D'Amore was sitting behind his desk, staring at the bunch sitting around his office, working on what had to be his sixth cup of coffee since they'd come in. Another pot was brewing on the machine behind him, but even at that, he had another packet of mix set next to it, obviously prepared for another pot even after that one.

"This is some damn Mel Gibson conspiracy shit," he mumbled, raising a slightly shaky mug to take another sip, turning his attention to the couch on the opposite wall, where Eddie and Dave were sitting with Rey, as Keith was leaned back in a wooden chair they'd brought in from the hallway.

"We wouldn't have come here and done things like this if it weren't a huge, huge thing," Dave said. "They've been on us every step of the way and we couldn't go to anyone we were directly connected to. We knew you were here and we hoped you'd be able to help us."

D'Amore sighed, putting his mug down and pinching the bridge of his nose. "So why do I have half a dozen TNA guys headed this way?"

"We wanted to throw them off the scent. If a story breaks about a bunch of wrestlers suddenly showing up here, we figured it'd only get picked up as a TNA story and not involve any of us WWE folks."

"Not to mention having some extra backup just in case," Eddie added. "Once we get the media coming, we don't know whether or not they'll still come after us."

"They want Rey back something fierce, and at the very least they want to erase all of our brains of everything that's happened so we can't blab." Keith cleared his throat faintly. "At the very least."

"I'm gonna guess I don't even want to hear about the worst." D'Amore muttered.

"It's what you would expect."

"Oh good," D'Amore said, a sarcastic cheer in his voice. "You know, I was just thinking this morning my life isn't complete without a few incredibly serious death threats."

"We're really sorry to have involved you in this," Eddie said, hugging Rey a little closer. "We were desperate, couldn't find anyone to help us."

D'Amore sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "It's fine, it's fine. If I'm ever in a situation like this, I like to think I could come to WWE folks for protection...not that I will ever be involved in a situation like this because something this insane doesn't happen twice in a lifetime, but hey, what are you gonna do?" He leaned back, spreading his arms as though waiting for a big hug. "Mi casa and su casa and whatever else."

"There aren't any students coming today, are there?" Rey suddenly asked, raising his head slightly, voice quiet but still startling, considering he hadn't even appeared to be acknowledging them during the entire conversation.

"No, no...I canceled all my classes for the rest of the week as soon as Jeff called me. Fortunately, I've learned to anticipate huge trouble from you WWE guys."

Rey nodded slightly, and sagged back against Eddie, as though rising from the mental distance he'd been at had been an exhausting effort, closing his eyes and going back into the apparently self-imposed exile. Eddie smiled faintly and hugged him tightly, whispering something in Spanish.

"What was that?" Batista asked, glancing over at them.

"He said 'even at your lowest, you put others first'," Keith said, turning in his chair to look at them, chewing his lip. "Even the scientists commented on it back at the hospital...Rey consistently showed more concern over the others around him in the program than himself, fretted more over his family and friends than he ever did over himself. That was a big part of why they decided to bring you in, Dave. They'd calculated the two of you developing a friendship into his programming and figured that the best way to try and break through his false memories was to use people close to him...they couldn't use anyone who was actually a close friend of his for obvious reasons but they figured they could use someone who'd never had any serious interaction with him before without that person turning traitor on the program."

"They figured wrong," Batista said bitterly. "Whether or not Rey and I were friends before this happened, we're friends now. Not to mention that I'm not some inhuman monster like they are who could just see an innocent person going through that sort of shit and just decide there's no reason to do anything...goddamnit if I could have snuck him out of there on my own..."

"You did everything you could, Dave," Keith said. "One person couldn't fight this all on their own. Hell, seven government agencies working together haven't been able to stop it yet. Bettler made sure she got the best of the best and she's maneuvered so much red tape into things that it's hard to even prove what's happened."

"Well we're gonna prove it," Eddie said firmly, looking up from Rey. "And we're going to get rid of this whole mess, we're gonna fix it, we're going to repair the lives of everyone who got pulled into this that we can and make sure the bad people pay."

Keith sighed, seeming that he was about to say something else, but looked at Rey and just shook his head, turning his attention back to D'Amore. "When are your friends going to get here?"

