(A/N) Hey guys, it's time for the penultimate chapter of Phase One: Genesis, written for you by the fantastic BrambleStar14, who really pulls out all of the stops with today's update, featuring Agent California and an ever so psychotic Lt Ian Harper. Shit...gets...real. I think that's all I really need to say to get you hooked, and I'm not going to delay you any longer except to bid you a fond farewell until the finale goes up on Wednesday night.

Enjoy!


Chapter One Hundred and Two - His Past Revealed

Agent California

Written by BrambleStar14


"Kill you? I don't wanna kill you! What would I do without you? No, you complete me."- The Joker, The Dark Knight


Cal paced backwards and forwards within his room, thinking and thinking, over and over. It was harder than he thought it would be, when the whirl of his thoughts kept landing back on the one person locked within their brig. Harper was there. Finally, he was within Cal's reach. He paced faster still, staring at the floor, barely comprehending his surroundings, once again screwing up his face as he remembered the Director's words, uttered while sitting behind his desk, observing Cal over his glasses as he had delivered the verdict.

"I am sorry; Agent California, but I cannot grant you responsibility over him. Your experiences with him are too... personal. Agent Alaska will be overseeing this particular prisoner."

Cal's scowl deepened. Of course, Alaska got the job, not him. Too personal. Didn't the Director see that Cal needed to be there, had to be there! This endless waiting and wondering would kill him far more effectively than a bullet, if it continued much longer. He looked up, taking in the room around him at last.

"Cal? Have you been listening?" It was Mich, sitting cross-legged on his bed as she watched him warily, eyes alight with worry and caution. Cal knew he was worrying her, that he had been worrying her since they'd gotten back. Not only had his injury given her a scare, which he could appreciate, but his endless pacing seemed to be unnerving her. He could get that.

He stopped, watching her. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I'm distracted."

California looked at his watch again. Two hours and five minutes. That had been how long since Alaska went into the cell, the tools of his trade in his arms as he strode in. his fists clenched behind his back unconsciously as his eyes flashed in the light.

"Harper?" Mich asked with some concern. "Forget him. He's done now. Cal, whatever's happened, it's over." She stood up and walked over to him, grabbing his hand. "It's done. Forget it. Alaska will handle it."

Cal considered his words, before looking away. It wasn't over. It would stay with him until he died. And he refused to let it go.

"Alaska," he murmured, thinking hard about the unstable Freelancer. While he'd normally let them tear each other to pieces, he needed the finality. Badly.

Are you certain that's you talking? Or me?Cal scowled. Of course his other side would come back now of all times. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down before the dam burst like it had before with Ark.

He deserved it.

Running a hand through his hair, hissing with the sudden pain that had just begun running through his head, he turned away from Mich. He heard her cry of alarm from behind him, felt her hand on his shoulder, but was somewhere else at precisely the same time, looking at a mirror image of himself, arms folded.

Look, I'm fed up of you acting like some depressed asshole. Doesn't suit you and it's boring me. Just go and talk to him.

He considered this, before shaking his head rapidly and turning back around to Mich. He realized how scared he must be making her. Clearly, having Harper around was destabilizing him. He smiled weakly at her, trying to put her at ease.

"Right, I'm going down there. To Harper. Him and I need to talk." He grabbed her hand. "You can follow if you like, but it won't be pretty. At all." His grin took on a slightly vicious edge as he spoke.

"Cal-" she started, surprised, but cut off as he pressed his lips to hers gently, silencing her.

"See you soon." He smiled before turning and walking out, the automatic door hissing open before him like the maw of some great beast. He turned down the corridor, face stretched in a murderous grin, causing crew member and several Freelancers alike to move out of his way. However, as he entered the elevator, he saw a flash of blonde hair, turning to see Mich standing there, a smile on her face.

"If you're going down there, so am I," she stated simply. Cal couldn't help it, even in his current mood, and grinned at her happily. He didn't know what he'd even do without her around. He nodded slowly. It was all he could manage.

