Entering her room, she managed a half-hearted smile at her quadmate Nicolai. He was lounging lazily in his bunk, and his gaze turned worried as he noticed the break in her composure. Hopping to his feet, he walked over and planted a kiss on her cheek, his cocky air always making her grin, even if it was just a temporary happiness. "Thanks, Nic." Dante whispered, sliding into her bunk and watching him with tired eyes. "What have you been up to today?"

"Not much, sweetheart... managed to find myself a new girlfriend, but I think she doesn't appreciate my talents yet." He winked, then his grin faded. "You sure you're alright? If it was that test for your tactics class, that's one tough exam, my buddy Marko, remember him? He failed it last term, but still managed to pull a good grade in that class... I'm sure you did fine, you always worry and things turn out just perfect." He continued to ramble on as Dante shook her head and flopped back onto her pillow with a groan.

"T'wasn't that, Nico... just nevermind. Just let me sleep now, okay?" Dante closed her eyes and settled in, ignoring Nicolai. He shrugged nonchalantly and retrieved his desk from his bunk, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at her. "You're such a bitch, Jélice, but that's why I'm madly in love with you."

"Oooh, sorry to disturb you, Your Highness. But we don't want you lazin' your day away, now do we?" Nic climbed back into his own bed, leaning against the wall and watching her with a lazy gaze. Dante rolled over in bed and gave him a severe frown, but a smile flickered across her lips before she could stop it, and with a groan she flopped onto her back.

"Whaddya want, Nico? I thought I told you to fuck off and leave me alone?" Her tone was taunting, joking, and Nic only sighed melodramatically and shook his head. "Yes, but I couldn't stand another moment away from you, oh darling Anjélice of mine. And besides, my other girlfriend left me. She's a tough one, I have my work cut out for me."

Dante grinned. "Oh, poor Casanova, your chica didn't stay. Who is this lovely maiden whom you desire anyway? And don't you dare tell me you're after Rox again, after we both refused your chivalrous offers, you've been such a bastard." He huffed in mock hurt as Dante sat up in bed, sitting on the edge of her bunk and swinging her feet as she watched him.

"Actually, it is not Rox, and it isn't you either, so rest easy, sweetheart. I don't know her real name, not yet, but everyone calls her Wick..." Nic paused in his soliloquy as Dante hissed, and he frowned a little. "What? You know her?"

"Course I know her, she was in my army back at Battle School. Remember when I got in that fight? I didn't know you really then, but everyone heard the rumors. She was there, little merdana." Extremely annoyed, Dante pushed herself up from the bunk and brushed the curls from her face, rubbing the back of her neck as she walked over and palmed the door open. "Her real name is Moira Callenstrom. Go for it, Nico, but you have your work cut out for you..." Dante winked and stalked out, calling over her shoulder. "I'm off to the observatory if you need me."

Nicolai didn't look so different from the last time Sergei had seen him, almost three years before, back before Nicolai had graduated from Battle School. He was taller, of course. And his features had strengthened a bit, making him look a bit more like a man and less like a boy. But he was still Nicolai.

And now he learned that Dante was bunking her. His former commander. He wasn't looking forward to seeing her. She was one of the best commanders he'd ever had, possibly the best. And how would she remember him? As the kid that had been completely incompetant in every area that mattered. There had been launchies in that army that had been better than he was. If she remembered him -- and Sergei knew that it was too much to hope for that she wouldn't -- it would surely not be with fondness.

And they all did. Even in Fox, where just about everybody had been so nice. Even the ones that were especially nice to him, like Fargo, had started to get that look in their eyes after a while. It was pity, mostly. Pity because they knew it wasn't his fault, that he tried his best and still failed time after time after excruciating time. But there was also some resentment. Fox was a good army. And maybe it could have been a great army. But one weak link was all it took. Not that Sergei alone kept the army from success -- he wasn't so great a failure that he lost any battles for Fox. But he was the only one there that didn't deserve to be there. The others were all good soldiers. Some of them were even great. And there was Sergei, right in the middle, like the grown-ups' way of saying, "Don't get too cocky."

