Murphy's fifth Law: Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.

Lyle reclined on Riley's bed, waiting for her to appear with Willie. His lunch date had gone well; the client was willing to pay a small fortune for the techniques Riley had undoubtedly come up with in the field of open heart surgery, he was a doctor who wanted his name to go down in the history books. Lyle had been looking at the highlighted segments in the book Riley had been reading, and the diagrams she had drawn. That doctor's name certainly would go down in history; it probably wouldn't be built upon for another hundred years. But while Riley's mind seemed to be working just as well as it always had, her behavior of late was becoming progressively worse. The minor infractions in her conduct had been slowly increasing for over two months now, and it was obvious to Lyle that she was getting bored. It wasn't unheard of; if Lyle was correct Jarod had gone through a similar period in his teen years. It wasn't good either.

He frowned in contemplation of Riley's behavior; she had disobeyed him three times today, and she flat out refused him when he had her do the empathy drill. She wasn't obedient any longer. She probably didn't even realize it, but with the effects that SIMing Jarod could have on her, Lyle couldn't afford these lapses in her behavior. SIMing Jarod in itself would probably give her more of a sense of ethics than Raines or he had ever wanted, and Lyle really wasn't sure what to do about that, after all, Jarod's conscience had inevitably been his reason to leave the Centre.

Riley was never intended to be a sociopath or a schizophrenic or even a murderer like many of Raines' other projects, but they had found early on when training her, that when a child is never told the meaning of right or wrong, they don't have definable boundaries for them. Riley knew certain things were wrong, but they weren't the sort of things like 'killing is wrong', or any other universal moral principle. Disobedience towards the Centre, was wrong in Riley's world. Disrespect towards a superior was wrong. These were the worst things she could do in her world. Killing was alright as long as no one told her that murder was bad. And she certainly wasn't going to hear that around this place.

He would have to discuss these lapses in her behavior with Raines this evening. If they were going to keep her under control, they were going to have to find a new way to go about it. Lyle groaned inwardly as he realized he was going to have to review the tape of her interaction with Sydney as well. There was simply no time for all of this mess; not as they were right about to enter into such a complicated pretend. He heard the beep signaling that the door would open in a matter of seconds and Lyle sat up from his reclining position. The door opened fully and Willie pushed the pretender into the room, nodding his head in Lyle's direction, before turning and leaving. Riley pushed herself up from the floor where she had fallen, oblivious to his presence in her room until her eyes rested on his shoes; she scrambled up hurriedly at the discovery and backed up a few paces, only stopping when she bumped into her desk. Lyle stood up and walked over to her, contemplating her for a moment. He backhanded her across the face and she flinched, bringing her hand up to her face where he could already see the blood rushing to her cheek. He pushed her down to sit at the desk chair she had been standing next to and knelt in front of her so they were looking at each other eye to eye.

He looked at her disappointedly, "Riley, can you tell me why I've been forced to punish you today?"

"I..." She always wanted to please him so badly. Hesitating now, it was less a matter of not knowing and more a matter of wondering what he wanted her to say.

"Think back to this morning when you first woke up." He prompted, voicing more his disappointment than anger.

"I let my emotions control me, I was startled, and I got scared." She admitted quietly. Lyle sometimes thought that admitting her infractions was almost more of a punishment for Riley than any sort of physicality—admitting that she had done something wrong, admitting that she had let her handlers, let the Centre, down. This... whatever this really was... this punishment was really more of a dance they did for the cameras. Something Raines could watch and nod over, satisfied that his disciplinary program was working. Lyle allowed some of his anger into his voice, explaining to her what exactly she had done wrong. What she needed to avoid doing next time. Why she shouldn't do it again.

"Riley, Mr. Parker is the director of this company. He's my boss. He's my father, and you made me look like a fool in front of him."

Riley hung her head silently.

"But that isn't even all that you've done today Riley. Do you even realize how many times you've disobeyed us? How many times you've disobeyed me?" He asked, his tone cold and hard. Lyle knew that he could create an equal punishment simply by continuing to berate her in this tone of voice. Riley lived for approval- his approval.

"I'm sorry sir... it was an accident..." she sounded so pathetically lost. Like a dog that has been kicked and doesn't know why, still seeking approval from its master despite the mistreatment.

