The Broken Silence

by MangoKat

A massive misunderstanding causes several operatives to defect from V.I.L.E. Carmen must now protect them before they're hunted down and killed. As Team Red fight against V.I.L.E, they begin uncovering a disturbing web of mysteries involving kidnap and murder. Everything always seems to point back to a certain mime. Who is Mime Bomb, and why does everyone seem to want him dead?

28. Yuri

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The Broken Silence

Chapter 28

Yuri

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The car stopped beside them, and when Zack looked up, he saw a pretty woman with blond hair staring at them with wide and frantic eyes.

"Yuri!" she called out desperately, "Yuri Volkov!"

Slowly Mime Bomb turned to face her.

"Yuri?" Zack repeated in surprise, "Your real name is Yuri?"

Mime Bomb made no move to confirm or deny it, simply staring at his sister.

[[It is you, isn't it?]] Alys asked in Welsh, holding up the missing poster. "Yuri."

Mime Bomb stared at her with an alarmed gaze, suddenly feeling trapped. Alys now knew who he was…

He began to shake, on the verge of another panic attack. Alys knew the brother she'd been searching for was a freak, and she was going to reject him. She already thought he was a creep and a pervert, and the fact he was dressed as a mime didn't help this any. Mime Bomb then raised a hand to his face realizing all of his makeup had washed off. Alys was staring straight at him, and Mime Bomb felt completely exposed. Without even realizing it, he stepped behind Zack, clutching tightly to his jersey.

Zack glanced between Alys and Mime Bomb and then frowned. "Alys?" Zack guessed.

Alys only had eyes for Mime Bomb, and it hurt when she saw he was clearly afraid of her as he hid behind the other boy.

"Yuri…" she said again, her tone softening. [[Why didn't you tell me who you were?]]

Mime Bomb wasn't even looking at her, his forehead resting against Zack's back as he squeezed his eyes closed.

Zack glanced over his shoulder at Mime Bomb, not understanding his reaction. "Hey, buddy, it's okay, you don't have to be so nervous. Let's go talk to her."

Mime Bomb shook his head, and Alys felt like a knife had pierced her heart.

"Yuri, please!" she begged, switching to English. "I'm sorry I hit you, I didn't know who you were! I'm so sorry!"

Zack stared at her in surprise, his gaze going to the bruises on Mime Bomb's face. "You're the one who beat him up?!" he asked, feeling dumbfounded, "Why?"

Alys gave him an ashamed look. "...I thought he was stalking me for some sort of prank. He kept showing up everywhere I went dressed as a clown, and I lost my temper…"

Zack glanced over his shoulder at Mime Bomb again. "Come on, let's listen to what she has to say," he said, "It was a misunderstanding. You don't have to be afraid."

"Please just talk to me!" Alys begged, "You are Yuri, aren't you? You're my brother?"

Mime Bomb shook his head no, still not looking up. Alys gave him a devastated look, and Zack was completely confused.

"I don't know why he's lying," Zack told Alys, "He's your brother and we came all the way from the United States to meet you. He's being a little bit shy though…"

"Please, Yuri," Alys begged, "Please just look at me."

Mime Bomb started to back away, but Zack was quick to grab a hold of him. "Oh, no you don't!" he scolded, "We came all this way, and I don't understand why you're acting like this! Go see your sister!"

Mime Bomb seemed to shrink in on himself, and Zack noticed the tears trickling down the other boy's cheeks. Frowning, he turned to Alys.

"Just give us a minute. I need to find out what's going on."

Zack ushered Mime Bomb out of hearing range, and then gave him a look of concern. "What's wrong? You need to tell me, otherwise I can't help you."

Mime Bomb had no idea how to explain this so Zack would understand and so he shook his head, covering his face with his hands.

"What happened?" Zack demanded, "Don't you want to meet your sister?"

Mime Bomb shook his head no, and Zack was truly stunned.

"What? Seriously?" he asked, "Why not?"

Mime Bomb simply stood there still covering his face.

"Do you have any idea how much you're going to hurt Alys if you do this?" Zack said.

Mime Bomb shook his head.

"No." Zack disagreed. "You will hurt her, and frankly this is an incredibly selfish thing to do. She's been looking for you for fifteen years and now you're going to reject her? This is going to be devastating for her."

Mime Bomb peeked through his fingers at Zack, who was frowning angrily at him. Mime Bomb gave another shake to his head, and then pointed to his shirt, then his hat and then finally his face. Zack remembered this pantomime from earlier and frowned.

"You're still worried she's going to reject you?" he guessed.

Mime Bomb stomped a foot in frustration and pointed over at Alys and then mimed punching himself in the face.

"She's already rejected you?" Zack asked, not sure he'd understood all that.

Mime Bomb nodded, and then again covered his face with his hands, trying to pull away. Zack had no idea what had happened earlier, but knew there was no way Mime Bomb was right, and he reached out and grabbed Mime Bomb before he could flee.

Zack took one of Mime Bomb's hands, and shoved the umbrella into it. "Don't move from this spot, or I swear I'm gonna smack you upside the head." he ordered, not meaning it at all. "I'm going to speak with Alys about this, and find out what's going on."

Mime Bomb frantically shook his head, but Zack couldn't be swayed. "No, Mime Bomb, we're dealing with this right now whether you want to or not. Stay here."

Zack approached the car, and Alys was clearly getting more and more distressed.

"He doesn't want to meet me," she guessed as soon as Zack neared, "He's frightened of me, isn't he?"

"He thinks you've rejected him." Zack said bluntly.

Alys' eyes widened. "What? But we haven't even spoken yet!"

"Look, I'm going to be honest here. He has a lot of issues that aren't even close to being resolved. He's not going to be able to handle it if you reject him just because he's not perfect. Tell me now if you're going to reject him, so I can try to do damage control before this totally destroys him."

Alys was aghast. "I'm not going to reject him no matter what!" she said, feeling insulted, "He's my brother!"

"He's my brother too and I'm going to protect him the best I can."

Alys stared at Zack in confusion. "I'm sorry, he's your what?"

"Well, I'm his adopted brother," Zack amended.

Alys gave Zack a slow but confused nod. "What sort of issues does he have?" she asked.

"Well, he's completely mute," Zack told her. "He speaks through sign language."

"What happened?" Alys asked in concern. "Why can't he speak?"

Zack gave her a shrug. "I don't know, and he doesn't like talking about it. He's been seeing a therapist about it, but it seems to be a sore subject for him."

"I'll learn sign language!" Alys vowed, "I don't care if he doesn't speak; he's my brother!"

"You saw him in his mime makeup?" Zack questioned.

Alys nodded.

"Well, that wasn't a one-time thing. He dresses as a mime 24/7."

Alys glanced over at Mime Bomb in surprise. "What? Why?"

Zack looked a bit troubled. "I don't really know for sure, but I think he uses the makeup as a way to hide himself. He's been working on this issue as well, and he has been improving, but being without his makeup makes him extremely uncomfortable."

Alys didn't understand and she glanced over at Mime Bomb, who was staring down at the ground, carefully avoiding all eye contact. She felt a pang of sadness at the uncertainty she saw, knowing he must have been put through something terrible to end up like this.

"Is this why he doesn't want to come over?" she asked, "Because I can see his face?"

"That probably isn't helping matters, but I think he's mostly worried you're going to reject him because of the whole mime thing."

"When we were children he spent a whole month dressed as a tiger, and the next month dressed as a knight, and the month after that a princess. Why in hell would he think I would care about this? He's always loved dressing up, the same as our mother did. He's always been just like her."

"He has never told me his name," Zack said a bit sadly, "He goes by the alias Mime Bomb. He's refused to talk about his past at all, and gets extremely upset if you try to press him on it. Until you said it, I had no idea his name was Yuri."

"So you have no idea where he's been this whole time?"

Zack silently shook his head. "We did some research on him and discovered he attended a private school under a fake name, but before that we haven't been able to find anything."

Alys stared at Mime Bomb sadly. "Why hadn't he looked for me sooner?" she asked, "He's been gone for fifteen years!"

Zack wiped the rain out of his face, and hesitated.

"What?" Alys demanded, "What is it?"

"He...um...he blames himself for the car accident that killed your mother…"

"What?!" Alys shrieked, causing Mime Bomb to glance over at them.

"He thought that you hated him all this time, and he's still worried you're going to reject him. I've told him he's not responsible, but I'm not sure he really believes it. I need you to swear you're not going to reject him no matter what. He's a mime, he doesn't speak, he has PTSD, and he may or may not be gay. Promise me you're not going to hurt him. Promise me."

"I promise," Alys said as she wiped a few tears out of her eyes. "Bring him to me. Please…"

Zack gave her a nod, and turned to look over at Mime Bomb. "Mime Bomb, please come here!" he called over.

Mime Bomb shifted a bit nervously, but didn't move.

"Mime Bomb, she wants to see you, come over!" Zack ordered, wiping more of the rain out of his face.

Mime Bomb glanced around, and then backed up a step.

"Yuri!" Alys called out desperately, "Please!"

Mime Bomb stared at the distress on his sister's face, and then hung his head, and very slowly began approaching the car. Alys reached out a hand towards him, and while keeping his eyes firmly on the ground, he took her hand in his. He definitely wasn't expecting to suddenly be yanked forward, and he found himself pulled halfway through the window of the car into a bone-crushing hug, the umbrella falling into the mud forgotten. He squirmed a bit, and she only tightened her grip on him, and slowly Mime Bomb began relaxing into the hug.

