A/N Hello people. I am so sorry this took so long. I lost my flash drive, and it has all of my story planning on it, so I had to wait till I found it again to update. But here it is! :D There will only be one or two chapters after this. I will honestly say that other than spell-checking, I did not go over what is in this chapter. I know that I should, but I really don't have the time. I am struggling to update at all. So, anyway, here it is. And I hope that despite my lack of reading it is exciting for you. I really did work hard on it.

I would like to point out that much of what happens in this chapter with the different characters is all happening at the same time, and so not much time goes by. It should be exciting. Are you ready? :)

Chapter 22:

Previously With Makaila:

As they reached the door, Mark stopped and looked into the room. Gripping the com tightly in his hand, the only hint to his emotions (Ash quickly filed this away); he looked at the boy and dismissed calmly, "kill him."

Makaila couldn't breathe. She didn't know what to do. There had to be something. She couldn't be helpless. She had never been helpless before. She realized why now. It was because he had always been there. He had always shown up, always protected her. She had never been in danger because he had never been helpless. He could do anything. He could . . . Wait . . .

Why had he never been helpless?

It was with an almost audible click as everything came together for her. As the grunt set the needle against his arm, and the boy's eyes widened in panic and his mouth opened in a silent yell, she opened her mouth, went against everything Ash had told her not to do. . .

. . . and screamed with everything she had.

Now:

Makaila's screaming only rose in pitch. The grunt with the needle at the boy's wrist winced against the loud noise. Looking to her in annoyance he left the tip of the needle balancing against the boy's skin without a care. Looking at Makaila-tied to the chair, mouth open as she continued to push the noise out loudly, eyes closed-he missed the strange almost sporadic twitching coming over the boy- the wincing of his expression, as if waking from a dream of pain. Still glancing at Makaila, he looked to the grunt next to him to find him shamelessly covering his ears as he stared at her as well, face crumpled in aggravation for his hurting ears.

The grunt frowned and was just about to tell the grunt to do something when Makaila ran out of air and stopped, breathing deeply and gasping for the air she had been deprived. The grunt looked at her, nodded, and went to return to his job, but winced again when she started the scream over. Louder.

He stiffened, teeth gritting in annoyance at the pointless distraction that wasn't going to amount to anything but a headache for all of them. Finally the ringing in his ears became too much and he snapped, turning to the grunt beside him-who was once again holding his hands over his ears. "Do something! Don't just stand there staring at her! She's your prisoner! Shut her up!"

To his relief, instead of yelling back the grunt nodded, dropped his hands, and started over to her, apparently just as aggravated as he was. Nodding, he looked back down to the boy.

As the second grunt neared her, Makaila finally stopped screaming. She looked up at him, breathing deeply and ignoring the pain in her throat. He was blocking her vision of the boy. She tried to look past him when he didn't move as but he brought her attention back to him with a dull tone. "Done now?"

Makaila's hands gritted into fists behind her back. What an absolute jerk! Her friend was lying on a table being killed and the grunt treated her as if it were no other than a day-to-day occurrence, one that he couldn't wait to be over with. Gripping her fists tighter, she gulped and opened trembling lips. She knew this was going to hurt-in more ways than one. But it had been too long since she had stopped yelling. He might be hurt now, and she couldn't see him to find out. Taken over by the idea, she prepared herself-let go of the fear and spoke the harshest sentence she could think that might hit him. "So you're a rocket crony? Was it their idea or yours to make you their pet?"

She had been right about it hurting.

Along with her throat burning she felt the hard sting of a hand hitting her cheek. The chair lifted off its side and for a moment she worried it would topple completely before it stabled again. She winced and choked, cutting of. Reminding herself that it wasn't deception, she made sure she didn't hold back the reaction of pain at all. The yelp of pain and fear was real, and loud.

A crash sounded behind them and the grunt turned quickly, Makaila raising her head to see with hope. The grunts eyes widened. For a moment he only stared in disbelief and shock.