As the elevator doors opened, she slipped her hand into his as they set off. Eventually, once the silent trip had ended, they arrived at the cold steel door, leading directly into the cell block. Cal paused slightly, staring at it, breathing heavily. The closer he got, the worse the images and flashbacks running through his head became. If he knew it wasn't impossible, he'd swear that Harper was controlling his memories.

Eventually he pulled himself together and breathed in heavily, before walking into the sight of a camera positioned in the wall to the right of the door, waving at it, false grin in place. Moments later, a clicking sound rang out and the whole thing ascended into the ceiling slowly, allowing Cal and Mich access to the security booth, where a rather nervous looking guard was sat behind a desk, monitor screens surrounding him. Instantly, Cal walked over to him, rather nasty smile in place of his previous grin.

"What room is Harper in?" he asked nicely enough, but his tone made it quite clear what kind of mood he was in. The guard swallowed, looking at Mich for support, but received none for his troubles. He looked back at Cal slowly, his expression that of a man walking to the gallows.

"I-I'm sorry sir," he stammered, his voice higher than most. Cal reckoned he was one of the newer guards within Project Freelancer, only a kid. "But you aren't allowed in. D-Director's orders." His voice cut off as Cal leaned very slowly over the counter, getting as close into the guard's face as possible.

"Kid. I need Harper's location. Now." His tone dropped into something far more menacing, watching in slight satisfaction as the kid turned pale and turned to his cameras, scanning through.

"T-There. He's in Room 148, " Cal nodded his thanks and turned to Mich.

"Coming? Last chance to back out." She shook her head instantly, hand finding his again. He turned gleefully and walked down the corridor to the final door separating himself from Harper. It was about time. He took a deep, steadying breath, before pressing a code onto the keypad and opening the door.

The room was fairly small, dark walls and a bed against the wall, table next to it arranged with an assortment of tools Alaska had most likely placed there for intimidation. Cal internally snorted. Harper would likely not give a shit either way.

And then he saw him, breath catching as memories flooded his head and the voice began talking happily inside his head. Harper was standing against the back wall, hands cuffed to it behind his back, armour removed and wearing a torn shirt and ragged jeans, both already covered in blood. He looked quite unconcerned, bored even, as he watched Alaska preparing to begin cutting into his right arm, which looked...odd, the skin tone unnaturally pinkish, as apart from the pale skin of his face.

"That won't work," Cal spoke aloud, surprising himself by how steady his voice was. "The whole right arm doesn't have pain sensors. Besides, he hardly feels pain like us. Masochist." He tilts his head slightly, watching for Harper's reaction.

Harper looked up upon seeing Cal enter, and his whole demeanour changed. He stood up straighter and stared, mouth opening into an insane grin, eyes alive with madness. For a second, he saw Mich and Cal's hands joined and something dark flitted behind his eyes, before he smiled.

"Hey there, Jay. Been a while. Remember the last time we were in a prison cell? Good times, good times."

Alaska looked up at Harper in mild surprise. "He hasn't said a single word until you walked in," he comments monotonously, in that dead voice of his. "How did you know his arm was a prosthetic?"

Cal grinned, stepping forwards. "I know because I blew his real arm clean off." Alaska looked between Cal and Harper, still staring at each other, and nodded, before walking out.

"I'll let you two catch up," he murmured, before closing the door behind him.

There was silence for a second, until Mich spoke.

"Blew his arm off? You're him! The fucktard who gave him the burns! And ruined his chest! It was all you!"

Harper grinned at her. "You must be Michigan. You've still got taste, Jay." He stuck his tongue out happily at Cal. "But yes, I burned him. It was pretty funny though." He giggled to himself. "So, what can I do for you two? Or is this just a social visi-" The next words were cut off as Cal smashed a fist into Harper's nose, snapping his head to the side.

"Whoo!" Harper yelled, looking back and smirking. "Still hit as hard as you used to then. But seriously, that your best shot?" Cal smirked.

"Not by a long way, Harper," he spat, before launching another shot into Harper's stomach, who tilted his head, eyes alight with pleasure.

"Harper? Jay, I thought we were on first name terms. Don't tell me that's over, I liked you when it was "Ian" rather than "Harper." Or than when you just screamed."