"Yuri," Alys said, her tone agonized, "I've been looking for you everywhere! Years and years I've been looking but I never once gave up. I've missed you so much! Now give your sister a cwtch ."

When she finally relaxed her hold on him a bit, she leaned back so she could get a better look at him. She reached up and gently ran her fingers across the bruises on his face, and gave him an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry, annwyl ," she whispered, "Forgive me. I shouldn't have assumed the worst about you."

She stared into his face and she knew for certain this was her brother. He was certainly older, but he still looked pretty much the same, right down to the freckles, and she smiled at him, wiping the tears from his eyes. Her sweet and sensitive little brother was alive and that's all that mattered to her.

"Forgive me," she whispered again, pulling him back into the hug, "You're home, you're finally home."

Mime Bomb closed his eyes. Home… Slowly, and somewhat cautiously, he reached out his arms and returned the hug, not realizing how much he had missed her until that moment. Alys could feel how he was shivering from the cold, and she pulled back, brushing his wet hair out of his face with her fingers.

"Come on you two. Get in out of the rain, and I'll take you back to the cottage so we can get warm and talk."

Mime Bomb reluctantly released her, and Zack gave him a hard clap on the back. "Come on, buddy," he invited, opening the back door of the car. "Let's go get warm."

Mime Bomb gave a nod and crawled into the car, feeling such a deep sense of happiness, that for the first time in years, he forgot everything bad for just a short time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Neal stared at Shadowsan as the other man left the basement, and then sat there on the floor shivering and still soaking wet. He remained there for a few minutes, and then decided he honestly didn't care what Team Red said, and he wasn't just going to sit by and do nothing. Gripping the support beam beside him, Neal pulled himself to his feet, knowing that there was one thing Shadowsan hadn't anticipated. He stepped down on his injured foot, and ignored the agony that shot up and down his leg. Neal had an extremely high pain tolerance, and was used to the pain of a dislocated limb.

Walking across the basement, he began up the stairs, wincing but not stopping. Player, who was watching the security cameras, stared in complete surprise as the villain walked on his leg like he wasn't even injured. The pain should have been excruciating, and he couldn't believe it when Neal began going up the stairs.

Team Red had all left with the assumption Neal couldn't walk, and Player realized he was going to have to put the entire base into lockdown. Typing on his computer as fast as he could, Player initiated lockdown and an alarm began to sound within the base and all doors and windows began to lock themselves automatically. Neal was almost to the top of the stairs, saw what was happening, and stuck his arm out to stop the basement door from closing. Not expecting it to close with the force it did, he let out a yelp of surprise.

"Ow, ow, shite!" Neal complained, yanking uselessly at his jammed arm.

Player unmuted himself and then tried to deepen his voice. "Return to the basement at once!" he ordered, "You are a prisoner, and there will be consequences if you don't obey!"

Neal glanced around in confusion and then his gaze settled on the nearby speaker.

"Who're you?" Neal asked, curiously, "How old are you? You sound like a kid! I didn't know Team Red had a little girl working with them."

"I'm not a girl!" Player cried out in outrage, forgetting he was trying to deepen his voice. "I'm a boy!"

Neal gave another tug to his arm. "Whatever you say, love."

Player frowned at his computer screens, and crossed his arms. "You have to go back to the basement, now!" he ordered.

"Can't," Neal responded.

"And why is that?" Player demanded, "Shadowsan is just in the other room, and he's going to be here any moment."

Neal stared at the camera and tipped his chin in the direction of his arm. "My arm is stuck," he replied.

"Pull on it," Player responded with a frown.

"The door is closed too tightly," Neal said with a shrug, "This is actually incredibly painful and I think it's breaking my arm."

Player frowned skeptically and then adjusted a couple cameras so he could see better and sure enough, he could see the villain's arm was jammed into the door.

"Why did you stick your arm in the way?" Player asked incredulously, "That could have cut off your arm for all you knew!"

"Didn't really think this through," Neal admitted, "Can you open the door? This kinda hurts...a lot."

"I'm not opening the door," Player said, trying to figure out what to do.

Muting himself for a moment, he tried to contact Carmen but all he got was static. Tracing all the Team Red coms, he saw they were all offline except for Zack and Mime Bomb who were in Wales. Realizing the old warehouse they were in must be blocking the signal, he frowned knowing he was on his own until they returned.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Neal complained.

Player had no idea how long everyone was going to be gone for and knew he couldn't just leave Neal with his arm jammed in a door. He unmuted himself and then let out a deep sigh of exasperation.

"Fine, I will open the door for just a moment so you can get your arm out, but then you have to go back into the basement. It will unlock for only three seconds which will give you enough time to get your arm out."

"'Kay," Neal agreed.

Player typed for a moment and then disabled the lock on the basement door only. "Alright get ready," Player instructed him, "Three seconds starting...now!"

To Player's surprise, Neal threw his shoulder to the door and slipped through into the living room just fast enough to get in before the door once again slammed closed.

"Hey!" Player cried out in outrage.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Neal said dismissively, glancing around the living room. "I lied."

"I told you I'm not a girl!" Player said, still outraged, "Go back to the basement!"

"Not gonna happen," Neal responded, wondering why Team Red hadn't swarmed him yet. Had they actually left him by himself?!

He could see the windows were shuttered with some sort of metal sheet, and he assumed it was some part of the lockdown. He limped his way across the room and then began searching for a way out. Every door he came across couldn't be opened, and he knew picking the locks wouldn't help in this circumstance. His leg was killing him, but he continued limping through the warehouse, knowing he had to check every possible exit.

"I really don't think you should be walking on that foot," Player said, a bit of concern creeping into his voice, "I looked it up, and you should be keeping that leg elevated for at least a week with no walking."

"Interesting," Neal answered dismissively, finding himself in the kitchen.

Neal's shoulders sagged in defeat, now knowing there was nowhere for him to go. He was still trapped. Leaning heavily against the counter, he took a glass from the cupboard and then turned on the tap so he could get some water. As he sipped at the water, he stared around himself, having no idea what to do. He was freezing cold and his soaked clothes were sticking to him uncomfortably. He didn't have spare clothes to get changed into, and he had no idea when Team Red would be returning. Deciding to just make himself at home while he waited, he began removing his wet shirt as he kicked off his boots.

"Uh...Neal, what are you doing?" Player asked as the villain dropped the wet shirt to the floor.

"My clothes are wet and I'm cold," Neal responded with a shrug as he began unbuckling his pants.

Player stared at the screen in horror. "What are you doing?!" he cried out, his voice rising an octave, "Stop that!"

Neal dropped the pants to the floor with a splat. "I thought you said you weren't a girl?"

"I'm not!" Player snapped angrily, "But that doesn't mean I want to see you naked!"

"Then stop looking," Neal answered with a shrug, dropping his boxers to the pile of wet clothes.

"Oh, geez." Player complained, covering part of the screen with his hand. "Please stop."

"No one's making you look," Neal said, peeling off his wet socks and tossing them aside.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight!" Player yelled, his face burning in embarrassment, "You're our prisoner!"

Neal gave him a shrug and then stepped over to the fridge and opened it. Staring into the freezer section, he pulled out a box and held it up towards the camera.

"I'm taking these pizza pops," Neal informed him.

"Hey, you can't just steal our things!" Player protested, "Go back to the basement where you're supposed to be! I've already contacted the team and they'll be here any second!"

Neal stared at the box and then a look of disgust crossed his face. "Ugh, nevermind, there's vegetables in these. Who buys vegetarian pizza pops?! That's just obscene."

"Obscene? Obscene ?!" Player screeched, "You're walking around our base naked!"

Neal tossed the pizza pops back in the freezer and then turned his attention to the fridge. Picking up a styrofoam container he opened it and then nodded in approval.

"Leftover Chinese, nice."

He gave it a sniff to make sure it wasn't old and then opened a nearby drawer to look for a fork. Player couldn't believe this, and felt frustrated that the villain was just making himself at home like this. As Neal leaned against the counter and began eating, Player let out another huff of frustration.

"They're going to be mad about this!" he warned the villain, "I'm going to tell them everything you do! Go back to the basement now, and no one has to know about this."

Neal took a bite of an eggroll, and didn't look worried.

"Hey!" Player protested, "Are you ignoring me?!"

Neal took another bite. "Yep."

Player let out a sigh of resignation, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do about this situation. "Can you at least put your pants back on?"

"Nope."

Player sighed again. "Fine, then I'm putting a sticky note on my screen so I don't have to see anything I don't want to."

"A sticky note is a bit small, love, better use a piece of loose leaf instead."

Player rolled his eyes and stuck a sticky note on the computer screen. "I don't get paid enough for this." he grumbled to himself.

There hadn't been much Chinese left and so Neal found he was still hungry when it was gone. Putting the empty container back in the fridge, he then began opening cupboards, looking for something interesting. A box of triple butter popcorn caught his eye, and he grabbed a package and began removing the plastic.

"If you were this hungry, they would have fed you when they got back," Player pointed out.

Neal tossed the package into the microwave and then pressed the popcorn button. "I don't suppose you know how Dash is doing?" he asked.

Player's tone softened. "No, I'm sorry I don't."

"Did they at least take him to a real hospital?"

"They were meeting with some Dr. Vess guy," Player answered.

Neal instantly felt completely relieved, knowing Dr. Vess was better than any doctor a local hospital would have. Dash was in good hands, and Neal knew he didn't have to worry.

