Nemo's ghostly reflection stared back at him, his face paler than usual, even against the rest of the white around him.

Gill stepped up next to him in front of the glass, watching as a doctor poured a green liquid into a bottle.

"You miss your dad, don't you, son?"

He sighed. "Yeah,"

"Well, you're lucky you have someone out there looking for you."

Nemo's heart twisted. "He's not looking for me."

A pause, then, "You know the plan, remember?

He nodded.

Turning, Gill called behind his shoulder. "Peach, any movement?"

Peach had his body pressed against the glass again. "They seem to be getting things ready for Darla. Won't be long now."

Nemo's eyes had wandered to the scar streaking across the man's face, disappearing under his usual golden tie. He wondered how much farther the scar went, and what had given it to him.

Gill turned back to Nemo, and he quickly averted his eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed his staring.

"The first time I tried getting some people out of here, my brother caught me and gave me this," Gill answered the questions Nemo was thinking. "Used me as an example."

Nemo blinked. "How many times have you tried getting people out?"

He turned and walked from the glass, hands folded behind his back. "Enough times to lose count of."

Peach came up to them. "They're coming to pick up Nemo," He panted. "Better be ready,"

Gill leaned down and held his shoulders. "Okay, kid. You know the plan. By the time you shut down the generator, it will be ten times easier to get you out of here."

Nemo nodded quickly, reciting the steps in his head.

A doctor came up to Nemo, a mask over his face. "Mrs. Moorish is ready for you, 42."

He turned to go, but Gill was slipping something into his hand. It was a stone, as big as his palm. He shoved it into the elastic lining of his pants and pulled his shirt down.

He followed the doctor through a door and into the lab. It was so strange to see things from the other side of the glass, his friends nodding encouragingly back at him.

Like they rehearsed, he started squirming and moaning. "I need to use the restroom." He whined.

The doctor sighed, looking from him to a door where he assumed Darla was waiting.

"I'll be quick," He said, then turned around and ran to the restroom door, scooping up an operating tool on his way.

Inside, he looked around. About six feet up was a vent, just as big wide as his body. Standing on the toilet, he unscrewed the vent and carefully set it down.

Taking a deep breath, he hoisted his body up and into the dark tunnel, squeezing himself through the dusty interior. There were several twists and turns, and soon he could hear Deb arguing with Flo right beneath him.

He knocked on the floor of the tunnel three times and heard a knock back. He had landed right above the pod corridor.

Gill's voice sounded below him. "Okay, Nemo. See that fan?"

Nemo looked up and squinted. A fan was located at the end of the tunnel, in full spin. The way the blades were chopping through the air looked downright deadly.

He nodded, then forgot he couldn't see him. "Yeah. I see it."

"Good. You still got the stone I gave you?"

Nemo pulled it out. "Uh-huh."

"Okay. Now what I want you to do is wedge that little sucker into the blades, stop the fan."

He inched towards it, dread settling in his stomach.

"You hear me?" Gill's voice had followed him to the fan.

"I—I hear you." Nemo managed. He took a deep breath, moving his hand toward the spinning blades. Suddenly there was a sharp pain on his skin and he yelped, his hand springing back.

"I can't do this!" He whispered, pressing his sweaty forehead into the steel floor.

"He's only a boy!" Another voice cried below. Gargle, maybe?

He lifted his head and took a deep breath. "No, no. I—I can do this."

Scooping up the rock again, he resumed. His hand was getting closer and closer. He could feel the air on his skin. Another inch or two... the fan stopped.

"You did it!" Someone yelled.

"Excellent job, son," Gill called below. He sounded winded. "Is there enough room for you to go between the blades?"

He examined the space between the frozen propellers.

"I think so."

"Good," Gill said. "Now see how the tunnel continues behind the fan? Squeeze through the blades and into it."

Nemo did as he was told, his body just fitting. An opening was in the floor, a room below it.

"Don't actually go into the room," Gill called quickly. "It's too high up for you to be able to get back."

Nemo nodded, surveying the room's interior.

"The generator is on the right wall. See if you can reach it."

Nemo stretched his arm out of the hole, reaching for the generator. He flicked open the door and squinted at the confusing buttons and switches.

"Do you see the off switch?" Gill called.

There was a big, red key at the top of the board. Nemo stretched even farther, his fingertips just brushing it.

"Almost there," He gasped, sweating with the effort.

He was basically hanging out the hole now, his legs the only thing remaining inside the tunnel. A little closer...

The tunnel became almost pitch black as he grasped the red key and pulled himself back up and into the tunnel. He heard people panicking and running around below him as well as above him, yelling and barking orders.

The end of tunnel wasn't far now, and he dragged himself the rest of the way. Gill had told him that the tunnel ended in the pod corridor, and to meet him there.

Suddenly, the fan started whirring again. He was on the wrong side of it, and it was sucking him into the blades.

"Gill!" He screamed. "I thought I turned off the power!"

Gill's voice was there again. "Doggonit, I should have known the fans weren't powered by the generator! The rock must have slipped."

The fan was growing closer and closer, the wind tearing at Nemo's clothes and hair. He dug his fingernails into the slick metal, desperate for a handhold. His forearms planted on each wall, he kicked his socks off. They flew back, shredding into white strips the second they hit the propellers. He pressed his feet onto each side of the tunnel and inched himself along, his exhausted muscles screaming for a rest.

"Hang on, Nemo." Gill's voice called.

A rope of tied-together bedsheets was lassoed through the tunnel a few feet from him. He reached for it, weakening his hold on the walls and sucking his body closer to the fan. He panicked and kicked against the current, getting closer to the sheet.

"Come on, you can do this," He heard Gill's strained mutter, mostly talking to himself rather than to Nemo.

With one final push, Nemo let go of the walls, leapt forward, and grabbed the white linen. With the fight gone from his muscles, his exhausted body was sucked toward the whirring blades.

"I got it!" He cried, struggling to regain his position.

The rope suddenly yanked him forward, his toes just missing the slicing propellers.

When he reached the end of the tunnel, his body fell out of the wall, collapsing into everyone. All his friends had gathered around, and they caught his limp body in their arms.

He was completely drained, his lungs gasping for air and his face filthy with dust. None of the staff seemed to notice him, all rushing around, yelling.

"You can't do this to him, Mr. Moorish," Busby said as Deb led him away.

Gill ran a hand over his face. "No. We're done."