CW: same as last chapter plus depictions of panic attacks and... bad things happen *shrugs*

It felt good to be finally outside.

Sheldon ran his right hand up and down the seat belt, barely feeling the rough edge under his numbed fingers. He watched cars pass by but ultimately stop when they reached the red light. The pleasant breeze that entered the window disappeared when their car halted as well. There was a nice artificial smell of air freshener mixed with a knock-off brand of leather that stayed too long in the sun. It was warm. Cars honked when those in the front didn't move the second the light turned green. The car's radio lost signal and let out an annoying white noise before the channel was changed. Teenagers were cursing at each other as they crossed the road, each holding a variant of popsicles in their hands.

He pulled on the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing for what seemed to be the fifth time in the last two minutes. It was large enough to comfortably hide the cast on his arm. It felt nice to finally wear real clothes again, even though he still needed help with dressing and tying his shoes. He was glad, nevertheless, and almost felt normal.

Life felt normal again.

-"You're still not gonna tell me what happened?"

Sheldon glanced to the side. His father had his hands firmly planted on the driving wheel and his eyes were focused on the road. He had lost count of how many times he had been asked the same question over and over again, and every time he responded with the same answer.

-"Not yet."

Without making eye contact, Gerald asked: "then when!? You'll have to tell those shady people that barged into my door the other day the full story." He frowned softly. "What's easier, telling me, so I can help you out, or tell a bunch of strangers first?"

Sheldon stared at the window and went silent for a moment. It wasn't fair; he thought. He had just left the hospital, and before he could even go to the familiarity and comfort of his home, he was told he should go to the police station to present his testimony. He had yet to fabricate a lie, because he knew the truth wouldn't work in his favor, nor did he think he could say it out loud without feeling his stomach turn.

-"They can't force me to talk."

Gerald pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated sigh. "They barged into my house and took shit away by force and you think they can't force whatever the fuck they want out of you!?"

Sheldon stiffened and pressed his lips into a thin line.

-"Look, I'm sorry. I am just…-" He made brief eye contact to make sure Sheldon was listening. "I am confused. They were acting like you've done something way bigger than you, something bad, and I am worried."

Was it truly bad?

Sheldon still didn't know how to feel about the mission's outcome. On the one hand, he stopped the robots, saved everyone, and helped Jenny. On the other hand, he almost got them both killed -or enslaved-, held the responsibility of letting that soldier die, and let himself be used as bait and broken like a toy. In the end, it left him with a mixture of relief and guilt, but also a memorable win because he made sure Jenny loved him enough to sacrifice herself, and that he earned her respect, even if just a little.

He smiled, his heart warming all over again at the idea of her loving him back and them dating. He had to ask her out, make things special for it to work just like what Brad had said, and live all the sweet nothings he fantasized about for the last three years.

The smile dropped and he felt his ears heat in embarrassment when he caught the confused glare his father was looking at him with.

-"I just remembered something funny."

Gerald sighed and shook his head, and the rest of the car ride went silently.

Less than half an hour later, Sheldon found himself alone in a small, well-lit, three-by-three meters room with a lone tiny table and three chairs around it. There was a camera in the upper corner, facing him, and he could clearly see his reflection in the one-way mirror on the opposite wall.

It was the first time Sheldon had seen his reflection in so long, and, despite his baggy clothes, he could tell why everyone was insisting he should eat more. He shrugged it off, looking at the bright side. He was finally getting that sharp jawline girls were so crazy about. The bags under his eyes reflected how tired he felt, however, and he considered buying some over-the-counter sleeping pills to fix the issue.

Despite it all, and for the first time in forever, Sheldon didn't hate the image he saw in the mirror.

The chair felt uncomfortable, but he guessed the entire room was purposely designed to make him uncomfortable. The walls were painted a dirty shade of green, and the floor was made of faded yellow ceramic; a combination of colors he recently came to realize he hated. It was overkill; he thought. He was told that he was just a witness and would be treated as such, but they still searched his clothes and emptied his pockets, which only had blue and white paperclips in them.

Unlike what he saw in movies, the room wasn't lit with a single lightbulb, or painted black with a hard metallic door leading outside. He thought it didn't make for the right aesthetic, which didn't let him live the full, faithful experience, but then he started picturing pink interrogation rooms with fluffy chairs, and it made him laugh.

-"Why is he laughing?" a male investigator asked, watching Sheldon from behind the glass.

-"Dunno. I am positive that kid's crazy," Sadie scoffed, pushing her hands into her back pockets. "The kinda people who become mass shooters because they were bullied in middle school."

The man hummed to himself, considering her words, and then asked: "what came in Dr. Stanley's report?"

-"Heh… That…" she fell silent as if trying to remember. "It said something about major depressive disorder, anxiety… possibility of a form of…" She clicked her tongue. "Whatever that word was, I don't care. We were given green light to interrogate him, and we will."

-"I see," he responded after a moment of thinking. "I'll talk to him first, and I will call you if I need help."

Sadie's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but then she put up a smirk and gestured with her head for him to go. " 'ight, good luck."

Sheldon had already started to daydream from boredom when the door opened, revealing a slightly overweight middle-aged man in a casual suit. He walked inside and pulled the chair to the opposite side as he greeted: "Hello, how've you been?"

-"F… fine?"

