A/N: Update Tuesday. Enjoy Kaiya and Sophia. :P

Feather! Classes are so evil. I missed you. :D I'll take a moment for a small spoiler to say "Little Piggy" isn't going anywhere (so Raph and him moments are inevitable) and that his name will be revealed at the end of the book. That said, Bishop has much planned, and not all if it will be revealed in just this book. ;)

WOLF - ROFL Raph's gunna have to learn to share. ;)

Sciencegal - Yeah, she tends to overcompensate for the life she's led up until she met the guys. Forget that she's a mama bird when it comes to her family. XD

Chapter 21: Down

Dishes had never been Kaiya's favorite chore, but it beat going to bed. So while Mommy and Daddy read Megan a bedtime story, the wavy-haired girl scrubbed remnants of dinner off several plates in their kitchen sink. It was hard at some points because sometimes Mommy's food turned black and wouldn't come up no matter how hard Kaiya scraped it with a fork.

She frowned at the dirty spot through the warm shallow water, and then pressed down again with her sponge. A snap immediately followed, though the seven-year-old didn't realize the plate had cracked in half until red clouds tinted the sink water. They drew her attention to a broken section of plate protruding through her submerged hand.

It looked a lot like the spikes the fat doctor stuck through her months ago. So much so that her chest grew hot, convincing her she couldn't watch the cut any longer without screaming. All she saw was his face—smiling and dark—and the only way she thought she could get rid of him was to rip the glass out and forget it existed.

She fell backwards from the force she used, right off the edge of her stool to the tile floor. The glass piece shattered wherever she threw it yet the doctor's face remained as she crawled backwards to a wall.

It wasn't the plate. The blood reminded her. The color, the smell—it was what he smelled like. All the time. And her throat closed when she glanced at her hurt palm.

The pale skin bubbled with a familiar burn and a yellow-green color mixed into the red. Kaiya tried keeping tears away, except it hurt so much. It hurt like her back did once. Like her leg when the fat doctor cut it. How could she make it stop? Only one way came to mind.

She closed her eyes with a shuddering breath then tucked her hand between her legs, singing, "Sakura, sakura. Yayoi no sora wa…"

The words were erratic, yet it felt wrong to stop. So Kaiya held onto the sound of Leonardo's voice from her memories and continued stronger.

"Mi-watasu kagiri.

Kasumi ka kumo ka.

Nioi zo izuru.

Izaya, izaya.

Mini yukan…"

Kaiya drew out the last sound, if only to remember how her voice blended alongside Leonardo and Mister Rupert. The song had been so comforting back then. Even now, her body didn't shake as bad. Still, it was also a reminder that her hero had left home a long time.

"Kaiya?"

Glancing up from her spot by a tall trashcan, Kaiya watched her father approach from the kitchen doorway.

"What happened?" he asked while helping her sit up further.

"I, uh, I'm sorry, Daddy," Kaiya whispered back. "I broke a plate."

"Were you hurt?"

The little blonde paused then lifted her hand. It was dirty from the blood, yet when Daddy cleared the red off her hand, there was no sign of the cut—not on one side or the other. His grip stayed strong as stared at her, although Kaiya didn't want to see his face. Thankfully, he didn't force her chin up.

"You should be more careful," is all he said before releasing her.

Her hand felt cold when he did, so she drew it close against her skull-print sweater and watched the man glance over the kitchen. A trail of broken plate pieces led to the seven-year-old from the sink. She hadn't noticed them until now, and grumbled another apology to her father.

"It's okay," he replied, heading to the closet for a broom. When he had it, he returned to the mess, asking, "So, what song were you singing?"

Kaiya's eyes focused on the broom's sweeping moves. "A—an old one called 'Sakura, Sakura'. It's Japanese."

"Where'd you learn it?"

"In the bad place with…with Mister Rupert. Leonardo taught it to us. He said his daddy taught him when he was scared…like we were."

"You—" Blaine paused sweeping. "You were scared just now?"

Kaiya glanced away.

"I thought talks with Doctor Vigue made you feel better."

"Sometimes they do. Other times…"

"Did you have a flashback?"

