He had thought the tour wouldn't take long. Yet the house, much like the rest of his life, turned out to be rather complicated.

At first it seemed to consist of the rooms one might have expected. Bedrooms, a guest room, bathrooms, a library, and even a sewing room; Spike took them all in with no real need for explanation. Soon though came rooms which did surprise him, things like a movie theater, a room for bumper cars, and one designated just for video games. Considering the private jet and the lab below them, he could have guessed Davenport to be a man with means, and maybe a bit eccentric. Kind, sure, but guarded. Bree may have been the one showing the most hostility towards him, and Adam indifference, yet Davenport was the one Spike needed to watch most.

The most curious part to Spike was how none of it seemed to spark anything within his mind. Hard as he tried, he didn't recognize any of it. Room after room he stepped into, and room after room his mind stayed quiet. It seemed odd. A kid his age would have been interested in at least one of the activities the rooms housed, right? The further they went the more Spike attempted to figure out this aspect about himself. Did he play basketball? Like video games? Play guitar? Surely one of them fit his personality.

Much to his frustration, nothing came. Spike considered asking Davenport, yet decided against it. He wanted to remember on his own, wanted his own mind to give him answers instead of always needing to rely on others for them. Yet the more he pushed, the less his mind seemed willing to give.

There was another more glaring omission about which he finally felt the need to ask. "Where's my room?"

It had given Davenport only a slight pause. "You don't have one. None of you do."

"Leo does."

"Leo isn't bionic."

"So?"

"It's complicated." Spike was really beginning to hate that word. "When you all came to live here, I learned your bionic chips needed to regenerate themselves regularly. Because they are attached to your nervous systems, they are affected by things such as emotions. With them being prototypes, this means they have a tendency to glitch. Hence the capsules. Each is designed to help keep them stable."

He supposed it made sense. The mention of the capsules gave way to another question though, one which had nagged at Spike while looking around the lab. If Davenport was going to continue demanding trust, he might as well set about gaining answers in return. "Why is there only three of everything when there are four of us?"

Davenport stopped. "Because you and Chase share everything."

"Why?"

"Because you aren't always here."

"I don't live here?" Spike felt his frustration rising. "You said I was part of this little operation of yours."

"You are." Davenport rubbed his face. "It's just-"

"Complicated?" Spike folded his arms.

Davenport sighed. "Yes, complicated. You came here years after the others. I haven't really had a chance to put together another capsule, so you share with Chase."

It probably should have upset him more, knowing that information. Yet something in Spike hadn't really expected a room or space of his own. It didn't keep him from wishing he did though, a place he could explore and that could possibly give him clues. It didn't matter though; not really. He would just figure things out on his own.

Yet another pressing question came to Spike's mind as the pair returned to the living area. The tour must have taken longer than he thought as Bree and Adam were both there each sitting on a couch. "Where's Chase?"

"That's a good question," Davenport answered. "And something we need to-"

Adam actually let out a laugh. "Silly, he's right-"

His answer was cut short by a sharp jab to the ribs from Bree. "Adam," she hissed.

Adam rubbed his now sore ribs. "Bree, what gives?" His face contorted into realization. "Oh!"

Spike's brow furrowed. What the-?

Davenport cleared his throat. Spike noted the rather poignant glance he gave Adam and Bree. "As I was saying, it's why we need to know what happened out there, so we can get him back."

"He's missing?" Spike felt a his gut drop. As always the reason eluded him, yet the knowledge that Chase was out there, possibly in trouble, scared him. "You aren't worried for him? He could be hurt or-"

"We are," Davenport answered. "He's safe."

"How do you know?"

"It's…"

"Complicated." Spike snapped back. "Why is everything with you so complicated?"

"I've been wondering that for years myself." After a moment Davenport straightened his shoulders. "We'll find him. With that in mind, back to the lab."

Adam and Bree both groaned. "Come on, Mr. Davenport. We've spent all day there," Bree started.

"Yeah, I'm tired," Adam added.

"I know," Davenport countered. "But the sooner we get down there the sooner we can start figuring out how your chips were disabled and how to fix them. Also, you can help me give Spike a proper tour of the lab. Come on."

More groans followed, yet both Bree and Adam stood. Spike followed behind as they all made their way inside the elevator. When they returned to the downstairs area a sense of ease returned. Spike wondered why he felt more comfortable here. Upstairs he had felt uncomfortable, as if for some reason he wasn't supposed to be there. Which was ridiculous of course; he was allowed upstairs, just like everyone else.

Davenport pulled up the holographic map again then turned to a large panel in front of the capsules. "Now, let's go over it again."

Spike found himself joining in on the collective groan this time. How many times was the man going to have them do this? Spike had to give it to him, Davenport was insistent.

He probably should have been listening as Adam and Bree talked. Instead, Spike looked at the map in front of him again. Even if it was from an overhead view, his mind recognized the waterfall almost right away. His eyes traveled from the spot up stream in the opposite direction from which he wandered, eventually landing where Davenport said the drone crashed. It was a good bit of distance. How had he gotten there? Why travel to the waterfall?

