AN: So, I really don't know what I'm doing with the first and third person writing. Sometimes I feel like it works, sometimes I don't. In my head, I feel like it will work better, but when I'm writing it always comes out first-person and it seems to flow. It is subject to change and I'll note it above the story to let you know.

AN2: I will be going back to revise and edit past chapters. I did notice my abbrev. for 'Commander' went from CDR. to COMM. at times. I don't know why I did that, but I'll be fixing that along with format. The chapter and set up is different and that's also bothering me. Oh, and my subject-verb tense is GOD AWFUL, I know. My eye doesn't catch things like that, but it shouldn't distort the story in any way.

AN3: I am heading over to AO3 as well, but will still post on here.

See ya!

She's Worth Defending

Chapter 4: Torn

T/M - Violence and detailed gore.

What…happened?

Where am I?

It's so…cold.

I opened my eyes to see the ceiling of a place that I wasn't familiar with.

I let out a small grunt as I managed to sit up and prop myself up by my hands.

I looked both ways since there was nothing in front of me, nor was there anything behind me; I was sitting horizontally in a dark, underground tunnel. The hallway was unbearably narrow and had chiseled bricks that held up its walls. Large pipes hung loosely from it and occasional belched out a gust of hot steam.

I got to my feet, only to spin around a couple times. This place was eerie and I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched.

"Hello?"

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of the pipes clanking about.

When finally summoning up enough courage to move, I slowly began to walk. With every noise of the pipes, I jumped.

As I was walking, I heard a mellow, solitary 'thud' that sounded deep within the hallway. Except, it wasn't from in front of me; it came from behind me.

I quickly turned around and peered into the darkness. Knowing me, I would probably see something that wasn't really there if I looked too hard.

"Hello?" I asked again.

Nothing.

I peered harder into the dark, narrow hallway.

Nothing.

With a small, relieved sigh, I turned back around, but jolted myself back when I was met by a blonde-haired, blue-eyed male.

He just stood there. He had no expression and wasn't even shocked or frightened when I nearly screamed in his face. No, there was something wrong. His eyes were cold and he just stood there with his hands at his sides. After gaining my composure, I decided to break the silence.

"Hello…" I said cautiously.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" I slowly stepped closer to the man. "Are you hurt?"

Nothing. He didn't say anything. The only thing that moved were his eyes when I attempted to get closer to him. He barely looked like he was all there.

"You know, you shouldn't be down here…" I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, but was then forcefully pressed up against the wall by my throat.

I didn't know what do; I didn't know how to react. I only looked at the man's face while I was pinned up against the old, crumbling wall. He squeezed tighter.

I couldn't see his face.

"You did this." He bellowed at me.

"W-what?" I struggled to answer, but managed to choke it out.

"You did this!" The man yelled.

My attacker let go and threw me to the side, where I landed on my back, but I quickly scurried back up to my feet.

He turned to me. I could see more of him now; the vents on the ceiling, which were all separated by, at least, a couple yards, cast spears of light on half of his face.

I just stood there, hands up in submission as if I encountered a wild beast.

"Whatever I did to you, I'm sorry." I slowly started to back up, still keeping my hands up while I tried to negotiate, and apparently, apologize. I didn't know what for. I didn't know this man!

"There's nothing you can do now." He started to walk towards me. For every step forward he made, I took a step backwards. His sentence was drawn out and he almost moved like he was a zombie; slow, unbalanced, and dazed. He still kept his eyes on me. In fact, he kept eye contact with me the whole time.

"Please. I promise whatever it is, I can fix it." Could I? I didn't even know what was wrong with him. I didn't even know who this guy was. I didn't even know if I was going to make it out of here alive so I could help him.

"Can you?" The man asked, but not in a tone that suggested he truly cared. It was almost spiteful, hateful, and sarcastic. After bringing the right corner of his mouth up into a smirk, the pace in his steps started to quicken.

I turned and started to run.

I ran in complete darkness. I just followed the small portions of light that reflected on the ground every couple yards or so…and the fact that I hadn't hit a wall yet.

I gasped when I heard this ear-piercing, demonic yell from behind me. I just kept running.

This was it. I was going to die here. This man, this man who had so much hate for me, wanted me dead and, probably, was going to get his way.

I just kept running. Every time I looked back, he was nowhere to be found. I could hear him getting closer, but never saw him.

