Don't Call Me A Hero

[InnocentThorns]

"Could you stop grinning? It's freaking me out."


Maggie glanced at her reflection in the compact she was holding, "I didn't realize."


"The hell you didn't," Malcolm replied, glancing at her from the driver's seat of the van marked 'Caruther's Bros. Cleaning' on the side.


She let out a huff of a laugh and opened a tube of crimson red lipstick, applying it carefully.


"Maybe."


"Maybe for once you could look a little serious about this," he groused. "You are breaking into a heavily guarded military facility."


"Just like I've done a million times before."


Malcolm snorted, "I swear you like this."


"Of course I like it. I might go as far as it brings me joy, Malcolm."


"That's twisted, Maggie."


"Is it?" Maggie asked, her light tone gone.


"Yeah, kinda."


After a moment she just shrugged and opened the passenger side door, slipping out. Running shoes crunched against the old gravel access road where they were parked, and she looked back up at Malcolm wordlessly. He knew what to do if she was not back in a half hour, or forty five minutes, tops, as he put it. But the thought of being abandoned never bothered her.


"You look like a clandestine secretary on laundry day."


"You say the most flattering things. Well, see you in a bit."


Maggie took off at a job, knowing the was not wrong. The vibrant red lipstick did not go with the dark gray yoga pants, the navy blue t-shirt, or the black zippered hooded sweatshirt. But it did go with the neat bun into which she had gathered her chestnut hair, and then daintily wrapped it with a black satin bow. Nothing went with the tight ballistics gloves she was wearing though.


When she got further down the road, trees thinning and the road easing into pavement, she pulled the hood up over her hair. Looming before her was a massive, heavy gate of metal, barbed wire at the top. There were surveillance cameras at the top of the support poles, and in the relative silence of the unofficial back door, she could hear the mechanical whir of them spotting her.


Experience took over, and she lowered her head, avoiding direct contact. Se knew the second she destroyed those cameras, she would be found out, but it stuck with her, all she had been forced to learn. At least this way, something kind of good came from that whole mess. Those cameras would be the first to go, though.


White gold energy crackled around her gloved hands, and Maggie let loose enough electrified plasma to not only shut the cameras down, but melt their insides and knock out most of the camera network. Eyes in the sky out of way, the gate was up next. Her pale green eyes went up and down the length of it, trying to decide how to get rid of it.


In the end, she just tore through it first by freezing the metal with a layer of silver blue supercold plasma and then shattering it with the regular violet plasma she produced. Walking through the convenient hole she made, Maggie recalled the schematics of the base that she had memorized, and headed to the right.


The first batch of soldiers she came across never had a chance. They were wearing government-issued superhuman handling gear, but she was in a destructive mood. They opened fire, only to have bullets ricocheted back at them. Her plasma made a good shield, semi-permeable so that oxygen could get inside, and kept any of them from hitting her.


Once they had exhausted their first round of clips, she moved, plasma grabbing soldiers, tossing them around like dolls, though they hit the ground hard enough that none of them got up again. Certain they were all down and not at all caring that some of their necks were at gruesomely absurd angles, Maggie continued on until she came to the main building she was searching for.


"Magnolia Vartan! You are under arrest! Lie down on the ground and place your hands by your head!"


The sound of guns being cocked was deafening. Maggie turned from where she had been freezing the wall and lifted her hands on either side of her head. Another group of soldiers had made a semicircle around her, guns at the ready. Her focus found the commanding officer and she smiled.


"Really? You know who I am just by what I've done? That's...actually kind of cool."


For that reason along was why she did not kill him. The others were casualties of her snap judgment, and bullets that hit her sudden plasma shield dropped to the ground harmless before she just allowed electrified plasma to jump from gun to gun, stopping their hearts. They were alone then, her and the commander, and he dropped his gun in surrender.


"Please. I have a family."


Her amused smile disappeared into something cold and unreadable, "That makes you special now? Gives you the right to help them force people into service?"


The commander could tell there was no real right answer here, so he kept silent. Maggie trapped him in a dome of plasma, and unlike her own shields, this was not microscopically semi-permeable. He immediately began to gasp for air.


"The correct answer is no," she said with an eerie calm. "No, you don't have the right."


After he gasped and clawed at the plasma a moment or two more, she let him go, watching him drop, still alive, before she tore her way into the facility. From there, it was a point of getting to the detention wing. Leaving a trail of soldiers behind her, she ignored the wailing sirens and glanced at the security screens.


There was someone in the cells, just as the intel had told them. Going to his door, she froze the hinges and tore them off, the door falling off to the outside. Walking over it, she stepped inside and pulled back her hood. She held out a hand to the occupant of the room, aware that she probably looked exactly like what she was. A terrorist.


"Want to get out of here?"

 

[One of a Kind]

"Hello, is anyone there?"


A man dressed in a medical gown tapped on the one-way mirror hoping that someone would respond. He couldn't see through the glass so he wasn't entirely sure if anybody was watching him. After waiting for a bit, it became clear that regardless of whether or not anybody was observing him, nobody was going to let him out.


Sighing in exasperation, the man left his spot by the glass and sat down on the small bed situated in the corner. The room was completely empty save for the bed the man was seated on, a toilet, and a sink. The walls were a bleak white, leaving the room void of color. Was this a hospital or some sort of lab? But why was he here in the first place? Was he sick with some sort of disease or something? Or maybe he was being kept in some sort of mental asylum?


Questions began to coarse through his head. An icy chill ran through the young man's back as one question eclipsed all of his other questions... who was he?


He placed his right palm onto his forehead as his head was overcome with an agonizing headache. He couldn't even remember his own name. An icy chill ran through his back after he realized that the life he had led up to this point was unknown to him. All he could remember was waking up in this desolate room a couple of minutes ago.


Turning to face the one-way mirror, the amnesiac began to study his reflection. He appeared to be quite young, around his mid twenties. His hair was a light chestnut and was slightly long while his eyes were a piercing blue. It felt weird surveying his own face; it felt felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.


His gaze shifted from his reflection the door which was keeping him confined in the tiny room. It was a rather bulky looking door with several sets of locks running down it. Above the door read the number #012. Was that his room number or maybe that was a number assigned to him?


The lone man was filled with a strong desire to leave this room. Regardless, the amnesiac laid down and closed his eyes, knowing that there was no way out. He would just have to wait until someone came for him.


...


The nameless man's eyes shot open. He lifted himself up before briefly stretching and lying back down. He was still here. There were no windows or clock so it was hard to tell how long it'd been since he had first woken up. The only factor he could use for telling time were the trays of food which were placed by his door every time he woke up. He had gone through 117 meals allowing him to estimate that it's been around two months.


