It wasn't quite morning as I opened my eyes. In the distance, I could see a pink tint lighting up the skyline as the stars began to fade. With the sun gracing the horizon, I nuzzled underneath the blankets, only to push myself upwards when I realized that I was in a more comfortable position than I'd been the night before.

There was a chill to the air as my eyes scanned the area where Beckett and I had fallen asleep. The remnants of the fire that had burned between us lay extinguished on the ground beside me, and even though it couldn't have been later than six in the morning, the spot where I expected to find Beckett was empty. It was only when I let my gaze drop to my own lap that I realized the blankets he'd used were now lumped on top of mine.

My eyebrows drew together, knowing that at some point during the night he must've gotten up to quell the fire, and wondering why, at presumably the same time, he'd give up the little comfort he'd had for me – the same person who'd gotten him stuck with this punishment in the first place.

It was times like this that I noticed that there were two sides to his personality. Most of the time, it appeared as though he didn't care about much other than himself and doing his job, but in rare moments, his walls disappeared to reveal someone who was thoughtful, caring, and easy to talk to.

However, I knew there was no use trying to figure out how his mind worked first thing in the morning, so I let it go, making a mental note to thank him the next time I saw him.

As I stood up, piling the blankets into my arms, my eyes caught onto a folded piece of paper wedged underneath the blanket that I'd been using as a make-shift pillow. Crouching down, I placed the blankets down to the side and picked up the note. Unfolding it, a small smile twitched at my lips as I read what was written.

I'll be in the training barn late tonight if you still want to learn how to protect yourself.

Relief coursed through me, hoping that this short message meant that yesterday was behind us. The physical aspect of my training needed work, and if, after everything that had transpired yesterday, he was still willing to help me, I wasn't going to turn it down.

Tucking the note into my back pocket, I resumed cleaning up. Once the charred fire logs were disposed of and the dirty blankets were tossed down the communal laundry chute, I nipped into the Grand Hall. Those who were up this early eyed me cautiously, probably waiting for a repeat of the previous morning to occur, but I paid them little attention. Grabbing a coffee and a breakfast burrito, I didn't linger, instead making my way up to my room.

The concept of weekends didn't exist at Division 27. It didn't matter if it was Tuesday afternoon, Friday night or Sunday morning – training still went on and assignments were still given out. However, with no arrangements to train with Joe today, I used the time go over what I'd learned over the past couple of weeks. It was necessary, I felt like, as my mind had been all over the place as of late, but as the hours wore on, I found my concentration slipping bit by bit.

Instead, I thought of Kira and the current predicament the two of us were in. Unless she was incredibly skilled at masking her true emotions – which was entirely possible, she had seemed genuinely apologetic both the day she'd left me sitting with Catherine and Joe and when she'd cornered me in the Grand Hall the previous morning. Before yesterday, I hadn't wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Beckett's advice now had me thinking differently.

Was I angry with her because of what she'd done?

Yes.

Was I angry that I hadn't really had a choice in confronting my mom?

Yes.

But, after the fact, I knew both her and Joe were trying to help me, and I couldn't be angry at them for that. They were only looking out for me.

When it became evidently clear that my productivity was shot – my focus continuously straying to the small amount of guilt in the pit of my stomach, I sighed. Pushing my things to the side, I stood up from my spot at the top of my bed and headed for the door.

It was closing in on five as I stood in front of the lab. Typing in the five-digit code for the door, I pulled it open once the light shone green. Both the sound of the door opening and my footsteps caused Kira's gaze to lift from what she was focused on. Offering her a hesitant smile as I hovered just inside the doorway, I cringed internally as she showed no response to my presence, simply turning her focus back to what she'd been working on.

This was going to be slightly harder than I'd expected.

"Hey," I spoke up, clearing my throat. "Can we talk?"

"I'm kind of busy," she replied.

Ouch. "It'll only take a minute." She leant back from the computer she was using and looked my way, and though she said nothing, a simple nod of the head gave me the go-ahead. "I guess I just wanted to say that I was sorry... for not letting you explain your side of things. I was upset about the situation, and because you were a part of it, my anger shifted to you."

"Aspen," she started, "maybe you didn't see how bad the situation between you and Catherine was, but I could. You couldn't so much as talk about her without some sort of animosity in your voice, and it was like every time something involved her, you acted out of instinct instead of thinking things through. Letting your emotions rule your decisions can be dangerous. Trust me."