The microwave beeped and Neal opened it and pulled out the bag of popcorn, wincing as he burned his fingers. Dropping it onto the counter, he then began searching for a bowl.

"Bottom cupboard to your right," Player told him in resignation.

"Thanks, Tiny Tim," Neal answered, finding a large plastic bowl.

"My name's not Tim," Player said with a frown.

Neal didn't answer, and emptied the popcorn into the bowl. Without another word, he picked up the bowl, grabbed a Pepsi out of the fridge, and then began limping his way out of the kitchen.

"Neal, I really don't think you should be walking on that foot."

"Probably not," Neal agreed, making his way towards the living room.

His entire leg was throbbing in pain, and he knew he'd overdone it. Once in the living room, he plopped himself down on the couch and glanced down at his foot. There was black bruising that spread around his entire ankle and part of the way up his leg. His leg and ankle were swollen, and Neal was glad to be off it.

"Does this place have cable?" Neal asked, reaching for the tv remote.

"The internet has been blocked," Player informed him. "You won't be able to contact the outside world, but yes there is cable."

Neal turned on the tv and then leaned back, placing the bowl of popcorn on his lap. The television was absolutely enormous, and he smirked, knowing Team Red weren't above using some of the stolen money on luxuries. Flipping through stations until he found sports, he left the channel on rugby, and then gave a stretch.

"Hey, Tiny, who's your favourite Team?" he asked.

"I'm not really a sport's person," Player responded, trying for the tenth time to reach Team Red.

Tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth, Neal stared intently at the screen as he realized New Zealand was playing. "You should watch it," he suggested, "Rugby's the best sport."

"I never understood how it's fun to watch sports," Player commented, "I can sorta understand why it's fun to play sports, but not just watching someone else do it."

Neal gave him a shrug. "I could never play it because of my condition, my joints dislocate too easily. I've always just watched."

"Do you have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome?" Player questioned, "I've been wondering about this for a while now."

Neal paused, handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth. "Well, now this is unexpected!" he said with a laugh, "I think you're the first person I haven't had to explain EDS to. How old are you, Tiny? You sound like you're just a squirt."

"My age doesn't matter," Player responded evasively, "Ability matters more."

"So, you're like Team Red's tech guy?"

There was no answer.

"Hello?" Neal questioned.

Silence.

"Tiny Tim?"

Player stared wide-eyed at his screens, realizing he'd just given himself away in a really stupid way. Neal now knew Team Red had a tech guy, and he knew he was only a kid. He would make an easy target, and Player grimaced, knowing he now had to beef up his home security.

"Did I say something wrong?" Neal asked in amusement.

Player muted his microphone, and once again tried to get a hold of Team Red. What was taking them so long?! Neal seemed content to watch tv, and Player kept an eye on him, but didn't say anything to him. Once the game ended, another started and Neal watched in silence, barely moving other than occasionally eating a piece of popcorn.

"Player, the operation was a success, and Dash is going to be fine," Carmen's voice came across Player's com.

Player had never been more relieved. "That's great to hear, but you guys need to get back to base right now."

"What, why?" Carmen demanded in concern, "What happened?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of you guys for two hours now, but something was blocking all signals to your coms. The base is in lockdown."

"Did Neal escape?" Carmen asked in alarm, "What did he do? Did he compromise the base?!"

"No, he hasn't escaped, but he tried to. I had no choice but to put the base in lockdown."

"What's wrong?" Carmen demanded, hearing the uncertainty in his voice.

"Um...you...you just need to see for yourself," Player responded awkwardly. "Hurry."

Carmen exchanged a look with her team who had all heard Player's odd message. Without a word, they ran for the van, having no idea what they were going to find once they got back to base. Ivy drove much faster than was safe, and only twenty minutes later, they jumped out of the van as soon as they pulled into their driveway. They ran to the warehouse and saw the security measures were still in place, and all the windows were shuttered and locked tight.

"We're here, Player. Unlock the front door."

"Unlocking it now, Red," Player responded.

The moment she heard the click of the door unlocking, Carmen burst into the base with the rest of the team close at her heels.

"He's in the living room," Player informed them.

Carmen nodded, and then ran through the warehouse, preparing for a fight. She burst into the living room, fists raised, and she immediately froze at the sight that met her. Neal was seated on the couch stark naked, a bowl of popcorn the only thing giving him a bit of modesty, and he glanced over at her, expression unconcerned.

The rest of the team burst in behind her, and they froze as well, their faces an immediate mixture of horror and disgust. Chase looked completely puzzled at the sight of the naked villain, while Shadowsan looked furious, and Le Chèvre looked disgusted. Julia raised a hand to her mouth in surprise, while Ivy stared wide-eyed with her mouth agape, and Tigress seemed like she was about to be sick. El Topo simply pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, and shook his head.

"Kia Ora," Neal greeted, still not looking bothered in the least.

"How did you get out of the basement?" Carmen demanded once she'd found her voice.

"That's the question you're starting with?!" Tigress cried out, "How about we start with, why the hell are you naked?!"

Neal glanced down at himself and then gave a shrug, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Was cold and wet," he answered.

"Player, did he compromise the base in any way?"

"No, Red, he just helped himself to food from the kitchen and then stayed on the couch the whole time."

"How did you get up here?" Carmen asked in surprise. "What about your foot?"

Shadowsan glanced down at the badly bruised and swollen leg. "You walked on it," he stated, surprised the villain could stand the pain this would have caused.

"Kinda regret that now," Neal admitted, "I can't feel my leg anymore."

"Fool." Shadowsan muttered, approaching Neal.

Grabbing a throw from the back of a chair, he threw it at Neal who caught it with a frown.

"The game is almost over, can't you just let me see who wins?" Neal requested, "They're head to head right now."

Shadowsan's response was to snatch the remote and then begin pressing buttons until he figured out how to turn it off. Neal heaved a sigh and wrapped the throw around his shoulders, as Shadowsan knelt down so he could take a closer look at the leg.

"Fool." Shadowsan repeated, seeing Neal had made things much worse for himself. "You've made yourself lame. You're not going to be able to walk on this until the damage has been healed."

"How's Dash?" Neal demanded, "Did Dr. Creepy patch him up okay?"

"Dash is going to be fine," Carmen assured him, "And I owe you a huge apology."

Neal gave her the side-eye as she approached, and she took a seat on the couch beside him.

"I'm so sorry I didn't believe you," she began, "I was blinded by my own stubbornness and I didn't see what was right in front of me. I was so stuck on getting Gray to listen to me that I almost allowed Dash to die, and I've never been more ashamed in my life. We may be on opposite sides, but neither of you deserved to be put through that. You tried to tell me and I wouldn't listen. I'm sorry."

"You nearly let Dash die." Neal stated, his expression losing all friendliness in an instant.

Carmen was taken aback by the abrupt change in expression, and she was immediately reminded that Neal was indeed a villain, no matter how friendly he normally seemed.

"I know, and I'm so sorry!" she told him. "I messed up, and it nearly cost someone their life. I feel absolutely horrible for not listening to you, and I regret it. It shouldn't matter whether we're enemies or not when it comes to a life, and I'm asking you to forgive me. I'm sorry, Neal."

Neal stared at her for a long moment, and then his expression softened. "You saved my life once, Black Sheep. This and the fact Dash is going to be okay, are the only reasons I will forgive you for this," he responded with a shrug. "I can't promise the same for Dash. He's a complete priss and will probably be complaining about this for the next five years."

"I saved your life?" Carmen asked in confusion, "When was this?"

Neal stared at her in surprise, and then he laughed. "You don't even remember!"

Carmen frowned. "When did I save your life?" she asked. "We've only met a few times..."

Neal shook his head. "Nevermind, love... I suppose it doesn't matter now, it was a long time ago."

Carmen was incredibly confused, and she stared at the villain, trying to remember all of their interactions over the years.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me go, are ya love?" Neal asked, looking a bit resigned.

"Not on your life." Chase responded, crossing his arms. "You are a criminal."

Neal raised a brow. "So are you."

Chase sputtered indignantly, but quickly realized Neal was right. He scowled and said nothing more.

"You're going back to the basement." Shadowsan informed him. "Give us any trouble and you will regret it."

The older man's expression was still furious, and Neal didn't doubt his words in the least.

Neal let out a sigh, and set the popcorn aside. "Yeah, that's what I thought…"

"Cover yourself." Shadowsan ordered impatiently. "There are girls in the room."

Neal rolled his eyes and wrapped the throw around himself, and Tigress let out a breath of relief.

Once he was certain Neal was properly covered, Shadowsan lifted the thin man into his arms, knowing there was no way Neal could walk on that injured leg. As he was carried back towards the basement, Neal glanced over at Carmen.

"Nice base by the way, very homey."

"I'll be down in a few minutes to talk to you," Carmen promised him. "I'll bring you clothes."

The moment Neal was gone from the room, Tigress stared at the couch with her lip curled in absolute disgust. She was staring at the couch like it was diseased, and she pointed a finger towards it. "We have to burn that now," she informed the others.

"I agree," Le Chèvre commented.

"Guys, we're not burning the couch," Carmen stated.

"Ugh, that man is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," Tigress complained, "Why couldn't it have been him that got sick?"

"I think we've all seen more of Neal than any of us wanted to," Ivy commented, "But that doesn't mean I'd want him to get sick."

Tigress simply rolled her eyes.

"Chase, do you think you could lend him some pajamas or something?" Carmen asked, "You're probably the closest one to his size."

