Strife had locked herself in her room and was sprawled out across her bed.

"He's just like everyone else. No one understands!"

She was still crying from an hour ago when Drok'ti had roared at her, had scared her, had left her there alone. Everyone had left her alone. She should be used to it by now. Even her parents leave her alone all the time because they can't stand being around her. Can't accept her. She threw her pillow and then started punching her bed.

"He isn't my best friend anymore! I don't need him."

She flopped down again and screamed. Her tantrum subsided and she laid there not blinking and hardly breathing. Maybe she didn't mean that. No, he was still her best friend even if he was grumpy and didn't wear pants. She wasn't going to discriminate against him for his lacking apparel. She isn't the fashion police after all. Just another crazy person with a Yautja for a friend.

Her breathing slowed even more along with her heart. This is one of the things that only she could do. She was staring into that other realm where she always ended up when things in this one were going badly. She tried to find Drok'ti to see what he was doing. She pictured him laughing and telling his friends about the freak that had kept his knife from him for 5 months. Imagining that he was being a real butthead she was almost shocked when she saw the real state that he was in.

He was battling with himself. He wasn't happy, wasn't laughing, he was sad. She reached out to touch him but remembered that wasn't how it worked. She could see him, but she couldn't touch him or talk to him. She wanted to tell him that it was all right. Forgiveness was very much in her nature especially when it came to her friends.

Restlessness enveloped her. She slowly got onto her hands and knees and leapt off her bed and started walking towards the front door. She was going to go swing in the park. That always made her feel better.

The sun had gone down long ago and Strife was still sitting on the swing. She was humming the tune to her favorite anime and pondering how they made Cinnamon Toast Crunch taste so good. Suddenly a hand reached around her and covered her mouth. She was drug backwards off the swing kicking and flailing her arms. She bit down on the hand and swung her arm backwards. It connected with someone's throat and Strife started to run as fast as she could. She headed for the trees. She could climb trees better than anyone she knew.

She got to the tree and jumped up on the first branch and hoisted herself to the second one. She was almost to the top when she stopped and watched the man that had disturbed her run by. He was wearing a dark grey suit and a black tie. It was one of those FBI douche bags. She was pretty sure it hadn't been the same guy. She would have been able to sense him if it had been. She climbed down out of the tree and started to run back home. She ran past a tree and hands shot out and grabbed her. She didn't get away this time.

The blindfold was taken away from her eyes and she was looking straight at Mr. FBI douche bag. He smiled at her. She glared at him.

"Hello again Strife."

"Why do you guys always show up everywhere? You're like herpes."

His smile faded and he bent down until he was right in Strife's face.

"You're going to tell me where your friend is."

"I don't have any friends."

"What about the alien that was at your house?"

"Oh him, he's standing right behind you."

The guy swung around and Strife giggled. Agent Gein backhanded her and she stopped laughing.

"I'm being serious. I can make you disappear."

"Ok, sounds like a plan."

"What?"

"I wouldn't mind disappearing."

"You know what I meant by that? Right?"

"Yes, you would kill me and dump my body somewhere. It's all very clear to me. So let's get to it. Sounds like fun."

"You really are insane. I wouldn't just kill you outright. I would make sure that you suffered."

"I can take it."

He got in Strife's face again.

"No, I really don't think you could."

"Um. . .are you going to kiss me?"

"No."

'Then could you back off a little? You're invading my bubble."

He didn't move. He was trying to frighten Strife, but she wasn't frightened by malicious people. She didn't care if he killed her, she didn't care if he tortured her. All that mattered was him not knowing about Drok'ti. That was a secret she would take with her to her grave no matter if it was now or later. Mr. FBI douche bag stood up straight and adjusted his tie.

"If you really want to be like that, then I guess there is no changing that defective mind of yours."

"Maybe you should take a closer look at the situation before you tell me that I am the one with the defective mind. Douche bag."

Strife didn't know if it was her initial statement or the garnish she added to the end of it that caused him to do what he did next. He punched her hard enough in the face that it sent the chair she was tied to toppling over. She listened as the bones in her wrists and hands snapped under the combined weight of her and the chair. She let out a short pained shriek and immediately stopped herself. She would have time to scream later. Something new had her attention. Mr. FBI douche bag was standing over her and in one clenched first he held a small pocket knife. The pain in her head and wrists caused her to pass out for a moment.

The room exploded around her all of a sudden. There was so much panic in the air. She didn't know what was going on and she couldn't see a thing. She heard Mr. FBI douche bag scream in pain. The scream faded so Strife deducted that he had been flung across the room. She wanted to know what was going on. She was hearing so many things all at once. Then suddenly a very familiar noise but she was out again before the recollection came to her.