Stefan parked outside the main entrance. The foyer with the abandoned, swampy atmosphere greeted them – maybe that was what had inspired the marsh in The Arena.

Stefan and Aimee rode the elevator to the eleventh floor, and she asked him whether there was time to train with the RDAs. There always was; Stefan only booked The Arena two hours after school's cessation, in case Aimee needed to recuperate.

They moseyed into the Ranking Room and found Dominick stationed at his weights, as usual – he was rarely seen anywhere else. Valerie and Finn were engaging in one-on-one combat, but Finn appeared to be more focused than Valerie. Aimee wondered if their arrival had distracted her, but she soon realised that it was Dominick's biceps that had stolen her concentration. Out of the corner of her eye, Valerie saw Finn's fist come up to her cheek, and somehow she was fast enough to evade it. Her speed was almost supernatural. Stefan was right; the twins were spectacular.

Dominick dropped his weights and ambled towards Aimee and Stefan, biting his lip to recall something important.

"Aimee, Gavin told me to tell you he is with your parents in the firearms room downstairs."

"Awesome," Stefan beamed at him and Aimee, but she was more worried than anything.

Aimee was proud of her parents, truly, but she highly doubted they could even hold a gun, yet alone fire one. Then again, she was no better. She shook her head, shook away whatever thoughts she might have had that could bring her down before they could enter her mind.

"You want another go at those weights?" Dominick asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded naturally.

He looked surprised as he chuckled, "Alright then!"

That day, Dominick taught Aimee how to pick up and hold weights without spraining anything. He even taught her how to manage holding weights with her cast. Her ability to do that somewhat flawlessly amazed him.

"You sure it's not painful at all?" he queried, slightly concerned, but there was still a mischievous smile on his face.

She smiled back, "It feels fine."

Wordlessly, Dominick walked her over to another pair of weights, which he then swapped with Aimee's. "I have to admit, I lied; these are the lightest weights."

Aimee breathed in her disbelief, as Stefan took an antagonised step forward.

"Dom, I said to go easy on her!"

"Hey, she didn't get hurt. She said so herself. So, if you're done whining..." He held out a pair of weights for Aimee, heavier than the first.

She proceeded towards him with caution. It took her a while to get accustomed to them, but she never struggled or gave up. In some strange way, she felt better lifting weights, more able. She did not feel like her wrist was in a cast, or like her side had been branded by a bullet.

Just as Aimee had gotten used to the weights, Gavin walked in. Was he not supposed to be with Molly and Cliff? Aimee hardly noticed how mad he was, even though he was running towards them with eyes of fire. Stefan's heart fell into his stomach as the sense of déjà vu overtook him. Strike two.

"Are the two of you brainless?!" he barked at Dom and Stefan, without looking at them.

He headed straight for Aimee and pulled the weights from her hands and put them away. Swiftly, he came back to her and held her hands tenderly in his.

"Are you okay?" he asked lightly. The fire in his eyes had settled considerably, now his eyes were pure and caring, innocent.

"I'm fine, really," she muttered under her breath.

His rapidly changing emotions confused her, and he was still holding her hands. A part of her would not think anything of it, but in combination with his mint green eyes, he trapped her like the bars of an inescapable cage. Suddenly, they were on her waist, and then slipping her top higher.

"Dude," uttered Dominick, yet it sounded like a question.

"What are you doing?" asked Stefan, red with the rage he failed to hide.

He had never been mad at Gavin, not ever. It was natural to be, under the circumstances, but he did not feel natural. He felt like Hulking out on the guy!

"I'm just inspecting her wound," Gavin explained, undoing her bandages.

Her wound was nothing but a scar. Was it normal for it to heal so quickly? Gavin looked at it as if it had sprouted a tail, unsure whether its prompt regeneration was anything to ignore. When Stefan looked at it, he saw a pink birthmark-like scar. He could not make a comparison between that moment and when it had been fresh, but it still concerned him.

"She's fine," he uttered. "You of all people should know that if something happens to her, I'll be right there with her."

