"Y-y-yes, yes, Katgirl, I know, you know, I wouldn't lie to you, I wouldn't, you know?"

"I know. Now tell me again. I like hearing it."

"They... they're letting him out, you know, out of the labs, they said Nathan Terrence is out of the labs, you know, and he's okay, you know, not dead, he's okay, you know, like you wanted."

Sandre received a grin as his reward for another recital of the news, but he didn't return the smile. It wasn't meant to be returned. Instead he waited silently, nervous and shifty, his eyes looking longingly toward the door, but his captor wasn't about to let him go, not yet.

"Who else knows?"

"I don't know, you know, I don't know everything, Katgirl, you know, but I could find out for you if you wanted, you know?"

"I want to know. Find out. Anything else?"

"Well, uh, y-you know, I heard...heard about Burr."

"What about?"

"Wh-what, what you, what you did, you know, to Burr."

"And that, Sandre, is why I'd better find Nathan in his room today, remember? And that's also why you shouldn't tell anyone what you heard about Burr. Now one last time. Tell me."

"Nathan Terrence, is alive, you know?"

"I know. Get out."

Sandre bolted, the door slammed, and Kat smiled to herself in the sudden silence. The smile turned into a grin that lit her face, brightened her eyes, made her expression sharp and satisfied and hungry, all at once.

He's not dead. He's okay. He survived, he lived through the labs, just like they said he wouldn't, exactly like they said I wouldn't. He survived too. He's alive. I don't know why it matters, but he's alive.

Now we can play again. That must be why I care.

The tiny, unacknowledged angel in her conscious was smiling too, because deep down, Kat had been worried about Nathan Terrence.

His room was no longer the little barren cave he'd left before. He'd returned to a different place, altogether larger and more comfortable, with a table and a dumb terminal desk that would allow him to participate in coursework not available to the general patient population. Instead of the eternal faded blue scrubs they wore almost exclusively in the lower wards, trousers and shirts hung in his tiny closet. They'd given him boots with shoelaces, and a jacket with a zipper, which meant he'd probably be going outside soon. They'd given him a belt, and they hadn't denied him access to the less supervised areas of the institute.

That meant they were testing him, and that meant freedom, eventually, as long as he behaved himself. Freedom meant many things to other people - life, security, happiness - but to Asmodeus, it meant something else first. Once that was done, then he could go about learning the details of being human again. Until then, they would only get in the way.

A knock on his door made him turn his gaze towards it, and he caught the ball adroitly and stood, slipping it into his pocket. Probably Dr. Reynolds, come to see how he was settling in. He moved to the door and palmed it open, his face already set in the calm, cold lines she liked best.

Katera Quistin stood outside his door, and he was too surprised to do more than watch her blankly for a few moments as she took in his appearance, his clothes, his laces, his belt. By the time she'd finished surveying and drawing the inevitable conclusions, he was feeling defensive, and any discomfiture her abrupt appearance had caused him vanished.

Her loose blue scrubs, torn and spotted with blood along the cuffs, were pointedly conspicuous amongst the civilian clothes worn by the patients who peered out of their rooms and eyed her disdainfully. She unconsciously straightened as she walked, aware of their surveillance, and managed not to do anything outwardly threatening for all of the ten minutes it took her to make it to Nathan's room.

This didn't seem right. Maybe Sandre had been wrong, maybe he'd been lying, although that too seemed as out of place as she felt as she stood outside the door supposedly housing Nathan. Why would they have placed him here? She hadn't been given this treatment when she'd been released from the labs, and that gave her a sort of sulking anger; enough anger that she finally got the confidence to knock on the door.

Nathan answered. Sandre had been telling the truth, after all, but Kat hadn't wanted to believe it. It wasn't fair. She stood there in the doorway, disheveled and feeling decidedly small, as he towered over her. Her gaze ran over him, from his bootlaces to his belt, and jealousy flooded over her, filled her sharp cat eyes to the brim and almost overflowered, and combined with an unwilling relief at discovering that he was indeed alright, the expression on Kat's face was nearly incredulous.

There was enough bitterness in her tone for him to overlook the unwelcome relief he suspected might be lurking beneath it, and that gave him the distance he needed to relax and respond the way he wanted to, the way Dr. Reynolds expected him to. For all he knew, they'd sent her to test him. Whether it was an impromptu exam or not, he intended to pass it. Resolve made his manner chill instead of merely reserved, and his tone cool instead of uncertain.

She ignored the question, because she was too involved with jealousy to really listen to what he had to say. "Look at you, Angel, all dressed up." Her tone continued to be bitter, no matter how much she tried to hide it. "A few months away, and they give you all these fancy things. Now you get to be a pet, instead of one of us."

Why should I care what they give him? Why does it matter so much?

Kat wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers clenching the material of her shirt, as if she had to hold herself back to keep from running away. She couldn't leave, because that would be admitting that she cared, but it was so hard to stand there without desperately wanting everything he'd been given.

It's... it's not fair. He gets all this, and soon they'll let him go... and then it'll just be me again. I don't want to stay here. I want to go too.

She should know. She's been here long enough to know.

