Traitor, traitor, traitor, traitor. The word echoes through my ears. What had he done that was so bad?

And I am about to get my answer, because here comes Nixon Plait, head of the Complex Defiance was walking across the stage right now. He walks to the podium at the centre of the stage and then holds up a hand. The room goes silent, the man stops torturing Sorrel, and the only sound comes from the silent groans escaping his lips.

Nixon frowns solemnly out at the room. I keep my eyes on Sorrel. He looked so worn and tired. His back is streaked with whip marks and gashes and he shudders with each breath he takes.

Nixon taps the microphone on the podium then clears his throat.

"We are all members of the Complex Defiance. We have many names. The silents, the workers, the cards. But we are none of those. We will not be silents, or workers or just cards." His eyes scan the room and I drag my own away from Sorrel to listen to what he is saying. "We are individuals. We are loud. We strive for freedom. So when someone threatens that freedom, when they rag us out, so to speak, we treat them like they are just one of the complexes cards."

I frown. What did he mean?

He shakes his head and frowns, then looks at Sorrel. People are starting to mutter 'traitor' again.

"This boy was discovered helping a captive escape. He betrayed us. He deserves to be treated like he is part of the complex! And what do the complex do to criminals like him?"

Voices all around the room shout 'torture!' I squirm in my seat and Elle grips my arm.

No one is grinning, but almost every face in the room is filled with anger, except the few that hold uncomfortable or stern and annoyed.

Sorrel groans, trying to say something but no one is listening. Nixon holds up a hand to quieten the audience and they stop muttering 'Traitor' and 'torture' for a moment.

Sorrel says something quietly but then starts coughing halfway through. Nixon frowns.

"Speak up, silent."

Sorrel coughs, then clearly says, "Give me mercydt ."

Nixon scoffs and then looks out at the audience. Mumbling starts traveling through the room.

"Did you hear that? The traitor wants mercy. Should we give him any?"

"No!" chants the crowd. My stomach twists. And suddenly, towards the stage is a blur. And then there is a girl. Small with a bob of hair that curls up over her cheeks but doesn't even reach past her neck, and she can't be much younger than me.

"Stop!" she squeals.

Nixon frowns. "Get off the stage kid. A child shouldn't be part of this."

Her face fills with rage. "A child shouldn't be part of this? But he is part of this!" She points at Sorrel, her little 8 year old hand shaking. "And he is a child! You can't kill him."

Nixon thinks about this. "Alright. Take the traitor down."

Disappointed mutters from the audience, but also some sighs of relief. It was clear I wasn't the only person that thought this was wrong.

Nixon then looks down at Tala and frowns, leans over and whispers something to her. She goes pale.

Nixon raises a hand, then lowers it and walks off stage. The girl follows close behind. The people in the room are shocked for a moment at this abrupt ending to the meeting, then suddenly their attention focuses on the crumpled up Sorrel on the stage. They didn't even bother to help him up and take him away, and already rioting people are getting out of their chairs in a motion towards the stage. Most look angry. But some seem frantic, trying to get him out of safety.

I am one of the latter people.

When I get to him though, some are already holding the angered people off him while a group have materialized a stretcher from somewhere and are trying to get a near-to-unconscious Sorrel onto it. I ask someone where the stretcher came from and they just shrug.

"The defiance have a medical group that always come to these things with a stretcher."

These things? Were they regular. I didn't voice my thoughts allowed because I was too scared to know the answer. The medical people have gotten Sorrel onto the stretch and are lifting him. They test his weight for a moment, adjust their hands, then start carrying him off the stage. I follow, nervous, and Elle decides to come as well.

I hold back a few steps to walk beside her, and we cower behind the medics rushing Sorrel away. A group of people are calming down the mob, and torturer that had been on stage with Sorrel before just stands there, leaning against the back wall of the room, behind the stage, taking in the chaos. I frown and whisper to Elle nervously, "does this happen often?"

To my relief she shakes her head. Then, in a shaky voice she says, "It's only happened once before. But that time, no one stepped up to help the man."

My heart drops. "Who was the girl who stepped up? Do you know her?"

