Pieces Coming Together

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cloud asked for the third time.

"Of course I'm sure," Deanna said, sighing with exasperation. "I would do far more than this to get Jo out of there. You know that."

"I know," Cloud said. "I just don't like getting you mixed up in this. It could be dangerous."

"Please," Deanna said, adjusting her breasts in the low-cut dress in the mirror. "I was already in this. You're the one who got dragged in." She looked up, trying to catch his eye in the mirror, but Cloud was staring off into space. "You know she's in there though, right? You saw her on the camera?"

Man, Tifa would have killed me if I said something like that to her. She was always getting into dangerous things. So passionate about her cause, whatever it was that day. She had so much fire…

"Jacob," Deanna said sharply.

"Hmn?" He brought his attention back to her eyes in the mirror.

"Are you ok? You seem a little spaced out. I thought you'd be a little more focused before a mission." She uncapped her lipstick and began applying it carefully to her mouth.

"Mm. Yeah. Sorry," Cloud said, trying to shove his hand through his hair, reminded abruptly that it was long and tied back. The old Cloud was trying to push through, bleeding into his new identity. "It's just…I got in touch with an old friend yesterday. Tifa's missing."

The tube of lipstick hit the floor, cracking up the side of the container. The makeup broke off and rolled across the floor, picking up dust bunnies under the sink. "Missing?" Deanna asked, her voice cracking with the high pitch.

Cloud bent down to pick it up, trying to wipe some of the dirt from the sides, but only succeeding in smearing the soft red on his fingers. "Uh…here."

Deanna held out her hand for the broken piece before dropping it in the trash. "Do you have any idea where she is?"

"No," Cloud said. "Last anyone saw her, she was here in town, looking for me. I'm just worried…"

"What?" Deanna prompted when he didn't continue.

"Tifa can take care of herself," he said, but he felt like he was trying to talk himself into it. "But…what if she started zeroing in on the Brothers and asked the wrong question to the wrong person? She's always getting in over her head." His brows furrowed. "Deanna, are you ok? You look really pale."

Deanna steadied herself on the edge of the sink. "I guess I'm more nervous about this mission than I thought."

Cloud shook himself. He needed to be here, in the present. Of course she was nervous. He was the professional. If he didn't focus, they'd never be able to pull this off. "Don't think about it as a mission. Just treat him like a mark. Keep his attention on you. Make sure he doesn't notice any noises or see anything in his mirrors."

"I don't know," she fretted, patting at a spot on her face with a powder pad. "Are you sure this will work? I look stupid, wearing this in the middle of summer.

Cloud stepped back and examined her. The dark red dress was cinched at the waist, and billowed out into a long, flowing skirt. The top was cut low, shoulderless, but full sleeves were attached under the armpits. With the staggering amount of knowledge at his fingertips, Echo had helped him pin down the driver's regular route in addition to his preferences in companions, and the saleslady had been extremely helpful in finding something that met his likes and complemented her slender form. The dress would definitely catch his eye.

"Don't worry so much. You look fine."

Deanna arched an eyebrow and propped a hand on a cocked hip. "Fine?"

"Um. Nice. Good. Whatever." He reached up to rub his ear, feeling the odd emptiness without his earring. It had been a long time since he'd worn it, but old Cloud was trying so hard to surface. "Are you ready to go? I'll drive you part of the way, but then we'll have to split up and walk."

She pouted for a few seconds, then sighed and took one last look at herself in the mirror. "Well, alright. If you're sure that I look 'nice or good or whatever'."

She was laying it on pretty thick, but Cloud was too distracted to notice her frustration. "Yeah, it's fine." He grabbed his keys from the desk and headed out the door.

She would have started at the place where she was sending my letters, but it was just that communal mail building. I'm sure she would have found her way to Jen from there. Would he tell her where I went? Did he even know? I still have that rental garage, but I haven't used it for a while now. What else did Jen know about me? What other leads could she have followed?

"Hey, slow down!" Deanna said, clacking loudly along behind him. "I can't walk that fast in these heels, y'know."

"Sorry," Cloud said distractedly. Gotta put that out of my head for now. One thing at a time. Focus on the mission.

He stopped and looked back at Deanna, waiting for her to catch up. She looked scared and frazzled.

"Hey," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders when she reached him. "You can do this. Just a few more days, and we'll get Jo out of there."

Deanna took a deep breath and let it out. "Just a few more days."

She had no idea how much time had passed before the blinding light assaulted her eyes again. All she knew was that Ricky was wearing different clothes, and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Tifa could deal with pain. She didn't enjoy it, but she knew how to cope with it. She wouldn't die from it. This thirst was different. How long could she live without food or water?

"Good morning, Tifa."

It's morning? Which morning?

"How are you feeling today?"

"Thirsty," she said hoarsely, attempting to dredge up some saliva to swallow.

"Mm. I bet," Ricky said sympathetically. "You know I don't enjoy this, don't you?" he asked, with a paternal, this-hurts-me-more-than-it-hurts-you grimace. "You're doing this to yourself."

"I'm pretty sure I did not beat the shit out of myself," Tifa said darkly.

"Don't be obtuse," Ricky said condescendingly. "You know what I mean. There are rules, Tifa, and if you can't follow the rules, there are consequences."

"Don't talk me like I'm your child, you sick bastard," she spat.

His face darkened. Finally, she was getting under his skin. "I see you're not ready to play nice yet. We'll speak again at a later date."

"No, wait!" Tifa said, but he was already gone. "Damn it!" she yelled at the empty room, punching the floor in frustration. Her stupid, impulsive reaction would cost her dearly. She could live with the isolation. In fact, she much preferred it to Ricky's company. But she had no idea when she would be getting water again, and that, she couldn't live without.

As the hours/days/years passed, her thoughts grew steadily foggier. At some point, the four thugs had come back to rough her up again. She had pushed herself to her feet and tried to fight, but she was weak and her resistance was little more than an amusement to them. Like most men of their ilk, they couldn't stand to be humiliated by a woman half their size, and they thoroughly enjoyed paying her back.

She had other visitors, too, although most were just passing through and uninterested in the girl huddled on the stone floor. She was pretty sure she had talked to Ricky at least once, although the memory was murky and pale. He didn't leave nearly as much of an impression as the other woman who came to chastise her.

Tifa stared sightlessly in the direction of the drain, pondering how many different types of blood must be mixing together in the bottom.

