Ray sat across from Frank, leaning as far across as the tabletop would allow. He kept his voice low and constant nervous glances towards the room's entrance. "Frank, something's not right. Not since..."

"I came back?" Frank finished his sentence.

Ray shook his head. "No, even before that. There are... gaps in my memory. When we went out to find you... Like, I don't even remember coming back to the base. I- I was just in my barracks."

"Did you fall asleep?" Frank asked. It was a stupid thing to ask, but he was nervous to reveal his own blanks and blocked memories.

"Do you really think your father would approve of that?" Ray snapped. He sighed, apologizing softly as he cast his gaze down to the table. He was quiet for a moment. "Your dad scares me." He finally spoke even softer than before.

"You?" Frank shook his head. "No, he actually liked you."

Ray tapped the table, biting his lip. "No, he was... He did things. Things that I think I saw but then it starts to get fuzzy."

"Like what?"

Ray glanced towards the door before inhaling a short breath. "We were at this tree. This huge tree. There was someone outside and he just... It was like he was controlling him like a puppet." He shook his head, "Maybe... or they guy was acting really weird, but it felt like your dad was giving him orders."

Frank shut his eyes at the mention of the tree. Greens and yellows filled the area behind his eyelids. He could practically smell the earth around them... How could he know what that smelled like?

"Then, the next thing I know, I was being sent out to retrieve you." Ray continued, "I don't remember anything between the tree and that... but it's like your dad's voice echoed in my head."

"Maybe it was the echo of wherever you were." Frank rubbed his palms against his eyes. There had to be an answer. There had to be something.

"Frank." Ray spoke his name in a way that made him lift his head to make eye contact. There was a stress like Frank had never seen before in Ray's expression. "I don't know what's happening, but you leaving... it changed something. About him. He was always a prick, but he wasn't trying to keep any kind of cool facade like he used to."

Frank stared back at Ray, feeling his eye start to twitch. He could almost hear something like a whisper in the back of his head, but he quickly shut his eyes and tried to shake everything away. "No... No, He had that same act when I woke up..."

"An act, Frank." Ray pressed, "You have to believe me."

Frank reopened his eyes. He felt exhausted from the short course of their conversation. His mind raced thinking over what he could remember and what Ray had shared with him. There had been something... off. He couldn't deny it. He had white spots in his memory that kept him in the dark of what had happened to him... But how could his father be pulling the strings?

Jamia strolled up to the booth, sliding beside Ray and making him slide further into the booth. "On your six." She muttered slowly, locking eyes with Frank.

Frank caught the sound of footsteps behind him. He kept his head down as voices bantered back and forth and chairs scraping against the floor. He looked between Ray and Jamia, unsure what to do or say. He didn't think he was supposed to be out of his room.

Jamia but the inside of her lip. She looked to Ray and nudged him. "You know others were brought back too, right?"

Frank lifted his head just slightly as Ray snapped his attention to Jamia. His eyes glanced past Frank before focusing back on Jamia and mouthing a question to her.

"I saw the processing papers." She whispered, "That's how I learned you were back before I got official confirmation."

"How many others?" Frank questioned quietly as the group that had occupied a table somewhere behind him burst into a loud round of laughter.

"There's conflicting numbers on the reports." Jamia frowned, "I can't be sure."

Frank dropped his gaze back to the table. There were others that were brought back with him? Had he been in contact with them? He could feel a pain building at the back of his head, threatening to linger the longer he tried to think about it. What if they had answers?

"You have to show me." Frank raised his eyes back to the two in front of him.

Ray and Jamia's eyes both widened.

"You're not even supposed to be out of your room, Frank." Ray reminded him with a harsh whisper.

"Plus, guards will have to check for our clearance." Jamia's brow furrowed, "I mean... I do have the proper credentials..."

"You're not seriously considering this, are you?" Ray's attention snapped to her, "If the Force Captain finds out-"

"All things considered, there's a good chance he won't, though." Jamia cut him off. "The Force Commander preparations are very preoccupying, not to mention all the time he's been spending in the labs since Frank was brought back."

"He's always working with the labs." Frank muttered as he rubbed his hands together nervously under the table. "That's nothing new." He could practically see a reflection of a memory on the tabletop in front of him. A low angle of being lead down one of the gray halls, keeping as much of a pace as he could with his father before finding himself sat atop an exam table. Someone in white stood in front of him, writing things down on a clipboard.

Frank shook his head, blinking rapidly as a white fog consumed the memory from the front of his mind. That...didn't feel familiar. He had been subjected to checkups before but... That felt different.

"What if someone goes to check on Frank?" Ray's question pulled Frank back into the current conversation.

