As always, the disclaimers are back in the first chapter.

~ * Apprehension * ~

Try as she may, Francoise simply could not shake the terrible feelings weighing down on her. The sensitive girl was nursing a dull headache, and she kept catching herself straining in unsuccessful attempts to pinpoint exactly what it was that kept her feeling so anxious.

It was impossible to concentrate, however, when there were so many other matters that needed attending to. She wanted to check in on Ivan shortly; she'd left Pyunma looking after the sleeping babe, but felt badly over the fact that she hadn't returned as soon as she'd promised when she first departed. Even she had to admit that it was a rather boring duty, when Ivan wasn't up and about, sometimes… although, if she remembered correctly, Pyunma had a book with him when she'd last seen him, and wasn't the type to easily anger either way.

…Especially if she explained why she'd been delayed…

That was another consideration: somebody had to fill the rest of their crew in on what had occurred. Jet likely wouldn't take it well if he believed he was the last to find out -- not that the hot-tempered redhead was likely to handle the news well either way. Oh, and Chang may not have found out yet, either… though she wasn't certain about that…

Her brisk pace down the corridor slowed, the blonde's aqua eyes drifting nearly closed as she recalled what she had overheard. Britain's whisper clearly had not been meant for any of his friends, yet her sharpened senses enabled her to catch the soft mumble and understand what he said, though she didn't quite comprehend the reasoning behind it.

('……Maybe… I don't want to be fixed…')

(G.B.… What did you mean by that…?)

Francoise knew, naturally, about how the Englishman had lost the ability to transform. Everyone on the Dolphin was aware of that development. So it wasn't a matter of her not understanding what needed to be 'fixed' in the first place.

What she couldn't comprehend was why he wouldn't want to have it repaired.

Francoise had never been overly fond of her cyborg abilities, though she'd adjusted over time as a matter of necessity. She was perfectly content with her life prior to her abduction, and initially viewed her modifications as a constant reminder of what she'd lost. She'd thought she'd never be able to cope with it; how could she, when she'd been remade into a weapon to suit that horrible organization's purposes?

Looking back, the extent of her complaints and self-pity seemed to border almost on selfishness to her. After all, she hadn't been transformed to the extent that poor Albert or Pyunma or any of the others had been changed… But at that time, it was extremely difficult for her to put anything in perspective the way that she was capable of now.

Yet some of the others had taken their more drastic transformations with far more grace than she had taken her heightened senses with.

Great Britain's entire body had been redesigned, reengineered around the concept of being able to change shape at the press of a button. But as far as Francoise or any of the others had seen, he hadn't gone through the sort of existential angst she'd submerged herself in. In fact, he seemed to enjoy experimenting with his new ability, especially after they'd escaped from Black Ghost, developing a surprising knack for quickly learning how to create and maintain new forms.

Only now, it seemed to have lost its charm for him.

Thanks to Black Ghost's latest plot, G.B. had lost more than just his ability to transform. He no longer accepted who he was, what he had become… and in dealing with that, he was doing more than pushing away the others.

He was rejecting himself.

…This couldn't continue. Of that much Francoise was certain. If Britain remained convinced that it was better for him not to have his powers restored… if he decided it was safer not to be repaired, regardless of the danger that placed him in…

(…If he thinks that… we'd be better off… without him able to…)

Her eyes, nearly closed, abruptly shot back open, and her bowed head snapped upward, a tiny gasp escaping her parted lips. A terrible possibility had just come into focus for the lass, and she felt foolish for not seeing it sooner.

(G.B.… you can't be thinking of…)

Thoughts whirling madly, Francoise broke into a brisk jog, trying to tame the maelstrom raging in her mind enough to pinpoint the scientist's location. She had to let Doctor Gilmore know about her suspicions…!

Dimly, she wished she could go to Britain directly, but wasn't certain what effect confronting the former actor would have. Would he deny it? Or, worse, confirm what she suspected and insist it was the only way to solve everything.