-"Good," he said as he sat down, leaned forward, placed the pen and paper down on the table, and offered a handshake. "My name's Micheal."

Sheldon looked at the hand offered to him, then at his own broken one before extending his left hand instead for an awkward greeting.

-"Sorry about that," Micheal said, still maintaining a friendly, non-threatening manner. "You know why you're here, right, Sheldon?"

-"To answer some questions?"

-"Right, and I am gonna need you to be completely honest with me."

Sheldon half-nodded and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

-"What were you doing in Avion's aero manufacturer on May the 27th?"

-"I… I was… I followed Jenny there. She's my friend and I… uh… I was worried about her." He absentmindedly tugged at his sleeve while avoiding eye contact as he spoke. The detective had a missing button on his shirt, he noted. "I thought I could help her out if she needed… I guess."

Who was he protecting with his lies? As far as he was concerned, he had done well and saved countless lives, so why couldn't he speak proudly of it?

Micheal exhaled audibly from his nose and rested his elbows on the table. "That was your sole motive for going there?"

Sheldon nodded.

-"I need you to be completely verbal with me, do you understand?" he ordered, voice firm and demanding. "And look at me when I am talking to you."

Sheldon wanted to protest that he preferred to speak the bare minimum for the sake of his still-healing vocal cords, but the persistent stare the detective had made him agree in defeat. "Yes. I understand."

-"How and when did you get there?"

-"I… Uhm…" he closed his eyes, trying to come up with something. "I went there by one of Nora's… err, Noreen Wakeman's personal aircraft. Maybe at nine."

-"You stole it?"

-"No!" He stiffened. "No, I borrowed it."

-"Did she know about it?"

-"Uh…" he trailed, feeling himself get driven into a corner. Suddenly, he felt aware of the eyes on him, the way they followed his hands as he anxiously fidgeted with his sleeve. He sat on them to force himself to stop. "Sh-she-... yes. She knew."

-"So she sent you there."

The neutral tone of voice made it impossible for Sheldon to tell if it was a question or a statement, but he felt like he was accidentally framing Ms. Wakeman into legal trouble.

He was never a good liar, not if there was no mask to hide behind.

He was about to confess to stealing the aircraft instead when the detective added: "she sent you to install the software she programmed."

Sheldon was at a momentary loss of words. "I… No… She didn't… She- No one sent me, I dunno what you're talking about!"

-"Sheldon," Micheal said, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together. "We know what happened. Lying would get you nowhere."

In a complete change of demeanor, Sheldon yelled: "then why the heck do you want me to tell you something you already know!?" He stood up, not allowing the detective a chance to respond. "I don't want to go through this." He paused, afraid that he might have been too rude to a figure of authority, but also wanted to stand his ground. "Allow me to leave, please."

The door opened suddenly, and Sadie stepped in. Her heels clicked against the floor, echoing loudly in the mostly empty room and forcing Sheldon into high vigilance as if expecting immediate danger to be bestowed upon him.

-"Alright Mike, I'll get it from here," she told her partner as she sat on the chair closest to Sheldon. "Sit down," she ordered, her tone of voice similar to that of a first-grade teacher with their student. When he did, she turned to look at Micheal and said: "would you bring the pieces we gathered, please?"

After he left, she leaned forward in her seat, invading Sheldon's personal space and locking eye contact with him as she smiled. He didn't know what to make of her smile. It was one of those expressions that were supposed to be warm and kind if they were placed in any other scenario but the current one. He felt unnerved.

-"Did Noreen Wakeman know you are the creator and operator of the mechanic suit commonly known as The Silver Shell?"

Sheldon's eyes widened as he shrunk away from the woman. He shook his head slowly and babbled: "n-no, she did not… She didn't know that I am, wait! I am not the creator of The Silver Shell. I-... I don't even know what you're talking about!"

Sadie frowned but tried not to show annoyance in her features. "Keep lying to me, boy, and I'll personally make sure you end up in prison for the rest of your life," she threatened calmly, then chuckled to herself. "And you know what they do with pretty boys like you there, hm?"

He didn't respond for several seconds and just stared back at her, thinking about his limited options and wondering how much sincerity was behind the threat. He was sure of one thing, however; Telling the truth meant he would get Ms. Wakeman in trouble along with him.

-"I really don't know what you're talking about," he finally responded, trying to keep a steady voice and stop himself from shaking. "This has nothing to do with me."

Sadie tapped her index finger repeatedly on the table, an unamused glare on her face. Micheal then returned, a ratty, thorn backpack in his hand and a small device in the other.

Sheldon's face lost color when he recognized the backpack.

The detective emptied its contents on the table; A couple of pencils, a bright yellow EpiPen, antihistamine pills, house keys with a cat keychain, a blue lipstick, and a burnt metallic plaque that resembled a disfigured face with simplistic features.

Sheldon kept staring at the white face of his robotic creation and the lies that personified into missed belonging.

-"Do you recognize this stuff?" Micheal asked, and when he received no response, he laid a blueprint on the table that was too familiar for comfort because Sheldon remembered the sleepless night he pulled designing The Silver Shell on it.

-"This-" he pointed at the backpack- "was found buried in the same site you were in when the paramedics rescued you, and these-" he picked the keys- "are the keys to your house, and this-" he tapped the blueprints- "was in your garage."