"They haven't yet." Frank shrugged, raising his gaze as his brow furrowed. No one had been to his room. It had been stocked with rations and then his medication was provided through a slot in his door usually reserved for paperwork and quick supply deliveries.

"I had to get special permission just to see him." Jamia added.

Frank held his mouth shut. Was he being considered dangerous or something? Was the medication he had been given really for his own benefit, or something to keep him quiet and unquestioning of his situation? Up until today, the days had passed like a blur to the point he couldn't distinguish them. He had just existed. Then, just by missing timing on one...

Ray began massaging his temples. "How do you suggest we sneak Frank down there? Just being here is stressful enough." He made a soft gesture towards the group that was positioned at one of the tables behind Frank.

"Well..." Jamia covered her mouth with her hand, eyes downcast as she considered Ray's question. It was only a brief moment before she turned back to him. "Do you have access to maintenance uniforms?"

Ray tilted his head at her. "I'm a Squadron Leader, of course I do." A moment after the words left his mouth, his eyes widened. "Are you really-"

"Credentials escorted by two maintenance members she found along the way, just in case." She shrugged, "I've had worse ideas. Maybe the order was given for a last minute check before the Commander's arrival."

"This time of day, the suits should all be accounted for." Ray muttered, looking as if he was considering the offer. "Cleaning equipment as well. If you can guard the hallway..."

"You already know I can." Jamia smiled, "You get that, I get us in."

Frank looked between the two of them. The two people he was closest to within the walls of The Force base... and now they were risking themselves for him. He felt his heart begin to sink in his chest. "You guys... You can't get in trouble for me."

The two had been continuing their conversation with a spark of excitement, but their expressions dropped when they turned to Frank with confusion.

"Why not?" Jamia asked, "You got in trouble for me plenty when we were kids."

"And I didn't risk going out there to find you only to have you locked in your room forever." Ray tapped the table. "I miss having you by my side, soldier. I miss my friend. Not just that, it seems we both need answers. Whether I'm... Nervous of the methods or not. We need them."

Frank felt tears brimming in his eyes. He quickly swiped them away with his palms before nodding. "We're gunna get in so much trouble..."

"Not if we're careful." Jamia smiled reassuringly. "Just trust me."

"Just trust me. You have this far."

Frank shut his eyes. Like an echo to Jamia's words, the voice bounced around his head... but it wasn't Jamia's voice. It was someone else... someone it felt like he knew...

"If we're going to do this, we need to move." Ray whispered as the group behind Frank burst into a round of laughter over their conversation. "Nearest janitorial closet isn't that far off."

"Frank?" Jamia's question was soft as it reached out to him. Frank let out a short breath of air. They had to do this. He had to have answers.

Frank nodded, "Let's do this."

—-

Frank and Ray stood on either side of Jamia as they traversed down the gray halls. Frank now wore a mask over his nose and moth to further obscure him in addition to his new maintenance uniform. He carried a bottle of cleaner in his hand, as well as a bucket filled with wipes and paper towels. Ray was dressed similarly, though he was pushing a mop and wheeled bucket with him. Jamia stood tall between them, holding a clipboard to her chest as she adjusted her uniform top.

The plan seemed simple enough. Extra cleaning for the high ranking arrival was needed and Jamia would oversee it on top of trying to clarify her paperwork for review. Easy. The closer they got to their destination, however, the more Frank questioned what they would really do once they were in. If he couldn't remember the outside, what if they didn't recognize him? What if he had never even been in contact with them and they had just been rounded up for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

None of these thoughts were shared out loud, though. Frank kept quiet as the group rounded their final corner to reach the start of the prisoner block. A tall, lanky man stood guard at the barred entrance. He looked bored, not giving the group much acknowledgment as they approached. It wasn't until they stopped in front of him that he sighed and finally gave them his attention. "State your business, please."

"Official business." Jamia tapped her clipboard before using it to gesture to both men at her sides. "I have conflicting prisoner reports I need to sort for myself, and I brought these two to clean while I do it, seeing as the Force commander will be arriving shortly."

"Do you have your credentials?" The guard asked, holding out his hand.

Jamia swiftly slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small card. She placed it in his hand with an expectant look. "Does that cover it, force soldier?"

The guard gave it a brief once over before shrugging. "All cells have their access windows open to view in, but cannot be seen through by those inside." He held the card back out to her, "The more recents are further back in the blocking, as far as I know."

Jamia slid the card back into her pocket. "You've been so helpful, thank you." She turned to both Frank and Ray, giving them a nod to keep following as the guard moved to pull the bars back and allow them access to the block. The group slipped in, trying to remain casual until they could turn a corner, out of the guards sight.