"An accident?" He continued incredulously, "Riley, you're supposed to have control over yourself! It can't have been an accident, you know the rules! It's not as though this is anything new!"

"I'm s-sorry." Passing frustration marred her face at the sound of the stutter, and she took a breath before resuming. "It won't happen again, Sir." She said, still in the direction of the floor. Though Lyle could almost detect a pleading note in her voice.

Real anger flared through Lyle at the comment and he yanked her to her feet and pushed her against the wall behind her. Her head cracked against the cinderblock loudly. "It already has happened again, Riley!" Lyle said heatedly. "I had to force you into a simulation today! I have never had to do that with you before! Now, I'd like to know just what was going through your head that made you think that you had the right to disobey me! You never disobey again, understand!" Lyle slammed her again into the wall and she sputtered for breath.

"What do you have to say Riley? Surely you have something to say in your defense?"

"I won't disobey you again sir." The girl mumbled, she stumbled to remain standing as he let her go, looking unstable on her feet.

"For your sake I hope you don't." He told her, grabbing her shirt and pulling her over to the bed, forcing her to sit down, she looked as though she would topple over any minute if she remained standing.

"If this is the sort of behavior that I can expect from you Riley, then you can expect a lot more of these types of encounters with me, which is something that neither of us wants, understand?"

She nodded silently. Studying her shoes with intense interest.

"Riley, answer me when I'm speaking to you!" he said, slapping her across the face once more.

The cut on her cheek opened up again, and she swiped at the trickle of blood trekking down her face. "Y-Yes sir, I-I understand."

Lyle stood up and grabbed a paper towel from the sink, wetting it down with cold water. He handed it to her as he exited the room. "You'll want to try to get that lip to stop bleeding." He said as he left the room, ordering the sweeper at the door to bring down a medic. He walked to his office, feeling as though he wanted to throw up. Somewhere along the line he felt he had taken a bit more than his adoptive father's name, and he didn't actually like it. Murder happened, torture accompanied it occasionally, but those cases were different. She was so dependent. So pathetic really, all she wanted was their approval, all she had ever wanted was their approval. She lived for it, that little pat on the head at the end of the day that signaled a job well done. Her ambitions lived only in the realm that she had been raised and Lyle occasionally wondered if she would be so nearsighted, such a dismal dreamer, had she been raised in the real world? If she had been raised in the Centre's hierarchy? Riley made no plans, they weren't hers to make, but if she did, he wondered what her design would be.

-

-

Cox injected the stimulant into the motionless teenager, checking her pulse and heart rate, and inspecting the various bruises and cuts adorning her face and arms. He was rewarded for his efforts as the pretender began to shy away from his ministrations in her sleep. She gasped audibly when he found the bruising area at the back of her head, attempting to sit up, alert once again.

"Welcome back to the world of the living." He said while pushing her back onto the cot, "Lie back down before you pass out again. You've got a bump on the back of your skull the size of a goose egg." Cox began inspecting it some more, careful to avoid causing the young girl any more discomfort.

Riley allowed herself to be pushed back down. The room was spinning and she couldn't focus on anything, her lip was throbbing where she assumed it had split. She vaguely recognized that someone was talking to her, but she couldn't make out the words. Her vision began clearing and she saw who it was that was attending to her.

"Mr. Cox?" Her voice was raspy and grated against her throat as she tried to talk.

"Hmmmm," The man mumbled his recognition that she was talking to him as he looked over the finger-shaped bruising around her upper arms.

"Could you repeat that a little slower, while the room stops spinning?" She asked, trying to laugh off her discomfort. Cox chuckled at the question, and merely continued in his assessment, but for his part he did slow down his speech.

"Well, nothing's broken, and your head is merely bruised, despite the fact that it probably feels as though it's been hit with a sludge hammer. Your lip will be fine if we get some ice on it," he said, handing her an ice pack from the bag next to him. Some idiot sweeper had nabbed Cox out of his office rather than getting an orderly, but it wasn't really keeping him from anything and he didn't particularly mind. He had an ample supply of medical knowledge and reasoned that it was probably better if the pretender woke up to a familiar face rather than an orderly whom she had never met before. So many changes like this to a person that had been kept in a regular routine all their life simply could not lead to good reactions. "Care to tell me how you got yourself into this mess?" he asked, genuinely interested. Riley, as far as he knew, was probably the least disappointing Centre project to date. Smart and obedient. What an idea!