Sheldon looked at the man, who stared back at him with a serious, rigid expression with his hands planted firmly on the table, and then at Sadie, who crossed her legs and arms over her chest, smiling proudly. He felt cornered, defeated, and his voice was lost for a long time before he found the courage to speak again: "y-yes, it's true, I made him, but I swear Nora does not know anything about this."

-"So she wasn't the one who sent you to install her program?" Sadie asked.

-"No, I didn't install- I went there 'cause I wanted to."

Without looking at her partner, she requested: "play the tape."

Micheal held the tape player and pressed the play button, and soon, a conversation played, a conversation that started so celebratory and happy and ended in horrible screams and threats. One that Sheldon wished to forget because of all the terror and pain associated with it.

"They did! They stopped, it's over!"

"Hey, you did it. I knew I could rely on you."

"you're the person I could rely on the most."

"Half of solving this mess was on you. You got us the blueprints and found the hideout, and now you stopped them!"

The conversation continued, proving him guilty against the law and a hero to his friend, and, most importantly, taking him back to the facility. Mangled faces of rotting corpses flashed in his mind along with the unforgettable smell of death and the sight of dried-up blood. He felt his stomach flip just remembering it. A foul taste invaded his mouth as his breathing quickened.

-"S-stop," he whispered, hyperventilating. "Turn it off."

The record continued playing. He flinched and felt his heart skip a beat when he heard that familiar, mortifying voice.

"ah... That was so sweet. Aren't you two just the cutest?"

"Thanks for reminding me how troublesome this little brat is."

The investigation room melted into shapes and colors until it got replaced by another room that was larger and dimmer. He spotted the soldier's body after she had just killed him in the corner of his eye, but then all that he could see was her glowing green optics and sadistic smile. He raised shaky hands to his ears to block the non-existing sounds, but he could still hear the mocking laugh accompanied by the loud, jarring computer alarm.

Suddenly, the air felt thicker than he could work in and out. There were no hands on his neck or water to drown in, but he still suffocated. He felt foreign, cold fingers all over his skin, and the phantom pain on his right arm and wrist was all too real for him to disbelief.

-"Stop, make it stop!" he yelled, hands pressing as tight as possible on his ears as he ducked his head and accidentally hit it on the table.

-"That's enough, Mike," Sadie ordered. "Turn it off."

He pressed the pause button a few times, but the audio continued playing until it reached the screaming part. "Old cranky shit," he cursed, lightly hitting the device until it stopped.

Silence filled the room, but Sheldon kept his forehead pressed on the table and his hands clasped tightly to his head, — the left with significantly more force than the other — Both detectives could clearly hear him hyperventilating and quietly repeating the same mantra of "stop it," and "let go."

-"Hey, look at me." Sadie snapped her fingers close to his ear, but he only stiffened more and pressed his hands harder. He pulled his feet up on the chair and continued shaking violently despite the warm weather. "Is he faking it?" she asked, looking at her partner, not knowing what to do.

Micheal walked to the door. "I don't know, but I'll get his father here to calm him."

Several seconds passed before he returned, accompanied by a confused Gerald.

-"I don't understand," he said. "What's wrong with him?"

-"He's having a panic attack," Sadie responded, standing up to give him space.

Sheldon had already stopped repeating for them, or whatever was haunting him, to stop, but his breathing was still labored and his left hand dug into his scalp, pulling roughly on his hair.

Gerald didn't know how to calm someone with a panic attack, he didn't know what caused it, or how to act, so he only placed a hand on his kid's back and said in a quiet, yet firm voice: "hey, calm down, there is nothing to freak out about." When Sheldon didn't respond or show the slightest sign that he had heard him, he caught his wrists and forced his hands away from his head. "Goddamnit Sheldon, stop! You're hurting yourself."

-"No, let go! Leave me alone!" he yelled, eyes closed as he frantically shook his head and tried to pull his arms free but couldn't, so instead, he resorted to kicking like a mortified child would behave. "Let go, let go, let go!"

Some kicks landed successfully on Gerald's legs, so he forced him to stand up by pulling his arms higher. Sheldon kept trying to free himself and back away while yelling for him to let go, or attempting to yell, seeing as his voice was still too weak for him to scream any louder than normal speaking tone.

An embarrassed rush of blood flushed on Gerald's face, seeing his teenage son act so… infantile, especially with how the two detectives watched the scene with what could only be described as mild amusement. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped his arms around him into a forced hug, ceasing his struggles.

-"Stop, you're overreacting."

-"Please, lemme go, d-don't touch me," he pleaded, weakly pushing and punching on the broad chest until his hyperventilation and overall poor health got the best of him. He felt dizzy, his legs gave up, and he collapsed into the embrace, sobbing quietly.

-"Calm down, it's just me," Gerald said, helping him back on the seat and keeping a firm grasp on his arms. "No one's gonna hurt you. You're being… irrational"

Sheldon kept his head down and eyes closed, but his breathing seemed to slightly regulate back to normal. He was still completely detached from the outside world, however, as he curled back into himself and tried to pull his arms free, all while crying.

-"Great acting skill, huh?" Micheal whispered sarcastically, standing close to his partner.

-"Shut up," she snarled, annoyed, then headed for the door and said out loud: "We'll be back in an hour after he calms down!"

