April 19th, 1985.

14

"Shit shit shit this was a bad plan… She should be awake by now." A deep voice I don't recognize keeps mumbling.

"Calm down." Mike says. "You're not fucking helping."

I moan slightly and shift. My head is resting on something warm and soft. Definitely not my cot. My eyes flicker open and latch onto a dark pair staring back at me from above. Mike. I cannot help the rush of joy that floods my body. Mike is alive. I am alive. And free. I beam up at him and he replies with a tentative smile.

"Hi." I whisper.

"Hi." He responds. I just look at him for a while, still foggy with sleep but very comfortable.

"Gonna introduce me?" The other voice teases. Mike flushes and snaps his head up quickly.

"Uh, yeah." He grasps my ribcage and lifts me up to sit beside him. I wince at the headache lingering in my skull.

"Oh yeah, you might have a bit of headache. I've never given them to humans before. Just you know, my rat." The voice belongs to a very tall, very wide guy with a big smile and a mass of riotous curls. Wow. I've never seen so much hair on a boy.

"I'm Dustin, by the way." He offers. "I went to school with Mike. Until he dropped out to, you know, go to fucking college like the smartass he is."

"Hi." I whisper, waving slightly with my hand. His rush of words is a bit much for my tired brain to handle, but I don't want to be rude to a friend of Mike's.

"Her name is Elle." Mike informs Dustin. Dustin rolls his eyes and cracks his knuckles.

"Yeah I figured, dumbass. Not like you're always going 'Elle this' and 'Elle that'. Man, for a guy who works-"

"Worked." Mike corrects.

"-worked at a top secret government facility, you really are a blabbermouth."

"I am not a-" Mike starts to scowl and raise his voice and I flinch slightly. I don't like yelling. It's better than the cold, hard voice Papa used, but not by much. Mike catches my gesture out of the corner of his eye and stops. His hand comes back down he stretches it towards me.

"Are you hungry, Elle?" He asks me. I nod slightly.

"Dustin, you got any food in this dump?" He asks. I look around at the 'dump'. It doesn't seem too bad to me. A dark, warm room with a clunky grey console in the center, surrounded by an odd assortment of lumpy bed-like things. I'm sitting on one right now. A… couch, I think. It's soft and squishy and deep and I could sleep forever on it. There are no windows, but a few doors lead out, all but one ajar.

"You bet your ass. You don't get man tits like this from starving yourself. You could stand to learn a thing or two from my example, skinny. Come on." Dustin walks out of the warm, dark room and Mike stands to follow him. He glances down at me, and for the first time seems to realize my state of undress.

"Uh, here." He hands me a large blanket emblazoned with a moose, and I drape it over my body gratefully.

"Thank you." I smile up at him. And I really mean it.