He crept silently through the darkness feeling his way through carefully. He could hear the cries of the entrapped "wards" echoing through the vents. A cold icy feeling trickled down his spine. He moved silently on his way sliding over the cold, smooth surface as a slight breeze blew past him. An intersection seemed to stare him in the face. He peered down the left way wincing in pain. His whole body ached as he made his way left through the pitch-black tunnel. Suddenly, a bright light beamed from below him. Peeking over, he saw the lights of many consoles, monitors, and temperature gauges blinking numbers and letters. The Main Control room.


A lone guard sat in a comfortable looking office chair sitting straight up. His back was parallel to the back of the chair, his eyes were fixated on the screen, and his hand was nervously twitching above a gun in his holster; it was easy to tell the man was nervous. Sweat drops crawled down his young face as he twittered.


He slid from the air vent to the floor below without a sound. Creeping slowly behind, he clutched his leg in agony. He stifled a cry and continued forward toward the guard. He wondered to himself if what he was going to do was right. He wondered why he was doing it at all. He just swallowed the lump in his throat and continued.


The guard's nervous nature caused him to look slowly behind him. His eyes grew wide as he saw a figure standing behind him in the shadows. The guard whipped around quickly holding his gun shakily in his hand. The figure in the shadows stopped, it's arms raised in an odd position.


"W-who's there?!" The guard demanded pointing the gun at the figure's chest. He kept his eyes focused on the figure as it lowered its arms slowly. The guard then shakily grabbed his flashlight and turned it on in the figure's "eyes".


The light shined brightly on the figure's blue watery skin and reflected right back at the guard. The figure's eyes were practically just dark patches of blue in his barley-defined face. His whole body was only slightly detailed by barely different shades of blues. Depths are hardly distinguished by slight curves in his small child body.


"An escapee!" The guard quickly grabbed for his walkie-talkie dropping the flashlight and still aiming the gun for the water boy's "heart". The small pistol shook in his sweaty hand. The boy shook his head sadly and finally spoke.


"That won't do you any good." He shyly whispered just barely loud enough for the guard to hear.


"O-oh really?" The man stuttered still fiddling with the small walkie-talkie.


"Afraid not. They'll never come to help you." The boy slowly slid over to the chair the guard was sitting in, a gun following him there. "They're too busy taking care of the problem upstairs." The boy poked the monitor screen, which displayed a picture of scores of agents rushing out to an unknown area. "They won't come."


The guard stopped in the horrible realization that the boy was right. The trouble upstairs would exceed the problems he was having at that moment. He dropped his walkie-talkie and it clattered to the linoleum floor below. He grabbed the gun with both hands and pointed it straight at the water kid's head.


"That's not going to help either." The boy said sadly reaching his hand behind him grabbing the office chair.


"I-it will sure make m-me feel better!" The guard got ready, pulling back on the trigger slightly.


"I'm sorry." The boy lifted the chair quickly over him and brought it down swiftly on top of the guard's head. The guard fell to the ground harshly, knocked out cold. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "I am really sorry."


* * * *


"Well I see you've come for our deal a little early." Lutwidge grinned evilly at the four Young Justice members surrounded by D.E.O agents. The room was packed with so many it would be impossible to take them all down. "Although I doubt that's what you really can here for."


WonderGirl growled angrily at the agents who stood ready with guns pointed directly at their heads. She stood back in a ready position in case anyone had an itchy trigger finger.


"I see one." Lutwidge smirked at Secret who was angrily glaring at Lutwidge. She stared straight into his cold, hate-filled green eyes. "But where's the other? Where's Subject 6AHSDD? She is part of our deal." He paced at the top of his platform like a cat. His beady eyes peering down on them as if they were nothing but cockroaches on a dirty kitchen floor. Biting her tongue for a few minutes, Arrowette spoke up.


"You can't have either of them! You can't keep on treating kids like this! What kind of a person are you?!"


"One with the cure to save your friend's life!" Lutwidge snapped back at her leaning on the rail. "I won't ask again, where is she?" A long silence followed that seemed to suffocate them as Lutwidge stared coldly. His icy stare cut them in half and he broke the silence and continued his threat. "What choice do you have? How many days does Robin have left?" The group winced but stood their ground strongly. "You don't have a choice. Hand them over and your leader will live."


Once again silence followed. Guards stood at their appointed posts pointing shaky weapons at their targets. They barley breathed starring at the poor teenagers back-to-back in the crowded room. The agents stood their ground without an air of shame as their index fingers pressed tightly against the trigger. One false move, one false answer…