Lucky pondered the aura photograph, worrying it so hard with his fingers that the paper at the edge of the picture started to tear. It all meant something: the stone, the photo, Sarge's odd outburst. It couldn't all be a bunch of weird coincidences. Trying to put any of it together, though, was like looking at a huge puzzle with only three tiny pieces, none of which fit. On the other hand, maybe those things were better left uncovered. He grunted to himself. That's not the way a real agent would think. A real agent would be braver.

But… those voices in his head. And Sarge speaking some strange language he shouldn't have known. And his dream. It all made him want to curl under his sheets and not come out of his room ever again.

There was only one person he knew that would have any explanation for the strange phenomenon happening to his soul-only one man he could trust, anyway-even if it meant further endangering his agent position.

Furthermore, why was it only the mind stone that made him feel so strange, and not the time stone? The time stone still only felt warm to the touch, not hot, and didn't seem to talk to him no matter how long he held it. Perhaps the fact that the mind stone had no container had something to do with it, even though the TVA's magic inhibitor was supposed to neutralize all the magic that came there. He didn't think Mobius would have an answer to that.

He nearly placed the photo back into his drawer along with the Eye of Agamotto, but stopped. Miss Minutes could open the drawer herself, and any other door in the room, he assumed. He needed a new place to store his ill-gotten treasures. Beneath his mattress seemed like as good a place as any. She couldn't lift that.

He stuffed the Eye under his mattress, but shoved the photo into his pocket. Before he brought it to Mobius, he wanted Six to see it, too. Not that it would do anything to calm her perpetually frazzled nerves, especially after the fiasco in the gym, but he felt like she deserved to know.

Lucky left his room and went to hers, knocked on the door, and waited. For some reason, Six didn't answer. He knocked again.

"Six?" he called through the side of the door. Nothing.

Well, no matter. Maybe she was taking a nap, or she went to get lunch. She could be anywhere, there was no need to worry.

And yet, the worry grew deep inside of him, anyway. Goose pimples formed on the back of his neck.

"She's fine," he grumbled to himself as he went back to his own room. "Stop being a-"

The door slid open and Miss Minutes greeted him, standing on his bed, about two feet tall.

"Hey there!" she said with a wave.

Lucky startled so badly he thought his stomach would drop out of him.

"Uh… Miss Minutes?" he squeaked. "What? Why?"

She held her hands behind her back, the smile on her face cheerful, but pursed, as if she was hiding something behind those giant cartoon eyes.

"L-7, if you please, I'd like you to report to exam room 83, floor 2KL. Go to the Main Terminal, then find elevator 26. It'll be easy from there."
"But… I'm not sick..."

"Oh no. I just need to ask you a couple things, that's all.

"Why can't you do it-"

"You don't need to bring anything with ya'. See you there!"

She vanished into thin air, as she usually did, but as she left, a small shudder echoed down his spine, like an instinctual scream that he couldn't release. He breathed deeply, tried to calm himself, but he felt a panic attack creeping around in his stomach anyway, his heart fluttering like mad. Was that how Six felt all the time? It was absolutely awful.

Despite that, he put the photo under his bed, boarded the elevator, pressed the Main Terminal button, and waited patiently as it transported him to what felt like certain doom.

Six bounced her knee as she waited in exam room 9, floor UW7. Miss Minutes hadn't said exactly why she needed to go to an exam room, but Six assumed it had something to do with the cut on her lip, even though it seemed to be healing pretty well. The swelling had come down quite a bit, thanks to the gel. She'd kind of hoped when Miss Minutes had called for a medic, that it would be the same one that had treated her mouse bite. She seemed really nice.

There was no medic in the room when she'd come in, though, and nobody had come into the tiny little room after her. Was Sarge in a tiny room just like that, waiting for someone, too? She let out a long, slow breath. She didn't like thinking about Sarge, before or after his strange and terrifying explosion in the gym. How long was she supposed to sit there, anyway?

Suddenly, Miss Minutes appeared on the exam table in front of her. Her smile was small, her gigantic eyes narrowed slightly.

"How's that cut doin', hun?"

"It's fine, I guess-"

"Good."

Miss Minutes tapped her foot in silence for a second, looked Six up and down, like she was trying to decide what to say. It was an odd sort of stance coming from a normally cheerful cartoon, one that made Six's heart start to seize in her chest. She knew something.

"I've recently come across some interesting information regarding you and… what did L-7 start calling himself?" She paused, waiting for Six to answer.