Gerald watched the two leave with a hateful glare and muttered under his breath: "bastards!"

To a teenager, there was nothing more precious than a lazy weekend.

Jenny didn't get to spend lazy weekends.

She stood there in one of the vast forests surrounding Tremorton, holding a rabid rabbit by its ears, eying the white small animal with its sharp buck teeth and foamy mouth.

-"Ugh, why do we have to do this?" she complained, pushing a needle into the skin underneath the soft fur. The rabbit squirmed and wiggled until it went limb, so she dropped it to the ground. "Isn't this… I dunno, animal control's job?"

Another rabbit let out a rather loud squeal when Melody did the same with it, putting it to sleep. "Dr. Wakeman said they escaped from a genetic lab! So they're far too dangerous to be dealt with by humans!"

-"Right. Of course, they are," Jenny deadpanned, shooting yet another small animal from afar.

The pair continued with their task in silence, hunting the little rabbits from their hiding spots or separating them from other frightened animals as they attacked them. The sun was shining brightly, making the green leaves glister and warming Jenny's outer shell, the cool breeze under the shade making for a refreshing contrast when she caught a rabbit that chewed on a tree trunk.

She recently came to discover that she adored the sun and its warmth on her usually cold shell.

The feeling of wet grass, soft fur on adorable kittens, skin-to-skin contact, and cool water after a scalding hot fight with fire-breathing monsters, all felt too amazing for her to believe she was deprived of it her whole life. There were a few more things she had yet to experience, however, but was excited about.

For example, she wanted to experience the feeling of being held and kissed. His silky lips against her own, his soft hands cupping her face and drawing her closer, or perhaps they shyly trace her waist and stomach in a feather-light touch. The warmth of his skin in contrast to her cold, hard body made her feel like she would melt like sugar on a hot summer day, and then she would press kisses all over his-

-"You've been holding that rabbit for about… err two minutes now."

Jenny jumped and took out weapons of mass destruction and aimed them in the voice's direction, and there she laid lazily on a tree branch; Misty, smiling and swinging her legs in the air. "And you had that stupid smile on your face," she chuckled. "What'cha thinkin' about?"

Jenny relaxed, dropping her guard, weapons, and the sleeping rabbit. She then crossed her arms, turned the other cheek, and shouted: "none of your business!" Her cheeks then heated when she remembered she was just fantasizing about intimacy with the five-foot-and-a-half geek. "And don't you dare try to find out by reading my mind!"

-"Yeah, no. I'm trying to get rid of that old habit," Misty remarked as she jumped to the ground, and before she could say anything else, she was forcefully pushed to the grass when Melody threw herself at her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.

-"Oh, Misty, you finally showed up!"

Misty sat up despite Melody's weight on top of her. She had a warm smile on her face and wrapped one arm around the other girl, then, after noticing Jenny's stare, she said: "don't get ahead of yourselves." She got up, lightly pushing Melody, and added: "I am only here for my payment."

-"And then, after she let you go, you went back out of your free well?"

Sheldon stared at the half-empty bottle of water in his hand. He spent the last twenty minutes truthfully recounting everything the detectives wanted to know, except for Tuck and Ms. Wakeman's involvement. They didn't insist he make eye contact this time, and he was grateful for it. He couldn't look anyone in the eye without feeling dread and shame wash over him, not the two officers, not his father, and not even himself, because the person in the mirror disgusted him.

-"Yes, I didn't want to leave Jenny behind," he responded, voice small and devoid of emotions. He felt detached from the story he was telling, as if he was just an outside observer who witnessed it.

They also allowed Gerald to stay during the interrogation based on his request to know what happened. He sat there silently, listening to the story with an unreadable expression.

-"And then what?" Micheal asked after writing something down.

-"I found out they went on with the deal, and I was devastated… She had Jenny under her control, and…" He paused, not knowing how to continue with the next part. He already told them how she tortured him, however hard it was, but he was unable to explain what followed.

Why did he feel so haunted? He faced death and physical violence so many times before, so why did it leave him so mentally broken?

-"And then she wanted to strip me, for some reason," he said, and for the first time since he started talking, he felt something. His ears heated in embarrassment and shame. The bottle in his hand scrunched under the pressure of his grip, and he had to remind himself to stop holding it so tightly, for the sake of his still-healing knuckles.

Why was he so ashamed? Men weren't supposed to be affected by such things. Maybe he was just not tough enough.

He continued with the story, and the feeling of complete detachment returned. The words flowed. The scenes played in his mind like a sequence of a movie he watched a long time ago but never forgot.

-"And those explosives? How'd you get them?"

-"I made them," he responded, and when no one spoke for a while, out of disbelieving him or playing another mind game to pressure him to talk, he added: "nitro glyceryl trinitrate, I made it by mixing glycerol with nitric and sulphuric acids."

-"Uh-huh, and where'd you get those?"

-"Bought them."

The room fell silent again, making him wonder if those chemicals could really be bought over the counter. Making and owning explosives was illegal, he realized. He had just put himself in more trouble with the law because he couldn't let them know they were Ms. Wakeman's.

-"And then what happened?"

-"That's all I remember."

-"Okay, so in conclusion," Sadie spoke for the first time in a while, leaning back into her seat and crossing her legs. "You found the terrorists' hideout by tracking down your missing robot suit, sacrificed it to get inside, snuck in without activating any bobby trap, hacked into the central computer, and destroyed the whole place with yourself still inside." She chuckled lightly. "Impressive. Impractical, but impressive for a seventeen years old."

