The walk back to the starting tarven, and where I'm currently staying is brisk. Very brisk. If they could have run without drawing too much attention to themselves, I'm sure they would have. They were in such a hurry.

Me, I was just along for the ride, mainly because I had to be. I was too lost in thought about what I just realized to fully comprehend anything. The thing that always keeps me going when I need rescuing is that they're coming. Someone is coming and all I need to do is hold out a little longer. Everything will be fine if I just wait a little longer.

That's not true anymore. I'm on my home turf of all things, but no one is coming. No one cares. I'm on my own.

They drag me through the city, but I'm not focused. I'm looking down alleyways, hoping that I spot some hint that I'm wrong. That the IEA does care about me and are looking for me. So far, I'm having no luck.

It doesn't matter though. I'll escape on my own. I've done it before. Well, it was with amateurs when I did it, but still. I've done it before, and I can do it again. I'm going to have to.

We reach where we originally started and they drag me through the door. My eyes flicker all around, taking in the surroundings, when they meet green ones. Zeev.

"Hey, since our drinking got interrupted, and I'm sure they've had more than us, I'm going to get us another shot or two. Be back in a bit," I say, the cover slipping out of my mouth before I realize it, and I'm walking off. They don't suspect a thing, and who can blame them. I'm good at what I do.

"You know, a trait of being a sociopath is being able to lie without having a tell," Zeev says, and I smile.

"Just further proof I am one I guess," I say, and he nods, knowing it's safe to talk.

He turns his back, and starts to pour the beer, talking while keeping his voice low. "So, this is the hideout that you've been staying in. Nice to know."

"It hasn't been a vacation for me either, brat," I growl out. He lets out a low laugh.

"Well, I wouldn't expect it to improve. Bad news; the others merged with the government, and they made a new division specifically devoted to capturing pirates. And, guess who the head of it is," He says, and I groan.

"If it's Anderson, I will shoot you. And him," I threaten, and he raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't shoot the messenger. And, they now have the government backing them, so we have to agree with everything they say. Meaning, not that many people are wanting to help you. And, since it's Anderson we're talking about, he's not going to help you or let anyone who does want to," He says, and I start cussing out a storm under my breath, spanning over three languages.

"So, I'm stuck here, with only you and Amelia to help me?" I ask, and he nods.

"Kill me now; it'll be less painful." I demand, and he shakes his head.

"Katherine is in on it too," Zeev says, and I shake my head.

"Oh, that makes everything so much better. I feel as if I'm going to be saved now since I have a junior agent aboard to help me," I say, sarcasm oozing out of every word I say.

"Tone it down. I know this isn't ideal-" He starts and I cut him off.

"No, isn't ideal means the odds aren't exactly in our favor, but I can still make a plan that will succeed. What this is is a sucide mission which I won't let you participate in. I'm not dragging you guys down with me," I say, and he just listens.

"And if we want to participate, and we don't care what you say?" He asks, and I shake my head.

"I'd say that you're a stubborn idiot, I reserve the right to say I told you so, but we're both covered by Rule 21: Always keep the good friends and never the ones who would throw you or leave you to the wolves. You play those." I answer, and he smiles.

"Perfect, I'll be getting in touch again soon," He says as he gives me the drinks.

I don't reply, but just take them with me to the table.

I give Calynn and Eva both theirs, and then realize Zeev didn't give me one. I'm going to kill him. I think I need liquor more than anyone else here.

Calynn gives me a questioning look and I just smile, before letting my eyes wander over to Miguel. She smiles as if she gets what I'm implying. If only she knew the truth.

"Well, I think we have all the details sorted out," Miguel says, and Amory nods, before turning to Eva.

"You should be happy; he drives a hard bargain," He says gruffly, though I think I see a glimmer of a smile. "Ace, Calynn, let's go."

"Miguel, why don't you take LB on up; she mentioned her wounds hurting earlier, and I noticed her limping or heavily leaning against things. Laurens can fill me in," She says, and Miguel nods.