But what could he say? No, Nic, I don't want to see my former commander, I'm an embarrassment. He had to go. Maybe there was the chance Dante might not mention it to Nicolai.

Nicolai nodded, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he retreated into the room, returning to his bunk and finishing dressing. Rox snuck in quietly, grinning as Dante sat up in bed and pulled on her own uniform. "Little lazy this mornin,' aren't we, you two?" Nico just grunted in reply, but Dante yawned and shook her head. "Nico here wouldn't let me sleep last night, kept tryin' to chat... but I finally got him to shut the fuck up."

"Inconsiderate bastard." Rox palmed the door open as Dante stood and followed. "Hurry up, flashboy, you don't wanna be late for your little sim game this morning against Helen... I had her in my army, remember? I hope she blows you outta space." "Bite me, Jélize. You too, Rox. Have I ever lost? Yeah, now who's laughin' it up?"

Just like herself.

But she tightened her jaw against the thought and moved toward her bunk, pulling her uniform over her head with a rough yank, then straightened her undershirt. Her long fiery curls were tousled, but she only flicked a few wayward locks from her eyes before climbing into her bunk. The soft mattress sank under her weight, and nestling her head into her pillow, hair fanned beneath her, Dante closed her eyes and folded her hands over her stomach, feeling as if she were floating in loneliness.

No response.

She wasn't there. He could just leave the amulet in her Cell and it would be done. He palmed the door open and stepped inside.

It took him a moment to begin to breathe again. Dante was here after all, asleep. Her red curls covered her pillow, and she seemed fragile beyone belief with her bare arms, clad only in the undershirt. She looked no different than she had years ago, when he'd fallen asleep in her room by accident and then opened his eyes to look at her before Pallas had discovered them.

Well, not much different. Her body was adult now. She was more slender, more delicate than Kat. His mind threw up an unwelcome image of Kat's wide-eyed half-mad look as he tore her shirt, and he shoved it away. He could never treat Dante like that, never, no matter what had happened. Dante wasn't like Kat. Kat deserved it.

Burying his guilt, he approached her and knelt. For a moment it seemed ridiculously familiar, kneeling next to her bedside as he had so long ago. No battle braid to unfasten for her anymore. He wouldn't give that kind of surrender to anyone ever again. He suddenly wanted this over with, wanted to leave and go back to Kat. He took the amulet and let it slowly puddle in her lax palm.

A moment passed as she looked at him quietly, silently, still reclined as she lifting her palm to see what he had given her. The golden chain tangled in her fingers, little amulet swaying gently, almost hypnotic as she stared at it. Her charm, her protection; no longer for her, a gift for the Angel she once knew, years ago. And here he was, returning it again.

There was nothing left for her.

He sidestepped her foot and yanked, his hands on her knee and then her bare shoulders. He could have restrained her any number of ways. Why he chose to force her to her knees facing away from him with her hands behind her back only some small dark part of him he didn't want to understand knew.

She felt incredibly weak and helpless again, crying as he held her, something she had sworn she'd never feel again. Her ice was melting, heart unfreezing, and all her carefully constructed barriers slowly fell to the floor as she dropped her head in resignment.

She wasn't supposed to cry.

Mode felt a hot tear land on his neck as it fell from her cheek and winced. "No," he said quietly, and leaned down to press his lips to her throat as delicately as if she were made of rice paper, sliding the fingertips of his free hand over the smooth skin of her exposed neck and then up to her chin, tilting her face towards him. Her eyes were closed when he finally kissed her tenderly.

Even so, she didn't expect his kiss.

This was the Nathan she loved before, the gentle Angel who had wiped away her tears when she was beaten, who stood before her and fought her enemies away like the knight she thought she needed. The startling shift in him frightened her, but she didn't dare to pull away as his lips touched hers. He released her arm, but she reached up a hand to run her fingers along his jaw as she kissed him back.

Realization didn't strike her until she tasted blood from the corner of his mouth.

Her eyes opened suddenly again, and she pulled away just slightly, gaze running over his face as the violet slowly froze to mercury. Part of her fought to get free, to kiss him again and cry for all the nights she'd spent alone dreaming of him. It tried to reason away reality and relinquish her control back to the way things used to be.

