously, he began to climb down, aware that he could hear some sort of commotion far off but he couldn't tell where it was coming from exactly. The sub-levels meant he would have to head back toward the main floor and then find a way further down. But if the elevators and password consoles were down, he had no idea how he was going to accomplish it. Only that he had bought himself some time to make his way to them.

Which also meant that if anyone was coming for him, they would have to use the emergency staircases.

He hurried then, taking the landings and staircases as if he flew, unaware that he was even taking steps. Only that stairs were flashing past him as he raced and hopped from one landing to the next, stumbling at times and sliding others. The floor numbers flew by him as well as he made his way down, from the twenties to the teens until he stopped along the fifth warily. So much noise and commotion. The further down he had climbed, the noisier it had become but still there was no one in the emergency staircases. He paused on the fifth floor landing and peeked through the glass looking out into the floor but he saw nothing except more flickering lights. Sporadic bursts of electricity.

It was possible they weren't even after him, he understood then. If someone else had set off that explosion, it was possible someone else had come with a score to settle concerning Black Jack. He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the trigger of his Jericho. What were the chances someone else had come along to take him out as well? And wasn't the enemy of his enemy his friend?

He shook his head at that one. He didn't need friends like those. He only had one thing to do here before he could leave. And that was to get to the sub-levels and locate Faye.

Taking the staircases one more level, he had barely made it to the fourth floor before a door banged open below, voices filling the corridor. Immediately, without even thinking, he flung open the emergency exit door before him and threw himself back into the complex. Slipping sideways, pressing against the wall as the door slid shut silently, he listened intently as footsteps pounded up the staircases, reaching the fourth floor and then continuing onward, the flickering bulbs lighting the way. Cautiously, he peered out through the pane of glass in the emergency exit door, frowning when he realized that the men in the staircase wore no uniform but were heavily armed.

"Ok. Not security," he murmured, observing them as they continued on up the staircases. He glanced down the hallway he stood in, Jericho pressed to his side at the ready. All that greeted him was a gaping hole where the elevator had once been. That had been his fault, he thought with a mental sigh. In retrospect, perhaps taking out the elevator had been a bad idea. But at this point, continuing down the emergency staircase would also be a bad idea. But other than the freight elevators he had no other way to descend to the sub-levels. He would have to give those freight elevators a go.

Pulling away from the wall, he ducked under the pane of glass in the exit door as he swept past, keeping himself low. He moved down the hallway, glancing around as he went. This part of the complex still seemed to be made of offices, with names on doors and password consoles dormant.

Taking several turns as the floor went on, he found the elevator at the end of the corridor. And upon reaching it, he felt a small chill run down his spine as he realized there was no electricity to power the freight elevator to take him down to the sub-levels. "Shit," he grumbled. And he should have known this was going to be a problem but he had just wanted to get down to the sub-levels. Time felt as if it was running out on him and to be in the building with heavily armed people was beginning to poke at him in a bad way. He lifted his head, his palm pressing to the doors of the elevator. He could pry it open the way he had with the other elevator doors. But then the problem persisted. He didn't know how far down the sub-levels were, how many floors he would have to climb down to reach them. He could try to make it back toward the emergency exits but even if there was no one to stop him from reaching the main floor again he didn't know how to make it down to the sub-levels from the main floor.

But he wasn't one to give up either. It would just take a bit more thought to figure out a way to-

The elevator console suddenly blinked to life, the up and down arrow buttons flickering momentarily before flaring up with a steady yellow glow. Spike stared at it, suspiciously at first, a frown creasing his brow. The hacker had cut all the power. He had made sure of it. Did Black Jack have another hacker up his sleeve, pulling him out only when his first failed him?

Reluctantly, Spike pushed the down arrow button.

Down below, the freight elevator made a small dinging sound. And then came the low rumble of the elevator as it began to climb up toward him. Spike cocked his head to listen, his fingers tightening once more on his Jericho's trigger. Taking a step back, he waited as the freight elevator reached the fourth floor and he already had his weapon aimed when the doors slid open with a soft swish.

