Aimee woke up, dizzy, and slowly recalling the tentacle that had slithered past her eyes, holding a syringe – or was the syringe a part of the machine itself? She remembered the sting of the needle in her neck, the icy sensation of whatever substance it had held as it was released into her bloodstream.

The first thing she saw was a blurred array of colours, which then formed Stefan Summer's hair, his face, and the tentacles that held him. Aimee shifted her body and realised with potent discomfort that she was free and able to move. She felt deadened, like her nerves had been shut down. It may have been a good thing, since it reminded her where she and Stefan stood, that they were broken up, and she couldn't just jump up and hug him. However, she still questioned why he was captive, held motionless by tentacles, becoming increasingly numb, and she was not.

He was black and blue again, like he had been under that barn when Celeste's AIM America coterie had made it their mission to discipline him. Aimee hated seeing him like this, with a seething and austere passion. And at that moment, all she hated more was her mother. Her eyes found Abba, and her robot captor, she noticed, was standing beside her like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Why did you bring us here?" she moaned, her words slackening off from her tongue.

"Well, I needed this," Abba held a vial between her fingers, in it was an intense red liquid, thick in texture. "And plus, you volunteered, remember?"

"You needed my blood?"

Well, now she knew why she felt drowsy. She placed one hand on the backrest of her chair and propped herself up. She stumbled at first, but soon steadied her stance.

"I still do, actually," Abba stated dully. "Not only do I adore you and your company, but in order for my Dominoes to fall, I need your blood. It's complicated."

For a short time, Aimee said nothing. It wasn't complicated; the way she saw it, Abba needed another reason to have her daughter by her side – a darker reason. She dared not risk being called 'soft' by her soldiers. She wanted Aimee with her, without having to admit that she had some sort of longing for the daughter she had lost years ago. So, her blood was the finger that would tip the first domino and allow for the others to fall, the key to her death device. It was simple.

"Are you gonna let us go then, now that you have it?" Aimee asked bluntly.

Abba's eyebrows pulled close towards the bridge of her nose, and her eyes lit up for a second.

"That's it? I thought you would be at least a little defiant. Is it the Doomsday thing, is it bringing you down?" she said that with pseudo sympathy.

There was a look about Aimee, though, or maybe it was the mere presence of her, that brushed Abba with guilt. The more she encountered Aimee, the more she got to know her, the more she regretted what she had missed: the chance to be a mother. Abba's pride however reminded her that guilt was an unacceptable emotion, one she would not let soften her metallic heart.

"Stefan," Aimee shook him awake and began pulling at the tentacles helplessly. "Stefan, come on. Wake up."

After watching Aimee struggle for a moment, Abba clicked the button on her remote and Stefan was released. Aimee backed away and allowed the heavy, tuberous shackles to uncoil him, until he fell forward like a ragdoll and she caught him at his shoulders.

Stefan opened his eyes, his words slurred and forcibly bitter, "Aimee? What are you doing here?"

"There's no time. We have to go, the others need us. Abba's letting us go, come on!"

"For now," she chimed in.

Aimee, halfway to the door and aiding Stefan along, glanced back at Abba. She had heard what Abba had said, she just couldn't believe it somehow.

"What?"

"I am letting you go for now."

Aimee inhaled deeply, breathing in courage, "Well, you won't have to worry about finding me. I'll come to you, and it will be the last time," she raised her chin, and her expression authenticated her words.

With that, Aimee walked Stefan into the hallway, hoisted his arm over her shoulder. The hallway stretched and circled around various other rooms, which were round-walled themselves, and around almost every bend was a soldier or two, or three at most. Aimee laid Stefan down gently, propped his back up against one of the convex walls. He resisted and wriggled out of her grip, quiet, but stubbornly thinking he did not need her care. He was not severely injured, just disorientated, which he would have told her if not for the men who were marching towards them, right around the corner.

Aimee grabbed her gun from its holster – pleasantly surprised it was still there. She rolled around the corner and pointed her gun at the men, wishing she did not have to pull the trigger. She hesitated to, until they hauled out their weaponry, and then she had no choice. Men came from behind her at that moment, and she stretched out her arm and shot them swiftly, quicker than she knew she could. More of them came and fell – it was a twisted pattern. Then, Stefan started calling her, continuously, and it was frustrating until she faced him and realised why. The second she turned around, a bullet from his gun whizzed past her head! He was standing, in a stance that would make you believe his bruises were just make-up and he had not been in a one-sided brawl an hour ago. His state fazed her for only so long before they were back-to-back, shooting soldiers. It was just self-defence. They motioned down the halls and targeted any red-and-black dressed men they passed. Then, they made it to the elevator. They went down one level and readied their guns as the doors tore open – no one. They went down another level and the men were a swarm, loud and ridiculously abundant compared to the level above them, and soon they were shooting back. Stefan and Aimee took cover behind the narrow walls of the elevator, bullets rushing terrifyingly close to them. GINM agents saw the soldiers' distraction as an opening, and quite quickly, the number of AIM soldiers began to decrease – on that floor at least.

"I think we're winning," uttered Stefan.

"Good. Close the door, close the door!" she whined, and earned herself a look from him. "What?"

He said nothing, but smiled and selected the button that would take them down a level – Aimee sucked in a breath. Again, they helped for as long as they could, and did so for the few floors thereafter. When they reached a cleared floor, they knew the others below them were either empty or populated by GINM arrivals. Aimee and Stefan stood in silence, contemplating; their backs each arched against an elevator wall. And an emotion came to Aimee, one she knew all too well: worry.

"I left Gavin and Dom alone with two of those machines," she admitted.

"They'll be okay," he assured her, fast enough to calm her some.

"What did she say to you?"

"About us?" – She nodded – "Crap. Like, actual crap, I think she needs to be awarded for the amount of lies and nonsense she is able to spin up because it is phenomenal. I've never heard anything like it."

Irresistible boyish laugh included, this was his attempt at brightening up the mood, and for a second, the idea that they were in the midst of a war was frail. Although, as candid as his words were, he had not forgotten; flashes of what Abba had said, what he had said to Aimee, hung afore his eyes, determined to thwart him. He stared, deadpan, into oblivion – his concentration was caged within his own thoughts.

"Abba wants your blood."

Aimee paused for a second, unsure whether or not to tell him she already had a sample.

"Never mind that. We're okay, Stefan. We're okay."

Almost cautiously, Aimee came closer to him, and then threw her arms around him and held on tight. He squeezed her tighter, gripped her shirt in his trembling hands.

"It wasn't real, you know that. Abba would have figured it out by now anyway, we don't have to pretend," she pulled away and cupped his face in her palms. "I love you. And she will pay for what she did," she stroked his bruises lightly. He took that hand.

"I don't care about her. I want you to know that I didn't mean a thing I said. I've risked my life every day for years without something or someone to die for until you. I love you so much."

Aimee pulled him in for another hug; she hadn't the words to reply. She let her arms wrap around his lower back and her cheek rest on his collar.

Their plan had seemed so simple:

1. Let Stefan go into AIM alone.

2. Stefan would negotiate a hostage exchange with Abba and act as though he wanted nothing to do with Aimee anymore.

3. Make the exchange and let Abba believe that without Stefan, Aimee would stay in France.

4. Then when Abba least expected it, Aimee would betray her.

Instead, Abba was closer to accomplishing her own goals, with Aimee's blood. It was the last piece of her puzzle of disaster, and she had it now. How could their plan backfire so tremendously?