"Deva?"

I open my eyes. My vision is blurry at first, but as I blink, the person in front of me begins to come into focus. Dark hair and eyes. High cheekbones. A strong jaw. He looks worried.

But I know him. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I register his face. Seeing it puts me at ease.

"Deva, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?"

I open my mouth. I want to speak. All that comes out is air.

He takes my hands in his own. "Move your right hand for yes, and your left hand for no."

A shock runs through me. I feel something, a memory of this man holding my hands, of the reassurance it gave me. I move my right hand in his, and quickly move my left. I remember him, the feeling of him, his face and his voice. But I cannot remember his name. I cannot remember all of the things we must have done together. Watching his expression, which betrays nothing, I wonder if he's understood my message.

And then he smiles at me. "At least you remember this." He squeezes my hands. "I'm your brother, Blake. You're Deva. I'm so glad you're alright."

Blake and Deva. That sounds about right.

--

I wake in a cold sweat, my chest heaving in the dark. The room senses that I'm awake and the lights come on, dim at first, and then slowly brightening as my eyes adjust. I roll over, burying my face in my too-soft pillow, and I feel like I've been shot all over again when I think of my dream. It was my first memory of Blake, after I'd lost all of my previous ones.

I sit up, my head in my hands. Four days have passed since I was shot, and since Blake and I were separated from each other. Three days have passed since I agreed to kill the High Chancellor of Adia. In those three days, I haven't seen Idris once. Alexandra says he's been busy with resistance efforts, and when we saw Anden, he'd confirmed that.

So why do I feel like I've angered him somehow? He'd left that day without so much as a goodbye or pleasantry. Lovely, he'd said. He didn't sound like he thought anything was lovely at all.

Otherwise, my time has been spent with Alexandra. We've rifled through old recordings of my brawls together, gorged ourselves on snack food and gotten to know each other. She's told me of her life as an Elite, of all of the privilege and luxury that no normal person could ever hope to afford. I'd told her of my life in the Outer Ring, of my brother and Ezra and Ceres. She said she knows Ceres, that we could see each other soon if that was what I wanted.

"If I ever see that bald-headed buffoon again, it'll be too soon." I said in reply. She'd laughed at me.

I flop back onto the bed, dragging the covers over my face. Would Alexandra let me stay in my room all day today? I don't feel like going anywhere- not after my dream.

But as soon as I have the thought, Alexandra comes through the wall, her breath heavy, her normally perfect ponytail askew.

"Are you good?"

"Deva," she pants. "Deva, you have to come with me right now."

I sit up again and swing my legs over the side of the bed. "Just let me get dressed, then, hold on-"

"No, you don't understand. It's your brother."

I freeze. "My brother?"

"He's made contact with us."

We stare at each other for a brief moment.

Then I'm rushing towards the wall. It just barely forms apart to let me through. Alexandra takes my hand in hers and we jog through the identical, mazelike hallways, her earpiece leading the way. We take turns and more turns, and all the while I grow impatient enough to burst.

"What do you mean, made contact? Did he escape from whoever took him?"

"Oh, Deva," Alexandra wheezes, "if I could tell you, I would. Idris has the vidfile. He and Anden are waiting for you in the conference room, you know, the room we were in the other day? Come on, we're nearly there."

A few seconds later, we stand in front of an expanse of wall. It opens up for us, and I drag Alexandra inside, my breath frenzied. I spot Idris and Anden, seated together on one side of the table, speaking to each other in hushed tones. At my entrance, their heads snap up.

The wall closes behind us. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust- the lights in the hallway were so bright, but in here it's nearly pitch black. Alexandra leads me to a seat opposite them, urging me to sit down. When I finally do, and all is quiet, Idris speaks.

"Hello, Deva."

The mechanical tones of his voice make goosebumps erupt on my skin. I rub at my arms.

"My brother. Alexandra said you have a vidfile of him, that he made contact with you."

"His captors were the ones to make contact. I'm afraid Alexandra didn't relay the information to you correctly."

At his words, I sink into the chair, the swelling in my chest dissipating.

"Don't look so crestfallen," he murmurs. "Play the vidfile, Anden."

It materializes from the middle of the table, the same way that holo of Neo Rook appeared. I let out a strangled gasp.

Blake is before me, tied down to a chair. He looks beaten and bruised, and a trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth. I clap my hands over my own mouth. I'm already beginning to tremble from head to toe.

"Deva." My brother whispers.