His mood was mollified by her obvious realization of his superior situation, and his forehead smoothed back into the calm complacence he'd paid so heavily to learn. "Thanks, Kat," he said coolly, looking her over the same way she'd studied him. In contrast, her outfit was garishly institutional, the worn, faded material washed and rewashed thousands of times and worn by hundreds of inmates - whoever happened to pick it up first after laundry day. Asmodeus looked at her face, at the bitterness and frustration born of years of being passed over for real rehab, and wondered why the hell she'd stayed as long as she had. Comparatively, he'd only been in a short while before they'd taken him downstairs where the real fun was. He knew from Sandre that she'd been down there just as quickly after she came, but something had made them reject her as a possibility. Surely she could have played along like he had.

He could tell from her expression that she didn't understand it either, and that was why she was angry now - not because he was leaving, or because he was leaving her, but because she was stuck here, and she didn't even know why.

He was different. His time away had changed him, and it made everything seem that much more uncertain; Kat had few steady things in her life, and those she did have she clung to fervently. She had just begun to settle into a way with Nathan when he'd been sent downstairs, and now that he was back, it was all different.

"But not Angel. Call me Asmodeus." He smirked at her, and she looked up at him in confusion. "I like it." Kat frowned a little, wondering, but repeated the name quietly. "Asmodeus." He nodded, and spoke some more, moving aside and motioning her into his room, but she stayed in the doorway and tried to assimilate yet another change. "Asmodeus." Her face brightened, and she smiled at him. "I like it too."

It took her a moment to understand that he'd invited her in, but even as he waited, she couldn't bring herself to go inside. If she did, it'd be too much. She'd want it all, and she knew she couldn't; to let herself see his gift would only remind her of what she didn't have, and it was hard enough to get by without longing for something she could never gain.

"No. No, I... I don't want to." The effort required to turn down his offer cost her more than it should have, and she backed away a few steps, lowering her eyes and shaking her head. "I should go. I just wanted to see that you were alright."

I can't stand this anymore. It's just not fair.

"Yes, send her in," she said crisply, and the door opened to admit a surprised and very wary Katera Quistin. Corrina took this advantage to survey her prospect. The girl was strong but feminine, with nails far longer than the ward restrictions were supposed to permit, but the orderlies who'd collected her this morning had deprived her of anything else sharp. She'd had the girl brought in several hours ago, to give herself time to organize what she intended to do without risking Kat chatting with Nathan - with Asmodeus, she corrected herself with an internal smile - unsupervised.

It had taken some doing, but Corrina was finally satisfied with her final product; Terrence was well on the road to recovery. When his parole board came up in three months, she was confident he would pass with flying colors. It was now time to institute the second stage of the experiment. Terrence was as good as on the shuttle.

Getting Katera Quistin in there with him was going to be far more difficult.

Terrence had still been on his way to Charybdis when Corrina chose him to be her demonstration case for the new IF treatment timetable. It was pure luck that Quistin happened to be in his ward, and even greater luck that she reacted to him as she did, instead of doing something that might have put him out of commission. It had taken a great deal of optimism (and a great need to remain inconspicuous to the upper management) to leave him in the same area with Quistin when she discovered the girl had taken an interest in him, but it had paid off more generously than she had ever expected.

Quistin's file was well-documented. Dr. Victor Legault had been explicit in his outlines of young Katera's various complexes and deviations. After she'd done some research to see if there was anything she could do to make him less interesting to the ward's most dangerous female, she began to understand why Terrence fascinated her. He bore a remarkable resemblance to a childhood friend of hers, one Jaxen Narita, and Legault's speculations on that subject were extremely interesting.

When it became clear that Quistin didn't intend to harm Terrence, she'd put her aside as more of a harmless nuisance to her pet project than a threat. It wasn't until after Quistin saved him from serious injury by some of the other students that she recognized the real prize she'd been awarded. Katera Quistin was a savage, but she was a savage who could become fiercely attached. There was no end to the possibilities of mayhem that could ensue if she could send Kat up with Terrence.

As soon as she knew the remaking of Nathan Terrence had been successful, Corrina had requested and received permission to take over Quistin's case. Legault had just shaken his head and grinned at her. "These people are all broken, Reynolds," he'd said. "But not all were meant to be healed by man. Some work must be left to God, and that isn't your rank yet, you know."

Corrina didn't believe in God, but she did know her work, and if she could satisfy herself that Katera was capable of performing to specifications, she intended to have her "healed" and tucked in with Asmodeus when the shuttle for Command School departed.

Despair filled her when they locked her in an empty holding cell; despair and fear that she'd denied to herself that she felt ever since she'd arrived at Charybdis. An hour later the orderlies returned, and Kat felt some glimmer of hope, but it quickly left her as they restrained her roughly and began to search her. She struggled, spitting and hissing, but they took the shiv she'd hidden around her ankle, and bereft of a weapon she was left again in the cold concrete room.

What did I do? I swear, I swear I haven't done anything, not... not lately. A whole week I've been good. Maybe they just want to talk. Maybe it isn't bad.

Optimism never lasted long, and a more terrifying possibility replaced it, a possibility that filled her eyes with horror and left her speechless.

Maybe they want to send me back down.

Kat tried to find it in herself to fight, but the next time the orderlies opened her door, she didn't even resist. Nothing she did would matter. Nothing mattered. Resigned and afraid, she let them lead her away, and it took her a long time to realize that they weren't taking her downstairs. Instead they led her to an office, and she was pointed in the direction of a door. When she stepped inside, wary and suspicious, there was a woman seated across the room who smiled at her.

"Hello, Katera. I'm Dr. Reynolds, your new physician. Won't you have a seat?"