This is really a boring place. When is Cloud going to get here? Oh…wait. He doesn't know I'm here. That can't be right, though…he must have heard me calling for him. Did I forget to call? Or…

"He stopped answering the phone. Remember?"

Tifa blinked several times and looked up at the beautiful woman. She was wearing Cloud's clothes, gliding along like some kind of angel. A spotlight followed her across the room as she moved.

"But I…found his…apartment," Tifa said, trying hard to pull up the memory. Was it even real? She couldn't be sure.

"He's not yours anymore," the woman said, raising one precisely shaped brow. "You need to stop thinking of him like he is."

"I…I know that," Tifa said, suddenly feeling ashamed of the memories she'd been reliving in the darkness. "But he'll still come save me. I know he still cares about me."

The woman squatted down in front of Tifa, tilting her head curiously to one side while she examined Tifa like an insect. "Are you sure about that? How well do you know him, really? And how much has he changed since he's been with someone who treats him like he matters?"

"I know him better than anyone," Tifa insisted, pulling in a breath that hurt enough to make her eyes water. "He wouldn't change that much. He always wanted…to be…the hero…" Who am I talking to? Who am I talking about? Tifa was alone. She laid back down on the floor, resting her cheek against the cold stone. The brief certainty she'd felt had left her again, and she was suddenly fascinated by the beautiful yellow and white flower directly in front of her face.

It was one of many, suddenly filling the darkness with explosions of color, covering the floor and making up her bed.

"Am I sleeping?" Tifa asked, blinking in confusion at the flower.

"You're not sleeping," said the gentle voice.

"Then how are—"

"It's not important," Aerith said, kneeling down next to her prone friend. She touched a hand to Tifa's cheek.

The fog in her mind dissipated, and Tifa rolled her head to look up at her friend. "Oh. It's you." The memory of her predicament came charging back. "I bet I look pretty pathetic right now."

Aerith smiled sadly. "You look like you've had better days," she admitted.

Tifa scoffed and let her head flop to the side again. "Some rescue, huh? I came here to help Cloud, and now I'm probably going to die in here and he'll never even know."

Aerith sat down next to her in the flowers. She smoothed Tifa's hair with her hand. "Did you know…I was always jealous of how strong you are."

Tifa snorted with laughter. "You don't have to say that."

Aerith frowned. "It's the truth."

Tifa rolled her head to look at the girl in pink. "Aerith…are you really here?"

Aerith smiled faintly. "Well, I suppose that depends on your definition."

"Can you help me? Heal me?" Tifa asked meekly.

Aerith shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

Tifa reached up to grab her hand, rough and bloodied against soft and delicate. "But you can! You did it before. For Cloud—"

"That was different," Aerith said. "There are…" She hesitated and stared off into the distance. "…rules here. Certain events can't be allowed to change."

"Change? From what?"

"It doesn't matter right now," Aerith said. "And I don't have time to explain. I just came to tell you that…you don't always have to be strong. Sometimes you have to bend before you break."

"I don't know how," Tifa said wearily. "I'm stuck in a black hole with no food or water…I'm injured with no potions or materia…and no one knows I'm here."

"I've never known you to give up so easily," Aerith said disapprovingly.

"Easily?!" Tifa sputtered, sitting up with an effort. "I tried, Aer! I had a plan! I tried to fight back! I don't know what else to do."

Aerith frowned. "I just told you. You have to bend, or he will break you."

"I don't understand what that means!" Tifa insisted, blood pounding in her head as she got more worked up. "Why do you have to be so vague? Just tell me how to get myself out of this!"

Aerith turned her head away, staring off into the distance for several seconds. She looked like she might cry. "It means…you don't always have to fight back," she said softly.

"So what, I just do nothing? Just lie there and let them beat me?"

Aerith still wouldn't meet her eyes. "Just…do what Ricky says."

"What?!" Tifa grabbed Aerith's chin and forced her to look her in the eyes. "You know what he'll do to me."

A single tear trailed down Aerith's cheek. "I'm sorry, Tifa. I'm so, so sorry. But he will kill you," she whispered. "And you need to stay alive until—"

Suddenly, a green glow fell over the flowers. Aerith's eyes widened in surprise. Tifa's hands went up to feel the forgotten collar. Then the flowers disappeared, and Tifa was left in darkness that was no longer complete.

The darkness was tainted with a sickly green.

Marlene never wanted to leave.

She had always pictured Hubble House as some kind of militaristic boarding house. But they'd had a blast with the kitchen crew, singing loudly while they prepared the food and set up the dining hall for the other kids. And now she was sitting here with Lexi, Denzel, and Alicia, exchanging stories and reliving old times. The food was actually half decent, and laughter bubbled up regularly. It felt like summer camp.

"Hey, do you ever see Niko around anymore?" Lexi asked brightly.

"I saw him around sometimes when he was covering shifts at the bar," Marlene shrugged. "But I haven't been there for a while."

"Aw. I wonder what he's up to," Lexi said.

"Who's Niko?" Alicia asked, twirling her spaghetti with a fork.

"Oh, he's this NWO soldier that stayed with us for a little while when all those monster attacks were happening in Edge," Marlene said. "And then after he left, he still came back to help cover at the bar."

"Ooh, I think I remember him!" Alicia said. "He was cute!"

Marlene busted out laughing. "Lexi had such a huge crush on him!"

"I did not!" Lexi said, but the coloring of her face betrayed her.

"You did too!" Marlene insisted. "It was so obvious. Ask Denzel!"

Denzel looked uncomfortable at being put on the spot, but he finally shrugged one shoulder. "It was pretty obvious, Lexi."

The others laughed, and even Lexi reluctantly grinned. "Well maybe I was just trying to make him feel more welcome after you'd threatened him with a kitchen knife."

Alicia's mouth dropped. "You didn't!"

Denzel sputtered. "I was trying to protect her!" he said, gesturing at Marlene.

"From Niko?!" Lexi demanded. "Niko wouldn't have hurt her!"

"Well I—" Denzel sputtered, looking away. "I didn't know that at the time."

Lexi and Marlene laughed again, but Alicia leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. He looked startled. "Well, I think it was very brave of you," she said. "It's sweet that you wanted to protect your little sister."

Lexi abruptly stopped laughing. Denzel looked irritated. Alicia looked pleased. Marlene looked from one face to another, trying to piece together whatever she had missed.