She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to know… if he had really changed his attitude so much that…

…Doctor Gilmore had to be informed. Surely there was something he could do to fix things…! There had to be a way to prevent what she was beginning to believe was a terribly real possibility from occurring…

~ * ~

Chang couldn't quite decide whether he was more upset or worried yet.

Contrary to how he felt right now, Chang was certainly not stupid. As soon as he opened the door to find an abandoned room he'd known G.B. had tricked him into leaving so that he could sneak out.

…He'd been tricked, not lied to. There was a subtle difference. Though it may have been an excuse to keep the chef occupied while he slipped away, Chang was certain his judgement was correct on other matters. Britain definitely hadn't been eating well lately, and probably was hungry, his other unfortunate actions aside.

Apparently, Britain just figured starvation was better than having his friends around.

Now that was a logic Chang couldn't follow at all, even if it did serve as a decent explanation for his old friend's behavior. At a time like this, wouldn't it be better to keep those you cared about closer, and let them help you through your problems…?

If he had been the one targeted… if Black Ghost had found a way to control Chang and make him turn his flames on the others… the portly cyborg knew he'd want to be assured that they forgave him for what he'd done while under Black Ghost's sway. He'd want to be a part of the team again… would do anything to make certain that nobody hated him for what happened…

(…If I thought… everyone hated me… I couldn't take it…)

That was why Chang was trying to work through his anger while he searched for his friend. Sure, he was upset that he'd been tricked -- who wouldn't be? He was only trying to help Britain come to terms with the incident, and yet here he was, having his kindness thrown back in his face and ignored.

But if he vented his anger at Britain, it wouldn't help matters at all. G.B. was already convinced enough that the others despised him, and that couldn't go on. Chang had to prove he was mistaken…

Still, all his convictions temporarily fled when he finally stumbled across the shapeshifter. Despite the fact that he was searching for Britain, the sudden ease with which he located him took Chang off guard: rounding a corner to find the Englishman standing there. Britain seemed completely unaware of his approach; he instead gazed silently out at the ocean, both hands resting lightly against the reinforced glass of the portal.

Apparently the former actor was off in his own little world at the moment… though whether or not it was a brighter or darker reality than their own couldn't be judged.

Despite himself, Chang's relief at seeing his friend doing just fine quickly sharpened into fury. If nothing was wrong, then why the deception in the first place?!

"G.B.!" he shouted, stomping forward and closing the small distance between them in the space of a few minutes. "You shouldn't be wandering around in your condition! Do you realize how worried I was when I found out you'd left! I'd thought…"

Then he trailed off, partly because Chang abruptly realized that he still didn't know exactly how to describe how he'd felt. Surprised, yes, of course, but also confused, furious, frightened, suspecting that… what? What was he afraid of…?

(…That he'd do something stupid. Like… oh, I don't know!)

More instrumental in causing his sudden silence, however, was the expression on Britain's face when he glanced away from the window and at the ranting chef. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and one corner of his mouth, which was otherwise set in a neutral line, twitched upward. Then his attention turned back to the watery depths outside, ignorant of how Chang stared at him.

Again, several conflicting emotions warred for dominance inside the stunned fire-breather: this time concern managing to override rage and alarm. Face scrunching up with the dread growing in the pit of his stomach, he tried starting over, pretending his earlier mini-tirade had never occurred.

"…Umm… Why did you leave like that? I told you I'd be back as soon I as could… When I found you weren't there anymore, I was worried…"

"Oh, please."

Chang blinked repeatedly, staring at Britain.

"Huh?" he asked intelligently.

Britain's hands, still pressed against the cool glass pane, were gradually tightening into fists, all color flooding out of the knuckles as they ground against the smooth, unyielding surface. Chang's attention, however, was focused on the Englishman's face, watching how his friend's features tightened, his eyes squeezing shut.

"…G.B., what's wro…"

"If you can't figure that out, then you're more of an idiot than I thought," snapped Britain, turning to skewer the shorter cyborg with a narrow glare. "The last thing I need is to have to listen to your whining. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want you around?"

