She was resting, her head back and her eyes closed. She would have looked completely at peace, if it hadn't been for the tiny frown on her face, her feathery red eyebrows drawn together slightly. Her red curls were spread out on the couch behind her. She had changed after all.

Relaxed as she was, he read the underlying tension he doubted ever left her for long. It was something new since he'd known her last, but her casual manner indicated that it had been with her a long time. About two years, he'd bet.

He considered leaving. The quiet conversation around the room had lulled as more of the occupants paused long enough to stare at his arm band and look him over before going back to their business. He stiffened a little and decided he would be damned if he was going to run away from her and give those idiots the satisfaction of chasing him away.

She avoided looking at him until he stood three feet from her. He didn't bother sitting down, just stood, looking down at her. Three feet was too far for her to consider this overt intimidation, but the hint was there anyway. He wasn't going to grovel.

"Hello, Nathan."

Her voice was a trifle lower, less girlish. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he was momentarily at a loss for words. He hadn't expected this sort of neutral reception, and this close up her presence was beginning to distract him. He had to say something quickly or be forced to retreat.

He withdrew a small metallic sphere from his uniform pocket and let it dance over the backs of his fingers as he stared at the couch arm long enough to regain his composure before turning back to her. The Institute had given him this as an assigned hobby, and it helped to calm him.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice quiet, a little warmer than it had been. He had tried to keep it cold, but her lack of ice had involuntarily thawed him a little.

A little of his ice returned, and Mode smirked bitterly, his eyes holding hers captive. The violet was back, and he drank in the color before she turned away. Her delicate profile was perfect, exactly as he remembered. Her cheekbones were a little more defined, perhaps.

Mode watched her leave, his bitter fury evaporating in the face of her gentle sincerity, to be replaced by horrified confusion. He remembered the look on her face when the MPs had dragged him past the infirmary, the cold look of satisfaction before the guard struck him down. He tried to reconcile it with the pained look in her violet eyes before she'd left just now, and couldn't. That look belonged to the old Dante, not this new version with ice in her soul and cold silver in her eyes.

And he'd hurt her again. She didn't know what she was asking about when she'd tried to inquire about his injury. He'd seen people die in there, killed by themselves, or other inmates. Or the doctors. No one cared what happened to the little BattleSchool rejects. Unsanctioned experimentation was an established way of life.

But she didn't know any of that, and now she was gone.

He wondered with dim sadness if she'd ever come back.

Mon ange...

His chill began to settle again as he looked away from the door and up into the dazzling array of stars above him. Her angel was gone. Only Mode was left. Maybe it would be better if she didn't.

Except that there was air. And students lounging on couches, soldiers reading and watching holos... it was a relaxation area of some sort. Ryan went to the far corner of the room and lay down on a couch.

The enormous window that dominated the observatory provided a resplendent view that he couldn't help but to gaze at for several seconds... irrationally, he wondered if through this window they would be able to see the Formics coming when they returned to finish off the rest of humankind...

Making his way over to where his captain was sleeping on a couch, Davn slowly raised a hand to nudge Ryan awake. But when his fingers were an inch away from touching the man's uniform, Ryan was suddenly alert and grasping his hand with a bonebreaking strength that almost made him yell out. Yet Davn gritted his teeth and glared the other soldier in the eye, for he realized with a sudden unease that there was an unobscure, desperate intensity in the man's weary expression... Ryan never let his extreme emotions show, ever... especially not to his men. There was blood on his hands, on his face, but he didn't seem to be physically injured at all. What event could have occurred since he'd last seen him that was traumatic enough to put him in a state like this?

"Ryan. Ho, hombre... we thought you were still being bitched at by that Bianca ho or some shit. Dioso, you've got fucking blood all over you... what the hell happened?"

Ryan's eyes suddenly grew bleary as he settled back down on the pillows... he glared Davn over, sighing deeply in resentment. Why the hell did that man always have to be so goddamn solacing? His voice was always warm, always so fucking gentle no matter how many obscenitites he put into it... whenever he yelled in anger it seemed to be because he was disappointed in you, not because he wanted to kill your ass... And for this, Davn was an incredibly stupid one in Ryan's eyes. War had no need for soldiers who had it in their hearts to be the best friends a captain could ever need... war required focus, ruthlessnss, and most of all, inner numbness. Why couldn't Davn get that into his thick skull? He'd spent the last twelve years trying to teach him that decency could kill a useful man...