He looked at his bruised hands remembering how much time he had spent hammering at the door. And once his hands were to damaged to continue banging away, he then tried screaming until his throat was raw and his voice was no more. And now, he had resorted to abstinence from eating. He wasn't sure exactly how long it was since he had last ate, but it sure felt like an eternity. He didn't know who he was or how important he was to his captors, but unless they wanted him to starve to death, someone was going to come for him soon. The desperate man smiled bitterly, even if nobody came for him, death had to be better than this hell.


His thoughts were interrupted as an alarm began to blare outside. Was this building on fire? Shortly after, the door that he had spent weeks pounding on fell to the side. In came a hooded stranger who lifted their hood, revealing a women around the same age as him. She offered her hand to him, "Want to get out of here?"


Although her appearance was shady at best, none of that mattered right now. This was his one ticket out of this nightmare, another opportunity would not present itself. Without a moment of hesitation, the nameless man took her hand, "Please."

 

[InnocentThorns]

He took her hand, and Maggie just kind of shrugged.


"Well, that was easy."


Holding his hand, she moved to the doorway again and looked both ways before glancing back at her wayward charge. Maggie could remember the confusion, the uncertainty of not knowing who you were, the bitter realization that nobody around you cared or understood what you were going through. The need to cling to the first semblance of comfort.


"It's going to be okay," she told him. "We can talk later. Right now I need you to do what I say when I say it. Because all I want to do is get us out of here alive."


She them took him out of the cell, ignoring the dead bodies in their wake. Maggie supposed she should have been horrified, but truth be told, she was capable of so much worse. Looking back at him, she attempted to judge his reaction, to see if he was disgusted by her of it he could handle it.


Together, they ran down a different hallway from where she entered, and encountered another group of soldiers. Maggie put a protective barrier around the man and turned back to the deluge of soldiers. These were different, they knew bullets were useless, and they came after her with tasers and knives.


She managed to block a taser strike by absorbing the charge with plasma and sending it back down the lines, knocking the soldier on his ass, and frying his central nervous system in the process. But one of them got his knife into her, grazing her thigh, and Maggie hissed in pain, grabbing the knife with plasma and jerking it out of his hand. He was backing away when the energy flung it into his chest.


Her leg ached, that was bad, and now they were definitely on the clock. She made short work of the others, energy grabbing limbs and twisting, the sickening crack of bones shattering filling the air. When the way was clear, she reached for her charge's hand again, the shield dropping.


"Come on. Not much further now."


Truthfully, the audacity of her escape plan was what appealed to her. At the end of it all, Maggie just walked him out the front doors. There was really nobody left to stop them. There were undoubtedly scientists and administrative workers there, but she had no quarrel with them as long as she was able to escape. So they headed for the back gates, to the road where Malcolm was waiting three quarters of a mile away. Her leg kept oozing blood, her pants sticking to her thigh.


"Just a little further," she promised as much for him as for herself.


In the distance she saw the van, and it began rolling toward them slowly. Malcolm pulled up next to them, removing his flak jacket to reveal the nondescript t-shirt underneath. Tall, dark skinned and made of wiry muscle, he would still stand out because he was also an extremely handsome man. Maggi jerked open the back of the van, urging the man in before she crawled in as well, her leg giving out. Malcolm took off and glanced back at her.


"Mags? You okay?"


"Knife got too close. Nothing serious," she replied.


Glancing around, she leaned over to grab a first aid kit from the corner of the van and began cleaning her leg. Opening the kit, she pulled out gauze and saline and tried to clean off some of the drying blood.


"I'm Maggie Vartan," she said, introducing herself. "That's Malcolm Howard."


"Hey," Malcolm said from the front.


"I'm sure you've got questions," Maggie continued. "Fire away."

 

[One of a Kind]

The captive was ecstatic to finally leave what had been his prison for the last two months. He couldn't wait to get outside and get some fresh air, eat food which wasn't the same gruel this hell had served him everyday, and get some real cloths so that he could finally rip off this damn medical gown. But above else, the man wanted to recover his lost memories. He needed to know whether or not he had a family or if there was anyone out there looking for him.Leaving that tiny cell was the first step in doing so. With all this in mind, the nameless man took his liberator's hand, allowing her to take the lead.


His jubilation was short lived as it was instantly eclipsed with dread. As he left his cell, since he had been in the presence of white, and only white, for two months, the red stains were the first to catch his attention. He was horrified by what he saw. Bodies lined the hallway, all of them still fresh.


But that girl, she was walking past all of their corpses as if they were nothing. There was no doubt that she was responsible for all of this.


Overwhelmed by all the, the man with no memories entered a state of shock.


...


When he finally came to, he discovered himself to be in what appeared to be a van driving away from the facility he had been imprisoned in. Inside, he found himself in the company of the girl from earlier as well as an unknown man who was driving the van. They both introduced themselves to him before the girl, who's name was apparently Maggie, asked him if there's anything he would like to know.


Instantly, dozens of questions flooded his head. He wanted to know who he was and why he had been kept in that facility. And that girl, although he was in shock, he managed to catch a glimpse of her using some sort of power. Nothing was making sense and everything felt like a mystery.


Yet despite all the questions he had, he couldn't bring himself to give a rat's ass about any of that. Unable to control his anger, he glared at his savior, "You... Just what the hell was all that? All those people, why did you kill them?"

 

[InnocentThorns]

"Oh hell..." Malcolm muttered.


Maggie did not look up at him. She could have gone on an hour long diatribe about why. About why they deserved it, about why she had to. But it seemed like it would be an excellent way to send him running back to the government uninformed and afraid. That was not what she was trying to do at all.


"Because they were trying to keep us from leaving."


She sucked in a sharp breath as she cleaned her wound, and then pressed a gauze pad against it, wrapping it as well as she could with the first aid kit. She would need stitches, but those would wait until she got back to the bunker. Then a real doctor could do something for her. She leaned her head back against the side of the van, fading sunlight washing over the lower half of her face, igniting the red of her unmarred lipstick.


"Those weren't innocent people. They were soldiers paid to keep you from leaving because the government wants to use you. That's what the government does to people like us. They turn us into murderers and whores and steals our lives from us for an unknowable greater good. A greater good that benefits them and only them."


Maggie looked up at him, "Also, I'm a terrorist. I'm supposed to do bad things, aren't I?"