-"This is… a lot to take in," Gerald commented from his seat next to Sheldon, but displayed no significant reaction otherwise.

-"Impressive. A lot. Call it what you want, it's still illegal," Micheal said, then started counting on his fingers. "Production and possession of dangerous explosives and weapons, trespassing, interference with the work of authorities, dealing with dangerous organizations, and being a 'vigilant' under a fake identity that endangers others."

Sheldon kept his head bowed down, feeling too exhausted to justify himself. Accepting punishment sounded easier than facing the situation.

-"This is ridiculous. I am getting a lawyer before we discuss any further in—"

-"Relax, Mr. Lee," Sadie dismissed with her hand, a calm tone to her voice and posture. "He's still a minor, and he didn't harm anyone. We're letting him go with an admonition, and this situation and his 'secret identity' won't be made public, for the sake of his safety." She then looked at Sheldon, who wasn't looking back. "Do you know what an admonition is, Sheldon?"

-"No."

-"It means we will keep our constant watch on you and your activities. As soon as you display any suspicious behavior, we'll take real and severe legal actions against you."

-"So just the same as before?" Sheldon asked, finally looking up.

-"You're a talented kid, and it'd be a shame to let your talent waste away in prison," Micheal spoke, ignoring the question. He stood up and walked toward the door. "One day, when you're physically and mentally well, I'd like to see you serving your country. Don't do anything stupid like this before then."

He walked out, and Sadie signed the universal 'I am watching you' sign to Sheldon, and left.

Gerald let out a loud and exaggerated sigh. "Come on, let's just go home."

Jenny sipped from her favorite brand of jet fuel, watching Misty shove yet another slice of pizza in her mouth and follow it with a large gulp of soda; the payment she asked for. When the mysterious ninja suggested they just go and eat somewhere normal, Melody and Jenny stared at each other in bewilderment, but ultimately agreed.

The recently rebuilt mall was as busy as it had always been, so Misty, being widely known as the dangerous, runaway criminal, disguised herself as a civilian by putting on the most basic outfit in Jenny's humble opinion; a jacket, denim shorts, and Sheldon's stolen blue and white cap.

-"So, what happened with the cousins?" Misty asked with a mouthful of food.

Jenny placed her cap on the table. "Weirdly enough, they've left me alone. Tiff sometimes says hi to me in the hallway, and Brit…" She paused to think, then shrugged. "She completely ignores me. She's on crutches, and she broke up with her boyfriend after finding out he cheated on her with the cheerleaders' captain when she was in the hospital."

-"Must feel satisfying, huh?" Misty asked, tearing another slice. The cheese stretched, and the rest of the topping slid along with it.

-"Not really, I don't care about them anymore," she mumbled, her eyes following a passerby in complete disinterest with the conversation as she picked up her drink again.

-"Hmm… and what about me?"

Jenny looked at her with a quizzical look, drink stopping midway. "What do you mean?"

-"What do you think of me?"

-"I… I am not sure," she swirled the cup, watching the black liquid stir while resting her head on her palm. "I am grateful to you for saving Sheldon, but I'm…" she sighed. "I'm not sure I can trust you after everything."

-"I know," Misty stated in a rather relaxed tone, a small smile on her lips as if nothing in the word bothered her. "No one really does."

-"I trust you," Melody retorted, joining the conversation.

Misty's grin grew into something that appeared genuine, but then it fell when she said: "no one else really does." She looked at Jenny and added: "remember when I told you my team disbanded? I lied, they kicked me out 'cause they decided they couldn't trust me." She then smiled and lifted her legs up to the chair to sit cross-legged. "Guess I made them too paranoid with my mind-reading powers!"

-"Or maybe because you're a backstabber," Jenny deadpanned, and Misty responded by staring at her with a look of pure annoyance as she tightened her hand around her soda can. The drink spilled into her hand and onto the table.

-"Uhm, guys, let's just not?" Melody interfered, nervous.

-"Anyway, I decided not to do that anymore." Misty shrugged. "And I've decided that I will leave this planet."

-"What!?" both her companions blurted out loud.

-"What? I am wanted for life around here," she scoffed. "Besides, this place is getting boring. I just came here to say goodbye."

-"But where would you go?" asked Melody.

Misty simply shrugged, staring at her hand that felt sticky with the already-drying soda.

-"What about your home planet?" Jenny suggested.

-"Eh? excited to get rid of me already?" She chuckled, but the laugh came to a short end. "No. I ran away from there because people considered me a freak and I… I left."

Jenny hummed and placed her hand on her chin, thinking, her face then brightened. "Oh! I know, how about Cluster Prime? I have an awesome friend there and you should-"

-"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. Cluster Prime? Vexus's planet? Heh… There is no organic life there. I'll probably starve to death."

Jenny fell into silence again, appearing to be in thoughts, but before she could suggest anything else, Misty stood up and said: "don't overheat your gears, I'll think of something." She then took off the cap and handed it to her. "Return this for me, will you? Oh, and tell him I am sorry."

Jenny took the hat and eyed it, remembering the night she discovered the truth about The Silver Shell. She then looked at Misty, who was smiling and offering her hand for a handshake. She took it and instantly regretted it because of the sticky soda.