Moments passed without either of the boys uttering a single word... Davn's eyes flickered to Ryan's shirtpocket for such a brief moment that Ryan wasn't sure he had done it at all. Yet he didn't risk looking down to see... he knew that the green material from Zion's patch must have been visible and he nonchalantly rolled over on his stomach to hide it. Still, it was hard to keep anything from Davn, at any rate... the strangest things reminded the boy of even stranger memories... strangest of all was that he always seemed to be on the right track. "Eh, hermano. Don't worry, when Zion gets here, the chulos'll stop bein' such shits and we'll be as good as we always have been under your command."

Ryan didn't answer. There was the proof, said right out loud by his most tactful soldier, that Kat had gotten rid of for him what was keeping him from being the best in all this time, that he should have done it himself a long time ago. She'd killed his most hated enemy, the one to whom him his own men turned even before him. But who could have blamed them? Zion had been a rare enigma who seemed to be best friend enough for all; he had Ryan's own leadership quality, Davn's conserved decency, Bryo's charm and Erik's infectous love for occasional insanity. He'd been a good-looking kid, though not to the extent that he could ever have been resented the way Tony was. Zion had been so goddamn loved that Ryan needed to bite his knuckle just to keep himself from screaming in enragement. And now the merdana's been made a fucking marytr.

Kat, he owed me his life. And now that you've stolen it, I'll never be avenged until you pay me with yours. You owe me my peace.

After spending the majority of her life in battle school and now command school, she'd forgotten how beautiful the stars actually were. At the boarding school back in England, she'd always sneak out on the roof on warm nights and sleep. The light from the stars and the moon had always given her comfort like a warm blanket. But when she'd gotten to battle school she had to throw away that warm blanket when she counldn't watch the stars anymore, that is short of hopping out an air lock. When she'd gotten into the launch, she'd tried to block everything out to her school work, but that wasn't sucessful, she kept on letting her mind wander. She'd eventualy spent most of her time in the Garden, just staring into space.

Once she got into Fox, her trips to the garden became more sporatic. She'd found a different source of comfort. And she'd lost it when he graduated, but she still had the hope to get it back, unlike the stars. He'd been the only one she felt could understand what had happened to her when she was 4, and when he'd been graduated she felt as empty as she had when David died.

But things would be different now, back to the way they had been in Fox. She had both of her comforts back. Still holding his hand, she squeezed it a little and hugged his arm, closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. She was back with the only person that ever truely seemed to care what happened to her.

It was great to have Helen back again. He'd gotten used to her humor, her smile, and when he'd been transferred out of Fox and eventually graduated, his initial thrill at the intricacy of the Sims and the advanced engineering material they had for him to study much dampened by her absence.

They made a good team. He could fix anything that she could fly, and vice-versa. He had been eager to get her up here, eager to play with her...

But now it felt different. Not worse, just ... different. When she kissed his cheek last night he'd been happier than he could remember being in a long, long time. His trip back home between Battle School and Command School had been disturbing. His parents had divorced, and his mother didn't even want to see him. Thoughts of their quiet camaraderie had kept him going anyway.

He remembered asking her a long time ago what she liked to do for fun, being prepared to do almost any stupid boring hobby if it bought him more time with her in the fighter sim. She'd shown him her desk and her homework and shrugged.

Now she was pulling him into unfamiliar territory, but it didn't seem that intimidating, not with her next to him. It felt strange but right. He was willing to play this new game if she wanted to; only it didn't feel like a game, not really. There were rules, and goals, but it wasn't a game.

From the little that he'd gathered from observing normal male-female relations on the station, he didn't think this was what was supposed to happen next...but then, he didn't really have any idea anyway. What he did know was that Helen had just invited him to go play on the Sim, and that was really all the information he needed.