Chase gave a silent nod and then turned to head in the direction of his room.

"So, how are we going to stop this from happening again?" Player asked.

"He's left us with no choice and we're going to have to keep him chained," Carmen answered, her tone somewhat regretful, "It's cruel, but I don't see what else we can do."

Ivy then let out a laugh. "I can't believe Zack missed all this. He would have found the whole thing hilarious!"

"I wonder how they're doing?" El Topo wondered out loud, "Do you think they found Mime Bomb's sister yet?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mime Bomb buckled his seatbelt, and then glanced over at Zack who was trying to fit in the other seat. Zack pushed a bunch of junk out of his way, half crushing Mime Bomb in the process.

"Sorry about all the crap in the backseat," Alys said apologetically, "I don't normally have passengers."

The whole inside of the car was jammed full of everything from sport's equipment to boxes of papers, and Zack and Mime Bomb could barely fit in the back. Once Zack managed to get the door closed, Alys put the car in gear and then continued up the road in the direction of her home.

"I have rain in my ears," Zack commented, rubbing at his ears.

"Yeah, Wales will do that to you," Alys responded in amusement.

She glanced at Mime Bomb in her rearview mirror and he seemed amused as he listened to Zack complain about Wales being a swamp. The smile on his face gave her hope, and she gripped the steering wheel hard, hoping she could convince him to stay. He seemed to have made a life for himself in The United States, and she was terrified that he was going to choose to leave. The thought of losing him again after just finding him was too much to bear and she was determined to make him as comfortable as possible.

It was only a short drive until they reached Alys' home, and as she placed the car into park, she gave her brother a warm smile.

"Welcome home," she said.

Mime Bomb stared at the house, not quite sure how he felt about this. Home… Was this his home? True he had lived there for part of his childhood, but his mind kept thinking of Team Red and the new family they had created together. He glanced over at Zack, the boy's constant kindness and support making Zack just as much family as Alys in his mind. He had a large family now, and he didn't always get along with all of them, but they were still his. They weren't going to make him choose, were they? Couldn't he have both?

Alys opened the driver door and hefted her wheelchair out that she kept in the passenger seat, and Zack quickly got out to hold his umbrella over her head as she got out. Mime Bomb crawled out of the car with a bit of difficulty since his limbs were all buried in piles of junk, and then stood in the rain as he waited for Alys to unlock the door. Alys hefted herself easily into her chair and gave Zack a nod.

"Thank you for not trying to help me," she stated.

"You didn't ask for help," Zack replied with a shrug. "I figured if you could beat Mime Bomb up, then you could handle getting out of a car."

Alys winced at the reminder of hitting her brother, and she glanced over at him, as he stood shivering next to the door. Alys wheeled up the ramp to the door and then unlocked the door, ushering him in out of the cold rain.

Mime Bomb stepped into the mudroom, and saw nothing had changed about it, his eyes immediately falling on a cracked board in the wall. He had done that during a tantrum as a child and had kicked the board and cracked it. He winced, still remembering how his grandmother had boxed his ears over that one. She had always been a no-nonsense type of person and she never hesitated to smack her grandchildren if they stepped out of line.

Mime Bomb stopped removing his boots as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Was his grandmother still alive? His eyes widened, and he suddenly grabbed Zack by the arm and jerked him around to face him.

"What is it?" Zack asked in confusion.

He signed at Zack, hoping the other boy understood and Zack stared for a moment and then frowned. "Grandmother?" he guessed, "You want to know about your grandmother?"

Mime Bomb gave a sharp nod.

"Oh, Gram is getting pretty frail," Alys told him, "She doesn't remember much these days, and mostly stays in her room. She's probably asleep by now, and you'll have to meet her in the morning."

Mime Bomb's whole body stiffened and he gave a shake of his head. Alys paused as she opened the door, and gave him a searching look.

"You don't want to see her?" she asked in confusion.

Mime Bomb adamantly shook his head.

"Why?" Alys asked gently.

Mime Bomb glared angrily in the direction of the open door and then signed to Zack.

"What's he saying?" Alys asked.

Zack stared in complete confusion. "I have no idea, but whatever he's saying seems to be angry and the word grandmother keeps coming up."

Alys glanced in the direction of the open door, a worried expression crossing her face. "Did gram do something to you?" she asked.

Mime Bomb stopped signing, and then gave a hesitant nod.

Alys frowned. "What did she do?"

Mime Bomb pointed at himself and when she nodded, he then made a throwing motion.

"...she threw you?" she asked in confusion. Her eyes then turned horrified. "She threw you away?!"

Mime Bomb nodded.

"Gram was the reason you went missing?" Alys guessed, looking more and more horrified by the moment.

Again Mime Bomb nodded.

"How? When? Why ? " Alys cried out in distress. "She couldn't have done this! Gram was devastated when you went missing!"

Mime Bomb shook his head and then mimed holding a phone to his ear.

"Ok, a phonecall," Alys guessed.

Mime Bomb then reached in his pocket and pulled out a few British Pounds.

"Money."

Finally Mime Bomb pointed at himself and repeated the throwing motion.

Alys stared at him, understanding perfectly what he was trying to say. "No…"

Mime Bomb nodded.

"But...why?"

Mime Bomb turned to Zack and signed to him.

"The car crash," Zack translated.

Alys felt tears burning in his eyes. "She blamed you for the crash…"

Mime Bomb nodded.

"And so she made a phone call to have someone take you away in exchange for money. She then pretended she knew nothing about your disappearance."

Another nod.

"Where…" Alys trailed off when she saw Mime Bomb beginning to hunch in on himself.

Alys instead reached for his hand, relieved when he allowed it. She gave his hand a tight and reassuring squeeze.

"You don't have to see her," she promised, "I won't even tell her you're here."

Mime Bomb instantly relaxed.

"Believe me, I'm going to find out exactly what she did, and I'm never going to forgive her for this. She's always been an unpleasant harpy, but I never would have expected her to do something like this!"

Alys muttered a few curses in Welsh and pulled MimeBomb into a protective hug.

"I swear I'm going to yeet that shrew at the nearest nursing home!" she vowed, "I'm going to rip her head off!"

She released Mime Bomb and then motioned towards the house. "Come on, let's get you warmed up, and then we can talk."

Mime Bomb finished removing his boots and then followed her inside, the smell of the house so familiar that he paused to glance around. The house was exactly the same and seemed to be in need of a few repairs, the wallpaper torn and looking a bit shabby in places. Alys would likely have trouble doing repairs herself, and Mime Bomb felt guilty as he looked around.

Alys led them to the small and cosy living room, and then approached the fireplace to start a fire. Once she had it going, she then wheeled towards the door.

"I'll be right back," she told them.

"You doing okay, bud?" Zack whispered to Mime Bomb in concern.

Mime Bomb didn't answer, instead wandering over to stare at the photos on the mantle. Zack looked over his shoulder, and saw several photos of a very young Mime Bomb. Zack reached over and picked up a photo of a tiny Mime Bomb covered in birthday cake, and he smiled.

"Ivy and I have pictures like this. You should get Alys to make you copies of all the family photos," he suggested.

Mime Bomb nodded, and stared at a picture of himself holding up some sort of trophy, but he didn't remember what it was for.

A few minutes later Alys returned carrying towels, blankets and changes of clothes.

"Here," she said holding everything out to them. "If you give me your wet clothes, I'll dry them for you while we have our talk."

Zack reached out and took the pile of things from her, and then glanced at Mime Bomb who was still staring at the photos.

"Thanks, that'll be great," he told her, "I feel like a drowned rat."

Alys wheeled around so her back was to them, and Zack began getting dressed in the borrowed sweatpants and sweater. He then gave Mime Bomb a nudge and shoved some dry clothes in his hands. Mime Bomb stared down at clothes, and then a look of resignation crossed his face. Surprisingly enough, he peeled off his wet clothes and got changed without a word of complaint.

"Okay, we're decent," Zack told Alys who turned around.

"I'll be right back," she told them, taking their wet clothes. "I'm going to toss these in the dryer for you."

Zack took a seat on the nearby couch and Mime Bomb continued standing where he was tugging at the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt.

"Relax," Zack encouraged, "Everything's going to be okay. Let's have a short visit, and then we can come back and see her again tomorrow, okay?"

Mime Bomb gave him a nod, and then slowly sat on the couch beside him, feeling a bit on edge about everything.

"Alys?" a voice called out, and Mime Bomb's head snapped around to stare at the nearby closed door.

"Alys!" the voice yelled out again.

Mime Bomb couldn't tear his eyes away from the door, and as it began to open, he stiffened in fear. An incredibly old woman with a cane stood in the doorway and peered out at them, her expression puzzled.

"Eilian?" she questioned, staring straight at Mime Bomb.

Mime Bomb grimaced at his mother's name.

[[Eilian, why did you cut off all your beautiful hair?]] she scolded in Welsh, staring at Mime Bomb's messy hair with a frown. [[You will never find a man if you don't take pride in your appearance!]]

Zack stared at the old woman and narrowed his eyes, slowly edging closer to Mime Bomb protectively. To his surprise Mime Bomb stood to his feet, his eyes never leaving the old woman.

"Mime Bomb?" Zack questioned in concern, watching as the other boy slowly began approaching his grandmother. "Don't do it. She's just an old woman. Don't hurt her."

Mime Bomb stopped directly in front of her and found he now stood a head taller than her, whereas she had towered over him the last time he had seen her.