-"Ew, Misty!"

Misty laughed and said: "guess this is goodbye. Huh, didn't expect it to get so—"

The sentence was cut short when Melody threw herself at the purple head and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. "Promise me you'll visit sometime."

Misty rested her head on the blonde's shoulder and wrapped her arms in return. "Of course." She then pulled away to look at Jenny. "We're cool, right?"

-"Right."

-"Good, 'cause I was the one who let those rabid rabbits out."

-"What!?"

Misty then turned into her phantom shape and flew away, her laughter echoing as she disappeared from view.

People continued shopping, eating, laughing together with their companions, or looking at their phones as they pushed their shopping carts out of the supermarket on the ground floor, and Jenny and Melody stood there beside the untidy fast-food joint's table, staring after the mysterious ninja.

Somehow, Jenny felt a pang of sadness wash over her. She didn't know what to make out of it, but she liked to think Misty wasn't an enemy anymore, and that their friendship might bloom again someday when she grows out of the superpowered immaturity. It was wishful thinking, but Jenny was optimistic.

She felt a hand lay on her shoulder, and she glanced at her companion, who had a similar sadness in her eyes that she tried to drown with a warm smile.

-"Wanna go shopping?" suggested Melody.

-"Sure!" she responded, glad that she still had a trusted friend by her side.

The ride home was silent, just enough time for Sheldon to drown in mixed thoughts.

He was supposed to be intelligent and outsmart others no matter the situation, but turned out those traits were also a fabrication of his deceiving mind. He couldn't hide his mistakes and achievements from those two officers, and ended up having his little win and even his personal privacy robbed from his broken hands, as if he had committed a crime while trying to prove he wasn't entirely made from see-through lies.

Lies. He was made of lies but couldn't even fabricate them out loud to save himself without hiding behind the mask of The Silver Shell. The creation that still haunted him with its shadow, even long after being destroyed, proved he was nothing without it, even if he insisted on otherwise by actions everyone thought were illogic.

Maybe he should just build another one, rebel against those vain laws, and hide his insecurities behind its shadow, but he couldn't. He wouldn't hide it from Jenny, and she wouldn't allow it to be built, and more importantly, his hands were too broken to even tie his shoes, let alone invent.

He looked down at his hands, and once again tried to bend his right hand's fingers, but they refused to comply beyond slightly wiggling. It pained him to think they were rendered useless forever, but suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. He could create artificial nerves for himself. He gave a robot the ability to feel through her thick metallic skin, so why couldn't he do the same with himself and restore the lost motor skill? All he needed was to wait for the other hand to fully heal before teaching himself how to use it as well as the dominant one, he might then invent aid tools for his right hand, and then fix the damage in it, and he would go back to practicing the one thing he enjoyed the most as if nothing had ever happened.

All he needed were his trusted tools, some creativity, and a ton of determination.

Sheldon was already visualizing the work process when he heard his father loudly sigh. He glanced at him to find him focusing on the road, eyebrows knotted and lips pressed together tightly.

-"Are you mad?"

There was a moment of silence in which he thought he wouldn't receive an answer, but then the man spoke, tone low. "Am I mad? Am… I… mad? Are you fucking kiddin' me!?"

Sheldon tensed and stared at him with wide, questioning eyes.

-"What on earth were you thinking with… with everything you fucking did!?" he continued, tone of voice aggressively rising. "Making literal bombs and weapons!? Stepping into the most dangerous zone on the whole planet and almost getting yourself killed just to impress a damn robot that you like!? A robot! Have you lost your mind!?"

-"I… No-... I didn't think about it that way. I just wanted to be helpful to her."

-"Yes, and you had me go through all of this stress and pain with your stupid, reckless actions, to be 'helpful' to a damn machine!"

Sheldon opened and clicked his mouth shut multiple times, unable to find the words to express himself because of the odd mixture of guilt and anger that boiled with him. "But... she's not just a 'machine', please don't call her that."

-"Oh God." Gerald rubbed his forehead, then shook his head in disapproval, then placed his hand back on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. "I should've known this would happen. Your screws are too loose to be left alone unsupervised."

-"Hey, I'm not crazy!" Sheldon snapped. "You just… don't understand," he added, looking to the side with an irritated frown on his face. His house came into view when the car turned.

-"Of course, I don't understand. Who else but you would get attracted to a deranged, glorified, female-shaped piece of technology?"

-"Don't talk about her like that!" He attempted to match the aggressiveness in his voice, but it broke slightly, and when the car stopped, he immediately unbuckled his seat belt, left the car, and headed to his home, only to realize the front door was locked.

He waited in silence as Gerald unlocked the door, and then headed straight to his room.

Just when he stepped into what was supposed to be his safe, familiar, and comforting place, he realized something was wrong.

Sheldon was a messy person, but he always knew exactly where he kept and how he arranged his belongings, and he instantly realized he was missing multiple things. The absence of his personal computer was the first thing he noticed, but he supposed it was confiscated. Then he noticed the disappearance of all the homemade machines and projects he kept in his room, then his collectibles, action figures, games, and magazines. He then went into the closet to search it, only to find nothing there but his clothes.

-"What the—..." He fell silent, another scary thought popping into mind.

His workshop.