For long minutes this lasted, comfortable quiet, but the pain in Dante's eyes as she gazed absentmindedly away did not escape Nicolai's careful notice. He knew something must have happened; her small bruised hands were resting in her lap, and reaching down without taking his arm from around her shoulders, he rested his fingers on her own. She turned then to look at him, and he was startled by the glacier iciness in her gaze, eyes mercurial and flat.

She felt a twinge of gratefulness below the ice when his own bright blue eyes softened as they watched her, and a part of her tried to smile... but whatever warmth she felt was immediately frozen as she thought of Angel. No, not Angel, not her Angel ever again. Asmodeus, that spirit of wrath who had come to her, broken her again. Her heart might have ached had she not been passive and unfeeling to all, and without a word she turned away to gaze again at the stars. For the briefest moment, she wished desperately that he had killed her, had spared her the grief that tore at her soul when she thought of all the love she'd never hold again.

Her Angel was gone... and only cold space remained.

And Bryo was a lone wolf.

Erik was on a roll. He had Mik rolling her eyes and bitching at him to get the hell away from her already... it usually took at least twenty minutes for that to happen. Poor kid. He just gets a little crazy sometimes, a little bit manic. Women can appreciate Erik, and they do; the kid was tall and fiery, zealous and quick- he apparently just wasn't the type for this certain lady here. From the way she was ignoring him, it was questionable as to whether this girl had "types" at all. Mika was making rounds, flirting playfully with each pretty girl of the group in turn. He'd move onto another one whenever his eyes would seem to glow with that trademark mischief; Bryo noticed as much when he cared to stray his attention from the girls- he could commend him for that. See, if you happened to be Mika Jayde, it was better to move out of a girl's proximity no matter how slighted she might feel than it was for you to try to satisfy that unbelievable ADD itch you would sometimes get when you became restless. But Mika was a smart kid; and being a Jayde constituted that he keep himself in control. Liex... now Liex was a surprise. He was walking in through the door with Pallas, managing not to look too clumsy as he conversed pleasantly with her who was a clear foot lower than his eyes... Yet Bryo kept a wary eye on the man, nevertheless. A brotha never knew what could set him off- Liex was a goddamn bomb.

He led the group over to a comfortable-looking archipelago of couches near the majestic view of space outside the window. Pulling Roxy and Swede down to sit beside him, Bryo tore his intriguing eyes away from the fantastic scene into the asian girl's, his deep voice softly intoning, "Damn... would ya looka dat view." He tightened his arm around Roxy's body, reaching up with a finger to trace along the girl's cheek. "Be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life." And at that moment at least, it was true. This girl had been prepping up to play with him from the moment she first set eyes on him. So let the games begin.

Adam hid his disdain at Bryo's maneuvers behind a nonchalant composure as he averted his eyes to stare into the infinity outside the spacestation. Ryan could've had that boy's ass for what he was doing, singling himself out in this way in front of his brothers. Bryo was shaking the unity, putting hos `fo bros. Yet... Adam threw that thought away soon enough. He was a self-aware man, he knew that he was only chafing at Bryo's expertise especially since that man was never serious about liking a woman unless he truly loved her (which has never happened before); and at the sight of how that gorgeous Roxy girl was reacting to his antics, Adam was feeling somewhat seethed. But now that he knew what it was, he could let it go. He took hold of Mik's hand- "C'mere, pretty roomie, what do you say we get to know each other better, eh?" -and pulled her down to sit next to him on the couch, Swede at his other side. Erik gave him a dirty look, but Adam couldn't help to think that Mik would be relieved to be away from his brother- even if it meant that he was going to be annoying her in his place. Nonplussed, Erik came over to sit at Mik's other side. Liex, as gentlemanly as anyone could ask, escorted Pallas to sit at the couch across from the one the others were on. It looked friendly between the two... to Adam, Liex looked mellow. But, as he was aware that Bryo was doing the same, Adam was subtly watching their volatile giant. He'd lived years knowing Liex... sometimes that man could be as frightening as even Tony or Oris. Their Quad's name had chosen its men rightly.