His back to them, standing above the fallen grunt was the boy, arms red where the straps had been holding him down (said straps were now ripped and torn). As the grunt stared, still too shocked to move, knowing that pulling the straps off was impossible but he had done it, the boy turned faster than (again) should have been possible, and stared with a look that would have had him fearing if he wasn't already.

One moment of silence, and then the boy's eyes swiveled to the girl behind him-though not an inch of his body moved-and his eyes went wild with a strange fire.

The grunt didn't have to wonder what would happen.

The man previously standing over the boy pulled himself off the exam table behind them all (which now lay broken on the ground beneath him). Wincing, he pulled himself up unsteadily and swayed, then looked down. With trembling hands he pulled the needle that had been in his hands from his shoulder. Staring at it in shock and fear, he paled, eyes widening, and slumped to the floor.

The other grunt nearly paled to match the quickly fading color.

Makaila closed her eyes as the boy ran forwards, startling even her. She heard the thump of the man's body hitting the floor almost the same moment she felt hands on her upper arms.

Her eyes were still closed. She knew it was ridiculous. The moment had passed but she was still shaking, trying to ignore the way his eyes had looked-the death of the grunt across the room-the possible death of the grunt now at their feet.

A soft hand cupped and ran lightly over her cheek, the cheek that had been hit, and she remembered why she had done it. . . . It had worked. Slowly opening her eyes she looked up and was shocked by the raw emotion in his eyes, so much emotion. Slight fear and so much concern, both tempered by an almost wild look that passed in and out of his eyes so quickly it was shocking; as if somebody else where showing their emotions the same time that he showed his.

The Instinct was pounding through his veins and making him furious. But him. Just him-he was afraid.

The real him had always been afraid. That was why nobody but her would ever see him. Why he hid from Team Rocket. Why she would never be able to share him with her family . . . . She focused on his eyes again, finding the same emotions, but seeing his eyelids drooping in between expressions. Confused, she whispered, "alright?"

A tired nod in reply, not the most promising. Now able to focus on the way she felt, she shifted uncomfortably, twisting her hands in the cuffs. The drooping eyelids disappeared as quickly as they had come as he dropped to the grunt at their feet and searched through the grunt's pockets, pulling out a key and disappearing behind her back. The click was sooner than she had expected. She looked to the grunt lying at her feet before she thought to move. He wasn't dead. Looking up she saw the other grunt and felt strangely numb.

It was because of her.

A hand laid itself on her shoulder. She turned up. The boy was looking down at her wrists, but looked up and met her eyes with a tired smile of reassurance. It meant the world to her.

She found it funny in that moment. Words sometimes meant nothing to her but with him a nod was always enough. It was all that he could do, but she knew it. She didn't know what it was, only that it was something deeper than speech. It didn't have a name. She understood him, with no words. The idea of his death had scarred her. . . . She couldn't live without him.

He saw the look on her face and tilted his head to the side in concern. Makaila shook her head lightly and smiled back. "It's okay," she whispered. He frowned, looked between her eyes for a few more moments with his striking but unnatural blue ones, and then rose from behind her.

Makaila was unsure to how the room had come to feel so strange. She had saved his life. He had just injured two grunts only partly on his own accord (one dead by mistake-she thought). They should feel something . . . more. But the room felt calm and numb. Why numb?

She again caught his gaze as he stood above her. He nodded towards her wrists and she lifted them, finding the skin red but otherwise unscathed. "I'm alright," she whispered. He frowned at the statement and reached out again, only a couple of inches from touching her red cheek but dropping his hand at the last moment. She took in the look of defeat. "It's alright," she stated again, this time a bit impatiently. "Really." He shook his head. "It was worth it . . . For you. . . ."

At this he looked carefully up, a look of calculation battling with a rising look of wonder. He stood up a little straighter. Looking strait at her he gave one stiff shake of his head. Makaila let out a huff of exasperation. "Listen to me." Standing she paused, taking in his posture. He looked down, avoiding her gaze. With pursed lips she reached forward and grabbed to his upper arms, her hands gripping to the taught, unnaturally muscled skin. "You are worth so much more than this."