"Lucky."

"Lucky, that's right." Miss Minutes' eyes narrowed further and she lost her smile, if only for the briefest moment. She began to slowly pace back and forth on the padded table. "L-63, I'd like to ask you a few questions about some events that happened five days ago…"

Six sucked in a breath, and Miss Minutes noticed. Oh, fuck. Fuck…

"I have a feeling you already know what I'm going to say. Am I right?"

"N-no," Six stammered.

"I'd like you to think long and hard, Six." Six nearly jolted again hearing Miss Minutes say her nickname for the first time. Miss Minutes giggled a bit, her smile now stranger than seeing her suspicious.

"Oh, I know y'all like to make nicknames for yourselves early. I eventually learn them all. Nothing wrong with it, I suppose, but if it were up to me, no one would have 'em. The Timekeeper made everyone exactly as he intended, with a letter and a number. It's easy, it's clean. It's perfect, if you ask me."

Six twisted uncomfortably in her seat, barely able to concentrate on what Miss Minutes was saying. What was the point of gabbing on about employee numbers? Was she waiting for Six to throw up?

"S-10-Sarge-said some pretty startling things about you and Lucky… and you're not the only ones. It seems like the Timekeeper's rules are falling on a lot of deaf ears. The thing is, I don't want to have to force you to tell me anything, Six. That would ruin quite a lot of progress, progress that you and I have worked really hard to make."

"Where's Sarge?"

"Hmm?" Miss Minute's smile fell from her face.

"What happened to him?"

Miss Minutes stood perfectly still for a moment before answering, so still that Six wondered if her program had stopped working. Her expression became sympathetic; sad, even.

"It's a terrible shame when something like that happens to a trainee. Apparently, his amygdala had stopped functioning properly sometime in the past week, causing him to lash out with… inappropriate behaviors. It wasn't just you and Lucky he targeted. One of your classmates put in more than a few harassment complaints."

That must have been D-132. Poor woman… Six had no idea she'd spent the whole time dogged by that creep.

"As you saw today," Miss Minutes continued, "the malfunction spread from his amygdala to the speech center of his brain. Once that happened, there was just no way he could be kept in class any longer."

"But what happened to him?" Six was quiet, but insistent. As terrified as she was, she had to know… or at least, get some kind of answer from Miss Minutes.

"That's not really your concern, Six," she said, then rolled her huge eyes and sighed. "But, you're not the one to give up easily, are ya'? Unfortunately, he may not be able to come back to your class. He'll need some extensive treatment for his disorder. It could take days, or it could take weeks. Either way, once he's cured, he'll be placed back into a class of trainees, good as new.

"We got started on his treatment right away, as per protocol, and that's when the revelations came to light. So, Six…" her eyes narrowed completely, her face turning sour instead of sweet, "I'd like to know about fight night."

"I don't know what that is," she blurted.

"I'm sure you remember. Think about it before deciding to lie to me. There's quite a bit I already know. I know that you and Lucky went with a senior employee. I know D-132 and Casey were there. I know you and Lucky… engaged in excessive displays of affection."

Six swallowed hard. She was about to faint, she knew it. That bastard, that stupid bastard, Sarge and Lucky, both of them…

"The urges trainees have straight out of their pods can be strong, at times. But there are very, very good reasons not to ignore the rules. The timeline depends on the TVA, on you, Six, to keep it together! Why, imagine if we all acted on impulses… imagine you're in the field, doing the most important mission of your life. You have to make a decision that will alter the timeline, but then someone you've kissed tells you it's the wrong thing to do. A good, professional TVA employee follows protocol. A good TVA employee knows that your gut cannot give you the right answer. The only thing that will preserve the sacred timeline, Six, are employees that use logic, wisdom, and intellect in a calm and composed way. Do you understand?"

Six refused to make eye contact with Miss Minutes. She sat simply staring through her, breathing heavily. She wished momentarily that Miss Minutes had a physical body, so she could pick her up and throw her against the wall. The tiniest smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth, which only made Miss Minutes angrier.

"I really don't think you understand the gravity of this situation," she said, her voice growing shrill and furious. "I want to know who else was there. You are going to tell me."

"I don't know."

"Six…"

"I don't know."

Miss Minutes' eyes flicked to the medic's cart in the corner of the room, for some reason, then back to Six, before she took a deep breath and regained her composure.