Mich looked confused. "How well do you two know each other?" she asked tentatively. Harper looked at her slowly, before looking at Cal, grin widening.

"Oh, you didn't tell her?" Cal stood there, frozen, eyes stormy as his fists clenched. "I'm disappointed. Well, Mich, can I call you Mich?" He carried on before she could speak. "Well, Mich, we used to work together. Squadmates. Insurrectionists." He savours the word, looking at Cal, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "Nothing to say, Jay?"

Cal stood, frozen, while Mich turned to him, eyes wide. "Cal? This- this isn't true. Tell me this isn't true." He couldn't answer her, instead turning his head away, closing his eyes, unable to see the rage or disappointment in her face. "Why?" She eventually asked and he looked at her, startled to see her eyes filled with tears. Harper stood at the wall, grinning at him happily.

"You didn't know." He speaks slowly, and Cal could feel the happiness oozing out of him at the mayhem before him. "Well, you wouldn't be the first person little Jason here loved and lied to," he shoots a glance full of malice at Cal, who snarled at him, slamming a fist into his gut.

"Harper, no matter what you may like to think or believe in your warped, twisted head, I never-" He punched him in the face again and he felt Harper's nose break. "Loved you," he finished furiously.

Harper was still smirking. "Partially. You can lie to yourself but you can't lie to me, Jason. I know you too well for that. Far too well."

"You are insane." Mich finally remarked, staring at Harper in hatred. He looked at her, mildly surprised.

"Are you only just getting that? I thought it was obvious. Am I not obvious enough?" He looked disappointed with himself. "Damn. I thought I had it nailed. So, you don't know about mine and Cal's... backgrounds?" He grins. "Well, let me tell you all there is to know about Jason Shaw. Storytime! I love stories! Well, children, once upon a time, there was a little boy named Jason. He had an older brother named Mark, just two years older. And they played and had fun and loved each other very much!"

He made a mock 'adorable' face and Cal snarled at him, unable to move as pain split his head. Flashbacks.


"And one day, when little Jason was eight, this happy family was broken up."

"But Maaaark! I wanna be the one who fights the aliens!" Jason whined, chasing his older brother around their bedroom. It was nearly bedtime and Mark had stolen the spaceship again. He always did it.

"No! I'm the spaceman!" Mark yelled happily, red hair creating a blur as he shot past his little brother, waving the toy around tantalizingly. Jason dived for it, missing by inches, but laughing as Mark helped him up, still holding the toy out of reach.

The doorbell rang.


"See, Jason's mum and dad were Innies, though the children didn't know, and the UNSC decided to pay them a visit."

Harper's voice broke into Cal's thoughts as he clutched his head, falling against the wall, trying to drown out the memories Harper was torturing him with.

He could still see the door kicked down, hear the gunfire and the screams as his parents were shot in front of him.

"So, Jason and Mark grew up on Reach in some protection scheme or something, I don't know the details, and eventually they went to Club Errera, Mark as a bartender and Jason as a DJ. Life was good." Harper was staring at Cal hungrily, face still split with that damned grin, despite the blood dripping down his face from his busted nose.

"And then, for some reason I will never understand, Mark decided to join up with the Marine Corps. And Jason, being the younger brother, naturally followed him. So they joined up and were in the same squad. And they did the usual, killed Innies and all that wonderful stuff you lot get up to. Until one day, the entire squad got captured. And they were brought to me."

A sickening smile ran across his face as he looked at Mich, who glanced at Cal worriedly. His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white as his fingernails dug into the skin of his hand, breaking through the thin layers and releasing several drops of blood, trapped within his hand.

"So, you tortured him?" Mich asked slowly, looking like she didn't want to know.

"He did." Cal's voice cracked slightly. "Thing is, I may have slightly under exaggerated before. I told you I was there for three days. I was actually there for three months." Images ran before his eyes and a bolt of pain lanced yet again through his head.

I always enjoy hearing about this bit. Cal scowled again.

"It was so much fun!" Harper smirked at Cal. "See, Jason and his entire squad were... unreceptive. But since he was the youngest, I focused all efforts on him. I used many different techniques. Got to know him. He was certainly interesting."