What she'd heard about the Jaydes did not at all coincide with her growing experience. All the information she'd been told about the Jaydes indicated that they were closely and tightly regimented, uninterested and independent of outside interference or alliance, and arrogant beyond belief. Antonio from the simulators had fit that profile perfectly. Kevo decidedly did not.

Liex had also proved to be courteous and gentlemanly. They'd had an interesting discussion about small-unit maneuvering on the way up to the observatory. The man took time to think out his answers, but they were surprisingly succinct and insightful. They settled onto the couch, and she decided that perhaps he might be able to tell her something more about Kevo. Never one to waste her resources, she waited until the conversation lulled and then began.

"Most beautiful thing you've ever seen? I take it all your brothers here don't count, eh?" Rox smirked playfully, fingers drumming idly against his thigh as she turned to look out the window. "Mighty fine view indeed..." with a sideways glance out of the corner of her eyes, before returning her attention to the stars. "You do something here, Bryo, beside bein' so damn handsome? Tactical, navigational... what's your speciality? I'm just a techie myself; Roxy the 'puter hacka extradordinaire, at your... service, sweetheart. Swede here be scout, she a quick flya. Mik's da guns, Pallas is our tricky strategist, and... oh, well you haven't met Dante yet. She's our tactical girl, I think you like her too, doncha agree, Nene?"

While Swede and Rox were occupied with Bryo, Pallas conversing quietly with Liex, Mik was stuck with her absolutely exasperating roommates. Adam pulled her away from Erik right as she started getting antsy for her guns, but her relief was shortlived as they both took seats on either side of her and proceeded to interrupt one another while they chatted awkwardly. As if one of them weren't enough. She rolled her eyes and cracked her knuckles loudly with a little smirk of promised malice as Erik tried to lay his arm over the seatback, brushing her shoulders. Deciding to try a different tactic, Mik fluttered her eyelashes at Adam, watching him intently with black eyes as a grin lit her face. "So... you boys like guns? Maybe I show you my toys when we get back to the room, eh? I ain't the tactical weapons tech for our quad for no reason... we could even play target practice tonight, hmm? You run..." she straightened her elbows, sighting an imaginary pistol in her hands before turning to point squarely at Erik's forehead, pulling the trigger. "And I try'n catch ya. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Yah, I tink dat Bryoo vould like Dantee... hey Roxee." Swede leaned across Bryo's lap to nod in the direction of a half-hidden corner. Just peaking over the couchback she could see two heads; one the dark tousled brown of Nicolai, the other fiery red swirls of Dante's locks. Looked like their companions had beat them to the observatory. Roxy nodded and winked up at the man, flicking an idle finger toward the other pair. "Heyo, Jélize, Nico, that you?"

Nicolai turned at the sound of her voice, propping himself on his elbows to smile in surprise and veiled appreciation. That Roxy and her girls, already with a new gang of greens to toy with. With a smirk that hid his gratefulness at being distracted from his darker thoughts, he leaned in to whisper to Dante. She nodded slightly, standing effortlessly as she stalked gracefully toward the group. Sliding into the couch opposite Bryo and the girls, she sat silently and watched the boy with flat mercurial eyes, fiery locks tumbling around her pale face as Rox grinned discreetly at her. But Dante was not in the mood to play, not after what happened with Nathan, and she felt some measure of relief as Nicolai climbed in to sit beside her again.

"Bryo, darling... this is Dante, and Nicolai, flashboy scout. They're both in Phoenix Quad. Jéli, Nico, this is Bryo, my new sweetheart. Isn't he adorable? I think I'll keep this one." She giggled and poked Bryo in the side with her fingers, tossing the hair back from her eyes as she snuggled against him. "These other fine young men are his brothers, all part of the Jayde clan. Maybe you can meet them later..."

He glanced briefly at him again as they sat on opposite ends of one of the longer couches, backs against the arms like bookends, boots not quite touching. Looking at Dom was like looking into a dignified mirror. His twin was always calm and reserved. They shared the same black hair, the same indigo eyes and olive complexion. He could - and did, when it suited them - imitate Dom's reservation without any trouble, but he preferred his own identity. His brother was just as good at playing him, but it was harder for Dom to be openly superior and charming than it was for Donovan to match his stoic reserve.