The boy was looking at her hands, she noticed. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable she went to remove them, but he grabbed one hand in his almost desperately. Staring at the hand he turned back to her eyes, flashing only a quick look at her cheek.

With a look of annoyance she leaned forward and placed a rushed kiss on his cheek. Pulling back she stated, "it's a handprint. For your life. It was worth it."

The boy's stared back with wide eyes. Her mouth twisted in the beginnings of a smile, a small blush starting. "I have to get my father out."

He nodded, then quickly shook his head to pull out of the daze. Turning swiftly without further ado, he knelt down beside the fallen grunt. Makaila watched in confusion as he lifted the grunt from the floor by his collar, and-a look of immense satisfaction in his eyes-(leaning towards the wild look when the Instinct had taken over), hit the grunt over the right side of his face-the same side he had hit Makaila.

The grunts eyes fluttered as he winced and opened bleary lids. For a moment he only stared dazedly, and then his eyes widened as he took in the boy and his face paled once more.

"Hi," Makaila stated beside him.

The grunt looked to her, surprised to see her, but still seemed a bit nervous to speak.

"I need your help with something," she went on.

He began to come back to himself and furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"

"Where did they take him?"

He blinked, looking sincerely flummoxed. "What are you talking about?"

Makaila glanced at the boy. He was holding the grunt firmly, but she could see the underlying lack of confidence. She frowned. They needed the grunt to be wary of them so that he would speak. To make up for any slipping, hoping that the boy would stay above his discomforts, she stated, "This guy here that took you down?" She stopped to lean on the boy's shoulder with a smile and went on confidently. "He's a test."

The grunt stayed in the fearful stance, eyes widening marginally "F-For-"

"To protect me. And you go and do what you did. Nice move on your part." To further make her point she rested a bit more fully against him and rested a hand under her chin, leaning onto it with a smirk.

The grunt stared at her for a moment, then his teeth came out with the realization and he pulled forward in anger. "You little brat You started it on purp-" A growl and as he was pushed harshly back to the floor. He paled as the boy stared down at him with twitching muscles from holding back, eyes flashing dangerously. Makaila stared over his shoulder at the grunt, who ground his teeth and hissed, "call him off."

Makaila frowned, eyebrows coming together and looking insulted. "He's not a dog."

The grunt's teeth ground harder. "That's not the point."

Makaila frowned deeper. "I know."

"So call him-"

"No."

"No?" He hissed.

She nodded. "I need to find my father. You can tell me where to get him."

The grunt scoffed, almost looking humorous (though it was hard to be with the boy hulking over him). "You think Mark is going to tell me his plans?" He looked strait at her despite the hands in his shirt. "Are you crazy? Half of his damn plans are made up on the spot."

Makaila frowned. "Stop cursing. It's annoying."

The grunt blinked, eye twitching. "Seriously? After all that's happened, you come and you wa-" A quick shake to his body brought him back to the reality of who, if not what, was holding him down and he rushed. "Okay! Okay! Da- Got it."

Makaila nodded swiftly and rushed on. "You have to know something. Somewhere he might take him if nothing else."

The grunt seriously paused, as the words caused him to think. But after a few moments they were back to square one as he spluttered and shook his head. "Why would I know? They don't care about me!" With a glare he repeated. "I'm their pet right? Who would tell me anything?"

Makaila wasn't sure what the uncomfortable feeling in her gut was at those words but she didn't have time to acknowledge it. "We have to go." When he only stared back with a glare, Makaila turned to the boy. He looked up to her and they silently stared at each other before Makaila rose and proclaimed. "Time to go. You'll just have to take us to anywhere you can think of."

The grunt's mouth dropped open.

Previously With Ash (feel free to skip italics):

Reaching another small table, Mark turned the pack over and emptied it. There was jingling and tinkling as the smaller weapons fell onto the table and then a large thump that made him stop with the bag still tilted over the table.

Laying on it was a large orb and he hardly dared to believe it.

Grant moved forward to stand beside Mark and look down at it. "It can't be," he stated quietly.