For all his insistences to the contrary, it sure looked like there was something going on between her brother and his ex. Why was he trying to keep it secret? Marlene swished her spoon around in her applesauce and looked at them appraisingly. Maybe they just needed to get this out in the open.

"Seriously, are you two…"

"No!" Denzel said, so vehemently that the whole table turned to look at him. An awkward silence followed. Denzel glared back, staring down every person who turned their way. Gradually, the conversations around them resumed.

Alicia cleared her throat. "We're trying the friend thing," she said sheepishly.

Lexi snorted softly, although no one else seemed to hear it. Marlene looked at her questioningly, but Lexi didn't look up from her plate.

Denzel stood up. "Well, I've got workgroup on the far side of the grounds tonight. I'll see you guys later."

They said their goodbyes, but the jovial mood seemed to have evaporated. Marlene had no idea what had just transpired, but she was starting to get that feeling she hated so much.

She was out of the loop.

Tifa opened her eyes. She vaguely remembered someone putting that long wand into the back of her collar and urging her to move, but she couldn't. Then the zap came, and she retreated back into the darkness.

"Oh, Tifa. You poor thing," someone cooed.

Above her head, she could see crisscrossed metal bars. Wuzzat? A cage? Her thoughts were dull and sluggish, and that was about as far as she could think beyond her body's immediate condition. She could feel cold, unforgiving metal pressed against the back of her skull. Aches and pains shot through her nerves. Her entire midsection felt battered.

Tifa tried to swallow, but there was no saliva. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, her lips were cracked, and her tongue burned.

"Water," she whispered.

"Of course baby girl, of course I'll get you some water."

A hand slid behind her head to help her lift it, and another held a bottle up to her lips. A tiny trickle dribbled into her mouth. Survival instincts came alive, and Tifa's hands came up to grasp the bottle.

"Ah, ah, ah. Just a little at a time." The bottle was pulled from her hands like candy from a baby. She followed it back through the bars with her eyes.

"Ricky?" she said hoarsely. Even knowing it was he who had done this to her, she couldn't help feeling immensely grateful. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you," he said gently. "I don't like to see my girls hurt. Have you had enough now?"

"No," Tifa said weakly. "I'm still thirsty."

"I didn't mean the water," Ricky said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I meant your discipline. Are you ready to be done with the dungeon? Are you done being stubborn and unreasonable?"

Tifa let her head fall back down onto the unforgiving bars.

He will kill you.

"…Yes," she whispered.

"Yes what?" he prodded.

"I'm ready to do…whatever you want," she said.

A satisfied smile stretched his lips. "Because Daddy knows best," Ricky said. "Say it."

Tifa closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength. "Daddy…knows best…" she murmured.

"Good girl," he purred. He reached through the cage with the bottle again, giving her another small sip. She drank as much as she could in the brief moment it touched her lips, but then it was gone again. It was the most amazing thing she had ever tasted. It couldn't possibly be plain water.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

The water was already clearing her head, seeping into her veins and delivering precious oxygen to her brain. But along with that clarity came the renewal of her screaming nerves.

"Everything…hurts," she said.

"Yes, I'm sure it does," he said soothingly. "Don't you worry, baby girl. I'll take care of you."

Ricky twisted around to reach behind himself, returning with a small vial filled with a viscous purple fluid. He dipped the tip of his finger into the vial and then leaned toward her, touching the finger to her lips.

Tifa kept them closed.

"It's medicine," he said encouragingly. "You've got to learn to trust me."

I trust you, Cloud…

The fragment of memory hit her hard. Her throat tightened and she opened her lips slightly.

A bittersweet taste on the tip of her tongue spread to the rest of her mouth, along with warmth and relief.

"Is that…?"

"An X-potion," he said with smug satisfaction. Those potions were rare and expensive, and the fact that he had one at all meant that he had planned to have someone near death in his care.

"Can I…have more?" She asked meekly.

"Of course," he said with an indulgent smile. He dipped his finger in, all the way to the first knuckle this time. When the potion-coated finger returned to her lips, she opened her mouth eagerly, licking off as much of the pain-numbing liquid as she could reach. But he pulled it away before she was finished, wiping it on the side of his pants. Tifa stared forlornly at the precious liquid being lost to the fabric.

"That's enough for now," he said, corking the vial and getting to his feet.

"Wait! Please," Tifa begged. A metal clank sounded when she grabbed the bars, and for the first time, she realized she was wearing gold handcuffs. "Please, everything hurts so much."

Ricky smirked down at her. "I like hearing you beg," he said.

"Please, I…I need you," Tifa pressed, forcing the words out through burning lips.

He crouched down next to the cage again. "Do you want Daddy to take care of you?" he asked.

Tifa nodded slowly.

"Say it."

"Please…take care of me, Daddy," she whispered.

He tilted his head to the side as he examined her. "Hm. You know, this is just really not doing it for me." He turned around to pick up something from behind him. He turned back with a small, square packet and tore it open with his teeth.

Tifa sucked in a sharp breath, pulling at her injured ribs. Her eyes flooded with pained tears.

Not yet. Not now! It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. I…I can't do this. Help me, Aerith! Please! I know you can!

But comfort didn't come from her friend.

"Oh, don't cry now, baby girl," he said. "Daddy's gonna take care of you."

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes. He was holding the object he'd removed from the little packet. It wasn't what she had feared – just a plain, white cloth, wet with some kind of fluid. He reached through the bars and dabbed it gently on her forehead. A cool, soothing sensation spread outward from the place he had touched. She closed her eyes when he moved it down to her cheeks, feeling the relief spreading across her face. There were pains to which she had become so accustomed that she barely noticed them until they were gone.

"Mmmmm." She sighed.

"Better?"

"Yes," Tifa said. "What is that?"

"It's a cloth dipped in healing solution. You've never used one before?"

"No," she said, her eyes still closed. The sudden absence of tightness made her realize how swollen she had still been.

"There, that looks much better," he said, sounding satisfied. "The Brothers have access to a lot of things you've never seen before, you know. If you would just stop fighting me…" he gently ran the cloth along her jaw, soothing bruised and damaged skin. "I could make this good for you. It doesn't have to be so hard. Eventually, maybe I could even forgive you for taking her away from me."

He ran his fingers lightly across her cheek, and it almost felt back to its normal shape. "I know you're not untouched. You won't be so tight. But it's ok." His fingers trailed to her lips. "You have a beautiful mouth. I bet Fluffy trained you well."