He didn't bother opening the report Dom had written for him. They'd been able to match each other's writing style years ago. The Creche had insisted. There was always the possibility that they'd be used as agents in enemy territory. They had been trained to successfully pass for each other, depending on what the situation required. That sort of assignment would have been more to Don's taste. It would have meant the removal of the Creche code at the base of their necks, just under the collar. It was the only way the Creche really had to tell them apart, and with it gone, they could have disappeared completely.

Instead they'd been shipped here three years ago. After the first few months they weren't even monitored anymore, but it hardly mattered. The Command School was a closed circuit. There was nowhere for them to go.

It wasn't all bad. The work was easy, and the other students an endless source of amusement. They came from a wide variety of emotional and ethnic backgrounds, and no two looked the same. It took some time for the novelty of that to wear off. Don and Dom had been raised with a female Creche pair, identical to each other in every physical respect. Madeleine and Melinda were nothing like the females here. The Creche only taught their children the basic necessities of survival in society. They didn't bother with its morals. As a result, the morals of others always proved an interesting puzzle.

After the initial culture shock, Dom and Don had done what they had been trained to do. They adapted and settled in. They were resented by some. The other students had almost all attended BattleSchool for some length of time. Most of the resentment came from the other men, though. The females were almost always more understanding - at least, the younger ones, while their morals were still pliable and a little uncertain. It was a favorite pastime of theirs to pick one out and hypothesize. Their entire existence had been a string of experiments. Their favorite experiment was to find which of their personalities was received more favorably by a given individual. Once that favor was received, they traded off, compared notes, and moved on to the next target. Long-term relationships were not something Dom and Don had figured out yet.

He looked away, out towards the field of stars, and spotted a girl seated with a boy, facing towards them. She was eyeing some of her other companions coldly, and didn't notice him. He felt rather than saw Dom look up at him and then follow his gaze. The girl was young, undoubtedly still green, and lovely. She also looked cold and withdrawn and completely unapproachable.

She tilted her head, delicate profile outlined against the starry void of the window. Long fiery-red locks curled slightly down her shoulders, but it was her icy silver eyes that caught his interest as she turned to stare directly at him. Such coldness; glacier calm, as if her soul was carefully guarded under a protective layer of ice. Dom had long since learned that the other... people... on this station were raised differently than he and his twin, taught to display their thoughts and live by their emotions. He felt sure that this female would prove no different.

He briefly considered that train of thought as he watched her. The vast, so intriguingly varied population in this school still held him with fascinated awe at times. He and Don had been raised in such solitude, completely untouched by outside influence, that he wondered what had prompted such a frostbite psyche. Life, for them, had been a continuous experiment that somehow developed their own separate, and yet almost identical, personalities. While Donovan managed his own arrogant charm, Dom himself remained quiet and withdrawn. They could easily switch, becoming one identity, but he preferred silent dignity over open superiority. Politeness got one into some very hard-to-reach places... but as her mercurial gaze narrowed and moved to watch her companions again, he was hard put to maintain his trademark reserve.

This one was going to be a challenge.

With feigned indifference he noted the Phoenix emblems sewn onto her uniform sleeves, then slid his glance to examine her male companion. A tiny flicker of recognizition lit, quiet acknowledgement to one who played their game. Nicolai. Perhaps not a player for the same motives, or the same ingrained instincts, but one who understood, nonetheless. And he appeared to know this female. The younger boy looked up, nodded politely twice in his and Don's direction, before returning his attention back to the girl.

Without a word to Don, he returned his gaze to the desk, silently entering the school mainframe, pulling up the soldier roster for Phoenix Quad. Personal profiles scrolled quickly down the screen under his tapping fingertips, and before long, he paused with an almost undetectable gleam of triumph in his indigo eyes. Her picture stared up at him from the display, features set calmly and resolutely as she stood with military precision, slender figure straight. Dom had to disturb his own concentration, moving to read the information listed beside her photo. Anjélice Iddantel, called "Dante," six-month soldier for Phoenix. Young... only sixteen, but with a commander's position held during tenure at BattleSchool. He noticed it then, that slight commanding demeanor she carried, as he glanced up to give her one last look before turning to meet Don's eyes. His twin opened his own desk, and Dom sent the information, veiled self-assurance flickering as Don's expression changed to what he knew as approval.

