Guest- This story may take some time to finish, although I will try to update more regularly than I do my other stories. As you can see, Danny isn't exactly trusting of anyone, despite the gentleness and trustworthiness shown by Sam and Tucker. To him they are just two more English-speakers, and all English-speakers are bad. The pace will be a little slow at first due to that reason exactly, but it'll get a lot more interesting as time moves on.

He sat silently in the corner. It had been a long time since Tucker and Sam decided he was calm enough to be left alone. They were so confusing... They were just so confusing... And nothing he wanted to say could be said. Nothing he wanted to do could be done. No matter what or how he felt about them, there was nothing he could do. There truly was nothing left. He had never been one to simply give up on life, but now... What was the point? He would be found, captured, and either eliminated or die at the mercy of Projekto Nivelo Up. Why? He finally had that tiny taste of freedom and now it was gone. Now all he could do was sit there, staring in a daze at nothing in particular.

He still had tear streaks on his face. He had never cried out of frustration before, but he was all too familiar with tears. Fear and pain had overwhelmed him many a time. It was the life he had lived, the only thing he'd ever known. But now these English-speakers had come along and changed all that. He'd cried over something he had never cried over before. Why did he do that? Was it instinctual? Did, at one point, they command him to cry? But then how would he know that? It had to be some kind of new reaction to an instinct. That was what they were wanting then... That was why they'd sought to confuse him to a level he never knew was possible to reach.

He ground his teeth and didn't so much as attempt to wipe away the new tears.

Was this it? Wasn't there more to life than just pain and suffering? And why him? Why couldn't he also be an English-speaker? He would fit in. He wouldn't be hurt so much. People would greet him and pat him on the back when he did a good job.

He hung his head.

But he never did a good job... He tried to do what they wanted but it was never enough. He couldn't speak English...he couldn't read their minds... Would it really be so hard to give him a hug for once? To stop treating him like he was useless? Or rather, like he was someone important? All they ever did was use him to their advantage. They manipulated him with these awful rings. The rings hurt him daily. If he slipped or fell, he would hit them and they would cause unnecessary pain. He used to be able to hold things and walk right...just like them... He couldn't anymore. Why did they take that away from him? No one ever tried to slap his palms before, and now they never could. They had taken away so much more than they thought...

But at the same time, maybe there really wasn't anything more to life than this. Maybe...maybe this was it. Maybe he really did lead a hopeless existence... In that case he would've rather died during Projekto Nivelo Up, or maybe be brainwashed—not that they needed to do that considering everything else they did to control him.

He slowly lifted a ring up and glared at it. Why had they done this to him? They had always been in control! Was it necessary to take away half of what he could do just to keep it? Was this worth it to them? Did they enjoy seeing him stumble around everywhere trying to keep up with them? Was that it? These metal rings weren't meant to be in a human body! Didn't they know that?

...Unless they didn't consider him to be a human. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he didn't fall in the same category as they did. Maybe they just didn't classify him as that important. And if he wasn't even a human, then what was he?

He jumped under Sam's unexpected touch.

"Sorry!" she said. "Didn't mean to scare you."

He watched her hand drop to her side and his eyes moved from her flawless hands to his own violated ones.

"Daniel, are you okay?" she quietly asked. "You don't look like you've gotten any better."

He blinked and looked up at her. She was mocking him, continuing to confuse him even now—even while he was at his lowest. Why did she hate him so much? What did he do to deserve this? Evil, disgusting creature... They were the real abominations!

His gaze instantly turned from confusion to pure hatred and he raised a hand.

She scooted back in response, as though he was about to strike her.

He slammed his hand down onto the floor. He felt the ring being pushed against bone. It hurt but it was better than doing nothing while he waited to die! He slammed the same hand down again, feeling the skin start to tear.

"What are you doing?!"

Let her screech, scream, rant, whatever...! How would she like it if she was—God forbid—unable to control something for once?! How would she like to be confused and tormented?! These rings were not staying on him—they were coming off whether she liked it or not! These rings were evil! They marked him as property! He wasn't in the facility anymore, he was in the Outside! He wasn't property anymore! He didn't belong to anyone!

He ignored some kind of demand she threw at him and took the ring in his mouth, jerking his entire head back in an effort to pull it out. It didn't matter how it came out, so long as it came out. If the end result was the same then any way was the right way. Besides, it wasn't like she would simply "take them out" for him. No, she and her kind had to have that warped love of power and authority. Well how was authority working out now?! Was she happy with herself now?!

"Stop, you'll pull your whole hand off!" she cried, making a lunge for him.

He twisted and continued pulling on that accursed ring—that thing that they seemed to adore making him wear. Blood quickly dribbled down his arm and dropped off at his elbow, making an ever-widening puddle of red. It was so painful that if he could, he would be screaming right now.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled it towards her, jerking him with it.

"Stop!" she choked out.