"I think I understand. You're having a hard time knowing who to trust, aren't you?"

Six held her breath, trying not to let her on to her amazement. She thought Miss Minutes couldn't read minds; now, she wasn't so sure.

"I can see why. This particular class has been unusually… chaotic. You saw the maintenance woman get hurt. That made you pretty anxious, didn't it, hun?

Six paused a moment before nodding.

"And then, somehow, you found out that a tiny cohort of bad employees enjoy beatin' the tar out of each other and gamblin' and carryin' on. And then poor Sarge… I bet after all that, this whole world just doesn't feel right."

"I-I guess."

"Still though, dear, you should know better. Trusting people who break the rules will only lead to bad things." Miss Minutes sighed and shook her head slightly. "I really am disappointed in you and Lucky, both. Six, you're the best student I've seen in several Null-units, and Lucky's not far behind. You're attentive, inquisitive, you make excellent grades, and I know you'll ace your physical. Agent Mobius even put in a recommendation for you to become an agent, too! Did you know that?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Miss Minutes sat herself down on the edge of the table, crossing her legs, letting them swing back and forth casually.

"So, you made some friends outside of class already. How did you meet Mobius, anyway?"

"Bowling." Six could barely speak. Every word out of her mouth felt strangled, like that ever-present veil over her mind was trying to suffocate her.

"What made him decide to give you a recommendation, do you think?"

"He said I had good instincts. Asked good questions."

"Like what?"

"I don't know… I asked him how the bowling machine worked."

Miss Minutes' legs abruptly stopped swinging.

"That's it?"

Six nodded.

"Hmm," Miss Minutes grumbled, with a hand to her chin. "What kind of person would you say Mobius is?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is he funny? Kind? Shy? Boisterous? What's his personality?"

"Um… I guess he's not really shy. He's just really nice. And wise. He knows a lot."

Miss Minutes nodded. "He does come off that way, doesn't he? He's one of the TVA's very best agents, and that's saying a lot. A model employee, too." She paused for just a moment, an odd little smirk forming on her mouth, even though it felt as if she was trying to mimic pity. "That's why it surprises me so much that he would participate in something like fight night."

Six's heart froze. Did… did she know already? How? Her brain raced, trying to think through the situation before blurting out something she'd regret. No, something else was going on. Miss Minutes already said what she knew, what Sarge had told her. It clicked, then, why Miss Minutes was being so nice to her.

Six calmed herself, making her expression as blank as possible, and called her bluff.

"Mobius wasn't there," she lied, straight faced, for the first time ever.

The smirk fell from Miss Minutes' face. "You're sure? You said you didn't know who was there. So how do you know Mobius wasn't?"

She shrugged. "Because he wasn't. I don't remember anyone else's names."

"And how could that possibly be?" Miss Minutes grew more impatient by the second, her kind facade melting away. "You remember the name of the senior employee you went with, don't you?"

"I didn't really go with them," she said. "I went with Lucky and he met with someone there. I don't remember much else."

"Why not?"

"Because I got drunk, okay?" she blurted, crossing her arms at her chest defiantly. "I got blackout drunk on Ever… something… and I got sick the next day, and I don't remember anything besides going."

Miss Minutes paused, glaring, her foot tapping against the padded table. She took a deep breath, even though she didn't need to breathe.

"Six, I really don't want to have to do this. Regardless of how much you drank, if I don't get any more names from you, I'm going to be forced to rescind your recommendation."

"I told you, I don't remember."

"I'm giving you one chance-"

"I. Don't. Remember."

Six's voice went low and dark, surprising herself. She found the courage to stare Miss Minutes down instead of looking through her. They scowled at each other for a moment before Miss Minutes glanced away, losing the mental game of 'chicken'.

"Fine," she said quietly. "I'm afraid you won't get to be an agent, then, Six. Not until you spend some time maturing in a different career."

Miss Minutes paused for a long time, looking for some kind of reaction, no doubt, or a last second plea for forgiveness. Six raised her chin defiantly, refusing to give her anything at all.

"I know you're upset, even if you're too stubborn to show it," she continued, "but I'd better not catch you slacking off after this just to spite me. You'd only be spiting yourself. You could still easily place into a second tier career, one that could lead to an agent position eventually. I just want you to keep in mind that things could get worse for you, that's all."

Six swallowed bile. That transparent bitch would throw her into maintenance just for the hell of it, if she had the slightest excuse.