Nodding, Kaiya squeezed her hand tighter then sighed. "I—I do what Misses Vigue says, but they still happen. E—even at Doctor Olson's place. I know he won't hurt me. I know he wants to help. I just…don't like the white."

"Is there any way Daddy can make it better?"

Blaine had gathered most of the glass into a neat pile that he then swept into the dust pan. He sent a smile as he neared the trashcan at Kaiya's side, although watching the pieces fall into it left her nauseous. She scrambled upwards and decided to fix the stool she had stumbled from earlier.

"Kai?"

"I feel happy when I run," Kaiya said to the man behind her. He stayed quiet, but she was tired of waiting to ask. "It's what Uncle Hugh and Uncle Mikey let me do. Daddy, it's fun. Why won't you let me do it more often?"

"Kai"—the older blonde shook his head once the child turned around—"I don't want to see you unhappy. It hurts me too, you know?"

"So why?"

"Because of incidents like the jungle gym. There won't always be an excuse, Baby. And if some bad people notice you again, I would never forgive myself." Daddy frowned an usual frown. He didn't seem annoyed or angry. He seemed…sad.

The girl focused on his brown-green eyes as he stepped forward, not quite understanding what made them glisten. "I—If Uncle Mikey and Leonardo train me then I could get away from the bad guys, right?"

"I heard about that idea from your Uncle Hugh last Tuesday," Daddy said while stopping.

"Isn't it a good one?" questioned Kaiya with a smile. Her father may've sighed, except he often did that before giving Mommy what she wanted. "Please, let me do it! I wanna be a hero too—like Mister Leonardo, Uncle Mikey and Uncle Hugh and...you."

"Kai—"

"You've told me and Meg you like helping people. That's why you're a police officer. Well, I want to help others too, Daddy."

He sighed again—this time longer and more controlled. The gloss over his eyes strengthened, yet the hand he placed on Kaiya's shoulder was strong. "You're so much like me. You know that?"

"Mommy says so," Kaiya replied, biting her lip.

"I make no promises, but"—the man paused to hunch one shoulder—"I'll talk with Mommy. Don't jump and down yet; there will be limitations."

"Why? If I get hurt, I'll just heal."

"That doesn't make things better. I don't care how fast you heal, you getting hurt in the first place hurts me. So don't get carried away, comprendé?"

Kaiya gave a quick nod, despite her want to protest. Daddy grinned in return then kissed her forehead before putting the broom away. Really, there was more she wanted to talk about—like when her next meeting with Uncle Mikey would be or if she'd ever get to visit Miss Nia again.

After all, the lady said she wasn't normal either. Kaiya wanted to know what that meant...

Sophia didn't trust Sarah to stay upright. The dark-haired artist had been swaying around Warner-Frost Services for the last half hour, and the building's basement had knocked her off balance twice with its clutter obstacles. Still, she bypassed every social worker and refused to relax, which left Sophia with little choice in how to spend her afternoon.

"So you knew about the little guy?" Sarah asked Berry behind the vanity.

The boy bobbed his large head, sending a sidelong glance towards Rose in an old armchair.

"We have no idea where he came from," the hairy girl added. "H—he was here before we started coming. Tried feeding him a few times, but he'd never take anything. Not unless we left."

"Is he your pet?"

Berry snorted and drew his eyes back to Sarah. "Yeah, right. The thing tried to eat me. I don't think it likes people."

"He's just scared to trust," said Sarah in an undertone.

"Seems like you understand how that feels," Sophia interjected. She kicked her legs from her seat on a tall pile of boxes that she used as a lookout post and met the artist's eyes for a moment. "Nessun problema, Calza. I get it. So, what'd you do with it?"

"Took him home. M—my husband isn't fond of him, but my brother makes it his life goal to coax frightened things out of their shell…"

"It let you touch it?" Rose questioned.

"He had no choice," Sarah answered with a sigh. "Miss Heart wanted him dead. She wanted to use him as a pass into the EPF. I—I couldn't have that. He doesn't deserve to be killed for what he is. None of us do."

"Us?" Sophia raised an eyebrow.

Sarah didn't look up and rubbed a hand over a thin bandage around her bicep. "I told you I have a secret. W—we've only known about each other for a few days, but please trust me. I've been hunted, stolen, harvested, and all for the same reason you two hide: because I'm not seen as human. Least, not by some."

