As always, the disclaimers are located in the author's notes in the opening.

-- Equivocation --

Chang really wanted to think that things were getting better.

Over the past few days, Britain had started showing marked signs of improvement, at least in terms of attitude. While the shapeshifter was still keeping mostly to himself, spending hours alone in his room or wherever his other hideaways on the Dolphin were, Chang couldn't keep from noticing how much more cheerful he seemed whenever he did see him.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Chang thought he was starting to see a bit more of him as well. At the very least, G.B. wasn't acting so flighty… like it hurt just to be in the same room as any of the others. He'd stopped flinching at the sound of his name, or shying away when someone so much as glanced in his direction.

It was a more than welcome change -- anything was better than the way he'd been acting before, with the self-imposed isolation and guilty silence. Just having the Englishman smiling again felt like a victory, a sure sign he was finally starting to recover from his ordeal.

Chang wanted to believe it was so, but…

It wasn't that he didn't trust G.B.… not exactly. And it wasn't like he wasn't thrilled to have his close friend acting more like his old self.

It was just…

"…006? Hey, earth to 006!"

Britain was looking at him from across the table -- smiling at him, looking vaguely amused. Chang blinked, belatedly realizing the casual conversation surrounding him had come to a stop. He frantically cast about the bits and pieces that he remembered hearing, hoping in vain to find some hint of how to respond; before he could finish Britain was addressing him again.

"You feeling alright there, 006?" A hint of gentle humor gleamed in his eyes as he added, "You seemed kind of out of it there for a minute…"

"Oh… yes, I'm fine," and Chang returned the Englishman's smile with a nod and a quick grin of his own. Turning to face who he thought -- and hoped -- had spoken last, he prompted, "Now, what were you saying, Francoise…?"

"Ah…" Francoise blinked, once, giving Chang just enough time to silently wonder whether he'd guessed wrong before her curious expression softened into a more comforting one. "Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted me to take some dinner to Doctor Gilmore, since he's been busy and…"

"Oh… oh, that's okay, Francoise! I was going to make something different for him anyway, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Alright…"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Joe piped up, turning to the eighth cyborg. "Pyunma, after we're finished, would you mind sparring with me for a little while? I wanted to get some practice in, and…"

"Sure, I don't mind…"

Chang breathed a mental sigh of relief at the change in subject. It would have been more than just a little awkward to try explaining why he hadn't been paying attention to the others. With the conversation safely drifting to other topics, he found himself looking back at Britain again, trying to work through his reservations.

The shapeshifter didn't appear to notice the scrutiny: sitting back in his seat, he listened to the conversation while casually finishing his meal. He made no move to join the friendly banter; merely looking on with a faintly bemused smile while the others talked.

…Maybe that shouldn't have bothered Chang as much as it did. After all, it wasn't right to expect Britain to be totally back to normal by now, was it…? Not after everything that happened…

But he was recovering, gradually, on his own… …So why couldn't Chang just accept that and move on as well…?

Try as he might, however, the sixth cyborg couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Britain wasn't really coping as well as he wanted his friends to think.

True, he seemed more open and cheerful than before… but… despite the smiles and casual demeanor, he still wasn't really talking to anyone. Any attempt to discuss what had happened was met with the response that he was 'fine', what was done was done, and they didn't have to worry about that anymore.

…Which really wasn't all that far removed from how he reacted before… save for the fact the shapeshifter smiled as he said it.

Somehow, Chang couldn't think of that as progress.

He wasn't quite sure how to make that clear to Britain just yet. Much as he wanted to pull him aside and point out the fallacies in how he acted, Chang didn't know how to reach his friend. He'd tried approaching the issue before, only to get shut down each time by the same quiet insistence that he was really okay now, thank you very much for caring.

Try as he might, he couldn't make G.B. listen.

The others were finishing up; Joe was the first to rise, taking his plate and silverware over to the kitchen and putting it in the sink. Reentering the dining room, he went to stand by the door, waiting for Pyunma to finish.

Chang briefly debated asking the ninth cyborg to wait for him to get a plate ready to take to Jet. He decided against it at length, primarily due to the fact that he knew the second cyborg would probably reject the gesture. Besides, it wasn't like he wouldn't be coming in later to get something to eat on his own… again.

Francoise got up just before Pyunma did: the eighth cyborg quietly offered to put everything away for her, and was thanked with a grateful smile before the lithe blonde picked up Ivan's bassinet and headed for the door. Pyunma left with Joe a few minutes later, both boys bidding the rest a cursory farewell before heading for their sparring session.

Across from him, Britain was quietly clearing his place, taking everything over to be washed. Chang dropped his gaze to the table, picking aimlessly at the few scraps remaining on his own plate before giving up entirely and getting up, heading for the kitchen.

"I'll get it," he offered, waving Britain away from the sink.

"Sure you don't want any help?"