"……" Chang's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out. Heat flooded across his face, and he struggled to find a voice to respond, or at least the words even if he couldn't get them out, but couldn't settle on anything.

Britain glared down his nose at the chef, lips curling slightly in derision.

"I don't need anyone's fake sympathy right now. Especially not yours. Understand?" His gaze shifted to the side, studying the space where the opposite wall met the floor with a cold intensity. Britain's voice dropped, the heat leaving his tone low and dead, as he repeated, "I don't need it… don't deserve it…"

He turned away, to exit the same direction that Chang had come from. Now that Britain wasn't pinning him down with his frigid stare, however, Chang found the will to move again, and made a clumsy grab for the shapeshifter's sleeve. Though he couldn't think too clearly through the torrent of emotions raging inside, the fire-breather was keenly aware that he couldn't allow his friend to walk away like this. If Britain was hurting so badly inside that he'd snap like that…

Somehow, his blind grab managed to brush against Britain's arm, and Chang instinctively tightened his hold, crushing the dark wool against the wrist hidden underneath.

"G.B., listen…"

But that was all he was able to choke out before Britain whirled around, yanking his arm out of Chang's grasp. If his eyes had been cold before, now they blazed with fury, and the manner in which he raised the hand he'd latched onto made it seem like he was about to strike the shorter cyborg.

However, that impression was no sooner made than Britain let it drop back to his side, seemingly preferring instead to glare down at the stunned Chang.

"…Don't ever try touching me again," he grated out between clenched teeth, before whirling on his heel and storming away, leaving the paralyzed chef behind.

Chang gaped silently, once again at a complete loss for words. The feeling flooded out of his legs, yet he remained standing as though rooted to the spot, staring at his departing friend's back.

(…I don't… understand… G.B., I… we only want to try and help… Why won't you let us…?)

~ * ~

"He WHAT?!"

In retrospect, Joe decided, it might have been better not to tell Jet about the entire nightmare episode with Britain -- at least, not until they got a little more closure with the whole mess.

Then again, Jet probably wouldn't have been too thrilled no matter when he found out about the incident. Still, faced with the flame-haired American's reaction, bronze eyes blazing with outrage, Joe considered too late the possibility of letting someone else break the news more gently to him.

Too late for that now, though. Now he was stuck on damage control.

"Jet, calm down," he tried soothing, raising and waving his hands lightly in front of him. "G.B.'s fine now, at least…"

The frankly disbelieving look Jet gave him informed Joe that the redhead didn't trust that lame little reassurance for a second.

Trying to infuse a little more confidence into his words, Joe amended, "Well, he seemed a lot calmer after he woke up… I think we just have to give him more time…"

"More time?" echoed Jet incredulously. "It's been two weeks! We're wasting time hiding and doing nothing while Black Ghost's out there looking for us! How long 'till he finds us, huh? Do you want to be caught while we're like this?!"

"Of course not! But…" Jet spun on his heel, and Joe reached out, blurting, "Hey, Jet…"

"007 needs to snap out of it," the spiky-haired cyborg growled lowly, tone carrying a bitter undercurrent. "I'm gonna talk some sense into him…"

"Hang on!" Joe caught the redhead by the shoulder. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Jet…" (Especially since you don't sound like you're in the mood for talking…)

"Why?!" He had Jet's attention again, but wasn't sure that he wanted it, thanks to the fire he glimpsed in the hawk's sharp copper eyes. "Anything's better than sitting around here waiting for nothing to happen…"

"Jet… Please, don't." Joe chewed the inside of his lip briefly, garnet-stone eyes shining underneath his thick brown bangs. "Really… I don't think that'll solve anything."

Jet glared at his leader for a long moment, face remaining in its furious cast even while he wavered internally. Truthfully, he knew forcing the issue most likely wouldn't have any sort of desirable outcome, but still… doing nothing, while G.B. continued to withdraw and the rest of the team struggled in this damnable state…

"…Damnit, where the hell is Pyunma?" he muttered under his breath at length, averting his eyes just slightly away from the pleading face before him. "He should have been here for training by now…"

Joe wasn't phased by the sudden shift in topics, recognizing that it wasn't as abrupt a change as it sounded. Stranded underwater in the Dolphin like this, sometimes training was a welcome way to burn off excess energy, to say nothing of the stress of remaining trapped on board.