He ran his tongue under his bottom lip, expressionless, until the last of it was gone. She was still here, still next to him, but the look in her eyes was clear. She was gone too.

He struggled with himself. He should leave now. He should get up and go and never return.

"Je vous pardonne, mon ange, pour ce que vous ... mais s'il vous plaît, svp me pardonne pour toute la douleur que je vous ai causé dans le retour..." her voice murmured on as she closed her eyes and felt his heart beating against her. He could never be hers again; whatever had happened to him over the past two years had hardened him, made him as cold as ice; as cold as her. She kept trying to tell herself that, kept trying to push him away and demand that he leave, tried to fight down all the memories his presence brought back to her.

Maybe things could be like they'd been before. Maybe -

"This one's a little young. Do you really think this is necessary? The agent only works half the time, even in adults. The director would never approve this."

"We haven't tested anyone in this age group yet. It may not be totally useless. Think of the possibilities, a serum that could render a soldier medically unconscious, but awake and aware. Think of all the information they could gather...especially young ones like these."

"Very well. Proceed. But just the one, you understand?"

"Of course."

Angel pulled a little harder at the nylette straps that bound him to the steel table and was rewarded with a shock of pain from the twitcher. "Easy now," the handler's voice said with a chuckle someplace near his head.

He felt the IV, and then they poured ice into his veins. He shivered, kept shivering even when he couldn't feel himself shivering anymore.

And then he knew pain.

Every nerve ending screamed with it, but he couldn't move himself at all, couldn't speak. He could hear the doctors, the nurses, every sound magnified to unbearable decibles. When true unconsciousness finally claimed him hours later, he'd had dreams full of blood, Wick's, Jor's...and Dante's. HOW COULD YOU?! his mind raged, over and over again.

Asmodeus...

Inside, Mode smirked.

This wasn't quite what she'd expected...

Her memories of Nathan had kept her both warm and cold at night, his gentle kisses, their stolen time alone. He'd always smiled when they kissed, his eyes smokey and so deep she'd always wanted to lose herself in him. This newer, harder Nathan had seemed so much colder at first, so dangerous and alone that Dante had found herself watching everyone carefully throughout the school, wary and afraid. The sudden change excited and frightened her, and she didn't want to admit that perhaps this wasn't quite what it seemed.

No. She wouldn't admit it. Because if it wasn't, she found herself not wanting to know.

She lifted her arms, tangled her hands in his hair and kissed him again, and he pressed her back gently to the floor before scooping her up and laying her on her bunk tenderly. A little voice in his head was giggling approval when he laid his head on her chest, just holding her for a moment as he had with Kat.

Dante caught her breath in her throat as he placed his hand onto her stomach, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her gently on the neck. She'd seen the hurt flash into his eyes, but it only partly allayed her own wariness and fear; even his almost broken whisper made her close her eyes tightly and wish with all her might that Nathan had never stepped back into her life.

His lids half-lowered, and he tilted his head slightly to the side. He could feel her breath on his face, coming more quickly as her eyes began to widen in fear.

"Because I love you," he said silkily - and smirked.

His hands came up more quickly than hers, and he efficiently caught them, holding her wrists captive with one hand as he dragged her undershirt up her body to tie them together and to the frame of the bunk. Anyone who survived the Institute was an expert at tying (and untying) knots, and he was better than most. He finished and sat back to survey his work.

Her wrists were caught above her head, knotted to the frame with her own shirt. The cold air over her bare skin, combined with the sudden shock of his attack, made her gasp angrily and begin to struggle. She twisted, still pinned underneath him, pulling as hard as she could with her arms, trying desperately to escape. Fiery curls slipped into her eyes as they flashed quicksilver, her surge of rage escaping as a helplessly frightened whine torn from her throat.

Still fighting madly against something she knew she couldn't possibly win, Dante found herself hissing all the angry words she'd held back, had buried within herself; everything and anything that had changed her from innocence to ice.

"You wouldn't, Nathan, please... please..." she began to beg, ragingly angry at herself for the pleading tone to her own voice, even as she continued, choking brokenly. "Don't, Nathan, I beg you please..."