"No, no, that's okay." Chang hoped his smile didn't look as brittle as it felt; judging from the mild concern on Britain's face as he blinked at the chef, it was.

"006…"

"I've got it, don't worry."

Britain blinked, then shrugged it off and turned to leave. Chang stared steadfastly into the sink; he didn't have to see his friend's face to know that same reassuring smile was back in place. At that moment, he didn't particularly want to see it.

"I'll see you later then, 006…"

The door to the kitchen closed, as Chang made a valiant effort not to choke on the lump forming in his throat. The others would be coming in shortly as they finished their meals, assuming nobody decided to check on him before then. Considering how close-knit their little family was, he wasn't about to bet against it.

Britain was getting better. Britain had to be getting better. He was acting like he was getting better, but… Chang simply wasn't able to believe he was okay.

It almost didn't matter how much nicer G.B. was acting now, because it seemed like the only thing that had really changed was how much effort the shapeshifter was putting into pretending he was fine.

…Like it was somehow more important to make them think he was recovering even when he wasn't. Like shutting them out with a smile made it alright.

His hands were shaking so badly that he nearly dropped a plate, just barely managing to catch it before it hit the floor. Setting it back into the sink, Chang braced himself against the counter while trying to calm down. Getting upset wouldn't help solve this mess.

…Too bad he was having a hard time coming up with anything that would.

Back in the dining room, Albert watched Britain walk away before frowning down at the table. After a few minutes, he stood, gathered his silverware together, and started towards the kitchen.

He wasn't entirely surprised when a hand closed over his shoulder. Instead of looking back, the silver-haired German kept staring straight ahead.

"Let me take this for you."

Heinrich nodded shortly, still very deliberately not looking at Geronimo even as he gently took his plate away. The taller cyborg headed into the kitchen; Albert didn't follow, but didn't immediately move to leave, either. Instead, he waited until Geronimo reemerged before turning to the exit.

When he stepped out into the hall, Geronimo was directly behind him. The pair walked in silence for a while; it wasn't until they reached an intersection and one turned away that the other spoke.

"You're going to talk to him?"

The tone of voice made it sound less of a question and more of a prediction, without betraying what he thought of the action. Albert knew without looking that Geronimo's expression would fail to offer any clues. That didn't give him any reason to pause or reconsider his intentions.

"He's making a mistake," he replied, a bit more curtly than intended. "This isn't helping at all."

"…Maybe." Geronimo shook his head slowly. "But you have to realize that you can't just…"

"I can't just let him shut us out like this. It's ridiculous."

"I understand your concern, but…"

"But?" Albert spit the word out harshly, feeling his hands start to clench at his sides. Taking a few seconds to calm down, he continued, "Pretending he isn't bothered anymore won't make it go away. There's no point in lying."

"He seems to see a reason for it," came the gentle, almost maddeningly calm rejoinder. "He wants to believe it helps."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't."

"Patience, my friend. Forcing the issue too much may end up pushing him farther away."

Heinrich's only response to that was a grunt, as he turned and walked away from his partner. This time, Geronimo didn't follow.

It wasn't that Albert didn't recognize the reasoning behind the fifth cyborg's stance. There was a certain logic and reason to his argument, and from a purely objective standpoint he supposed it made a decent amount of sense. Geronimo was just as concerned about G.B. as the rest of them; he just saw how limited their options were.

When it came right down to it, nobody could make Britain come to terms with how he'd been abused. They couldn't force him to understand they didn't blame him for what Black Ghost had done.

That didn't mean he was anywhere near remotely comfortable with leaving matters the way they were now.

Maybe Britain didn't want his friends to worry about him… that didn't mean lying and claiming he was okay was going to help. Did he honestly think they wouldn't see through the act? Did he really think they'd just blindly accept his word, and ignore all the signs to the contrary?

Just because he couldn't make G.B. listen didn't mean Albert wasn't going to bother talking to him. Britain couldn't ignore the issue forever… or deal with it alone, no matter how much he wanted to.

He took his time making his way to Britain's room, mentally reviewing what he wanted to say and trying to puzzle out the most effective way to make his point clear. Considering how the shapeshifter had reacted last time, Albert really didn't want to let him distort what he was attempting to say.

Heinrich didn't think it was coincidental that this attitude change had come about shortly after their little confrontation a few days ago.

Abruptly remembering how Britain had left his book behind, Albert thought about going back and retrieving it first. That was a decent enough excuse to come talk to him… but he rejected that idea just as quickly as it came.

He didn't need any excuse for talking to his friend. That seemed… needlessly manipulative.

Coming to stand in front of the door, Heinrich hesitated, taking one last chance to calm his nerves. Going in angry wasn't about to help the situation.

It wasn't until he raised his hand to knock that he heard the muted thudding.

Confused, Albert blinked and attempted to place the sound. It was definitely coming from inside, but for the life of him the German had absolutely no clue what he was listening to. The thick walls of the Dolphin made it difficult to hear clearly, and while the dull pounding seemed to follow a certain rhythm, it wasn't one he recognized, or was any help in identifying the foreign sound.

