"They did what?" Theo whispers. His voice is quiet, restrained. He's holding back, holding it inside. 

"Peter." I spat with as much venom as my sore and achy body could muster. "And one of our defects, goes by Dozer." 

"Did they.." He trails off, the question went unsaid, but I knew what he meant. His eyes are dark and cold. Every muscle in his body is tensed

"Not...in the way you're thinking." I clear my throat. I didn't realize when I said it how awkward it would be to talk about. "But...almost."

I look away. He is silent and still for so long that eventually, I have to say something. The white hot anger that flashed through me was dying out, replaced with another dizzy spell. 

"That's the second hit to your head you've had in 3 weeks." 

I deflate and place my head in my hands, I closed my eyes and I felt the world spinning around me. I felt a hand on the back of my head. I feel a little pressure, and I allow it, I follow the pressure. Theo pulls me into his chest. He's slow and deliberate, if I wanted to sit up or pull away I could. But I didn't want to. I willing curled up into his chest and he just held me. I felt safe. I kept my eyes closed, placing my sore head on his shoulder, burying my face into his neck. I can feel his muscles relax. I feel one hand cradling my head and the other one holds me, his arm around my back. 

"Why were you there?" I ask, my words whispered against his skin. 

"I was coming back from the command room. I heard a scream."

"What did you do to them?" I ask. 

"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," he says. "Peter and the other one, you said Dozer? They ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you. At least, I think that's what he was trying to say."

"He's in bad shape?" I ask pulling away to look at him. 

"He'll live," he replies. He adds bitterly, "In what condition, I can't say."

It isn't right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first. But white-hot triumph races through me at the thought of Drew in the infirmary, and I squeeze Theo's arm. "Good," I say. My voice sounds tight and fierce. Anger builds inside me, replacing my blood with bitter water and filling me, consuming me. I want to break something, or hit something, but I am afraid to move, so I start crying instead. Again. I hate it. I hate crying. I don't see pity in Theo's eyes, but I see them soften. He gently wipes the tears from my bruised face. 

I sniff, which makes me wince. I look away, angry at my self. "I'm going to kill them. No one touches me like that and gets away with it." I whisper. It's a promise. 

"Good. I would expect nothing else." He gently yet firmly makes me look at him. "Peter..." He starts, he frowns, like he's thinking. "How did he hold you over the edge?" 

"I don't know. I'm not exactly small..." I trail off, and think back, now that the immediate danger is gone, I think back, and try and remember the details. The crease in my forehead deepens, the frown pulls at my mouth. "Theo...I think...I think he's infected. His eyes were crazy, the strength...manic laughter and he was coughing." 

Theo curses. "How would he get infected? I thought we were all immune?" 

"Anyone can lie when you have someone helping you cover it up." 

Theo looks at me hard. "Are you suggesting that Janson-"

"I'm suggesting nothing, but...right before I was attacked from behind I overheard a conversation between...someone and someone on the other side of a communication device. Someone who was still in the Capital. We brought a traitor with us. Someone pretending to be a rebel, but is now passing information to WICKED." 

"Shit." 

Theo pulls away to stand up and starts pacing the little apartment. He runs a hand over his short dark hair and then down his neck. His hair looks a little tussled and messy, maybe from running his hand through it. He's let it grow out a bit, now I can see that it's curly. I watch him a bit, he also has some scruff on his cheeks and chin. In WICKED he kept it short and clean shaven. I like the longer hair and scruff. I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him again with the scruff, how scratch it would feel. My hands itch to run through his hair. I realize I've been staring, my face flushes with heat and I look away at my feet, which I realize now. Theo must have taken my boots off. I look at my self and feel suddenly venerable. I crossed my arms across my chest. The tank top I had worn was ripped and exposing my bra underneath. I heard footsteps coming closer. Theo had pulled his hoodie off and handed it to me. 

"I should have offered it sooner." 

I glance up at him, still feeling heat in my face. I tried to reach for it but gasp, pain in my ribs faired through me. Without waiting he help me slip his hoodie on. It's warm. And smells like him. It makes me feel calm. I have started to associate his smell with feeling safe and feeling calm. I nuzzle my face into the front of his hoodie, my eyes closed and I smile. For the first time that night. 