Cal stumbled slightly, hands over his eyes as the memories threatened to overwhelm him.

"See, everything I did was effective in breaking him down in various ways. If you look at his body, you'll find the various scars I carved into him." Harper spoke with relish, staring at Cal happily, taking his reactions in, while Mich looked horrified. Almost out of instinct, Cal pulled up his sleeve, showing them the macabre scars and symbols running up his arm. Mich's eyes widened as she reached out, brushing her fingers over a few.

"But you know what hurts most?" Harper spoke conversationally, but Mich turned, fury in her eyes as Cal straightened up, walking forwards slowly. "Psychological damage. So, you see, I had a bit of fun."

Cal could still see it. All of it.

Harper had pretended, for almost a week, to be a UNSC spy. He had told him he wanted to help him escape. He was going to get him out. Jason, being the naive fool he was, had believed him. So, the two had planned and when Jason was almost at the exit, a searing pain tore through his calf and he collapsed onto the floor, bleeding from the shot as Harper laughed behind him.

He had pitted members of his own squad against each other and forced him to choose who lived and who died, on threat of killing Mark. Jason had been forced to decide between his friends and it had torn him apart each time.

Then there was the escape incident. And then his vision whited out as he was thrown into an inescapable memory, one of the ones that tore him apart every night.


Jason breathed heavily as he considered his plan. It wasn't perfect and it would defiantly hurt, but he saw no other way out of the small, grey, confined space he was held captive within. His leg had been shackled securely to the wall and there was no was he could remove his foot. Unless...

He looked at the length of concrete that had come loose from the wall after days of endless tugging. It was the only way he could possibly see himself ever escaping from the hellhole that the Innie, Harper, had placed him within. He was close to breaking. He wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified. So he had to escape, and soon.

Carefully, he placed the shackled foot against the wall, bracing it as he raised his other foot, angled towards it. Taking a breath and trying hard not to think, he kicked out, as hard as he could manage.

Pain speared straight through him and he screamed, louder than he had at any point so far, but he still continued, kicking again and again until he heard the loud CRACK! That meant his foot had broken. Whimpering, he manipulated the shattered foot through the manacle, before hearing someone approaching the door. Instantly, he closed his eyes, stifling the moans of pain in his throat as the door opened and the Innie ran in, staring at the scene in front of him in shock.

As he ran forwards, unsure of how to respond, Jason's eyes flew open and he lunged, knocking the Innie off of his feet and sending them both the floor. Pain ran through his leg again, but he carried on regardless, holding the man's gun hand down and bring the concrete pole down against his skull, once, twice, three times, until the man went limp and stopped moving, his cries ceasing as Jason staggered backwards, retching at the blood on the pole and leaking from the man's helmet and shattered visor.

Despite the pain and the horror at what he had done, he turned, stumbling down the prison corridor until he reached one of the doors containing Smith, one of his friends in the squad who was still alive. Barging his shoulder into the door, it opened, apparently already unlocked. Inside, he had two seconds to take in the sight.

Smith was in the chair, badly beaten, face turned to the floor. An Innie stood next to him, pistol raised. Jason didn't hesitate and fired, using the gun taken from the dead man in his own cell.

It wasn't until later that he realised that the Innie's hands were taped to the gun, and that the pistol was empty of ammo, and that 'Smith's' hands weren't tied. And that his hair was blonde, not brown.

Harper had set the entire thing up.


Cal brought himself out of the flashback, snarling, rage flooding his veins instead of blood, a red tinge filling his vision as he grabbed the nearest blade and swung it at Harper's chest, the blade leaving a wide cut, as Mich had just diverted his arm. Harper merely grinned, eyes lighting up at the slash.

"Having fun going through the happy memories?" He smiled benignly, as though he was merely talking about the weather.

"You shut the fuck up!" Cal screamed in fury, straining against Mich, who looked like she really didn't want to be holding him back.

"Awwww, Jay, I thought we had something special." Harper cooed. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about everything else?"

Cal's blood ran cold. Not here. Not in front of Mich.