Sheldon skipped down the stairs, dodged his father in the hallway, and barged into the garage, only to find it empty, vacant... foreign. There were old oil stains on the floor, patches of discolored, neat-shaped spots on the walls where his tools once hung, and blacked areas where he had some not-so-safe accidents. The only evidence of what once had existed.

It had been so long since he was absent from his home, and he missed the comfort it provided, but for the one place he was the happiest to suddenly change and greet him so coldly, it felt devastating.

It crushed him.

-"W-where… what happened to my stuff?" Sheldon mumbled in disbelief, a betrayed expression in his eyes when he faced his father, who had followed him into the garage.

-"Some were taken away by those… agents," Gerald responded, tone slightly calmer. "And I got rid of all the unnecessary stuff to make moving away easier"

-"Moving away!?"

-"Yeah, I know you hate change, but this city is too dangerous," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "And I can't leave you alone by yourself anymore."

Sheldon felt his heart sink into despair, but he tried to argue back: "no, no, no, no! You can't do this to me. I like it here. What about all my friends—"

-"Friends?" he scoffed. "What friends? You've always been a very withdrawn kid with too much trouble with others in school."

-"But I got Jenny and—"

-"God, not this again." He held a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and inhaling deeply, then continued: "Sheldon, that robot is not your 'friend'. It's just a machine."

Sheldon's hand tightened until the pain in his knuckles screamed at him to stop. "Stop calling her that! You don't know her like I do!"

Silence filled the room, and the two simply stared at each other, one with anger and betrayal while the other with pure pity and disappointment.

-"This… this is all my fault," Gerald muttered. "I let your self-isolation and obsession with technology grow until you got too confused with what counts as real relationships and what's not." He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, who only stared back at him with an unnerved look. "I'm sorry, I was stupid to think you were smart enough to be on your own-" He sighed. "Things will change, I promise."

-"But I don't want this stupid change." Sheldon pushed the hand away. "I am not leaving Tremorton!"

-"No, this is final," Gerald insisted, hissing through clenched teeth. "As soon as you graduate, we're leaving this hazardous, sorry excuse of a city, and I am getting you away from that metal head that keeps putting you in danger, and you—" he jabbed an index towards the boy's chest — "are not allowed to keep this damaging 'hobby' of yours anymore, neither you can contact that robot nor that crazy scientist woman who made her."

-"What?" Sheldon muttered, heart sinking as he felt completely helpless against the situation. Tears formed in his eyes and his voice trembled when he said: "you c-can't do this to me, this is not fair, this—" He suppressed a sob, suddenly feeling his chest tighten. The garage felt larger, even more foreign than before, and he needed to get out, to leave the house and go somewhere else before his overwhelming emotions spill out, but there he was, stuttering and babbling his disapproval that fell on deaf ears. "This is n-not n- necessary, I am not crazy, I—"

There were too many hands robbing him of control over his own life, and he merely stood there, witnessing it happen as if tied with invisible ropes on broken hands and silenced with the rags of his own failures that muffled his breathing, suffocating him.

He felt hands on his shoulders shaking him, and he looked at his father, who stared at him with an impatient, irritated expression as he yelled: "hey, snap out of it!"

Sheldon aggressively pushed the hands away and took a couple of steps back, still breathing heavily and blinking back tears of frustration and heartbreak.

-"Crying, again?" Gerald scoffed. "Are you going to throw another tantrum over this!?"

-"Another?" he echoed, but immediately realized the word 'tantrum' referred to the panicked state he had earlier, and he felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and shame. "I don't know what came over me back there."

-"Okay." He walked closer and yet again placed an unwelcome hand on his son's bony shoulder, but this time the hold was tight enough to hurt. "How about you stop crying and man up for a change?"

-"Huh!?"

-"You heard me. Stop acting like a little girl and man the fuck up!"

Sheldon stared at his father with a stunned expression. It hurt to be looked at with that disappointed, angry stare. It hurt being belittled for emotions he had no control over. It hurt being this weak and helpless while someone else took his life decisions for him. The words spoken to him had the opposite desired effect, but he wasn't going to stand there and let himself be judged again. Thus, he dashed out, ran upstairs, and instead of heading into his now unwelcoming room, he locked himself in the bathroom and pressed his back against the door.

Facing the door, there was a sink, and on top of it, there was a mirror. In it stood a perturbed-looking boy, who hardly held back his tears of frustration and defeat. He aggressively wiped them away with a bandaged hand before sitting down on the cold floor, palm pressed into his forehead as he tried to steady his emotions, but the hurtful words kept ringing in his ears. Words that questioned his intelligence, actions, choices, and sanity. Why did he suddenly have to defend his sanity for loving the one person who cared about him? Why, after everything they had been through and all the challenges they faced, did he have to be forcefully separated from her? Why was he robbed of the last few things that made him happy?

He took a shaky breath, his chest aching with overwhelming emotions he couldn't control as he slowly realized he had just been left with nothing but defeat because he wasn't tough enough to stand up for himself. He thought things were changing for the better, and that he was someone who could be considered useful, a hero, but he was no hero. He was just a liability who needed to rely on others' help, and it made him feel like he was losing control over his life.

He knew how to restore that feeling of control, however, if not over his life or emotions, then over his own body.

He eyed the razors resting on top of the sink.

