She was not afraid of them.

There were four of them this time, and they were older than usual, bigger. They were meaner, too; it had been only two weeks since they'd arrived, and she'd already fought with them once. Sometimes once was all it took, but these ones were persistent, and as she watched them gather down the hall she knew that she'd have to finish it this time, or they'd never go away.

Their leader, the one they called Rat, smirked at her and made a gesture at the others. "Four against one, Kitty," he slurred, and some of them started to move forward. Kat held her ground and smiled brightly at him. "I didn't know they taught army rejects how to count," she said in a sweet little voice. "Did they teach you how to get your asses kicked, too?"

"Fucking bitch!" one of them shouted, and threw something at her. It shattered in front of her, and she hissed as broken glass cut her bare feet. The splash of alcohol only added insult to injury, and her eyes narrowed as she looked down at her wet, bloody feet and then back up to Rat.

He was already closing the distance between them, and now Kat could smell the alcohol on him, too, on all of them. No wonder they'd found the courage to come after her tonight. But Kat had courage too; she was just as drunk as they were, only on hate for them, hate for all the ones who thought she was something to be taken, and it made her smile return.

"Come and get it, merdana," she challenged, and when they started running she ran too. She left bloody little footprints as she sprinted down the corridor, looking over her shoulder to taunt them for their slowness, and she thought for certain that they'd give up when she suddenly ran into a brick wall.

At least, it felt like a brick wall, and the wind left her lungs in a whoosh as she was knocked to her back. From the floor she could see that it wasn't a wall at all, but someone now standing over her, and her vision swam as the someone laughed.

"Five against one," it said, and Kat realized that she had been the one to miscount.

No.

"Bitch ran straight into ya," laughed Rat's breathless voice, and Kat shook her head to clear it and tried to stand, but she never made it to her feet. The one who'd knocked her down kicked her in the ribs, and then the others were on her, and she could do little more than struggle.

They dragged her into one of the nearby rooms and threw her into the middle, circling around her like sharks ready to feed. They came at her one at a time, toying with her, the others jeering as she tried to fight them off one by one, and they were all bloody when one of them finally managed to restrain her.

"I'm first," Rat asserted, and when he started to loosen the ties at his waist, Kat suddenly understood that they weren't here to kill her at all.

The floor and walls here were cold and damp with condensation from the machinery in the next section, but he was sweating with concentration. He'd been working clumsily at the lock for almost fifteen minutes now, and each new failure left his precious metal sliver a little more bent. If he went away now he'd have to go back to his room empty-handed and then sneak past the guards again tomorrow, and there was nothing in his life at the moment that made him feel particularly lucky.

The room behind this door was one of many that had been emptied and sealed when Charybdis outgrew its previous level of operations, but that didn't mean it would be empty. All the major equipment would be gone, of course, but there might be something else he could use, something metal or glass that might serve for what he needed. What he needed was a weapon, any kind of weapon. He doubted there would be anything as refined as a needle or a scalpel, but there might be a pipe, a bottle, a jagged piece of metal or a broken test tube. A pen. A length of wire. The more violence he saw the less particular he became. Whatever he found he would teach himself to use, if he could.

Another awkward attempt at the locking mechanism took an agonizing ten minutes, and he let out his breath when the handle turned and the door opened. He slipped inside quickly and shut it behind him.

The dust was thick on the floor and damp in dark spots that he avoided. It smelled like a storm drain, metallic and damp, rust and mildew. The light was broken, but there was enough dim light coming in from windowed corridor to tell him that this had been a waste of time. The door that he'd come through had been locked, but the exit into the coridor on the other side was slightly open, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light he could tell that all the doors that he could see along the hallway were sprung. Someone else had already been here, and there was nothing left for him.

He leaned against the slimy wall and tried to get his disappointment under control. There was nothing left for him to do now except go back the way he came. There was no telling where the other hallway led. The last thing he wanted was to get lost and spend the entire night down here. One failure a night was enough.

He turned to leave and a faint, distant noise made him stop and move back toward the poorly lighted hallway. It came again, and he looked both ways and then cautiously stepped out of the room, listening.

A voice, screaming something, answered by other voices too faint for him to make out.