I feel tears on my cheeks. I told myself I wouldn't cry in front of Idris, but I can't keep that promise anymore. I lean across the table to fully take in Blake's appearance, to burn it into my retinas so that every time I close my eyes I will see his face. It has been four days, and seeing him now is already enough to break me.

"I'm so sorry, Deva," he says. "It's all my fault."

His lips quiver and he looks away, silent tears streaming from his eyes. He takes a deep breath. When I look past the holo, just for a second, I see his face reflected on Idris' shiny mask.

"You know, when you got sick, I was out of my mind. I couldn't think straight. I didn't know how to make it better. Word on the street was that there was a cure. I searched for it, Deva, and I found it. But-" He lets out a choked sob. "I couldn't pay back the price. I just wanted to protect you, and I can't even- can't even hold you anymore, damn it! Two years ago, you knew. You knew, and you couldn't stop me. I wouldn't let you stop me. I had to find a way to get you better." He bows his head. "I hope you're alright. I know you were shot."

Leave it to Blake to think about me even when he's been beaten to a pulp. Alexandra rubs my back while I cry.

"They wanted me to pay for what I'd taken, Deva. I'd taken medicine from them. I promised them I would give them money, but I didn't have it that night. They wanted my life, but they said they saw you being taken by one of Idris' men. And they know Idris has deep pockets. They want payment. And," he rasps, "they want you. You were the only person who'd survived the dosage. They want to take you as a test subject, Deva, and I can't let that happen. So I'm saying goodbye to you right here, right now."

"Don't," I say hoarsely. "Don't, Blake, you don't mean that-"

A man steps in front of the camera- the one with the gas mask and that deep, exaggerated voice.

"That's enough," he growls. "I'll take it from here."

"No!" Blake protests. "No! I need to- Deva! Deva, you can't go to them for me! Don't let them-"

The man turns and smacks Blake in the face. I cry out, but Blake doesn't make a sound. He does spit out some blood and what I think must be teeth.

"We are giving you an ultimatum, Deva Amador. Come to us, and your brother will be spared. Do otherwise, and we'll send you his body, piece by piece."

The last thing I hear before the hologram disappears is Blake's broken sobs.

I stand from my chair, my knees weak. Alexandra opens her mouth to speak, probably to tell me to sit down, but I shake my head wildly.

"I've got to go to him."

"You'll do no such thing," Idris tells me. "You're going to stay right here, where you're safe, and then you're going through with the plan you agreed to carry out."

"Did you not see what they did to him? He's being tortured. I have to- have to go- I can't let them hurt him-"

"You aren't going anywhere." He says lowly.

"Alexandra, where's the way out? I've got to go to him. If I don't go, they'll kill him."

"Deva." For a man that barely inserts real emotion into his voice, he sounds dangerous. "Sit down."

"Miss Amador, do as he says."

Anden's narrow eyes hold no sympathy. I glare at him.

"Do you not understand?" I grit out. "That's my brother. My brother. I have to help him. We don't have anybody but each other."

"That's fine. But you're staying here, and listening to me." Idris hisses.

"What are you even saying? Don't you remember our bargain? I help you out, you help me out. Shouldn't you be agreeing with me right now? My brother is my one and only priority. If I don't help him, he's dead!"

"I'm not going to agree to you wilfully putting yourself in trouble. Do you know how treacherous it is out there?"

"I do. But I'd do anything, go anywhere for Blake." I feel myself creeping onto the edge of hysteria. "If I had known this would happen-"

"If you had known this would happen, what would you have done? Would you have rejected my offer?" He's trying to sound reserved, this I know, but he's failing. "You need me, Deva. You need what only I can give you."

"You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what it's like to care about somebody."

"Don't say that to me. Don't."

"You're just going to ship me off to the Inner Ring to play Elite, while my brother is beaten senseless. You don't know what it is to care. You don't know," I say, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "what it's like to love."

He slams his hands down onto the table. Alexandra jumps.

"Say that again." His voice is shaking. "Say that again, Deva, and you will regret it."

I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks. "You just really want things to go your way, don't you? You want that so desperately that you resorted to watching me, learning where I lived, and maybe you've even deluded yourself into thinking you love me. But you don't. You're not even remotely sympathetic. You didn't even try to comfort me. Why do you really want me, Idris? What am I worth to you, if you can't even help me in the one thing I've asked you for?"

"Deva, if you say one more word, I'll-"

"You'll what? Hurt me?"

