Dead.

He was most certainly dead. It had looked at first like a quite familiar scene; a passed out ne'er do well face down just outside his favorite bar; the Judge usually just gave them a kick and sent them homeward... This one didn't respond to the kick... In fact, he was a little stiff.

A quick examination found results less than typical for alcohol poisoning or anything along those lines... This was a young man, not a transient, or someone seemingly down on their luck... He didn't smell of hard alcohol... beer perhaps, but it was damned near impossible for someone his age to die of alcohol poisoning from beer alone... Another good sign was the fact that he had something clenched in his hand... He'd died rather quick; That would seem rather normal if he had some sort of wound, but the Judge saw nothing... Odd...


An armored hand reached out to try and yank what ever the young man had in his hand from its paling grasp.

Ca-chunk! "Greg, we got the mutts under control, get your a** in h-" The voice stopped short as the Judge stood and stared at it's point of origin... Mutts... A popular slang for mutants... Or just a cross breed of K-9. He wondered which the man referred to... An obvious knife wound to the man's side drew the vigilante's attention as well.

"I think we need to have a little talk."

"N-no- that's al-"
"I insist... I am investigating a murder, after all... "
"Wh-what?"
"Is that Greg?"

The wounded man's eyes wandered to the now rather obviously dead body... "... Greg's dead?"

"Greg's dead." The man seemed distressed... Because of the stab wound, or the death of someone he was apparently familiar with? "What killed him?"

"I don't know s^@#, man." It was said with maybe a littel too much defiance... Come to think of it, the man was looking at him a little funny. "That is apparent... What killed him?"

"I said I don't know- I mean... Maybe... Um... Maybe if we go inside, we can ask the people in there." The man looked about nervously, and then stepped to the side, as if insisting the Judge went first... Well, that wasn't suspicious at all... Still, he stepped in just as well; call it hubris.

Upon walking into the room, he was greeted with a sight that surprised even him; On the floor was a very, very beat up form that he was almost sure he was familiar with, and standing around were two very surprised men... He felt a quick movement behind him; James had come up with the great idea of beating the vigilante mutant over the head with a pool cue. More on that, later.

The voices around here were gradually growing more and more distant. Fading; muting. She attempted to move a few times, but was hindered by her body protesting, and the cheerful fellows watching over her. Laughter; they were laughing. Giggling like schoolgirls over her condition. Megan shook her head, trying in vain to clear her ears out, but still somehow managed to catch the repeated, amused, usage of 'Mutt'.

If this were... if this were that dream, you'd all be dead already. She mused to herself, unable to form the actual words with her lips. If this were that dream, you'd be six feet under and... and Allison would be.. would be safe. Another slow head shake sent the world spinning on her, and she flopped over onto her right side. The fuzzy images she was getting shifted and she struggled to understand why through the haze occupying her mind.

If she could just get a leg under her, she'd be up on her feet in no time...

The twenty six year old struggled with one arm to push herself up, but barely even budged from her spot on the floor. It was a rather pitiful attempt, but she wasn't really able to focus on that. The dark fuzzy edge that had been steadily creeping into her vision was threatening to overtake her completely, and she couldn't hear much anymore. Murmured words that she couldn't understand... She didn't even notice when James returned with someone new; someone who was obviously not Greg...

The others in the room did, though. They all recognized the man instantly, and a shocked, nervous silence followed. The Judge had just walked in the back door-- a mutant who was both powerful and not ashamed to flaunt it, given all of the publicity that followed him-- and they were literally standing with a beaten, bloody mutant woman at their feet. A few glances were shared, and then James was on the move.

... Perhaps a little prematurely, though.

The pool cue snapped clean in half, and the others jumped into action. A bat was raised, and Megan's own knife was palmed as the two who'd taken care of her prepared to launch an attack on the Judge.