Kat stared dumbfounded at her for a moment before hiding it all behind a blank expression, but her eyes held her wonderment and fright as she hesitantly sat down, perching on the edge of the seat nervously as if ready to flee. Dr. Reynolds looked her over, and Kat returned the gesture, a little defiance to mask her anxiety, and it made the woman smile at her again.

She didn't speak, however, and after some very serious mental debate, Kat decided that whatever this was for, it couldn't get worse. A new physician probably only meant new testing, and having long ago been told she would never leave, Kat was finding it hard to be polite.

Her emotionless smile devolved to nothing, and she gestured to the chair in front of the desk. It was necessary to maintain control of this conversation, and to do that she could afford to put forth the truth, as she wanted Kat to know it.

Kat had long ago stamped it down into nonexistence, because it had no place in the dark, dim hallways and bloody survival that had become her life. It meant nothing. They'd tortured her and healed her and left her to rot, and if that wasn't enough to keep her from wishing for freedom, then certainly Dr. Legault's last meeting with her was.

"You can't be treated, Katera. I've tried everything with you and you won't cooperate. That's it."

It was cruel, Kat decided as she stared at this new doctor, to tease her with a hope like that. Parole. She repeated the word over and over in her mind, tasting it, testing it. Parole. Parole.

If I'm interested in completing my treatment here. I've been interested for the past eight years. I would have killed for this, to be let free, but no one cared. This will end like all the other times. They'll just keep me here, or send me back down. I can't escape.

She wanted to scream at the woman, cry with the injustice of it, but even despite her most fervent attempts to remain rational, Kat couldn't help but hope.

"Dr. Legault was equally dramatic when I requested to take over your case. I disagree. It is my opinion that there are no patients that cannot be treated successfully, Katera - only those who will not be. I don't think you or anyone else falls into the first category; whether you are part of the second remains to be seen." She eyed the girl coldly for a moment to let that sink in and then continued.

"I have read your file, and I am familiar with all that Dr. Legault attempted in his efforts to cure you. While some of his methods were outdated and a little extreme, he did expend a great deal of effort to make a success of you, and I think his failure was the reason he marked you as an incorrigible. I, on the other hand, believe I have pinpointed the reason he failed with you, Katera, and I don't intend to make the same mistake."

Her predecessors had treated Kat in differing manners, but none of them had understood her enough to offer the right escape. The psychiatrists at the detainment facility had alternately ignored her or goaded her, and Kat did not respond well when angry or rejected. Hentredan had sent her to the labs, and being tortured had not improved her willingness to cooperate. Legault had gotten her out, but he wanted to talk about feelings, he wanted her to tell him how wrong she'd been, and at eight years old, Kat didn't understand how she'd been at fault.

But she understood now. It wasn't that Kat felt any more remorse, any more guilt, or any more sorry for what she'd done to Gabe, to Sol, to Jax or to Zion. The only difference now is that she knew how to fake what she felt, well enough to make someone else believe it, and that was where she had failed so long ago. It was just a game, one with freedom as its prize, and eight years surviving in the depths of Charybdis had given Kat just what she needed to win this time.

Violence has kept me alive, and lies will set me free. I can play that game. I'll do whatever you want, Dr. Reynolds.

...but not anything. Not the labs again, not even for freedom.

Corrina looked at Katera a long time before replying. It wouldn't work to have Katera thinking she could bargain into getting her way. It also wouldn't work to have Katera uncooperative because she was in constant fear of being taken down to the laboratories. There wasn't any real chance of that recurring, but she wasn't sure Quistin should know that yet. It was something she feared, and that was a valuable asset.

A compromise, then.

She hid her resolve behind a complacent face and a submissive manner; she gave Dr. Reynolds exactly what she wanted. "I just want to be better."

"I believe you." Corrina stood up and pressed the security pad on the side of her desk. When the guard appeared, she nodded to Quistin and then looked to him. "Take her to the Placement Center and let her bathe. The staff there will have my orders for her by then. Do not allow her to stop anywhere for anything and do not allow her to speak to anyone." These last two directives she spoke while looking directly into the girl's eyes, searching for a challenge. If the girl couldn't hide her temper over this, she didn't have a chance.

There was a slightly tightening of her features, but the overall effect was minute enough to pass inspection, and Corrina looked back to the guard.

"Now."

The guard escorted Quistin from the room, and Corrina sat back in her chair and toyed absently with her pen.

It's a gamble, but I think she can pull it off - as far as parole goes, anyway - and if Terrence doesn't regress like I expect him to, she will be excellent insurance.

As she'd said before, Corrina didn't like to waste time. She entered the orders for Quistin to be moved to the ward just below Terrence's. It would be good if they saw each other every now and then, but not too often - she wanted their association to be primed without being allowed to become functional. She arranged for suitable clothing and made certain they would only share one class. The rest of the details would fall into place, just like everything else in this experiment. She even made a few notes in her log, but Corrina hated to waste time, and when these were completed she closed it down and got back to work.

The order and challenge she swallowed and did her best to ignore, and the effort must have been sufficient because the guard escorted her away. Kat was docile and obedient and kept her eyes to the ground, and the man didn't speak to her once. He led her to an area she'd never seen before, and gave her to a female guard, who took her to the showers.

They had hot water. The showers in her ward had been kept lukewarm, so that no one could burn themselves, but when Kat twisted the knob as far as it would go the water scalded her, and she yelped in surprise. Then she smiled, and almost danced under the spray, steam clouding everywhere as she luxuriated in the rare heat. For this alone she would have done just about anything.