The pretender shook her head as she sat up and leaned against the wall behind her, "I was being stupid. I just... I don't know, I couldn't get a grasp on things today."

"Well, we all have our bad days; hopefully you don't have many more soon." Cox indulged her. He stood up, packing away his equipment as he did. "Your SIM for this afternoon was canceled I believe, Mr. Lyle was able to sell his client those diagrams you drew, so I wouldn't worry about having too many other demands on your time. Concentrate on healing. And for God's sake, avoid these sorts of entanglements in the future."

"I didn't do anything on purpose." She protested, feeling around the back of her head, she winced in pain.

Cox took that in and started rummaging around in his bag. "I believe I may have something for that." He said, locating a bottle of Tylenol. If he were an orderly, he undoubtedly would have something a tad stronger, but that was the tradeoff he supposed. Cox took out two of the pills and handed them to her, but she would not take them.

"I-I shouldn't."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Oh? And why not?"

"B-because I deserve it. I mean-- It's my fault I'm in this mess, I ought to deal with the consequences. Shouldn't I?"

"I suppose so." Cox allowed, slipping the pills back into his pocket. Oh yes, intelligent, obedient, and self-recriminating. The Centre finally had done it right.

A light beeping came from the door and Cox intercepted the sweeper carrying the girl's lunch before he could enter the room. Cox maneuvered the man back out the door. He took the pills from his pocket and popped them open, dumping the powder out into the bowl the sweeper was still carrying. He motioned to the spoon on the tray next to it while he closed his medical bag. "Stir that up in there if you would; that girl is too dutiful for her own good."

The sweeper walked back into the cell and Cox followed, intending to ensure the girl did, in fact, eat. She had the most infuriating tendency not to.

Riley looked up as the door unlocked and a sweeper walked in carrying her food on a tray, and set it down at her desk before leaving again. She stood up, she was a little bit dizzy, but able to stand, and her head was clearing quickly. She walked over to the desk and looked down at the food with distaste. It wasn't the same sort she was used to. This looked far more soup-y than anything she had had before; a bit like creamed spinach floating in tomato-vegetable broth. She groaned aloud, "I ought to report that as a crime, 'cruelty to vegetables'." She said, trying to appeal to Mr. Cox's odd sense of humor. He didn't show it very often, but it came out every now and then.

Cox laughed lightly, "Well Riley, seeing as you haven't had anything else to eat today I suggest that you deal with it, your body needs nourishment and that's the only food you're going to get."

"Are all of the meals here like this?"

"They're all made by the same cook-- they're all like this."

"Ew."

Mr. Cox came over to look over her shoulder. "That is a surprisingly good description for only one word...come on now, it can't be that bad." He offered optimistically. "It's good for you."

"Salads are good for you. This looks like it's already been regurgitated by someone else. I'm being fed hand-me-down food." She said. Her head may have been clearing quickly, but she obviously still didn't have control over the barrier between her brain and her tongue, as that was hardly the epitome of respect.

"Riley." Mr. Cox's voice lost its friendly tone, "The whole reason why I had to come down here today was because you were disobedient and dealt with accordingly, I'd hate for you to waste my time by rushing to add disrespectful to the list."

Riley became suddenly very interested in her shoelaces, "Yes Sir. I-I apologize."

"Good, now eat what you're given and be thankful you've got it at all."

"Yes sir."

Cox left the room and its occupant, allowing an inward smile at the teenager's antics, 'cruelty to vegetables' indeed.

