Chapter II: Return

"You go," said Theta as they rose to their feet. "Mistress will not have gotten out of the ARC before the explosion. She will be inside, and she might be injured. I will find her. You go and find your Jenny Lewis."

Nick stared at the other man, trying to understand how Helen ever believed that clones could not think for themselves. "Thank you," he said again, not knowing what else there was to say.

There was an ominous creaking groan from overhead. "The structure will not hold, and the fire is spreading. Goodbye, Nick Cutter," Theta said, holding out one hand.

"Goodbye, Theta," he said, shaking the proffered hand.

Without another word, Theta turned and kicked down the office door, smashing it entirely off the hinges as if it were a piece of cardboard attached with tape. Just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the smoke. Nick stared after him for a minute, well and truly star-struck, but then the smoke got to his lungs, and he coughed hard, covering his mouth and nose with one sleeve. Picking his way across the wreckage, he headed for the nearest exit.

"Is everyone alright?" called Jenny Lewis as she looked around at the soot-stained escapees. A few were being loaded onto ambulances, but most were still on their feet. Turning in a circle, she scanned the crowds but she couldn't spot a familiar head of shaggy, dirty-blond hair. "Where's Nick?" she asked, looking around once more in case she'd accidentally looked over him. But she still couldn't spot him. "Nick? Nick? Oh, God, he must still be inside," she gasped as she turned her gaze back towards the flaming ARC.

"Professor!" said Connor loudly; he started to walk forward, venture back into the wreckage, but Becker gripped his arm tightly, yanking the young man back.

Jenny felt borderline panic begin to bubble up from within her, making her breathing come fast and shallow, heart pounding in her ears. She couldn't have lost him, not now. There was something important that she had to tell him, something that he had to know. Just as she was beginning to consider running into the burning building herself, she heard a voice thick with a proud Scottish brogue calling, "Jenny!" A tall figure made his way out of the smoke, coughing and fanning the air in front of him. All the panic rushed out of her body, leaving her almost dizzy at the familiar sight of him, soot-smudged and coated in dust but alive. She ran forward, all but leaping onto him in a ferocious hug. He wrapped both arms around her, and she felt the rumble in his chest that meant he was laughing. "Is it safe to assume you were worried about me?" he asked, breath tickling her ear.

Pulling back from the embrace, she swiped at her eyes to quickly brush away the tears gathered there, slapping his arm with the other hand. "Of course I was worried, you arse," she sniffled. "I happen to care about what happens to you."

She moved to hug him once again, but Lester stepped forward. "How do we know that you're the real Cutter and not another one of Helen's clones?" he asked.

"You're an arrogant prick," Nick shot back.

"It's the real Cutter. Stand down," Lester said to the soldiers who'd all aimed weapons at him, suspicious of the clones. "Where is Helen and does she have the artefact?" he asked.

Nick glanced over his shoulder at the ARC. "She's still inside somewhere, and I don't know if she has it or not," he replied.

Lester sniffed. "Fantastic. Captain Becker, have your men surround the facility. Nobody gets out without being cleared by you first, and you report everyone back to me and only me, understood?"

"Yes, sir," replied Becker, striding off to follow orders.

"Nick, there's something that I need to tell you," she said.

"What's that?" he asked, his smile replaced by a serious expression.

She slid her arms around him, stood on her toes, and brought her lips to his, kissing him the way she'd wanted to for a long time now. She didn't care that Lester could see, didn't care that Abby, Connor, and Sarah were only a few feet away, didn't care that the ARC was still in flames behind them. She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. Nick responded with passion, one hand on her back, the other buried in her hair. He tasted sweet and spicy at the same time, breaking apart only when oxygen became a necessity. "Well," he said at last. "That surely was something."

She smiled, heat rushing to her face as she turned around and found the others all staring at her. Sarah's jaw was hanging open, Lester looked exasperated and annoyed, Abby was actively inspecting the toes of her shoes, and Connor was grinning. "Don't you say a damn word or I'll shove you inside," warned Nick, jabbing a finger at the young man as he slid an arm around her waist, the two of them walking over to the medics; Connor held up both hands harmlessly. They made it about a metre away when she heard Connor say, "You owe me 20 quid, Abby. Told you she'd kiss him first," and Nick groaned aloud.

"You know that it's bad when they were actually betting on our love life," she said with a grin, tightening her arm around his waist possessively.

"Maybe. Think we should tell him about the bet pool on him and Abby?" he asked back in an undertone, and she giggled.

Theta strode through the smoke, squinting and covering his mouth with one sleeve. The heat didn't bother him, nor did the tell-tale creak and groan of a building on the verge of collapse. He had to find Mistress. He climbed over the ruins of the ADD and made it down the hallway that Mistress had run down. She could not have gotten very far; imagining the schematics of the building in his head, he picked the most likely route she would've taken towards the exit.