Malcolm tried to take control of the situation, "Hey, don't worry about it, pal. Maggie is just our most...vehement volunteer in the name of carnage. There are plenty of folks in the Superhumanitarian Freedom Coalition that are pacifists and just want to help you. So here's how things are going to go. We're heading back to our bunker. You're welcome to have a real shower, a real meal, get some real clothes. Our identification team will try to figure out who you were, and you'll get as much info as we can give you."


"Then you can make up your mind," she interrupted. "Whether you want to stay and help us, or just try to make a life for yourself. There's no pressure here. We're not like them. Everyone who joins us did so by their choice alone."


Grimacing slightly, she reached over for a wool blanket, knowing she was going into a slight amount of shock. But instead, she held it out to the man she had saved. He was probably cold, in a deep state of shock, and despite all appearances, Maggie's bark was worse than her bite unless someone was trying to stop her. Getting in her way was obviously a mistake and she wanted everyone to know it.


"Hey Malcolm?"


"Yeah?" he replied, eyes on the road.


"Can you turn up the heat? Also, they knew who I was. They called my name."


That took his eyes away from the heater for a moment, "Shit, really?"


A satisfied smile touched her lips, "Yeah, really."


"Better tell MacInerny."


"I will," she replied. "It was, admittedly, the coolest thing."


Malcolm shook his head, "I maintain the judgment that you're insane."


"Only because they made me that way," she replied softly.

 

[One of a Kind]

Still irked by the entire situation, the newly freed prisoner refused to accept the blanket, quietly muttering, "I'm fine."


It may be true that those people were the one's who had been keeping him captive for the last two months. But even so, he never would have wished this upon any of them. None of them deserved such a fate. After all, it was doubtful that any of those soldiers were the ones who were calling the shots; they were simply doing their job. They were just trying to make some money and live their lives to the best of their ability.


But this women, she acted as if all of their lives were worthless, believing that killing was okay as long as she was justified. Not to mention, the way she flat out referred to herself as a terrorist would make one think that she's proud of it. And for the icing on the cake, there are those weird powers she was using earlier. This women was definitely dangerous.


The man leaned back in his seat before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. All sorts of emotions were rippling through him. He needed to take a second and calm down before analyzing the situation.


These two strangers were acting awfully kind despite being terrorist. Perhaps he was simply being naive due to the lack of human contact, but he couldn't sense any ill intentions from either of them. It was strange how they genuinely cared about him even though they've just met. Just why were they helping him?


That's when it hit him. Earlier, Maggie had used the words us and we when describing what the government did to people like them. Was it possible that she was referring to those powers she had used earlier? And if so... did that mean he had some sort of ability as well.


After regaining his composure and setting his emotions aside, the man continued on with his questions, "You keep grouping me with you people, saying how the government is trying to use us. What is it that they want from us?" He paused, scared to find the answer to this next question, "Just what am I?"

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie's expression softened into something a little more real than the hard terrorist that she seemed to be. It was a glimpse behind the curtain, where a small candle still burned, though not brightly or well. It was sympathetic and calm, and she curled her good leg under her body to be more comfortable.


"I know. It's going to be hard."


She took a slow breath, "You're a superhuman. Just like I am. It's why you can't remember anything about yourself."


Opening her hand palm side up, a little flicker of violet energy appeared to dance around her fingertips, "We're different. Special. If anyone calls you a freak, belt them across the face. Anyway, the government has been taking people they think they can use and triggers them. We don't come into our abilities until we're caught up in a traumatic event. Can you remember what happened just before you woke up in that place?"


She hoped he did not. Maggie hoped that he would be devoid of the memories of what happened to trigger him. If only because she had seen her own. They had recorded it for what Commander Carter Figg had called 'Inspirational information'. One of many mistakes Figg had made, but she would never talk about that. Not with anyone.


"Don't delude yourself. The government never asked your permission, they never let you volunteer or think about it. They just take people. Steal them from the lives and people they love and wipe them clean. Because they want..."


"We need you to save the world, Maggie..."


"Because they want to make us into weapons they can control," she finished, shaking off the echoes of the memory in her mind.


She reached up and took the ribbon out of her hair, her long auburn locks falling down her back in waves, and she used her fingers to shake it out comfortably. Then she tucked the ribbon away carefully in one pocket, as if she needed to keep it like a precious memento. Her eyes went back to the young man sitting across from her.


"The Superhumanitarian Freedom Coalition is dedicated to freeing the innocent citizens the government has forcibly conscripted into service and to building up rights for people like us. There's nothing to protect superhumans right now. Except us."


Driving along, the van took them off the main highway onto an older road, still paved, but not nearly as well maintained. It disappeared into a little valley, and he turned off onto a gravel road. Malcolm got them to the opening of the bunker, that looked like a normal ranch-style house with a brick façade and a two-car garage. He parked the van in the garage, the sun blocked out by the garage. Opening the back of the van, Malcolm helped her get out, and she limped to the side to give the man room to get out as well.


Turning back, she held her hand out to him, "Come on. It's probably been a while since you've been outside."


Maggie glanced at Malcolm, "Go ahead and go inside. We're just going to take a moment out here, okay?"


Malcolm nodded and shouldered a worn bag, heading to a normal looking door and disappearing inside. The garage door was still open, nothing inside to indicate that this was the headquarters of an anti-government militia faction, but outside was the soft, wild sounds of the natural world. Maggie limped outside and closed her eyes, just feeling the warmth of the sunshine on her face.


"I'll never take this feeling for granted again the rest of my life," she admitted softly.

 

[One of a Kind]

"I'm not human?"


An unpleasant shiver crawled down the superhuman's back. There had to be some sort of mistake. Why did this have to happen to him of all people?


Then there was that traumatizing experience she had talked about. He thought long and hard, trying to remember anything abput his past. But to no suprise, nothing came to him. It was as if he had never existed until that time he had first woken up in the lab. The mere thought of that was enough to cause the unknown man to shift uncomfortably in his seat before sitting the rest of the ride in silence.


Once they had reached their destination, the newly developed superhuman stepped out of the van. His breath was immediately taken away from him. Despite knowing the entire concept of the sky and whatnot, since he had no memories, this was basically his first time actually seeing it. Streaks of white tufts weaved their way through an endless sea of cobalt blue. Then there was the sun which was kind enough to grace him with light which didn't originate from a fluorescent light bulb. Wanting to treasure this moment, the man closed his eyes, listening to the surrounding sounds as his hazel hair was caught in the gentle breeze.


"This must be heaven."


The man briefly glanced at his companion to find that she, too, was in a state of awe. With that peaceful face she was wearing, you would never guess that she was a terrorist with a vendetta against the government.