The guard told her to hurry up, and when she finally emerged, there were clothes waiting for her. They were not the faded scrubs she was accustomed to, and her eyes widened in childish delight as she ran over and examined the trousers, the button-up shirt, the boots and belt and shoelaces. Everything she had coveted on Mode was now hers, too, and even the guard smiled at her as she practically beamed with pleasure.

Clean, dressed, and almost happy, Kat followed the woman guard back through the corridors. These were the hallways she had self-consciously slunk through the night before when she'd visited Mode, but now they were going to be her new home, and she glanced around rapidly as if trying to memorize everything at once.

They gave her a room, a real room, with a bed and a desk and a chair. Virtually the same room they'd given Mode, but this time Kat didn't hesitate to go inside. She was instantly everywhere, examining every nook and cranny, poking experimentally at the keys on her desk, and peering the closet and drawers. Amazing.

All this for playing along. I should have done this years ago.

A sound at the door interrupted her survey and made her whirl around, her eyes gleaming a bright, sharp emerald, and so excited was she that she had to remind herself to breathe as she stared at the man who stood in her doorway.

"Hello, Katera," he said, with a smile. "I'm James, your new Keeper."

The room he'd seen before, dozens of times; they all looked the same. The girl, however, was extremely uncommon, if her file was accurate. She didn't seem like a bloodthirsty psychotic - but then, they wouldn't have sent her here if she hadn't made phenomenal progress. It was hard to believe, though; her face was innocent and delighted, and made him want to be delighted too, just to make her happy. She was also rather pretty, but that wouldn't have made any difference to him. While on duty, he was to be friend and confidant, and a guard against the other patients, and he was good at that. He liked his job. He'd only lost one of his wards to regression during his three years here, and that had been a lost cause from the beginning - or so his conscience preferred to think. That one had taught him he had to be prepared to play captor in addition to his other more pleasant roles, but he didn't think that was going to be an issue this time.

He could tell about people now, and this girl was going to make it. All he had to do was help her along so she'd be ready when parole came through.

So many choices. I get to choose for myself?

Kat's face brightened even more, if that was possible, but not even her happiness could keep her busy little mind from beginning to scheme. She kept the innocent mask plastered over her expression, enthusiastically asked James to tell her everything, and set about surveying this bigger, better toy she'd been given.

His was a face easily recognized as cute and as easily forgotten; there was nothing remarkable about his light brown hair and friendly brown eyes, at least nothing that Kat could see. He seemed open and just as pleased to be here as she was, and the sincerity was unmistakeable. That she wasn't afraid of him made her instantly suspicious, because she should have been wary of any Charybdis administrator. Her smile faded, but she adopted a look of studious concentration as he began to talk, and he didn't seem to notice the calculation in her eyes.

He doesn't look very strong. I could fight him easy, even without a weapon. He asked a question and she nodded automatically, her thoughts running too fast to really focus on his words, although she stored away the information he was giving her. But I can't do that anymore. I... can't fight anymore. They'll get mad if I leave here. That realization dampened her pleasure a touch more. But it won't be much longer. He's treating me nice. Maybe he thinks I'm better, now, better than I was when I had Legault.

Now, that thought made her grin. It's just a game, right?

When he finished telling her about her classes-- mostly she just gathered that she'd have to work hard, which wasn't a particular concern of hers-- Kat contrived a look of interest and looked to James. "I've been here eight years. How long have you been here?"

I... I don't know how to decide all these things.

He stood up and replaced the chair at the little table. "Tell you what. You look over the menu, and when I come get you for dinner you have something picked out. If we're early, they might be able to arrange for something tonight. I've got some other stuff to take care of, but I'll come pick you up at...oh, 18:30?" He grinned again. "It's been a pleasure, Kat. I'll see you later to....ah." He had happened to look down at Kat's boots. The laces there were knotted over and over, creating one huge knot, and the ends of the laces draped to the ground with a couple of inches to spare on either side.

He fiddled with the desk and explained things to her, and she was astounded to read all the different things she could have. It was hard to pull her eyes away from the desk screen, but when she did he smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

She easily dismissed his warning about being careful not to let anyone else in her room-- as if she'd want to see anyone, save Mode, and as if she would really face any serious danger from an intruder-- and just nodded. He was ready to leave when he glanced down at her boots, and when he gave her a funny look, she in turn examined her boots. What was wrong?

"That's an interesting way of tying your shoes."

Kat looked a little closer, examining her knots, but couldn't find anything wrong. That's how she always tied her shoes... or at least, that's how she'd done it before, eight years ago. Surely they didn't have a different way now.

"It isn't easy to untie them like that, is it?" he asked uncertainly as he knelt at her feet. She was seated on the edge of the bed, and he lifted on of her booted feet to his knee to examine it more closely. It really was one big mass of knot, and it took him several moments of tugging to get the laces untangled. She didn't say anything, though even without looking up he had the general impression of nervousness from her.

Once he had the laces on the first shoe untied, he did look up, and she was watching him with an unreadable expression that he took for nervous attention. "The way I do it is by making loops. Some people do it by tying around one loop and pulling it through, but I never figured that out myself." He smiled absently and then looked down at the shoe, and slowly demonstrated the tying process. "That makes a tie you can untie pretty easily, but won't come apart unless you want it to. Like this." And he pulled on a tie to untie it, and then retied it again, slowly, so she could see the process one more time.

