(Okay, authors note: The flashback in this chapter is a continuation of the flashback in the last chapter, which takes place around the events in the very first chapter of this fic... Sooo... yeah... )

Cassian yawned, rubbing his temples as he walked down the long hall. It was much too early for this, then again, it was his own problem that he hadn't gotten used to it. He was a night owl, always had been. He grumbled something under his breath before roughly pulling the iron door open and stepping into the cold, steely room. He looked around for a moment, surprised to see no sign of Jizabel.

"Strange, I thought he'd been working on something..."

There was a clatter of metal, and a few blatantly angered remarks from the left of him. He leaned his neck around the door, to see Doctor Zenopia tripping out of the supply closet. He was carrying a rather large and sharp instrument, it's purpose unknown to Cassian, and frankly he had little desire to know.

"Ah! Cassian," He remarked, setting it down on the table before crossing to the door with an eccentric smile. There where times when Cassian questioned just how this man had come to reside here, but he always dismissed those thoughts for fear the answer would put him a queasy state. He held out a gloved hand, with abit of blood splattered over his fingers, which Cassian reluctantly shook.

"Oh, Come over here, I've compiled my statistics on..."

And so the rambling began. Once The Hermit had his mind set on something, he was often able to find the answer... And once he found the answer, he would happily tell anyone who came in at the wrong time. It was one of the many things Cassian had gotten used to. Zenopia and Jizabel where at the top of their field, yet they couldn't be more different. Zenopia's short, stout, appearance drastically countered the Doctors physicality, as did his terrifyingly upbeat personality. Cassian knew that Jizabel was as distant from him as everyone else, yet... It was plain to see that their common interests brought them together, and despite the occasional disagreement they worked quite well with eachother, it was rather astonishing what their combined knowledge often produced. One of the many horrors of Delilah was how well greased a machine she was was. Zenopia paused, glancing up from his papers at Cassian.

"Hmmm... but you aren't interested in any of this, are you?" His tone was someone disappointed, but not surprised in the least. He paused, turning back around to pull some files out of a nearby drawer.

"Well, I have the results for you, at least..."

...And with that, his questions of where Jizabel had gotten off to where pushed roughly to the back of his head.

-----

Cassian sat in the chair across from Zenopia, his eyes staring at the tiles on the floor, Pointlessly examining every crack and blood stain.

"...So...That's just it, then?"

Zenopia nodded, rubbing his chin before standing up himself, setting his papers back in the drawer and pushing it closed. Cassian stood aswell, about to leave before he was held back by the strange man.

"Don't loose hope, There's still the... other option...," That odd grin lit up his face again, as he pet the head of the large hound beside him. Although, considering the height of them both the shaggy canine wasn't all that big.

Cassian frowned at Zenopia's statement. Yes... That was an option, though one he was not sure he was willing to take... Yet. There really was no winning for him. No sane doctors could wrap their heads around his case, yet Delilah... Delilah was so ahead of themselves that they skipped over any 'minor ailments'.

Then again, had they ever been about changing lives? No, not in that aspect of the term, at least.

"Look at this research data...We've yet to test it out on a human yet... Well, ha, I suppose we haven't tested it out on anything yet," He added, with a shrug, "Death doesn't approve of that sort of thing, you know....Of course, if it succeeds it would shake the world, it would...."

He was rambling again, and really, it wasn't so much rambling as it was that Cassian hadn't the faintest idea what he was even really talking about. Especially when he got technical. Cassian smiled to himself, at The Hermits earlier comment. In Jizabels perfect little world, of course there wouldn't be animal testing. He found it rather funny, actually, that they'd have achieved anything with only limited human test subjects, but still... The Cardmaster had raised the dead, with that nothing seemed like a far stretch.

"...Are you talking of that grotesque research of transplanting ones brain into another body?"

They turned, finally noticing Cassandra standing by the door with a smug look on his face. Cassians eyes narrowed, and his hand slid into his pocket, gripping one of his knives tightly.