"Why is that?" Sophia couldn't help speaking before the others, and when she earned the pale young woman's attention, the haunted fear behind her teal eyes was glaring.

'Don't tell me she's part mutant. Or something else...'

"Y—you don't look like a person who would be hunted," Rose noted after a pause.

"Everything different about me is on the inside, mostly," Sarah replied. Her hand clenched her bicep tighter as she glanced between the kids. "It isn't anything like long bones or hair, I'll admit that. But I know what it's like to wish you were something else. To feel stuck, alone. To see others your age and think 'Why can't I be that happy?'

"But it turns out you can be. While scary, you should trust those willing to help."

"We have three people we trust," Barry retorted, jabbing a 'forked' hand in Sarah's direction.

He gained Rose's attention and her distressed hairs swayed when she nodded. "Zebb, Ulla, and Unna—they'll get us out."

"Who are they?"

"The Man Without Pain and the Two-Headed Nightingale." Stiffening, Sophia blanched at the imploring sets of eyes on her. "Che cosa? I did research."

"Th—they're like our parents," Rose admitted. She hesitated under Barry's glare, but then leaned towards him, speaking in a hushed tone, "Titan's right. I—I don't want to be with Lacio anymore, and if people keep wanting to help, shouldn't we let them?"

"They're norms, Rose; what do they know?"

"More than a couple of kids would expect," Sophia snapped. There was a mile-long list she could bring up. Only problem? A need for discretion.

"Oh, yeah?" Barry challenged.

Sophia almost retorted, but then Sarah stood, swaying while she passed the box tower the blonde occupied. "Wh—why not tell us a little about yourselves?"

"Why?" Barry countered with a dubious gaze.

"Trust is built by sharing." Halting, the artist crouched beside the vanity (though Sophia suspected it was an unwilling action). "So if at any time it seems like we don't care what you have to say, t—then you have a reason not to believe us."

"And you'll leave us alone?"

"You won't have many more chances, Bimbetto," Sophia told Barry. "They'll be sealing off this basement in a few days. Besides, isn't Lacio Circus migrating again?"

The preteens grew tense, their gazes connecting over the side-turned sofa between them.

"How would you know that?"

Sophia faced Sarah. "News, Calza. Besides, Miss Heart complained about the new project the whole time we stood in line for coffee at the lobby."

"Did she?"

"She was upset with you for not replying."

"I—I don't remember…"

The blonde sighed then ruffled her blunt bangs with her fingers. "It's a wonder you made it here without venturing into traffic," she muttered.

"Not like it matters," Barry added. "Zebb's going to make things better before then."

"What's that mean, Bimbetto?"

"Stop calling me that, weirdo!"

"I'm the weirdo?" With a light scoff, Sophia shared a look with Sarah.

The artist didn't seem so pleased. In fact, she looked paler than usual, and when she rapidly blinked over her shoulder, Sophia feared she'd fall over. So she slipped off the boxes, landing on an end table. Its broken leg caved under her weight, yet the falling motion felt natural to her and she landed by Sarah without any loss of balance.

"Are you sure we don't need to call anyone, Calza?" she questioned.

Though Sarah shook her head, she had to brace her hip against the vanity when she swayed.

Sophia took another step forward and reached towards her arm. "This is starting to get real bad. Let's get you upstairs."

"I said I"—Sarah heaved then blinked again—"I'm fine. Just…stay away."

"If I stay away, you're going to make friends with the floor. So will you let me—"

Sophia drew her hand back. It wasn't by choice; it was an invisible force that hit her like a strong gust of wind. Severe prickling left her body shaking against several boxes, but worse than that, her chest burned. She meant to remove her necklace—the stone that acted weird only around Sarah. Except it wouldn't budge from her skin, like the heat cemented it between her small breasts.

'What the hell?'

"M—Miss Brown?"

Rose's voice roused enough sense to bring Sophia's attention upwards. Under the basement's flickering lights, Sarah tensed. She stared forward, though no recognition lit her eyes. They were bland, wide, and soon rolled back as the artist's body collapsed.

A/N: Things just get worse from here on out. And yeah, we do lose Nia's POV for...a while... _