Allison did not like being ignored. An exhale rumbled; something that, with more volume and form, might have been a growl, and she tried again to twist up and kick one of the men holding her, but they hadn’t fallen into her reach, and her adrenaline was draining away and limiting her, and this time neither of them even bothered to brush her away. And she was only angry because she didn’t like being ignored and talked about, or insulted, and her attempts to twist her arms away even though she knew they would fail were only because she was angry. They did fail, predictably; the guy standing on her arm put more weight on it; Allison held back as much of the whimper as she could and stayed still. That meant she had nothing to do but listen, and stare up at (apparently) Daniel, and hope he got around to looking at her. And she only looked scared to manipulate him, not because she actually was at all. And she only felt sick because her muscles were tense because she was angry and fighting and she was not scared because there was nothing to be scared of because nothing would happen.

“Let go!” Delusion had limits, and by the time Allison heard someone ordering others to strip her, any consideration of whether she was scared or not was drowned completely out by trying to get away. That just got her kicked in the side by not-Daniel, and pulled to her feet while she gasped at that.

The two tried taking advantage of that to switch Allison to just one’s hold, but her mind wasn’t quite as out of it as her body was; she did manage to twist her right arm free and go for the knife she had left. It was on her left, though, and her pants weren’t particularly loose; it would have taken many times the seconds she had to actually get it out, and instead she ended up with both her arms twisted up behind her, legs kicked out from under her so she was kneeling, knees pulsing from hitting the floor and leaning forward, trying to make the twisting and pulling in her shoulders less. It didn’t work.

Allison wasn’t facing the right way to see what was happening to Megan; even if she had been, all she could really see was her own hair. The two with her could, though, and paid attention; Allison had a second to get her breath back and the spots out of her eyes, then tried to twist her arms out of the man’s grip again. She got them to move, but then he grunted and they were twisted farther, and another kick hit her. It must have been from an awkward angle, it wasn’t as painful as the last.

Attention was back on her, though, and as soon as her arms were pinned again the one holding her suggested finding out what she’d been reaching for. Allison was focused on the way her shoulders were screaming at her, and didn’t pay enough attention to the order until she noticed hands on her; in her pockets, technically, but she knew there was nothing in them after they’d gotten the knife out, and her pants fit well enough that that should have been blatantly obvious. She tried to sit up, or get away; she wasn’t sure if her attempt was even noticed, but she couldn’t move. “Stop it!”

Stephan’s attention was back on them. “Why is it still here? I said storage.”

The hands finally left as one of the men held the knife up. “She had this in her pocket.”

“Really.” Stephan walked over as the door closed behind James. He accepted the knife, examined it, and flipped it open. “Hmph. Beasts can’t even pick a decent knife. It’ll still cut, though.” The knife snapped closed. “We’ll deal with that soon. Get it to storage.”

Allison cried when the pain in her shoulders abruptly increased; she’d struggled to her feet and was stumbling forwards before she realized that meant she was cooperating, or anything other than less pain. She hesitated, was kicked, and learned that whoever was holding her was perfectly capable of pushing her whether she walked or not.

The door from the room led to a small hallway with three doors; the first hung open, into an office. Storage was the next door, a smallish room with walls lined with shelves half covered in boxes. There were hands on her again, but not for as long; Allison noticed her pants were missing when she fell and her legs and palms scraped on cement. It took another moment to realize her hands were loose again.

She pushed herself up, and as soon as she reached her hands and knees a kick hit her side and knocked her back over. She might have screamed, but her ears were ringing too much to tell. Why they’d bothered to knock her over she wasn’t sure; they just pulled her back up to her knees, and then backwards, so she was too busy struggling with her balance and the flexibility she did not have to stop them from pulling her jacket and shirt off, and tossing both to the side of the room.

By the time Stephan arrived, they’d finished stripping her, and pinned her on the ground again, one holding each arm. Not-Daniel was standing on her wrist again; Daniel had started to use his hands to hold her, then followed not-Daniel’s lead and stood. Allison was glad for that; she couldn’t stop herself from shaking anymore, and not-Daniel had been taunting her enough for crying.

Stephan paused in the doorway, surveying the room and smirking before continuing in, followed by two other men. He was toying with Allison’s knife and Megan’s taser, shifting both back and forth between his hands. He stood back, continuing to smirk and toy with the weapons as one of the other men walked over and shoved Allison’s side with his toe. “Maybe we should’ve kept the other instead. This one’s tiny.”