He hadn't heard that tone used before and looked up at her to see if something was wrong. He was used to tears on himself, but never before had he seen an English-speaker cry. He didn't even think it was possible for them to cry. Why was she crying anyway? Was she in pain? Was she so angry at him that she was crying about it? He...he just... Why did he do something like that? Why did he try to get the ring out? It wasn't just a useless attempt, but a stupid one as well. The only way to get the ring out would be to break his hand and rip the thing out. Yes, it was painful, but no...it wasn't worth it. It was just...he was so tired of it, of living like this for so long and never being able to understand a thing. He snapped, did something completely irrational, and now he could fully expect to be put back in his place. He really did do something wrong this time. He had defied them—defied her—and would be punished severely for it. He deserved it though. They always called him unintelligent and it was proving to be true.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not exactly wanting to see it coming.

He tensed dramatically when he felt her grab his wrist and pull his arm behind him. Here it came... Any minute now she would pull out a whip or an electrical wire... Maybe some barbs on said wire... He would be chained, injected with some kind of fluid—it wasn't ectoplasm—that practically paralyzed him, and would be helpless to even try to make it less painful. Or maybe she would call Tucker and they would form a new kind of punishment. Maybe burning him— No, they had already tried burning him with prods a good time ago. They would chain him tightly against a wall and let him grow increasingly regretful and defeated, and then someone would come in holding a long rod that was red at the tip. Then they would poke him with it pretty much everywhere. Having lost his voice, there was no way to tell them the amount of sheer agony he was in. Saying it simply "hurt" was a huge understatement. They said he felt a temporary burning sensation, so that was why they had to do it repeatedly—to make sure they got their point across. Oh, they got their point across. They got their point across very well. So now, hopefully, burning him wouldn't be it. But then what would be it? It could be anything! An entire range of options just waiting to be used!

If he still had his voice, he would be whimpering his apologies right now.

She sniffled and let out a shaky breath.

"Why would you—? Don't...please don't do that again... Your hand is bleeding so much it's leaving a puddle and I just—" She hiccupped, breaking her rant.

She let go of his arm and he heard her walk off to somewhere else. He took the chance to hold his rings up to his chest. He had torn open a lovely little hole from trying to pull that ring out... It was painful and it was bleeding profusely. It wasn't like she would care too much, not after what he did, but...he cared. To him this blood counted for something. He definitely didn't take pride in what he had done, nor did he think what he did was right. He had let his emotions take over and chose to disobey her.

When he heard her returning, he immediately returned to the position he was in prior to her leave. He didn't know what she had brought back with her. He didn't want to know.

She sniffled once again. Was she still crying? Was she really that angry? Or was it that she was worried she might be losing control? She wouldn't lose control after this...

He clenched his teeth as she grabbed his wrist for the second time.

"Don't ever do this again," she said. "Y-Your hand is just a wreck and it looks so painful— I mean it has to be painful, right? Doesn't this hurt you at all? You've...you've torn a hole in your hand from this."

He subconsciously tugged on his hand when her grip loosened a bit.

"No, Daniel, don't move," she squeaked.

The word "no" echoed in his mind. He didn't need to be as smart as an English-speaker to figure out that she didn't want him to pull his hand away. He wouldn't, not after already having defied her—even going so far as to turn away from her when she dove for his hand. It was completely unacceptable on his part. He understood that.

He relaxed ever so slightly when he felt a soft material being pressed against the hole in his hand. It made sense to bandage him up before doing whatever she had in mind to punish him. He would probably end up bleeding from the punishment, no matter what it may be. That was usually how it went, anyway. They didn't always treat the wounds caused from any kind of action taken to control him. They didn't need to take action though. He tried to do exactly what they wanted, when they wanted. But on occasion he grew scared—so scared, in fact, that he became consumed by fear and didn't move. They saw disobedience in that. That was the reason he had been whipped not too long ago. He still remembered what each lash felt like...

But now, this time, was different. He hadn't done this with a true intention of disobeying an English-speaker; he had done what he did because everything was so confusing and frustrating. Unlike at the facility, he didn't know what they wanted. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

After she got done with his wounded hand, she did something just...crazy. It was something an English-speaker should never do or even think of doing. But...she did it anyway.

For the first time, an English-speaker turned him around and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him just close enough to feel comfortable with the contact.

She shakily inhaled and whispered, "I don't think I can possibly imagine what you went through or what happened to you before you came here, but you don't have to do this to yourself. Please don't let me see anything like this again, Daniel."

A/N

-^.^- Heehee! Poor little guy finally got some kindness... Maybe that hug will change his opinion of English-speakers?

Sorry if it seemed rushed at all. I was pushed for time. Today is my birthday so yesterday night I had to really get cracking! I wanted to update THREE stories on my birthday because I always feel so crazy generous on my birthday (and Christmas especially). Still, I had to write a TON to get finished with the updates for the following three stories: The Boy With the Rings (around 2,000 wpc), Whatshisface (around 2,000 wpc), and Flowers Will Grow (around 3,000 wpc).