A loud knock on the door startled him, but he chose to ignore it when he heard his father's muffled voice.

-"Hey, Sheldon, are you there? Open the door."

He stayed frozen in his place, eyes dry, eyebrows lowered in a silent expression of hate that barely reflected the almost physically painful emotions raging in his chest.

The knocks continued, loud, demanding, and he pressed his palms to his ears to muffle the sound. After a while, he heard him say: "alright, I'll give you time to cool down."

Muffled footsteps grew farther away, and when they got replaced by pure silence, Sheldon stood up and took the razor, then he sat down on the floor again, leaning against the toilet seat, and broke the razor open so the blades would fall off.

Tears burned his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall because he hated how easy it was for him to cry, and how easy for his thoughts to overwhelm him, but he was about to shut them down.

He rolled his sleeve until the skin above the cast was exposed, then, with his thumb, ring, and pinky fingers, he picked a razor blade, and, without hesitation, he sank the sharp edge deep into his skin and dragged it along to draw angry red lines that soon overflowed with blood.

He winced, but the sharp pain dulled the anger in him with each cut he made until he felt calm enough to think rationally. He had less than a year left before he become legally an adult, then he would be free to do whatever he wanted, but until then, he would have to bear the mistreatment and bottle up his feelings.

The last cut he made hurt more than the rest, so he stopped, the blade falling with a dull clang next to the droplets of red. His gaze was unfocused as he stared at the nothingness in front of him, thoughts as silent as his surroundings, emotions as numb as his right hand, and mind as tired as his abused body.

He felt empty, but in control, so it was better than before. He rested his head on the cool wall behind him, only wanting to sleep and never wake up. Why couldn't that ten days coma just last forever?

While giggling and chatting, Jenny and Melody entered the house, each holding shopping bags in their hands. It was almost sunset, and they had spent a memorable day exploring stores and trying new things.

Just as they stepped into the hallway, they spotted Ms. Wakeman, appearing to have just gotten home as well. She glanced at them and commented: "you two seem like you had a nice day." She then lowered her glasses, checking the large varsity Jacket Jenny wore that was clearly bought from the men's section. "And why are you wearing clothes, XJ-9?"

-"Agh, Mom," she whined, rolling her eyes. "Everyone wears clothes, duh!"

-"I guess that's true," Ms. Wakeman responded, almost uncharacteristically uncaring about her teenage daughter's odd choices. She walked to the kitchen and turned the coffee machine on. "I had a long day," she mumbled, idly watching the coffee brew. "I was called to the police station to present a testimony about… what happened, and then I met those FBI agents again, and… are you listening!?"

Jenny and Melody, who were opening their shopping bags and taking the contents out, froze. They then faced her and smiled innocently, nodding.

-"As I was saying, they wanted 'results' about my search for Misty. Though they said she shows up randomly in jail to flip Dr. Locus off." She chuckled lightly, picking up the coffee mug and inhaling deeply into the aromatic smell. She closed her eyes, enjoying it. "They also want me to conduct research on the technology Vexus uses to teleport." She then opened her eyes, but Jenny had already disappeared, leaving only Melody listening, disinterested, but respectful.

Jenny lay on her stomach. The bed sheets felt soft under her shell and the jacket comfortable and cozy on her shoulders. She swung her feet idly in the air, a phone pressed to her auditory unit as she waited for it to pick up.

On the second ring came the answer.

-"Hello?"

-"Hi Sheldon, how was your day?" she asked in a cheerful tone that contrasted his drained one.

-"Good, I guess," he responded, then fell silent before adding: "how was yours?"

-"Great! I wanna tell you all about it. Can we meet up?" she suggested, twirling the phone's cord with her pinky. "I'll come pick you up… or maybe we can just stay in your house."

-"Oh… I… Uhm, I'm sorry, I can't. I'm really tired."

Jenny had to check if her auditory system was working properly. Troubleshooting software proved no problems, so either Sheldon had just refused to hang out with her or she was transported into an alternative universe with everything working backward.

-"Are you okay?"

-"I am! Thanks for asking," he answered cheerfully, chuckling. "I really am just tired."

Jenny squinted her eyes suspiciously, even though he couldn't see her. "Are you sure? We can just—"

-"I am sure. I'll see you tomorrow at school and you can tell me whatever you want, but I am tired now, and… you know what the doctors said, I need plenty of rest for my body to fully heal!" he babbled, then the sound of his laughter followed. It sounded forced.

-"Sheldon, please—"

-"Bye Jen, I love you."

The line beeped after he abruptly ended the call, and Jenny was left wondering what had just happened. Something was clearly wrong with her friend, and she felt determined to find it because she swore she wouldn't let anything hurt him again. Suddenly, Brad's words ringed in her mind again, forcing dread to settle in her mechanic heart.

No, Sheldon was alright. He promised he wouldn't lie to her, and she trusted him. She rested her head on the pillow, smiling to herself. She missed those random love confessions he used to make, and she wished she could say it back to him.

Soon, she told herself.

Notes: Yep, this chapter was emotionally exhausting to write, ngl. God help be guided to the non-angsty track soon.

Please let me know what you think :)

P.S: I actually drew art for this fic, specifically for a scene in this chapter, but I can't really post it on FFN so if you folks here wanna see it, head to my ao3, posted there under the same username, same fic, same chapter.