Her words froze him to the core, and with a sudden sick backlash he was back in her commander's quarters in Fox, holding her as she brokenly begged him to kill her. Kill her, his precious Anjel. His mind had revolted then, and it revolted now. He felt weak and horrified and a little frightened as he pulled his hands back, reaching quickly to cover her with her blanket before moving up to her hands. She was pulling on them with enough desperation that she might hurt herself.

She couldn't move as he sat back, pulling her blanket over her bare torso before untying her hands. They were painfully swollen, and she gasped as he rubbed them to return blood to her fingers... but she yanked them from his grasp, suddenly angry and strong and as twistedly raging as he had just been. How dare he touch her, how dare he play with her like that?! Nathan was on the very edge of the bunk, and with a snarl, Dante launched herself at him, knocking him to the ground.

"I will always love you, Angel, but nothing I can say will ever change what... what happened. Take my amulet..." Dante managed a nod toward the corner of the room, where the little gold trinket lay sparkling. "If it can't protect me from you, I have no use for it... but maybe... maybe it can protect you from yourself. Go. Leave me for the last time, please, and just go."

The darkness was coming back, and he shook his head, trying to clear it. It only slowed its encroachment, and he looked back at Dante once still laying in her bunk. "I love you," he said, almost silently, before he swept up his uniform top and keyed the door to autolock behind him.

He tried palming it open again, but the little red light above the pad blinked. A third time, and it stayed on, a solid unwavering spot of crimson. Odd. Very odd. He knew that Bali and Fin were in class; he'd just seen them in the mess hall, cheerfully throwing fries at anyone who dared to pass in their direction. Which meant that there could be only one person inside... Dante. Nicolai suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"Dante!" He knocked loudly on the door, yelling louder when he heard rustling inside. "C'mon, Jélize, it's just me, Nico. I needta get inside, is everything okay? I thought that..." his voice trailed off in surprise as she unlocked the door and it slid open, her figure framed in the doorway. Nicolai caught his breath as he looked over her, taken aback by her appearance. Disheveled, fiery curls tangled about her face, jaw set resolutely as she straightened, half-dressed in her underclothes and her arms and wrists bruised. But it was her eyes that made him take a step backward; cold and burning with mercurial fire, quicksilver and hard as she watched him passively. He didn't know what to say, dropped his eyes toward the floor and mumbled an apology for disturbing her.

"Uh, sorry Jélize, I, uh, didn't mean to disturb you." His normally suave demeanor was broken as he glanced back up at her again, then looked away, unable to hold her frightening glacier gaze. "Is... is everything alright?" Dante didn't answer, merely turned around and strode silently into the room, and with some apprehension he followed her inside. She began to dress herself slowly, deliberately, and he waited with awkward uncertainty near the doorway. When she was finished, he stepped aside so she could leave, but was surprised as she walked straight up to him and buried her face into his neck.

Dante's shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around her tentatively, and he could feel her trying to catch her breath, sobbing without tears against him. Holding her tighter, Nicolai rested his chin on top of her crown, sighing and remaining still until she finally calmed herself and pulled away, staring at him again with unnerving icyness. Regaining at least some coherency, he tried to smile at her and failed, instead took one of her bruised and swollen hands in his and whispered. "Want to go to the observatory? Watch the stars and sit with me?" Taking her silence as approval, Nicolai led a silent Dante from the barracks, all the while wondering just what had happened to turn her into this frozen stranger again. He had a pretty good idea.

Swede shrugged and brushed the spikes from her eyes, pulling Rox with her before the girl could protest. Nicolai sighed and watched them leave before climbing into Dante's bunk. "Anjélice, I want to know what happened. I haven't seen you like this since..." he trailed off, blushing in anger at himself. Not since he'd first met her after Nathan's attack. She hadn't been like this for all the months at command school, except for a few short relapses where she'd retreat into silence and avoid everyone for days. "Please tell me."

"It's none of your business, Nicolai." She turned away from him, curling up onto her side and burying her face into her pillow. Nicolai sighed again and stretched out alongside her on his back, folding his hands behind his head as he stared up at the dark ceiling. Dante frowned to herself and huffed, voice muffled. "What do you think you're doing? Go away."

