Eyes open. Head aches. Unfamiliar room. Sparse quarters. Concentrate, last memory: Operating psycho drive. Freeing dolls from enslavement. Overload. Explosion. Blackness. Betrayal, I have committed betrayal. I have gone against the general. What will happen to me now?

"Are you alright?"

Sit up. My insides feel hollow and light. Hands shake against my will. Pain moves through my head. He stands at the threshold, civilian clothes, no mask, no weapon. And I do not know-threat, or not? Do I attack, or do I wait? "You tried to kill me." Test for hostility. If present, then engage. Preemptive strike while he is unarmed. Though he does not need a weapon to kill, it will give him less of an advantage.

"Those were his orders and I couldn't refuse them."

"You are lying." He has frequently ignored orders, especially regarding me. "You always refused him as you saw fit."

"Then those orders were my punishment, weren't they?"

Stare at him still in the doorway. Slowly comprehending. The lies he told the general, his disobedience, caught up to him. "You failed. I am alive. Why?"

"Do you really think I could kill you?"

He kills all others he is assigned to. But all others are not me. "No," I say finally. "But why?"

"You're too beautiful."

"You let me win?"

He nods. Could I have defeated him were it not for that? Will he ever try to kill me again? "I can't hurt you." He says it almost like he's disappointed in himself. Like he is weak for that. His mouth is open as if he will say more, but no words ever come.

"Where are we?" I ask him.

"Barcelona. I didn't know where else to go." Far from the general. Far from home. But Shadaloo is no longer home. Nowhere is home. But I am free. Does freedom require that? Have I done something wrong? What happens now?

"The others," I say and I mean the Dolls. But I do not wish to call them that anymore. "Are they safe?"

"You said you freed them." He's right, I remember suddenly. Why does my memory feel like it's in pieces? "He said..." He steps toward me. Tense, always stay alert. "He said you'd die if he died."

"I do not feel dead." He touches my face, just beneath my nose. I see blood on his fingers. I feel pain, not a physical kind. A desperation, deep in my stomach. I am frightened. I have for some time understood this word but never been able to feel it myself. Did I really want this? I close his hand into a fist and push it away, I do not want to see the blood, my blood. "What will happen?" All of my fear is in my voice, in my face. Before everything happened with the target in India, I wouldn't have been able to do that. And now it's unstoppable, my expression of fear.

"I'll fix it." Can he? Does he have that sort of power? He is nothing like the general, and Shadaloo is destroyed. Who can really help me?

Waking up is a bit hard this morning. I feel sad about something but I don't know what. I have a lot of dreams I don't remember and maybe they're effecting my mood even though I forget them pretty quickly. I've got to drag myself out of bed anyway. I have work after all. Which is a good thing. People seem to complain about work, or maybe it's just movies and shows and that. But I like having a job, makes me feel like I mean something, like I matter, I have a place.

So I push through the sad feeling I woke up with and pretty soon it goes away on its own as I go through my morning routine. Shower, get dressed, brush hair and teeth, snag a breakfast bar, and out the door I go. I'm a bit off schedule because I sat in bed a little longer than I should have. But it's alright, I'll-

Oh. Oh dear. I have to stop when I see it because no one else does. Huddled beside a dumpster down the alley is a little white cat with brown spots. He's gnawing on a piece of plastic that looks like maybe a sandwich was in it or something and my heart is going to break. Nobody should have to eat garbage. He must be hungry. Well he can't buy his own food, so if I don't do it, he's going to starve! No, no I can't stand that thought, so I rush off to the nearest store that might have some food in it. It's busy 'cos everyone's on their way to work I suppose but it's important. I don't want to let the poor cat die from being hungry.

I get a tin of tuna even though I should probably be saving every bit of money I've got. I tell myself it's an important emergency because it is. It's better I spend this on a poor little cat who could die from starvation at any time. I get my change and trot off back to the alley. The cat's still there, licking on the plastic, so desperate for any bit of food that might have smeared onto it. Oh it's so sad! How can everyone ignore the poor little kitty with nothing to eat?

Well, I'm not ignoring it. I pop off the lid to the tuna, tip-toe towards the cat. He stiffens up, back arched, he stares at me. I set the tuna down, slide it towards him with my toe, and take a step back. I want to make sure he knows it's there, so I watch him. For a moment he doesn't do anything. I'm pleading with him in my head like I can make him move to the food with my thoughts. And maybe that works because then he inches towards the tin and sniffs it. I get so excited I make a little noise and cover my hand with my mouth so I don't scare him away.

And he eats it! Oh now at least I know he's had a decent meal today! It makes me so happy to see him scarfing it down and I watch the whole time while he eats. It feels good to help somebody who needs something. I guess I haven't done it before, so it's new to me. I should do it more often I think. Once he's finished and is just licking the inside I get a bit bold and inch towards him. I hold out my hand and think maybe, just maybe he'll let me-

But then he saunters off, slips under the dumpster, and watches me from there. I push my lips together tightly. Well, maybe making friends with an animal is a bit different than making one with a person. I can't just tell the cat hello because he won't understand. It's alright though. If I see him here tomorrow, maybe I'll try again. Wasn't I going somewhere anyway?