“She’ll grow. It’s too late for the other, anyway.” Stephan sounded amused, if anything; he was smiling down at Allison the way she’d smile at little kids, but without any affection. “Now….” He trailed off, stepped into the room, and closed the door before continuing. “The others will join us soon. In the meantime….” He trailed off again, took a step over, and kicked Allison’s legs. She gasped and tried to pull them away. “You. You killed my men. Mutts,” the taser pressed into her side and she screamed, “don’t get to do that. Do you understand?”

Allison tried to gasp for breath, and ended up sobbing. Another kick landed on her before she managed to answer. “Yes!”

The taser dug into her skin again; a slightly different point, she thought, but it didn’t make any difference for the pain. “Mutts don’t get to disobey. Do you understand?”

The answer didn’t come any faster this time, and she was kicked twice before she managed to respond. Her throat hurt. “Yes.”

“Mutts should be grateful and enthusiastic to get proper training.”

“Yes.”

The taser pressed into her throat this time. That did make a difference in the pain. “Mutts should be grateful and enthusiastic to get proper training.”

It hurt to answer, and it hurt more to answer the way he wanted. It hurt even more not to. “Yes!”

A spot of pressure, fire, and speech; Allison started answering before she sorted out what the orders were.

“Mutts should respect their superiors.”

“Yes!”

“Mutts should be grateful that anyone is willing to take them in.”

“Yes!”

“Mutts should please their masters.”

“Yes!”

It took a minute for Allison to realize that the taser and the orders had stopped. She was still sobbing, and her mind felt like it was drowning; she couldn’t seem to hear or see properly, or think. She was pretty willing to go along with not hearing or seeing, actually; she only opened her eyes and fought her way back to something like full awareness when she felt a hand on her stomach, pressing into some of the burns.

It was Stephan, predictably, smiling down at them; he caught Allison’s eyes and smiled wider. “I think… you’ll take a lot of work to be worth anything. But I think I know how you can please us in the meantime.” He glanced around, then stood up, still smiling at her. “Daniel. You can go first.”

Daniel’s boot pressed harder on Allison’s arm for a second as he jumped. “I--uh--”

Stephan’s smile moved to Daniel, but it didn’t change at all. “You can go first.” His eyes flicked down to where Daniel was standing, then to Allison. “Don’t move.”

Daniel hesitated a moment longer before stepping off of Allison’s arm. Both of them obeyed Stephan. Daniel didn’t seem to mind very much. Allison didn’t stop crying.

The Judge was in a room full of dead and disabled men.

How had it happened?

Great detail could be given, with colorful embellishment and gory details, but that would just be showboating.

Suffice it to say that James was out; he had half of a pool cue sticking out of each side; He was breathing... Barely. The man with the bat was dead. He was the only one who was clearly, very dead. Apparently he could dish it out, but he couldn't take it, because it only took one good swing... The Judge wasn't the type to admit he might have cheated by adding enough energy to knock out an elephant.

He stepped over the baseball man's mess to stare down at the last man, whimpering and clutching a very broken leg. "I'll be back for you in a second. If you pray... You should start."

He then turned and walked toward the slumped woman on the floor... His heart fluttered as a strong sense of dejavu fell upon it, and nearly caused the man in metal to stumble. He stopped before her, and crouched down... She was breathing this time. Barely.

She needed a doctor... Maybe even a mutant healer. Now. He stood to head toward the phone, but something... odd caught his attention... Something... Empty, off to his left. It was like a whole part of him was missing on that side; it was hard to explain. He turned, and the sensation stayed fixed; it was a perfect bubble of area that he could not feel.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped forward toward it. The next thing he knew he was on his knees.

Something was wrong! Something was very, very wrong! His skin crawled as all of the stored energy in him vented into the ground, cracking the bar room floor. He felt nothing. His sixth sense was gone; there was nothing around him; NOTHING. That thought was proven wrong when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back; the broken leg man had seen his moment of weakness, and lunged forward to slash at his back.

"AAAAGH!" He jumped to his feet and spun quickly, grabbing the baseball bat from the corner of the bar, and swinging it with all of his strength at the foolishly triumphant looking gentleman's head.

THOCK!