Elle nods. "I know of her. She's from unit A of the nursery, in with the rest of the 8's. She's about a year younger than us, but she's been part of the CD for a little while."

I nod. "What's her name?"

Elle shrugs. "Talulah or something."

I nod, then frown. "What about the person Nixon talked about, the captive Sorrel was helping escape. Do you know about that?"

Elle nods. "I heard about it when I was going to get us those coffee shots while you were searching through the DVD's, before we started watching Shrek. Apparently it was another girl, and Sorrel liked her, as in like-like and didn't think she should be locked up."

I scrunch up my face, grossed out. "Sorrel liked an old person? Like, an older girl."

Elle shakes her head. "No, Mae." She says, exasperatingly, as though trying to explain something to an elementary school child, which she technically was. "He didn't have a crush on an old lady. He had a crush on a girl. She's our age. Her name is-" Elle is cut off as we reach the medical part of the north wing. Someone tells us to wait outside while they're operating on Sorrel, so we obey and take seats on the plastic chairs near the door.

"So, what. Who is she? What's her name?" I ask Electra.

She sighs. "Well, her name's Haley, and she's..." Elle trails off into silence.

"And she is?"

Elle does not reply, just stares guiltily at the floor.

"What? Who is she?" I demand.

Elle nods and bites her tongue. "Her name's Haley and she's the daughter of Aril Trey."

My head spins.

The daughter of Aril Trey.

Aril had a daughter.

Aril was a mother.

And that was when one of the nurses rushed out of the room. That was when the scream pierced the near silence of the defiance. That was when Sorrel, the torture victim, woke up.

-*-*-

I start running through the hallways. I don't look back at Tala behind me, I just run. Then, eventually, when I can't run any further, I stop and lean against the wall, sobbing. I don't even know why I am so upset. It's not as though I wasn't expecting Calix to have secrets. Just not that secret secrets.

Tala leans against the wall beside me, and I try to stop sobbing, but it's incredibly hard, so in the end I just lean against her. She comforts me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and just letting me cry.

The tears are warm on my cheeks, and I realize how cold it is down here in the CD. How devastatingly cold.

Tala suddenly sighs and I sit up, wiping away my tears. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing, but Maedana, can I just ask you a question?"

I nod. She frowns. "Why didn't Aril Trey kill you?"

The question catches me off guard. I had expected her to ask me something like 'why are you so upset?' but here she was asking me a question I had asked myself so many times.

And yet I still had no answer, so I remain silent.

Tala nods. "That's what I thought. You don't have a reason."

I swallow the lump in my throat and frown. "I just-"

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. "No, you didn't let me finish. You don't have a reason, so make one."

My head stumbles over her words. "What do you mean?"

She smiles, her eyes soft and sympathetic. "Maedana, I know you've been thinking about it a lot recently. I also know that you do believe in this rebellion, you just don't want to see the bloodshed. So all I am telling you is this. People are going to die. People die every day. But more will keep dying for no good reason other than bloodthirsty justice if you do not stop it. If you do not stop them."

The tears are back again, but now Tala's shoulder isn't there. She is walking away. And suddenly it is all too much for me to bare. Calix, the Defiance, Aril Trey, Tala's words, its all too much.

And I can't bare it any longer. I need a break. So what do I do?

I drink. Alcohol is the best medication, said every sick hearted, messed up, alcohol-obsessed person that ever roamed this earth. Or maybe it's just me, I'm not sure.