Zack slowly stood to his feet, knowing no matter how much she deserved it, he couldn't let Mime Bomb hit her. He saw the moment Mime Bomb began lifting an arm, and rushed forward, but to his complete shock, Mime Bomb threw his arms around his grandmother in a hug.

"Eilian?" she questioned in confusion, laughing. [[What's all this about? Why are you-]]

She then fell silent as she pried him away, and held Mime Bomb at arm's length as she stared into his face. [[No...not Eilian.]] she corrected hesitantly. [[My grandson? Yuri?]]

Mime Bomb simply stared at her. She seemed puzzled and reached out and rested a wrinkled hand on his cheek.

[[You've gotten so big.]] she commented in surprise. [[Why are you so big? Something isn't right here...something…]]

She stared into his eyes, and then she let out a gasp and glanced around as if suddenly afraid.

[[What are you doing here?! You shouldn't be here!]]

Her eyes were wide and she began backing away on shaky legs. Without another word, she closed her bedroom door in his face. Mime Bomb clenched his fists, and then turned away, his expression a mix between frustration and disappointment.

"I don't know what she said to you, but don't you listen to her!" Zack told him.

Mime Bomb simply took a seat back on the couch, his eyes turning back to the door. He knew he should hate her, but the moment he saw her, he realized how much he had missed her. His emotions were confused, and he had no idea what to think. His grandmother had been a grouchy and stern woman, but she had loved him and treated him fairly...up until the accident that was.

Mime Bomb furrowed his brow, and wished he knew everything that had happened during that time, but doubted his grandmother would tell them. Drawing his knees up under his chin, he continued staring at the door, aware that Zack took a seat beside him.

"What did she say?" he asked.

Mime Bomb signed something without even looking at him.

"Nothing?" Zack repeated uncertainly, "It was obviously not nothing!"

Mime Bomb signed again, and Zack let out a sigh. "No, you're not okay. Look, I think we should tell Alys about it."

"Tell me about what?" Alys asked, entering the room.

Zack shot Mime Bomb a glance and then turned to Alys. "Your grandmother was just out here, and she said something to Mime Bomb, but he won't tell me what."

"She what?" Alys demanded, looking between her brother and the closed door.

Alys' eyes narrowed and her mouth was set in a thin line as she wheeled her way over to the door. Reaching for the doorknob, she quickly became aware that the door had been locked.

[[Unlock this door, right now!]] Alys yelled angrily through the door. [[What did you say to Yuri?! What did you do to him! Open this door!]]

There was silence from within and Alys sammed her fist against the door. [[Open this door before I break it down!"]] she threatened. [[What did you say to him?!]]

Alys was suddenly startled by a gentle hand on her arm, and when she looked up, Mime Bomb gave her a slow shake of the head. Alys frowned at him, and then gave another glare at the door. Mime Bomb gave her arm a slight tug, and she reluctantly turned away from the door.

"I put your clothes in the dryer," she stated with a deep sigh. "They should be dry within an hour."

Alys held something out to him, and Mime Bomb took it and turned it over, realizing it was a small chalkboard. Alys gave him a hesitant look and then held out a piece of chalk.

"I thought this might help us communicate," she told him, "I'm going to enroll in a sign language course first thing in the morning, I promise."

Mime Bomb frowned at the chalkboard but didn't protest and took a seat beside Zack as Alys wheeled over and shifted herself over to sit on the couch with them. Mime Bomb stared down at the board and tapped the chalk against it as if trying to think what to say. Finally he lifted it and began to write. Zack peeked over his shoulder and then squinted in confusion.

Mae'n ddrwg gen i

Mime Bomb held the board up to Alys who instantly shook her head. "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all. None of this was your fault. Say you're sorry again and I'll break that chalkboard over your damned head."

Alys then paused. "I should probably tell you I'm just joking just in case you think I'd really hit you," she said apologetically, staring at the bruises on his face. "I have a big mouth, but I won't hurt you, I promise."

As Mime Bomb erased the words with his sleeve, Alys watched him thoughtfully. "May I call you Yuri?" she asked.

Mime Bomb paused, and then wrote his answer, this time in English.

No

Both Zack and Alys seemed surprised by this.

"But that's your name!" Zack protested, "We're family, and isn't it okay if we use your real name?"

Mime Bomb tapped his finger next to the word no.

"You want us to just keep calling you Mime Bomb?" Zack asked.

Mime Bomb gave a nod.

"Why?" Alys asked, "Does your name have that many bad memories that you don't want to use it?"

Mime Bomb erased the board and then began writing. He paused a few times and then turned the board around.

My name is not safe

Zack was completely confused. "What? I don't get it, why is your name not-"

"I understand." Alys said, suddenly growing serious. "They were the ones who took you, weren't they?"

Mime Bomb nodded.

"I tried to investigate them, but all the numbers I had were disconnected, and then there was a fire and all records of them were lost. I tried researching this, but men showed up at my door and told me I was trying to access classified information. They took my laptop and every paper I had. Luckily I had a spare hard-drive. Now I keep five copies of everything."

"Who?" Zack demanded.

"I'm assuming you escaped and weren't just let go?" she asked.

Another nod.

"What did they do to you there?"

Mime Bomb erased the board and then began writing.

I don't want to talk about this. Not yet

Alys looked incredibly pained for a moment, and it was clear she wanted to ask more questions, but she refrained and instead reached for his hand.

"How about if we keep things lighthearted tonight and just keep the topics away from your past?" she suggested, "We'll deal with the rest another time."

"But, who were you talking about?" Zack demanded.

"I don't know how long you've known Yur-Mime Bomb but there are things that only he should share," Alys replied.

"But…"

Mime Bomb nudged Zack and then held up the board.

Please stop. I'm not ready to talk about this right now

Zack didn't look happy, but he gave a nod. "Okay, but you have to promise to talk to me about it later. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

Mime Bomb nodded as he erased the board.

"I know!" Alys suddenly said, snapping her fingers. "I'm going to put on some of our old home movies. It's been a long night for all of us, and so how about if we just relax for tonight and save the serious stuff for when we're not all so tired?"

Mime Bomb seemed relieved, and gave a nod.

"What about your job at the bar?" Zack asked, "Won't you get in trouble?"

Alys laughed and waved him off. "I own the bar, and I left my bartender in charge. He'll close down and take care of things for me."

Alys hefted herself back into her wheelchair and then crossed the room towards a large television. She reached down and opened a cabinet and pulled out a box full of SD cards. She looked through them for a few moments and then found the one she was looking for.

"Aha, here we go," she stated, inserting the SD card into the tv's card reader. "This one is my favourite."

She wheeled back to the couch and then took a seat next to Mime Bomb once again. Grabbing the tv remote, she turned it on and then settled herself down comfortably and then began scrolling through files on the SD card. Selecting a file, she turned the volume up as a video began to play. It looked like it was a school talent show and they watched as cringy after cringy performance was done by various kids.

"Okay, I think I'm next," Alys told them with a smile.

" Alys Firth !" the host announced on the video.

Sure enough, a small ten year old Alys walked out onto the stage dressed in her karate uniform. She then demonstrated an impressive and complex performance which was clearly the best in the show so far. When she finished, she gave a stiff bow to the audience who clapped and Zack clapped right along with them.

"Wow, that was great!" he complimented, "Did you win?"

Alys just laughed. "Just wait."

They watched several other painful performances and then the host announced.

" Yuri Volkov !"

Zack's eyes widened as a tiny five year old Mime Bomb strolled onto the stage seemingly unafraid of the crowd watching. He was dressed in a very adorable tiger costume, and the crowd began laughing at him. Zack scowled at the crowd, but surprisingly enough the little Mime Bomb seemed unconcerned.

The music began to play and then the boy began to bob his head along with the tune. Suddenly he began belting out the words to Eye of the Tiger with complete confidence. Zack watched as the boy performed like he was doing a concert, hitting each note perfectly and having all the drama of a seasoned rock star. The fact it was a tiny five-year-old child doing this performance made the audience simply sit in stunned silence. When the boy finished, he gave a bow with a flourish, and then skipped off stage to where his sister was waiting for him. It wasn't until he was off the stage that the applause came.

"Wow, that was really good!" Zack commented with a grin. "You were so little, buddy! Did you win?"

"Yup, that was the day my baby brother kicked my ass in a talent show," Alys laughed, smiling over at her brother. "I had no idea he was planning on doing this until he walked out on stage. This was during his month of dressing as a tiger, and so I didn't even suspect."

Mime Bomb had no memory of this at all, and had to admit it was funny. The look of complete outrage on little Alys' face was adorable, and he found himself smiling.

"You always had such a beautiful voice," Alys said wistfully, "I wonder what sort of voice you would have by now?"

Mime Bomb placed a hand to his throat and then frowned, honestly having no idea. He didn't even remember the last time he had spoken, and considered it thoughtfully. He doubted his voice would have deepened too much based on the range he had in his singing voice as a child, and figured his voice would have likely been a tenor.

Another video started and he glanced up and saw his mother smiling into the camera. She then turned the camera towards a man who was seated on a couch with a baby in his arms. The man was smiling down at the baby as he rocked it, and a tiny bit of blondish-red hair could be seen poking out of the blankets. The man glanced up and gave the camera a wide smile that reached his eyes.

"He looks just like you," the man said, his English a bit accented.

The man had a mess of dark hair that hung into his face, and gentle brown eyes, and he turned his attention back to the baby.