"Hah, A brain transplant? Well, I wouldn't expect much else from the two of you, an old man with not much time left and.... The man, trapped in a childs body." He chuckled to himself, finding his own jests rather amusing. Cassian had noticed him do that before, he was always rather talented at keeping himself entertained.

"It may not seem like much to you, High Priest Cassandra, but-"

Cassandra scoffed, holding up his hand in a silencing motion.

"You needn't explain yourself, I could care less..." He looked down, coming eye to eye with Cassian and gave a short grin. Oh, if only he could just tell him all the vivid details of what he'd done last night... No, that would have to wait.

"...You're envious of me, aren't you?" He said with a vain air. Cassian grumbled something under his breath in disgust, but Cassandra failed to notice and continued his talk.

"...I understand why, afterall, it's not as if you can ever succeed in the art of seduction, the opposite sex isn't going to care much for a child," Cassians death grip on the blade tightened, as Cassandra ran his hand through his own hair, pushing it up from his face, "...Of course, you're not interested in the opposite sex, are you?"

That was it, He lunged forward, his knife sliding up to Cassandra's neck in a heartbeat, seconds away from slicing his throat. Zenopia, who had been putting up quite the fuss in the background, stepped forward, laying a hand on Cassians shoulder.

"If a trump card attacks their superior his life is forfeit. You know that."

Cassians heavy breathing slowed, and he lowered the knife, never taking his eyes off of Cassandra's smug expression. Once he'd slid the knife back into his coat, Cassandra turned on heal, strolling out of the room.

"Oh... Cassian?"

The 'boy' turned back to the doorway. Cassandra has stopped, though he didn't bother looking back at the subordinate.

"That superior you think you're protecting is staying with me," A sick grin spread up the corner of his mouth, "You... won't be hearing from him in awhile."

With that, he continued his walk down the hallway.

"...He said nothing of that to me!!" Cassian yelled harshly after him.

"That would be because... You don't need to know." By this point, he had turned a corner and was out of site. A few drops of blood fell to the tile floor from Cassians hand, as his own nails broke the skin of his clenched fists.

"...That was a good choise," The Hermit remarked, stepping towards, "The man's not worth it."

Cassian let his hands fall open, finally, his heart slowing as he stepped back and fell into the closest chair. Was Cassandra not worth it? To him, it seemed worth the risk. The humiliation that bastard had caused him, the pain he'd been causing Jizabel...

Jizabel?!?

"That superior you think you're protecting is staying with me, You won't be hearing from him for awhile."

Cassian stood abruptly, almost knocking the chair over as he did so.

"Damn!" With that, he fled the room without another word, running down the hall and towards Jizabels quarters...

-----

Cassian pulled a towel off the closest shelf, rather irked that he had to stand on his toes to reach it. Without a word he marched out of the small bathroom, and tossed it onto Jizabels head, proceeding to pat dry as much of the mans hair as he could... A rather monotonous task, considering the length of it. Jizabel raised a hand, batting him away.

"Don't bother, It will dry on it's own."

Jizabel was sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, a book in one hand, the other hand holding his kimono closed in an almost paranoid fashion. Cassian wasn't sure if he was even reading the book.

"You'll come down with a cold..."

"I don't care."

Silence fell between them, as Cassian pulled the damped towel down from his head, meekly obeying him, though his better judgement always told him not to. Jizabel turned a page on the book, although his eyes never moved as one would if they where actually reading. Cassian leaned over infront of him, pulling the novel from his hand and tossing it to the foot of the bed. His expression didn't change. Cassians eyes narrowed, and he got up from where he was sitting on the bed, moving to stand right infront of the younger man.

"...Quite acting like you're all alone, because you're not. I'm here."

Cassian reached his hand out, running it gently across Jizabels cheek before lifting his head up to face him.

"...I'm here," he repeated sincerely, a desperate look in his eyes. Jizabel finally brought his own cold eyes to meet Cassians, his expression as solemn as ever, but with abit more emotion then normal.