"Probably still looking after Ivan," he supplied, along with an apologetic smile. "But, I wouldn't mind getting in a few rounds myself…"

"…Nah, I'll wait," Jet grumbled, shrugging Joe's hand free of his shoulder.

"Really, I don't mind…"

"It's not a good idea, Joe. Trust me."

The dark look he gave the brown-haired cyborg under the cover of his wild bangs probably should have been a clear signal for his companion to drop it. Joe did catch the expression on the other's face, in fact, and correctly interpreted it as a warning to back off.

However, he failed to heed it. After all, Jet wasn't the only one feeling tense because of recent events and being confined to the ship. Plus, considering how he was coming off his injuries, it was important he try to speed his recovery, right…?

"Jet, come on," he goaded, still smiling. "Why can't I partner with you at least until Pyunma gets here? I'm just as good a fighter as he is…"

"Are you sure about that?"

Joe flinched. "What…?"

Bronze irises flashed in the shadows cast by fiery locks. The stare Jet was fixing his leader with seemed to be growing more heated by the second. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, and he grated out each word in a hateful undertone.

"You nearly got yourself killed during the fight, just because you wouldn't raise a hand against 007. You practically let him tear you apart!"

"Ah… Well, what was I supposed to do?" Joe was amazed by the sudden venom leaking into his retort as he snapped, "It wasn't his fault, and…"

"I KNOW it wasn't his fault, but you think that stunt you pulled helped anything?!" Cutting off Joe before he could continue, Jet exploded, "I ran into him myself, you know that?! I would've dragged him back if I'd gotten half the chance, but he refused! And he said -- he told me…"

"…Told you what?" prompted Joe when the redhead abruptly fell silent, wincing as the copper eyes boring into him sharpened with pent-up frustration.

"…'Stay away. I don't want to hurt you.'" All the fury had drained from Jet's tone, leaving his voice low and deadly. "He couldn't control it, Joe. I saw his face when he hit me--"

For an instant, his thoughts flashed back to that moment in time -- the agony he'd glimpsed twisting the Englishman's face as he watched the hawk plummet from the sky with a hole in his leg. Jet gritted his teeth at the memory, reliving the realization he'd had then -- and the difficult decision he'd come to after reawakening and remembering the sight.

(Anything's better than that sort of slow torture… I couldn't let him suffer like that…)

Snarling, he whirled and drove his fist into the nearest target. He ignored how wide Joe's eyes went -- he could only see one of them anyway, thanks to his leader's distinctive hairstyle -- and ground his knuckles into the unyielding surface, wishing there was something more satisfying to turn his frustration against.

But, at the moment, the only target he had was the wall.

"…Jet…" Joe breathed at length.

"…009…" Jet glared over the slope of his arm at his astonished partner. "You didn't help anything with that little 'please come back' stunt of yours. All it probably did… was make it worse for 007…"

He turned suddenly, no longer able to take looking at the shell-shocked expression on the Japanese lad's face. All it did was increase his urge to find something to pound the crap out of. Holding his fists stiffly at his sides, Jet stalked off to do just that.

Gradually, Joe's gaze tracked down to the floor, his widened eyes eventually closing in a slow blink.

…Was Jet right…? …Had he really… hurt G.B. by staying there and making himself a target…?

"…I… didn't mean it…" he whispered to the empty room.

~ * ~

The only sounds in the chamber were the quiet rhythm of the sleeping Ivan's steady breathing and the rustle of paper whenever Pyunma turned to the next page in his book.

They were alone for now, although the aquatic expert was expecting Francoise to come and trade places with him any time now so that he could go keep his promised training session with Jet. He wasn't too annoyed by her prolonged absence, however, even if it meant that the short-tempered redhead would snap at him when he finally arrived.

After all, he didn't often get a lot of chances to get very far in his reading.