I know it will not last. I know I will have to leave that drunk haze sooner or later, but just a few hours was enough to get my head off things. So I leave the underground, my head and heart heavy with the knowledge of secrets that I don't want to know and decisions I don't want to make.

~~~

Glore is back at the bar. He seems to have sobered up a bit as well. When he sees me walking through the crowd he raises an eyebrow but does not question why I am here. Instead he just offers me a seat and knocks on the bench to catch the bartenders attention. The man turns and nods at Glore, walking over while sweeping up the white plastic cups littering the bench into a black plastic bag. The bar once had glass mugs and bottles but learned that glass breaks and plastic cups are a whole lot easier to clean up than blood.

"What is it mate?" The bartender asks. Glore nods towards me.

"Get the F a scotch. She sure looks like she needs one." The bartender looks over me for a minute, no doubt taking in the fact that I am the F, then turns to get me liquor.

I frown and take the seat Glore offered me. "If you lay a finger on me, I swear I will punch you."

He laughs. "Maedana, I think we both know who would win in a fight between you and I. And besides, I have no intention of touching you."

The bartender returns with a plastic cup filled to the brim with brown, thick, strong smelling liquor. I stare at it a few moments and Glore laughs. "You know F, you're supposed to drink it."

I frown yet again, then hesitate a moment, but tip the cup up anyway.

The drink slugs through my mouth, twisting my taste buds. It tastes horrible, like rotten fruit mixed with dirt and potatoes, and my first reflex is to gag and spit it all out, but I fight the urge and swallow it.

It burns my throat for a second, then vanishes, replaced by a light fluffy sort of feeling.

Glore laughs, for reasons I don't know, then says to the bartender, "Get the girl another cup. Extra strong."

While the man is attending to that I frown at Glore. Even after just this one drink my head is slightly fuzzy. "Aren't you going to question why I am drinking here with you?"

Glore shakes his head. "Nope. We all have reasons we are here but we want to forget them, so drunk we go, in the process forgetting what we want forgotten."

His logic has so many gaps I can't help but frown and shake my head. The bartender returns with two cups, both of which he hands to Glore, who passes one to me.

The liquid smells twice as strong this time, but it smells strangely nice. Or maybe that was just my senses already being messed up.

"Maedana, do not question it. Just..." he bumps his own plastic cup against mine. "Drink until your drunk."

I nod and take away the cup, then do exactly that. Drink.

~~~

I am drunk. I know I am drunk. But I don't know why I am drunk. Who made me drunk? What made me drunk? Why made me drunk?

I almost laugh out loud at my own thoughts. In fact I do. But then I forget why I am laughing and stop. I feel like an crazy person. Wait, what was crazy?

I don't even know! I laugh at Glore who is trying to scull a really big bottle of beer. That beer looked nice. I want some.

"Mr Waiter." I call to the man behind the bar. "Mr Waiter. Fill me up again." I bang my cup down on the bench, but accidentally bang too hard and crush it. I sit there looking at the crumpled plastic for a second, then burst out laughing. It was just so darn hilarious! Then I start crying. Because it was my cup! And I had murdered it!

"I'm a murderer." I sob. "I'm sorry cup. I'm sorry!"

Then suddenly I crash to the floor. And then there are people helping me up. And carrying me on their shoulders. And it is kind of fun, but I am too sad to have fun.

