The easiest thing he could remember, over the course of a few days stuck here in Sam's room, was a sharp tune produced when Sam's lips were pursed and air was pressured out. The tune could rise and lower in octaves. Sometimes it was random and sometimes it made a harmonious sound, much like music without words.

Every time she left he kept himself occupied by trying to do the same with his own lips. Most of the time he either ended up just blowing air or practically spitting. It did pass great amounts of time though and another, more frequent pastime was sleeping. It had to be the aftereffects of Projekto Nivelo Up. This simply wasn't natural and for someone who was trapped his whole life, without ever knowing the Outside, that kind of knowledge was so basic that it said something. He had to have slept about five or six times during one day—he only tried to do that after Sam left to go wherever it was she went. She would be gone for hours and he was free to roam about if he wanted, without her ever knowing about it. However, it was only natural that that kind of logic had turned into an instinct that kept him in one place all day. The only time he actually moved was when he was repositioning himself and that could hardly be called moving at all. This whole unmoving act was doing a number on his muscles and his body was becoming sore from it, but it had to be better than what might happen if she saw him somewhere else and decided to put him back in line. Freedom seemed to be out of his reach.

Hopefully the exhaustion would wear off in just a few more days' time and he could practice that air thing Sam sometimes did. He noticed that whenever a deep, long silence fell over the room, she would look around and blow out pressurized air. It could've been part of the English language, which he was desperate to learn in order to have any chance of communication. At least she did give him chances at learning English when she spoke to him—which was more often than anyone else would've. It gave him the impression that somehow, she was lonely. Even he knew that by nature, humans were drawn to other humans and made bonds with them if they wanted. Whether it was a good one or a bad one, it was still a bond and they still knew each other. Her good bond with Tucker wasn't always as tight as he thought it was and Tucker couldn't come to her whenever she wanted him to. The result was her trying to make a bond with him, but it couldn't happen because they couldn't communicate. Surely she saw that.

Then again...English-speakers were so unpredictable. The best example was her attitude toward him and the situation they both were stuck in. Even he knew she wasn't entirely partial to keeping him here. If she had any sense she would know he felt the same way. Still, her attitude remained gentle no matter what. His experiences at the facility told him she could change in an instant whenever a certain circumstance came to rise. Right now it was the same thing every single day, setting aside the two days she stayed with him. She came to him, got him a large portion of food and water—probably another diet change—and told him "eat up". It was a casual command no doubt, but still one he couldn't understand. Something in his gut told him she wanted him to eat and right now his gut was his only ally. It was the only thing he could trust and sometimes it even acted as his translator. He could tell he was doing what she wanted when she turned back to her book and scribbled on blank pages, then going back to scribble on pages with thin, blue lines running across them. Some papers had characters that he'd never seen before—probably because he never got to see much of it. She led an interesting life compared to his. It amazed him that she acted so bored and dissatisfied with it. He assumed those characters must be bad things that she didn't like.

If he ever learned what they were, would he like them?

For a second time, his curiosity got the best of him. Coupled with the pangs of soreness in his muscles and the creeping exhaustion coming back to him, it was a strong force. Granted, it was one that would've been easily suppressed before, but it was overwhelming now and just like the very instincts he'd been raised to follow, he could no longer help his mind keep that urge in check. The result could be bad, neutral, or good, but he couldn't stay balled up in that accursed corner forever. Something had to be done.

He took a deep breath and tried to summon at least a little courage. He managed, just like he had when he left the forest of the tall green things to join up with the other humans despite the fact that they could've harmed him if they wanted, and stood warily in the corner—not so much in an attempt to gather even more courage as an attempt to relieve the horrible ache in his body.

He tried to make the best of it and see this as a new, fancier cage in which he'd always been allowed to move around in.

With another deep breath, he slowly, cautiously walked forward towards the girl as she sat whispering something seriously under her breath. He couldn't comprehend what it was but she seemed far too focused on those pieces of paper to notice him. There had to be some way to get her attention but there just...wasn't. He could only hope he didn't frighten her.

He craned his neck over her shoulder to see what was so interesting and/or horrible about those characters and why she was so serious about them. He breathed as silently as possible but somehow it caught her attention and she tensed.

"Uh..." she mumbled. "You're kind of in my personal space... Or wait, do want to help me? I could really use it. Just my luck to be distracted in class... And of all classes, pre-cal!"

He didn't—no, couldn't—respond. She was undoubtedly talking about those papers. He would give anything to know what she was saying. It could be that she actually trying to explain what they were and why they had to be taken so seriously.

"Well...if you're looking for a tutor on pre-calculus, I can't help you. I barely understand it as it is," she said. "In fact I've never been so good at any forms of math."

She suddenly leaned back and sighed heavily. "That's a stupid thing to ask... You're mute; you can't help."

Her expression changed in a single instant and she said, "Aw, man, I'm sorry! I know that sounded offensive but I didn't mean it that way!"

Her tone was apologetic, giving him the impression that she'd said something she didn't mean to. Whatever it was, he didn't understand it anyway so...no need for apologies. He honestly didn't know why she would bother with apologies. Maybe she just slipped up. In any case it was nice to know some tenderness was being shown. He might as well enjoy while it lasted.

"You know, I just realized something," she continued. "I've always been asking who you were, but I've never actually asked what your name is. Kind of feels like I've been talking to a manikin instead of a person, so what's your name?"

She slapped her forehead and dragged her hand down. "Sorry, sorry... I keep forgetting you can't talk. It's just...everyone has to have a name."

She suddenly snapped her fingers as though she had a brilliant idea. "Hey, what if we made a name for you until we can find out what your real name is! It'll have to be something good though; it needs to mean something..."

A/N

Yeah, sorry guys. I just thought this was the perfect place to leave off so I cut it short. "Why'd it take so long to update?!" Ummmm...I don't know. It's getting harder and harder to come up with ideas. I need to take it at a slow pace because in case none of you have noticed, Danny isn't exactly ready to trust anyone yet.

I guess you can simply count this as half a chapter. Other half's on its way!

Oh, and THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your reviews! Believe it or not, I now have an idea of how Sam will find a name for Eksperimento 428.