"...I..I know," He swallowed, fighting back another wave of tears as he pushed Cassian away from him. He didn't want to feel this way, and he didn't want Cassian to see him like this... Granted, from what Cassian had witnessed earlier it was too late for that. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't it all just end? He bit his lip, several salty droplets falling onto his lap. Cassian sat down beside him again, resting a hand on his shoulder just as a nervous smile formed on the younger mans face. "....I...I'm a complete... m-mess tonight, aren't I?" He murmured. Once more, Cassian lifted his hand up, turning Jizabels head to face him.

"Don't worry about that."

Jizabel didn't draw away from him this time, and instead leaned forward, resting his head on Cassians small chest.

"...I..." He sobbed, as he weakly wrapped his arm around the older man, "...I....hate you..."

His words where more of a choked whisper then anything else, but Cassian heard them rather clearly. Cassian remained silent, trying to think of the best response, but when no such response came to him he simply returned the embrace, pulling Jizabel closer to him.

"....I don't understand," Jizabel whispered, burying himself in Cassians warm shirt. The older man sighed, shaking his head.

"...I don't either. I really don't." He remarked, honestly, as he stroked the younger mans damp hair.

"...Why... are you doing this...?"

Cassian didn't respond. Frankly, the question didn't need an answer, it was fairly obvious, although Jizabel wanted one desperately. Finally Cassian spoke, though not giving the answer that the Doctor had longed for.

"I told you earlier that I wouldn't treat you like a child anymore... Maybe you're right about people, because... I lied. I can't stop treating you like something you are... I can't just...."

He stopped, when he realized that the whimpers and sobs had ceased, and he looked down to see that Jizabel had simply fallen asleep in his arms. He swallowed, somewhat perplexed, and overall worried to have seen the Doctor in this state to begin with, but nevertheless...

He carefully sat up, gently lying the doctors head on the bed, and laying a blanket over him. He walked over to Jizabels desk, removing the chair from beside it and setting it down by the bed. He paused, thinking for a moment before bending over and picking the book he'd taken from Jizabels hands up off the floor, flipping it over to look at the title.

Paradise Lost.

He yawned, opening it to the first page and starting to read, every so often glancing to the doctor, only to find him just the way he was five minutes ago. He wouldn't leave him tonight, he didn't want to leave him at all anymore, whether it was paranoia or natural instinct. Right now he was exhausted, wanting nothing more then to climb into that bed beside him and get some much needed rest... Yet he couldn't bring himself to sleep, not yet. So he sat back and read. Half an hour passed before a distressed cry came from the bed, and he tossed the book down, standing abruptly and leaning over to find that Jizabel was still asleep, although it was much less restful then it had been before. He sat back down on the bed, laying a cautious hand on his shoulder, unsure whether to wake him or leave him be. He lifted the blanket, pulling it up to cover Jizabel again, for he had tossed it off in this sleep, and after a few minutes of silence the worst of that particular nightmare seemed to have passed. Cassian gently ran the back of his hand across the doctors face, and, surprised by how cold it was, laid down beside him, pulling him close. He was still rather deep in sleep, Though Cassian had decided that if another dream like that where to occur, he'd awaken him, although he hoped his superiors slumber would be restful for the remainder of the night.

Even in your dreams they're still hurting you...

"I won't let him touch you again."

He said, before sitting up and blowing out the candle on the night stand.

-----

Cassian stepped cautiously into the doctors room, eying everything from his work desk, to his bed, to the kimonos strewn carelessly over his dresser. He always felt strange in here, and at the moment he couldn't decide if it felt worse when he was alone in here with Jizabel, or now, although in both occasions he just felt like an unwanted disturbance. Nothing seemed to have been moved, and he felt like leaving it at that. Perhaps Cassandra had just been trying to get to him... but why would Cassandra lie about that? He wouldn't, there was no way he would. Cassian swallowed, closing the door behind him and crossing over towards his superiors desk, shuffling through the drawers to find that nothing had been moved... Closing the drawer roughly, he continued to Jizabels nightstand, a grim expression coming over his face. The spare pare of reading glasses that usually stayed on that small table was missing, as where the various scalpels and other medical instruments that used to call this room home. He swallowed, walking to the dresser and pulling it's drawers open, to find that nothing had been removed from them.