What is he doing? I don't have anything, I'm unarmed... I want to know what's going on. Is he going to attack me? Maybe--

Her train of worried thought ceased abruptly as he crouched in front of her and lifted one of her boots to his knee. Then he began to try to untie the knots she'd made, and she relaxed a little, but his close proximity was still discomforting.

Now what is he doing? That's... that's not how to do it. J-bear taught me the right way.

She watched James like a cat watches a mouse, closely and suspiciously and a little hungrily, but he smiled at her and she was careful to keep her expression blank. His slow, almost babying tone was just beginning to irritate her when he finished and spoke. "Alright, you do the other one."

Kat was skeptical. It looked like an awful lot of trouble just to tie one's bootlaces; all those loops and things. "Are you sure that's how you tie it?"

"Yes. Think you can try it?"

Fiiiiiiiiiiine. But I like J-bear's way better.

All in all, he was pleased with his first interview with his new ward. She seemed good-natured, intelligent and eager to learn. His only regret was that he would have so little time to get to know her before her parole came through - which he had no doubt it would when the board met again in three months.

I could get used to this.

Three hours until he returned; there was so much to do and so little time! Kat hopped to her feet and continued her exploration of the room, searching for hiding places and anything she might be able to play with.

She took all the clothes out of her closet and examined them all in turn, playing with the buttons and buckles and zippers, and beaming happily the entire time. The bed was solid welded steel, and she couldn't find any pieces to fashion into a shiv, even after poking and prodding and huffing with frustration for an entire half hour. Kat had to remind herself that it wouldn't be allowed anyway before she let it pass and moved on to her next survey.

Pounding away on her desk provided entertainment for over an hour, and she used the time to read over her school schedule, admire the kitchen menus, and look at any information she could get her clawed little hands on. There wasn't much she could do-- the system had her pretty well corralled-- but it was fun nonetheless.

After having thoroughly explored the entirety of the room, Kat was just putting everything back into place neatly when there was a knock on her door. James peered in, and Kat looked around the room quickly to make sure it was clean before grinning innocently at him, and he grinned back and nodded toward the corridor.

"Hungry?"

Pork chops and stuffing were what they ended up with, and red and green jello cubes with whipped cream for dessert. He guided her to one of the tables, and when he pulled her chair out for her she moved over a seat and sat down, so he sighed and took the seat himself.

He didn't realize how much assistance she was going to need until he saw her pick up the knife and grip it with a fist and then try to turn the blade to a proper angle to cut the meat. James let her continue for a moment and waited until she looked surreptitiously at him to see what he was doing, and then he gave her a small encouraging smile and demonstrated.

She really was down there a while.

After a few unsuccessful attempts, she mastered it, and began to make clumsy chunks that she gradually cut down into very small pieces. She looked like she was having fun, and her zeal made him grin. She'd pick up manners after eating here for a while. For now it was fun to watch her enjoy herself.

James subtly showed her how it was done, and she abandoned her attempts to stab the meat in favor of actually cutting it-- a new concept, admittedly-- and managed to get it down into bite-sized pieces. Having been accustomed to zealously guarding her food, she stuffed a few pieces quickly into her mouth, trying to chew and keep her eye out for thieves at the same time. James grinned at her, and Kat gave him a chipmunk-cheeked grin back.

He asked her how it was, and she just nodded enthusiastically, her mouth too full to allow for speaking. She practically inhaled her dinner, because everything tasted too new and too delicious for her to eat slowly like James was doing, and he was still working on his dinner when she started in on her dessert.

The taste of whipped cream and sugar made her eyes widen, and she looked up to him in surprise, licking the points of her canines and beaming. She was still smiling a moment later when a blonde head across the room caught her attention, but her eyes narrowed and her grin became more predatory as her target shifted a little and looked at her.

Asmodeus!

Her sudden reversal in situation brought the amusement back into her smile, and with a spoon in one hand and a knife in the other-- she'd been unwilling to let go of the knife-- she waved merrily at Asmodeus.

He smiled and gave a small one-handed wave at Julia, and she gave a single nod and went back to her dinner and her ward. James had always thought she was really too reserved for a keeper. What these kids needed was warmth and understanding, not stoic silence. But it wasn't really up to him, and she had an excellent record. Maybe it just depended on the kid.

But... but I want it.

James didn't appear angry, though, and that was odd; certainly he'd read her files. Maybe he really did think she was better and wouldn't want such things anymore. That was an amusing idea, and her sullenness disappeared when she realized that she could come back to the cafeteria and have a knife every single day.

She practically skipped through the halls as they walked back to her room, and he smiled and left her with a pleased goodnight at her door. It wasn't until she had the light off and was curled in bed that the realization really hit her, and Kat wound herself tightly in the blankets as she shivered.

I'm... I'm here. Not in D-ward anymore. No one's going to come in my room tonight and try to hurt me. They're not going to take my things and send me downstairs. I'm.... safe. Safe?

It was a foreign concept, and suddenly everything seemed too big, too dark, and too unfamiliar. After hours of tossing and turning, Kat finally dragged her pillow and blanket from the bed, retreated to the tiny closet, and coiled in a corner to sleep.

Katera was nowhere in immediate evidence, but James spotted the trailing blanket corner before he got too worried, and a few seconds later a very tousled head poked free of the closet door and looked at him with sleepy green eyes. He smiled reassuringly as he approached, and she climbed out and stood up to meet him with the blanket still wrapped around her over her pajamas.