The door swung open and a grunt appeared, out of breath and mussed. Taking only a moment to catch his breath (not long enough for he was still breathing heavily when he stood), and bowed quickly. "Sir, his group has escaped. We're unsure as to how. We-We tried to contact you but the coms seem to be out."

Casey moved forward hesitantly, looking a little rushed. "Sir, we should use the orb now; in case of . . . interruptions."

Mark looked at Casey calmly and turned to Ash. After a quick but careful evaluation he spoke, "No."

"We'll not use it yet," Mark stated calmly.

"Why?" Grant couldn't help but ask.

"Because that's exactly what he wants," Mark stated with a point to Ash, though he didn't look in his direction. Casey and Grant did and Ash's eyes widened. The man was a tactician. What to do now?

"It's alright though," Mark went on. "We will do it eventually. When the time is right for us."

Ash trembled, thinking momentarily of the friends who were even now working and doing everything for this plan. He had to fix it. He had to fix it.

"So, why is Mark in charge?" Ash asked. Everyone in the room turned to look at him as Ash spoke for the first time.

Currently:

Grant glanced at Mark. Casey only continued to stare at Ash. For some reason they continued to just stand there and absorb the comment. Ash was thinking that it must not have hit home when Grant stated, "it doesn't matter what you think."

The comment brought even more thickness to the air. Ash gathered instantly that Grant was offended by the comment. He wasn't happy with Mark being above them. And now he was trying to mark off what Ash was saying, for what reason Ash wasn't sure. Most likely because he was aware that despite his protests, Mark was in charge. He held the cards.

Pulling these things together he glanced to Mark. The man only stared at him with a raised eyebrow, looking quietly amused. But Ash looked closer. The man had training but so had Ash.

Ash took in the stiff shoulders and the small quirk in the eye not upturned. This was quite a bit for Mark to show when he had been trained to not show anything. And it spoke volumes for how affected he was. Quickly Ash went on, attention again on Grant. "It's not as if you hold any standing with him. Acting as if you have a care for what he says doesn't change that you both know you don't."

Grant froze in the second step as he started towards him and Ash finished speaking. His chin clenched, other muscles tightening after. A moment later the muscles relaxed. Through clenched teeth Ash heard, "you will be silent now, or you will be forever silent."

"That's not your place to say."

Grant's hands formed fists at his sides. His gaze went from where it had been on Ash, to looking at the wall-attention obviously on the man behind him. "Is that so?" He stated calmly.

Mark's eyes narrowed. "It's not debatable."

Grant pulled in a quick breath, when it came out he had a smirk on his face and a calm demeanor. He turned with false respect and gave a quick bow of the head. "Forgive me. For the sake of debate," he moved from in front of Ash and gestured to him, "just what are you planning to do with him?"

Mark glanced quickly at him and back to Grant. "Whatever fits the needs."

Grant's expression lost much of its false joviality and Casey moved forward a bit. "Sir," Casey stated. "I thought . . ." Twitching a bit he questioned, "there was a plan, wasn't there?"

Mark stared at Ash for several moments instead of the two questioning him. His eyes narrowed. Ash kept himself carefully expression free. Finally turning to Casey he smiled lightly. "Yes there was. But there was a plan we were not aware of- and still are not. Therefore we proceed with caution."

Casey blinked, looking thoughtful. "Plan. . . "

Ash saw only one twitch in the corner of Mark's mouth. "The prisoners are gone and he is still here. Further more, " he turned to Ash and prompted Casey and Grant to do the same. "He purposefully asked a question that he does not sincerely want an answer for with obvious intentions." He smirked a bit, head high. "A weak attempt at distraction." Ash clenched his teeth but stayed unmoving and carefully silent. Mark's shoulders stayed tensed.

Casey turned with calculating eyes to Mark and stated, "But the question . . ." his arms came over his chest and for the first time in the previous hour his old ego seemed to be returning. "It wasn't . . . without merit." Mark remained unmoving, his eyes turning slowly to Casey's as he went on. "I am not saying that it was not due, I am simply saying it is quite . . . remarkable."

". . . Remarkable." Mark's expression went dark, the first sign of true emotion (though he did not look directly at Casey). His next words were asked in a poisonous whisper. ". . . Remarkable that your old test subject rose above you, you mean?"