It was then he logged off from the system, closed his desk screen, and set the computer to the floor beside the couch. Settling against the armrest, he ran lazy fingers through the black spikes he wore, and his indigo irises narrowed. Another day, another game... and he was looking forward to this one with an intent that he knew was unusual. It wasn't that this female reminded him of the other Creche pair he'd been raised with-- far from it. Melinda and Madeleine were unlike any other girls he'd met in his three years here at Command School. Maybe... maybe it was that this Dante seemed so completely opposite. Yes, that was it. Having identified the source of his interest, Dom raised his head to give Don a reserved grin.

He looked down at his desk and pulled up the file Dom had sent him. Anjelice...he enjoyed those syllables as he pronounced them silently in his head as he studied her picture, glancing at the rest of her file every now and then. Soldier, Toon Leader, Commander...typical progression, though increasingly unusual for a girl. There was only one female Commander at this school, and they'd already dealt with her.

And she wasn't anything like this Dante, with her quicksilver eyes and arctic bearing that surrounded her like a shield.

Her file got more interesting. Shortly after her instatement she'd been beaten very badly by one of her soldiers. Don read the medical report without flinching. Injury to the body required repairs, not pity, and these had long since healed. Still, the list was impressive, and his eyes softened a little. The attacker had obviously lost his temper. Maybe even his mind. Her physique had certainly suffered no lasting damage, but maybe that was where their latest had acquired her ice.

He narrowed his eyes in approval. This would be interesting, no matter the result.

Imagine a shooting spree, running scared as piss from a tag game with Mik. Adam could picture it well enough. Her answer had been a witty one, he could appreciate her for it. Erik seemed to have taken the girl seriously, though, and he threw out a hand to grasp the "barrel" of Mik's gun, his hazel eyes above it firing up with a mad sort of competition. "Bet you I can catch you before miles before you can catch me. Be real, I'll meet you at the targets tonight." Adam sat back and gave his brother a humored look of cynicism. Now, he was going to have to see this. On his own, Erik wasn't much more than an above average soldier; but on that point, neither was Adam. Yet together they were like the right and left hands of a master fighter... one covers, one attacks, one flies in, the other traps... put the two of them in the same battle and they were twice better in everything than even Zion ever was. The brotherhood had dubbed them "The Twins" for this reason. But Erik by himself, against a weapons technician...? Maybe Adam should bring a camera.

Of course, she couldn't very well just leave. Nicolai was settled close beside her, acting with all the manner of a protective boyfriend, and her eyes flashed briefly at his demeanor. At least it was keeping the others from approaching her. Watching the assembly with cold eyes, Dante glanced up across the room in time to meet the gaze of an older boy, his indigo eyes staring into her with a quiet reserve that made her own freeze to mercury. He had a brother... a twin, lounging near him on the couch, and they were both looking at her with a sort of playful predatorial aura that caused her ice to rise again. Just what she needed, more trouble.

"Eh, you got dat right, brah." Distracted from her thoughts, Dante returned her attention back to Bryo. He too was watching her carefully, and a sudden flicker of annoyance lit. She didn't want to be here; she wanted to be in her barracks, buried into her bed, locked securely away from Nathan and the world. Even Rox's flirtatious air irritated her, Swede's accent grating on her nerves, and with a slight flare of her nostrils and the glacier deadness coating her eyes, Dante pushed herself standing and stalked silently from the observatory.

Rox turned to stare at Nicolai, then to Swede, and back to her friend. "Uh, Bryo darling, I think it's about time we all got some rest... need my beauty sleep, y'know, just for you." The teasing tone was in her voice, but it sounded automatic, not the same lilting laughter she normally carried. "But I'll see you around tomorrow, my sweetheart, and we can catch up then. Aria, Nico, grab Mik and Pallas when you get the chance. I'm gonna go try to find Anjélice." Planting a quick kiss on Bryo's temple, Rox extricated herself from his embrace and bounded quickly from the room.