There was no one inside.

Swinging the Jericho tightly, he took a step and peeked upward, the Jericho following his eyes but the small space in the elevator was empty. He pushed a foot out against one of the edges of the elevator to keep it open and he glanced in at the elevator buttons. They numbered from the Lobby to the top floor and his eyes came to rest on the blank gray button just below the button for the main floor.

The hacker had said sub-levels. Plural.

Clenching his jaw, Spike entered the elevator fully and punched at the blank button, lowering the Jericho slightly. This whole thing was a disaster for him waiting to happen. But as the elevator doors closed he realized he was unafraid. A bit on the tense side but standing in the middle of the freight elevator, knowing where he was going but uncertain how he was going to get there, he suddenly felt a sense of relief in knowing that everything he was doing was out of his control. Just something he had to do with no way of knowing how or where it would end up. Sometimes he was happy following life, fate. But sometimes he liked to be in control of his life. The elevator ride, with the past behind him and the future waiting for him, left him both at ease and relieved.

What was life except an uncertain path in the end?

The freight elevator slowed and stopped several moments later. And as the doors opened he lifted his Jericho, keeping it aimed ahead of him. But there was no one on the other side of those doors. Nothing greeted him except sterile gray floors and white walls. If he had suspected the upper levels of being uncontaminated and clean, this was an entirely new take on the concept. He slowly left the freight elevator, caution forcing him to keep his weapon gripped tightly before his tense frame. On this level he became aware of the fact that the power running through this part of the facility was unwavering. There were no flickering lights, no change in temperature, and no scent of destruction in the air. This was clean air, a cool setting and complete silence.

"This is a lab," he uttered, realizing a moment later he had spoken aloud. He clamped his mouth shut, coming out into the corridor. Doors on either side of him remained closed and password protected, the sound of power thrumming all around him steadily. Back up generators? There had to be something big down here. He moved down the silent hallway, one foot in front of the other, almost floating. There was something undeniably eerie about this sub-level, downright spooky. He'd been in labs before, operated on. He'd even blown up labs before. But there was something strange and almost horrifying about this complex. Something sinister.

Reaching the end of the hallway he took a slight turn and came up on three doors. Another set of emergency staircases. Another elevator, fully functional. And one last door with a password console, the red light seeming to glare at him as it denied him access.

If Faye was in that room, how was he to know?

The password console before him beeped in the silence, the sound echoing around him. Stiffening, glancing over his shoulder back the way he had come, he blinked as the red light suddenly lit up green. Backing away a step, he merely stared as the doors swished open, revealing a large gray chamber to him. Beside him, the elevator also beeped before the doors swished open for him.

"This whole fucking place is haunted," he growled, uncertain whether to move or remain where he stood but knowing that he wanted to shoot something to make the threat real.

Glancing back toward the chamber, he leaned in a bit to search the room. There were several large control panels fixed into consoles throughout the room, all positioned directly before tall, cylindrical tubes. He stared, his lips parting. Cryolabs, the hacker had said to him. This was a cryolab. An empty cryolab. Spike took a small step forward, his eyes searching the consoles but they seemed to be offline, dormant. Faye wasn't in any of those tubes. Taking that same step back, Spike turned his head toward the elevator, reluctant. This wasn't the same elevator he had destroyed. Moving cautiously toward the elevator, he glanced in at the buttons against the wall panel.

There were four buttons. Three of them labeled Cryolabs, the last button labeled Medlab. He was currently on the upper level of the sub-levels, Cryolab One. Pulling back from the elevator, he glanced toward the emergency exit and peered through the pane of glass.

He preferred emergency exits over elevators anyway.