There was a sudden chill in the air. Ash could not help the surprise. The man had been a test subject! Looking him over as realized what he hadn't before, that despite his tall stature and regal aura he had a definite lack of build typical to many grunts put through training. So how had he risen above Grant and Casey? Was it all in his genius?

Mark glanced at the orb behind them prompting Grant to do the same. "We should do it now," Grant stated.

"Again," Mark stated, and there was a definite coldness to his tone that showed through, "that's not for you to decide."

Ash was momentarily stunned silent with the realization of what Mark had come from. For a moment, he could almost understand. To rise from something like that had to have taken strength. But he remembered Alexi. She still had fits of fear, but she had never done anything negative to people around her with what had been done to her. And this wasn't about Mark, this was about his friends and Makaila. Mark had just dismissed the boy with her to be killed with a wave of his hand. Whatever consciousness had once been there . . . it was gone now.

It was this-the thought of what could happen to his friends and family and what may have already happened to the boy Makaila was so fond of-that gave him the mental state he needed to do the only other thing he could think of. Mark could see steps ahead of him, seemed to know Ash's next move before he did. But nobody could see through anger or fear. It wasn't something Ash wished on anybody. But he wished his friends' death far less.

"So you just make all the decisions, then? None of you talk about it?" Again there was uneasiness in the room.

Mark's back was to him but when he spoke there was an undercurrent of annoyance. "We know what you are attempting. Stop trying."

Ash paused. "I discussed with those who came with me. There were a lot of heads involved. . . . You would be surprised how much farther you can come with the ideas of more than one." Pausing to check his standing and watch the strange emotion in the room he stated, "Do you all just take orders from the one you used to lead?"

This was what garnered the first obvious annoyance of Mark, who spun with on his heal to glare. "If you do not be quiet I will make you."

Ash continued, "How did you come to be above them? You were a test subject weren't you? Are you aware that we have one with us?" There was a small flash of emotion in Mark's eyes. "Are you so desensitized that you would throw her and others back into something you feared?"

Mark stiffened, with far eyes he stated, "there is no fear."

"Is." Ash emphasized. "But there was. And there's no shame in it. A person who can live that life style without fear has either lost their humanity or their sanity."

Mark didn't seem to know how to take this. With real emotions on his face he seemed to battle between angry and confused. Coming back to himself he straitened and placed the mask of indifference upon his face once more. "You know nothing," he stated calmly, "to make such a statement."

"Or perhaps you've simply slipped to insanity," Ash answered. Then glancing at the others he stated, "you would follow an insane man? It is easy to see how he could become that way isn't it? As a test subject? There must be some chemical that would do it . . . "

As Casey and Grant gathered the truth of those words or how they could be used against him, Mark's emotions came to the surface. Hands clenching at his sides, eyes coming open he walked briskly across the room. Visibly stopping himself when he arrived before him he stated, "The only reason I'm keeping you alive now is so they can see you die . . . and know that there is no point to their efforts." Then with still hard eyes, "if that won't stop them nothing will." He glanced behind him, still feeling the tenseness of the room, and in a rare moment of emotion went on, "don't worry about your daughter. If anything happens to her, you'll be gone before you would know it." Allowing this to sink in, he turned from Ash and walked back across the room.

"Wait. . . "

Mark paused. The voice had come from Eitan who had up to this point been silent. His posture was calm but his eyes flashed with something strange, hands twitching at his sides. "You're going to kill her?"

Mark took in Eitan's posture, his face, his eyes, all with a careful gaze. Slowly he replied, "it is a possibility." Eitan noticeably stiffened, but nodded and stepped back. Mark continued to watch him with interested eyes.

And then the door opened.

Makaila huddled behind the boy as he pushed the grunt in front of him. There was definite nervousness in the grunt as he moved forward, the boy's hand at his back, but there was a certain stance to his walk that made Makaila curious.

"I don't know where to go," the grunt stated calmly when the stood in the empty hallway. The boy seemed to have reached his limit. He gave a fast shove to the grunt's back. 'Choose one,' the shove stated.