As he hesitated, wondering, the thuds got progressively louder -- not coming any closer to where he stood, but rather more forceful. Then, abruptly, it ended with a sharp crack and a pained hiss, and that was enough to make Heinrich stop standing there and slide the door open.

The first thing he noticed was that Britain was crouching on the other side of the room, facing the wall, and didn't appear to notice how he had burst in. The way his back was turned made it difficult to see anything, but Albert was just barely able to see how his right arm was folded up against his chest. The sleeve was rolled up to the elbow, and he caught a glimpse of skin that was--

"G-G.B.!"

At the sound of his name, Britain jumped and whirled around, eyes nearly bulging out at the sight of Heinrich standing in the open door.

"Ah…004!" he stammered, recoiling -- still hiding his arm with the rest of his body even as he turned to face his unexpected visitor.

All thoughts of remaining calm and collected fled from Albert's mind when he noticed that. Eyes narrowing into steel slits, he crossed the floor, grabbed the stunned cyborg by the shoulder and spun him around to face him directly. Before Britain could react, he caught him by the wrist and raised it up, staring down intently at the trapped limb.

"…Ze… Zero-zero-four…" Britain risked at length, staring up at the German's inscrutable expression. "Er… Why……"

"What were you doing?"

Flinching at the frigid tone, Britain fought down the urge to start trembling and murmured, "I… was just trying to find something I… lost… and…"

Heinrich gritted his teeth, struggling to calm down before reacting to that.

(He's lying again,) his instincts screamed, causing a brief swell of outrage that he forced down with considerable effort.

It didn't help how he was glaring down at Britain's exposed forearm. Though he'd only glimpsed it momentarily, Heinrich was certain there'd been something off about the limb. It looked perfectly normal now, the skin pale and unmarked, but…

The expression Britain had on his face -- the desperately masked flash of pain in his widened brown eyes -- made Albert force the anger back down, though he couldn't keep it from hardening his voice when he trusted himself to speak again.

"What were you looking for?"

"…Ah… a book… I misplaced…"

(Another lie,) part of his mind raged, even as another piece immediately offered up the script he'd left behind days ago as an excuse. Albert wasn't sure whether Britain had thought of that, or if he was just scrambling to come up with something -- anything -- that sounded like it made sense.

"…G.B."

"…Er…" The shapeshifter's eyes darted to one side before he asked, "004, why were you… Is there something you wanted?"

(For you to stop lying, and just talk to me, for starters.)

Heinrich sorely wanted to say that, despite the nagging feeling that wouldn't help. Keeping under control was proving far harder than he'd expected, thanks in part to confusion over what he thought he'd just seen. He had to swallow back the impulse to start yelling, to demand what Britain was trying to hide and why his arm had looked…

Staring down at the offending arm, he belatedly realized just how tightly he was holding on. His fingers were digging into the shapeshifter's wrist, which had to sting, but… G.B. wasn't trying to loosen the grip at all. Instead of squirming or protesting the rough treatment, he simply gazed up at the fourth cyborg and waited.

The only reaction he'd shown was that initial burst of fear… which had been hastily hidden away, almost automatically, leaving him standing there waiting for Albert's reaction.

Heinrich suddenly felt sick.

Letting go of Britain's hand, he took a step back and regarded him silently, not really certain he was looking for. Once his arm was free, Britain let it drop back to his side. Almost involuntarily, his other hand moved to cover his wrist… only he stopped and gripped the side of his elbow instead.

"…004?" he ventured at length, all too reluctantly.

The German cyborg took a deep breath, expelling it in a sigh, still staring at the shapeshifter. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

"…G.B.… Stop. Just… stop."

"004?"

"You don't have to pretend you're okay. I'm not sure where you got that idea from, but… Look, we just want to make sure you're alright. Really alright, not just… acting like it to make us feel better."

That caused an involuntarily wince, Albert noticed, something the Englishman undoubtedly wished he could have hidden. Then, hesitantly, G.B. attempted to smile, looking more wistful than reassuring.

"Ah… I don't…"

Heinrich's hands clenched, and he turned away, grimacing. He knew what was coming, and didn't want to hear it.

"I told you to stop," and that came out far closer to a snarl than he would have liked.

"………"

…He couldn't stay there any longer. If he did, Heinrich was almost positive he'd wind up saying or doing something he'd seriously regret. He couldn't make Britain react the way he wanted, and he needed time to sort things out before trying again.

"G.B.… Please, stop doing this to yourself," he finally said, walking away. "You can't deal with this alone, and you don't have to…"

Britain didn't answer. He didn't try to stop Heinrich from leaving, or respond to what he'd said. The door shut behind the fourth cyborg, and even then he failed to react to his friend's parting words… unless one counted how his hand slowly slid down the length of his bare forearm, until he was squeezing his already sore wrist.