Suddenly reminded of the cost of his kindness, her eyes flew open.

He grasped her chin and turned her face to look at him through the bars. "You did say you were willing to do anything I asked." His eyes locked on to hers and it was a struggle not to squirm.

Seeing her hesitation, his face hardened. "You know you've been a bad girl."

Tifa nodded slowly.

"And you've ruined any trust we might've had."

Tifa swallowed and nodded again.

"You've taken your punishment, but you still don't have my trust. You need to earn it."

"Ok," Tifa whispered.

"I'm going to take care of you now," he said. "And then you're going to take care of me. It won't repay your debt, but it's a start. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Tifa nodded again. "…Yes," she whispered.

"Yes, what?"

Bend. You have to bend before you break.

"Yes…Daddy."

His demeanor softened again. He picked up the vial of thick purple fluid and removed the cork. "Now close your eyes," he said quietly. "Keep them closed. You need to show me you can follow directions. If you open them, you're not getting any more."

She did as he instructed, her lips slightly parted, waiting for the healing potion. The anticipation made the wait seem incredibly long, and she was not at all prepared when he shoved his finger all the way in. She gagged, closing her mouth by reflex.

"Good girl," he purred. "Tighten your lips. Yesssss. Now use your tongue."

She held back the urge to vomit because she could feel the blessed numbness, not only on her tongue now, but spreading throughout her body as she swallowed the precious liquid. He started to withdraw his finger, but she grabbed blindly at his hand and sucked it back in. She didn't know how much he would give her, and she needed to take advantage of every drop.

Cloud sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against the expensive wood finish. He played back the mission in his head, noting all the little mistakes he had made. Deanna had played her part admirably, keeping the delivery driver's attention on her and away from what was going on in the back. But Cloud had struggled with the locks, took too long to find Nicky's order, and by the time he finally got the green powder dissolved into the miso soup, the driver had returned and begun driving away. Cloud had been forced to jump from the moving vehicle. He wasn't sure everything had been put back in the correct order, and he hadn't been able to re-lock the back doors of the van.

Luckily, the driver didn't see him jump out the back, but he wasn't exactly inconspicuous. There were nearly a dozen witnesses, staring at him open-mouthed when he rolled to a stop on the pavement. He'd simply stood up and brushed off his clothes, reassuring any concerned bystanders that he was fine and there was no need to call the police. He had technically completed the mission, but there were so many little things that could still trip them up.

His hip vibrated, but he ignored it. Throughout the day, millions of little data bytes were sent to the phone the Brothers had given him. They contained collected details on all of his clients – their habits, their lifestyles, their finances. That little device was more powerful than any computer he'd ever owned. He hated it with a passion.

It took him a minute to realize that his work phone was in the same place it always was: the pocket of the jacket with the stylized golden B. His jacket was currently hanging by the front door, because he couldn't stand listening to all those little chimes of updated data while he was at home. Which meant that the vibration was coming from his burner phone – the phone number known to a very select few.

He snatched the phone and flipped it open.

New Message from Tifa

"Tifa?" he gasped. He felt a moment of apprehension, and he had no idea why. He'd been trying to reach her for days, worried about the way she had disappeared, and now she was finally responding. Shaking off the feeling, he opened the video message and pressed play. The phone fell from his hand within seconds, just as the laughter started in his head.

'Oh, dear. She really wanted you to see what she was up to, didn't she?'

"Shut up!" Cloud hissed, reaching down to pick up the phone with shaky hands. He didn't want to see it, but he had to watch.

It was extremely close-up and a bit blurry, but it was easy enough to tell that she was desperately sucking on something, being pulled in and out of her mouth. In the background, he could hear heavy breathing and moaning, apparently from the recipient.

Cloud felt sick, but he knew immediately that it wasn't what it appeared to be.

'What have I been telling you, Love? Goodness, I thought she was indifferent to you, but this is downright spiteful.'

"Would you shut up?! That's not what this is!"

He could buy that she might have moved on after he cut off their communication. Although she never showed any interest in anyone else as long as he was there, he had neither demanded of nor given any kind of singular commitment to her. He had just assumed that she was content with the way things were. They were taking one day at a time, and with the state of the world as it was, formal traditions of the past seemed frivolous and unnecessary. He had never given it much more thought than that.

So it was possible that she didn't see their relationship in the same way he did. With everything they had been through together, everything they shared – their home, their work, the kids – their lives were inextricably intertwined. Maybe he had started to take her loyalty for granted. Or maybe Jenova's constant insinuations were finally starting to get under his skin.

But no matter what, even if she did move on, even if she were absolutely furious with Cloud, she would never, ever, have made a video like that and sent it to him. She just didn't have that kind of cruelty within her.

Summoned by Cloud's side of the argument, Deanna appeared in the doorway from the living room. "Jacob? What's going on?"

Cloud held the phone against his chest, hiding the frozen image from her view. "Nothing. Sorry."

Deanna raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? I thought we were going to be honest with each other."

Cloud grimaced, and then sighed. "Fine. I got this…message…from Tifa. But I don't think it's from her at all."

Deanna just stared.

"What I mean is, I don't think she really sent it. I think someone else sent it…from her phone."

Deanna blinked slowly. "Why would you think that?"

"Well…" Cloud sighed. "It's not like her to send something like this. She's always been a little…shy."

"I don't understand," Deanna said. "Can I see it?" She reached out her hand.

"No way," Cloud said immediately, pulling the phone out of her reach. "It's…explicit."

Deanna scoffed. "You do realize what I do for a living?" When he hesitated again, she continued. "Look, I'm a subject matter expert. I'll be able to tell if it's real or fake. Do you want my help or not?"

Hesitantly, he held out the phone, watching her face while she watched the message play. Her expression was impossible to read, but her face looked unusually pale.

She swallowed and handed back the phone. "Well. That was…"

"What did you see?" Cloud demanded.

"It's hard to tell," she said. "It's so blurry. But it seems…legit."

Cloud scowled and replayed the message, forcing himself to watch it again, looking for clues that she was under some kind of duress. She kept her eyes closed, and although there were no visible injuries to her face, she didn't look healthy. Her face was too thin. Her eye sockets were sunken, her skin wan.

"Something's wrong with her. And there's something weird about the video quality," Cloud said, frowning at the screen. "She's moving around, but it's black everywhere except her face."