The grunt half rolled his eyes and turned down both hallways in exasperation. He paused one long moment down the right hallway, and with another shove swiveled right and began to walk. "I won't know where to stop." When he was met with no response from the two behind him he rolled his eyes. "I'm. Lost." The two words were enounced clearly. "You've got the wrong guy. I can't help you get where you're going. They don't like me. They don't care about me. . . For crying out loud! Da-" The shove this time said, "shut up and walk," a brief end to his near cursing. He gritted his teeth and moved quicker in annoyance, prompting the two behind him to move quicker.

After a moment he chanced, "when we arrive?"

Makaila looked to the boy for reassurance, but as this wasn't a question he could answer with a shove she spoke for him, "we'll see."

A frustrated near violent shake of the head was the grunt's reply.

"Brock, sit down."

Brock didn't complain as he sat and hissed out a breath of pain. Finally shaking his head, he stated, "I can't go on anymore."

Skye frowned. "You made a promise."

Brock gave a half glare. "I didn't pass out."

"Stop it, Skye."

Skye's eyes swiveled to Alexi and he shook his head and dropped it. "So what do we do?"

Gary was looking at Brock with a wince but answered, "you'll just have to be fast."

Skye rolled his eyes. "There was a point to all four of us going. I can't relay a message and help take down grunts at the same time."

"Like I said," Gary stated, glare swiveling to him. "You'll have to be fast."

Skye and Gary stayed glare-to-glare for a moment before Skye sighed. Gary went on, "the rooms are close by, only two halls. You'll just have to run."

"It'll look suspicious."

Gary glanced at Alexi. "Not if you have a prisoner with you."

Alexi blinked. "I have to be in the control room. And if Casey sees me he might ask me to stay."

"Good point," Gary stated. He looked to Skye. "Leave her outside the room. Don't let them see her. Just use her as an excuse if a grunt tries to stop you."

Alexi sighed. "I guess I have no choice."

"Here," Skye pulled the gun off the rocket outfit and handed it to Brock. Brock stared at it silently till Skye said, "just in case." Nodding finally, he took it and held it loosely in his lap.

"Alright time to go." Gary rose and glance around them. The halls were long and there weren't any nooks. Checking the surrounding doors he found one open and started back to Brock. With Skye's help they walked him into the room. "We'll be back," he stated to Brock.

"I would think so," Brock stated.

Alexi smiled painfully, "stay awake."

He nodded. "Don't worry about me." Alexi nodded back with the same expression and Gary shut the door.

"Let's hurry."

There was only one more hallway before they reached their destination. "This is it?" Alexi asked.

Gary nodded as Skye frowned. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

Alexi frowned. "No."

Both Gary and Skye blinked and looked to her. She shrugged. "He asked."

"Great," Gary stated. "Well, nothing to do about it now." He quickly opened the door and stepped back.

As the door swung open a group of heads popped up in surprise to stare at them, almost all of them wearing rocket outfits. Alexi wisely stepped back to the side of the door as Skye and Gary entered.

Alexi involuntarily winced as she heard a grunt hit the floor, followed quickly by others. Of course, factually she had no way of knowing that Gary and Skye weren't the ones going down, but she just knew they weren't. Somehow, she knew they would win and this was the least of their worries.

"Alexi."

Skye's voice cut into her thoughts and she turned around the door frame to look in the room. She had been right, the grunts lay on the floor. One blinked dazedly and began to sit up. Gary quickly hit him over the head and he slumped back again. Alexi winced.

"Hurry up."

Alexi nodded to Skye and ran forward, passing both him and Gary to sit in one of the chairs before a huge control panel with one screen in the center. Sitting before it she paused and looked over the controls. She looked a bit out of place. Where four or five grunts or computer experts would sit there was only her. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, looking at the controls.

"What?" Skye asked as he and Gary moved beside her.

"They can't possibly need this many buttons!"

Gary sweat-dropped, (a nervous expression came over Skye's face beside him). "Um, Alexi, you're supposed to know all of this already."