All three released a sigh of relief. Frank pulled down his mask, feeling suffocated by the anxiety of the brief interaction. He had kept his head down the entire time, barely able to fight himself from holding his breath. Just trying to breathe and be casual had felt like an impossible task in the moment.

"I can't believe we pulled that off." Ray gasped as he leaned against the wall opposite Frank. His knuckles were white where he gripped the mop handle.

Jamia stood in the middle of the hall. Her breaths were just as labored as the others, but a small smile played on her lips. "You boys really don't break the rules much." She brushed some hair behind her ear before taking a slow breath.

Ray shook his head. "Not at this level."

Jamia just held her smile as she shifted her gaze down the hall. "I have the cell block number. We just need to follow the path with a few turns and we should start seeing them."

"Why do we need such a big area dedicated to housing prisoners?" Frank questioned as he looked down the long hallway ahead of them. It wasn't often they brought people in from the outside. Was it all a threat for insubordination?

"That's a question for later." Ray steadied himself on his feet. "For now, we need to focus on finding them."

Frank nodded in agreement. He let Jamia and Ray take the lead, while he trailed the back of the group. They were already passing cells, but their viewing windows were dark. Cell after cell. No one occupied them. Why push these prisoners so far back?

They walked up and down paths for what felt like hours before Jamia stopped at a dimly lit hall. The light flickered over it as she looked down at her clipboard. "This is it." She whispered, "They should be here." She turned back to look at Frank, "I think you need to take lead on this. I'll be lookout."

Ray turned to look at him too. "You or me first?" He asked, pushing his mop bucket into the hall to rest against the wall.

Frank felt his heart jump. This was it... Right? He could maybe find answers here?.. If there was anything to find...

"I've got your six." Frank responded quietly. He could feel his stomach doing flips as Ray nodded and began to move down the hallway. He let out a shaky breath before beginning to follow.

The very first cell that they approached on their left was immediately different to all of the other ones they had moved past before. This one was lit up. Ray paused briefly upon it, but didn't linger. Frank took his time to approach it, feeling his stomach twist with each step he took closer to it. There was no avoiding it, however, and, despite how much he felt like he could throw up, he stepped into the light emitted by the first cell.

The interior was gray, but basked in a dull yellow light. Against the back wall a figure rested with their head down with light hair obscuring their face. They sat with one leg outstretched in front of them while the other was bent at an angle to their side. One hand rested at their side while the other  rested on the outstretched leg. The hand on the leg was dotted in messy splotches of red that, when Frank looked towards the wall, also looked imprinted on the wall. He looked back to the figure, but there was nothing about him that called out to Frank. He wasn't sure who he was. He considered tapping on the glass, but instead began to move past the room. The figure didn't stir as he did.

The next cell had someone sitting on the floor with their face hidden behind their hands. Red flower petals surrounded them on the floor as their shoulders raised and fell in shuddering motions.

As he looked in, Frank felt his fingers brush against his nose. He looked down, seeing his fingers holding a red petal that was soaked by a black liquid that was dripping down his fingers. When he blinked, however, it was gone. He flexed his fingers before pressing his fingertips into his palm. It was like he could still feel the soft petal against his skin... How did he know what that felt like?

He brought his gaze back to the room. The figure had pulled their hands away from their face, revealing brown eyes full of tears. His lip quivered as he seemed to speak something that Frank couldn't hear. He brought his hand up to the glass, trying to lean as close as he could.

A bright flash shot across his vision as a sharp pain stabbed into his chest. He cried out, knees buckling beneath him. He barely managed to catch himself from falling as Ray turned around with worry. His friend rushed back to him, but Frank waved away his worry. It was nothing. There was nothing. They needed to move on.

Ray nodded and began forward again, but Frank lingered for just a moment longer at the room with the brown eyes boy with the vest of flower petals. He was looking towards the glass with wide eyes. He clutched the petals of his vest tightly as he looked in Frank's direction, probably made aware of his presence by the sound of his near fall. Unlike the first figure, Frank felt like he shouldn't move forward. Was there something here? The petals...

Despite the uncertainty, Frank moved past the boy.

Ray was tilting his head at the occupant of the next cell. When he saw Frank approaching, he pointed silently for Frank to look.

When Frank looked inside the glass, there was a boy laying flat on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. Seemingly absentmindedly, he waved his hand in a loose figure eight motion before letting it drop to his chest. It rested for just a moment before it raised up and repeated the movement. His eyeline was cast up at the ceiling, but his actual gaze seemed far away. It was as if he was seeing past it to something that wasn't there.

Find the cracks

The voice echoed in his head again and, somehow, Frank knew it belonged to him.