She was not hard to find, lying on the ground. In one hand, she clutched the protective case that held the artefact. There was a grubby mark on her cheek and a swollen knot on her forehead that was rapidly turning the plum colour of a bruise. As she began to shift and groan, he leaned down, taking the gun and the case from her hands. Sliding the strap over his shoulder, Theta pulled back the slide of the weapon and pointed it at her skull; strange to think that only a short time ago, he'd been doing the same thing to Nick Cutter. His finger was on the trigger, waiting patiently. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked dazed for a few seconds, hands curling as she realised what was missing. Suddenly, she became aware that he stood above her, and she turned over on his back. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Lower the gun, give me back the artefact," she ordered.

She really did have an annoying voice. How had Nick survived this for years? "No," he said. God, he loved that word, especially when saying it to her.

Her eyes went wide. "What did you say?" she whispered, truly caught off guard.

A smile came to his face. "I said, 'no'. I will not drop the gun, and I will not give you the artefact. No."

"Listen to my voice. Lower the gun, and give. Me. The. Artefact," she repeated, grinding the words out between her teeth.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore," said Theta, reveling in this - having the control, being the one who gave orders instead of simply following them. "Nick was right. I am not a machine, I am a human being, and you cannot order me about."

Mistress's - Helen's jaw clenched, muscle ticking in her jaw, and she nearly screeched, "You insignificant piece of meat, I created you!"

"You might have created this body, but you did not make me. Even if you were to kill me and clone a thousand more like me, you will never create me," he replied evenly. "So I will take this artefact, I will leave, and I will never listen to you again, Helen - " Theta hesitated slightly, changing his words. " - Ambrose. You don't even deserve his name," he said.

She hissed like a burned cat at the use of her maiden name. "Kill me then and be done with it, clone," Helen sneered, glaring at him.

He knew that he was she was trying to provoke him, but he didn't care anymore. His gaze moved to the gun in his hand, then he lowered it.

Helen laughed. "I knew that you were weak. At least the real Nick had balls," she said.

Theta chose not to correct her use of the past tense, let that be a surprise later on. "No. I'm not weak. I'm simply better than you. I refuse to sink down to your level, so I won't shoot you. But I will do this," he said, then drew back one boot and kicked her in the head; Helen's head snapped back hard enough to give her whiplash, eyes rolling back as she fell limp, sprawled unconscious. He briefly considered just leaving her there, letting her die in the flames. Still, some newfound part of him protested, straining against his vengeful thoughts. With a low sigh, he tucked the gun back into his belt, bent down, and grasped the collar of her shirt and jacket, and he walked out of the ARC, dragging her along behind him, not caring if her clothes tore on the debris or if she ended up bruised and sore. Emerging into the sunlight, he blinked at the sudden onslaught of bright light, taking in a deep breath of fresh air to cleanse his lungs of smoke. Looking down at his passenger, he sighed again, hauling her a reasonably safe distance away and leaving her slumped over in the space between two rubbish bins. If Captain Becker's men found her, so be it. He looked back at her. "And my name is Theta."

He heard the sound of boots on the pavement, growing closer and louder, accompanied by the voice of Becker shouting orders. Adjusting the strap of the case on his shoulder, Theta glanced back at the ARC once more before he took off. He didn't know where he would go or what he'd do, but that was truly the greatest thing. He could do whatever he wanted. No more orders, no more Helen. As Theta slowed his pace - he was a safe distance away from the ARC now - he noticed he was receiving more than a few odd looks. He still reeked of smoke and his clothes were torn in a few places. First thing is first. I need some new clothes, and then I am leaving England, he thought, but then he reconsidered, a smile coming to his face. There was still one more thing that had to be done.

Nick heard the knock on the door and groaned without opening his eyes. Every time. Every time, there always seemed to be a damn interruption. First it was the medics, then it was Lester phoning him, and now it was the damn door.

"Ignore it," Jenny urged, her fingers combing through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp.

God, it felt good when she did that, and he briefly considered doing just that, but for some ridiculous reason, he chose not to. "No, because they'll most likely knock again, and if it's Captain Becker, he might break the door down," he said, pushing himself up off her. Jenny whinged as he pulled on his shirt and headed out of the living room towards the front door. "Whatever you're selling, product or religion, I really am not int - " His words cut off as he opened the door.

There was nobody there. Cautiously, he leaned out the door, looking both ways. There was not a single living soul out on the street at this hour, except for the stray cat that liked to get in his trash bins. Okay...that's not weird at all, he thought, about to close the door, but then his gaze dropped downwards. On the front step was a long black case, smudged and scratched. He bent down, picked up the case, and gave it a shake; something rattled inside. Curious now, he pried off the lid and shook the object out into his hand. It was the artefact, whole and secure. Nick's mouth fell open slightly, stunned. A small square of folded paper slid out of the case and fell into his palm. Taking the paper, he tucked the artefact under his arm and unfolded it. His eyes raked over the words once, and a laugh bubbled up out of his throat, shoulders shaking:

Nick,

I thought you might like this back. Good luck, and try not to have anymore buildings explode.

There was no signature, just one symbol, one Greek letter at the bottom of the page: Θ.