They drove in silence for a while, leaving the tiny town and getting onto a highway heading out, at first not really caring where it took them, so long as it was away from Pembroke and the police. After feeling a little more certain that they were safe, they'd pulled over to rig up a sort of travel shade on the windows, stopping at a gas station to procure duct tape and a tarp, ripping it up and taping it over the windows as a sort of curtain, so that they had no worries of being spotted by anyone passing on the highway. While the others handled that, Josh snuck away and procured the license plate from the clerk's car, swapping it with the van's, helping to further obscure their identity. He then climbed into the driver's seat to take them through another tiny town, pulling through the first McDonalds he saw to order lunch for them, and once Chavo had finished eating, he'd pulled a hat on his head and was now taking a turn driving, still following the same highway.

At the same time, Eddie had bought a newspaper, and though they weren't above the fold, their disappearance from the Raw taping was front page news, just below an article on the President meeting with some foreign dignitary and next to a story about a local scandal involving city hall. There wasn't much detail to the story yet, just that a large number of WWE wrestlers had abruptly walked out of an area Raw taping and were still missing, with a phone number to call for details. They recognized the number as belonging to Vince's personal assistant, which rang worryingly, since they all knew that Vince was somehow involved in Rey's abduction and everything else that had happened, though not even Batista knew exactly what his stake was.

For the time being, they had no more ideas. They had the files Marcia and Batista had saved up, and they had Rey. But as Morrison had pointed out, calling a newspaper or television station would probably get them nowhere, and any of them just showing up at the offices might cause too much stir too fast...the story might not have time to get anywhere before their location got out and the scientists were bearing down on them. It wasn't very likely, but it was a little too likely for their preference yet.

In case they weren't morose enough, Cena's condition rapidly went from bad to worse. At first he'd just been semiconscious, laying in the seat and muttering nonsense under his breath, rolling his head back and forth. That had suddenly devolved into screaming gibberish and oddly violent sentences at them, writhing and clawing at himself that bordered on convulsions, which didn't stop until Cena was sweating feverishly and his shirt was tattered, and as Batista had warned, copious vomiting. Beth had fortunately thought far enough ahead to get some trash bags from the gas station to handle the mess, and she simply handed them forward to Chavo to toss out the window whenever they were used. But several times, Batista and Eddie had to physically hold Cena down to stop him from hurting himself or anyone else just through the force of his frenzied spasms. Eddie had tried to get through to him, calm him down, but Batista had explained that Cena didn't know what was happening himself, wasn't in control, couldn't stop even if he happened to be awake to stop it, which he probably wasn't. They just had to ride it out.

He was going through one right now, the most extreme one yet. Jeff and Morrison found themselves having to crawl over the seat to sit on Cena and help hold him, as he was even overpowering Batista and Eddie with this outburst. Josh sat in the back with Rey while Beth perched silently in the front passenger seat, holding a T-shirt and a bottle of water, waiting for it to be over with.

"Careful, Skittles," Eddie said to Jeff, as he was nearly thrown off by the force of Cena's thrashing. "Try not to suffocate him."

"We got it," Morrison responded, grunting in effort to try and stay in place.

"It'll get better," Batista said, after the fit finally gave way to exhausted murmurs. "This is how it always goes. Once it finishes working out of his system, he'll be all right. This shit just does a number on the nervous system for a little while."

"What the hell is this crap?" Jeff panted, moving over the seat to sit back down as Beth scooted forward, soaking the shirt with the bottle of water and starting to wipe Cena's face, neck and chest, trying to cool his overheated skin.

"I don't know. But it's the drug that the entire test was about, to a degree. Or at least it was what they used, in conjunction with a bunch of different brainwashing techniques, to keep stuff going. All I really know is that they'd give it to people, they'd be like this for a while, and once it was out of them and they woke up, they usually lost a few hours of memory...except for whatever bits were programmed in while they were under." Batista sighed, sitting back and wiping his forehead. "We're kind of lucky so far that it's just throwing up and we can control his freaking out. It could be a lot messier. At least one person scratched her eyes up so bad..." his voice trailed off as he winced, obviously not wanting to continue the memory.

"How often did this happen?" Eddie asked, sitting back on the floor of the van, brushing his hair back slightly.

Batista sighed. "Daily. More than daily. Strapping people down to keep them from attacking anyone, forcing it down their throats or injecting it if they fought too hard. Just in the time I was there seeing what happened..." He chewed his lip, glancing back towards Rey.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. "How often did it happen to him, Dave?" he said, a definite edge to his voice.

Batista shook his head slightly. "A lot. I don't know how many times exactly. But a lot. And going from what I saw happening to others, there's a chance he spent days at a time in a state like this...so many people did..."