He was out... He'd swung a bat with both hands, and it actually hit hard... The panting vigilante looked down at his right hand as if it were alien. It felt.. strong... Like it could make an impact... The shock factor wore off quick, and his back reminded him it had a fairly deep laceration running across it. He gasped in pain, and stumbled forward. No... No, he was the Judge. He had no time for pain. Think. Think, Judge, think!

The man had mentioned Mutts... That meant more than one... Megan was not the only mutant here. There was someone else who needed his help. He stumbled clumsily toward the last rooms, only pausing when he saw something very useful looking behind the bar...

This would probably the the first, and only time the Judge would be seen clutching a double barrel shotgun.

There was only one unopened door. He kicked it open, aimed at the first threatening looking person, and pulled both triggers.

Allison was smart. Whatever else she might be, and whatever else anyone might call her, she knew that. She was good at learning. She might not always obey what she learned, but she did learn. And right now she was obeying. Stephan even noticed; he patted her on the head before he stood up. Good girl.

Allison had never been called good girl before, that she remembered. Girl, certainly, and she'd been told she was good, but that particular combination of words had never been applied to her before, the way they were applied to pets and children too young to know to object. Even when she'd been a child, her parents had objected for her; they hadn't wanted her learning she was inferior to anyone, so she'd been a nice or smart or pretty young lady instead. Never good girl.

Allison didn't like being a good girl. But being a bad girl hurt too much.

Allison wasn't sure when she'd closed her eyes; she wasn't aware she had. They snapped open anyway at two loud bangs, and she gasped when one of the men--not Daniel, Robert she thought, the other one who'd held her down at first--fell on her. That knocked the wind out of her, and she had to gasp for a minute and wipe tears out of her eyes before she could see. She still didn't dare try to move away.

...That man looked... odd. And angry. Allison was vaguely aware that he could be mad for her instead of at her, but she still cringed away, as much as she could while pinned beneath a corpse and too scared to move. So it was really more of a sustained flinch.

Stephan was significantly more reactive. He, and the remaining three other men in the room, rounded on the Judge. "Who are you? What do you think you're doing?"

"Who cares who he is, he just killed Robert! Kill him!" someone added. Allison kept her eyes on Stephan and the Judge; they were the dangerous ones.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" They were talking... It was shocking how stupid they were... A man just burst into the room, made a mess of the nearest standing person, and the ring leader's best call was to request an introduction.

There would be no introductions.

It only took one glance to find out what had been happening in this room. With that one glance all reason was overshadowed by rage. Someone had needed him, and he hadn't been fast enough. These men-no, they were no longer men; they were parasites to be disposed of- They were going to die.

"Who cares who he is, he just killed Robert! Kill him!"

CRACK! The man was half way through his step forward to engage when the stock of a shotgun swung around and dislocated his jaw. He didn't need his powers to kill these petty f$^#s. A real man didn't need powers, or numbers, or a weak opponent. One of them was approaching from behind; How did he know this? They always did, that's why. He spun around and swung at leg level, hearing an agonized scream as he bent a leg in sideways with the brutish blow. A scream of unbridled rage forced the next one to approach to hesitate; This hesitation meant his death, as the butt of the rifle cracked straight down into his skull. He stood for a moment, not sure how dead he was until he fell.

One was in pain, he tried to stand, but was kicked over. The Judge stepped on his throat with a metal sole, and stood there as he stared intently at the one in charge.

Stephen wasn't stupid. He'd been securing a weapon; A .22 revolver hidden behind a box of sponges. It was a small weapon, but the man knew that enough bullets center mass stopped most people dead in their tracks.

"You're some kinda freak, I'll give you that, but it's over. You die, and I get my way. That's how this ends... F#%^in Mutt..." With that, he aimed and pulled the trigger over and over again.

By the time the six shots were spent, the Judge was still standing. The man under his foot was dead; his throat finally crushed enough not to do it's job. He walked forward slowly, his eyes locked onto the man. Stephen pulled the trigger again, taking a step back. All he got was a click. He pulled it again, his mouth hanging open in desperate shock. Mutant powers didn't work around him! They never did! Why wasn't this man dead?!

The Judge was close, now. Stephen had run out of room to step back. The Judge lurched forward, and shoved the shotgun barrel into the man's open mouth, knocking out some teeth in the process. He then pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until the man stopped struggling, and perhaps ten minutes afterward.