The man frowned, remembering what had happened earlier. This women, she really had hood intentions. She was only trying to do what she believed was right. But the way she was going about it, nothing would ever get accomplished this way. How exactly was she planning on taking on the full force of the US government? Plus, by engaging in acts of terrorism, you would only give superhumans a bad reputation with the public. If you wanted to spark any change, you would need to bring these injustices to the attention of the citizens.


Finished with that train of thought, the man noticed a small faucet on the side of the house. Immediately, the man realized how thirsty he was, considering how he hadn't drank anything in over a day. He walked over to the faucet before turning the valve. Although the water wasn't exactly for drinking, he couldn't care less. He cupped his hands together before bringing the water to his lips. After gulping it down, he was going to get some more when something supernatural occurred.


The water from the faucet wasn't falling to the ground, but was instead flowing upwards before coiling around his left arm.


Startled by this, the man recoiled in suprise, "What the hell?"

 

[InnocentThorns]

"You'll notice things. The simple things. I think I probably took them for granted before. But now I appreciate every little thing about being free, about choosing my own path."


Maggie glanced over at him, "By the way...being superhuman doesn't mean you aren't human any more. We're humans. We always have been. We're just a little...more. A little more human. Don't ever think you're not a human being."


She smiled a little as the water reacted to his natural abilities and she came over to take a look, crouching down, "Well, I would say that your abilities have something to do with elemental control, possibly just hydromanipulation. That's the fancy word for controlling water. But that's something you can discover when you're in the labs, doing your own experimenting. This is a safe place for superhumans to figure out what they're capable of. Most of the people who come here are like you, don't know what they can do."


Straightening up, she pushed some hair away from her face, "Let's go inside. Let me make it clear though. You are not a prisoner here. You're free to come and go as you please. I just recommend staying around for a little while, or taking someone with you when you go outside."


Limping away from him, she looked back over her shoulder, "You should probably get rid of that water though. Just concentrate on it flowing away from you. That should do the trick."


Getting him to follow her, she took him through the boring door that Malcolm had disappeared through, and into a house that looked like just a house. But it was obvious, despite the furniture and the pictures on the walls, that nobody lived there. There were no knickknacks, none of the small signs of life that made a house a home. Maggie felt her leg leaking blood again, and she grimaced, holding onto the wall, waving him off.


"I'll be fine."


She straightened, and took him down a hallway to what looked like a bedroom. There was a mirrored sliding door in front of a closet, and she stepped in front of it, a light scanning her eyes. The closet door then slid open, and revealed a metal elevator instead of a closet. Maggie limped inside and drew him in as well, and she put her hand against a flat black panel that scanned not just one fingerprint, but all five. The door closed, and it slowly began to descend, heading down into the bunker itself. Despite the mid-sized ranch style house above, the bunker was huge, several layers underground, and they were on the 15th subbasement before the elevator came to a stop.


Maggie limped out and waved for him to follow her, and she headed into a room with double swinging doors and an antiseptic smell. There were bright lights and people in scrubs, and a woman with graying dark hair and a kind expression on her face came walking over to them, instantly offering Maggie an arm, frowning as she saw her leg.


"Malcolm told us you were hurt. You should have come down here immediately."


"It's not going to fall off or anything," Maggie replied, lifting an eyebrow.


"You hope," the woman scolded.


She glanced over at the man with Maggie and smiled a bit, "I'm Dr. Kilburn. Why don't you have a seat while we get Maggie patched up?"


"It's okay," Maggie said with a smile. "I'll be right over here."


The doctor helped her over to a triage area, and Maggie tossed the curtain aside Dr. Kilburn tried to draw around her. With very little concern for her personal modesty, she let Dr. Kilburn untie the gauze around her leg, and just sloughed off her pants, dropping them to the side of the triage bed. Sitting in panties that were decorated with happy butterflies, she sighed when she was told she had to lie down, and smiled and waved at the young man. She did not want him to get weirded out. Eventually, Kilburn left a blanket over her hips and an IV dripping into a needle in her hand, and she urged him forward.


"So, the plan from here is to get you some clothes, a good meal, maybe some sleep if you want it. Then I'll turn you loose on the identification team. They'll take your fingerprints and a dental scan, and try to find some record of your existence before all this so you can find out who you are. Sound good?"

 

[One of a Kind]

The man began to wace his arm frantically, but the water refused to unlatch from him. Maggie, who was watching, chuckled before giving him a quick suggestion. He straightened his arm before concentrating on the water, willing it to unbind his arm. Immediately, the rope of water duspersed before splashing obto the ground. He couldn't hide his amazement, "This is unreal."


The awestruck man lifted himself up before turning off the faucet. To tell you the truth, he would have loved to stay here and mess with these power a tad bit longer. However, it seemed that his guide had her own agenda to follow. Once they entered the small house, he finally realized just how injured Maggie was. He was too occupied with all that's been happening to notice. "Here, let me help," he offered, presenting his shoulder. Despite this, she waved him off. This didn't stop him from worrying as she limped to the elevator.


After they got out of the elevator, the two entered some sort of clinic. At the doctor's request, the man took a seat. As the doctor stripped Maggie, the young man blushed, "Should I step out?"


Dr. Kilburn waved away his concerns, not looking away from her patient. The young man sat uncomfortably, facing the ceiling. Apparently they were on the fifteenth subfloor of some sort of bunker. Just how big was this place? No,scratch that. How big was the organization that built it? Maggie had called it the Superhumanitarian Freedom Coalition. The young man couldn't help but smile, it was a big name for a terrorist organization. He wondered what the public thought of these people. What was their opinion of superhumans?


His musing was interupted when Maggie motioned for him to join her. He was relieved to see that she now had a blanket to cover her lower body. Shen talked about their current agenda. His stomach immediately growled at the mention of food. It'd been, what, three days since his last meal? He didn't even know due to that windowless cell. Although he was itching to go to this place's cafeteria, the young man gave a concerned glance at Maggie's leg, "Food sounds great, but are you going to be okay?"

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie had seen him blush, and it was refreshing to be around a man who had some modesty. She made certain her legs were completely covered when he came over to the bed, and she was quietly touched that he cared about her leg. Something cold and steely clamped down on that feeling, and she managed to smile, even if it did not quite reach her eyes.


"Yeah, I'm going to be fine. When Dr. Kilburn gets back, she's going to patch me up, and in a half hour when the saline's in me, I can get up and go. I'm sorry you have to wait another half hour. But I kind of like to take the people I rescue around myself. It can be kind of scary the first time."