He had left in a hurry, hadn't he?

Cassian swallowed, sitting down on the edge of Jizabels bed, resting his head in his hands. Now what was he to do? Was there anything he could do? If the doctor had chosen willingly to do go, then why should it be his concern? ...Because it was just like Jizabel to do such a thing, that was why.

He shuddered, thinking about how long it had been since they'd last spoken. It was around Eight o'clock last night, he had been going out...

Why didn't I follow him?

"...You didn't follow me when I went out, either."

"No, I thought you wanted to be alone."

"...That doesn't usually stop you."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he got up from the bed, trying to shake that memory from his head. He'd made that mistake this time, and times before that, he wouldn't be making it again. He'd just put his hand on the doorknob when one of the Doctors notebooks caught his eye. His hand fell from the knob and he walked back to the desk, picking it up and looking through it. The book itself was littered with medical notes, and a few sketches of doves, the art itself of a high standard, but what caught his eye where the pieces of paper that had been tucked into it...

"I fetched the supplies you wanted They are in the morgue ~ Cassian"

A somewhat confused look spread over his features, and he set the note down, moving on to the next few.

"Don't overwork yourself today Get some sleep. ~ Cassian"

"I cleaned your work space abit Your notes are stacked in the corner. ~ Cassian"

"Went out Getting dinner. Will return shortly ~ Cassian"

"Your glasses are on the table You left them in the morgue. I thought you might need them. ~ Cassian"

Cassian looked down to see several more notes of this nature lying on the desk, and after thinking for abit he was able to recall just when he'd written each of them. Had... Jizabel gone out of his way to save these? His expression softened, as he tucked them back into the notebook and left it on the table, at roughly the same place he'd found it.

He closed the door behind him, stepping out into the hallway. He was just on his way to the main hall when he heard footsteps and talking, and he stopped, leaning around the corner in attempts to see who it was... However, the approaching voices alone were enough for him to identify The Cardmaster and Hight Priest walking down the hall. He swallowed, stepping closer to where they were in attempt to hear the conversation, but instead, silence fell between the two of them. He froze, as one set of footsteps came down the hall alone, towards him.

Alexis narrowed his eyes, as he blew smoke out infront on him, his pipe grasped in his free hand.

"I wouldn't eavesdrop in the future, trumpcard."

Cassian stepped back, giving a curt nod before awkwardly walking past him, and Gladstone, in the direction towards the entry hall. That mans eyes where like hell itself, and he couldn't repress a shudder as he made his way past the two of them.

After he was a few feet away, they began their conversation once more, much to Cassians own dismay. What was going on? What where they planning? He took a breath, pushing the heavy doors to the building open and stepping out into the morning sunlight, a shocking contrast to the cruelty inside.

Wherever you are, and whatever he has planned for you, I won't let this go on. I will never let this go on.

"Say goodbye,
As we dance with
The devil tonight.

Hold on,
Hold on."

-----

The lyrics for this chapter are from Dance With The Devil by Breaking Benjamin. Ja.

I re-read some of volume 5 when I was writing this. It was rather fun. Everytime Cassandra spoke I thought about scanning the page and replacing his actual words with phrases like "I'm doing it for the Lulz" and horrible Aqua Teen Hunger Force quotes. (Cassandra is Handbanana. I'm not even kidding here... "Tonight... You"... "All I know is... 'ball'... and 'good'.... and rape.")

I also noticed this interesting bit when Riff is locked in that room... In the background there's this painting on the wall... I felt like his thought bubble should be changed to "There are no exits, and the window won't open... and this painting is scaring the shit out of me.... I need to get out of this room."

If you pick up that volume, and find that scene, you'll agree. Srsly.

Oh well, I pulled a quick update since I felt like it, although future updates will have abit of a break inbetween... I think I may have lost some readers by elevating the rating, since when people do that it leaves the main page: Out of sight, out of mind. ;-;

Oh well. Everyone should go read some of Sorryll's work... Like Sacrificial Lamb. It. Is. AWESOME.