Alexi paused, blinked, and looked over at him. "When did I say that?"

Skye's mouth opened to match Gary's. "It was implied!"

Alexi blinked again and looked at the control panel. Then raising an eyebrow, she looked back at the two of them. "I'm supposed to know all of this?" She asked sarcastically.

Gary stared a moment longer then groaned and stood fully, looking away. "Great." Skye frowned. Then with a sigh he stated in annoyance, "I thought you were supposed to be the genius programmer."

"Genius?"

"You ran away twice!"

"You're missing the point," Alexi stated with slight surprise at the two of them.

"What exactly are we missing?" Skye asked through clenched teeth.

She turned back to the controls. "I don't have to know everything to bring them down." Getting back into the familiar feel of escape she muttered, "I only have to know what I need."

Skye blinked. "Interesting," he muttered. He was aware he was wasting time, and he wasn't used to doing it, but now he was curious. "Was that what you told yourself when you would escape?"

Alexi nodded, still looking at the screen. "After the first few tries I realized that I was trying too hard. I didn't have to know everything, I just had to know enough. People assume that no one can escape here because they can't possibly know it all, but they don't need to know it all."

Skye was still curious. It was a strange emotion for him to feel towards Alexi. He stuffed the feeling away so she could work and stepped back to watch with fascination. She looked more as if she were discovering it all for the first time, but she didn't seem to be worrying about if she could do it. She was simply doing it. He frowned. How could somebody just know that they could do it? How had she gotten this good at it? It was somehow . . . aggravating. Or was it something else? Did it lie in what she had said?

After a moment Alexi frowned and lightly ran her fingers over the keys, looking at them rather then the computer screen, then she raised her gaze back to it and opened some kind of folder. A strange system showed on the screen. A maze of boxes connected by white lines. A short time later, Alexi announced, "I found it."

Gary dropped the hand he had been running nervously over his shirt and Skye stood up strait, grabbing Alexi's upper arm without preamble and pulling her surprised self right out of her seat. "Alright, time to go."

"Hey, wait a mi-"

Skye turned to Gary before she could continue. "Watch the computer. If we're not back in five minutes, do it yourself."

"That might be a little hard to explain . . . " Alexi muttered.

Skye sighed and Gary glared a bit. "Again, hurry."

Finally Skye nodded and turned to the door, an annoyed Alexi in tow.

Drake paused down the second hallway away from Michael and Taylor and ran over the directions and plan in his head again. Who could he actually help?

Could he help anybody really? He wasn't completely useless, was he?

The farthest back he could remember, Drake had felt empty. Moldable-like clay. His parents were good parents but they wanted the wrong things for him. Of course they didn't know that. He never spoke up. He allowed himself to be pulled whichever way he went. He never knew why; it was just the way he was. It could sound strange, seeing as how both his parents were extremely opinionated in their own ways. They always spoke up. Both of them. It was overbearing to him at times.

Maybe that was why he didn't.

And because he didn't choose anything for himself, his parents brought up their ideas. And he said yes, not because he wanted it, simply because it was there and he wanted to be good. He wanted to make his parents and the people around him happy.

It was because of this that he had come off as shy as a child. He wasn't shy, not really. He just never had anything he wanted to say. He didn't answer questions out of lack of courage, he honestly had no idea what he wanted, and he had no qualms against going with whatever was suggested. It was only as he became older, a recent development, that he discovered that he did have things he wanted. He didn't know specifically what they were with bigger decisions; but, he knew he would be able to choose something if only he was given the time to think something up.

He never seemed to be given enough time.

The smaller decisions were easier, but everybody was so used to him going along with everything suggested to him that it was a hard habit to break. And even with the small decisions, it took him a few moments too long to decide what he would like and he ended up taking the suggestions.

He wasn't really sure what was wrong with him. It wasn't really normal to not to be able to make any decisions, or to really honestly have no idea what he felt when asked. It wasn't normal. But it was him. And that was okay, wasn't it?

But that wasn't the point. He was supposed to be helping.