There was a moment of silence, as Eddie just glared at him, and the others looked on in alarmed silence. After a little bit, Batista leaned back against the wall of the van, sighing and rubbing his hands over his face, staring down at the floor. When he spoke, his voice cracked.

"I'm sorry. I'm...I'm just...I'm sorry, you know? I didn't...I didn't know what to do..." He looked up towards Eddie, and there were tears visible in his eyes, though he seemed to be trying to keep them back. "I tried to follow M-Marcia and...she came to me to, and I just...I didn't know what to do, man, you gotta believe me...I wanted to stop it but I couldn't..."

From the backseat, Rey tilted his head, then got up, making his way forward, scooching around the others through the tight space of the van and coming over to Batista, crouching down and scooting in, suddenly hugging him close.

"It's okay, Dave," he said softly. "Things were bad, you didn't mean it. And you saved me."

"Not soon enough..." Batista murmured, pulling Rey closer.

"Hell's a big thing to fight." Rey shrugged slightly, as though it should be obvious. "I'm scared of it, too. But you and the others all came in anyway to save me."

Batista sighed, patting Rey's head. "Yeah...yeah, we did..."

( )

They drove a while further before finding another tiny little town with another rundown motel, fairly shabby and apparently decorated by a blind man with no one to tell him green and orange didn't go together as a scheme, but the beds were comfortable and they were relatively clean rooms. They had stopped for gas a couple of hours earlier, and Batista had used the ATM to draw cash off of his credit card. Now Josh went in to pay for two rooms with the cash, as Eddie had pointed out the credit card could have been what was used to track them down at the previous motel. Josh felt also that he was the least likely of the group to be recognized, so he arranged for two rooms on the ground floor, not connected, but still adjoining, so they could stay close together.

They hadn't planned on getting another hotel, not so soon in the day and particularly not after how things had gone down that morning, but staying in the van, especially with Cena's condition, was beginning to border on unbearable. Jeff was rocking himself and obviously getting quite agitated at having to be cramped into one place for so long, Chavo was starting to show signs of serious road rage which would boil over sooner rather than later, they were all getting stiff and sore, the frustration at not being able to figure out their next move was mounting, and they were running low on plastic bags while Cena seemed to be showing no signs of running out of stomach contents.

They'd managed to park right next to the rooms, so they minimized their time spent being visible from the street, and so they were able to bring out a blanket and wrap it around Cena to keep him hidden as well. Likely if anyone saw people carrying an unconscious man from a white utility van into a hotel room, they would be at least slightly curious.

Once they had him in, Beth, showing slightly more of a gentle and possibly maternal side than the others realized she was capable of, though still maintaining her usual surly Amazonian attitude, had ordered Batista to help her in carrying Cena into the bathroom, cleaning him up, and dressing him in a clean pair of pajama bottoms before tucking him into bed, where she continued to keep an eye on him. He seemed to finally be through the worst of the fits, just deeply unconscious, and Beth seemingly had taken it upon herself to bring him completely back to health no matter how long it might take.

It had been about an hour since they'd settled in, and Morrison was sitting on the other side of the bed, resting his chin in his hand, watching the others. Beth was still doting on Cena, and Eddie and Rey were sitting on the other bed, tacitly choosing to get lost in some old black and white show on the ancient television rather than dedicate any brainspace to thought. Batista had locked himself in the bathroom and apparently had no plans of coming out any time soon. He got up and stretched out, then headed outside, going to the next door and peeking in, seeing Josh and Chavo were sitting on one of the beds, examining the tattered phonebook for an idea of what to order for dinner that night.

"Do you guys know where Jeff is?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Think he went back into the van," Josh said, shrugging a little. "Probably just wanted some alone time. You know Jeff."

"Yeah, I do," Morrison answered, closing the door and turning to glance at the van.

( )

Jeff crawled all the way to the back seat of the van, stretching out on it to keep down so that no one would see him, even through the windshield. He blew out a breath, then pulled one of the cell phones out of his pocket, opening it and staring at the screen a moment, then closing his eyes, able to dial the familiar number as though his fingers remembered it without his brain. He put the phone to his ear, still keeping his eyes closed, listening to it ring at the other end. After three rings, it finally was answered.

"Hello?"

Jeff cleared his throat a little. "Hey, Matt."

"Jeff! Oh my God, where are you, what happened?"

Jeff could hear a female voice exclaiming in the background, which pretty well answered his next question, but he asked it anyway. "Are you with Angie and the kids?"

"What? Yeah, I am, but Jeff, for God's sakes, you just disappeared, you and all the others, where the hell are you? Are you okay? Are you in any trouble? What happened?" Matt's voice was almost frantic, and Jeff winced slightly at the thought of how much worry this had caused his older sibling.