He felt her hands rest on his shoulders, gently squeezing the muscles. "Jacob…I know it's hard to...see something like that…but I think she's sending a pretty clear message, don't you?"

Cloud snapped the phone shut and spun around to glare at her. "I thought you were the subject matter expert. You didn't see anything strange about that video?"

Deanna bit her lip and looked down.

Cloud got up to retrieve his work phone from his jacket. He found the number he wanted in the phone's address book and waited impatiently while it rang.

"Yello."

"Echo, it's Cloud. I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I need your help with something. Can you meet me at the CRC?"

"For you? Of course. I'll be there in fifteen."

Thankful that the teen didn't waste time asking stupid questions, Cloud snapped the phone shut and headed for the door.

"Jacob, wait. About Tifa…" Deanna said as his hand touched the knob. Cloud turned around to look at her. She seemed to be struggling to find the words she wanted to say.

"What is it?"

Deanna chewed on her lower lip. "Just…um…I hope she's ok."

Tifa had managed to swallow a good amount of the X-Potion. As long as she put on a good show and kept her eyes closed, he'd been letting her suck the liquid from his hairy knuckles as long as she needed. But he had been breathing heavily for a while and now was straight out moaning, and she guessed that she didn't have long before he would unlock the cage and demand that she fulfill her part of the deal. She kept her eyes glued shut.

Just keep healing me…just a little longer…so I can kick your ass.

A loud knock interrupted Ricky's moans. He growled with irritation and removed his hand from the cage.

"What?!" he demanded. The door creaked open. "This better be good," Ricky said. "You know better than to interrupt my playtime."

"I'm terribly sorry," the voice said from the door. Tifa dared to open her eyes a crack, to see Charles standing there with his hands clasped behind his back. "It's just, we have a bit of a problem with security."

"So talk to Mick," Ricky said, exasperated.

"Mick…wants to go home as well."

"What are you talking about?" Ricky huffed, finally getting to his feet.

"It seems that most of the staff have caught some kind of bug."

"Are you serious?" Ricky stomped towards the door. "God damn, what do I pay you people for? Gotta do everything myself anyway."

His grumbling faded away as the doors closed behind them. Tifa let out a sigh of relief. It was only a reprieve, but maybe it was enough.

She sat back against the bars, taking mental inventory of her body. The worst of her pain was gone. All that remained was the aching, no worse than the sore muscles after a good workout. That, and the mixed feelings of dread and anticipation in her stomach.

She could see the throne in squares. The lights in the velvet room were off, and the afternoon sunshine was fading fast, but the throne was gaudy and bright. She stared at it through the crisscrossed bars of her cage and fantasized about how she was going to make him pay.

Tifa was generally a very forgiving person. She had a way of seeing the good in everyone, no matter what bad things they might do. But Ricky…he was an exception. It didn't matter how badly he grew up, or what kind of trauma he might have been through. There was no excuse that would justify his behavior. Ricky was rotten to the core.

As the light from the window waned, the sickly green glow became brighter and more ominous. It reminded her that she still hadn't solved the problem of that damn necklace. She wondered if Jo had managed to get the cardboard. When would she even see Jo again? Certainly not before tonight, before Ricky followed through on his plans for Tifa.

And that was where the dread came in. Aerith told her she would need to bend, do what Ricky wanted in the name of survival. But for how long? And how far would she have to go?

Soon, the room was entirely dark except for the green glow. Ricky still had not returned. Her eyes were starting to get scratchy. Each blink was a little bit slower.

I'll just rest…for a moment…

By dinner time, no one could deny that Lexi had taken a turn for the worse.

"What did he do to you?" Denzel demanded, tipping her chin up to look at her eyes. They were drooping again, and most of the color she had recovered after Marlene's healing had faded.

"He didn't do anything," Lexi said wearily. "He checked me over, said I looked better than before, asked a bunch of questions about how I was healed, and then took some blood to run some tests."

"Are you sure that's all he did?" Denzel pressed. "Do you remember everything that happened down there?"

"You're acting paranoid," Lexi sighed, plopping down on an overstuffed armchair in the sitting room. "My brain is fine. I'm not forgetting things."

Marlene fussed with the edges of her hair. "Denzel's right, though. You look much sicker than you did at breakfast."

"Yeah, well, Denzel said I was already looking tired at breakfast," she said, slouching into the chair. "So I don't think we can blame that on Chuck."

Denzel turned back to Marlene. "Can you look inside her again? Something's not right."

"Not here," Marlene said. "Let's take her back to her room."

"But we were just about to go eat," Lexi said, frowning.

"We'll survive if we miss one meal," Marlene said.

Lexi sighed again, looking defeated. "Fine."

"You guys go ahead," Denzel said. "I'll grab some food and bring it up to the room. Lexi probably shouldn't be skipping meals." He didn't mention that he wasn't sure about his own ability to skip dinner.

"Ok," Marlene said. "We'll meet you there."

Denzel nodded and headed through the dining room doors. The aroma of fresh-baked bread and roasted ham filled his nostrils, and his stomach growled in protest. Marlene used to call him a bottomless pit, and he was starting to think she was right. He was always hungry lately.

He only had two hands, so he grabbed two plates and began piling them high with food. A couple of kids looked at him funny, but no one said anything. After all, this was Denzel. It wasn't a state secret that the boy could eat. When they were stacked as high as they could safely stand, he shoved a couple bottles of water into his pockets and picked up the plates. The mountains of food wobbled and bounced as he took off at a fast clip toward the door. Just as he reached the doorway, Ms. Joya appeared in his path, abruptly stopping him. The food teetered ominously in his hands.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her brows arched over flashing eyes. Damn, that woman could be intimidating. She clearly knew how to make her kids spill their guts, and here in Hubble House, they were all her kids.

Denzel swallowed. "Lexi…doesn't look well. Marlene's taking her back up to her room, and I was bringing her some food."

Ms. Joya looked down at the heaping plates. "That's all for Lexi?"

"Well…" Denzel said guiltily. "For all three of us."

The look on the woman's face was impossible to read. "Bring that into the kitchen, Denzel," she said, brushing past him.

Denzel sighed and followed her back into the kitchen. He set the plates on the counter. "I know I should've talked to you first, Ms. J. I'm just really worried about her."

Ms. Joya pressed her lips together as she looked at the food, and then patted his shoulder kindly. "Go help your sister take care of Lexi," she said. "I will put your meals into something a bit more portable and bring them up."