He looked into the now-empty closet and then back to her. It wasn't unusual for the kids who'd been down there a long time to have strange sleeping habits. He'd never seen anyone sleep in the closet before, but he had seen under the bed, behind the door and under and on top of the table. That was practically normal, for now. Maybe not so normal a week from now.

"Sleep ok?" he asked lightly. "The beds here are pretty comfortable. I know it takes some getting used to, but you might try them out." Then he brightened. "Actually, we're going shopping this afternoon when you're done with school, and I do believe that the store carries hammocks. Maybe that would be more comfortable for you." He grinned and then checked his watch. "However, at the moment we're running a little late. I'm going to step outside so you can get dressed, and then I'll walk you to your classes, ok?"

She nodded sleepily, and he grinned and walked back through the door, letting it close behind him, and waited. She was done pretty quickly, all things considered, and in less than ten minutes they were standing in front of the classrooms with a few minutes to spare. Most of the wards were already inside, but it wouldn't hurt to delay her a few more moments to tell her where everything was. She still looked pretty sleepy when he finally sent her in, but she did follow the directions he'd given her to get to her first class. The first day was always rough. Tomorrow would be easier.

But today was also going to be fun, and James was looking forward to this afternoon when he got to take her to the little store the Institute had set up for the wards to learn to budget. They were given an allowance every week, and once a week they were allowed to go "shopping". This exercise served to teach them budgeting skills and also allowed them to personalize their rooms, and James enjoyed it as much as his wards did.

When he arrived to meet her after school, she wasn't out yet, but he had only been waiting a little while when she appeared, looking far more alert and greeting him with a smile. He smiled back.

All things considered, it had been a good day so far, if a bit hectic. She wasn't at all used to being woken so early in the morning; Kat was more of a night person, and combined with her nervousness, she hadn't slept terribly well. It bothered her further when she realized that the keeper had gotten into her room without her notice, but she was really too tired to be angry at herself.

Her classes were... interesting. Kat was a quick learner, and had scored rather highly on all her Battleschool entrance exams, but even with sporadic classes over the past eight years, she was sadly behind. Hard work was going to be in order, but she liked math and tactics, and wasn't too terribly concerned with passing her courses.

She only saw Asmodeus once, in her history class, but other than acknowledging eye contact he had ignored her completely. A little put out, Kat ignored him too, and neither had the chance to talk to one another.

Is this going to be all work and no play?

The answer to that came when her keeper met her once her studies were over. He seemed excited, and when her hazy memory of the morning provided her with an explanation, she was all smiles. He... he was going to take her shopping, and Kat hadn't been shopping since she was five years old and her father had to carry her to keep her from breaking everything in sight.

She kept up a constant stream of chatter as they made their way to the little store, alternating between asking him questions about everything and telling him everything about her day. It made him smile at her a lot, and Kat would have feigned cheeriness anytime just to see him smile. They were sincere smiles, not at all condenscending or patronizing or cruel, and he was actually nice to her; Kat kept up the act, even though at times it irritated her, because she wasn't about to anger the first person to treat her kindly.

Then they stepped into the store, and the amount of contraband made her take a quick breath as she bounced on her toes and tried to look everywhere at once. "Can I have that?" she asked a million times, pointing at everything, and James laughed some more and tried to explain her budget. Kat didn't listen to a single word.

After she'd calmed down enough for him to explain a little more clearly, he got a chance to tell her about her budget. "Alright. You've got two hundred dollars to spend initially, and then you get thirty dollars each week to spend or save as you want to. You can't spend more than what you've got, so you'll have to decide what you want most...so, technically, yes, you can have anything, as long as you can afford it, but you can't have everything, at least, not at once." He grinned at her and pointed out the different departments.

"Ok. There's basic furniture stuff you can buy over there - that's where they have the hammocks, by the way. Most people don't bother buying a new desk or chair, but then, most people are happy with the bed, so you'll have to decide what you want."

She looked at everything. It had been since so long since she'd seen anything but bare concrete walls and steel furniture bolted to the floor, and there were so many things to play with! James mostly hung behind at the register and talked to the clerk there, letting her wander the store on her own.

It was amazing, how many contraband items there were; sometimes she looked around furtively, wondering if someone were going to come take away what she'd picked up. Once or twice she suspiciously asked James if it was permissible, and he'd just laugh at her skepticism and nod. Amazing!

There was a giant fluffy blanket in the furniture section that drew her attention, in the bright crimson that was her favorite color. Kat immediately picked it up and rubbed her cheek against it, and for the rest of the time she dragged it with her around the store. With no security shiv, she'd found a security blanket.

A deck of cards reminded her of the poker she'd used to play with J-Bear, and so she grabbed those, too; it was an added bonus that the cards had pictures of cats on them, and James laughed even more when she showed them to him.

It took her nearly an hour, but Kat had her arms piled full of toys when she finally made her way up to the register, and only the top of her head and a pair of green eyes managed to peer over the pile as she held out her discoveries.

The clerk put everything in plastic bags and James helped her tote it back to her room and distribute it appropriately. There were pictures of brilliant scenery and a large poster of the forest he hung up for her, and they spent half an hour shifting them until she decided they were "straight". The books she bought went into the built-in shelving.

After they'd finished unpacking, he let her teach him some strange variant of poker she claimed she knew, but he had a feeling she was making the rules up as she went a long - and to her own advantage. When she'd had enough of thrashing him, he taught her go fish, and when she got bored with that he tried gin rummy, not really expecting her to pick it up. She surprised him by doing well enough the first round for him to let her win. He got the impression that he wouldn't have to let her win for very long.