"I don't know what you mean," he spoke slowly, trying to stop the rage from entering his voice.

Harper's grin took on a darker quality. "Oh, so you haven't told her? That's real interesting. If I had a girlfriend," he scoffed. "I'd tell her all about my ex."

Cal froze in pure horror as Mich stopped, stunned as she looked between the pair, eyes wide as saucers and face showing blank shock.

"W-what?" she choked out, staring at Cal in utter surprise.

"Yeah, surprising?" Harper leered, tongue hanging out slightly as he stared greedily at Cal. "Well, see, me and Jay here got, ah, real close in prison. Stockholm Syndrome took effect or something. I could make him scream like you'll never be able to!" He chuckled lowly, stopping to watch the aftershocks.

Cal felt sick with embarrassment and regret. He couldn't even move, and he could feel Mich's accusing gaze. He didn't think he could stand to see it. He turned away.

"Cal?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell me?" He couldn't tell whether it was shock, anger or betrayal in her voice. He didn't want to know. "Cal?"

"Yeah, Jay," Harper's smug voice filled his head. "Tell her why. Explain about all the times I had you pinned, screaming-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Cal screamed at him. "JUST STOP!"

Harper raised his eyebrows, making a big show of closing his mouth, eyes shining with pure malice.

"Cal?" Mich sounded nervous now. He couldn't blame her. "J-Jason?" It was the first time he had ever heard his name uttered by anyone other than Harper for a long time and it was this that made him speak.

"I didn't want to talk about it," he spoke calmly, trying not to show anger or terror or any of the emotions that were swirling through his head, trapped like flies in a jar. "Because I was embarrassed. About giving in. About letting him. About actually looking forwards-" his fists clenched again. "To when he would show up. "

He felt his eyes grow wet and he squeezed them shut, refusing to let Harper or Mich see them. This was not something they should see.

"And then of course, his entire personality split into two. Jason became two separate people," Harper supplied.

Oooooh! He's talking about me, isn't he!? Hello, Ian!

'He can't hear you, shut up.'

...That's rude.

"Haven't you ever heard him talking to himself? He's talking to his other half." Harper continued to Mich, whose face was draining of more colour by the second.

"Now, half is the part of him who enjoyed being around me, who fell for me, who took control and the other half is who he is now, the one who hates me."

Cal slowly turned to face him, trying not to show the pain in his head that symbolised his other half trying to take control yet again.

"So, this other half of his took over and essentially joined up with the Insurrection." Mich looked horror-struck as she stared at Cal.

"That's right." Harper confirmed. "I taught him everything he knows now. How to use blades, how to interrogate. How to have a good time," he smirked again.

"I swear to God, I will use everything you 'taught me' to put a blade through your heart!" Cal snarled, trying to get around Mich suddenly, who held him back quickly.

"Cal, calm down," she whispered. "It's fine. I understand. Please stop."

He tried. He tried so hard, but apparently, Harper was determined to ruin everything he tried to do that day.

"Of course, that's after you tested them on Mark." Cal froze again. "That's right. Do you remember that? When he tortured and hurt both of your's older brother? When he pretended that he was you? When he said he had been a traitor the entire time? Man, that was seriously hot." He leered at them again, staring with apparent hunger at Cal.

Cal lunged again, Mich pulling him back seconds before his blade could meet Harper's neck, an unconcerned look on the Innie's face. "Oh, and there was that time we visited that UNSC village. It wasn't particularly threatening, it was just there. And what he did, Mich, was he gathered everyone, and forced the adults to watch as he put all the children together, doused them with petrol, and he set the entire lot of them alight!"

Mich looked horrified, but continued holding him back. He couldn't help noticing her grip slackened slightly.

"So then, he shot the adults in the legs, one at a time, and led the trail of petrol to them. He gave them all five minutes and told them to run away from the petrol. But of course, none of them could run, so he took great pleasure in setting them alight as well. And eventually, there was nothing left!"

Harper gloated happily, watching their faces, drinking in the horror happily.