Beside me, Alexandra shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

Idris hunches over the table, his mask turned up to me. "I would never do anything to harm you."

"Because you need me for what only I can give you," I snarl, throwing his words back at him. I blink fresh tears out of my eyes. "I think you do care about something, Idris- goals. You care about goals, but you don't understand what it takes to get there!"

Idris recoils and barks, "Sedate her, Anden, and get her away from me."

Anden stands and, with a grave set to his jaw, brandishes a syringe from his pocket. When he crosses the room, I fight back with tooth and nail, with every bit of strength I've got. But just like our last fight, he wins, stabbing me in the neck with the long needle.

A wave of bliss instantly washes over me. It pushes me under, making me compliant, getting rid of my ugly thoughts. My head swims.

"You made her a promise," Alexandra chokes. "What are you doing to her?"

"I'm protecting her," Idris says brusquely. "Don't ever forget that."

Then the world fades to black, plunging me into nothingness.

--

Idris is standing at the foot of my bed, the lines of his muscles tense. He's dressed casually, in a black bodysuit with no visible padding. He's masked and gloved as usual, and I know he's staring at me.

"Where's your cape?" I ask groggily.

"I put it away for now," he replies. "I didn't think you'd wake up so soon."

"I'm awake?"

He shrugs. "You might be. You might not be. How are you feeling?"

"Kind of sleepy. I don't want to move. My body feels like a bag of rocks."

"That's a side effect of the drug. It should wear off in the next few hours."

"What if it doesn't? I think I could... sleep forever..."

My eyes drift shut. When I open them again, Idris is sitting on the side of my bed, reaching out to move some hair away from my face, gently tucking the strands behind my ears. My head feels so heavy; it doesn't stay in one place, involuntarily leaning onto his hand.

"I miss my brother," I tell him. "I just want to see him and tell him I love him."

"I know, Deva," he says quietly. "I'll get him back for you. I promise."

I sigh in contentment. This time, when my head leans onto his hand, it's not involuntary. "I don't know if you're a bad man or not. Are you a bad man?"

"I might be. Does that scare you?"

"About as much as a cockroach does. Not at all."

"Brave girl," he murmurs. His gloved fingers trace my cheekbone before he abruptly pulls away, crossing his arms over his chest once more and turning away. "You don't know how badly I want to touch you. It's like an ache."

"Touch me how? If you... take advantage of me..." I'm just drifting off again. I fight to stay awake. "I won't be happy if you do that."

"It's not that type of touching, Deva. You and your dirty thoughts."

I snort. "You want it to be. Don't lie. Don't you think I'm pretty?"

He sounds pained. "Yes. I think you're very pretty."

"Oh. See? There's the answer to my question. You want me. Me."

"Of course I want you. I've always wanted you, since the very beginning. Even before you lost your memories."

"You knew me then? Huh. I don't remember you at all."

He chuckles. "We were close."

"Yeah, sure."

"No, really. Why do you think I've been watching you all this time? I wanted to be sure you were alright."

"Prove it, loser."

"Loser?" He sighs. "Anyway, how can I prove it? All the memories I have of us are memories that you don't share with me."

"Then take off your mask. Maybe I'd remember you then."

He shakes his head fervently. "I can't."

"Why? Are you disfigured under there?"

Idris just puts his hands flat atop his thighs, his fingers digging into his bodysuit. "You wouldn't like what you saw underneath. Trust me. You wouldn't understand any of it. It's better this way, Deva. It's better that you don't see me."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer that. I sit up, or at least I try to, because the next thing I know, Idris' arms are around me, and he's lowering me back onto my pillow. I gaze up at his mask, black and opaque and gleaming, and I touch it, running my fingers over its smooth surface. He pauses- I'm hovering an inch or so above my pillow.

"You probably won't even remember this tomorrow," he says. Then he laughs bitterly. "Funny, I'm pretty sure I said those exact same words to you before."

"Idris, how close were we?"

"So close that it hurt to pretend that we were strangers."

I'm on my pillow now, my back flat against the bed. Idris is heading for the door. A memory comes to me.

"Do you have golden eyes under that mask?"

He stops. "What makes you think I do?"

I struggle to form proper sentences. All of my words end up slurring together. "The night I was shot... golden eyes. I saw golden eyes... maybe they were yours."

Idris turns around and stares at me. I can feel his gaze through his mask- it's penetrating. He stays there for a long time. When he speaks again, I'm already drifting off.

"Maybe."