There was an underlying tone to her words that I could remember hearing on a few occasions since I'd met her – always when we were talking about her position in the Division, her past, or ways for me to stay safe. If I could guess, I'd bet that whatever was being left unsaid had to do with the real reason she'd made the switch from fieldwork to the lab. It could've be one decision or one mistake that'd ended with major consequences, and though the curiosity was there, I didn't push for answers.

"And I'm sorry that I agreed to Joe's idea before talking with you," she continued. "I wanted to help, but I know that it wasn't exactly the best way to do so."

"You think?" I quirked an eyebrow, watching as a sheepish look crossed her face before I sighed. "But you were both right – I did need to talk with Catherine. I might not have been ready, but I think I needed that push. I was being stubborn and was fixated on the fact that, in my mind, she was the reason I was stuck in the middle of everything."

Kira was quiet for a moment, regarding me with a questioning gaze. "And now? Is that still what you think?"

"It's complicated." I didn't want to have to go into the complications of it all – Damon, his plan, the weapons. "But I know that it's not her I have to worry about going forward."

"Then that's a good thing, right?"

"In some ways," I replied vaguely, nodding my head. Letting my gaze wander, it settled on the set-up she'd been working with when I'd walked in. It was more than just a computer like I'd first thought. There was a file stocked full of papers lying on the work surface, as well as a device that was hooked up to the computer that enclosed a small volume of chemicals. My eyebrows furrowed in interest. "What are you working on?"

Her lips pressed together as apprehensiveness flitted across her features. A sign of confliction as she debated whether to tell me the truth.

"A few years ago, S.I.C.O was funding a project that Division 27 was highly invested in," she started, her words slow. "We were the main contributors and the research that was being done had been extensive, but the project was abruptly cut just over two years ago. According to what I've been told, the data and equipment hasn't been touched since then." Kira reached across the work table to grab the file. "That is, until Catherine spoke to me and a few of the other lab technicians after the alarm, wanting us to open the project back up."

She didn't object as I grabbed the file from her and flipped it open. Most of the document were filled with meaningless scrawls and data, the level of complexity more than I could understand. "What is all of this?" I asked as I lifted my gaze back up to meet hers.

"The project is called invisibilis." My eyes widened marginally with surprise. "Previously, the Division was testing out material modifications that could alter the way visible wavelengths are seen."

"So they were..."

"In the beginning stages of creating a functioning invisibility cloak," she finished for me. Her lips twitched up at the sides as my mouth opened to form words that couldn't find their way out. "That's pretty much what my reaction was too." She took the file back from me as she nodded to the device hooked up to the computer. "The research was just beginning to show conclusive results when it was shut down years ago, but now, with the advances in technology growing day by day, we're being careful with how we move forward with this."

My mind immediately jumped to the consequences of what could happen if this information ended up in the wrong hands. An unsettling feeling crept up my spine. "Do you know why Catherine chose now to open this project back up?"

My voice was an octave lower than usual and shaking slightly with worry. My apprehension wasn't lost on Kira, frowning as she replied, "I think you already know the answer to that."

I gulped, realizing that I did.

It was because there was a fight coming, whether we chose to admit it or not, and she wanted to have every option at her disposal to make sure the Division didn't take a hit.

----------

Later that night, I stood in the middle of the training barn with Beckett's arm wrapped my neck, though not tight enough to hurt me. His position behind me kept me faced away from him as he coached me on how to escape it.

"When you're in this position, the best strategy is to protect your airway by gripping the attacker's arm, tuck your chin into the crook of their elbow, and to utilize your feet to try and knock them off balance," he said.

I brought my hands up and positioned myself as he said. With my back pressing tightly against his chest, I maneuvered my right foot behind his, locking his leg between mine before turning around and trying my best to push him to the ground. Even with my momentum, he didn't budge much, but he did seem partially impressed that I had executed the move properly.

"That was good," he nodded, slipping his arm from my grip as he took a step back. "Your technique is improving, but since your opponents will likely be my size or larger in the field, the important thing to work on is your strength. You'll need to be able to throw them off slightly so that you can take the opportunity to escape."

Letting out a deep breath, I nodded. "So are we working on my strength next, then?" I asked, my breathing a little heavier than normal.

"I actually think it's about time to pack it in for the night," he said, lifting his eyebrow as if to challenge me.