"Should be any time, I told them to get here as fast as they could."

"Who all are you expecting?" Batista asked.

"Sabin was the one who talked to me, asked what he should do. I told him to round up anyone he could, he...mentioned a few names. AJ, your old buddy Kurt, Jarrett, that psycho bitch ODB, Joe...a few others, I think, I don't know for sure who all exactly." D'Amore shrugged. "They were just finishing a house show tour so he was probably able to pick and choose who he wanted."

Eddie nodded. "Just those names are a pretty fierce. That should get us enough attention to draw on at least a couple of mainstream news people."

"I'll go ahead and start calling, then..." D'Amore muttered, picking up the phone on his desk and starting to dial. "Newspapers, TV, Internet, I'm guess-," He stopped, frowning, then tapped at the disconnect button on the phone a few times, putting it back to his ear, then grumbling. "Seven months I've had this building and the phone system is still a pile of crap. This is why God invented cell phones...so people don't have to waste their time with the stupid phone company!" He stood, digging in his pocket, taking out a small silver phone and flipping it open, starting to dial.

"Eddie!" a voice called from down the hall, and they looked over at the sound of a near stampede, but when the office door flew open, only Cena and Beth, both dripping wet and haphazardly dressed in soggy, clinging clothing, burst in.

"Well talk about not wasting time," D'Amore said, hesitating halfway through his dial. "What exactly have you guys been doing in my locker room?"

Both of them started talking, voices loud and frantic, until Beth suddenly elbowed Cena in the side, making him grunt but go silent. "Shut up, they can't listen to us both at once!"

"You are such a rude bitch!" he shot back.

"What the hell is going on?" Batista asked, standing.

"Okay, fast version, when they had Cena, we think they stuck a tracker in his side where they were zorching him so they're probably still following us!" Beth said quickly.

"What?" Eddie and Batista both let out at once, Batista lunging to his feet and Eddie clutching Rey closer to his side.

Cena pulled up his shirt, pointing to the burn wound. "It's in there, there's a bulge you can feel and it's definitely something, and it's under a cut."

Keith got up, coming over and looking closer at the wound, probing a moment, eyes widening. "I think they're right."

"Shit!" Batista snarled, smashing a fist into D'Amore's desk, making the man jump and drop his cell phone to the floor with a clatter. "They think of everything, they fucking think of everything, I swear to God!"

"Okay, okay, then we need to move fast," Eddie said. "We just gotta get ahead of them, stay one step ahead and then take out Cena's tracker too and-,"

The door slammed open again, and Chavo and Josh rushed in, looking out of breath and ruffled. "Guys, guys, guys, they're here!" Chavo blurted out.

"What? Who's here?" D'Amore asked. "The TNA guys?"

"No, the scientists, those dudes, they're here...Kane and some freak just jumped us back in the locker rooms and we beat up the weird guy but Kane's still in here wandering around somewhere and there have to be more-," Josh was gasping out.

"Wait, slow down before you swallow your damn tongue," D'Amore muttered. "Scientists? What kind of freakass scientists are these people?"

"Oh God..." Rey whispered softly, cringing back in his seat faintly, tucking his chin down against his chest and drawing up his arms and good leg as much as he could, curling up in as close to a ball as he could manage.

"You don't want to know, all right? You just don't..." Keith said, shaking his head, voice measured but eyes obviously widened in fear.

"Okay, okay," Batista said, holding up a hand to gain their attention. "Then we need to move faster. We need to find Jeff and Morrison and get the fuck out quick." He turned to Eddie, who was already moving to pick Rey up again. "You got him?"

"I've had him all along, I've got him now," Eddie answered gruffly, but his voice turned soft and soothing as he tried to coax Rey out of his defensive position. "Rey-Rey, come on, we're gonna get out of here, okay? We're not gonna let anyone get you."

"Already got me, Eddie..." he murmured, shaking his head, a barely perceptible rock to his motions where he was sitting. "Already got me, had me all along, hasn't he? He's been here all along, he's always been here..."