Dr. Kilburn came back, wearing sterile gloves and a mask, glancing up at the man, "I need you to take a step back, okay? We don't want anything to get infected."


Tossing aside the blanket to reveal her leg, cleaned and now a nasty, gaping wound, Maggie took a deep breath and then grabbed the metal sides of the triage bed, her head falling back on the pillow. Dr. Kilburn moved over to her leg, and her gloved hands actually began to look as if they were fading, becoming ghostly. She then pinched the sides of Maggie's wound together, the other woman hissing in pain, but not doing anything more. The doctor drew one ghostly finger up the cut, and impossibly, slowly, the skin began to knit back together. It was obviously painful, but Maggie did nothing to stop it, asked for nothing for the pain.


When Dr. Kilburn was done, the wound was closed, and Maggie was pale and breathing hard, sweat beading on her forehead. But she lifted her head slightly, "Thanks, Doc."


"I tell you every time that it's going to hurt."


"And I tell you that it's fine."


Rolling her eyes, the doctor's hands returned to normal, and she glanced at the man, "Matter weaving at the sub-molecular level."


"You should see her wrap a Christmas gift. Not a seam to be seen."


Dr. Kilburn rolled her eyes, "Half hour. Not a minute earlier."


Maggie nodded, leaning her head back, her eyes closed for the time being while the doctor stripped off the gloves, tossing them in a biohazard can and then draping the blanket over Maggie and her fresh scar, barely visible, before leaving the two of them alone. Reaching over, Maggie fumbled for a glass of ice water and took a long, slow drink before handing him the glass.


"Don't worry. Yeah, it hurt, like a thousand glass fish hooks pulling my skin in odd directions. But it's already fading. Hate drugs."


She opened her eyes as her head turned toward him, "There's a little water left in that glass, play with it."

 

[One of a Kind]

"Thanks," he said as he eagerly accepted the glass. "To tell you the truth, I've been dying to mess around with these powers."


The infant superhuman couldn't help but grin, feeling like some child who had just gotten a new toy. All his previous thoughts of hunger and rest were replaced with wonder and curiosity. He was anxious to see just what he was capable of. If he had the ability to control water, he would become capable of so much. Dozens of possible uses and advantages flooded the giddy man's head. But the question was, were there any limits on these powers? And also, could he control water in all three of its states or could he only control it as a liquid?


"Well, there's only one way to find out."


He decided to start out by creating a thin cord of water like he had earlier. The only problem was, he wasn't sure how he had done it. At the time, he had done it entirely on accident. The young man focused his gaze on the water in the cup, wondering how to tap into his powers. He started off by trying to command the liquid, willing it to mold itself into a thin snake-like shape.


To the young man's disappointment, nothing happened. Refusing to give up, he spent the next couple of minutes concentrating on getting the water to obey his instructions.


However, he was so focused on the inside of the cup that he didn't realize what was happening on the outside of the cup. Under the influence of his powers, all the scattered droplets of condensation had started merging with one another, until a thin layer of water in between had been formed in between man's hand and the cup.


He cursed as the cup slipped from his hand, "Crap!"


Fortunately for him, his other hand was free and was able to intercept it before it could smash into the floor. Sadly for him, all of the cup's contents had spilled onto him in the process.

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie watched him play with his fledgling powers with amusement and bittersweet nostalgia. Had she ever been so excited and naïve? Had she been allowed to play? No, even those first, hazy memories were violent glass littering her mind.


When he spilled the water all over himself, she could not keep a little chuckle inside. But it was neither cruel nor malicious. Instead, it was just a soft, amused laugh, as if he were a basset hound puppy who had not quite gotten the hang of his ears yet.


A nurse came over with a towel, and Maggie waved her off for the time being.


"Here's a real test. Pull that water out of your clothing and put it back into the glass."


She sat up a little straighter, "Close your eyes."


Her voice got softer, but did not lose the confidence it seemed to have in him, "Take a deep breath and focus. Feel that water, connect to it. Don't think about it as a bunch of water all over you, but in droplets that you can pull out of the clothing, the air, off your skin and hair, and put back into the glass. One droplet at a time if you have to."


While she had never trained another superhuman before, she remembered her own teachers, how they got her to control her powers. Maggie had no desire to be someone's lackluster Yoda, but she was familiar with powers that flowed. Her plasma was a fluid like his water.


"Make it part of you," was her last bit of advice before she scooped up her torn pants, ready to struggle into them.


Half hour or not, she wanted a meal and a shower. There was undoubtedly blood in her hair and on her clothing, not to mention the assorted dirt and debris. Maggie tossed the blanket aside and struggled into the yoga pants, a nurse coming over to remove her IV line, lest she just pull it out on her own.

 

[One of a Kind]

"You want me to try draw the water from my cloths?"


The young man was unsure whether or now he was even capable of such a feat. After briefly doubting himself, he shrugged; there was no harm in trying.


After setting the cup on a table, the young man stood up, "Alright, let's try this again."


Taking Maggie's advice, he closed his eye, concentrating on channeling his power. But what exactly did she mean when she told him to make it a part oh him? He unconsciously bit his lip, focusing on the task in front of him. He inhaled deeply before trying something different. This time, when he envisioned the water moving, he perceived the water as an extension of his body rather than a separate entity.


Slowly, the water which had been stretched out across his gown began to gather at the center until a small, concentrated circle of water had formed. Feeling the change on his clothing, the young man willed the water to form a stream which split away from his apparel.


Out of excitement, the young man cracked open an eye as he felt all of the water depart from his gown. Due to this, as if the water had been monitoring his concentration, he lost control of it. The strand of water instantly evaporated, raising the room's humidity.


The superhuman blinked, confused by what just happened. After taking a moment to register the past turn of events, he gave a sheepish grin, "Well, I managed to complete half of your test. That's gotta count for something."

 

[InnocentThorns]

That he had gotten part of it to work was a good sign. It meant he was teachable. Maggie had gotten up off the triage bed and flexed her leg a bit, smiling at him, though it was restrained. Then again, her smiles were always restrained, rarely ever moving into something that reached her eyes.


"Not a test. Just something for you to try. Testing implies I'm a teacher, and I'm not. I'm a soldier and I'm fine with that."


She waved him to the door, "Let's go."


Taking him away from the medical wing, she took him to an even lower floor, where there were doors with guards outside them in military-style uniforms, but they were solid gray. Maggie took him down to a pair of double doors and knocked, slipping inside, encouraging him to come with her. There was a male assistant sitting at the desk just inside, another set of double doors behind him. He smiled at Maggie, flashing perfect teeth in a handsome face.


"Maggie, it's lovely to see you back."


