Song of the Chapter: A Dream - Rundfunk (House)

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(Monstercat's POV)

It's past one o'clock in the morning, and they still haven't returned. I'm nervous, as is everyone else, but no one is as worried as Noisestorm. I knew he and Phantom were close, but I never thought it'd be close enough to cause him to have breakdowns and panic attacks. He's been pacing the hallway all night long, whispering to himself and only pausing to go to the bathroom or eat. He kept telling me he felt sick, like he was going to throw up, but then would go and eat an entire bag of chips.

Emotions are interesting. Both Noisestorm and Braken have unhealthy amounts of fear for their friends, but they both cope with it very differently. One of them won't move or eat and the other can't stop.

Noisestorm comes into the room again, looking like he hasn't slept in days. His hair is a ruffled mess, he droops over when he walks, and his eyes are afraid and exhausted. He grabs a bag of Cheezits and slumps down on the bed, grabbing a handful and shoving it in his mouth.

"You need to go to sleep," I tell him.

"Not until Phantom comes back," he says through the mouthful of crackers.

"Please? Everybody else is."

"How can I?" he demands. "How can I just leave him like that? Pretend that nothing's wrong? I don't know if you've ever had a friend like this; a friend that makes your heart race, a friend who makes you smile and feel like there's one person in the world who actually cares, and you feel a need to always treasure that friendship, and protect them from the dark world that's beaten you down ..." His voice suddenly cuts off and he runs his hand through his hair, trying to stifle any emotion.

I pause and think for a moment. "I wish I could have a friend like that," I finally say.

Braken sniffs loudly from across the room. "Leo is a friend like that ... to everyone," he says quietly.

"He definitely is," Rogue agrees without looking up from the notebook he's drawing in.

So is Braken, once he finally opens up. That's the tricky part about him. He needs someone else close to him, but he won't let anyone in.

"Come get some sleep," I say again, snagging the bag of Cheezits away from Noisestorm. "At least lay down."

"Fine," he mumbles, pulling his hoodie over his head, very careful to keep his white shirt covering his back. I know from the incident before the official rebellion that he's hiding something there, but I don't dare ask him, especially at a time like this. He practically dives into the bed, wincing as he tests his sore tailbone, and lands next to Rogue, leaning over to look at what he's drawing. "What is that?" he asks.

Rogue jumps in surprise and smashes his notebook against his chest. "Nothing."

"It sure looked like something." Noisestorm tries to grab it, but his attempts are half-hearted.

"It's none of your business." Rogue takes his helmet off and sets it gently on the nightstand. "I'm going to go to bed, so you better be quiet." He lays down on his side, facing the other bed with his back to the other artist.

I eat a few crackers and then get up and turn the lights off, leaving just the city lights through the closed window for light. It's still raining, and the sound is calming. Eventually, Noisestorm quits muttering and goes quiet, probably not sleeping, but at least resting. I climb into the bed next to Braken and try to let myself relax. Finally, I fall asleep, too, but my ears still pick up the quiet noises in the room. I can hear the rain, pattering gently against the window, and the occasional rolling of thunder. Someone on the other side of the room rolls over, sifting in the bed. I can both feel and hear Braken curl up even tighter, and hear his breathing quicken. I'm pretty sure he's asleep, too, but he must be having a dream or something. He whimpers a little and rolls over to face me, though I can't see him. "Leo," he murmurs.

My ears twitch, forcing myself to stay out of the deep sleep that won't let me hear him. Should I wake up, or let him handle it on his own?

"Leo ... no... no ... why did you do this to him?" He sounds like he's having a conversation with someone - someone he's afraid of. I can hear him crying as he whispers into the dark. "You promised ... "

There's a pause, broken only by the thunder.

"No ... " Braken chokes on his words. "You promised ... " He suddenly grabs me, crying out in despair. "You promised!"

I snap awake and sit up with a jolt. Braken wakes up as well and immediately yanks himself backward, isolating himself.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

He takes a deep, shaking breath. "It was just a nightmare."

From across the room, Noisestorm snorts. "We're living a nightmare."

"No, for a rebellion, we have it easy," I snap, suddenly angry. I've lost close friends in rebellions twenty times worse than this. "Trust me, I know."

"Maybe for you. For us? We just make music and screw around. This is insane - especially after what we were doing before." He laughs humorlessly. "Pain is relative."

I don't say anything, choosing instead to stay quiet and think.

Braken shifts uncomfortably, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them. He rubs his eyes with his hoodie sleeve and sighs. "Nineteen," he mutters. "Grow up, Braken."

Just then, there's a quiet and careful knock on the door. Noisestorm immediately springs out of the bed like it's on fire and throws open the door, slamming it shut again when he sees who it is.

"What was that for?" I ask.

He takes a deep breath, shaking and leaning against the door frame. After a second, he opens it again, falls against it, and closing it again, softer this time, like he can't believe it.

"Dude, let us in," Phantom's exhausted voice comes from the other side.

Upon hearing this, Braken is suddenly across the room, throwing the door open once more and collapsing in Tristam's arms. He starts to cry again, quietly this time, gripping him tightly.

"Ouch, Braken," Tristam murmurs, grimacing.

"Tristam!" I shriek in delight, and Rogue jumps up.

"Where?!" His face lights up. "Tristam!"

Braken looks up at his friend and notices something, making a little distressed noise and gently touching the cut on his jaw. "Who did this to you?"

Tristam jerks away and Braken flinches. "Please ... " Tristam whispers. "Please don't touch me like that." He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I'm just ... "

"Oh, Leo," Braken breathes, tears sliding down his cheeks, "what have they done to you?"

I switch my attention to Noisestorm and Phantom, feeling like I'm intruding into a very personal conversation.

"Phantom ... " Noisestorm whispers. "You came back."