"All this may seem harsh, but I do it because I care. Not just about you, but about the health and welfare of everyone in the TVA. Each and every one of y'all was made with purpose, and my purpose is to make sure you realize yours. Sometimes, that guidance comes with consequences. It goes without saying, I'm afraid I'm going to have to issue you a demerit for all of this nonsense, too, on top of revoking your recommendation. It's not the end of the world, though. Despite all the mistakes you've made so far, I still have faith that you can straighten up and fly right from here on out, can't you, Six?"

She raised an eyebrow and waited for Six to respond. Six, far from being afraid, wanted nothing more than to see Miss Minutes dissolve in midair. Painfully, if possible.

"Well, can't you?" she asked again.

"Yes, Miss Minutes." She had to force the words out of her mouth.

"Good," she responded, with a smug smile. "Now, you'll have to make up your physical exam tomorrow morning before class, bright and early, so I'm going to get you up about an hour before normal so you can get ready. Your lip will be fully healed by then."

"Okay," she replied numbly. Six stood to leave, but Miss Minutes floated off of the table and hovered between her and the door.

"I know that you'll give me your very best, won't you L-63?"

Six hissed, "Yes," between gritted teeth, then tried to move forward, but the hologram refused to budge.

"For all time…" said Miss Minutes expectantly.

Six nearly bit her tongue to keep herself from growling. How dare she. After all that humiliation, she still expected Six to bark out their stupid pledge, like a trained animal? Yet, Six didn't have a choice… and Miss Minutes knew it.

"Always," Six whispered back, staring at her own feet in rage and shame.

Miss Minutes smiled, cheerful once again, placated. "You go on now and get some rest. See ya' tomorrow."

She finally disappeared. Six laid her hand on the button that would open the door, froze, and suddenly, tears and sobs bubbled out of her like a boiling pot. She could barely stand being in the TVA in the first place, and now her only comfort was gone, knowing that she and Lucky would likely never work together, or see each other again after being placed in careers.

Instead of trying to keep it all inside, like she'd been doing for the last week, she let everything out, wailing at the top of her lungs, not caring if anyone could hear her or not.

Six spent all night tossing and turning, barely able to sleep, anger filling her up like a clogged drain, until every other emotion in her drowned. The next morning, she did everything that Miss Minutes had wanted her to, though she felt nothing but numb and cold. She didn't feel as if she was giving it her all on the obstacle course, but Miss Minutes gave her an excited cheer anyway when she reached the top of the climbing wall.

"Wow, Six," she said, with a little enthusiastic clap, "fantastic performance! Your physical exam definitely scored in the top three percentile of the class! Very impressive."

"Great," she mumbled, then slid down the other side of the wall with another rope.

"You should be awfully proud, Six…"

"I'm ecstatic," she replied, as flatly as possible. "Can I go to class, now?"

Miss Minutes gave her a concerned look.

"Sure. Go take a shower and get dressed."

Six went to her locker, throwing her door open and slamming it against the door next to it, just for the smallest sense of catharsis. It left a noticeable dent on her neighbor's locker. She didn't care. She went to the showers, turned it scalding hot. She couldn't get it hot enough to satisfy whatever was crawling under her skin. She wanted it to blister her.

"Are you feelin' alright, hun?"

Somehow, Six didn't startle when Miss Minutes appeared next to her in the shower, person sized, the water pattering through her hologram body.

"I'm great," she said. "I'm happy. I'm wonderful."

She stomped back over to her locker, grabbed her towel, and furiously dried herself off.

"Oh, honey," said Miss Minutes, in an infuriatingly patronizing tone, "I know things haven't gone your way. You're frustrated. I understand. All this work feels like it's for nothin', but I can assure you, it's not."

On an uncontrollable impulse, Six slammed her locker as hard as she possibly could, breaking the lock mechanism and damaging the hinge. The door creaked open slowly, broken, just like Six felt. She laid both hands on either side of the busted door and leaned over, breathing heavily. It was all crashing down, falling apart, the veil fluttering and congealing again, like it had during the test when she was too tired and stressed to think straight.

"Six? Six, are you all right?"

"Fine," she said, though her overwhelmed brain told another story. "I've never been better. I'll… I'll never be better."

"Six?" Miss Minutes took a step towards her. "Stay with me, hun. Do you need a medic?"

She let out a long, shuddering breath, feeling her knees go weak.

"You cannot possibly understand how I feel."