"Rey, calm down, wowito, I promise you're gonna be safe, we just have to move, okay? We need to get up and moving though, we gotta go-,"

"Another trick all along..." Rey whimpered, shaking his head hard, refusing to be budged. "I knew it, I knew it wasn't real, I knew it wasn't real, I knew it wasn't, Kane's sick, he's sick he's twisted, knew he wasn't going to let me go, knew he wasn't..."

"Rey..." Eddie knelt in front of him, grabbing Rey's face in his hands, trying to force him to make eye contact. "Rey-Rey, come on, don't do this, holmes, please don't do this. You're safe, Rey, listen to me. You're safe, Kane's not going to get you, I will not let him, okay? Rey? Rey-Rey?" Eddie shook him very lightly, trying to get his attention, and finally Rey seemed to meet his gaze...but Eddie winced when he looked into Rey's eyes, wet with tears and yet glassy, staring without seeing, apparently focused on a point somewhere several feet behind them, on nothing.

"Rey?" Batista asked, crouching next to him.

Eddie shook his head slowly, biting his lip. "I think something's wrong..." he said softly, a quaver in his own voice, even as he tried again, pulling Rey forward, shaking his shoulders a little, trying to get his attention. "Rey...Rey, Rey, wowito, please, Rey, come on..."

Keith stepped over a little briskly, moving Eddie and Batista aside and grabbing Rey's face, looking at his face, snapping his fingers in front of the smaller man's face a few times, then let him go, shaking his head. "Psychological retreat. Nothing we can do right now but get him away from here and worry about nursing him back to health later."

"Oh God...oh God, he's gone, isn't he?" Eddie shook his head, breath hitching. "He's completely gone, isn't he? He snapped, he's just snapped-,"

Keith turned and grabbed Eddie by the arm, pulling him up and shaking him harder than he had been shaking Rey. "Listen to me right now, okay? All of you." He glanced around at the others, voice taking a stern, commanding note. "Put it out of your mind and let's get moving. There's nothing more you can do to help than what you're doing now. Rey will be fine once we get him away from this environment. All right?" There was a brief pause, and he looked back at Eddie, shaking him once more. "All right?"

Eddie seemed to physically shake himself, then shoved Keith away, gritting his teeth, but moving over to Rey, reaching down and carefully scooping him up, holding him close. "All right, I got him," he said, voice measuredly calm. "Now let's get Jeff and Johnny and get-,"

From somewhere else in the building, there was a sudden scream, a sound of a curious mix between fear, rage, and desperation. "Give him back! Give him back! Let me go, give him back! Jeff! Jeff, no, stop it! Give him back!"

"That's Morrison!" Beth gasped, turning and bolting out the door, Cena and Chavo right on her heels, followed by, after a second's hesitation, Josh. Batista grabbed Eddie's shoulder as he moved to follow as well, shaking his head.

"You need to take Rey out of here, get him somewhere safe."

"What about the rest of you?"

"Don't worry about us, okay? Just get Rey to safety, he's the important thing. Without him, they can never completely cover up their experiments."

"But-,"

"And I'm afraid at this point, one more person won't make a difference..." Keith said. He glanced backwards, blinking at the sight of D'Amore, still sitting at his desk, but with the cell phone against his ear. He raised an eyebrow on making eye contact with Keith, but nodded slightly.

"I called the local news folks and reported a drug bust was about to happen here," he said softly. "Of course, they're ecstatic to come running and see that. Especially since I called all three area networks."

Keith nodded a little, motioning. "You'd better leave too. Get as far away from here as you can."

"The hell you say. I may not look like much but I can swing a stick just fine. You guys dragged me into this, you can't just shove me out-,"

"You can wait outside for the TNA guys then, and tell them what's happening," Batista broke in. "And Eddie, you just run like hell, get anywhere as far and as safe as you can get and no matter what, don't you dare even look back. Just protect Rey."

Eddie shook his head. "But...Dave, you guys will..."

"Stop wasting time and get moving. It might already be too late," Keith said.

Eddie stood silent a moment, biting his lip hard, then looked down at Rey, letting out a breath and closing his eyes, then nodding determinedly. "All right, all right. I'm going. Come on, Scott."