"I will have to think of a good and strong name for my son," he stated.

"He is a week old, Alexei, he's already been named," Eilian told him.

The man turned sharp eyes towards her. "What did you name him?" he demanded.

"Osian after my father," she replied.

"No, I don't like it," he stated, lifting the baby up so he could look into his eyes. "He needs a proper Russian name."

"He is Welsh, not Russian," Eilian informed him.

"Nonsense."

He was born in Wales from a Welsh mother; he is Welsh," she said firmly.

"A boy is whatever his father is," the man replied dismissively, "Now, what should I name you, little one? Hmm..."

"He has been named," Eilian said, her tone growing angry.

"Have you submitted the paperwork?"

"It is all filled out and ready to be mailed," Eilian replied.

Alexei gave a shrug. "Then it's not too late to change it. Keep Osian as his middle name if you must, but his name will be Russian."

"But, Alexei!"

He turned a harsh stare at her and she fell silent. Alexei turned his attention back to the baby and ran a rough finger across the baby's cheek as he thought.

"He will be Yuri Volkov."

"Alexei…"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Yuri Osian Volkov," he then smiled at his son. "How about that, Yura*? How do you like your new name?"

The baby shifted a bit in his sleep, but didn't wake.

Eilian muttered something in Welsh that sounded a bit rude and the video suddenly ended.

"Was that your dad?" Zack asked in surprise.

Mime Bomb nodded with a frown.

"Um...he seems kinda...er."

"Like a douche?" Alys helpfully supplied, "Yeah, he was. He didn't like anyone except for Yur-Mime Bomb. He only came around for holidays."

Video after video played, and Mime Bomb honestly wasn't sure how he felt about everything. The videos left both a happy and a bitter feeling in his chest and knew it was probably the same for Alys. They sat and watched until after two, and it was then that Zack began to drift off to sleep. Alys noticed and reluctantly turned the tv off.

"Can I pick the two of you up tomorrow so we can talk?" she asked.

Zack yawned, glanced at Mime Bomb and then nodded. "Yeah, Alys, that sounds great. Do you want to meet for lunch?"

Alys nodded. "Sure, I'll pick you guys up at noon and I'll take you to a good place that I know of. I'll grab your clothes from the dryer and then I'll give you a ride. You're staying at the B&B right?"

Zack nodded and gave another long yawn.

Alys left the room to get their clothes, and Zack gave Mime Bomb a nudge.

"How you doing, bud?" he asked.

Mime Bomb gave him a nod and a slight smile and Zack felt relieved. He clapped him on the shoulder, and then grinned.

"Let's go home, get to sleep and then we can get to know Alys, okay?"

Mime Bomb gave another nod. When Alys returned, she had their clothes in a bag and handed it to Mime Bomb with a smile.

"You can return the sweaters tomorrow," she told him, "It stopped raining for now, and so we'd better hurry and get you back before it starts again."

As they left the house, they didn't notice they were being watched from one of the bedroom windows. Alma Firth stared in disapproval and wrung her hands as she stared at her grandson. Once they were driving away, she turned away from the window and reached for the phone. Dialing a number she had long since memorized, she only had to wait a moment before it was answered.

"Would you care to explain why my grandson just returned home?" she demanded, "I thought you had him taken care of!"

She paused as she listened to the response. "Yes, I overheard them say they're staying at the Bed and Breakfast here in the village."

She listened again.

"Very good, make sure it's done right this time."

((* Yura is a petname for Yuri, normally used by close friends or family)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Neal sat on the mattress in the basement and glared at the shackle that bound his uninjured ankle. Shadowsan had warned him that if he managed to slip out of his chains a second time, he'd shackle his neck instead. Being leashed like a dog didn't sound like a very pleasant time, and so Neal left the shackle where it was.

He was wearing pajamas that were slightly too short in the arms and legs, and for some reason they reeked of mint.

He spent most of the day napping, but was quickly becoming bored out of his mind. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to, and Neal felt like he was being tortured. When Carmen brought down his supper, Neal knew he had to get her to release him.

"Are you just going to keep me down here forever?" Neal demanded.

"Hopefully Crackle will be more cooperative soon," Carmen responded.

"He's not going to trade himself for me," Neal told her with a sigh, "He's the leader of the group and more valuable than me. It would be stupid if he turned himself in."

"Sorry, Neal, but I don't see what else I can do at this point."

"Well...you could just let me go?" he suggested.

"You know I can't do that."

Neal leaned back against the post and gave her a smirk. "I can make you let me go, you know," he informed her.

Carmen raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Perhaps," Neal acknowledged, "There's a reason why no one has ever kept me captive for long."

"Oh?" Carmen asked, knowing he was likely trying to trick her. "Care to explain?"

Neal gave an evasive shrug. "You'll find out."

Carmen was almost certain he was bluffing, because Neal didn't seem like the type of person to hurt anyone, and he didn't seem particularly mad. She would watch him carefully, but she doubted she had anything to worry about.

"How is your leg feeling?" she asked, glancing down at his injured ankle.

Neal moved the icepack aside and she winced at the sight of the bruising.

"Ouch," she said sympathetically, "Do you need another icepack?"

"No, I've dealt with worse," he replied, "It's the boredom that's killing me. I think you should invite me up for a movie night."

"Sorry, Neal, not gonna happen," she replied, "How about if I bring down a book?"

Neal simply stared at her. "Do I look like the type of person that reads?" he demanded in amusement.

"That's all I can do for now," she said, giving him a sympathetic look.

"I give it two days before you let me go," Neal told her with complete confidence.

"Don't let your supper grow cold," she replied, turning to head for the stairs. "I'll bring you something to read in a few minutes."

Once she was gone, Neal stared down at his suppertray and frowned at the pile of roasted vegetables. He poked at a suspicious white cube, and assumed it was probably tofu.

"Yeah, mustn't let this get cold," he stated, pushing the tray away. "What a shame that would be."

True to her word, Carmen returned a few minutes later with a thick book and a battery operated book-light. She frowned at his untouched supper and then held out the book to him. He took it and turned it over. Jane Eyre.

"...thanks," he said, knowing that book was never getting opened.

"Was something wrong with your supper?" Carmen asked.

Neal gave the plate of food the side-eye. "I don't really eat...any of that stuff."

Carmen raised a brow. "You mean vegetables?"

Neal gave her a sheepish shrug, and Carmen rolled her eyes. "Would you like me to bring you a peanut butter sandwich instead?" she asked teasingly.

To her surprise, he nodded.

"Er, yeah, that would actually be great, love."

Carmen knew it wasn't her place to lecture a villain on their eating habits, and simply gave a shrug and knelt down to take the tray.

"Jam?" she asked.

"Do you have strawberry?"

"Probably," Carmen replied, turning towards the stairs.

"Good, because Crackle banned all of us from eating anything with strawberries, and it's been hell."

Carmen suspected Neal was just teasing her, and so she didn't rise to the bait. "I'll be back with your sandwich in a few minutes."

True to her word, she really did bring him two peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches, and then left again before he could think of something to say. He noticed that she had passive-aggressively cut the crusts off his sandwiches and cut them into triangles.

Neal let out a snort of amusement, and grabbed one of the sandwiches. Little did she know, he had no pride and so this didn't bother him in the least.

Two hours later, Neal was so unbelievably bored that he thought he was going to go crazy. Finally, out of complete desperation, he turned his eyes to the book, needing something to do. He picked it up and frowned at the thick book, having no idea what it was about. The cover looked incredibly boring, and he imagined the story would be boring as well. It was long too, reeeeally long. He flipped to the last page and saw it was over 800 pages in length. Letting out an agonized moan, he glanced around the basement, desperately looking for anything else to keep his attention.

The basement was pretty much empty and there was absolutely nothing of interest. He tossed the book aside and flopped over onto the mattress, but was feeling wide awake and knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Kicking at the support beam with the heel of his uninjured foot, he rolled over and once again found himself staring at the book.

"Ugh." Neal complained.

He stared up at the ceiling, and his eyes fell on the ventilation shaft that opened right above where he was chained. His eyes followed it, and he realized it likely went through the whole building. It was getting to be late, and Neal had a feeling Team Red would be going to bed soon. Neal smiled. At least that's what they thought.

Feeling quite smug, he waited until all movement upstairs stopped and then he picked up the book. Opening the cover, he skipped past the preface, and turned his gaze to chapter one.

Clearing his throat, Neal laid back on the mattress and then began reading out loud in the most obnoxiously posh British accent he could manage.

" There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question ."

As Neal continued to read, he gave every character a different voice and threw in his own sound effects for things that were going on in the story. As he read in a loud and clear voice, he knew very well Team Red would be able to hear him, but surprisingly enough, no one came down to the basement. He read chapter after chapter, having fun with the different characters as he assigned them voices, and soon he found himself getting into the story.

By the time he reached chapter five, Team Red must have finally begun to lose their patience with him because suddenly the light to the basement was turned off. Smirking to himself, he reached for the booklight and switched it on.

He then continued reading, raising his voice even louder. When he reached chapter 16, he suddenly heard a howl of rage from through the vent.

"I'm going to kill him!" Tigress snarled.

Neal continued on like he hadn't heard, and a few minutes later he heard a commotion from upstairs. He assumed it was the rest of Team Red stopping Tigress from murdering him, and felt a smile come to his lips. He continued on, and soon he heard screaming and fighting, but he never once paused. Eventually it went quiet, and hour after hour passed, Neal now genuinely interested in how the story was going to end.