-

-

Riley collapsed back onto her bed; she had eaten the foul chef surprise without any further complaint and didn't feel like she could stand any longer, she wanted to sleep, it would help her body to heal itself faster, but she found that she couldn't because of the stimulant Mr. Cox had used to wake her up. She shouldn't be trying to sleep after hitting her head like that anyway, it was like inviting a coma. Inviting a coma even more than she already had that was, Riley rubbed the back of her head tenderly and wondered just when exactly she had passed out. She honestly couldn't remember the last time that she had found herself like this, on the receiving end of Mr. Lyle's displeasure—on the receiving end of anyone's displeasure. It didn't happen often. It hurt. Not the actual punishment so much... well yes, that did hurt of course, but differently... it was his disappointment that hurt. Her own shame at being unable to live up to their standards—unable to pay her debt. She owed the Centre, or its owners, everything she had. They had taken her in as a baby, they had raised her, and they had kept her safe. But she always ended up disappointing them at some point, and that hurt.

She sat up and inspected the room around her; the elevator ride down with Willie had placed it somewhere on sublevel 25, and the number alone nearly had her head spinning. The facility had been a small place, with only three or so working levels, and not nearly as many people. Riley had been, as far as she knew, the only permanent resident, and aside from her, the only people that worked there were a handful of technicians and security personnel. The Centre was very different from her old home, but Riley found it comforting to learn that some things would never change between the two buildings, and it seemed that the living accommodations were one of them.

Her room was nondescript, grey concrete walls, a bed, and a table that served as a desk. There were no drawers for her to place things out of sight, Riley knew that Mr. Lyle even read her journal entries; it was one reason why she did not make them anymore.A book shelf sat in the far corner, clear for now, but she would soon remedy that. If Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines indulged her in nothing else, they had never stopped her from reading. Mr. Raines even went so far as to give her books from his library at home. When she was younger he had given her a medical text, only to find that she had updated almost all of the procedures in the book as well as created some new ones by the very next day. She thought that was probably the only time she had ever managed to truly satisfy the man in her entire life.

Riley didn't recognize anything from her old room, and she didn't miss most of it. To tell the truth, she didn't really have much to miss, however there was a text on criminal psychology that she adored, and she hoped she could convince someone to retrieve it from her room at the Facility. Her eyes continued scanning the room, a small bathroom area was set off to the side, a camera rested above it leaving the area below in a blind spot, and finally there was a box on the wall that allowed Them to speak to her, she just wished that it wasn't only one way. However, despite the room's physical similarities to her old home, it simply exuded a sense of detachment. It was lonely. She felt as though she had been hidden away, out of site, buried even. Her old room had been so close to everything else, and this place just wasn't.

She found the vent quickly, but shuddered at the thought of using it to explore now. She had already gotten herself into enough trouble as it was. She stared at the grating, watching the dust motes buffet about in the air around it. She got so lost in her thoughts, her eyes staring at the vent, that until sometime later she didn't even realize the vent was staring back. She scrambled back into the corner where her wall and her bed met, staring at it with wide eyes. Her thoughts from earlier came back to her with a jolt.

Human.

The vent was pried lose from the inside and she watched as a young man stepped out. He looked to be Mr. Lyle's age, but he was as far from looking like Mr. Lyle as she was from looking like Mr. Raines; he had light colored hair, with a strangely reddish hue, and blue eyes that sparked with intelligence. His face was pock-marked and scarred, with bushy eyebrows presiding over a thin nose. He had a confident half-smile on his face, and without warning he loped to her bedside. Riley was truly uneasy by now, not only had this man, this unknown man, broken into her room, but he was staring at her. He reached out and grabbed her hand, smiling like an insane person.

"Not hurt...like Angelo... not hurt."

"Let go of me!" She yanked her hand back, startled by the touch; the only time any person touched her was to punish her. She was tense and not calmed in the slightest when he only proceeded to move closer to her.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are..."

"Angelo."

"But you had better get out of my room right now. I mean it, hey stop that, what are you doing? Cut it out!" Angelo was fingering her split lip, muttering about something to himself, and she was already too far backed into a corner to try pulling away further.

"What are you doing? Who are you and why are you in my room?"

"Yes Angelo, inquiring minds want to know; what are you doing in Riley's room?" Riley heard Mr. Lyle as he entered the doorway, flanked by Mr. Raines. Her confused mind hadn't registered the faint beep that preceded the door opening and she was a little startled by their sudden appearance.

"Mr. Lyle, Mr. Raines, I-I honestly don't know how he got in here, I mean- well I do, he came through the vent, b-but I didn't have anything to do with it! I-I swear! He just appeared." She said while scrambling to her feet, attempting to steer clear of Mr. Lyle's wrath.