So what's new? I can't even protect myself. They're all crazy. Who cares what they do to each other? I need to go back before I forget the way.

The sounds grew louder as he crept down the hall. The bulbs that lined the hallway were mostly burned out, but the ones nearest where he had entered still shone steadily. The area the noises were coming from was almost entirely dark, flickering bulbs doing little to show the way. He became grateful for the dark as the voices grew clearer, rough laughter laid over the occasional curse playing bass to the high-pitched voice, young or female or both, screaming epithets and insults. He came to the door, hugged the wall and risked a quick look inside.

He counted five, not counting the screamer, and they were all absorbed in their catch. He couldn't see it, whatever it was, but he heard cloth rip and an angry yowl that made him flinch in surprise and recognition.

Kat?

He closed and opened his hands a few times, trying to think. He couldn't take all of them. He'd just end up beaten into a bloody pulp, possibly to death, and it would go that much harder for her. He could get help. From who? The guards were sections away and weren't likely to follow him back here, and even if they did it would be too late.

There was another rip. The crude shouting got louder and more colorful, and he moved into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

The first one was easy. He just grabbed the boy by the neck, kicked him in the back of the knee and then slammed his head into the concrete floor. The others didn't even notice at first. They were all drunk and focused on Kat, and after he made sure the first one wasn't getting up again he went for the second. This one was more aware but less coordinated, and he kneed him hard in the stomach and then punched him in the face. He went down, and Nathan kicked him in the stomach again and still had time to brace before the third one hit him full on.

The boy was bigger than he was, and stronger, but he wasn't faster and he was a hell of a lot less sober. Nathan took several hits before he landed a punch on the other boy's throat. There was a struggle, and Nathan knew that at any time the others were going to join in. He yanked free of the boy's grip and dodged another blow before he backed up enough to land a solid kick to the side of the other boy's head. His opponent fell back, dazed, and Nathan followed up and sank his fist into his unguarded midsection and then another just under his jaw. Nathan smashed him into the wall as hard as he could, and he went down in a boneless heap.

The two left watched the big one go down. One of them was fully occupied holding the hissing, spitting Kat. The other looked at his fallen companions and then staggered forward. Nathan was winded, but this one was too inebriated to fight effectively, and soon he joined the others on the floor. When he looked back, the one holding Kat shoved her into the wall and took off into the dark.

"Fuck you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" she screeched, throwing her weight against the hands that held her. Rat laughed, and suggested something that made her eyes widen, fill with terror, and then they all started laughing as she screamed again. "No! No!"

And then something happened.

One of them disappeared suddenly in the shadows, and there was a thump, not that anyone could hear it over her protests. Then another one vanished, and Rat noticed just as Kat did, his hands frozen on her as he looked into the darkness. "What the fuck," he cursed, and threw himself in that direction, just as someone came into view.

She couldn't tell who it was, but it didn't matter, because now there were only two on her and those were much better odds than before. With renewed fury she started kicking, and the one holding her abandoned his prize and shoved her away from him.

It was sudden enough that she had no time to regain her balance, and she impacted with the wall and bounced off, hissing in pain. Someone tried to grab her, then, but she had too much momentum and they both toppled to the floor, landing with a grunt and an angry yowl.

"No!" She was so close to escape, too close to be caught again, and she clawed at the figure beneath her. It batted her hands away and then pushed her off of it, and Kat rolled away and got to her feet just in time to see Nathan Terrence stand up.

Nathan Terrence?

"...Nathan?" She stared at him like she'd never seen him before, but he wouldn't meet her gaze, and it took a long moment until she realized why he kept looking away. Her face caught on fire then, a blush burning its way across her entire body, and she turned so that he couldn't see how frightened she really was.

Facing away, she could now see the aftermath of his rescue, and Kat forgot her embarrassment and stepped closer to the body nearest her. It was Rat. Nathan had hurt him badly, but it wasn't enough for her, not nearly enough, and a sob tore itself from her throat as she started to kick him.

She kicked him in the chin, then in the nose, once, twice, until it burst under her heel with a spurt of blood. If Nathan hadn't intervened then Kat wouldn't have stopped until Rat was dead, but intervene he did, wrapping a hand around her arm and shaking his head.