Leaning his weight on the bar, he pushed open the emergency exit, lifting his Jericho to the staircase directly before him. It led up one long staircase to a single door labeled Exit in brilliant red. Pointing the Jericho downward, he hesitated from taking a step, needing to hear for a moment. There was nothing but the sound of electricity, of the backup generators. Slowly, haltingly, Spike took the staircase down, coming onto the mid-landing and peering down to the second landing below. Nothing but silence. Climbing down, he found himself on the second sub-level, reaching out to open the door warily. It came open silently, a blast of cool air pushing his hair back slightly as he poked his head through the door to look in. He was in another hallway, just as sterile as the ones above, but this one seemed to have more labs, more rooms. Lining the entire floor, all the password consoles were lit up green. All seeming to invite him.

Someone was definitely on his side. But he refused to believe it was a higher power.

All the offices he looked into were empty. Even the cryolab stood empty, all the cylindrical tubes lifeless. Which left one more floor of labs and the medical bay. He found a second emergency staircase at the end of the floor, spinning around as a second elevator on the far side suddenly uttered a soft ding. Instantly, he flung himself through the emergency exit and pressed to the wall as the door slipped shut behind him. The elevator made another small sound, now muffled through the emergency doors. Careful to stay as low as he could, Spike glanced through the pane of the window as someone flew past the emergency exit, dressed in a dark suit. And he knew that figure.

Half of him wanted to burst out after him, demand to know where Faye. The other part of him understood that it could quite possibly be easier to do the searching himself with Black Jack occupied elsewhere. He waited, listening as the man searched the entire floor before returning to the elevator and disappearing into it. Even as the doors were closing behind him, Spike was already making his way down. Pausing outside the door leading to the third cryolab floor, he glanced in the direction of the elevator. It had stopped on the first sub-level. Black Jack seemed to be making his way up to his complex above ground. He was going to be in for a big surprise when he got out.

Pulling open the door he slipped in, glancing around. Completely silent and sterile. Searching the doors, he floated down the hallway, searching for the cryolab itself. This was the last one. She had to be in that lab. If she wasn't he could only hope to find her in the Medlab. And if she wasn't there he would have to track down Jack and force him to spill Faye's whereabouts. He moved down the corridor, racing past offices and taking turns haphazardly. Rounding about to the other side of the floor, he slowed upon reaching the second emergency exit and elevator. And one last lab, the password console lit green. Drawing near, he pressed his palm to the console, the doors swishing open.

Entering through the doors, Spike slid to a dead stop, his lips parting.

This was obviously the only operating cold room. He stared, drawing closer to the cylindrical tubes spread vertically throughout the large room, his eyes caught by the very first and foremost tube. Bordered on one side by a control console, Faye hovered in blue water in the cylinder, her eyes closed, her figure nude. Her hair floated on bubbles that slipped free of the tube lining and drifted up toward the surface. She seemed unconscious, her limbs floating limply in the fluid, her bare feet hardly touching the cylinder floor. Encasing her mouth and nose was an oxygen mask, her chest rising and falling with subtle breaths.

Heart beating just a bit irregularly, Spike came to and quickly searched the room for medical personnel or technicians, instantly lifting his Jericho cautiously. But there was no one in the room except himself and Faye. And she was not conscious to care herself. Drawing closer to the cylinder, a frown crossing his brow, Spike studied her for a long moment silently. Then, warily, he lifted a hand and pressed it to the glass of the tube.

Faye's eyes slid open slightly as if sensing him, her gaze unfocused.

"Faye." His voice came low at first. But then, as he moved closer to the tube, he spoke louder to rouse her. "Faye."

Her eyes fluttered sleepily, closing for a long moment before opening again. And then she seemed to see him, her vision focusing. Behind the oxygen mask he could make out his name on her lips as she mouthed it faintly, her eyes losing their focus for the smallest moment before seizing it once more. Her arm shifted, her hand lifting and upsetting several more bubbles around her frame. And then she was touching the glass from her side, fingers trailing across his palm pressed to the tube.