Oh God, I have to get to work!

I start running when I realise that. How long did I get sidetracked by the cat? I'd better hurry or I'm going to be in trouble! I rush into the cafe I always go to and the line's a bit longer than normal and I try hard not to groan loudly. It's not anybody's fault but my own, anyway. I keep glancing at the clock on the wall and it inches closer and closer to nine. I get to put my order in and then I've got to wait for it to be called and it's so nerve-wracking. I'm trying to be patient but it's the hardest thing in the world, being patient. Like holding your breath when you really need to breathe. I'm bouncing up and down on my toes-heels up, heels down, heels up, heels down. Don't know why, that just seems like it'll make things go faster.

"Cammy!"

Finally! I say thanks of course, not their fault I'm late, got to get a bit of milk in this quick, rush over to the other counter-

"Oh!" It's a chain reaction of crap. First, a woman in a big hat with purple hair-really, purple-bumps into my shoulder, and that bumps me into this other fellow, and my flimsy cup of tea collapses in my hand and spills on my shoulder. It's a bit hot and I don't try to hide that when I hiss really loud. The woman doesn't even look back, like, no big deal that I just made a complete stranger spill hot tea all over herself. I'm annoyed about that but I'm too late to chase after her and demand some apology and just call, "Well, thanks a load!" at her back as she leaves out the door.

The lady behind the counter saw all that and calls out, "What was it, sweetie, we'll make you another." And I tell her and thank God for that because if I had to wait in line again, I'd never make it to work! I look back down at my ruined cup and sigh in a really exaggerated way but I don't care, I'm quite annoyed by all this, not a good way to start the day. I say sorry to the guy I bumped in to because well, at least someone should say sorry about all this, even if it isn't my fault. He still looks bewildered, stares at me all shocked, and I groan because I can see there's a dark spot on his shirt where my tea probably spilled on him too. I say sorry again and he keeps staring at me and that's annoying me. I'm not some space alien, so what's he gawking at?

He says something finally, quickly like he just remembered he knew how to talk and I have a hard time understanding. It sounds like 'noablo-eengless'. Don't I feel like an idiot throwing apologies at him and getting frustrated that he won't respond. Not everybody speaks the same language as me. But then he sighs loudly and shakes his head slowly, says in perfectly fine English, "Yes I do."

It takes me a second to parse all that, but when I do, it just annoys me! "Oh you ass! You were just going to ignore me when I'm trying to be nice and apologise to you about this tea incident!"

"Maybe I forgot, only for a moment."

Now I'm staring at him. Is that possible? I shouldn't be one to judge people for forgetting things, but would someone really forget a whole language, just for a second? I don't really know because I only know one language and well, to be honest, I've forgotten words for a second too. Like once at work I needed a bathroom break but the word 'bathroom' completely slipped my mind so I was left going 'ah, um, the ahhhh.'

"I'm joking."

"Oh it gets worse and worse with you!" I cry and push on his shoulder because this little trickster, he's making a fool out of me. "I'm just trying to be nice even though this day has got off on a bad start!"

"How is that?" When he says a word with an 'h' in it, it sounds a bit funny, almost like he's choking on something a bit, but I don't have time to ask him why. I have to stay focused on getting him to stop playing tricks on me.

I scrub at the tea on my shirt with a paper towel but it's not helping much. "Well, first I woke up a little later than I should have. Then I had to stop on the way here, because I saw a cat and it seemed hungry so I popped into the nearest store I could find for a tin of tuna fish and that took up a good bit of time. Then I get here and the line is longer than usual so there's that." I crumple up the napkins and toss them in the bin beside him. "And now I've got to change clothes 'cos some lady in a floppy hat bumped into me, and she didn't even take a second to say sorry! But then I try to make up for it by saying sorry to you, and you tease me instead!"

"A cat?"

I groan, why's he all the way back there? "Oh, you're a great listener, aren't you goldilocks!" I only know that word because it's what Ginzu called me and it's somebody with blond hair who ate some bear soup or whatever, I can't remember exactly.

The woman behind the counter catches my attention. My tea's ready. So glad, going to be so terribly careful this time, on guard for all manner of shoulder bumpers and floppy hat havers. That lady better never see me again because I'll have a few words for her! I thank the lady behind the counter and grab my cup and go back for some milk. Goldilocks is still there trying to scrub the tea out of his shirt but I don't have much time for a conversation so I just say, "Good luck with that, mate."

"You too, Cammy."

And I don't know why but that makes me clam up real tight. "How'd you know my name?" I ask and maybe I said it sort of serious and now he knows I'm sort of wary of him for that.

But he raises his eyebrows and pantomimes holding a cup with one hand and points at his imaginary cup with the other. I look down and there it is, my name written in black strokes for all to see. I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. It was stupid of me to get nervous because a person can read! "Well aren't you clever," I mutter and even though he's not looking at me he smiles a little but it makes me want to hit him. I've got my tea, got my damp shirt, and three minutes to make a ten minute walk. What a day.