Slowly, the haze faded away. He stared at the dead man at the end of the shotgun barrel, supported only by his strength until the scene made sense. He let the gun go, and they both fell to the floor. A glance down to his chest told him he'd definitely been shot. A wheeze told him a lung was punctured. Surprisingly enough, he couldn't give a shit. He had two.

He turned slowly to see if the woman on the ground was still there, uttering in a gasping breath. "You're not okay... I'm sorry. I failed you."

He then turned, and stumbled toward the door. "I'm... Going to call an ambulance for you... Your friend..." He coughed, tasting copper. "She needs a healer... I'll be taking her..."

It took much longer than it should have for Allison to get some idea of what was going on; she was watching, eyes flicking between the different men, trying to keep track of it all and still too scared to think enough to understand. Once she did, she kept her eyes on the new man; two of Stephan's men were down (plus the corpse already on Allison), and she saw the last of Stephan's men be killed. Or second to last; she recognized Daniel struggling as the new man stepped on him, flinched and looked away.

Her eyes snapped back at the gunshots, and then she forced them away again. There wasn't any way the new guy was winning after being shot; hopefully he'd just be killed, and then... then Stephan would be mad. Allison didn't think she'd done anything, but it would probably be her fault anyway. At least there weren't as many of them now....

Allison didn't look again until she realized someone was talking to her, still stuck on the floor beneath (Robert's) the corpse, and too scared of disobeying to move. When she did, she was back to being unable to understand what she saw for a minute; the new guy was bleeding--badly--but he was standing, and Stephan was... not. Allison stared between them, ignoring the man's words while she tried to understand. It looked like Stephan was dead, but--but he'd had a gun. She'd heard him shoot, it didn't make sense.

"What?" Allison's brain managed to catch a few words as the man left. I'll be taking her. "No! Wait!" Her voice was hoarse, and quiet; like some of it had gotten lost somewhere. Disobeying still scared her, but she struggled free anyway, shoved the corpse off of her, and backed away.

It... hurt. Moving hurt. And she was shaking, and clumsy; she wasn't sure if it was worse to move than to stay still, or if she was crying or just had been and her face was still wet. She tried rubbing the tears away, but she didn't dare close her eyes, so she could only brush them off of her cheeks, and they mostly smeared anyway.

She couldn't stay. She couldn't--couldn't deal with this room, and she had to get to Megan. But--leaving was--she was still naked, and covered in blood and--other things, she didn't even know, but--Megan. Allison took another frantic glance around the room, and shied around the bodies to pull on her pants and shirt--she couldn't make herself wear more, or touch more, though she picked up her jacket. The shirt would protect it from the blood, so--

One of the men--the one who'd been hit in the jaw--moved. Allison ran.

It was... strange. A calm washed over her. She had long since closed her eyes, the darkness has blotted out her vision anyway, and there was an slow, gentle thump-thumping in her ears. Muted and rhythmic like a lullaby, lulling her closer and closer to sleep.

It was the most frightening and peaceful thing she had ever experienced. There was a distant, far away pain... constantly humming a warning from somewhere behind all that black. She didn't feel bothered to search for it, though. It was easier, better, to just float along. Where to? She didn't know. There was no knowing.

Megan just wanted to sleep... she just wanted to let the cold overwhelm and enclose her. Thump-thump... thump-thump... the drums of a war she didn't have to fight any longer.

Just... peace.

She was worse off than he'd thought at first... They would be cutting it close. Blood dripped from the bottom of his mask as he leaned down to grab her arm, and found he barely hand the strength to move it... He was dizzy.

Well damn.

He very nearly fell right forward onto her, righting himself just before he pitched forward. No leaning... He would have to crouch... Lift with his legs... Yeah, that was how you were supposed to lift things anyway, right? He crouched, and fell right onto his ass, coughing up some more blood in the process. A hand reached out and grasped her arm, pulling it over his shoulder slowly as he righted himself to a crouching position once more.

"C'mon... Not lettin you get away this time... Never again."

If he even survived... The world felt a little more distant than normal. He felt something... Someone running. The woman in the storage room? What the hell? Why was she running?

