"Tom and Angie almost died."

The words sent a jolt of pain through Jerry, but he fought not to express anything other than relief. For Sarah's sake.

He still couldn't breathe properly, not after an hour in which he'd been out of his mind with worry because she'd been taken away from him. Fortunately, she returned safe and sound, without a scratch on her. Just confused.

"They didn't hurt us. Just served us lunch," she said.

"Us?" The word made no sense.

"Yeah. Christine, Kay, Angie and me. It was weird." And then she'd dropped the bomb. "Angie said they both passed out and she has no idea what happened next. They woke up in their cell."

"I don't understand." It was all he could say to the news, because everything that was happening escaped the mold of what he'd become used to.

Like in a foreign dream, he remembered complaining about it in the jungle, on their first mission, pointing out how Snitch Gravel made no sense. Tom had contradicted him, claimed that they just couldn't see it yet.

And for the longest time, Jerry had thought his brother had been right. Because once they dug into Snitch Gravel's organization and learned more about what they were doing, it became obvious.

Test them, not kill them. Thwart the Agency. After a while, Jerry could even lie to himself that it was nothing personal. Just Snitch Gravel against the Agency with them caught in the middle. Once Freider died, the illusion was broken, but so was the war with Snitch Gravel. He left them alone. Until now.

He was back to square one, not understanding, and it pushed him back years, returned him to the state of confused teenager, unable to tell up from down.

"Jerry, are you okay?"

The sound of his name rolling off Sarah's lips forced him back to cold, cruel reality. He couldn't afford this pity party. He was beyond that.

"No, I'm not. And neither are you."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Fake it till you make it."

He shook his head. Being alive was not something one could fake. "Any other news? How are Kay, Angie and Christine?"

"Fine. Angie was a little shook, understandably, but other than that... Christine talked the most. Sam says we're in Japan and that Snitch Gravel has the next jewel. Also she claims Sammy and your mom are safe, but couldn't say more since there were guards there."

Jerry's heart skipped a beat at the news, but he just nodded. He wished he'd be allowed to talk to everyone, too, but this was the next best thing. So he focused on Sarah now. 

Ever since they'd met, he knew she was strong in a way that was completely different from him or from anyone he knew. She didn't have the fire that Kay, Jessie and Angie had, not even Christine's warrior attitude. And yet, here she was, taking this all in stride, trying to fake bravery until it became part of her.

"Sarah, it's okay to be scared," he said.

She nodded. "I never said I wasn't. This is not easy to handle."

"Then why aren't you here?"

"What do you mean?"

He opened his arms. "Ever since you were brought here, you've done your best to show me how strong you are, that you can take this. I don't need that. I already know." She'd also avoided calling him Remy, as if any show of emotion testified an unexplained weakness.

Her lower lip trembled. "No, you don't know."

"Strength is strength, Sarah. No matter how you came to posses it. And what you went through was just as bad as this."

"I just..." She scooted a little closer to him. "I know you. I know that you're thinking this is your fault, that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"Actually, I'm not." Which was true. He'd climbed over that state of mind the moment he'd decided to tell her about the Agency. "If you think I'm contemplating a way to break up with you, you couldn't be more wrong."

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she moved into his arms and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, Remy. I just thought you didn't need me moping around as well."

He held her tightly, relishing in the confort her presence gave him. "I need you just the way you are, because that's why I fell in love with you. No pretending. I'm scared, too, but I've long learned it's not a weakness."

"I should've know that, too," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm just so out of my element here. I don't even know how to defend myself."

"If we ever get out of here, I'll teach you. But, if it makes you feel better, training doesn't help in the situation we're in."

She gave a wet giggle, but stiffened a second later. Jerry heard it too, so his muscles tensed as well. There were footsteps approaching from the end of the corridor. He hated himself for hoping they were headed for Kyle's cage, but his brother could handle anything they could throw at him much better.

It still shocked him how dehumanizing terror was, how his survival instincts trampled his morals. Snitch Gravel had almost reduced them to basic animals.

As it was, the footsteps were not meant for Kyle. Two men stopped in front of the bars, looking less than pleased with their assignment. Jerry moved in front of Sarah, blocking her from view.