I shout it out once more, "I am a murderer! I'm sorry!" Then I fall into black.

~~~

I am a murderer.

That is the first thing I think of when I come to, and I nearly freak out. But then I remember. The cup. Scotch. Beer. Glore. Drinking.

Calix.

I push the last name from my head, but it comes back. It will always come back. That is the problem with getting drunk. Sure, you forget your problems, but when you remember they are two times worse.

My head is throbbing. I force my eyelids open, then immediately close them, the light so bright I can't handle it.

"Maedana, get up." Reese's voice comes to me through the haze. It is sharp and annoyed, but also angry and worried.

I groan but yet again try opening my eyes. The glare is not as bad this time. Reese is standing over me. We are in our room. It is mildly dark, but she has the light on. It isn't a bright light, quite dull actually, but for some reason it is as though I am staring at the sun. Reese is frowning, annoyed.

I go to sit up but wince when my head throbs. Reese shakes her head at me.

"Maedana, you have a hangover."

I cough and bunch up my eyelids, confused. "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's what happens when you drink too much."

I shake my head, a movement that makes it throb even more, so I just lie down again. Reese looks concerned. I frown at her. "What are you doing here, helping me?"

"Well Tala found you kissing some 40 year old guy and rambling about murdering cups, and she was a little worried so she brought you back here, and I took over because, darn it, your first time drinking did not go well."

"I don't remember that." I frown.

She shakes her head. "No, I don't suppose you do Mae."

I am surprised she called me Mae. No one ever calls me that, apart from Calix.

Calix...

"I'm gonna kill him!" I say loudly and go to get up, but fail miserably and end up lying on my bed in an angry mess.

"Who?" Reese asks. "Glore. It wasn't his fault you got drunk."

I frown. "No, it was all Calix's."

She shakes her head, sighing. "No, it was all your fault. You can't blame anyone but yourself."

It was true. But suddenly I start sobbing. And then it's all out, the tears that had been held at bay through alcohol.

Reese is caught off guard for a minute, probably never seeing me cry. But then she is there, next to me, telling me to calm down. I listen, and then decide to tell her what happened.

When I am done, she frowns. "Haven't you heard the gossip?" She asks.

I shake my head.

"There's going to be a new black soon. They committed their crime about a week ago. Nothing huge, just talking back to an official or something like that."

I frown. "And how does that have anything to do with what we are talking about?"

She shakes her head. "Don't you get it Maedana? The. Girls. Name. Is. Elyria."

I bite my lip. "No, she can't be-"

Reese holds up a hand, cutting me off. "Aren't you wondering why there is gossip about a new black?"

Now that she mentions, it was strange people would gossip about a new person. New blacks were so common they were like clouds in the sky.

Reese sighs. "Mae, Calix isn't cheating on you. He never was."

I frown, but my chest lifts strangely. "How do you know?" I ask accusingly.

She rolls her eyes. "Because Elyria is eleven years old."

My head spins. Whether that is from the hangover or from the news I just heard, I don't know, but I swear my heart does a flip in my chest.

"I need to speak to-" I am cut off by a knock on the door. Reese and I both exchange a confused glance, and she gets up, cautiously walking to the door. She pulls it open to reveal Glore, showing no signs of how drunk he got last night.

He nods at Reese then struts inside our room. For a moment he looks around the walls and at the small en-suite type bathroom that really just contains a toilet, then he shifts his gaze to where I am sitting up in bed. I try to keep my eyes on his face but he was standing in front of the light and my head was throbbing, so I end up just wincing and looking away.

He smirks. "Look who got drunk for the first time."

I nod, then change my mind and shake my head. Then, when my head throbs, I abandon the effort and just lay my head on my pillow.

"What are you doing here Glore?" I ask, my voice flat. It comes out more tired than I wanted it to.

He shrugs. "I came to see whether you were up to training. But you clearly aren't."

I frown and push myself up, ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach. "I'm fine."

He laughs. "As if F. You aren't and you know it. But you still need to train because I am not supervised to take you off."

I groan. "Can't you just let me not do training."

He rolls his eyes and smirks. "Duh, F. That's what I'm here to do. But you still have to train Calix. He's behind. But seeing as you stayed back yesterday, I'll authorize you to a private, out-of-gym training session."

I frown. "What does that mean?"

He doesn't reply, just smirks and walks away. Reese closes the door behind him and I groan and fall back against the pillows. Reese sighs and slides one of the pistols off the shelf that holds the guns. There is 4 automatic rifles, two that belong to each of us, and then there are a row of hand-sized guns, the most commonly used, in a range of sizes and designs. None of the guns held bullets - the complex were not dumb enough to give us armed guns, they just give us ammo when we are on guard jobs or in jobs that need guns - but each was as strong as steel. Next to them is a rack of bullet proof vests, compulsory to be worn if you are on guard duty or other jobs. I wear mine all the time anyways.

Reese tucks her pistol in her belt then looks back at me and frowns. "I need to go to work. Glore clearly has something planned for you, so just do whatever he wants you to. And don't drink anything."

I almost laugh. As if I would want to drink right now. But I don't, mainly because she was looking out for me and also because as I think about it, I kind of do want to drink. I know it will just make me feel worse but suddenly, I didn't mind it. That high that I had was enough to get through the hangover afterwards.

Reese smiles faintly at me, and I smile back slightly, then she is gone. I try to sit up yet again but my head throbs, so yet again I lie back into my pillow.

Sure, I'd be fine with some more alcohol, if I could get any, I think, as I close my eyes and fall to sleep.