Aimee fixed her shirt, and Gavin straightened up, with the bandages in his hand, and stepped up to Stefan. He was angry again, not as angry as he had been when he came in, but that day there was something about Stefan that ticked him off. He poked his chest and kept his finger there.

"If you're willing to put her in harm's way just so that you can be her 'hero', then you and Buckley aren't that different after all."

He left, slamming the door on his way out. He was too frustrated to be thwarted by his guilt. Could he really care more about Aimee than her own boyfriend, his own best friend, did? Was he the only one who gave a damn?

Stefan stared into a void, his eyes wide with shock and heartache. He felt his stomach shrivel up, his chest clench, like he the air had been shot out of his lungs. He could not be indignant; Gavin always made a point. No, to be selfish may not have been Stefan's intention, but he had a little devil on his shoulder, telling him that no matter how hard he tried to be the polar opposite of his father, he was not. Dominick put his hand where that devil used to be, and Valerie and Finn had overheard the quarrel. Their expressions were the same – shocked and sympathetic and trying to say "He didn't mean it."

"Am I really like h–?"

"Don't even say it," remarked Aimee, and she hugged him. "You know you're not. You did nothing wrong." Her voice was a mumble into his shirt.

They had an audience. RDAs had been watching them for a while, unnoticed. Eventually, the two separated from each other, and Aimee held Stefan's hands, looked deeply into his eyes.

"Do you want to go home?" she queried. "We don't have to train in The Arena today."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure," she smiled.

He contemplated the idea for a while. No, that would be selfish again. Aimee had to train, he thought, but he was so flummoxed. Was it wrong to keep her from training, or to let her train?

"You decide," he said, cutting the pity party short. "I'm fine. Don't stop on my account."

She nodded and made up her mind. She wanted to train. "Valerie, Finn, you guys wanna race me on the Monkey Wall?"

Finn made it to the top first, and rubbed it in his sister's face, jumping up and down on the victor's platform. He was far more competitive than Valerie was. She and Aimee were sucked to the Wall, just above the halfway ribbon before being holstered down.

"You cheated!" Valerie indicted.

"I can't cheat wall climbing!" he argued.

"Clearly, you found a way!"

Meanwhile, Aimee ran up to Stefan, who had been watching them from close by. She panted, "That was fun."

The twins stopped their dispute and smiled at her remark. Stefan was especially glad to hear her use those words; found her optimism and dedication to be supremely attractive.

"You did well, Aimee," remarked Valerie, her brother agreeing with a nod once she had coerced him to with her death glare.

Aimee was ready to give the weights another try, but before she could, Stefan reminded her that they had to get to The Arena. Their two hours were not up, but Aimee decided, by the look on Stefan's face, that he just did not want to be in the Ranking Room any longer, that Gavin's words continued to ring in his eardrums. She complied, said goodbye to everyone.

In The Arena, they encountered both Leo and Gavin, and Stefan taught Aimee to kill the clones on sight. It was a difficult practice, but she had to learn that they were not real, that she could not hesitate. She faltered each time she had to pull the trigger, but Stefan knew that she would improve, and so did she – she showed grit in every endeavour.

On Saturday, they returned to GINM with hours of time to be in The Ranking Room and The Arena. Aimee spent twenty minutes lifting weights, before Valerie convinced her to give the Cerebral Simulator another go. She was getting better at that, too, even though the scenarios were getting worse. That time, she faced a six-year-old copy of herself, doing homework at her bedroom desk in the old house in Lille. Abba was helping her with her maths. They looked happy and normal, and it broke her.

"Aimee, don't trust her. She's not real. She's evil and she hates you and she'll ruin you!" she yelled, but she did not know whether she was talking to herself, or to the little girl, who was also herself.

She came out of the simulation without a scream, but her heart was racing and her eyes watered.

"You okay?" Stefan would always ask.

And then, they went to The Arena – not much had changed there, except that it actually rained. Aimee and Stefan endured their training until about five in the afternoon, and then he drove her home, before retreating to his.

That evening, alone at the dining table, Stefan decided to pray. He prayed that Aimee would keep trying her hardest, no matter what. He trusted that she was stronger than any memory or vicious scene she was tossed into. And if she wasn't, he knew that she could be.