"Try me, sugar."

"You're not alive. You don't have a body, or a real brain, or a heart…"

"Excuse me?"

"You're not real!" she roared, then gasped, all the anger that had built up all night draining out of her in an instant. She pursed her lips tightly into a thin line as Miss Minute's expression grew dark.

Did… did that actually come out of her mouth?

Miss Minutes slowly crossed her arms in front of her. "Just because I don't have a physical body doesn't mean I'm not real. Oh, rest assured, L-63-to you, I am the realest thing there is."

She took a few menacing steps towards Six, and Six backed away, even though there was no way Miss Minutes could possibly harm her.

"In case you didn't get the point yesterday, you don't have a whole lot of choice in this matter. The rules are to be obeyed, and I'm the one to make sure that happens. You don't know what I could-"

She stopped herself all of a sudden, looking just as surprised as Six had when she'd shouted. Her big cartoon pupils went small and beady for a moment, then, with a weary sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nonexistent nose.

"I'll give you a chance to apologize, L-63-"

"I'm sorry, Miss Minutes," she said immediately. "I didn't mean to say that. I was just mad." Some blaring instinct told her it was a bad time to press her teacher any further.

"Well, you should be careful how you act when you're angry. Taking it out on me certainly isn't an option."

"No, Miss Minutes."

"I'd suggest taking a minute before going back to class to adjust your attitude, missy," she scolded, then, to herself, almost too faint for Six to hear, she added, "...or I'll do it for you."

With that, she was gone again. Six stood in the locker room, dripping in silence, with nothing but a towel to cover her. As she squeezed the last of the water out of her hair and rummaged around in her broken locker for her crumpled up clothes, the dream that she'd had right after she'd hatched popped into her mind. It was the only dream of hers that she could remember everything from, so far. The Timekeeper statue had offered her a tiny figurine of Miss Minutes, and in her dream, she knew precisely what it represented. Power. False power. Miss Minutes might have had a tight grip on everyone, because they'd learned since they'd been hatched to respect her, to trust her, but she was nothing but an empty, transparent shell.

Six had known that instinctively, somehow, before she'd even come to despise Miss Minutes.

A little grin started to tug at the corner of her mouth. Something in her had cracked beyond repair, a tiny sliver of the veil had ripped… and it felt good.

She left the locker room and the door to the bottom of the classroom opened for her, where she saw about half of the trainees sitting in their assigned seats. Near the top sat Lucky, not fidgeting for once, sitting perfectly still and staring into the middle distance. He was never, ever that early to class. He also looked pale, like someone had drained a pint of blood out of him. His face lit up with relief, though, as he caught sight of Six on the stairs.

"Six, you're okay!" he whispered when she'd reached the aisle. He looked as though he wanted to rush from his seat and give her a hug, but barely kept himself still. "I was so worried. You weren't in your room after class, and then…" he trailed off, closed his mouth into a little line.

"It's okay," she said as she took her seat next to him, feeling unusually calm. "She questioned you too, didn't she?"

He let out a little breath. "Yes. God, I thought I was ruined. Sarge, that bastard. The next time I see him I'll-"

"What?!" Six struggled to keep her voice down. "Lucky, he's not coming back."

"He's not?"

"No! What did Miss Minutes tell you?"

"I… I didn't ask about him," he said, genuinely confused. "I was too worried about her knowing about fight night. You mean, you did?"

"Of course I did! How could you not want to know?"

"I wanted to know, but it wasn't the first thing on my mind, at that moment."

Another batch of trainees filed into the room, D-132 among them. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve as she made her way down the stairs to her seat, in front of Lucky and Six. Her shoulders would shudder occasionally as she gasped for breath in between silent sobs.

"Lucky," whispered Six, even quieter, "she told me Sarge needed to be treated for some kind of brain malfunction. She said he confessed during the treatment, and he might not be placed back into this class. But, I don't know, it all felt kind of… dubious, for some reason."

"Good riddance," muttered D-132. She turned around in her seat, with the most hateful look that her mousey countenance could pull off. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks and nose flushed mauve under olive skin. "Miss Minutes gave me a demerit last night. And Casey said he got one, too."

"I'm sorry, D-132," said Six. "At least you won't have to deal with Sarge anymore."

Her face grew even darker, somehow. "Casey said a whole lot of other people got busted, too."

"H-how could that be?" stammered Lucky, his eyes going wide.

"Oh, please," she sneered. "It was one of you, it had to be."