"We're here for you," one of the men grunted. "So come on out."

Jerry's knees shook beyond control, but he complied. There was no use fighting it. It would just mean more pain. But after days of no torture, he'd hoped it was over.

Sarah grabbed his hand, and he could feel it was shaking, so he turned to her and put his hand on her face.

"I'll be fine. I love you." He said that last bit in case the first one turned out wrong.

She nodded and let him go, understanding that he had to do this. "I love you too, Remy."

Forcing his mind to take her words and go to a safe place where he would go over basic knowledge, passages from books or musical notes, he followed his guardians.

Shockingly, they did not lead him lower towards the torture chambers, but upwards and down a corridor he'd never seen. It was shorter and somehow warmer, lacking prison bars or battered wooden doors.

Before he could come up with a reasonable destination for the journey, the man first in line opened a carved wooden door and they both moved out of the way to let him in.

Jerry stepped through the threshold and froze. He was vaguely aware that the two men had closed the door behind him. He'd wound up in a office filled with traditional wooden furniture, paintings of cherry blossoms and decorative weaponry on the walls.

But none of that drew his attention more than the window. For the first time in over a week, he saw sunlight. It was weak, as if dusk had fallen, but it still brought him so much hope.

"Hard to imagine there's still light in the world, isn't it?"

The voice made him jump and turn his attention to the man behind the desk. He'd been so fascinated by the window, he'd totally missed Snitch Gravel actually being there.

He stood, his head slightly tilted, as if assessing whether Jerry was worth talking to.

"We haven't had chances for one-on-one conversation so far, have we? Or even the taunting kind I tend to have with your brothers."

Jerry didn't answer. He saw no point. Apparently he was the subject of the taunting now, and he wouldn't give Snitch Gravel any satisfaction.

Snitch Gravel did not speak, but rather watched him with a thoughtful air, rubbing his chin, as if trying to decide what to ask.

"I find it a bit odd that I didn't have any desire to talk to you so far. I mean, you are your father's son more than any of your brothers."

Jerry flinched, even as he tried to remain neutral. He wasn't sure if he took the words as an insult or not. After more than a year, he still had mixed feelings about his father's death. And as long as there were still secrets, he couldn't decide on anything.

The realization that Snitch Gravel actually knew the truth was overwhelming, but Jerry still didn't ask because he was convinced there would be no answer. Sam had already asked. And even if there would be, Jerry had something else in mind. A question so consuming it was the only thing which could break his silence. Because Snitch Gravel would know. He had to.

"Sit down," Snitch Gravel said, nodding towards the chair in front of the desk.

Jerry complied and was a little shocked by how comfortable sitting on something else but rock was.

Snitch Gravel leaned back in his own seat, joined his fingers and fixed his eyes somewhere above Jerry's head. "I'm not even sure where to begin with you. You're so different."

No, he wasn't. And if Snitch Gravel couldn't see that, then it was a crack in his all-knowing mask. But he didn't bother pointing that out.

"I am a bit fascinated by your attraction to older women though," Snitch Gravel continued on a conversational tone. "Though your current love interest seems an upgrade from your last. But Sam..."

Jerry wrapped his fingers around the edge of the chair and squeezed, forcing himself to stay silent. He wasn't going to get into this conversation, as much as he wanted to point out that who he and Sam dated was none of his business.

"What? This is it? Not going to rage? Ask anything? Blame me for your misfortune?"

The silent treatment was working, even if it cost him everything to stay silent. But Jerry could tell he was about to be dismissed and he wanted nothing more. Instead, Snitch Gravel leaned towards him, his eyes narrowed, looking frighteningly familiar.

"Don't you care why I'm doing this?"

Yes, he did. But he cared about something else more.

"Did Lee Hannigan ever work for you?"

The question shocked Snitch Gravel into silence. For a second, his eyes were wide with both surprise and confusion, then he narrowed them again.

"Now why would you ask that?"

"Did he or did he not?"

Snitch Gravel grinned and it sent a shiver down Jerry's spine. "This is how it's going to work. If you want answers, you'll have to give some of your own. So I will answer you if you tell me this. What happened up there?"