In all honesty, tonight's training session had been highly productive. Beckett had known that I wanted to work on both protecting myself and being able to protect others; the former of which he'd decided to focus on for the past hour. We'd gone through high intensity drills that were meant to sharpen my senses and keep me quick on my feet. An agility course, an interval training circuit, and a set of hand-eye coordination exercises – I got through them all, but not before working up a sweat as we switched over to more practical exercises.

"Tired already?" I teased.

He rolled his eyes and a small smirk appeared on his lips. "I'm sure you'd like to think that," he drawled, "but considering I'm leaving for an assignment at six, I want to grab a few hours of sleep."

I could feel my features shift marginally with surprise. It was already going on one in the morning. "We could've put off the training until tomorrow. I wouldn't have minded."

"Don't worry about it." He shook his head. "I'm used to having a scattered sleep schedule; it's kind of hard not to be."

I nodded, though I didn't have a response. Instead, the two of us made quick work of cleaning up the training barn, and within minutes were stepping out into the night air side by side. Waiting as he pulled the door to the barn shut, I let my gaze fall over the empty grounds.

I was so used to the constant state of action that Division 27 seemed to thrive on. Agents coming and going at all hours of the day, partners prepping for their upcoming assignments, a continuous desire to train and improve upon skills – it was the ongoing hustle that seemed to keep everyone going. Sometimes, however, I forgot what it felt like to be in a state of peace.

But in that moment, where everything was settled and not a person was in sight, I felt a sense of calmness wash over me.

"Are you coming?"

Turning my head, I saw Beckett standing a few feet away from me, a curious expression on his face. "You go ahead," I said, my eyes flitting back towards the trees that lined the grounds, "I'll be in soon."

He lifted a brow. "Not thinking of running away again, are you?"

Whereas a month ago I would've found his words patronizing, there was now a light undertone that told me he was only teasing. "No," I mused. "Not tonight."

For a second, it seemed as though he was going to say something more, but decided against it at the last minute. Instead, he nodded in acceptance before turning his back to me and making his way towards the nearest entrance alone.

Making my way across the grounds, the only thing that could be heard was the low whistling of the wind and the soft rustle of the leaves. The combination of the silence and the solidarity in the moment was almost intoxicating to me; the familiar atmosphere of a life I'd since left behind. In the back of my mind I knew that it was likely someone was on patrol, currently watching my every move, but I couldn't find it in me to care. It was a breath of fresh air and a break in routine I hadn't known I'd desperately needed.

I took my time – no real course to my steps as I circled the grounds. Nothing was out of place or unexpected; everything just as I'd seen it several times over the past month.

Except for when it wasn't.

It was a small flicker of light that caught my eye as I glanced to my left, just bright enough to cast its glare through a narrow opening in the trees. My brows furrowed as I squinted, attempting to make sense of what it was. It was dim, and coming from the ground, the discovery of which caused me to release a bated breath, figuring it was unlikely to be an intruder who was waiting to strike.

Was it some sort of security system I hadn't noticed before? A flashlight that someone had left abandoned earlier in the evening?

Whatever it was, it wasn't that far away. Maybe ten meters at most, and with my curiosity winning out over what should've been a sound judgement call to turn and walk away, I threw a glance over my shoulder before moving towards the light source.

My steps were slow and as I maneuvered through the trees, their tall structures acting as a shield against the cool night winds, my heart rate sped up. It was almost as if my subconscious knew that I was stumbling across something that I shouldn't be.

Something that didn't belong.

Because the light wasn't coming from something that had been dropped. No. My eyes grew in surprise and my movements halted as I realized it was coming from underground.

It was glowing in the shape of a square, strangely less prominent now that I stood above it. Intrigued, I crouched, my knees hitting the uneven forest floor as I pushed away the leaves and dirt. It was less than a minute later when my hand hit what I was looking for – cement. With more urgency than before, I uncovered the rest of the cement block before sitting back on my heels to take it all in.

The light was seeping out of the sides of the block, making it prevalent that it was being used as a cover. But for what? The only indentation on the cement was an 'X' with a few lines etched around it, which did nothing to spark a clue in my memory as to what could be hidden underneath.

As I dug my fingers into the dirt beside it and pushed, I was surprised when the cement shifted sideways by just a few inches. With new determination, I used all the strength I had to keep pushing, causing my breath to catch in the back of my throat as the light grew brighter and a large hole was unveiled.

