The door slid open with a soft hiss, but Anne did not respond. Her gaze remained affixed on some point on the wall, not wavering an iota as he limped closer. Mark's cane thumped on the floor, and he made a point to amplify the sound a bit, just to drive home the fact that he knew now just who was responsible for it. But if she heard it, she gave no sign.

He crouched down by her, grimacing slightly as tight muscles in his thigh protested the motion. His knees popped as he shifted about by her. The cane was placed by his right knee, laid down in a sliding motion that created a grating sound.

And still she gave no indication that she was aware of his presence. He waved his hand in front of her face, trying to break her gaze, without result. He snapped his fingers a few times, then clapped his hands loudly, and still she stared.

He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Hello, Anne." Nothing. "Are you ok?" No response. "How are you feeling?" Still nothing. "I'm going to kill you, bitch, and enjoy the time it takes me." Same result.

He leaned back on his heels and looked at her. The bruises made it difficult to tell, but he thought she might be a little paler than usual. Her breathing was shallow and quick, barely moving her chest as she inhaled and exhaled. But aside from those clues, she looked entirely normal. Except for the unresponsiveness, she looked much like she did with a hangover, or after pulling an all-nighter at work.

The unresponsiveness, and… His eyes narrowed as he saw something, or thought he saw something… He reached out one hand to check, touching her lightly on one shoulder.

She responded to his touch, eyes snapping into focus, a small whimper forced from her throat before she realized who was in the room with her. Then she turned her whole body to the left, doing her best to bury herself in the corner. Mark pulled his hand back and balled it into a fist, rubbing his fingertips into his palm to erase the feel of her, but oddly pleased with what he had found out. She was shaking.

Barely shaking, to be sure. You could hardly see it, but even a soft touch and he could feel the skin of her body crawl.

"What's the matter?" he asked, aching to hear the sarcasm.

She stayed silent.

"You might as well talk. You can talk to me, or to some of our less… personable friends, but you will end up telling all before you die."

She stayed silent, the only indication that she had heard his words an obvious shiver that rolled over her.

"I know I have some personal question I'd like answered, like, why me? Why, out of all the people you could have chosen to lie to, to try to get close to, why did you choose me?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered into her knees, barely audible. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"You did a damn fine job of that in the desert. And you did more than just hurt Kevin; he's dead. You killed him, then waltzed into our lives and pretended like you were better than the murderer you are."

"I didn't mean to kill him."

"One shot. Straight through the heart. And you say that was an accident? There aren't many… humans… who can shoot that well at a moving target. And you expect me to believe that you couldn't hit what you were aiming at, and accidentally killed him instead?" Scorn dripped from his voice.

She sighed. "The truth is the truth, whether you believe it or not."

"The truth is you killed him! And crippled me, and then decided that you hadn't done enough to screw up our lives, and tried to make friends with his orphaned children and grieving mother. What sort of monster are you, to think that we would want anything to do with you? Even if you weren't a plant?"

"I'm sorry," she said a little louder. "I can't help being a plant. And I didn't mean to, I mean, I didn't set out to try to be a part of your lives. But how was I supposed to say no? I mean, Effie said that she knew this great guy, and then you took me over to meet your aunt, and then you were all so wonderful and I didn't want to say no, I can't get to know all of you, it's wrong, even if I could have figured out a way to. And no I didn't kill Kevin on purpose, but if I had it all to do over again I don't think I'd have done anything different because I was going to protect Ace and you guys attacked me and I don't know why I'm supposed to feel guilty because I didn't let you take her. But I do feel guilty, and I'm incredibly sorry and I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, or say now to make things better. It's not like I can bring him back to life, or fix your leg, or…" She stopped speaking and turned to look at him.

"Or?" he prompted, before seeing the calculating look in her eyes. "What?" He backed up a bit as she uncurled and stood up, sliding her back along the wall until she reached her feet. "What are you thinking?" He followed her gaze to the door. "You are still locked in here," he said as she staggered towards the opposite side of the room.

"I know," she said as she looked at the door panel. "I'm not planning on opening it. I want to keep it closed."

"What?" he asked, but was interrupted by the sound of her hitting and somehow puncturing the panel.

"There," she said, turning towards him, shaking her hand by her side. "Now you're stuck in here with me." Her expression was simple, the delivery of the statement matter of fact, but the sinister impression was ruined by her falling to her knees when she tried to take a step.