Decorating her room was only the beginning. When she'd discovered that the store had pictures of the wilderness, she'd bought tons; posters of trees and pictures of mountains and one panorama photo set of a forest and stream. It reminded her of the woods behind the I.F. facility, the woods where Jax lay, and she made James hang that one over her bed, where she could see it when she woke up in the morning and before she slept every night.

That done, she made an attempt to teach James poker, but she kept forgetting the rules, and after yesterday's discovery that J-bear hadn't taught her the "right" way to tie her shoes, she had to wonder if his method of poker wasn't right, either. Still, she slaughtered James mercilessly, and her smug satisfaction continued when he taught her new games and she won them too.

She was disappointed when he finally made to leave, but he was insistent. He showed her how the alarm clock worked, reminded her to wake up on time, and left her with a grin. Kat peeked out the door and watched him walk away down the hallway, until he was out of sight, before she went back inside and locked the door.

It didn't take more than five minutes before she was fast asleep in bed, clinging to her new blanket and with one hand stretched above her head, as if even in sleep she was reaching toward the picture of trees.

There was a tingle that told Sandre the guard was about to look back, and he froze. Three seconds later the man's head came around, but he made no movement to indicate he saw the small, thin figure crouched in the dark shadow of the hallway. In a few minutes, the guard would leave to go to the restroom, and he might be able to sneak past, if the key worked, if the door was quiet, if the guard took long enough, and if something else didn't come at him out of the dark before all the other ifs had a chance to happen.

Another tingle, and Sandre moved when the guard moved, the man moving towards the little restroom cubicle while the boy slunk towards the door. As soon as he was securely inside, Sandre made a dash for it. A tingle caught him in mid-dash and almost made him trip into the closed portal. Someone was watching him. He couldn't keep from glancing around nervously, but he did it while he was fishing for the null key-card and passing it through the slot. It would only work once, but that didn't bother Sandre. He'd be trapped on the other side, away from the others, and they could take him to solitary in the morning.

He just had to know.

The door clicked open, and Sandre snuck through, closing the door behind him. It was almost shut when something heavy hit it from the other side, forcing it open six inches. Whoever had been watching wanted to do more than watch. He moaned in fear and shoved with all his meager might, but he was easily being overpowered.

The guard saved him unintentionally. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he heard the gruff adult voice growl at the other intruder, and then the door was pulled to violently. Attached as he was, Sandre went with it, but his mass impacting on the surface was too small for the distracted guard to notice. He slid to the floor and whimpered silently for a few moments until the pain in his cheek and shoulder faded and he dragged himself to his feet to continue his search.

He knew what number her cell was, but he didn't know the layout, and so he crept around the ward until he found a room. It didn't have any numbers in common with hers. He kept looking, moving at the slow, painful pace he knew he could listen at. There would be tingles before anyone could get close enough to see him, as long as he stayed low and kept to the dark, and that was something Sandre did well.

Gotta find Katgirl, gotta find out when she's comin back...

Sandre was searching for his life.

She terrified him, just like all the really bad ones, but she wasn't crazy like most of them were. Sandre was a dealmaker in a world full of cheaters, and Kat made good on hers. She never really hurt him, and she made sure none of the others hurt him too bad, but she'd been gone for four days, and the others were beginning to realize she wasn't coming back. It wasn't like when she was in solitary; then they knew she'd be back, and they left Sandre alone. Now it was circulating that she was gone for good, and tonight was probably the last night he'd have to make sure, if it was true. He knew what it would be like. He'd lived like that before Kat picked him up.

He didn't want to live like that again. He wasn't sure he could. He could take being beaten up every now and then, but they'd do more. They almost had, tonight, but he'd gotten away with nothing but a bloody lip and a good number of bruises. He wasn't strong, but he was fast. If he thought there was a chance he could escape like that even half the time, he might not have bothered, but there were too many. There were always too many.

If he could have, he'd have killed someone so they'd put him in solitary forever, but the tingles were bad enough as it was. Everyone in Charybdis was in some sort of pain all the time, and Sandre was getting it every time he was close to them. Inflicting pain wasn't something he was capable of. It was a matter of self-preservation. That meant solitary would only ever be a temporary haven. His doctor had long since given up on him, and Sandre was out of options.

He had to find Kat.

The next hall had numbers that were closer to hers, and when he finally found the door, he was almost afraid to knock. He tried to just open it but it was locked, and he knocked, the low, furtive knock he always used. After another eternity the door slid aside, and Sandre despaired. He stared at the buttons on her sleeping clothes and the impossibilities in the room beyond, but he was too transfixed by his own disaster to speak.

She wiped a hand across her eyes to clear the blurriness and shuffled to the door, making sure she was presentable before she palmed the lock. "Mmmrrr, James? What is i--"

Her words stopped abruptly when she noticed the apparition on the other side, and her eyes widened.

Sandre? What....

He stared at her as she stared at him, his gaze taking in her clothes and buttons and room as hers examined his bloody lip and the bruises that were scattered over his face and arms. He didn't say anything, but Kat grabbed his arm and tugged him in before he had a chance to protest. She made sure the door was closed securely behind them before she let go of his arm, but it was only to take hold of his chin in one hand so she could examine his face.

Her expression darkened as she read his fear, and the rage that had been dormant for the past few days reemerged, stronger than ever. Fury filled her eyes, twisted her features, and her voice was a hiss.