Six's stomach went ice cold. Lucky looked like he was going to fall apart.

"But it couldn't have been!" Lucky rasped. "It was Sarge!"

"Sarge barely knew anyone there. Neither did I. Casey said he kept his mouth shut. You two, though-"

"Good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Miss Minutes," the class responded in unison. D-132 instantly turned back around in her seat, her tears abruptly forgotten.

"I know y'all are probably a bit rattled by all the hubbub yesterday, but now's not the time to lose your focus. There's only a few more class periods until your final exam! I shouldn't need to remind you to study. It'll be the same as the last test, except without the personality questions, and more knowledge questions. I'll warn you now: this one will be hard. And it should be, because it'll be the final determining factor in your career placement."

Lucky hurriedly got his notebook and mangled pencil out of his bag as Miss Minutes spoke, as if he was actually eager to learn something instead of cheating, like he had last time. That was a cover, though, Six knew it. He refused to look Six in the eye, keeping his undivided attention completely on their teacher, for the first time ever. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Six didn't want to admit it, didn't want to think about it… but he was hiding something. And she knew exactly what it was.

"After you finish your test," she continued merrily, "you'll be given an envelope containing your career placement and the name of the senior employee who'll be training you. Now, let's get on to our lesson. We've got a lot to cover today. Please turn to page three hundred and eight in your Handbook; Chapter Fourteen: Natural Timeline Formation and Temporal Paradoxes…"

Six spent the class barely listening to Miss Minutes' lecture, only pretending to take notes. The anger that had just drained out of her in the locker room started to fill her up again. Her eyes would flicker over to Lucky every so often, whose eyes never left the front of the room. Each time she caught a glimpse of him pretending not to see her, her anger grew. By the time Miss Minutes finally released them from class, she was bubbling with fury once again.

Lucky was the first to jump out of his seat and rush to the door. He wasn't waiting for anyone, no doubt eager to run away from her.

Craven coward.

She sloppily gathered her things into her bag and took off running after him until she'd caught up to him in the foyer, just about to board the first empty elevator. She slammed her hand against the closing doors and pushed them open, even though she didn't need to, staring him down. He jumped and blanched, like she had on the first day when he'd come up behind her and scared the wits out of her.

"Hey," he said, attempting a weak grin, "I was going to meet up with you at the dorm, I just couldn't wait to get out of there, you know…"

He trailed off as she stepped onto the elevator, never breaking her gaze, and pressed the 'close door' button before anyone else could board.

Lucky scratched his head and leaned against the back wall, attempting to act casual. "So, I was thinking, we should probably start studying right away-"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

Lucky froze in place. His pathetic grin vanished and his eyes went as wide as saucers. He bit his lower lip, cowering slightly as she approached, even though Six was nearly a foot shorter than he was.

"You snitched," she hissed.

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"But… I… Six…" he started to stammer and fumble with his words as she continued to stare daggers into him, breathing heavily.

"Out with it!" she finally yelled.

"Okay, okay!" he blurted, his hands in front of him defensively. "But I had to, Six! You mean you didn't even give her one name?"

"Mobius told us even if Miss Minutes questioned us, that we would tell her that there was no fight night."

"Yeah, but-she already knew!" he threw his hands up in the air helplessly. "She knew we were there, she knew about D-132 and Casey-"

"You are the most pathetic, weasely, backhanded coward there ever was, Lucky!" she shouted. She was so angry, she could barely even see straight. "If you'd kept your trap shut, then she only would have known about the five of us. But no, you had to keep your precious agent position, didn't you?"

Lucky's expression melted from fear to bewilderment, but Six kept going, too furious to stop.

"Whose names did you give? Who did you rat out, huh?"

"Six-"

"Tell me!"

Lucky paused before letting out a long, shuddering breath. His gaze fell to his shoes, hanging his head in utter shame.

"Hal… Evette… Libby… Jet…"

With each name, Six felt the flush in her face growing hotter. He wasn't even done!

"B-15… C-20-"

"Everyone," she whispered in horrified outrage. "Every fucking person we met. You-you-" she cut herself off. There wasn't a word she knew strong enough to convey her disgust.

"She kept pushing me, Six!" he yelped. "When I gave a name, she'd go, 'and who else?' 'I know you know someone else,' so I just panicked and started giving more and more names-"

"Mobius?" she growled, taking a step towards him.

"No! Not Mobius."