We both get up, and I try to conceal a wince. We walk in silence, and when we finally get to the room, I remind myself it's just a few more steps. A nice bed that I can collapse in, and hopefully forget all my worries. Sure, that's bad decision making, but usually I'm at my best, and I'm too wired to sleep. Right now, it feels like I'm crashing. I honestly haven't felt this bad since... it.

I let out a small sigh. "It's been five years; when am I going to get over it and at least refer to it besides it or 'the accident'."

Miguel hums, and I notice I spaced out again since he's on the other side of the room. "What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself," I say, though even I can hear the lie. My tone is all wrong. Too emotional. Full of what emotion I don't know, but it has too much of an emotion. And it's one I don't like.

"I know you're tired, but I need to change the dressing and check how they're healing," He says, and gestures to the bed. I sigh, but go ahead and walk over there.

I lay down on the bed, then realize I have a dress on. I quickly sit up, and give him a small glare.

He raises an eyebrow, and I have to keep myself from smiling. He has no idea how much he's looking and acting like Brady right now. How could he? No one knows about him, and those that do don't talk about him around me. It's almost like it's forbidden, and I can't blame them. The last time someone tried, I may have tried to shoot them.

He lifts his hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll go out. But I am checking on the wounds, so if you were trying to get out of that, nice try," He says as he walks out, and I laugh. With most others I would be worried about what they were insinuating especially when we have to share a room. Somehow, there's something about him that puts me at ease though. Probably I'm too tired and losing my grip.

I put on the same clothes I wore earlier, getting out of the dress. I try not to feel satisfaction as I try to slip it off, glad to have something that will actually cover me. And then, I feel something catch on my shoulder blades, and try not to scream in frustration.

"Miguel, could you come in here please?" I call out, and he enters.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and I can't help but be a bit sarcastic.

"What do you think is wrong? Could it possibly have something to do with the button that I can't reach, therefore I can't undo?" I try to keep my tone light, so he knows I'm just joking. Well, sort of.

"Oh, that would make a lot of sense," He says in what I'm assuming is mock surprise.

He walks over, and goes to undo the stupid button, but then holds the dress up until I can get my hand back around and hold it up. I don't even have to say anything, before he goes and leaves again.

What is with him? He didn't even touch me when he didn't have to. Why? Why is he so different? I think as I put on my clothes, trying to figure out what he's doing. What he's trying to gain by acting like a gentleman.

"Come back in," I call once I'm situated on the bed.

He does, and winces when he sees my back.

He mutters something in Spanish under his breath, and I'm sure it's not flattering since I recognize some curse words, and Dirk's name. I then blush when I catch him talking about ruined beauty.

"I had scars before this, you know? Enough to ruin my beauty, somehow. I don't see why some people don't like them. They're a sign that you've lived, that you've been through something and survived it, and a reminder not to go to that place again," I say, my tone growing distant as I flash back.

Miguel stops his ranting, and tilts his head a little, looking at me weirdly. "You're proud of your scars?" He asks.

I take a deep breath, trying to get my thoughts straight. "No, I'm not. I'm like all women; I wish I didn't have them. Not because of beauty, because I think they add a certain character to me; they let people know what they're getting into when they try to befriend me.

"No, I'm mad I got them. I'm mad I was stupid enough to let someone cut me. Mad I was careless enough to get caught. Mad I wasn't good enough, and occasionally mad I survived where others didn't. I was mad I got them, not mad I have them.

"Now that I have them, I have them. There's nothing I can do to change that, besides remember them. Remember why I have them, who gave them to me, and what I can do to prevent getting more of them. Each scar tells a story, and I can't change the story. It's a part of me, and it made me who I am. These are just another part of my story, and an important one I think."

We're both silent after I finish talking. He finishes tending to my wounds, including changing the dressing and bandages. Once he's done, he pulls down my shirt, and then blows the lamp.

"We can hear everything going on downstairs, and it's a mixture of it being that loud and Miguel being quiet. I can barely hear him ask, "And what do you do about the ones in your head?" And I keep perfectly silent, because, for once, I don't know what to say.