Then, it happened.

I ran into a dead end. I hit the wall and desperately looked around, but there wasn't anywhere I could go or anything I could do.

I heard the yell again.

I turned around and put my back up against the wall. This was the farthest I could go.

I watched what was happening in front of me in horror. Every time the man went under some light, I noticed there was something different about him. First, he got paler and more sickly looking. Then, each time he went under some light, he appeared to have bruises, cuts, and even managed to look more sick.

I closed my eyes and turned my head away when he stopped right in front of me. I could hear him breathing, a long with the hums of…electricity?

With some unsteady breathing, I turned my head towards him and slowly opened my eyes. There was only silence.

My eyes were not met with blue eyes anymore, but instead, black.

It's him.

The convict from Praxis's prison. The man that I watched be tortured over and over again; the man that I didn't, or couldn't, help enough. Why does he want to hurt me? It's the Baron he should be after.

He just stood there. Purple light surrounded him as he continued to look at me. I've never seen someone want me dead so bad.

This is how he escaped the chair in prison. I saw it. This time, though, he didn't have claws, fangs, and horns. He only had white skin and black eyes. Could it be possible that he can control his new power in levels? Power? This wasn't a power. It was a curse; there's absolutely no good that could come from this.

And I did this.

Thankfully, his friend, or pet, came to his rescue. If it wasn't for him, this man wouldn't be free. Then again, thanks to his friend, the prisoner is free to seek revenge on me. If only I could tell him I meant no harm. It was obviously too late for that.

The squirrel, this guy's friend, said his name was Jak. Maybe I could try communicating with him?

I looked up to him and softly spoke, "…Jak?"

For once, I saw him share an expression. All I could do was wish for a smile, but that wasn't what I got. This creature, this thing, was familiar with the name, but almost seemed confused, yet disgusted, about being addressed that way.

I lifted my hand slowly in an attempt to place my hand on his shoulder. I didn't know what I was doing. I couldn't control myself; this action wasn't something that I wanted to do.

The man grabbed my wrist tightly.

It was once again silent as we just looked at each other. I let out an unsteady exhale that I had been holding in for too long.

It started to scream.

I can't even begin to explain how horrifying this was. I heard liquid splatter on the ground. I glanced down to see that it was blood from his fingers being replaced by talons. Blood ran down his forehead and his mouth from the horns that grew from his head and the fangs that grew from his gums.

Every second that went by it got louder, more menacing, and more contorted. What started out as a normal male yelling, turned into a terrifying, demonic wail. My ears started to ring as his shrieks gained some heaviness to them. I covered one of my ears with the hand that was free and turned to the side as the beast continued to scream directly in my face. At this point, it wasn't a possessed scream anymore; not by a long shot. It was a overbearing roar that sounded like some wicked beast. A curling bellow sounded from his throat as he cocked his head to side and hissed, only to lunge at me again when I moved even slightly.

"I'm sorry!" I tried to yell over him and the humming sparks, "I'm sorry!" I started to drop down and tears started to pour from my eyes as he wailed in intervals, snapping his fangs at me. Drool hung loosely from his mouth as he growled and snarled like a wild dog approaching its prey.

I opened my eyes abruptly and sat up, breathing deeply. I closed my eyes as a bead of sweat ran down my forehead, over my eyelid, and down my cheek.

A dream? Is that what that was? Just a dream?

I went to pull my left arm to my face so I could wipe the sweat away, but, for some reason, couldn't. All I heard was a clank.

"What?" I mumbled to myself.

I looked down to see that my left hand was restrained by a handcuff that was attached to a bed railing. I started to yank violently, hoping that the railing would bust.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

"No!" I continued to pull on the handcuff. I didn't know where I was and what was going on. The last thing I remember is walking through Haven City after escaping the Fortress.

Was I captured? Am I back at HQ? What do they have planned for me now?

"It's about time you woke up." I heard a raspy, male voice say.

I stopped struggling and looked towards the voice. The person was only a shadow illuminated by a lamp that hung over a table behind him.

I squinted my eyes, hoping to make out the figure out better.

"Who are you?" I asked.

The man chuckled, causing me to narrow my eyebrows from both nervousness and confusion.