'Seventeen,' he muttered to himself as he passed another door. The number beside the door being the one he stated. He wasn't sure why he said it, he just did. And he could remember the number on every door he had passed. It was funny really. This hall started with seven and continued to twenty-one. The hall before had started on fifty-three and gone to sixty-four. It didn't make much sense. You would think they would be in order.

He sighed to himself and stopped walking. Skye's group wouldn't want his help. They were fighters and Drake obviously wasn't (though he didn't think that he was the worst fighter in the world). So that left Ash or his parent's group. He couldn't risk ruining Ash's plan, so he couldn't interfere with Ash. That meant that he had to find his parent's group.

The thought made him pause. Would he even be any help? What if he couldn't prove himself? And what if he ran into his parents and they tried to push him out of danger again?

"Fourty-two. . . " The words came without his conscious thought, and he paused and considered, glancing beside himself to see the number he had said aloud beside the door.

It was funny.

As Misty, Keagan, May, and Drew reached the top of the stairs they paused and looked at each other.

"We have to split up so everybody knows about the bombs," Misty stated.

"I'll warn Alexi and the others," Keagan said.

"We have to get the pokemon," Drew stated, moving towards May subconsciously, as if worried they would ask them to split.

Misty nodded. "I'm going to Ash."

The others stopped and looked at her together.

"Are you sure?" Keagan asked.

Misty smiled and nodded. "Really, don't worry. Ash is expecting me." Turning to run she stated. "We have about twenty minutes before those all go off. Think we can do it?"

"We'll have to." May stated.

"I don't think the bombs will take it all down by themselves," Keagan said. "We have 'till the end of Ash's plan, no further then that. It'll all really come down at that point."

Misty nodded. "Let's say twenty minutes then?" She smirked a little, then sobering she looked at them all. "Make it out. Be on time."

Drew nodded, more serious then he had been up to that point. "We will. Don't worry."

"You get out quickly too," May stated.

Misty nodded.

"Eighteen minutes?" Keagan asked helpfully.

Misty looked at him and sighed but nodded. "Okay, be fast. . . . See you all soon." With one last look she turned on her heal and ran down the hallway.

"Can we really let her go by herself?" May asked.

"We don't have a choice." Drew stated. He turned around the corner of the hallway to head in the opposite direction she had gone. May sighed and followed him as Keagan ran down the way they had come.

"Better make it back in one piece!" He called behind him.

Drew didn't pause to reply.

Skye held tight to Alexi as they neared the door where Ash was. Alexi crinkled her nose and tried to pull from Skye experimentally. He frowned and pulled back and she pouted. "I feel like a teen again." Skye successfully hid the smile. It was very like the first time Skye had pretended to hand her over to team rocket. She had tried to pull away then too. With a smirk he muttered. "Prisoners don't speak without permission, kid."

She frowned. "I'm not a prisoner. . . . And I'm not a kid."

A pause and Skye tried experimentally. "maybe . . . kid sister?"

Alexi froze, turning to him slowly. They had always had a strange sort of relationship. They tended to fight no matter who was talking. They just didn't get along. The idea that they were related, the revelation not long ago spoken, it was something neither one of them had known what to do with. Strangely, nothing felt like it had changed. They still felt the same. But now, with Skye's whispered phrase, Alexi was blown away. Skye would never have said something like that normally. Did it really affect him that much? And what was she supposed to think? He was her . . . brother? Big brother? Such a childish phrase. It would have meant the world when she had needed it. When she had been alone. But now? Now it was nothing but a lost past, and it was almost too much to face. Their parents hadn't cared about her, they had cared about him. With that knowledge she almost didn't feel like she was related to him. She felt parentless, some freak of nature, created rather than birthed.

"I . . . "

Abruptly her arm was shoved away. Alexi blinked, looking to Skye in confusion and hurt. Skye motioned with his hand and she knew he was telling her to move (so they wouldn't see her when he opened the door); but the lack of words or eyes on her made her think that something in her lack of response had stung him. She wasn't sure what to think about that, but it wasn't the best feeling.

Obediently she moved to the side and stood against the wall. Skye opened the door without preamble

This was it.