D'Amore shrugged and got up, the phone still to his ear as Eddie hurried out the door, running the opposite direction, towards the exits. Batista glanced at Keith, nodding once, then they followed the direction the others had gone as fast as they could manage.

( )

Beth barely slowed down when she got to the door she could hear Morrison's shouts coming from, turning enough to barrel a shoulder into the door and sling it open, charging in. "Morrison!" she gasped, coming to a halt with the others behind her at what she saw.

The room had at least a dozen people in it, about half of them the hulking brutes in gray uniforms they'd seen at the hospital and the other half what looked like conservative businessmen in khakis and suits, all of whom whipped about to stare as they burst in. Two of those men were carrying handguns, and all the gray-suited men were armed with what looked like batons. One of them had Morrison pinned on his front on the ground, hands wrenched behind his back and held there despite Morrison's howling and struggling to get loose.

"Let me save him! Let me save him!" he was shrieking, apparently fixated on what was happening on the other side of the room, where a couple of the businessmen were knelt over Jeff, who appeared to be completely unconscious, not even moving. "He's dying, please, he's dying, please let me save him!"

"What the hell's going on?" Cena yelled from behind her.

The two men with guns immediately aimed them towards their group, even as Morrison tried his best to turn his head towards them, sobbing. "They killed Jeff, they killed Jeff!"

"We aren't going to let him die," an unfamiliar female voice interrupted, and Beth and the others glanced over towards it. A vaguely overweight, middle-aged looking woman, dressed like the businessmen, with tanned skin, dark eyes and long black hair with streaks of white through it, was making her way towards Jeff, carrying a green case in one hand. She knelt beside him, opening the case and taking out a syringe and a glass bottle of clear liquid, starting to draw some of it out.

"What are you doing to him?" Cena demanded, starting to move towards her, ignoring the presence of the guards and guns around him.

"Tabula Rasa," the woman said idly, and Cena jerked in his step, seeming almost to spasm, then fell facefirst to the floor, where two of the men in gray leapt onto his back, pinning his arms down.

"John-!" Beth started, but yelped when she and Chavo were each grabbed from behind by two of the gray suits and thrown down on the ground as well, before they had any chance to fight.

The woman ignored the brief fight behind her, putting down the bottle and raising the needle, depressing the plunger just enough to let a small stream of liquid shoot out, then motioned to one of the businessmen, who stepped over and brusquely took hold of Jeff's shirt, yanking it up to expose his ribcage. The woman put a hand on his ribs, feeling carefully for a moment, then took the needle and pushed it in just to the side of the middle, pushing the plunger and swiftly pulling it out.

The reaction was nearly instant. One second Jeff was laying on the ground motionless, and the next he had let out a gargling scream and almost managed to sit up completely, but fell back against the floor, twitching and crying out. The businessman turned him onto his side, as Jeff gagged and choked a moment, eyes flittering open just a second when he abruptly retched and vomited, and only then did the businessman let him sag back against the floor, wheezing, grunting, still seizing, breathing obviously labored, but it was breath, which was better than it had been.

Even despite the situation, Morrison sobbed in relief, because even as bad as things were, they were better because at least Jeff was alive, and if Jeff was alive then there was a chance, a chance was better than no chance. He stopped his frantic struggling, trying to catch his breath, glancing around, trying to figure out exactly what the situation was now.

The woman stood, watching Jeff, frowning. "There must be some swelling in his breathing passages. We'll need to intubate him when we get back." She looked at Alexander's body, still laying against the far wall, with faint disdain. "We also need to reinstitute our behavioral modifications on our Class D personnel. Obviously they aren't quite powerful enough."

Cena's hypnotic paralysis broke abruptly, and he immediately struggled to get loose of the two holding him, grunting and snarling. "You fucking bitches! Let me up from here, I swear to God I'll-,"

"And apparently Walter didn't have enough time to make his memory plants more long-lasting," she added, glancing over. "We'll need to work on that as well."

"Who the fuck are you?" Cena growled, still trying to jerk his way loose.

The woman turned to him, started to turn away as though disregarding the question entirely, then stopped, shrugging almost to herself, and turned back, smiling faintly.

"My name is Doctor Gladys Bettler. It's nice to make your acquaintance at last."