"It hasn't been that long has it, Cara?" The man walked closer to the bed that I was restrained to. His footsteps on the hard floor were so slow and nonchalant; he had no rush to show himself. "I'm a little hurt that you don't remember an old friend…" He continued sarcastically. His face became visible; I could see his red hair and inked face; the face held a smirk.

"Torn." I said more sternly than softly.

All I got as a response was a 'hmph'.

"How did you find me? More importantly, why are you helping me?"

"I found you practically dead in the middle of the street. I couldn't just leave you there…" Torn talked very calmly, almost monotone, which is normal from what I remember about him. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to the bed.

I looked down to my leg, which just so happened to sting a little when he mentioned me almost being dead. My leg was wrapped in a bandage. He had actually taken me in and patched me up. But, why? The last time I saw him I wanted to shoot him in the back of the head and actually took the time to tell him that. Traitor.

"Why not? You had no problem leaving me and our men to die before."

Torn chuckled again and looked down, shaking his head. "Already with this, huh?"

I looked away as I bit the inside of my cheek. There were so many things I wanted to say to this man, this traitor. We were at war. We were deployed to fight against a wave of Metal Heads and he left. Torn left me and our fellow soldiers, our friends, to die.

"You left…" I said simply.

"And I'm glad I did!" Torn shot back at me, causing me to look over. "You really think I was going to continue to stand there and fight for the man who I despise more than anything?"

I looked down.

Torn continued, "What would be the fuckin' point? I wasn't about to be sent out on another one of the Baron's suicide missions when they were all bullshit! No plans, no strategy, no back-up, nothing! He just sent all of us out there to be slaughtered! … Oh, and don't think for a second that I haven't heard about your little program. Seems as if I left just in time."

This forced me to look up at him.

"Yeah, you're little 'Dark Warrior' program. I know all about it."

"That wasn't my program."

"Really?" Torn asked, once again, sarcastically.

"Originally, it was. The Baron was the one who turned it into something evil. All I wanted to do was come up with something that could help us stop the war with the Metal Heads. I never meant for a human to be experimented on." After saying what I needed to, I looked away. I didn't want to see his face after what I said. He would probably think I was evil, but honestly, am I not?

"A human?" Torn asked, obviously in shock. Apparently, he didn't know everything about the program.

I nodded, "Yes. Praxis and CDR. Erol-…"

"Don't call that piece of scum 'CDR.' in front of me-…"

"Sorry, …Erol. They brought in one of the prisoners and started doing experiments, actually, I don't even think you could call them that. It was more like torture. Every day, they would bring him in that center chair in the cell common and pump him full of Dark Eco. All of the prisoners would watch in horror from their cell doors, afraid that it would be their turn soon. I watched many of them die and I was reprimanded constantly because I couldn't save them. Like I even could. But, that one prisoner, held on so well. I treated him countless times…he didn't die."

"Is he still there now?" Torn asked.

I then remembered. "No!" I looked to Torn and smiled. "That's right! I remember everything now: he escaped!" I sat myself up enthusiastically and tried to situate myself, despite the handcuff that was still clamped around my wrist.

"And that's good news, why?" Torn rose one of his eyebrows.

"He isn't dead!" I sighed, "Out of all the prisoners that passed during the program, I would have hated to see him die."

This was true, but my recent nightmare definitely had me thinking. Ever since I woke up, I've been mentally praying to the Precursors that it wasn't a vision and that it was just a dream. His capabilities and his potential for evil were spot on. How do I know that he wouldn't really do that to me if I were to ever see him again? It wouldn't be the first time the product of an experiment killed its scientist. There are so many stories about it.

This wasn't something Torn needed to know about, though.

"Why? What about him made him so special?"

"He was…different."

"How so?"

I took a moment to think before I spoke.

...

I walked into a cell at the Baron's Fortress prison. This cell was one of the few that I was very familiar with.

I rested my hand against the wall of the cell and stood there. It was the first time I ever actually set foot inside this cell. I didn't know what to expect. I've been a lone with this prisoner before, but never right after an Eco treatment.

The prisoner laid on his cot, with his back towards me. He was curled up in a ball and it was pretty apparent that he was crying. I couldn't help but share a solemn, worrisome glance at his backside.

I slowly walked towards the prisoner with my hand outstretched. I barely set a hand on his shoulder, when he gasped and sat up, pushing his backside into the wall of the cell.

"It's me…" I said, withdrawing my hand and holding it to my chest.