Denzel smiled, banishing every uncharitable thought he'd had toward the housemother. Overwhelmed with gratitude, he gave the portly woman an impulsive hug. "Thanks, Ms. J," he said, walking quickly out of the kitchen.

It didn't take long for him to catch up to the girls. They had stopped in one of the alcove window seats that lined the hall in the girls' wing.

"What are you guys doing?" Denzel asked.

Marlene looked worried. "Lexi started getting shaky and I tried to help her but I was afraid she would fall and so we just stopped here so she could rest."

"Ok. Stand up," Denzel said, holding out his hand. He pulled Lexi up to her feet, then immediately stooped down to put her arm over his shoulder.

"What – no!" Lexi said, pulling back her arm and fixing him with a glare. "You are not going to carry me like some…lame person!"

"I did it before," he said defensively.

"Yes, I know, but it feels very undignified," she said. "And I don't need it this time," she insisted. "I just needed a little rest."

Denzel and Marlene exchanged a look.

"I'm fine," Lexi insisted. "I can make it now."

"At least let us hold on to your arms in case you get wobbly," Marlene said.

"Fine," Lexi said, rolling her eyes. The other two each linked an arm with one of hers, and they proceeded the rest of the way to her room, marching in a line like troops in formation.

For all her protesting that she was fine, Lexi seemed relieved to plop down on her bed. A line of sweat beaded her pale brow. Denzel didn't even care if Marlene saw them this time. He sat next to her on the bed and put a steadying arm behind her back.

"Do your thing, Mar," he said urgently.

Marlene nodded and knelt on the floor in front of the bed. She took Lexi's shaking hands in her own and closed her eyes. A tense silence fell over the room.

Denzel looked over at Lexi, asking a question with his eyes. She gave him a tired smile. It was meant to be comforting, but it only worried him more.

He looked back at his sister. Her eyes were moving back and forth behind her eyelids. Her brow was furrowed. He waited and waited, and just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, Marlene opened her eyes. She released Lexi's hands and sat back on her heels.

"What is it?" he asked urgently.

"It's…the same," she said in frustration. "Her body is sick, but there's no injury. It's like…like it's her soul that's damaged. I can heal her body as many times as I want, but unless her soul can be healed, she's just going to keep getting sick."

"Well…how did her soul get damaged? How do we fix it?"

"I don't know!" Marlene huffed in frustration. "That's why I took so long. I looked and looked, but I just can't see it."

Denzel got to his feet. "Heal her body," he said.

"Denzel –"

"And then look again. Maybe you can see it better when her body's not sick."

Marlene nodded hesitantly. "And what are you doing?"

Denzel pressed his lips together. "I know another place to look for answers."

When Cloud arrived at the Computer Resource Center, Echo was already there, sitting in front of the panel of monitors.

"Hey," Cloud greeted him. "Thanks for coming. I know it's late, but–"

Echo waved his hand dismissively. "If it's for you, it must be important. So what do you need?"

"Can you find a cell phone?" Cloud asked.

"Uh…I can try," Echo said uncertainly. "Did you lose yours?"

"No. I need to find out where a message came from."

"Um, ok. We can check if the GPS is on," Echo shrugged.

Cloud handed him the phone. "Don't look at the message," he warned. "Just the contact info."

Echo took the phone and began typing on the black monitor. Cloud stood over him, watching closely. "Well, the GPS for this number isn't on, so that doesn't help," he said. "This really isn't my area of expertise. Maybe Jeff could help…"

"No," Cloud said. "I don't know him. I don't know if—" His work phone began ringing, interrupting his thoughts. Cloud scowled down at it. "I'll be right back."

He went out into the hall to take the call, leaving Echo to work his magic. The voice on the other end was a bit gravelly, like he had been coughing a lot recently.

"Is this Jacob Mack?"

"Yeah," Cloud said.

"This is Mick Powers," he said. "I'm Brother Nicky's head of security. We're looking for some guards to fill in for the estate patrol."

"Fill in?" Cloud asked. "For how long?"

"We're not sure yet. Just tomorrow afternoon for now. Maybe longer."

"You don't know?" Cloud asked shrewdly. "What's going on?"

Mick sighed audibly. "Seems like we all caught something. A bunch of the day crew ended up going home early."

"Don't you guys have regular backups?"

"Yeah," the guard said irritably. "We have several, but we don't have enough to replace the entire staff. We're pulling them in to cover the rest of the night shift and half of the day shift. We'll need you to come in tomorrow afternoon. I'll have to—oh sh—"

There was a lot of fumbling and rustling on the other end of the line, followed by a horrible retching sound. Cloud pulled the phone away from his ear, but the violent vomiting sounds were seriously disturbing. It was exactly what he had planned, but he couldn't help feeling a little guilty about their suffering.

Several minutes later, the rustling sound came again.

"Sorry about that," the guard said hoarsely, clearing his throat. "You still there?"

"Damn, that sounds pretty bad," Cloud said. "Is everyone in the house like that?"

"Pretty much," the guard said tersely. "Are we done with twenty questions now?

"Hm. I don't really want to catch that," Cloud replied. "How much am I getting paid for this?"

"Double the usual rate," the guard replied shortly.

"How much puke is there?" Cloud asked seriously.

"What?!"

"I mean, quantity-wise. Are we talking quarts or gallons?"

"Are you shitting me?" the guard demanded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," Cloud said reasonably, "If I'm going to be losing my lunch several times, I want to make sure the pay is enough to cover all the food I'm losing."

Mick was not amused by his levity. "Look, I have a lot of calls to make and I really want to go home, so if you're not interested—"

"Nah, I can do it," Cloud said. "When do you need me there?"

"Tomorrow morning. Be here at 8:00 sharp."

"Got it," Cloud said.

He hung up the phone and tapped it against his palm, staring at the wall. Almost there, Jo. Just one more day. Tomorrow, I'm bringing you home.

Denzel walked through the empty examination room and knocked on the glass of the closed office door.

"Come in," came the friendly reply.

Denzel turned the knob and poked his head into the office. Dr. Chiro was at his desk, busily scribbling notes with his right hand, holding a half-eaten ham sandwich in his left. Denzel was relieved that his hunch had proven right. It seemed that Chuck never left the basement, not even to eat. He wondered if Ms. Joya brought all his meals down to him, too.