Anger... anger was familiar and to be expected, especially under circumstances such as these. Displeasure, too, upon seeing what had happened to her favorite spy. Still, amongst all the fury and irritation at seeing Sandre so mistreated in her absence, Kat hadn't expected to feel sadness.

He was weak, and she was strong; such was the way of life. She had fought and clawed her way to the top, to be the ruler of the lower wards. It didn't matter who she had to maim or kill upon the way, because no one would care if she was hurt; it was every man for himself, and that was the game.

Despite all this, Kat couldn't help but feel remorse, as she looked down into Sandre's face and understood his despair. She'd felt that same despair not so long ago, and knowing that she soon would be freed only deepened her understanding.

They would never have dared to do this when I ruled there, but... he's right. I'm not going back, and there isn't anything I can do. If I could, I would. I really would.

She knew that if she released him then he would leave, and she wasn't willing to let him go, not yet. There had to be something she could do. They stared at eachother in silence, guilt at her luck mixing with anger at his disheveled state, but she didn't speak, and neither did he.

I'm sorry, Sandre, but I can't help you anymore.

It finally got so uncomfortable that she felt she had to say something, and she sighed, searching for a solution that she knew didn't exist. "It's not your fault. You didn't know I was going to leave." She shook her head angrily, her canines bared as her eyes heated again. "Is it the army brats? You... you tell them what I did to Burr, you tell them if I hear you've been hurt that I'll come down and hurt them. It... it's not much, I really can't, but.... but maybe it'll buy you time."

They both knew it was a lie, and Kat sighed again, dropping her hold on him. "I'm sorry, but I can't do anything. Not this time."

He gave her one last, terrified look and bolted, and Kat's eyes were resigned and sad as she watched him flee.

She really couldn't have asked for more. Every morning she worked her way through classes, learning about the outside world. Every afternoon she spent with James, playing games or watching movies, always having fun. And every night she slept warm and safe in a comfortable bed, surrounded by pictures of trees and dreaming of pine needles and daggers. It was the most secure, the most stable, time that Kat could ever remember living.

It was easy to pretend like Corrina wanted her to pretend; cheeriness and obedience were an act to play, another part of her game. At times Kat found it difficult to choke down her rage, because she was still caged and had no outlet for battle, but she restrained her anger until she was alone, and no one was the wiser. In classes she was respectful, and for James she was always happy, always excited, always friendly. After awhile she became so apt at acting that she could almost forget it was an act.

James. He was another interesting character in her little play. So unused to normal human interaction, it took Kat a few weeks to adapt to his continuous presence. She kept expecting him to be cruel to her, to hit her or hurt her or get angry with her, but if anything he was nicer. He was a friend in a place that Kat had never thought to find a friend, and she found that she came to depend upon him. Not to protect her or teach her, but to give her kindness.

They'd come about a mutual comradery, one Kat hadn't held since her days with Jax. She no longer shied away from him if he came near, didn't jump at his touch or become suspicious at his smiles. She came to enjoy spending time with him, and always tried to think of little jokes to tell him, tried to do well at her schoolwork to earn his praise, and did her best to keep him pleased with her. In return, he gave her all the attention that she could want, and Kat was beginning to grow very attached to her personal toy.

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaames, I'm boooooored. Where are you? We're going to be late.

It was early morning, and she was up at her normal time, dressed and awake and ready for school. She bounced idly on her bed, waiting for James to come pick her up and escort her to class, but he was late. He was never late. Kat worried a little, but tried to find something to occupy her time, which meant staring at the posters on her walls and examining her fingernails and huffing in frustration every time she glanced at her clock and found that another minute had passed.

A knock finally came on her door, and she was on her feet in an instant, across the room and halfway through the doorway before she ran smack into him. They both backstepped in surprise, and Kat peered up into his face and grinned and grabbed at his hand, trying to get him to start walking.

Her expression was moving past confusion and into irritation, so he relented at last and shook his head. "We're not going that way today, Kat," he said jovially. "Do you know what today is?" She looked at him blankly, and his smile half-faded.

My God. She really doesn't know.

"We're not going that way today, Kat. Do you know what today is?"

It's Wednesday. It's a school day. It's nothing new. Is it supposed to be something important? She regarded him flatly, because she was completely clueless and rather irritated about being clueless, and his grin waned for a moment.

Then he squeezed her hand, and smiled at her, and spoke. His words made her freeze, and she stared at him, surprise and hurt and happiness bleeding golden in her eyes.

"My birthday?" Her voice was small and uncertain, and she tried to pull away, but he kept her hand in his. "I... I don't remember. Is it... is it really my birthday?"

I haven't had a birthday since.... since back on Earth. With J-Bear and Daddy. We had cake, and... I don't remember anything else.

When he trusted his voice, he pulled away from her and looked down at her face. "Sixteen," he said at last. "You're sixteen years old today." His emotion made his expression a little too serious, and he became aware of that about the same time he became aware of their inappropriate proximity. There was too much still swimming in her eyes for him to consider letting her go, but he did force a half-smile and look slightly away.

"Sixteen," he told her. "You're sixteen years old today."

Sixteen? I should have known. Eight years free, and eight years here. But it... it all seems the same, after so long.

He seemed uncomfortable, and she suddenly realized that she was hugging him. Her face flushed, and Kat tugged away abruptly, looking down at the floor and waiting for the heat to leave her cheeks before she responded to his intriguing little statement.