Not far behind her, the reason why became clear. A man stumbled through the back room door, his jaw hanging uselessly, a loaded double barrel shotgun in his hands.

"THUCHEN THREAKS!" He aimed his gun at the fleeing girl, and pulled the trigger. The Judge was in the way before it happened; He refused to let his failing body prevent him from saving her. BLAM! Both barrels went off...


And then nothing happened. 18 inches from the Judge, a shower of pellets hung in the air, and then fell to the ground... The giant metal man rushed forward, grabbing the loose jawed man by the face, and slamming his head into the wall with enough force to flatten it. He then started punching what was left, letting adrenaline and rage fuel his actions for god knows how long... How many punches.

By the time he looked back, the girl, and Megan were both gone.

Allison wasn't entirely sure who the new (and apparently insane) man was, but as long as he and the other were distracting each other, she didn't care. She had to pull her jacket on--it wasn't as bad as the shirt, it turned out--before trying to pick Megan up.

That was difficult. Megan was heavy, and Allison wasn't particularly strong; she managed to pick Megan up, but only barely. Walking was difficult; really more a process of staggering than anything else, but that was okay. It was a lot easier to focus on her muscles hurting because she really wasn't strong enough for this and on making them work anyway than to focus on hurting for other reasons.

She only got about half a block away before jumping and almost falling at a shout. "Hey! Aren't you from Sanctuary?"

Alli turned. It took a second to recognize Alex, which it really shouldn't have, considering there were about twenty squirrels on and around him. She hesitated; she might know that he probably wasn't dangerous, but that didn't stop her emotions from dragging up more energy to panic at him. She kicked them away as quickly as she could. "Yes! We need to get back, can you help us?"

"Huh?" Alex did start herding squirrels across the street, thankfully, only to stop halfway there. "What happened to her?"

"It doesn't matter--" It did, it so much did, but Allison wasn't able to talk about it. "--it's too long, we need to go."

"Oh. Right!" Alex hurried the rest of the way over, and they managed somehow to get Megan carried between them. Several squirrels were shooed off of perching on Megan and Allison, and they began moving; not much faster than Allison had been going by herself, but slightly, and it was easier.

Alex made it about five steps before talking again. "Seriously, what happened?"

Allison would have groaned, if she'd had the energy. "Not now."

"Sorry."

How far was it to Sanctuary? Ten blocks, maybe? Allison really hoped they made it.

"Sorry."

ZZZZZZWHIP!ZWHIP!

The word was barely completed before two shapes whizzed up

"wecameassoonasweheard"

"Yeahyeahyeah"

"Bossmansayswegottahelpyou-woayourhurthuh."

"Yupwegottahelpyou-weshouldtakeyoutothesanc."

"I'mTimandthisisJim"

"YeahI'mJim,notTim,I'mthecoolone"

They were twins, and they were fast. They also talked fast. It was annoying. They didn't hesitate to grab onto the group of three and start moving... Very, very fast.

-------

Roach was in a panic. He'd sent the twins only because he was sure that his Megan had gotten herself into throuble; Once his bug saw that she was walking into a room with one of the fuzzies like Lenna in it, it reported to him as quick as it could... Ten blocks was a lot of distance to travel for a bug, though. He'd been eating when the spy had reported in.

Needless to say, he spit his marble and old shrimp stew out everywhere and immediately went about securing fast support and perhaps rescue. His little spider woman was the type to get herself broken, and he couldn't have his possessions get all ruined, could he?

He was bursting out of the sanctuary doors, a mutant healer on his heels as he went. "WHERE IS SHE? TELL ME SHE'S NOT-"

It was about then the twins showed up, with three passengers.

"Broken... Get her to the infirmary... NOW! NOW NOW NOW!" He screamed angrily as everyone around him instantly started heading toward the infirmary... The mutants around him had only ever seen him calm and calculating, so in this case when he said now, they moved.

It seemed like only seconds before everyone was inside, and if the aforementioned infirmary. Megan was instantly dragged off for intensive care. Roach sat next to the curtain, staring at the other two. One of them, he recognized, Alex... He was from around here... The other, he didn't know. Well, maybe... Nope, no recollection. "What is your name, child? Do you need healing?"