" You did right to hold fast to each other,' I said: as if the monster-splinters were living things, and could hear me. 'I think, scathed as you look, and charred and scorched, there must be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesion at the faithful, honest roots: you will never have green leaves more— never more see birds making nests and singing idyls in your boughs; the time of pleasure and love is over with you: but you are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to sympathise with him in his decay.' As I looked up at them, the moon appeared momentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure; her disk was blood- red and half overcast; she seemed to throw on me one bewildered, dreary glance, and buried herself again instantly in the deep drift of cloud. The wind fell, for a second, round Thornfield; but far away over wood and water, poured a wild, melancholy wail: it was sad to listen to, and I ran off again. "

Neal adjusted himself a bit more comfortably, surprised someone hadn't snatched the book away from him yet. The hours continued passing, and he never once stopped reading. Eventually morning came, and he turned off the book light when the sun made its way through the tiny windows nearby. He was feeling rather sleepy at this point and finally decided he had terrorized Team Red enough for one night.

Closing the book, he gave a long and lazy stretch.

"Wait, you can't stop there!" Player protested across the speakers, "You were right at the end!"

Neal laughed and glanced up towards the camera. "Did you listen that whole time, Tiny Tim?" he asked.

Player was silent for a moment. "...maybe," he admitted. "Are you going to finish?"

Neal opened the book and saw there were only three chapters left. "Okay, okay," he said, "I guess I can finish the book."

He began to read the chapter normally, leaving out the accents and voices.

"No, no!" Player protested, "Do it properly, do the voices!"

Neal grinned and started the chapter over, this time doing the silly voices. When he finished the very last page of the final chapter, he snapped the book closed and then flopped backwards on the mattress, his throat rather sore from reading for ten hours straight.

"Well, at least I have one fan," Neal commented, closing his eyes as he stretched.

"The rest of Team Red certainly aren't very happy with you right now," Player informed him, "You kept them awake all night."

Neal let out a cackle, this being exactly what he'd been hoping for. A couple days of that, and they'd be begging him to leave.

"Can I make a copy of you reading the book?" Player asked, "The whole thing was recorded on the camera."

"Sure, knock yourself out, Tiny. Do what you want with it, I don't care."

Neal yawned widely, and yanked a blanket over himself, feeling very satisfied with himself.

Upstairs, Team Red was assembled in the kitchen as Shadowsan made breakfast for everyone. No one had slept a single wink all night, and now they had to stay awake for the day so they could meet with Crackle. It had gone quiet about an hour before, and everyone was in a foul mood. They were now on their fifth pot of coffee, and Ivy was absolutely thunderous. She was slamming around the kitchen like she was on her last nerve, and the bags under her eyes clearly showed how exhausted she was.

Shadowsan dished out omelets and then placed one on a separate plate for Neal.

"Douse it in tabasco," Tigress suggested.

"Or cayenne pepper flakes," Le Chèvre suggested.

"No , no one is messing with his food," Carmen said firmly, "No matter how annoyed we are at him right now, we don't deny him edible food."

Shadowsan added a bit of fresh fruit to the plate, and then turned to face the others. "Who is going to bring him his breakfast?" he demanded.

"Can I throw it at him?" Tigress demanded.

"No." Shadowsan said with a frown.

"Then, not it," she replied.

"I'll take it," Ivy said, angrily crossing the room.

Carmen hesitated. "Uh...I don't know if that's such a good idea, Ivy. I think you need to calm down a bit first."

"Relax," Ivy replied, placing the plate and a glass of orange juice on the tray. "I'm not going to hurt him. I'm just going to give him a piece of my mind."

"Ivy…"

"I'll be fine," Ivy replied, hurrying out of the room with the tray.

She was so furious that she wanted nothing more than to yell for a few minutes, and as she descended the basement stairs, she was already taking a deep breath to begin. She then paused when she reached the bottom and saw the villain. Neal was sound asleep, curled up underneath the blankets, and Ivy felt herself snap.

"Oh no you don't!" she hissed, setting down the tray.

She then strode over to the villain, and knelt down beside him. Taking a massive breath she then screamed into his ear as loud as she could.

Neal jerked awake in a complete panic, clutched at his chest, and he stared at Ivy with wide eyes, having no idea what was going on. Ivy then cut off her scream and glowered down at him.

"How do you like it?!" she snarled, "Is it enjoyable? You having a good time? Because I'm telling you right now, that I damn well wasn't having a good time all last night!"

"Geez, love, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Neal complained, still clutching at his chest from the surprise.

"If you think that you get to sleep after keeping us awake all night, then you have another thing coming!" Ivy hissed, leaning in close to his face. "I am making it my personal mission to make sure you don't get a single wink of sleep today just like the rest of us! Every time you so much as close your eyes, I'm going to be screaming in your face!"

Neal simply blinked at her, having no idea what to say to that.

"I have a little brother who has discovered nearly every possible way to annoy me, and so don't think I can't handle you, you greasy jerk!" she hissed, "I am a veteran at this!"

Neal rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "Who are you again?"

"Ivy."

"Well, Ivy, I guess the game is on then. I'm not stopping until you let me go, and I can keep this up indefinitely."

Ivy narrowed her eyes. "You're going down, bub, and if I don't get to sleep, then you don't get to sleep!" Ivy growled, giving him a poke in the chest. "Now eat your breakfast, and be glad I didn't shove it down your throat!"

Ivy then straightened up and stormed from the basement, without another word. Neal glanced over at the tray of food and saw it was just out of his reach near the stairs.

"Oh, come on," he complained.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Roundabout stared at his computer screen, and adjusted his glasses as he read the information presented. Frowning thoughtfully, he scrolled through a few pages and then slowly reached for his com. He dialed a number in his contacts and then waited as it rang. After several minutes of constant ringing, it was finally answered.

Dr. Vess angrily glared into the screen, but when he saw it was a faculty head, he quickly smoothed his expression into something a little more respectful.

"Evening Roundabout," he greeted, "What can I do for you?"

Roundabout never had very many interactions with the V.I.L.E doctor, and honestly didn't know much about him. He knew he had been handpicked because he was a genius, but other than that, he hadn't really bothered to learn much about him.

"Yes, er, Dr. Vesalius, was it?"

"That's right," the doctor confirmed.

Roundabout adjusted his glasses and then cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I was going through travel reports and I see you used the private jet to go to San Diego to treat Mr. Dash Haber?"

Dr. Vess blinked at him. "That is correct."

"Why did the V.I.L.E surgeon travel halfway across the world to treat something that could have easily been handled by the doctors at a local hospital? Also, why are you now in Poitiers? I see that you are planning on leaving for Russia in just fifteen hours, and so what was the point of this visit? There are no injured operatives in France that I know of, and fifteen hours is too long to refuel. This is a vast waste of time and money, and I just want to understand your reasoning. I am responsible for managing V.I.L.E's funds, and I have no idea how to justify these expenses."

Dr. Vess stared at him for a moment, and then leaned back in his chair, completely unconcerned. "You will have to take this up with Maelstrom or Bellum because I report directly to them . They have a vested interest in Crackle's team, and I follow orders. I am in Poitiers on personal business and I don't have to justify anything to you."

Roundabout was not expecting such a dismissive reply and he was instantly offended. "I say!" he exclaimed, narrowing his eyes. "Who do you think you are?"

Dr. Vess met his gaze head on. "I am the best and only surgeon V.I.L.E has any hope of obtaining. I can't be so easily replaced as say...an instructor."

Roundabout gaped at him, unable to believe the cheek.

"I am a very busy man, Roundabout," Dr. Vess informed him,"Unless you have something else to say to me, I suggest you take this up with Maelstrom and Bellum."

Roundabout sputtered indignantly. "You can be certain that I will be reporting this disrespectful attitude!"

Dr. Vess rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you will," he replied, reaching towards the screen.

A second later, the call ended and Roundabout realized he'd been hung up on. He frowned disapprovingly, and then immediately reached out to dial another number. This time the call was answered almost immediately and Professor Maelstrom's smirking face appeared on the screen.

"Why, Roundabout," he greeted in a silky tone, "This is rather unexpected. What can I do for you today?"

Something about Professor Maelstrom always made Roundabout instantly nervous, and he found himself pulling at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to loosen it a bit. "I was hoping you'd be able to clear something up for me, Gunnar."

Professor Maelstrom raised an eyebrow and was clearly intrigued. "Oh?" he questioned.

"I was going over the V.I.L.E expenses and came across some alarmingly high expenses associated with Dr. Vesalius."

Professor Maelstrom sat forward so fast that Roundabout jumped back from the screen. He then felt incredibly foolish, and took his seat again.

"Leave it alone." Professor Maelstrom ordered, his tone surprisingly angry.

"But why was he-"

"I said leave it." Professor Maelstrom repeated, his eyes narrowed to slits. "The doctor works for me and he has my full permission to use funds as he needs. You will not stick your nose where it doesn't belong, do you understand me?"

This reaction was so over the top that Roundabout simply stared at him. Why was he acting like this over a simple jet ride? Was there more involved with this than he realized?

"Do. You. Understand?" Professor Maelstrom demanded.

"I am head faculty just like you, Gunnar!" Roundabout pointed out. "I don't think it's right if we're keeping secrets from each other!"

Professor Maelstrom stared at Roundabout in an imperious way, and this only made Roundabout feel even more unsettled.

"Leave it alone." Professor Maelstrom repeated. "This is the only warning I'll give on this matter."