"Patrick?" He reached out to touch the glass, feeling a strange gut sensation as his fingers got closer. Before they could connect, however, Ray grabbed his wrist.

"You said a name." Ray's eyes were wide as he stared at Frank.

"Hu?" Frank blinked at him. He suddenly felt unsteady on his feet, like he could fall to the side at any moment.

"You said a name." Ray repeated, "Frank... Do you know this guy?"

"Who?" The flickering light of the hall was beginning to hurt his eyes. When did it start flickering? How long had they been here? Why did he feel so weird...

Ray released his wrist and Frank stumbled slightly, leaning himself against the wall. His head was buzzing, or was that the light? This felt wrong. He turned back towards the room, but the door handle poking out caught his attention over the boy waving his hand in the room, or his friend saying muffled words to him. Without a second thought, he grabbed hold of the handle, twisted, and slid himself into the room.

He pulled the door shut behind him, gasping as he leaned against it and began to slide down. The buzzing was dampened here, but he could still hear it. His head felt heavy, but he still managed to trace his gaze around the room. It was all just gray. One big block of gray with a small light that poked out of the ceiling. The only thing that wasn't gray rested on the ground in the middle of the room.

The boy hadn't seemed to notice Frank's presence at all. He remained unchanged in occasional hand waving before it dropped back against his chest.

Frank stared at him. When he looked at him, he felt like he should see yellow. He felt the color should be there, but the boy in front of him had no yellow about him. Not in clothing. Not in hair vibrancy. Not in eyes. Frank frowned. It felt like the color should be there.

Frank leaned forward, putting his hand out in front of him on the ground. When it made contact with the gray floor, cracks spread from under his palm. He gasped, pulling his hand back, but there was nothing there. He tilted his head at the ground. Why was this happening? He put his hand down on the same spot, but saw no cracks this time.

"Find the cracks..." Frank muttered to himself. "Find the cracks..." He looked back towards the boy on the ground. "Are you a crack?"

The boy didn't reply. He didn't even seem to hear Frank. He just continued to look at nothing and move his hand lazily.

Frank crawled forward. The buzzing grew louder in his head. Or was it whispering? The boy didn't notice his approach. Frank kept moving closer, even as the faint noise of the door opening behind him briefly broke through the whispers that blocked his ears. He was focused on the boy. The way his hand moved and fell against his chest, it was almost like Frank could feel it dropping against his own chest. His stomach twisted, but not in the same way it had in the halls. There was an excitement to it's movement. When he was close enough, he reached out, feeling a strange sensation running down his arm. He could feel his lips move, but he wasn't sure what words came out as he grabbed the boys hand midmotion.

Everything seemed to stop.

The whispers hushed.

His stomach stopped twisting.

The boy's hand didn't try to continue its twisting path.

The only thing that continued were the beats of Frank's heart, and the strange sensation that ran down his arm. He could feel it building in his hand before fading where his skin made contact with the other boy's skin.

A soft gasp escaped the boys lips and his eyes seemed to widen just slightly.

As Frank looked at him, the boy's eyes began to change. What was a mixture of greens and blues shifted as spots of yellow began to poke through. The boy's brow began to furrow in confusion as more yellow expanded over his iris. "Oh..." The sound was barely audible, despite the silence as the boy's head turned towards Frank. They locked eyes, both seemingly unsure what to make of the other. There was such a familiarity to the boy in front of him, Frank knew he had to have some kind of answers. The boy looked back at him confused, but a soft giggle escaped his lips after a moment.

"I remember your magic." He whispered before the world around them shifted from gray to black.

Frank squeezed the boy's hand tighter as even the ground beneath them seemed to be swallowed by black. What had been stable suddenly felt like air. He was no longer resting on his knees, it felt like he was floating. He looked up with a shaky breath to see the boy beginning to float upright, but still keeping a hold on his hand.

"I think you changed, but I recognize you." The boy with yellow eyes whispered, cocking his head at Frank.

"How?" Frank squeezed his hand. "Everything is... Please, tell me." A hope raised in Frank's chest. The familiarity was right. He did know this person, and he knew him too.

"You had me change the world for you." He replied before he himself seemed to change. What was a young man shrank, while keeping his hold on Frank's hand, becoming a young boy that seemed just past the stage of learning to walk and talk. "Remember?" His voice matched his appearance, young and squeaky.

Frank blinked at him. He didn't know any kids within the force, and he hadn't been gone long enough to know someone from childhood to adulthood... Right? That hope he had felt only seconds before was quickly dying down.

The child looked at their hands for a moment. Eventually, he nodded. "You're different. I need to show you."

"Show me what?" Frank asked.

The child looked up at him and smiled. "How she saved you."