"I still escaped." Cal spat. "I got away from you. Now, how did that feel, Ian?" For the first time, a scowl flitted across Harper's face, his body tensing slightly. "Yeah, so what this scum tried to do was eventually make me shoot Mark. The other me put a gun to his head and tried to pull the trigger, but he couldn't do it. Because I refused to let him. And I fought and eventually, I took control back. So Harper sh-shot him directly in the head." His voice cracked.

"Boom" Harper said. "No more older brother. So what this moron decides to do is grab one of my grenades and detonate it right there. It did untold damage to his chest, imbedding shrapnel in his lung and blew off my arm."

"And that psycho still chased me, despite losing a whole arm!" Cal was still surprised by that fact. "Of course, now he has a synthetic one, but it still does everyone the old one did, and is stronger too, even if he'll never be able to pass it off as a real one! All it did was just make him a bigger pain in the ass then anyone else. So, eventually, I managed to nick a shuttle. And eventually, I got a new squad and for whatever reason, my past experiences and escape meant that apparently I should be squad leader."

Mich nodded, apparently happy the he wasn't still trying to separate Harper's skull from his spinal cord. At the moment.

"So, my first mission is to get some info from some Innies. Nothing much, just some stealth. However, the mission briefing changed. We had to assassinate some high ranking Innies in this massive convoy that was heading through the city the next day. But I slipped up. We got into a fight. One of my men, Briggs, got caught. I had the opportunity to shoot him, he wanted me to shoot him. But I thought he could handle it, I didn't want to shoot him. So I didn't."

He took a breath, trying hard not to allow any of the tears in his eyes to spill. Harper, however, simply dipped his head. "Team loyalty. I get that." There was something in his voice Cal couldn't identify, but he continued.

"So, we go to attack this convoy, nothing too difficult, when suddenly, one of the positions I'd placed my men in just explodes. Without warning, flames are everywhere and they're just... gone. Nothing. Then it happens again. And again. And again. And my entire squad is dead. And I could do absolutely nothing about it. Briggs had talked. He shouldn't have. And then I remembered one person who could break anyone. So I ran. I was terrified. I got to the exfil point, some abandoned garage. And he," he jerked his head at Harper, who grinned. "Was there. So he shoots me, non fatally, and pours petrol over me in some twisted parody of what my other side had done with that village."

He could still remember the pain of the fragmenting bullet spinning through his right shoulder, his body going numb as he slammed into the floor, Harper spinning around the room with the petrol can like some bizarre, messed up ballerina.

"See if you can survive this one. I really hope you can," he'd said casually, before firing his pistol in the gas. Cal had been lying on his left side, so the petrol had leaked beneath the right hand side of his helmet. He'd crawled to his feet, tried to escape, but an exploding gas canister had set him alight. The flames had licked over the right side of his face, missing his eye by centimetres and somehow not passing beyond the line of his eye at all. Eventually, screaming, he'd managed to jump through a window and rolled until he lay there, moaning, smoke rising from his scorched skin. The helmet being partially fused to his face hadn't helped.

"So, by the time I got back to the UNSC, got treated and had a thorough psyche evaluation, they'd decided I was unfit for duty. So they honourably discharged me. Gave me a medal or two. My profile is still on their database if you ever go looking. Jason Shaw." He sighs heavily. Mich broke the silence.

"Why didn't you just kill him?" she asks Harper. "Why keep him alive all this time?"

Harper looked surprised. "Kill him? Why would I want to kill him. I wouldn't be able to do anything without him! Life would be boring. It wouldn't be fun! What would my life be without fun? No, I need him around. I can't function otherwise." He smirked. "Honestly, I have no intention of ever killing Jay, here."

Cal flinched slightly at the nickname and Harper's leering tone.

"Actually," Harper's voice turned childlike. "I actually have a secret. Can you keep it?" Cal sighed, before stepping forwards.

"What is it, Harper? This better be important, cause if not, I'll just hand you to Alaska." Harper frowned.

"That'd be boring," he mutters. "Life should be fun. But seriously, it's a rather big secret."