"Let me get this straight." Mik feigned an expression of complete and utter disbelief. "You, little green Jayde, are challenging me, veteran firearms major, to a duel? Did I hear you right?" The wild grin on Erik's face was all the answer she needed, and turning to whisper with a conspiratorial grimace at Adam, she nudged him roughly. "Psst. Is your brother always this stupid, or have I hit upon a good day?"

Swede coughed, and the trio glanced up into her shadowed face. The girl had her arms crossed over her chest, but reached down a hand to pull Mik to her feet. "Vee hafta go, I'll expleen lataire. Nize to meetcha, cuteez, but diz vill hafta vait." Giving the boys a reluctant smile, Mik shook her head. "Sorry sweethearts, I guess we'll have to postpone your unfortunate deaths until the morning. See you... in the barracks tonight..." With a wink she was off, following Swede quickly out the door.

Bryo shook his head, returning his brother's smile with raised a brow. "Eh, but I coulda done betta den those hos any day. Whatcha need, brah, don't say Da Daddy sent you to tuck us into bed already?" Davn nodded. "Afraid so, hermano. So alla ya come on, neh, stick ya damn tongues back in ya'lls mouths and suck it; we gotta get to bed."

"Uhoh." Inspiration struck Erik's eyes and suddenly the man leapt up to sling an arm across Davn's shoulders. A joshing smile on his lips, he put his face close to his brother's and slurred alluringly, "El Puerto Rico's startin' a sound a bit kinky, neh? Startin' a turn me on." Adam rolled his eyes; Liex smiled slightly as Erik continued. "Tell ya what, Davn man, you can sneak into Hydra with me and Adam tonight but you gotta keep it on da down-lo, neh? Ryan be pist if he found out I be cheatin' on him." Davn smirked, putting a hand to Erik's face and tolerantly shoving the laughing boy away. "Bichino, I piss on you if you don't shut the hell up. Eh, Adam, put your bitch on a leash, neh? We go now."

Empty space, empty like... like me...

The sofa was comfortable, but everything was lost on her as she stared at the stars, silver eyes blank and unseeing. She curled herself into the corner, drawing her knees up and tucking her feet beneath her, cold face warning enough that she didn't want to be disturbed.

So much I don't understand, don't want to understand, shouldn't know about what happened... Wick, broke my life, broke my love and everything I ever held... nothing I can do anymore. Nothing can reclaim what I used to hold... so pointless, that one little girl can shatter so many lives, twist so many worlds to cause this... too much to think about, Angel is gone forever, as am I...

He'd followed Dante through the hallways, keeping adequate distance between them to keep her from noticing him. He wasn't sure why, since he was trying to catch up with her, eventually...but he wanted her to be in one place, settled. He preferred to find her. He didn't want to catch her.

His heart was beating slowly, as sluggishly as her own as liquid ice ran through her veins, painful memories pulsing. He was sorry, but she couldn't quite understand why. He didn't know her as he thought he might; no one did, not anymore. Perhaps his interference with Nathan had saved her, perhaps not. The effort of trying to make sense of everything that had happened over the years was overwhelming, and Dante shivered as the snow of her shield stopped swirling and she closed her eyes again.

"No," her voice was cold, liquid and broken. "You can't... please..." she turned back to face Donovan, bruised hands shaking and lips trembling as she lowered her chin, staring down at her wrists. Mode's touch... he's right, you know. Kill him, and release will be yours. Guilt and pain are inevitable, but rather his death than yours... nothing can save you but his death, Anjél. Nothing, no one. He's already dead to you...

Dante shattered as she stared down at her hands once more. Maybe the ice was right. All those sleepless nights, painful dreams, nightmares of their battle... maybe all that could leave her. Leave her empty, perhaps, but painless oblivion could be hers. No more Nathan to watch for, no Angel to love, no Asmodeus to fear. Nothing, and she could start rebuilding herself again.

But that weak little part of her that still loved Nathan, loved him with all her heart, remained uncertain. It didn't want to let go, hoped and dreamed that things could return to how they'd been before, even as the coldly rational part of her knew that could never happen. Donovan was correct-- it was too late. Still...