"Can MacInerny see us now?" she asked.


He nodded, "Of course. He always has time for you."


A quick call, and the assistant nodded to the door, "Go on in."


There was a smile for the man as well, "Welcome."


Maggie walked to the double doors and headed inside, waving her companion with her. There were maps and screens on the walls of the office, a massive desk, and behind it, a man in a uniform, his salt and pepper hair cut military short, his face clean shaven. He had to be in his fifties, maybe his sixties, and his blue eyes were the color of a winter sky. Wrinkles were imbedded around his eyes and the corners of his mouth, as well as his forehead, but not so deeply that it was impossible to see that he had been an attractive man in his youth and still was. He smiled, and got up, coming around the desk.


"Magnolia, I'm so very glad to see you've returned," he said, his voice deep, rich, and his tone touched with that genteel southern accent.


"Thank you sir," she replied quietly. "This is the young man I found there."


MacInerny turned his attention to the other man, holding a hand out to him, "Welcome, son. I am General Paxton MacInerny, leader of the SFC. I make a point of meeting every citizen we liberate. I just like to welcome them in person to use our facilities, and if you want to leave when you've recovered, you're free to go. But we can always use more help here."


He looked back to Maggie, taking her hand in both of his, "You look tired, honey. I want you to get some rest after you get him settled. Debriefing can wait."


She nodded, "Yes sir."


"You don't need to call me sir, we've been over this."


Maggie just nodded a bit, and MacInerny smiled at them, "You both must be tired. Go ahead and get some rest. I'll see you both tomorrow."


He put a gentle hand on Maggie's shoulder, and she did not shy away from it as she might have with other people. But then she nodded to the other young man so they could leave, closing the doors behind them, the assistant waving to them as they left and went through the second set of double doors.


"Ready for something to eat?" she asked him.

 

[One of a Kind]

"A soldier, huh?"


With those powers, could you even call her that? She could kill a man with almost zero effort. Her terrorist label seemed much more accurate. The young man frowned, remembering how this person had callously taken lives with no signs of regret or sorrow.


In an attempt to expel his bitterness, the man inhaled deeply. His feelings were mixed. She killed people.That fact was undeniable. But then she had treated the young man, a stranger who she had never met, with kindness and understanding.


Maggie wasn't necessarily a bad person, she was only doing what she believed to be right. Not to mention, she saved him, didn't she? If it weren't for her, he'd still be in that god forsaken cell, wasting away and losing his mind.


A single thought popped into the man's head, causing his spirit to plummet. If he was never rescued, then maybe nobody would have had to die. Although that would mean he would still be imprisoned, at least then, those soldiers would all still be alive. They'd be able to go home and see their families and continue on with their lives.


He knew his reasoning was flawed and unrealistic. Still, he couldn't control these feelings of guilt.


The young man was so absorbed in thought that, before he had even realized it, he found himself standing in some grand office. After Maggie gave a brief report to a sharp man dressed in a uniform, this man introduced himself before reaching for a handshake.


The young man took his hand before giving a quick, "Nice to meet you."


He then took a step back, watching as Maggie and MacInerny had a short chat. The two seemed close; the young man couldn't help but wonder what the story was between the two. After they'd finished talking, the man waved at the general on the way out, "Thanks for everything."


Once the two had left, Maggie had asked him the single, most important, question that the young man would ever hear. The famished man nodded uncontrollably, "I thought you'd never ask."

 

[InnocentThorns]

Smiling his way, Maggie nodded and took him back to the elevator. They went up to another floor, and she nodded at the number, "This is the floor that is for your basic domestic needs. This one, and the one above it, have sleeping quarters, and this level has the commissary and the recreation areas. We'll get you clothes on this floor too."


She took him down to a set of double doors and they swung open for them as they set off a motion detector. Inside, a few people were sitting at tables, eating, and glanced up at the doors that opened. But none of them looked shocked to see Maggie, clothing torn and bloody, or the stranger with her in the hospital clothing. Instead, they just went back to their food and she took him over to the line, picking up a tray, utensils, and an empty cup.


"Take whatever you'd like, as much as you like," she told him. "Nobody here is going to judge you. They know what you've come from. Chances are, they came from that themselves."


Going through the line, there was all kinds of food to be had. Grilled options, fried options, fresh fruits and vegetables, meat, vegetarian items, all marked clearly. There were also people in chef's checks standing behind the counters, ready to dish out food. Maggie took mashed potatoes and gravy, turkey breast, and raw sugar snap peas, before moving to the part of the counters with all kinds of pastries and other desserts. Of those, she took ice cream, a brownie, a cherry dumpling, and a slice of caramel apple pie with whipped cream, not ice cream. She made it clear to the chef that there was to only be whipped cream on that pie.


Then she went to a drink dispenser and got herself juice, waiting for him before they went to a table in the corner. Sitting down, she put her napkin in her lap, and started in on the ice cream first, then moved to the hot food. She took genteel, ladylike bites, as if she were having tea with a queen, belying the way she was dressed or the way she spoke. For a while, she just ate, and she glanced up at him, a soft smile on her lips.


"I don't want you to worry, okay? Our identification people are great at what they do. What they'll do is they'll take fingerprints, and painless dental scans, and look for a match in their files. They share files with the FBI database, the DMV, and dental records. And the government doesn't erase people like us."


Maggie frowned into her meal, "They just tell the people who loved us that we're dead."


She looked back at him, "You'll come up as a dead person. But if you want to leave, we'll help you with a new identity. So you can go live a normal life. A social security number, a birth certificate, a passport. You can get a job, you can have a life."


Nibbling on the snow peas, she pushed some hair away from her face, "I didn't get that chance. You should think it over before you decide to stay here. It's not that I'm against staying here. But you have this look in your eyes. Like you're upset. And rightly so. But if violence disturbs you, you're better off leaving."

 

[One of a Kind]

Immediately, the starved man began to shovel food onto his plate. Ignoring the salad bar, he started off by gathering the only thing which mattered to him at the moment: meat. Without a care in the world, the ravenous man began to whimsically grab all sorts of meat based foods. He looked down to find a country fried steak, one greasy burger, some ribs, and two fried drumsticks. Suffice to say, the man could care less about his health.


Dying to lay waste to his meal, he quickly grabbed a cookie and got some Coke from the dispenser before sitting down by Maggie.