The fact that he'd chosen to pass the time in this manner wouldn't exactly surprise any of his colleagues, though they might have raised some eyebrows if they found out what the subject manner was. Who knew how they'd react if they learned their straight-laced, practical combat specialist was currently enjoying a good fantasy novel?

Not that Pyunma really cared how they'd react. He was just as entitled to free time as the rest of them were. It was nice to temporarily immerse himself in the trials and tribulations of some fictional world, fanciful places filled with colorful casts wielding swords and magic as commonly as their enemies did science and machinery.

It was as good a way as any to take his mind off the sort of problems they faced all the time. Other types of fiction, like sci-fi in particular, had a tendency to hit too close to home for his comfort.

He never completely tuned reality out, however; when the door slid open, he immediately looked up from his tone, slipping his bookmark into place.

To his mild surprise, however, it wasn't the female member of their crew standing on the other side. Rising to his feet and tucking his book in the crook of his arm, Pyunma crossed to meet his visitor at the door.

"G.B.? What are you doing here?" he queried.

"…I…" Britain stared shyly at the floor, reluctant to meet the dark-skinned cyborg's curious gaze. "…I wanted to try and start helping out again around the ship, and I thought…"

Pyunma immediately caught on, and nodded slightly, regarding the actor carefully. Since he couldn't transform anymore, it wasn't as if they could ask him to fight or anything… He probably wasn't too comfortable around Chang, since his shift in attitude made it near impossible for the two to interact the way they once had… There weren't really too many options available.

Still…

"What brought this on?" he questioned, resting his shoulder almost unconsciously against the doorframe.

"I…" Britain folded his hands together, rocking slightly from side to side as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. "…001 saved me, and I want… I wanted to try and repay the favor, even if I can't really do that much…"

Again Pyunma nodded, more to himself than to the man standing before him, but he didn't move aside just yet. There was a nagging at the back of his head, his instincts alerting him to the fact that something seemed… off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it yet…

"…Never mind…" Britain turned away shortly, despondent. "This was a stupid idea… I'm sorry…"

"…G.B.… wait."

The bald cyborg paused, but didn't move to look back at Pyunma. Instead he continued to stare at the ground, mumbling self-recriminations under his breath. The sight of his friend looking so downtrodden made Pyunma feel guilty: Why still he still get the feeling there was something he was missing…? After everything Britain had been through, to treat him like this…

"Look, G.B., I think…"

"Just forget about it, 008. I shouldn't have even brought it up… I'm sorry…"

"G.B.…"

"There you are, G.B.!"

Pyunma and Britain looked up to see Francoise jogging up to them. The pretty blonde gave both men a remorseful look when she reached them, though Pyunma got the impression she was apologizing for two very different reasons with the same expression.

"Doctor Gilmore says he's going to try and figure out what's wrong again," she offered by way of explanation, "and I'm going to see if I can't help out. Pyunma, I'm really sorry, but…"

"That's okay, Francoise," Pyunma shook his head at her unneeded repentance. "I don't mind at all. Whatever helps, right?"

She shot him a thankful look, then turned her full attention to the silent Britain.

"Come on," she prompted gently, reaching out to take his arm, "I'll take you there."

Before she could make contact, Britain jerked his arm away and stepped backward, just out of easy reach by either of his companions.

"Just lead the way," he mumbled, eyes downcast. "I can follow just fine, thank you."

"…Ah…" Francoise cast a pleading look toward Pyunma, but the aquatic expert shrugged, unable to help out in this situation. At length, she nodded hesitantly. "All… alright, then."

She turned and started off, glancing over her shoulder now and then as if to ensure that the shapeshifter was actually behind her. Britain did follow, trailing behind like a shadow of flesh and blood, though from the way his face was slightly averted it looked like he was watching the wall instead.

Pyunma shook his head slowly, wondering why his sense of trepidation hadn't quite faded -- or why he was having it in the first place. His book rested in his arm forgotten for the moment as he turned things over in his thoughts, trying to comprehend what bothered him so, yet he came up with nothing.