He waited impatiently for Chuck to finish writing. He had learned the hard way that interrupting the scientist in the middle of his thoughts would provoke his ire in a way that it seemed nothing else could, and he was already on thin ice. When he finished, Chuck looked up, his expression instantly guarded.

"What is it, Denzel?"

"I…um…I wanted to apologize."

"For?" Chuck raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry for…not telling you what I was seeing."

"And why is that important?" Dr. Chiro pressed, clearly angling for a better apology.

"Because…you're the scientist…and you know what we're dealing with in the Jenova cells…and I should have given you the chance to analyze my visions."

Denzel held his breath and waited for Chuck's expression to change. Shiva's tits, is he going to make me grovel?

"Because…you're the only one who can interpret them," he said finally.

Dr. Chiro's stern gaze finally broke up. "I'll let it go this time. But if you ever act like that again, I will report you to the disciplinary council for insubordination."

"I understand," Denzel said, pressing back on the irritation that wanted to erupt into full-scale anger. "I was hoping you could hook me up to the machine again. I thought…maybe we could figure out how Lexi was getting healed."

Chuck set down his sandwich and brushed his hands together, showering the desk with crumbs. "You think there is more you can glean from those visions?"

"There has to be," Denzel said. "Why else would I be drawing that moogle so often? It's one of those that itches until I can get it on paper. That means it's important. I'm supposed to do something with it."

A light of curiosity glimmered in Chuck's eye. "Is that so? Well then I suppose we shouldn't waste any time," he said, standing and following Denzel back into the exam room.

Denzel sat down on the reclined dental seat, and Chuck sat down on his stool. He opened a notebook on the desk and began writing on one of the pages.

"Aren't you going to hook me up?" Denzel prodded.

"Not yet. We need to discuss what you saw last time."

Denzel sighed. He should've known Chuck wouldn't be so cooperative. For some reason he didn't understand, Denzel didn't want to tell Chuck the part where Cloud had healed her, but he had to tell him something. So he told him about the unknown woman who had eventually cleansed the moogle, and then about Marlene, the missing piece that had finally tied it all together.

"I realized that every time she helps these people, the moogle gets hurt worse."

"So her ability is not without cost," he said, sitting forward excitedly. "Do you think it's possible that all humans hosting Jenova cells are not actually using their abilities freely? Perhaps our bodies are not meant to hold such power."

"I don't know," Denzel said. "I mean, it affects mood for pretty much all the kids here. They all get angry when they use their abilities."

"Indeed," Dr. Chiro said, tapping his fingers together thoughtfully. "Although I think Lexi is different. I don't believe I've ever seen her angry, but the energy she siphons from others is always negative, is it not?"

Denzel nodded reluctantly. "She says that's when she feels the pull. But she's such a good person...I think that's the only kind she wants to take. She wants to help people."

"Hm. Yes, perhaps," Dr. Chiro said. "It shouldn't matter, though, if simply using the ability makes her cells deteriorate."

Denzel scowled.

"The question that still tugs at me," Chuck said, completely oblivious to his irritation, "is why she appears as a moogle. Why didn't you draw Lexi?"

"I don't know," Denzel said. "I think it's just how she's represented in my head."

"But the rest of your subjects all appear as themselves, do they not? In fact, though you've said that sometimes your visions are literal and sometimes abstract, it's only ever the environment as an abstract. All of your subjects are quite literal."

"Are you saying it's not Lexi?" Denzel asked, feeling the frustration jabbing at him again. What did this stupid doctor know about anything? They'd figured out ages ago that the moogle was Lexi. It made perfect sense with all of his drawings.

"Not the Lexi you see," Chuck said. "If it were just Lexi's body getting hurt, why wouldn't you see Lexi's body?"

"Well…" Denzel said haltingly. "Marlene says…it's actually…Lexi's soul that's being damaged."

Dr. Chiro leapt out of his chair and clapped his hands together. "Yes! Of course! Her soul! Her soul which has no physical representation, so your mind created one!" He looked at Denzel shrewdly. "Marlene is the girl who healed Lexi yesterday, isn't it? How does she come to have these powers? Why hasn't she been down to see me?"

Denzel ground his teeth together. "She doesn't have the Jenova gene. She's just here to help Lexi. She's not one of your lab rats."

"Alright, calm yourself," Chuck said dismissively. "I think we're ready to see if we can figure out how to save Lexi's soul. Shall I put the headset on, or would you like to lose control to your anger again?"

Denzel hated that Dr. Chiro was right. He could choose to let his anger occupy his thoughts, or he could put it aside and figure out how to help Lexi. He took his slow, deep breaths and compartmentalized the way he'd been taught.

"See? You're getting better at that, Denzel," the doctor said. He stood up and began securing Denzel's head and inserting the needle. As always, it was a strange sensation to feel the painless pressure against the side of his head, followed by the burst of energy and clarity. "I think I understand how your earlier visions worked now," he said. "Let's jump forward to the point where Lexi comes to Hubble House and uses the stimulation device for the first time."

Denzel started fast-forwarding through the scenes. "How am I supposed to know when—" He sucked in a sharp breath. Instead of a moogle and a small model of a person on a black background, suddenly, everything was in vivid color and detail. He could see every aspect of the room Lexi was inhabiting, as well as Lexi herself. The moogle simply fluttered next to her head, tethered to Lexi by a translucent tube into her spine.

"I can see…everything!" Denzel breathed. "I can see the room, this room, and I see you and all your equipment and I see Lexi in this chair with the needle in her head! It's like someone finally turned the lights on!"

"Mhm." Dr. Chiro wrote something on his paper.

"She's sitting right where I'm sitting now, hooked up to this machine." He watched carefully, certain that Chuck would do something to her, but it was actually quite dull. "You're asking her questions about her ability," Denzel said. "And now you're having her…"

"Yes?" Dr. Chiro prompted.

"You're having her seek out the pain," Denzel said, not quite believing what he was seeing. "They're not even in the room, and she's taking their pain. I didn't even know she could do that!"

"Yes, well I'm not certain if she can do it without being hooked up to the machine," Dr. Chiro said, sounding annoyed. "Alicia is taking her time letting Lexi in on the big secret, so I have to use the pentothal and start over with her every time. It's an enormous hindrance to my work."

Denzel really couldn't care less about the doctor's problem, but he kept his thoughts to himself and continued watching the scene behind his eyelids. The moogle was visibly taking damage now, and Denzel suppressed another surge of anger against the doctor.