Waiting not a second longer, he sunk his knife into his country fried steak before eagerly biting into. He recoiled instantly. The flavor proved to be overwhelming after eating nothing but that bland gruel for the last two months. After the next couple of bites, his taste buds had adapted to the presence of taste. After eating half of the steak, he took a grabbed a rib and began to gnaw into it. Without even finishing the rib, he reached for a drumstick with his other hand. Although the two didn't exactly have the best synergy when it came to taste, the man only cared about getting the food into his mouth at that point. Next was what he had been looking forward to most. Not caring about how he looked, the young man fervently chomped into his burger. This had to be heaven.


Noticing that he had finished most of his meal, Maggie decided to fill him in on what was going to happen.


After hearing the part about being officially dead, the young man dropped his fork, "Wait, does that mean I can't go back to my old life? I can't go back and see my friends or family?"


This information disturbed him greatly. He didn't want to start over and ditch his old life. There had to be people who cared about him out there.


As for joining the SFC... it was true that the prospect of violence didn't really appeal to him. Even so, a part of him refused to rule out the thought. If there were more people like him out there, he wanted to help. And who knows? Maybe he might be able to get the SFC to change its policies.

 

[InnocentThorns]

"That would be the first place they would look for you," she said quietly. "The government would go to your friends, your family, and just watch and wait for you to show up so they can pack you up and put you back in a cell until they decide they have some use for you."


Maggie frowned, "I'm sorry. I know, it's hard to hear. Hard to cope with. If you had friends and family, they've been told that you died. Funerals with closed caskets have been held. You have a memorial somewhere. They've mourned you. Depending on how long it's been...some of them might have even moved on."


She knew that far too well. But this was not about her. So Maggie did not mention her sources of information. It was probably kinder to admit it all now though, so he would know what he could expect. What would be facing him once he found out who he was again. She would let him figure out for himself how it would feel to look at someone you were supposed to love and feel nothing, though. There were no words for that.


"This is why we exist," she said softly. "If the government hadn't interfered, if they hadn't forced you to access your abilities? None of this would happen. But they don't care about us. They don't care about anything but having an army of weapons at their disposal. I can guarantee that they did not ask your permission before they drained away all your memories so they could see what kinds of abilities you would manifest. We're not people to them."


The pain was acute and sharp for a moment, deep inside her heart. Maggie took a breath and picked at her food, calming herself down and she gave him another gentle smile, "It'll be okay though. I promise. Whether you want to start a new life somewhere or not. Everyone here is here because they want to be. They're volunteers and recruits, they're real people who know what the government is doing is wrong. This isn't about protecting the interests of the country. It's about who has the biggest army so nobody fucks with them. It's sick and wrong, and we're being used like things. Objects."


Reaching out, she gently touched the hand that dropped his fork, "But you're not a thing. You're a person. You always were, always will be."


That moment of contact over, she withdrew her hand, putting it back in her lap and looked back to her food, "I'm not telling you all this to try and convince you to join us. I value free will as much as anyone. Maybe more. I just think you should know what you're up against."

 

[One of a Kind]

The young man couldn't hide his troubled expression. He felt cheated. Even after being abducted and having his memories stolen, he remained hopeful, believing that when it was all over, he would be able to return to his home. But now, he was being told that that was no longer an option? The young man balled his fists in frustration, "You've got to be kidding me. They take away my memories, turn me into some freak, and now I can't even go back to my old life? This has to be some fucked up joke."


It just wasn't fair. Resentment began to build up in the young man after he had finally realized that he had lost everything. He was outraged. A part of him wanted someone to pay.


Is this what Maggie feels?


That's right. She must have been in this exact same situation as him. Confused and betrayed, knowing nobody.


He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell some of these feelings. He felt so confused. Many would say that his world turned upside down, but after losing his memories, he never had a world to begin with.


Maggie placed a compassionate hand on his own, reassuring him that he was still human. This small act was surprisingly enough to call him down.


Now that his appetite had been ruined, the young man stood up, "I want to see the identification team."

 

[InnocentThorns]

Nodding, she showed him where to get rid of his tray, and took him out of the commissary and to the elevators. They got off on another floor, and she took him to another set of doors that required her thumb print before they would open up to them. There were guards inside, but they nodded to Maggie and did not say a word to keep him from following her. They then headed into a single door after Maggie had knocked.


Inside the room were several banks of computers, a medical bed and equipment over it, and some people who were busily working. They were approached by a boisterous redhead with half of her head shaved, the other half hanging over her face. She was maybe twenty, and she was wearing a gray t-shirt with "SARF: Stuffed Animal Rescue Foundation" on the front of it in big black letters. She looked pleased to see them both, purple-painted lips curled into a smile, making the silver ring in her nose curl upward a bit with the motion.


"Maggie!"


"Hello Livia," Maggie replied with a slight smile. "I've got someone for the team to take care of."


Livia nodded, looking him over, "Hey cakes. C'mon this way. We'll get you fixed up in a jiff."


Taking his hand, she pulled him into the identification lab proper, and Maggie went to get a chair, sitting down. For a moment, the exhaustion that was tugging at her limbs, making her feel like she was made of lead was apparent on her face. There was years of tired in her expression as she finally sat down, and let herself just feel it for a moment. But a lot of her time was spent not letting herself feel anything at all.


She sympathized with him, she truly did. Maggie knew how he felt. How he felt like something priceless had been stolen from him and there would be no justice for it. Reaching up with her right hand, she worried the ring finger on her left hand while she thought about how broken and betrayed he must have felt. How the world must have seemed so empty and pointless. But until he knew who he was, what he had lost, the anger would be manageable. It would not be until he knew about himself that the rage would burn.


Then it would be a question as to how hot it would burn. Her own was a sun-destroying supernova, and always had been. Some superhumans were able to release that rage, able to move on with their lives. But Maggie knew she was not that good. There was nothing left of the woman she had once been, so she no longer held herself to the standards she must have previously. If she could admit it, it was why she fought so hard, took those lives. In the end, she cared nothing for what happened to herself.


Leaning on her hand, she let the tired feeling overwhelm her for a moment, and she closed her eyes. Hopefully they would find out who he was sooner rather than later. She desperately wanted a shower and a bed.

 

[One of a Kind]

The young man followed the bubbly girl. To be honest, he had butterflies in his stomach. He was nervous. He was finally going to learn just who he really was.


Not to mention, he was also anxious to learn about his family. This feeling was comparable to what you would feel before a blind date. Except instead of meeting some chick, he was meeting the people who had raised him up. He was unsure of what to expect.


Noticing how on edge he was, the girl squeezed his hand, "Don't you worry. We'll find your family and identity, chop-chop."


The young man gave a nervous chuckle, "Sorry, I'm sorta nervous. I've gone so long without knowing my own name. I don't know how to feel right now."