Jerry pressed his lips together, trying to think clearly, determine whether his obsession with Lee Hannigan was worth the information. Then again, what could Snitch Gravel do with it since he already knew the outcome?

"He injected Jimmy with something and he became... Well, you know this. So I want to know who ordered it."

"That is a very interesting question."

And yet, he wasn't answering it. Jerry did his best to keep his composure, not show that this cat and mouse game was getting to him in the worst possible way.

"Hannigan was never mine," Snitch Gravel finally said. "The Agency tried to infiltrate him at some point, but it was poor cover work at best. He was way too curious for the grunt he was trying to portray. Why did they send you into outerspace in the first palce?"

Jerry didn't answer. He was too busy digesting the confirmation of his most bleak theories, and it was in that moment that he realized he'd have rather not known. This didn't make things easier. It just put Jimmy and all of them in a lot more danger. Sure, they could maybe skirt around it for a few more months, maybe even years, since Snitch Gravel had stopped them from starting the war by kidnapping them, but it was a confirmation that they were on the wrong side.

Is this what Jimmy knew? What he figured out when he went out into the void and risked everything? Were Hannigan and Sanchez right and Jimmy had been trying to sabotage the satellite?

"I know what's up there," Snitch Gravel said, a clear nudge that he wanted an answer.

"Why is it up there?" Jerry asked instead.

"That, I'm not sure of."

"Just like I'm not exactly sure why we were there to begin with. They had Jimmy fix a little bit of a whole we never got to see, even if--" Jerry's mouth dropped open. Jimmy had seen the whole. He'd realized what it was and tried to destroy it.

"Yes?"

Was it connected to the jewels? To why they had been recruited, were in constant danger ? "Why do you want the jewels?"

"What, is it your turn to ask questions?"

Jerry didn't care about the game anymore. He wrung his hands in his lap and stared Snitch Gravel directly in the face. "Why do they want them?"

Snitch Gravel squinted again. "I see. Who figured it out?"

Even if he could sense the danger in that question, Jerry couldn't palce it, so he just shook his head, his knees now shaking. This was bad, so bad. And what made it even more terrifying was that he realized that if the Agency was evil, then Snitch Gravel...

No. He killed people. He hates us. He's actively torturing us. His actions led to Dad's death. But who was Freider Grant anyway? And why was their family history interlaced with that of a secret organization with hidden nefarious plans?

"You don't know. And it's not Sam," Snitch Gravel insisted.

Jerry shook his head because he didn't want to get Sam in trouble, even if he couldn't focus properly on the meaning behind their enemy's words. Enemy. They had too many enemies.

You don't know what it's like to have enemies.

Freider had been wrong. He'd ended up leaving them an entire supply of them, Snitch Gravel maybe losing his spot as the most dangerous.

"And he didn't tell you?"

Jerry couldn't even compute the question, but he shook his head anyway, more to ward Snitch Gravel away than anything. Jimmy had figured it out and never got to share it with them. Which once again made him very dangerous to all parties involved.

"I see you're shook." Snitch Gravel pressed a button on his desk and the door opened. "We'll leave this for another time. My schedule doesn't allow for you to figure your shit out while I wait."

Jerry didn't protest, his mind spinning as the same two guards led him back to his cage. Even if no one had laid a finger on him this time, the conversation had been an entirely different kind of torture.

🏯

Kyle had no idea what had changed and why, but he didn't mind no longer being tortured. He also couldn't complain that Kay had been brought into his cage and was receiving preferential treatment.

"I can't believe Angie is here," she mumbled against his chest.

He tightened his hold on her. Even if everything around him was hard and uncomfortable, he at least now had something warm and soft to hold. It made all the difference in the world.

"You don't sound sad about it, though," he observed. The news had surprised him too, though he had to admit it was a pleasant surprise. But he didn't want to mention that because Kay might've preferred Angie to be away and safe rather than captured with them.

"I'm not," she answered, her voice blunt. "She should've been here in the first place."

Her statement made him huff and she lifted her head off his chest to glance up at him. Even if they'd been in that cage together for maybe two days, he was still a little shocked every time by the swirl of emotions behind her eyes. A bit of amusement, sadness, relief. Worry. Fear.