"Don't worry Riley..." Mr. Raines wheezed, "Angelo... has a problem... with staying in his own space." Mr. Raines was glaring at Angelo, who for his part looked like he wanted desperately to disappear back to his 'own space'.

"Who is he?" Riley asked hesitantly, hoping he might indulge her in an answer.

"He's an empath, Riley." Mr. Lyle spoke up.

"Like me?" her thoughts centered on his words from earlier.

Like Angelo.

"After a fashion." His answer was vague, but better than nothing.

"Why doesn't he talk? He's acting strangely." She persisted, Mr. Lyle had already answered her other two questions, it could be a sign that he was feeling talkative.

"Angelo... is the result of an experiment... whose results were less than...adequate." Mr. Raines told her, while signaling down the hallway at a sweeper on duty.

Less than adequate?

Riley stared down at her feet; she could only imagine what might have gone wrong that would cause the fully grown man to act like this. She obviously wasn't hurt... but he was. That's what he must have meant by 'not hurt'- she wasn't like him. The sweeper showed up at the door and looked to Mr. Raines inquiringly.

"Take Angelo back to his space...And ensure that he remains there..."

The burly man grabbed Angelo roughly by the arm, and dragged him from the room. Angelo seemed oblivious to the treatment though, and shuffled along beside him, looking at the ground and muttering to himself.

Lyle grabbed Riley's chin, looking at his handiwork that was adorning the young girl's cheek. It had scabbed over, and looked like it would leave a scar. Funny, it took the attention away from the mole just above it. Fine with him; he didn't like being reminded of Jarod every time he came to work. Riley managed to restrain herself for longer than two seconds, but finally pulled back from the touch on instinct and he allowed her to shy away from his grasp, noticing as she did that she was no longer wearing the small pendant which typically adorned her neck. It was a gift from her old mentor that she had been incredibly reluctant to part with.

"Decided to finally forget the past?" he indicated her neck, smirking slightly at how much the Centre was already beginning to change her. Riley's hand flew to her throat, searching blindly for the long time source of comfort that she typically wore at all times.

"Uh oh." she whispered under her breath, neither of the men heard her.

She took a step unconsciously towards the door before she checked herself, intending to ask permission to go get the necklace from Angelo. That thief had stolen it!

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Lyle gave her an incredulous look, confused by her sudden movement.

"N-Nowhere...I mean..." Riley hesitated before asking. "Sir, he stole my necklace, may I have per-permission to get it back?" Riley already thought she knew the answer would be no. Mr. Lyle had never agreed with how much Riley took after Sarah. But she still had to ask.

"Riley, I don't think that's a good idea. It's about time that you stopped living in the past. That's part of the reason why you're here; your new life is at the Centre. You are the property of the Centre, you always have been, and it's time you came to terms with that."

"But Sir, Sarah gave me that! It's important to me! Please..."

Mr. Lyle grabbed her and shook her, "Don't argue Riley! This is your life now, forget the Facility, forget Sarah, you no longer belong there, you belong to the Centre, you are the property of the Centre, as such you are going to work for the Centre, and you will obey me! Do you understand!"

Riley blinked back the pricking sensation behind her eyes. Her times with Sarah when she was a child had been some of the best she had ever had. She didn't want to lose them. She hung her head resignedly; she had to follow orders. "Yes, Sir."

"I don't want to hear you ever talk about Sarah or the Facility again. I hear anything relating to them again and you will be punished, and when you wake up that time you're going to find yourself in renewal, do I make myself clear?"

Riley felt her breath hitch at the mention of the Renewal Wing. "Y-Yes Sir."

"Good." Mr. Lyle left her room, Mr. Raines following like a squeaky shadow.

Riley collapsed back onto her bed, wishing she could cry. But no! That was against the rules too. Even if it wasn't she wouldn't allow herself to; crying was weakness, she wasn't weak. But she still wished that she could. She turned over onto her stomach in the bed, hiding her face in her pillow and fighting to stop herself from sobbing. She fought to keep her breathing regular and easy, if anyone was watching from the surveillance room, she wanted it to look like she had just fallen asleep, even if it wasn't really the truth.

Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you...