He felt both eager and scared. He was eager because he would finally get some answers, after not knowing a damn thing about himself for the last two months. But he was also scared of what he had lost, and would never be able to get back.


Livia sat him down in a chair before giving him a warm smile, "That's fine, it's only natural to feel that way. Now open wide for me, sweetie."


The young man opened his mouth as Livia slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. After retrieving what appeared to be a thick rod, she stuck into his mouth sideways. She then placed a lead vest over his chest before pulling out a device designed for taking x-rays. She stuck it on the right side of the rod for a couple seconds before doing the same with the left side.


Livia pulled out the rod from his mouth and removed the lead vest from his chest, "Feels more like a check up at a dentist, huh? Now that we've got your x-rays, we just need to get some pictures and your fingerprints, kay?"

 

[One of a Kind]

After Livia had finished taking his fingerprints, she pulled out a camera, "Say cheese."


She took two quick pictures of the front of his face and the side of it. She took a moment to check the photos before giving him a thumbs up, "Alrighty, we're good to go. Now it's going to take a couple hours or so before our expert can identify you. So feel free to leave and get some rest, we'll have your identity when you get back."


The young man got up from his seat before giving Livia a quick thanks to which she winked at him. He walked over to where Maggie was situated, "Looks like we have some time to kill while they start their search. Is there any business you beed to take care of in the mean time?"

 

[InnocentThorns]

Maggie glanced up at him, and smiled a bit, "I have some deeply important business with my bed."


She got up, stretching a bit, "Come on. I'll show you where you can settle in for a while."


Waving a goodbye to Livia and the other identification team members, Maggie took him from the ID wing back down to the domestic wing. She walked him to a door and tapped a couple of things into the almost futuristic looking data pad embedded right into the wall. A pleasant computer voice asked her for identification, and she eyed him for a moment before she spoke.


"Don't laugh. Our tech people are nerds."


Sighing, she glanced back at the data pad, pressing the lock button, "Locking transfer protocol."


There was a soft beep and the voice again, "Authentication required."


"Authentication code Lady of the Stars," she replied, rolling her eyes.


"Authentication code accepted."


"Change authentication code to thumbprint."


The pad went black, and she took his hand, pressing his thumb against the pad. A pale blue scanning bar slipped past his thumb, and there was another soft beep, and she released his hand so that she could explain the door pad.


"This will be your temporary room while you're here. You'll get something a bit more permanent if you decide to stay. But it's right next to mine, so you can come get me if you need to. Touch the screen to turn it on. If you want into your room, touch the pulsing green mark here. If you're ringing the door chime on my door, touch the blue one. Simple enough, right?"


Walking over to the door to the right, she really just wanted to grab a shower and collapse into bed. But she felt like she should at least try to be welcoming.


"Want to come in for a minute? Just take a breath before you're really alone again? I'm going to grab a shower, and you can just have a minute."


Going into her room, she waited for him to join her if he wanted. This set of living quarters would be larger than his, and not so spartanly decorated. Her walls were a soft green, with lighting on the walls instead of overhead. There was a living room area, a small table, and then a bed and a couple of doors. One door was a walk-in closet, and the other went to a bathroom. Her bed was swathed in sea foam blue and ivory, with lush pillows and lace trim. There were soft rugs on the floor, and a shelf full of books, paperback and hard bound intermingling without rhyme or reason, though much of it was about mythology.


Most importantly, sitting alone and really the most personal thing in the room, was a picture in a frame. It was crumpled and worn, carefully flattened again, one side of it bent back completely. In the picture, there was a handsome young man with dark hair, wearing a firefighter's uniform, holding a baby. It seemed like a bright, sunny day, and the balloons around them on the fence around the yard made it seem like it was a birthday party. But it was impossible to see what was behind the fold without taking the picture out of the frame.


Maggie went into her closet and grabbed some clothing, walking to the bathroom and locking herself inside. Taking a quick shower, she washed off the blood and dust, shampooing the broken glass out of her hair and cleaning the few small wounds she had. When she got out, she dried her hair, braiding it and wrapping it around her head, before dressing herself into the comfortable pajamas she had brought into the bathroom. They were gray, and emblazoned with tasty doughnuts.


Emerging, she tossed her dirty clothing in her clothes hamper, and sat down on one of her comfortable living room chairs. It was so nice to be back where she belonged. The only place she belonged aside from the battles she partook in willingly.

 

[One of a Kind]

Honestly, the thought of sleeping didn't really appeal all that much to the young man. In fact, sleep was probably at the bottom of his list of things to do. He would much rather go outside, mess with his new ability, or explore the bunker. After all, there wasn't much to do in that cursed cell, but sleep and gradually feel your mind go blank. However, Maggie looked as if she could use the rest.


Not allowing his reluctance to show, he smiled at her, "Sounds good to me."


The young man's eyes widened as he watched Maggie's short exchange with what seemed like an AI of sorts. The whole thing made him feel like he was in some sort of sci-fi.


He raised an eye at Maggie's passcode. It was such an odd passcode. Perhaps it was an old nickname or had some other meaning to it.


He nodded as she gave him a brief tutorial on how to work the


door system. He was about to enter his own room before Maggie invited him into her own.


"Sure, if that's alright with you. You look tired, so I won't stay and bother you for too long."


He followed Maggie into her quarters, taking a seat by a small table as she entered her bathroom.


He sat, awkwardly, as he waited for Maggie to finish her shower. Truth be told, he could go for a shower too. God knows how long it's been since he last bathed. Having nothing else to do, his gaze wandered around Maggie's room. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting with her being a trained killer and all. The room was rather normal, nothing odd standing out to him. She didn't have too many possessions, so naturally, the small picture was the first to catch his eye.


He couldn't help but wonder who the people in the picture. Maybe that was her father and that baby was Maggie. Or perhaps this was her lover and that baby was their kid.


The young man's thoughts froze once he realized that this had to be taken before she had been abducted by the government. Meaning, this was the life that was stolen from her. Was this why she had such a fiery vendetta?


The young man shivered, unsure about how he would react once he found out what he had lost. He didn't want to become like Maggie, someone who could kill so easily.


His chain of thought was cut short when Maggie popped out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. She plopped herself down on the chair across from him. He waited for her to get comfortable before saying anything.


"I never really got to thank you properly. Thank you for rescuing me." He broke eye contact, looking down at his feet, "I'm sorry for yelling at you and demanding answers from you after you had saved me."


The young man was genuinely thankful towards her. However, although he was sorry for being so rude, he wasn't sorry for how he reacted or what he had said.