Without waking him, Dante carefully lifted his arm from where lay it across her stomach, silently slid from the bunk to stand above him, watching him still asleep as he mumbled and buried his face into his pillow. A tiny grin made the corners of her lips twitch upward, and after leaning over to kiss him lightly on the temple, she stepped into her boots barefooted and grabbed a fresh uniform from her drawer.

Nicolai just didn't know.

He remembered their brief acquaintance while at BattleSchool. He'd known of her before she became commander, as everyone did after the fight in Panther between her and Jorry. That was one problem, and advantage, of such close quarters; everyone knew everything about everyone else. The rumor mill had spread quickly after that altercation... as it did when she was made commander, and the confrontations between her and Jorry, her and Wick, and finally.... Nathan. He remembered really truly meeting her for the first time, a few weeks after she'd been released from the infirmary for her injuries. She was easily the coldest, most withdrawn person he'd met, and he'd hated her until he realized just what that icy shield was protecting. And now, that barrier was back up. What was he to do?

He shoved her playfully, smiling as she smirked before fluttering her eyelashes at him coyly. "Save you from what, Roxy?"

"Complete and utter boredom. I don't have anyone to play with. C'mon Nico. Play with me please?" Her tone was sardonically pleading, and she sat up to curl in his lap, tilting her head with those lilting chocolate eyes wide. He shook her head, and she frowned with mock hurt, features become downcast as she whimpered. "Pleeeeeeeeease?"

She giggled even as she begged, and he crossed his arms over his chest, managing a severe disapproving glare. "Why? Your twins leave you all alone, little geisha? We haven't played in months. The sudden change surprises me." Even his voice was slightly twinged with truth, although he knew their separation was mostly his fault. Since Dante had arrived, he'd put Rox aside to chase the other girl, leaving his once partner-in-crime to find her own playmates. But she had the twins, and if that kept them away from Dante, he would be satisfied.

"Yeah, they're after your girlfriend now." Rox snickered at the surprised expression that flashed across his face at her words. "What?!" He shifted, pushing her off of him to retreat a little, arms still crossed, but no trace of humor on his features now. She pouted, pushing her lower lip out as she poked him in the side. "Oh, don't act so hurt, Nico. It's not like you got anywhere with her. She'll be all cold and bitchy, and then you all can complain about how she's no fun, and then play with me again!"

His seriousness did nothing to deter her from her bubbling sarcasm, and Nicolai felt a hint of anger. Dominic and Donovan. They played the game, just like he did, but they should know better than to intrude. He didn't really want Dante anymore, not for that; it was her warmth underneath that ice he wanted. The twins would target her for one thing, and one thing only, and he couldn't imagine the outcome. Dante didn't seem like the type to... but the men were good, adept at their game, and Nicolai feared the worse. Damnit.

"Shut up, Rox. Just because you take them on doesn't mean... shit. You knew about this and didn't tell her? You know what they do!"

Rox's eyes narrowed, and she huffed angrily. "What are you trying to say about me, Nicolai? You hakujin bakatare, kusotare desu ne! She can handle it herself, I'm not a babysitter for every little girl they go after. If you're so concerned they'll take what you want, go tell her yourself." She shoved her hands against his chest, hard, knocking him off-balance as he fell onto his back. Her anger was anything but fake as she kicked him in the shin and stalked toward the doorway. "Too bad, Nico, you just lost two."

He watched silently as she left, rubbing his face tiredly as he sighed. Having Rox angry at him was never a good thing, and all the unwelcome thoughts of what she would do as revenge gnawed at him. Last time he'd pissed her off, and she'd gotten him ten demerit points by playing him against Bianca. Now she was really ticked off, and he regretted his rashness. Goddamnit, he cursed himself. Stupid dumbshit is right. Go find Dante. Maybe you can salvage at least her.

...when the door to her cell slid open, and Nicolai cleared his throat.

She turned to face him, unconsciously leaning against Donovan as he frowned, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the other man with hard blue eyes. Her own eyes narrowed, violet to quicksilver, and she straightened as she gave him a once over and frowned right back. "Excuse us, Nicolai."