His eyes skirting down, they came to rest on her breastbone. There, healing very quickly, were two holes, her pale skin puckering around the wounds. "Restorative practices," he murmured, and he looked toward her shoulder where that gunshot wound was healing as well, void of the stitches Jet had left there. Her bruises were gone, her face a light blue in the shade of the tube sheltering her.

"I think…you are one of the luckiest people I have ever known," he whispered distractedly through barely moving lips, his eyes searching out any other wound that he remembered her having. In but a few days there would be nothing left of those bullet wounds except faint scars.

Shaking himself and pulling away slightly, Spike examined the cylindrical tube housing her. He doubted it was bulletproof but he was well aware that a single bullet would not shatter that glass the way he needed it to break. His eyes darted toward the console, catching on the swivel chair there. "As if it was waiting for me," he murmured with an inward smile. He left the tube to take hold of the chair, and paused halfway through the motion, his eyes catching sight of a small golden band on the control panel before the cylinder. The remote control to the Redtail. "Oh, someone definitely likes me up there," he whispered. He snatched it up, shoving it into his pocket and then reached for the swivel chair, dragging it back to his position before the cylinder. He turned back toward Faye, aware that she watched him weakly, barely conscious. "You're going to owe me for this one, Romani."

He almost convinced himself that she had read his lips and then smirked at him. But when he looked again her eyes had drifted shut, her lips parting.

Stepping back several feet, he lifted his Jericho and aimed. A moment later he let loose a shot, hearing it punch into the glass of the cylinder, Faye's eyes opening once more in a tired frown. He fired a second round, a foot off from the first and it also cracked the glass, small rivulets of the clear liquid leaking out. One last shot completed a triangle, spider cracks weaving from each and intertwining to mask Faye's form behind it. Putting away his Jericho, Spike moved toward the chair, lifted it into his hands and then swung it roughly at the cylinder.

Glass shattered loudly, almost angrily. And water instantly poured, drenching the front of his suit and his legs as he set the chair down. A moment later Faye came falling out through the cracked glass and he darted forward to catch her reflexively. She was dead weight in his arms and he realized a moment later that getting her out of the facility was going to be tougher than he had initially expected. He quickly ripped the oxygen mask from her face, tossing it back into the shattered tube, and he shook her. "Hey. Hey! Faye, wake up."

Her eyes slid open again, her gaze unfocused.

His mouth tightened as he examined her. "Faye, do you hear me?" he demanded. He dragged her out slowly, almost frantically. He was certain now that someone knew where he was in the building. Someone had to. At this point he was going to have to move for all he was worth. Lifting her to pull her legs through the jagged glass left behind of the cylinder, he dropped to his knees, dragging her limp frame with him. "There's no…possible chance you could walk out of here with me, is there? Maybe save me some trouble?" he asked her wistfully.

Her head fell back, her eyes shutting once more.

"I'm going to take that as a no," he sighed. And he supported her upper body between his knees, draping her frame across his chest and quickly releasing her to pull off his overcoat. It was a bit tough balancing her, maintaining his own stability and attempting to pull the coat off in a hurry. He glanced once more toward the door of the cold room. If guards burst through that door he had no way to hold them off, especially not at the moment. Dragging off his coat he shook it open and draped it over Faye's frame, tucking it around her limbs. "Ok, we're going on a small trip," he said to her and he flipped her over, aware that she was a dead weight in his arms. Grunting through clenched teeth he buttoned the coat over her and slowed slightly when he became aware of small rivulets of red trail across her slick skin. Blood was running down her chest, very slight watery trails of blood. After a moment he continued to button the coat over the trails and then slipped an arm under the back of her knees, his other arm winding under her back. Still no one at the door. Glancing over yet again he waited one small moment before finally rising to his feet, Faye's unconscious form cradled in his arms. "Hey, maybe you can carry my gun? Make yourself useful while I get us out of here?" he suggested, aware that a small spike of apprehension had streaked through him at the sight of the blood.

She didn't bother replying.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he murmured. And he moved toward the doors of the cryolab.