"Matt, listen to me," he broke in. "Listen, I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to do something."

"What? Do you need a ride home, someone to pick you up, I can be at the airport in half an hour-,"

"No! Matt, please...just listen, okay?" Jeff rubbed his forehead with the hand not holding the phone. "I need you to do a couple of things. First I need you to call Daddy and tell him to swing by my house, pick up Beth and the dogs, and go stay with Shannon for a few days, okay?"

"What?" Matt was obviously going to be getting a lot of mileage out of that word with this conversation. "Jeff, why would-?"

"Just listen, Matt! After you do that, I need you to take Angie and the kids and I need you guys to get the hell out of sight. I don't care where you go, just take them somewhere that no one will be able to find you, not any of the guys from work, not Vince, not anyone, someplace that no one will be able to find you."

Matt was silent for a moment, and with his eyes closed, Jeff could easily visualize the befuddled look on his face, probably complete with a lot of fast blinking and his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate exactly how to respond. Finally, he came up with, "Jesus, Jeff, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? What's happening?"

"I can't...I can't tell you yet, Matt. I just need you to trust me and tell everyone what I said. Shannon can protect Daddy and Beth, he's the only person aside from you I would trust right now. And you've got to protect Angie and Dom and Ally and you've got to do that by hiding, all of you."

"Jeff, this is crazy-,"

"Matt, please..." Jeff heard a waver enter his voice, and when he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised when tears escaped. "Please, please, Matt, please, you just have to trust me this time, okay? This isn't drugs stuff or me screwing up, I swear. I just need to know that you guys are all okay, please...please just trust me, Matt, okay? Please..."

Matt was silent again, and this time Jeff could picture his contemplative expression, as he was trying to work out whether or not this was serious. But to Jeff's immense relief, he responded well. "Okay...okay, Jeff, I'll do that, I'll call Daddy and then I'll have Angie pack and we'll go someplace and lay low until I hear from you again."

Jeff let out a soft sigh. "Good...thank you...thank you, Matt, just hurry and do that and I'll talk to you again when this is all over."

"Do you...know how long whatever's happening will...take...?"

"I don't know...I hope not much longer..." Jeff winced. "Matt...what I'm doing...it might cause us trouble down the road. It's the right thing to do but it might be...it might cause bad things."

Matt hesitated before speaking again. "Are you sure it's the right thing to do, then?"

Jeff couldn't contain a faint whimper. "I know it is. I hate it, but it's the right thing to do...the only thing to do."

"Then just do it, do the best you can. I'll take care of everything on this end."

"I'm sorry for all of this, Matt..."

"It's okay, Jeff. If you're doing the right thing, don't ever be sorry for that. I'm gonna go now and call Daddy and get the kids ready to go. You call me as soon as things are okay again."

Jeff sniffled some. "Okay. I'll do that."

"Okay." There was a slight pause. "Is Johnny with you? He taking care of you?"

"Yeah...he's with me. All of us who left are together."

"Okay. Then I feel better knowing you aren't alone. I love you, little bro. That won't change, no matter what."

"I love you too, Matt. Please be careful." Jeff pulled the phone away from his ear and hit the button to turn it off, before he could lose his nerve. He dropped the phone into the floor next to him, then covered his face with his hands, sniffling again. "Oh God..."

"Hey..."

Jeff shot upright quickly in the seat, but he saw Morrison, who had made his way in quietly, and now was sitting on the front passenger seat, but he made his way closer when Jeff saw him. "Johnny, how long have you-?"

"Long enough." Morrison scooted Jeff over a bit and sat next to him. "You did the right thing there and you're doing the right thing now."

"I know...it just...it feels terrible. We're doing something s'posed to be so great, but...Matt's the one who's gonna pay for it when we get back..."

Morrison put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close. "He's gonna get hurt, no question. But he's gonna be really proud of you, too. You know, I know, and he'll know that this was absolutely the only thing a decent person could do with this situation." He leaned in and kissed Jeff lightly on the temple, rubbing his arm lightly. "You're doing something truly heroic, and he won't hold that against you."

Jeff nodded a little morosely, leaning against Morrison. "I hope we get this over with soon."

"We will. We'll think of something." Morrison reached down, cupping Jeff's chin and lifting his head, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Then we can all go home and rest and not worry about anything more serious than the fact that you refuse to give in to a healthy diet."

Jeff's mouth quirked slightly. "You aren't gonna get me to give up my deer steaks and beer for your tofu and wheatgrass, California boy."

"We'll see, Carolina boy. Meantime, it's kind of nice to have a little space to ourselves for a little while." Morrison kissed him again. "Let's enjoy the peace for at least a few minutes, shall we?"

Jeff nodded some, cuddling a little closer. "That's the best plan I've heard all day."