She opened her eyes suddenly as he kissed her, passive against his soft lips as she watched him wonderingly. His eyes were closed, long black lashes against his cheeks, and she sighed with confusion as he pulled away slightly to look at her. She blushed a pale pink, flustered, glancing away as violet reclaimed her and ice melted. What are you doing?!

He wasn't sure what to say, and was about to apologize when she spoke. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice was a whisper, not bitter like it had been before, just ... confused, almost fearful.

Passing his hand over her curls once more, he settled for leaning her back against him as he relaxed a little into the couch and thought about her question. Why was he doing this? The easy answer was because Dom was doing it. Dom wanted revenge on Terrence for hurting them. He understood that, of course; he wanted that too...but for the first time, he put aside himself and his brother and made himself examine the question more deeply.

He wouldn't tell her he was doing it for her, though as he sat here watching her he felt a longing to keep her safe. It wouldn't be fair to give her that impression when he didn't even -

...fair? This was just a girl, just another girl. He and Dom had never held any illusions about real affection for any of their targets. A key sequence of words and actions got them the results they desired, and that was the end of it. Roxy was as close as they'd come to finding a real companion who understood them, and even she didn't always understand. She'd never be Madeleine. None of these girls would.

Dante was no exception. She was as far from the Creche standard as it was possible to be...and for the very first time, Donovan came close to understanding what the words he and Dom had been reciting with flawless intonation and expression actually meant. He didn't love this girl...but he glimpsed what it might be like.

His final answer surprised him as much or more than it would her, he was certain.

The tiny golden amulet around her throat suddenly felt heavy, a weight on her soul, and she reached up a hand to hold it unconsciously, seeking the protection it had once given her. The charm was cold in her palm, cold as herself as she unclasped it from her neck and held it up, watching the gold twinkle in the light. Its little star, frozen like the stars outside the window, and Dante shoved it into her pocket, not wanting to feel it on her skin any longer. It meant nothing anymore.

"I never thanked you for trying to save me," she said coldly, voice dead. "You put yourself in danger, when you didn't even know me. I don't understand and I'm not going to try."

The stars were always the same. They looked exactly as they had when he'd arrived three years ago. They changed far too slowly for him to notice any real change in his lifetime without careful study, and that had always been comforting to him. Donovan, Dominic and the stars, watching the mad tangle of humanity around them with the same cold calculating interest - that was the way it had always been.

Donovan discovered that he didn't like change...but that it seemed impossible to return to what he'd been before he'd rashly chosen Dante for their next dalliance. He wanted desperately to talk to his brother, but had no idea what he'd say. For the first time, he wasn't sure that his twin would understand.

With a heavy heart, he stood and walked to the glass, breaking the rules and touching it with the outspread fingertips of his right hand. The Creche tattoo under his collar itched. They'd had them drawn on their fifth birthday. They had treated it like a game then, before they knew what it meant. Before they knew they were laboratory property. As soon as they'd found that out, it had become us and them, had been that way ever since, and now he'd managed to involve them in something that threatened to destroy that natural order.

Donovan could see no way out, and wasn't sure he'd take one if he could.

Rye slid onto the seat beside her, resting as he looked out the great window into space, and she tilted her head to watch him intently as he stared. It wasn't uncomfortable, their being together after so many months. It felt... right. Natural order, like when she'd been his toon leader and he her second, when they commanded their own toon and life was relatively normal. Things had taken a long time to settle down after the big battle, and some aspects were never the same again. Swede and Dante both became withdrawn, spending more time together in silence. Words weren't needed. They'd been beaten, and knew it. Rye provided her comfort, to which she was grateful, but their brief attempt at something more had been effectively destroyed.

Could it come back? Swede wasn't quite sure.

Tiring, Rye. Overwhelming. Lonely since I left. Frightening, now that Nathan is back. Life is difficult. Busy. Exhausting and now even more dangerous. So many answers. Her arm unconsciously wrapped around her side as she exhaled wearily and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the arm he had rested along the couchback.