He frowned, then looked again at the others in the room. The map had disappeared, replaced with a strange sort of image Spike couldn't decipher. Bree was currently sitting on a counter, phone in hand and typing, while Adam was swerving around in a chair, staring at the ceiling as he went. Davenport however seemed absolutely fixated on the image before him.

"It's fascinating," Davenport said, breaking the silence. "I need to do a full evaluation to be sure, but from the primary scan I did when you all first got home I can tell you that your chips did this."

"What do you mean?" Bree asked.

"I mean, your chips did it on their own. It was a self-preservation move. They shut down in order to not overload."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because they were programed to do so. There's only one scenario I can think of to cause it. Someone tried to access the Trojan App."

The what? Based on the looks Adam and Bree were giving Davenport, it seemed they had never heard of it either. All waited.

"A contingency plan," Davenport explained. "In case someone was able to hack into the system or something went wrong. It allows for the person with access to the app to remotely control the chip for a limited time."

"Huh?" Adam asked.

"You mean control us?" Bree asked, clearly hurt. "You put that in our chips? Why?"

"I didn't. It was created for our android program, yet apparently, a version of the app was uploaded into your chips. I discovered it years ago and deactivated it in case someone were to ever find out about the program. I then set a failsafe. If anyone tried to remotely access the Trojan App, the system would prevent it-"

"By shutting down our chips?" Bree folded her arms.

"That's what I can't figure out. I would never risk your safety by doing that. Ever. Whoever set about activating the app did so in such a way it caused a massive overload of your systems. Whether on purpose or not, it's hard to tell."

"So now what do we do?" Adam asked.

"Stay here. It's been days since you were last in your capsules. Even with them disabled, it's highly possible for you to glitch. Give me a day, maybe two, and I'll figure this out."

"Two days?" Bree groaned.

"Come on, Mr. Davenport!" Adam added.

Davenport shook his head. "I know it's frustrating, but it's for the best. I promise as soon as I can I'll have it done, but until then, stay here. If you need me, I'll be in my office."

With that, the trio was left alone.

"Ugh!" Bree threw her head back. "It's not fair!"

"You think you have it rough?" Adam whined. "I had plans."

"What plans?"

"Well, to make plans!"

Bree rolled her eyes. "Caitlyn is going to kill me. This is the third time this month we've had to postpone meeting up. And what am I supposed to tell her? Sorry, but my dad has told me I have to stay here until my chip is ready?" She reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone and began typing again.

Spike stared at the screen which was still lit up above them. "You know, for being a super genius to create this crap, he sures seems to not know a lot about it."

"Oh, he didn't build it," Adam offered.

Spike could only stare at him. "He didn't?"

"No, evil Uncle-Daddy did."

He was being so nonchalant about it that at first Spike thought he must be kidding. "Who?"

"Adam!" Bree hissed again.

"What?"

Bree sighed. "Davenport did make them, or at least helped with it. But so did Douglas."

Douglas… he knew that name. The plane; Davenport's brother. Yet that wasn't what sparked Spike's brain. It began again, this time the image of standing behind bars. Where was he? How had he gotten here?

The man with spiked hair appeared before him. Another voice came from the darkness. "Douglas, hurry! There isn't time…"

The man with spiked hair turned to face the shadowed figure, to say something… Suddenly he was gone, replaced by the wreckage… then the boy on the ground…. A shot….

Why couldn't his brain understand? Just one thing at a time! Spike gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. The sharp jab of pain came and went just as quickly. He took a moment then opened his eyes again to find Bree and Adam watching him.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped. Both looked away again. For what felt like the millionth time silence filled the room. Forget this. He needed some air, somewhere he could breathe again. Spike jumped up from the counter on which he had been sitting. "Well, this has been fun."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bree asked.

"Blowing this popsicle stand. Got a problem with that?"

"Yes," she replied. "You heard Mr. Davenport-"

"That's another thing." He spun around, spurred on by her response. "Why do you call him that? You said he's your-."

"Uncle, yes." Bree straightened her shoulders as if to brace herself. "It's so we don't slip up during missions. If we called him uncle and anyone heard, it'd be easy to find us. Davenport Industries is world known."

"And he says it makes him feel old," Adam added.

"He is old." Spike shrugged. Both Adam and Bree actually smiled at this. Spike felt himself smile as well. The tension wasn't exactly gone, yet some of it was released. It felt good.

"So then uncle-daddy is…"

Bree bit the inside of her lip, staring at Adam. The older boy shrugged, causing her to sigh. It was something with weight to it, Spike realized. "Father. That's... Douglas."

"You said Davenport-"

"Technically he is our uncle, but he raised us."

Spike nodded. Made sense. Not the whole story, but enough, at least for now. He should ask about it, but really, he was done talking. He turned again to head towards the doorway.

"Where will you go anyway?" Bree asked.

Spike shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"I'm in!" Adam jumped up as well. "Let's go. Hitting the town!"

"Adam," Bree hissed.

"What? Come on, Bree," Adam whined before standing beside Spike. "He's right. We've been here forever."

Bree bit her lip.

"Coming, princess?" He didn't really care either way, yet still he asked.

Bree rolled her eyes. Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she stood. "Let's go."