(Author's Note: Okay, so here we go. I hate to make another excuse but I must. Currently, I'm working on getting MS Word on this computer. I should have it later today, but when this chapter was written, I was using Wordpad. That being said, I beg your forgiveness for any spelling and/or grammatical errors that you find. Thank ye, all.)

That night, Paine lay awake in the quarters chaos had given to her. In his perceptive awy, he'd chosen wisely, for the room was dark, with only one window to display the rushing stars. The bed was comfortable enough, with a solid blue blanket to keep away the icy cold

The walls were bare, but not a sterlie silver, like the Rinoa had been. Like the hairof her owner, all of the StarSong's panels were soft, white and subdued. Paine was aware of all of this but she paid it no mind as she stared up at the grated ceiling, her arms over her chest.

She hadn't had any nightmares for a long time, in fact the past couple of months had been some of the most restful she'd had in a long time. She supposed that was because her mind had been so focused on other things. Things that were no longer an issue, nor even worth wasting any more mental or physical energy on.

Her teeth ground in agitation. She did not like this kind of mission, a kind of rabbit chase, a game of escape and evade. She wanted it to be over, to not have to look over her shoulder constantly. The dark side of her ind (or at least the darker side) whisperd 'Then what?'. She didn't want to go back to where she'd been, lost and wandering. She needed...a war, a fight, a purpose. How long had she been like that? Only validated by who she wanted to hurt, or keep from wanting to hurt her? Unwillingly, her mind rolled back to a time, another war. She had been near the center, yet not. That place belong to someone else.

What happened to that Paine?

She's still there, sleeping inside you.

So wakey wakey!

She couldn't remember if that was exactly how it'd gone and she knew she could always find out...she had the Spheres. But it didn't matter much, the point remained, unchanged.

That was different, she told herself. She had backup then, had others she knew she could depend on. At least, she'd thought so. Paine rolled over, as if to hide from the stabbing mental ache. Both times she'd been at peace like that, it was largely due to the fact she knew she wasn't alone.

That option wasn't open anymore. She had a galaxy o hunters and killers gunning for her and she coudln't be bothered with making sure someone wasn't in the way.

It was just a risk she couldn't afford to take.

Still...it left her alone in the darkness. Perhaps that's why Leon's behavior dug at her--she'd almost let him be someone she thought she could depend on. Won't do that again, she thought to heself, a reminding promise.

Vincent and chaos were good solid men, she knew, but chaos wasn't even from the same universe and Vincent had his own blackness to fight.

No, she was alone. A thin, sardonic smile crossed her lips.

Just the way I like it...

Conversely, Leon was sleeping just fine.Or at least, he was sleeping, although given the option, he probably would have preferred to regain consciousness. chaos had given him his own room as well, mainly because Leon had threatened to open a vital airlock if he was made to sleep in the Chapel again. His room was almost identical to Paine's although they were on opposite ends of the ship...a fact everyone was aware of, but no one commented on. Leon found it very patronizing, like parents separating two unruly children. Like he couldn't control himself. If there was one thing that Leon prided himself in, it was his unshakeable self control. On the other hand...he was glad she was elsewhere, far away. Of course, he wasn't thinking this right now, because all his mental functions were aimed towards the dream (nightmare?) setting his brain on fire..

Another world, another storm. He'd seen too many to pay this one much mind, even though he knew with absolute certainty that he was at the center. It was just one more storm. The wind howled at his ambivalence, whipping his shoulder length hair around his face, covering his eyes and scar, which began to throb. He reached up to feel it and found blood dripping from his gloved hand, sliding down his arm. He couldn't tell if it was his blood or not, but even more so, he found it didn't matter to him one way or another. He looked around again. He was aware that he was dreaming because the scenery kept shifting and morphing, one landscape into another. An island became a mountain which became a forest, which became a desert...But the storm never stopped raging. As far as he could tell, he was alone, although if he looked hard enough into the distance, he could almost swear that faces came out of the clouds, only to be blown away a moment later. The blood never stopped flowing down his arm, but since he couldn't tell where it was coming from, he made no effort to try and stop it. In a perverse way, he hoped it was his. He began to walk, with nowhere particular to go, just to move. The landscape changed yet again, this time throwing an imposing stone castle in his path. He approached it warily, as it the huge entrance would grow fangs and devour him. His face was now a beacon of pulsating pain, each time feeling like someone was thrusting a glass shard into his forehead, but he pushed these sensations out of his miind and focused on the architecture in front of him. The castle was so big, the top disappeared into the boiling clouds.

He heard something behind him, and spun to see what was attempting to sneak up, yet as his eyes scanned where he'd come from, he found nothing but...nothingness. Suddenly, the sound of sweet laughter wafted around his ears, and he spun again, even more startled. Again, the laugh cut through the rolling fog like a silver bolt, diffuse yet clear. Leon stopped looking for the voice, deciding that, as this was a dream, if he was suppose to find it, it could come to him.
"I'm getting really tired of getting jerked around," he muttered darkly. The laughter became louder, and he knew for sure that it was directed at him.

"No one pulls you but you, little soldier."

Leon closed his eyes and focused his mind. The voice had many layers, mainly sounding like a clear bell, a childlike innocence. But there were older, more mature voices laced in with it.

Look, I'm not really good with the whole hidden lesson thing, so if you're trying to tell me something, whoever you are, you might as well just come out with it."

More laughter, echoing all around him.

"Who said there had to be a lesson, little soldier? Perhaps you are trying too hard to find something...tell us...what are you expecting to learn?"

Leon clenched his jaw, his eyes still closed. The wind picked up even more speed, pounding in beat with the torment of his head, as it tried to push him over, to bend him before it. He held fast, legs apart to maximize balance, even though he knew it was his mental obstinance that kept him from tumbling to and fro.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. What do you want?"

"No fair, you're not playing right."

"I don't like playing."

"You used to."

Leon didn't know what she meant, so he went with the first answer that came to his head.

"Things change."

"We don't. We are always. What do you want?"

"What do you want from me!"

This time, the laughter was so loud, it was deafening, drowing out the wind's cry. He put his blood soaked hands over his ears to drown out the striking cacophany. His face now slick with blood, he gave an incoherent roar, a yell with no words, only the expression of pain, frustration and anger. He collapsed to his knees, all the air gone from his lungs, his muscles having lost all will to stay upright. He choked on his first breath, forcing himself to take another. Can't fight on your knees, he thought, the only coherent notion echoing in his mind. The storm had stopped, and all was still and quiet. His breathing still coming in short, shallow gasps, he opened his eyes and stared at his hands, all evidence of the gore that had been there not a few minutes previously, completely gone. Through gritted teeth, a breath between each word, he rasped out:

"What...do you...want...from...me?"

There was a quiet giggle, as the voice grew fainter and farther away.

"We want to watch you play. Play for us, little soldier."