"What?" Cal growled, before noticing Harper looking down. Cal looked down, noticing nothing interesting. Harper was making explosion gestures with his hands. Was that it-

Cal's eyes widened as he looked back down at Harper's hands. Harper's unshackled hands. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, Harper straddling him as he happily drove a blade into one of the scars on his chest. Instantly, he screamed as the white hot pain lanced through him. Harper tilted his head back, eyes shut at the sound.

"Now this is familiar!" His fingertips brushed down Cal's face happily as he continued to trace the cut. Suddenly, he could see Harper leaning directly over him. Before he could even respond, Harper had pressed his lips to Cal's and started kissing him. Cal half tried to move, half relaxed, until Mich's arm closed around Harper's throat.

"Awww, can you just give us a minute-" Harper's words were cut off as she dragged him away, hitting him hard in the stomach before kicking him, hard in the chin. Harper fell against the wall, blood flying as he grunted.

Cal stood up slowly, still gasping at the blood that was freely flowing down his chest. His expression darkened at the memories flooding through him, triggered by Harper's actions and what they reminded him of. Growling, he grabbed a scalpel from the table at the side of the room and stormed towards Harper, intercepted by Mich, who was, for some reason unknown to the half-mad Cal, trying to keep Harper alive.

"I will kill you!" He snarled. "I swear to God, if it is the last thing I do alive, I will kill you!" Harper smiled a mouthful of blood, before spitting it onto the floor.

"I expect you will. But first." He leaned forwards, face contorted into a vicious smile. "I will have you like I did before. I'm going to hurt you, slowly, intimately, in every single way that I know you fear most. And I'm going to laugh through it all. I will have so much fun with you-" Before he could say another word, Mich had slammed a fist directly into his face, cutting him off.

Cal recoiled in true horror at Harper's words, allowing for the first time in the Project, true fear to flood him, and to show it on his face. Seconds later, his face contorted and he almost blacked out in apocalyptic anger, swinging the blade directly for Harper's neck, intending to open him up, to watch him bleed into the ground, to relish his death.

However, just before the blade could reach him, Cal's arm froze, inches away from Harper's neck. He growled and tried to force the blade across, but his limb steadily refused to move. Harper started to laugh.

"You can't do it. I knew it. Part of you still cares enough to stop the rest of you. Ha!" He giggled a bit, before pouting as Cal turned, walking away rapidly. "Is that it Jay? You're leaving? Come on, I killed your brother! I fucked you! Are you just going to- oh, here we go."

Cal turned on the spot, hand dropping to his belt, ripping his gun from its holster and bringing it up, tears in his eyes as he tightened the trigger and his arm was wrenched upwards, the shot going wide.

He turned and saw Alaska standing there, impassive. "Enough," he said simply, wrenching the gun from his grasp. And Cal's anger bubbled over and reached boiling point and before he realised just what he was doing, his fist had connected solidly with Alaska's face. Alaska stumbled slightly, surprise lighting his features, before he stepped forwards, solidly hitting Cal hard in the chest.

Cal froze, before the familiar sensations started, the uncontrollable shaking and the blood bubbling through his throat as he fell to all fours, coughing as the shrapnel in his lungs broke through the surface again. Alaska, without pity, hauled Cal to his feet, dragging him out as Harper laughed behind him, and dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor of the MoI.

"Cal!" Mich cried out in shock, seeing the blood and realising what Alaska had done, hurrying after him as they exited the room, face horrified. Cal gave her a reassuring smile, though it was strained and faded slightly as Harper continued to laugh behind them, blood dripping from his nose, chin, chest and arm, though he was happily unconcerned.

"I'll see you around Jay. Looking forwards to it," he giggled, before the door shut. As Cal was dragged off, he saw Ark sat in the security room, watching the camera feed of Harper. Despite his strange absences recently, he had apparently had enough interest in Cal's past to have watched everything, that same old calculating look in his damn eyes.

"Does that answer your questions?" Cal managed through his blood, spitting at Ark's feet. Surprise still on his face at what he had seen, and also something that looked like understanding, and maybe even...pity, Ark slowly nodded and Cal allowed Alaska to drag him away, away from Harper and away from his terror and anger.