He was shaking and had so much fear in his eyes. He couldn't even hold direct eye contact with me for more than a few seconds.

"It's okay…" I walked a little closer, and, in return, he shuffled a bit and attempted to push himself farther into the wall.

I got another look at his eyes.

Blue.

I could tell he used to be so joyful, so happy, and carefree. At this time, he couldn't have been more than twenty years of age, like me. His blonde hair stuck up straight, completely defying the laws of gravity. His skin was bronzed, but I couldn't even begin to imagine how if he was from Haven.

"Here." I slowly handled him a damp cloth.

He looked at me a few times before he inched his way closer. I smiled and continued to extend the cloth his way, but it took some time for him to reach out and take it from me.

I watched as he started to rub off all of the grime, dirt, and blood on his face. After he cleaned his face, he set his hands down in his lap and looked up at me.

I smiled and I swear he was about to as well, but the opening of a door and yelling caused us both to look in it's direction.

"Wake up, worthless runts! You know what time it is!"

A man yelled while clanking metal against other prisoners' cell doors. It sounded like he was a few aisles down.

I turned back to look at the prisoner and saw that he was back to being frightened.

"I'm sorry… I have to go!" I said before turning around and bolting out of the cell.

...

I couldn't explain all of that to Torn. What kind of convincing would that do? There was literally nothing that I could say; my recollections would be pointless. What shows heart, emotion, and character to me would appear weak and stupid to Torn. In other words, the prisoner wouldn't appear to be strong; he would appear to be a pussy, in Torn's words.

"He just…wasn't like the others."

"We've established that." Torn said. His tone conveyed that I was, most likely, wasting his time at this point.

"Hmph," I chuckled and went to place a strand of hair behind my ear, but… you know.

Clank.

"Can I honestly ask why you restrained me?" I asked annoyed. I could already tell that the mood changed within the span of my little daydream.

"You're a Krimzon Guard; didn't wanna take any chances." Torn glanced over at my handcuffs and then back at me with a smirk.

"I was a Krimzon Guard. Not anymore." I retorted.

"That's good to hear." It took me by surprise when Torn decided to stand up. "When do you want to start working?"

I fluttered my eyes and then widened them. "Uh…work?"

"Yeah, I spared your life, now you can help our cause. Sounds like a strikin' deal to me." Torn placed a thumb under his chin and surveyed me and all of my reactions.

Was it funny? Was it entertaining to watch me be confused about my own life?

"What do you mean our cause?"

"The Underground. This movement is dedicated to exposing the Baron and all of his secrets. We're hoping to cause enough of a stir to cause an uproar; to have his own people, his prisoners, rebel against him and kick his sorry ass off of the throne."

"And, how's that going so far?" I couldn't help but ask. Sure, the whole thing sounds fine and dandy, and almost crazy convenient, but I wasn't about to go into some movement that's getting its ass handed to it.

"Better than we originally thought it would."

"Then why do you need me?"

Torn chuckled, "We don't."

"Oh." Ouch.

"Hey, if you're not interested, then you're not interested," Torn shifted his weight to another foot, "Good luck wandering outside on your own after your stunt." Torn turned his back towards me and started to walk towards the table in the center of the room.

I sat there quietly. My eyes shifted around as I thought deeply for a moment.

"Wait…"

Torn stopped walking and I could almost tell he was smirking to himself.

"So, you're telling me that if I join your Underground movement, we can get rid of Praxis? And that this is actually possible?"

Torn turned towards me once more, "More possible than you'd believe." Torn walked towards me, fast enough to make me uncomfortable and stiffen up. I blinked a few times and tried to scoot back. I closed my eyes as I felt his shadow hover over me.

Clank.

I opened my eyes when I felt the handcuffs release from around my wrist. I was too busy looking at my wrist as I rolled it. After rubbing my wrist with my other hand, I looked up to Torn.

"When do I start?" I smirked.

"ASAPPY." Torn said seriously and ever so sternly.

"ASSAPY?" I asked as I attempted to get off the bed and stand.

"As Soon As Possible, Preferably Yesterday." He barked at me and, once again, turned away from me and walked towards the table.

Small note: 'ASAPPY' was something that I learned from someone else's fic. I believe it was from A Jak Story: When Trust is Broken. Sorry if I butchered the title, but I can't really go back and look right now (ah, don't kill me). I just loved it. Thanks for reading. :)