Professor Malstrom then hung up the call, and Roundabout was even more confused. What exactly was Maelstrom trying to hide? Was he somehow using the doctor to funnel funds out of V.I.L.E? He scratched at his chin thoughtfully, thinking about the private jet. There had to be something more involved with that visit than simply treating an injured operative. Roundabout narrowed his eyes, and knew he had to find out what Maelstrom was trying to hide.

Tapping his fingers on his desk thoughtfully, he knew he could never get away with investigating things himself, and so he'd have to send someone in his place. The key to all this probably involved Team Crackle, but he didn't know how or why. Who could he use that he could trust? An operative would be noticed missing pretty fast, but who else could he use? A civilian was out of the question, and his business contacts couldn't be trusted. His eyes then widened as a thought occurred to him. He could use an operative that was temporarily out of commission. No one would be paying attention to that operative and they could be moved without drawing any suspicion. The operative could get away with spying for him, and hopefully he'd be able to get some answers.

Knowing exactly who to use, he once again reached for his com. He scrolled through his extensive list of contacts and finally found who he was looking for. As the com dialed, he leaned forward on the desk and steepled his fingers together.

The face of Otterman appeared on the screen. "Um...er...hello?" he asked hesitantly, "How can I help you Mr. Roundabout?"

"Otterman, how are you recovering?" Roundabout asked, hoping he wasn't still bedridden.

"I'm doing very well," he assured him, "I'm ready to return to full duties."

The face of Mooseboy leaned into the screen. "No, he's not," he stated, looking disapproving, "He's still in a lot of pain, especially at night."

Otterman's face flushed. "Shh!" he hissed angrily at his partner, "Do you want me to get mindwiped?!"

Mooseboy narrowed his eyes. "I won't let them touch you." he vowed. "I'll protect you!"

Roundabout rolled his eyes. "I'm not planning on having you mindwiped," he assured the two Swedish men, "I have a special project I would like you two to participate in."

Mooseboy looked uncertain. "Sven still isn't well enough for a mission."

"This is a very mild mission," Roundabout assured them.

"What is the mission?" Otterman asked, curiously.

"I am going to send you to San Diego and your job is to spy on Team Crackle and report anything out of the ordinary. I don't care what it is, if it seems strange, then I want to know about it."

"That's it?" Otterman asked in surprise, "No heists, no fighting?"

"Nothing of the sort," Roundabout assured him, "Spy for me and tell no one about this. As far as everyone is concerned, you're still on leave recovering from your injury."

Otterman glanced over at his partner, who was looking incredibly worried.

"I dunno, Sven…" Moose Boy said, "You're still having trouble walking."

Otterman glared at him. "Henrik!" he hissed.

"You are not to interact with Team Crackle unless absolutely necessary. If they catch you spying, you're to say you've been sent to San Diego on a mission. Just make something up."

Otterman nodded. "We'll do it."

"But-" Moose Boy protested.

"We'll do it." Otterman repeated firmly.

Moose Boy heaved a sigh, and then nodded.

Roundabout gave them a nod. "I'll be in touch shortly to discuss this further. Cheers."

As soon as Roundabout disconnected the call, he felt proud of himself. Otterman and Moose Boy were the worst operatives V.I.L.E had and he knew no one would notice if they went missing for a while. He was going to find out what Professor Maelstrom was hiding one way or another.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dash's whole body ached, but he was warm and comfortable and just wanted to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his bladder had other ideas and so he reluctantly had to wake up. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw he was in his bed at the motel, and was confused. Glancing down at himself he saw he was wearing a pair of his expensive red silk pajamas. His memories were incredibly foggy and he wasn't quite sure what had happened over the last couple days. He thought he remembered being in a basement with Neal, and something about an icy shower, but he knew it must have just been a fever dream.

Dash let out a low moan, and shifted, and within seconds Crackle was kneeling down beside him. Crackle placed a hand on his forehead, and Dash swatted his hand away irritably. Crackle didn't seem bothered by this, and held out a thermometer towards him.

"I'm fine," Dash replied, starting to sit up.

Crackle placed a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him down, and without a word shoved the thermometer into his mouth. Dash sputtered in outrage, but Crackle held it in place and a few seconds later, it beeped and he pulled it out.

"99.1," Crackle commented, "Your fever is almost gone."

"We were worried about you," Theodore told him from the other bed, "You were real sick."

Dash again tried to sit up, but Crackle once again pushed him back down.

"Dr. Vess said you are to remain on bedrest for two to four weeks," Crackle informed him, "You can get up in three days to walk short distances, but you're not to put any strain on yourself."

Dash was even more confused. "Dr. Vess? Dr. Vess was here? Why?"

"For you, stupid," Paper Star informed him, "You almost died."

Dash glanced over his shoulder at Paper Star and frowned. "What?"

"You don't remember?" Crackle asked in surprise, "You were incredibly sick, and Dr. Vess had to remove your appendix. You have a serious infection right now which caused your appendix to become inflamed. It will take weeks for the infection to clear."

Dash's eyes widened and he reached a hand down to his sore stomach. His whole abdomen was hard and swollen and incredibly painful. He didn't remember anything from the past couple days and felt a bit disconcerted. He'd never had an operation before, and he rubbed a hand across the bandages, feeling rather annoyed. Two weeks of bedrest?! That was not going to happen.

Resting a hand on the mattress, Dash pushed himself up, but Crackle immediately stopped him.

"You're not to get up yet," he stated, "We're following the doctor's orders exactly. The infection is severe and Dr. Vess doesn't want to chance you rupturing anything."

"I need the bathroom," Dash snapped out at him, "I'm sure I can manage eight steps without dying."

"I'll help you," Crackle told him, "I'll carry you."

"What? No!" Dash responded angrily.

"I'm not letting you walk, and so you don't have a choice in this. The doctor gave me very strict orders to make sure you rest as much as possible. I almost lost you because of this illness and I'm going to make damn sure you recover."

Dash slowly rolled over onto his back and he crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Graham, you are not carrying me to the bathroom. I can walk a few steps across the room without dying."

"No." Crackle responded firmly. "I am following the orders I was given. I will carry you."

As soon as Crackle reached for him, Dash lashed out with a foot and kicked him solidly in the stomach.

"Don't touch me." he hissed. "I don't need your help, and you are not carrying me like a toddler."

Crackle clutched at his stomach and felt his patience starting to wane. "You're certainly acting like a toddler." he retorted.

Dash stared back at him arms crossed, and Crackle knew this was not going to be a fun two weeks.

"You have the choice of me carrying you, or you using a bedpan, but you are not getting up on your own."

Dash gave him an absolutely horrified look. "You can't be serious."

"Try me." Crackle replied.

Dash stared up at Crackle and could see the stubborn look on the other man's face and knew he actually meant it. Feeling humiliated and angry, Dash looked away and said nothing. Crackle eyed him for a moment and then once again reached down towards him. Dash said and did nothing, and so Crackle very carefully scooped the thin man into his arms. As he carried Dash towards the bathroom, Dash's expression was thunderous, but he remained quiet.

A few minutes later when they returned, Dash was still furious and glared at everyone in the room, daring them to say anything. He refused to admit it, but his stomach was hurting a lot from just this tiny bit of movement, and he doubted he would have been able to take more than a few steps on his own.

Crackle settled him back in bed and then lifted up his pajama top to check on the stitches. Removing the bandages, he saw the stitches were bleeding a bit and he frowned in concern. Grabbing the jar of anti-bacterial cream the doctor had left behind, he applied some to the wound, and Dash sucked in a sharp breath, the cream stinging. Crackle changed the bandages to clean ones, and then reached for a bottle on the nightstand.

Crackle then held out two pills and glass of water towards him.

"The doctor said to give these to you as soon as you woke up," he told him, "One is for the pain and the other is to help fight the infection."

Dash's stomach was in absolute agony and the thought of swallowing anything right now made him grimace. He didn't complain however, and took the pills without a word.

"Are you hungry?" Crackle asked him.

Dash immediately shook his head.

"Dr. Vess said you'll need to eat foods that are easily digested for a few days and so I have soups and creamed cereals for you."

"Ugh, stop talking about food," Dash snapped, rubbing at his stomach. "I still feel sick."

Crackle gave him a concerned nod. "Sleep for a while, but I want you to try eating something a bit later. Dr. Vess says you're underweight and he wants you to put on at least fifteen pounds."

Dash stared at him in complete outrage. "Fifteen pounds?! Are you completely stupid , Graham?! I am not putting on that much weight! You can tell Vess to drop dead!"

Crackle glared down at Dash, who was scowling up at him fiercely.

"Go to sleep and we'll discuss this later," Crackle ordered.

Dash narrowed his eyes, but he was actually completely exhausted, and so he let out an angry huff, and then began very carefully turning over onto his belly. He was a stomach sleeper, and even though this put a bit of pressure on his wound, he knew this was the only position he'd be able to fall asleep in. To his annoyance, Crackle pulled the blankets up over his shoulders like he was a child being tucked in, and he shot him a dirty look.

Crackle then crossed the room, and took a seat on his own bed, clearly done pestering Dash for a while. Speaking of pests...where was Neal? Dash glanced around but the Kiwi was nowhere in the room. Was he out running errands? Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dash relaxed and allowed himself to drift back to sleep. As soon as his breathing was deep and even, Paper Star glanced down at him, and then turned to look at Crackle.

"So, why were you guys worried about Dash again?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

TBC