Soon enough, Lexi was disconnected from the machine, and the image dissolved. She reappeared with Denzel in her arms. He was sitting in the hallway of Hubble House, staring after something that appeared to have upset him. She was holding tightly onto his shoulders, singing in his ear and rocking them gently from side to side.

Watching her heal past Denzel was like watching a balloon deflate. Gradually, the tension released from his muscles. His body relaxed until she had to physically hold him up. He could actually see his pain now, a dark liquid flowing from him to her.

Present Denzel looked up at the moogle floating serenely above their heads. The dark liquid appeared to be absorbed into its plush body, appearing like an inkblot on its coat.

"Wait, why is she getting dark so much faster?" he asked. "Is it because it's me?" Is it because I'm special to her? He felt terrible about hurting her, but that little voice in his head couldn't help but feel hopeful.

"I suspect it's because she's here," the doctor mused. "She's had the electrical stimulation by this time. Her abilities are increasing. Perhaps she's taking more than the emotions you're currently experiencing. Maybe anger or hurt you've held on to in the back of your mind is extracted, too."

"I—I don't know," Denzel said. It seemed unlikely that she could take his anger without him realizing it. But then he remembered Alicia. He had held on to that anger for a long time, but not anymore. He thought he had chosen to forgive her, but had he, really? Or did Lexi just take it from him? Should he still be rightfully angry?

When the sound of the scribbling pen stopped, Chuck asked, "What happens with the next person she helps?"

Reluctantly, Denzel moved on from the scene of her rocking him in the hallway. "It's…Alicia. They're in their dorm room here at Hubble House. Lexi is sitting on the floor next to her. She's singing to Alicia and pulling the black out now. It's…" Denzel made a face.

"What is it?" Dr. Chiro prompted. "You have to tell me what you're seeing, Denzel."

"No, it's just…she's still pulling it out. Why does Alicia have so much black?"

"Who knows?" Dr. Chiro asked. "People have all kinds of trauma in their pasts. But you should know, shouldn't you? I thought you two were close."

"Not exactly," Denzel said, feeling defensive. "I mean…I suspected something, but…I didn't know…"

Suddenly, a sense of guilt overtook him. He's been so hard on her. Sure, she'd made some bad decisions. She'd hurt him. But maybe he should've been questioning why she acted the way she did instead of judging her for it. Why did this shy girl suddenly want to take things so fast? How did she know the things she did? Had he seen the signs? Did he ignore all the red flags? Was she silently begging for him to save her all that time?

In the middle of his self-examination, he was distracted by the darkness.

"The moogle! It's so much darker now. She's definitely picking it up faster now. No wonder she's been getting so sick."

"Ah," Chuck said. "Let's go to the next session she has with me. I'd like to see if anything changes."

"Ok," he said. He would have to pick that apart later. Focus on Lexi now. "She's in the chair again. You're turning up the voltage and…and you're hurting her!" His eyes opened to glare at Chuck. "I knew I couldn't trust you alone with her! Now I have proof."

Dr. Chiro didn't look concerned. "You have a picture in your head. That's not proof in any court of law," he said dryly. "Besides, I had to find her threshold. Watch what happens next, Denzel. This is important."

Against his will, the vision moved forward. It seemed that his subconscious blindly followed Dr. Chiro's suggestions. Why did he ever think he was in control?

"The…what…I…I don't understand…" While he was busy being irritated with Chuck, the moogle had suddenly become white as snow – even whiter than it had been in his earliest visions. Denzel closed his eyes and walked back the vision.

"What are you seeing?" Dr. Chiro pressed. "Walk me through it and we'll figure it out."

"She's…she's struggling in the chair, like she's trying to get away. Then her back arches up and this big blast comes out of her. And it's not going away. It's like a red fog all around her." His brow furrowed. "…She's fine now. But you're not. You and that ponytail guy are on the floor. She…she used the dark side of her ability. She sent out the bad feelings, and her soul was cleaned."

"Mhm." Dr. Chiro sounded smug.

Denzel's eyes flew open. The room in his mind's eye, the same room he was in now, overlaid the existing exam room. "Did you know this would happen?"

"Not exactly," the doctor said.

"But you knew I would be able to see everything after she got to Hubble House," Denzel pressed.

"I had a hypothesis," he said vaguely.

"We could've started here! We could have had our answer weeks ago! You've been letting Lexi suffer all that time just so you could learn how our abilities worked?!"

"Yes," Dr. Chiro said simply. "In science, you cannot simply skip steps to get to the answer. The process is just as important as the result."

The bright imagery in front of his eyes began to fuzz and vibrate.

"Settle down, Denzel," the doctor said coolly. "You're interrupting the signal again."

Denzel felt the rage building inside of him. It was just like he'd told the disciplinary panel. Chuck didn't care about them as people. He didn't care about their health. He just wanted to study them like rats!

The overlapping picture refused to disappear with the electrical current running through his brain, but it wavered like a bad TV signal, with jagged sharp lines from top to bottom. In his actual vision, all he could see was Dr. Chiro, and all that rage was focused there.

"Now, Denzel, it's alright if we don't have the same goals, as long as we work together. Your goal was to figure out how to heal Lexi, isn't it? You have your answer now."

"You…you prick!" Denzel's body tried to get off the chair, but his head was held firmly in place, and all he could do was struggle. "Lexi is hurting! She might be dying! And all you care about is your stupid scientific process? Let me out of this stupid thing so I can go help her!"

Chuck stood calmly in front of him. "I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"You don't want her to get better," Denzel accused. "You want to her to stay sick so you can keep studying her!" His hands were fumbling above his head, but the controls were somewhere out of reach.

"Not at all," the doctor said, and his calm superiority only made Denzel angrier. "I think you should make Lexi feel better as soon as possible. But you're clearly in an uncontrolled rage, and you do have a history of violence. It would be irresponsible of me to release you before you're calm."

Denzel stopped struggling. Although he knew that Chuck was at least partially holding him here to flex his power over him, any reasonable person wouldn't fault the doctor for not wanting to free an angry lion.

"Breathe. Focus. Gather up all that energy and tuck it into a box, just big enough to hold it. You don't have to get over it right now; you just have to set it aside. Think about what's important to you. That little box can wait until you have time to deal with it."

Denzel felt his racing heart begin to slow.

Thanks, head-Cloud. I know what's important.

Lexi is important.