It was that last tiny piece that got to him most, because it was there for him as well. Through all the relief and the wind down, fear was constantly there, lodged into both their hearts for a very simple reason. There was nothing to infirm their suspicion that Kay really was pregnant.

"Anyway, at least they gave us more to eat, so you can stop giving me all your food," she said.

"You need the food more than me."

"No, I don't. Agreed that I'm a little hungrier than maybe I would've been in different circumstances, but then again, this could all be inside my head. You, on the other hand, should build up your strength for when we're busting out of here."

He liked her confidence, but couldn't really see that happening for some reason. The limbo confused the life out of him. Why wasn't Snitch Gravel either killing them or letting them go? 

The sound of approaching footsteps had them both tensing. Kyle immediately pushed her behind him and got to his feet, his fists clenched. They had come maybe a half an hour ago to bring Jerry back, so it was obvious that this set of footsteps were meant for him.

"Go to the safe place."

They had both agreed that platform at the top of the stone steps that lead to the wooden door was the safest place in that cage. It allowed her to see and not be seen. And there was nothing he wanted more than to keep her away from all of this.

This time, she shook her head and didn't move. Maybe it was better since the footsteps were approaching fast and she wouldn't have time to get there.

His fists clenched beyond his control. His mind had come to associate the sound with a need to fight, even if he'd always done his best not to. But now, with Kay there, he felt the danger tenfold. If they came anywhere near her...

Three men appeared before the bars, one of the holding a shotgun pointed. One of the other two, held a pair of handcuffs. Kyle tried not to roll his eyes. Why were they still trying that when they knew he could break them if necessary? But the shotgun was a real problem, so he stepped back when they told him to and let them cuff him.

The moment his wrists were encased, he felt a sting on his skin. Like in a dream, he remembered the spiked cuffs they'd used on Jimmy in Chambord and registered that they were the same model. Not an improvement.

"Where are you taking him?" Kay asked, her voice filled with venom.

"None of your business," the man with the shotgun growled. "Just stay in here."

"I will not jus--"

"Kay!"

She froze half-way up, her eyes wide and fearful. Yes, he'd sounded harsh, but arguing with the goons was not the best idea.

"Remember what Christine said." Even if he tried to subdue it, his voice still came out like a growl as the serum tried to take over and protect its host body.

Kay sank back into the floor with a tiny nod and hugged her knees, letting the men close the gate without further protest. The goons themselves gave him a wide berth as they ordered him forward.

Kyle shut his eyes and obeyed, trying to drive the distructive force inside him back, but his mind kept envisioning the very real possibility of breaking the chain between the cuffs, grabbing the shotgun and leaving all three men dead on the floor. How long would it take him to free the others afterwards? Would he have time to get everyone out before they got overwhelmed? And Kay... She was the only reason he could control himself. Because if he started something and she got caught in the crossfire, he'd never forgive himself.

Caught in his thoughts as he was, he only became aware something was different the moment the goon with the shotgun nudged him to climb a set of stairs instead of leading him towards the torture rooms. Maybe he was taking him to the others for a meal. But higher they went instead, down a much shorter, warmer corridor which made it clear they were out of the dungeons.

In no time at all, he was pushed through a door and ended up facing Snitch Gravel. His vision tunneled for a moment, then his eyes took in the room, trying to pinpoint every piece of furniture he could use as a weapon. The decorative katanas on the wall showed great potential.

"Don't get too excited," Snitch Gravel said. "You know you won't do it. Too much is at stake."

Kyle turned to him, glaring holes into the too familiar face. "Why am I here?"

"Sit."

Even if he didn't want to, he complied. His body shook with rage, with the need to attack the enemy, to do something about their predicament. Waiting wasn't for him. The mere act of sitting while Snitch Gravel stood hurt. He tried to focus on the open window and the dying light beyond it. It didn't help.

"So, tell me--"

"You're afraid of us."

"What?"

Kyle drew his eyes away from the window and focused on the man before him. There was a frown on his face which proved he didn't like being interrupted and was even less fond of what he'd heard.