A hole large enough for someone to drop down into.

Locating the source of the light – a torch that had been left hanging on the wall of the underground tunnel that opened at the base of the hole, I made a split-second decision. Swinging my legs out from underneath me, I braced my hands on the edge and inched my body into the hole. And then I let go, my feet hitting the ground seconds later with a low thud.

The smell of pine scented trees was immediately masked with the stale air that filled the tunnel. It was damp, and despite the glare from the torch that now hung next to me, it was pitch black. An eerie feeling crept up my spine as I looked down the long path in front of me, and even though I could've made the choice to climb back up, I wanted to investigate.

Grabbing the torch, I held it out in front of me as I wandered further into the tunnel, and the deeper I went, the more I got the sense that this place had, up until recently, been long forgotten. There was a mixture of soil and cement beneath my feet, stopping my steps from echoing down the corridor, and with cobwebs covering nearly every surface, I couldn't help but notice the way that some of the ones overhead had been torn away from the relatively low hanging ceilings.

And then, as I approached a turn in the tunnel, the sudden sound of someone else's movements hit my ears and the reality of the situation caught up to me. I was snooping in a place I didn't belong and I wasn't alone.

As I rounded the corner however, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finn?"

I expected him to be startled, considering I'd found him at the end of an underground tunnel in the middle of the night, but when he lifted his head and met my gaze, the surprise that he was no longer alone faded quickly, morphing into a smile. "Hey," he greeted. "I see you've found one of the Division's many hideaways."

The cheeriness that naturally rolled off him didn't seem appropriate in our current situation. In fact, it was the first time since I'd met him that his emotions didn't seem genuine, but a mask for something else. His eyes were vacant, his posture a little too straight, and his grin too wide.

Something was off.

"Yeah," I drawled, taking a few careful steps forward as my eyes swept over the room. "What exactly is this place?"

There were bookshelves lining the walls that looked like they hadn't been touched in years; cobwebs and dust covering them in a thick film. The same went for the old paintings and the broken clock that seemed to be stuck with both of its hands pointing towards the faded number four – all of which hung on the walls, looking like they were one touch away from falling to the ground. This was a contrast to the equipment that filled the table that separated Finn and I. The computer, while an ancient model, was booted up and currently running through some sort of program too advanced for me to understand while numerous files, seemingly new, were filled with papers stacked every which way.

"It's an underground record room that S.I.C.O used to store files back in the day," he explained, pausing to type out a command for the program. "I found it a few years ago, but lately I've been using it to try and find anything that can help us."

"Against the Gemini Clan?" He nodded in response, though as the program continued to run, the more his attention seemed to be drawn to it. I grabbed one of the files off the table, opening it and scanning through the papers. "Well, have you found anything yet?"

"I haven't been able to find much other than old cases that have been closed for ages or names of agents that are long since gone."

"I'm sure there's something here," I said, trying to be optimistic as I reached to grab another file. "We can just – "

The rest of my words died in my throat as Finn reached out and grabbed my hand, shaking his head. "It's getting late," he said, watching as the program he was working on ran to completion. As it did so, he quickly removed the memory stick he had hooked up and stuck it in his pocket. "I need to get up early for a meeting with Catherine, and I don't want to leave you out here alone." His voice was sincere as he shut down the computer before rounding the table to stand next to me. "Come on, I'll walk you back."

Maybe I wouldn't have picked up on his diversion tactic if I hadn't just come from a training session with Beckett, whose warning about Finn from weeks ago suddenly jumped to the forefront of my thoughts.

I just don't fully trust him.

And in that moment, I wasn't sure if I did either. He seemed too rushed – wanting to keep whatever he was doing private, and even if it wasn't something to be concerned about, it was enough to suggest something out of the ordinary was going on.

But I kept my suspicions to myself, not wanting to make any waves. Instead I nodded, falling into stride with him as we headed back down the tunnel.

a/n: so, in case you couldn't tell, this chapter kind of sets off the rest of the story. I'm really excited to write the final chapters and wrap up Aspen's story for you all! Also, I'm very sporadically planning my next novel – which is going to be a jump back into romance, and may include a particularly athletic MMC!

Also, one word: REPUTATION. I bought the album the minute I woke up Friday and it's basically been on repeat since. I absolutely love it, especially End Game, New Year's Day, and So It Goes! What about you guys? How do you feel about the new T Swift?