Phantom smiles, exhausted. "I guess I did."

Noisestorm hesitates, and them grabs him in a hug again. "I thought I'd lose you," he mutters.

"You'll never lose me," Phantom answers softly, a promise we both know is impossible to keep.

Rogue runs, limping, down the hallway, yelling, "TRISTAM IS BACK! GUYS, TRISTAM IS BACK!"

Doors open, some bursting, others quiet, anxious, annoyed, relieved, but everything always changes to cries of delight as the artists swarm us. Everyone crams into our room, sitting on beds, the floor, and the desk. Tristam is shoved into the middle of the room, the center of attention. He looks very uncomfortable, especially since everyone is shouting questions at him all at once.

One quiets the entire group. "Where's Aero Chord?" Au5 asks softly.

Everyone turns and stares at Phantom for an answer.

"He's ... " He hesitates, searching for the right words and letting his eyes wander the room. I follow his gaze, noticing small things in each artists' body language; Danyka's anxious expression, Eveelyn scooting a little closer to Rogue, Braken gripping Tristam's arm tightly, Noisestorm sitting in a protective and threatening manner, Nitro Fun's fingers drumming, Stephen Walking's worried face, Hellberg's frightened eyes. "He's ..." Phantom starts again. "This takes a little bit of explaining, I guess, but he's not coming."

The room explodes with cries, protests, and angry, accusing comments. "This wasn't a trading mission!" Stephen shouts, furious.

Phantom throws his hands up in a timeout gesture. "That's what I said. Believe me, I tried, but there was no stopping him." The room quiets down and he continues. "We were doing everything fine, until I messed up a little ... And then we found Tristam and we were surrounded and ..." He swallows hard and Noisestorm nudges him reassuringly. "And Aero told us to run as he killed a guy and shot another ... by then we were already down the hall."

"Aero killed someone?" Soulero whispers.

Tristam nods, keeping his eyes down and picking at the hem of the uniform shirt he's wearing. Braken shifts closer to him and rests his hand on his friend's knee, probably as a comfort for both of them.

"What happened to you?" Rogue asks.

Tristam shrugs, his pale face and haunted eyes suggesting that he doesn't want to talk about it.

"How did Phantom find you?" Laura calls from across the room.

"Did you see the leader?" That's Rootkit, I think.

"Are they part of the MI?" Tut Tut Child asks, repeating himself louder and louder when no one answers.

"Where is it?"

"What did you see there?"

"How did you get out?"

"Do they have other artists?"

"What did you find there?"

"What happens if they find out who we are?"

"How did you get in?"

"Do they know where we are?"

"Did you see Ephixa?"

"Are they going to come after us?"

"Should we be worried?"

"Did they ask you anything?"

"What's going on?"

All the questions overlap, and gradually, the room gets far too loud. I cover my ears and yell for quiet, but no one can hear me.

Tristam doesn't like it either. He's closing himself off; one of his arms wrapped around his torso in a self-hug, his shoulders angling inward, and his knees together with his feet pulled back to the base of the bed. All of these are things I've seen Braken do, but never Tristam. He's such an open and outgoing person, and it worries me to see him act like this.

"Guys!" I shout again. "Leave him alone!" No one listens, so I jump up onto the desk and scream it out. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" The room falls silent again and the artists stare at me. "Look at him for a second. He's been captured and held there for five days. Give him a break and let him breathe."

Tristam gives me a grateful glance.

"One question at a time," Stephen suggests.

"How 'bout you let them get some rest instead?" Hellberg says. "They're not looking too good. Ask them in the morning."

"It is the morning," Droptek points out.

"Shut up," Varien hisses. "Hellberg has a good point."

Most of them give in and finally, we get everyone out of the room except for myself, Rogue, Braken, Noisestorm, Phantom, Au5, and of course, Tristam. He stays sitting on the bed, sitting quietly and staring at the floor.

I come over and sit next to him. "Are you really okay?"

He shrugs. "I guess. I mean, I'm not dead yet. I am hungry, though."

"What happened?" Braken asks as Au5 hands Tristam the bag of Cheezits and an apple.

"If you can, please tell us," I say. "We only want to help. But if you don't want to talk about it, I'm not going to force you to say anything."

Tristam pushes the crackers away and hesitates a second, collecting his thoughts. "I woke up in this dark room," he says quietly, turning the apple over in his hand. "There was a man there, fawning over me - like I was some sort of prized object instead of a human being." He shivers and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "He kept touching me, drawing lines across my face with his finger, acting as if I couldn't feel it."

Braken's face is pale in horror. He has his hand on Tristam's leg, pulling himself closer. "How could he do that?"

"I don't know." Tristam's voice is shaking. He swallows hard, staring Braken's hand now instead of the floor. "He was repeating the same two things over and over ... 'you're mine now, I can do what I want with you', and that Flight would be beautiful on me. I ... I don't know what that is. He kept telling me that I was perfect and so beautiful, like an object, and I learned that only certain genetics and certain body types can handle Flight, whatever that is, and that's why he was so determined to keep me." His voice drops to a whisper, and he can barely speak the last word. "I was the perfect specimen."

"Who is this guy?" Rogue growls. "I'm about to go bash his head in."

"I don't know." Tristam shakes his head. "He didn't tell me anything about himself, only about how amazing I was. I don't even know if he's working with the MI or not."

"Jensen," Phantom mutters from across the room. He finishes changing his shirt and catches the confused looks. "Matthew Jensen - he used to work with my parents, before ... before the accident."

"What else do you know about him?" I demand.

He hesitates, and I can see him holding something in - rage. He's trying to control his rage. "Not much, I'm afraid. I avoided him. He freaked me out, and frankly, he still does."

"Good," Tristam mutters. "No one should objectify people like he does."