"You're keeping us separated, barely giving us any food, just to make sure we don't fight back."

"I'd be insane to do it any other way. Do you think I have no idea what you're capable of?"

"You have an army here anyway. What difference does it make?"

"All the difference in the world." Snitch Gravel shook his head as if disappointed. "I honestly expected more from you. You're a really bad mouse."

The words managed to relight the fire Kyle had worked so hard to put out. He locked his jaw, refusing to be a damn mouse, to play into his hands. Snitch Gravel must've taken his silence for submission, because he grinned. It only added to the anger slowly smothering Kyle.

"What did you figure out about what the Agency wants?"

Snitch Gravel's voice sounded distorted in his ears. Kyle didn't care about the fucking Agency. Not now when their lives were in Snitch Gravel's hands. Being caught in the middle was something he was familiar with, but that didn't mean he actually wanted it to keep happening.

Think of Kay. You can't go all crazy.

But it was the thought of Kay that was riling him up even more. Because of this asshole, they were in this situation. It was him who'd placed the constant fear behind her eyes. And it made everything but the need to tear him to pieces seem very unimportant.

"I know my men didn't cut out your tongue, so answer me." Snitch Gravel asked, impatience streaking his voice.

Kyle looked beyond him, at the thunderclouds gathering outside the window, focusing on the breeze filled with electricity.

"Do you think playing hard to get will win you any points?" Snitch Gravel propped his palms on his desk and leaned forward. "I know one of you brats figured something out, and I know it's not Jerry or Sam. Now who could it be?" 

Kyle still didn't answer, the question barely registering. He was vaguely aware that it kept Sam and Jerry safe, that maybe this was the reason Tom and Angie were nearly killed-- And that was when he snapped.

"I'm not telling you shit. Fuck off and either let me go or take me back to my cage."

Snitch Gravel pulled back as if the lightning bolts from outside had shocked him. "Excuse me?"

Why was he so surprised? Couldn't he read the damn room?

"In case you haven't noticed, you having answers I might want is the only reason you're not dead." Snitch Gravel seemed to have pulled himself together, anger now lacing his words.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm way past giving a fuck." Because he'd accepted it. It was them against the world and all that was left was to figure out how to disappear off the map.

"You do know something."

"Like I'm going to tell you."

"You should reconsider."

He should reconsider. Kyle had had it. With a brusque movement, he tore the chain between his cuffs. The sharp edges dug into his skin and blood trickled down his wrists, but he could barely feel it. In a flash, he stood and kicked his heel to the edge of the chair, caught it as it tilted and flung it towards Snitch Gravel's head.

He ducked and the chair smashed through the window and disappeared into the stormy night. Wind sent the papers on the desk flying around them. The following second, the door burst open and the small space filled with men pointing every weapon imaginable at him.

The adrenaline inside him demanded more, that he attack the group and count how many he could bring down before they shot him. But he knew he couldn't let that happen. If they killed him, who would look after Kay?

As much as it cost him, he forced the adrenaline and the murderous energy that came with it down and settled for grinning and raising his hands. It wasn't in surrender. Just a temporal ceasefire, and everyone around him seemed to guess that, because none dared approach. 

"Boss?" one of the men grunted, not daring to take his eyes off from Kyle and look to his boss.

"Oh, you're going to regret this," Snitch Gravel said, the threat in his voice very real. "Take him back to his cell."

"Sure," Kyle said over his shoulder. "Just don't forget who the cat really is in this game of yours."

 Someone should remind him from time to time.

🏯🏯🏯

First off, a very Merry Christmas! The fact that update day fell on Christmas day means there's no need for a pesky Christmas update. So you just get one chapter. No present this year. Muawaahahahaha!

I enjoy torturing my characters too much. And you did need to see Jerry again. Poor Sarah is so confused about everything.

And yes, Kyle definitely lost his shit. He's definitely not meant to be sitting around. But now he ticked off Snitch Gravel which is NEVER a good idea. Needless to say, drama will ensue. But until then... Let's see what the potential rescuers are up to.

Don't forget to vote and comment. And another Happy Holidays of any kind!