"Don't you dare lie to me-"

"I didn't snitch on Mobius!" he shouted, startling her slightly. "I would never, ever snitch on Mobius. Never, even if my life depended on it."

She studied his grim face for a moment, then decided he was telling the truth about that, at least.

"Who did you say was the senior employee that we were with, then?"

"Zeit," he groaned.

"Zeit?"

"Yeah, you remember. He was one of the fighters."

"We don't even know which department he works in."

"Well, she bought it," he said, leaning against the wall with a sigh. "She finally stopped questioning me after that. I was there for like, an hour. It was horrible."

Six was mute, unable to speak, unable to look him in the eye. She wanted to puke.

"She asked me why Mobius wanted me to be an agent, too," he continued. "So I… told her about the vent thing."

"He said not to tell her about that, too!" she bellowed.

"I know he did! I know! But I didn't have anything else to tell her! I was going to frame Sarge for stealing an infinity stone from an employee, so she might be impressed when I ratted him out, but that obviously fell through…"

"Well, aren't you so bloody clever?" she sneered. "Always thinking up ways to get everyone else in trouble."

They stood in silence for a few moments as their elevator sped past the landscape of the bustling TVA around them.

"You… you didn't snitch on anyone?" he asked in a whisper. "Nobody at all?"

She shook her head. Slowly, Lucky grimaced, tears swimming in his green eyes.

"Six… that means… but why? How could you?"

"How could I?" she said, dumbfounded. "How could you?"

"But then you won't become an agent!" he whined. "I thought that would make you happy-"

"Nothing makes me happy, Lucky!" she exploded, to her own amazement as well as his. Her voice dropped, her head swam with feelings she couldn't put into words. "Why are you like this? You're the most self-centered person who's ever lived. It's like… it's like you think we're the same person, or something, like we're going to react the exact same way to everything, like what makes you happy will make me happy. You can't even think outside of yourself, can you?"

"I do think outside of myself, all the time," he retorted. "I think about you, and I think about Mobius, and I think about how I'm never going to measure up to either of you. Who cares if I gave her all those names? They're not you. They're not him. You're who I care about, nobody else."

Her whisper came out in nearly a growl. "I bet if she didn't already know I was there, you would have ratted me out, too."

Lucky grabbed her shoulders roughly, turned her around to face him. "If I did that, Six, I'd rather be dead. I wouldn't… but now we…" He trailed off, the tears in his eyes swelling and then falling freely down his face. With a sob, he swept her into a tight bear hug, crying into her hair.

Six was so stunned for a moment that she couldn't speak.

"B-but someone will see if they get on!" she finally stuttered.

"I don't care!" he shouted. "Let everyone see! Why couldn't you have just given her one name? Anyone? Then we could still be together." A hot tear fell from his eye and dripped down her cheek, as if she'd been the one crying. He broke away from her slightly, holding her head gently between his hands, fingers tangled through her hair. The look in his eyes made her pause, muffled her anger for just a moment. He breathed shakily, staring straight into her soul, like he was studying every little detail, taking it in one last time so he'd never forget.

He gently lifted her head for another kiss, but she gained her senses back at the last second and jerked away. No. This wasn't forgivable, no matter how much he cried and begged. She had some dignity… though it started to vanish with every second he gazed into her with those deep, green eyes.

"Six?" he whispered.

Just then, the elevator stopped, dinged, and the doors opened to the empty terminal of BQ6. After a moment of staying trapped between his hands, she made her decision. She broke away and left down hallway three.

"Six!"

He called out after her, following pathetically behind, like they'd seen Sarge do to D-132 so many times. She made it to her room and closed the door on him.

Lucky wasn't giving up. He knocked on her door, called out for her. She let him stew in what he'd done.

Six sat on her bed in silence, staring at her door, waiting for Lucky to give up. It didn't take as long as she thought it would. After about thirty seconds, the hallway went quiet again.

She let out a long breath, as if she'd been holding it in ever since she left class. Her anger and anxiety had rotted into something else, some unrecognizable, moldy, black feeling, with no shape or form. Misery. She was so tired. So tired of being mad, tired of everything, tired of living and breathing and having to get up in the morning and eat and go to class. What was the point?

Six kicked off her shoes and burrowed into bed. In sleep, at least, she didn't have to feel anything. She wanted nothing more than to sleep forever. After a few minutes of crying, it didn't take long before her unconscious mind swept her mercifully away.