It felt like she was being woken up from a dead sleep by a root canal. The most intense, mind numbing pain racing through her body, forcing muscles to jerk and gasps she didn't know she was making to issue from her.

Her eyes shot open, lids feeling as heavy as cinder blocks, and the fuzzy, blurred shapes hunched over her. Panic was her instantaneous reaction, but she quickly found that she couldn't move her limbs. Her mind reeled while her body felt disconnected. Were those tubes sticking out of her? Why, yes they were.

Megan screamed bloody murder as a shattered rib slowly knit itself back together, and was dragged painfully into place. The sounds were a raw and honest representation of what she felt. Was this hell? Had she been abducted by aliens? The last things she could remember was staring at a floor with her hands framing her vision, as everything under her tilted and flooded red.

"Get that anesthetic over here right now! If we don't calm her down before--" She shrieked again, and finally managed to get her arms and legs to work. Her first weak attempts to push the silhouettes away from her ended up as nothing but easily contained thrashing. Then, something pokey jabbed her in the neck, a prick... and warmth flooded into her. The pain lessened slightly, she felt sleep tugging at her again, but still they continued on.

There were more broken bones to be set, more damaged organs to be fixed and fluids that needed to be removed from places they didn't rightly belong. The task at hand was sure to be a long and tiresome one...

Allison, personally, thought she'd been dealing fairly well with... being... with everything that had happened. Sure, she'd certainly prefer to curl up somewhere and cry for a few days until she woke up and it was just a dream, but that hadn't been an option, and she hadn't. Which, she thought, was more than could really be expected of her at that point. So she was doing fairly well.

Until she (and Megan and Alex) was kidnapped by what appeared to be a pair of talking blurs. Neither of which she knew. She felt perfectly justified screaming then. And being thoroughly disturbed even when it turned out they'd kidnapped her to Sanctuary. Also? Giant bug, that she distinctly remembered trying to eat her. At the Sanctuary, yelling at... Allison didn't even know, it might be her, it might not be. Either way it didn't help. Getting to the infirmary might have been good, if Allison hadn't been so freaked out and feeling out of control of everything already. As it was she barely noticed enough not to attack the healers when they pried Megan out of her hands.

And the bug. Was talking to her. That was absolutely it; Allison could not cope any more. She backed away from the bug as quickly as she could. "What are you doing here? What just happened, who are they, what are you--I'll kill you if you hurt Megan! Don't touch me!" She was crying again, though she didn't notice, and had backed herself into a wall.

Alex stared. He was a bit annoyed--his squirrels would find their way back, eventually, but it was still irritating to have lost all but one of them in the rush--but mostly he was confused. "What just happened?"

He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary with their other guests until the female freaked out... To be honest, he'd been too busy being fixated on Megan's state to pay full attention to them.

"What are you doing here? What just happened, who are they, what are you--I'll kill you if you hurt Megan! Don't touch me!"

She was certainly being a bother.

HIT HER WITH A WRENCH

No, mind, no! We do not hit guests!

He wondered what they had been through that put her in such a state; Megan was very nearly dead, so it had to be quite extreme... "I assure you I have no plans to hurt Megan." He suddenly heard screaming on the other side of the curtain.

"Let me amend that... I have no plans to hurt her in a way that won't help her; Quite the opposite, I would never harm her on purpose. Now tell me, what happ... Your shirt is ripped." He eyed her closely for a moment, and then turned quickly, ripping the curtain open next to him, revealing Megan's sorry state.

"What happened. Tell me now, Girl." He stared at Megan intently as he spoke to Allison... For a moment, he emitted a very faint sound... Was that... A whimper?

If the comments had come from anyone else, they might have calmed Allison down. But they were coming from a giant bug that had tried to eat her, so they didn't. She stared between the bug and Megan, shaking and still oblivious to the fact that she was crying. She did reach up automatically to find the rip in her shirt and lock her hand around it, as if holding it closed would make any actual difference.

What happened? Allison was--that--she couldn't answer. It wasn't that she didn't know, she did, but she just--the words wouldn't work. She couldn't make herself think them; how was she supposed to say anything? She kept staring and shaking, and dissolved further into tears as she noticed them. After a minute she slid down the wall to sit next to it, and bury her face in her arms.