How...why would you say that? Why would you think that? I was lucky. They could have taken me apart if they'd come at me together. I could have kept walking. He felt his bruises and scrapes now, his sweat stinging in the scratches she'd given him, the throbbing in his hands, and he closed and opened his fingers reflexively.

How could she think I would do something like that? He raged silently to himself now instead of her, and turned away from her in disgust, not wanting to see her, wanting her to know how little he wanted to look at her. He yanked his shirt roughly over his head and held it out behind him in her general direction for a few seconds and then dropped it without waiting for her to take it from him.

She didn't make any sound behind him, and he crossed his arms and tried to ignore the guilty thought that hid in the back of his mind.

He didn't have to help me. He didn't have to fight them. He could have just walked away. Her face darkened briefly as he turned away from her and stripped off his shirt, her eyes intent on him for any sign that he was about to do what she'd just accused him of, but he held the garment out for her instead. The gesture surprised her, and she stared at his back, trying to justify her accusation and feeling guilty all the same. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't want something in return... right?

Apparently tired of waiting for her to take it, he dropped the shirt on the floor behind him, and Kat sighed silently before picking it up and pulling it over her head. Just having it on made most of her remaining uncertainty dissipate, and she straightened, her manner more confident and less defensive than it had been just moments before.

"You didn't have to save me," she said flatly, trying to hide the gratitude and bitterness in her tone. "No one else would have."

"You didn't have to save me. No one else would have."

Her voice was flat and almost plaintive as if he'd inconvenienced her somehow, and that made him turn around in anger. His glare softened when he saw her face. Her eyes were still wide with fright and one of them was swelling shut. Bruises were coming up on her cheeks and neck. His shirt was long on her, the hem coming down to just above her knees and the sleeves rolled up to leave her hands free.

He looked down at the floor and shrugged noncomittally. One of the bodies on the floor began to stir and caught his attention, and he became aware that they were still standing in the middle of a dark room with occupants that were not going to be happy when they woke up.

They should die.

One look at him, though, reminded her that he'd already risked enough, and one look at herself made her painfully aware that she was in no shape to do anything but walk away, and Kat sighed. "Okay," she agreed quietly, and with a last glance at Rat she followed Nathan from the room.

The hallway was dim and empty, and it made her feel more in control. This was her realm. She put a hand on his wrist when he made to open a door, and shook her head. "Wrong way." He frowned. "I came from he--"

"There are guards. You had to sneak past the guards that way." It wasn't a question, and after a moment he nodded. "This other way's better," she said, and led him further down the hall, through several rooms, and around unlit passages. Neither of them spoke, and it made it easier for her to pretend that this was like the first time, the first tour she'd given him around Charybdis, and when they finally arrived in their ward she was reluctant to leave him.

She stopped and rubbed at her eye, and he shifted his weight awkwardly.

"I'll bring your shirt back," she said after a moment. He wanted to tell her that he didn't care about the shirt, and that he could get one just as easily as she could, and that she shouldn't have to worry about it.

"Ok," he said finally, but didn't turn away. She looked at him and he looked at her, not wanting to leave her without saying something else.

It wasn't the attack that bothered her. As Kat was young, female, and not afraid to challenge anyone who approached her, it was pretty much a given that she had been, and would continue to be, attacked on a regular basis. She didn't mind. Most of the time she enjoyed it; there were few, if any, who could stand up to her, and if fighting did nothing else, at least it occupied her time.

So while she did not forgive Rat for what he had done, she was no longer frightened, nor did the nature of his attack bother her much anymore. It wasn't that. It was... that he had almost succeeded. Kat knew how to take a beating. She knew how to fight, and she knew how to win.

She did not know how to lose, and that was what was not okay.

Why didn't I go armed? Why didn't I plan it better? She was furious at herself for falling so easily, and her face darkened. Why didn't I see the fifth one?

Nathan was still watching her, and Kat turned away and fumbled with the lock on her door. "Yes," she said, her voice rough. "And you should go back to your room, before the guards find you." The coldness in her tone made him start to move back, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I don't think Rat'll know it's you. But if he does, and he tries anything, you tell me and I'll kill him."

He looked at her in surprise, and Kat smiled just enough to show her teeth. "Maybe I'll kill him anyway."