He leaves the room for a second, and comes back with an ice pack, he crouches down in front of me and slips the ice pack under the hoodie and holds the ice to my bruised ribs. It makes me suck in a sharp breath. He leaves his hand, holding the ice pack. His chest is leaning on my knees, he looks up at me. I feel locked in place. He moves his free hand. He rests his hand on the side of my face, his thumb skimming my cheekbone. His fingers are careful. He's always careful when he touches me. He's harsh and vicious, he's hard and doesn't show mercy. Yet when he looks at me I see his eyes soften, the muscles in his back relax slightly. His hands are gentle, and hesitant, like he is scared he's going to break me with his fingers. 

I close my eyes and lean into his hand. I place my hand over his pressing his hand firmly in my cheek and we just sit. We sit in silence. I eventually feel the pull of sleep, my exhausted body begs for sleep. I don't go back to the dorms that night. Theo helps we lay down. An Ice pack on my head and wrapped around my ribs, I curl up at the edge of his bed, breathing in the scent of his pillowcase. It smells like detergent and something heavy, sweet, and spicy and distinctly male. My stomach twists, and I feel an ache deep in my chest.

Theo sleeps on the floor of his apartment- he has his own small apartment, another perk of being in leadership. Communicuff and your own apartment.  My arm hangs off the bed, I feel his fingers intertwin with mine. I peek over the bed. He lies on his back with one arm around his head, the other leaning on the bed, the tip of our fingers intertwined. His eyes are closed, his lips parted. For the first time, he looks as young as he is, and I wonder who he really is. Who is he when he isn't WICKED Commander, isn't an instructor, isn't Monster, isn't anything in particular?

Whoever he is, I like him. A lot. It's easier for me to admit that to myself now, in the dark, after all that just happened. He is not sweet or your typical gentle or particularly kind. But he is smart and brave, and even though he saved me, he treats me like I am strong and independent and capable. He always respected me as a female superior officer. That is all I need to know. I like Theo. A lot. 

I watch the muscles in his chest expand and contract until I fall asleep. I feel safe.

•×•

I wake to aches and pains. I cringe as I sit up, holding my ribs. and walk up to the small mirror on the opposite wall. I pull my purple hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. The door opens and Theo walks in, a towel in hand and his hair glistening with shower water. I feel a thrill in my stomach when I see that he doesn't have a shirt. Every muscle is defined and hard. I see a tattoo curling over his shoulder and up his neck. He also has half a sleeve, over his shoulder and bicep.  I force my eyes up to his face. 

"Hi," I say. My voice sounds tight. I wish it didn't.

He touches my bruised cheek with just his fingertips. "Not bad," he says. "How's your head?"

"Fine," I say. I'm lying- my head is throbbing. I brush my fingers over the bump, and pain prickles over my scalp. It could be worse. I could be floating in the river. 

"Lier." He says quietly. I just nod in agreement.  Every muscle in my body tightens as his hand drops to my side, where I got kicked. He does it casually, but I can't move.

"And your side?" he asks, his voice low.

"Only hurts when I breathe."

He smiles. "Not much you can do about that."

"Peter would probably throw a party if I stopped breathing."

"Well," he says and pulls a t shirt over his head, "I would only go if there was cake."

I laugh, and then wince, covering his hand to steady my rib cage. He slides his hand back slowly, his fingertips grazing my side. When his fingers lift, I feel an ache in my chest. He doesn't move away, still standing close, his eyes flick over me, and linger on my lips. Everything screams at me as I step closer, into his personal space. Placing my hands hesitantly on his waist, I feel his hands slid up the side of my neck and cup my jaw. His hands are so big his fingers are almost wrapped around my head, his thumbs brush my skin by my ear. 

"Ray..." 

He whispers just my name and I feel a thrill, my stomach drops like I missed a step on the stairway. I can feel my heart beating faster. His voice is deep and smooth. He dips his head and leans his forehead on mine. His nose brushes mine. 

"Thank you." I whisper. My eyes flutter closed, our air mixes together. I feel the edge of what happened last night melting away the longer he stays. 

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you." 

"I mean that much to you?" I ask surprised, my eyes open. 

"Yes." He says. He lifts his forehead off mine and looks at me. His face was set and steady. "In WICKED I couldn't do anything about it. About how I felt. Inside WICKED I didn't want to feel the way I did... If He found out, he would've use that against me. I wasn't going to let him use you against me." 

"I had no idea." 

"He didn't either. I made sure I kept a tight hold on everything." 

I felt another flutter in my stomach. I tipped my head to look up at him, he looked down. His nose brushed mine. He closed the distance. His lips were soft and warm, slightly chapped. His hands bury into my hair and pulled me closer. He tipped his head and deepened the kiss. My hand slid up his back, feeling his muscles contract. I felt his tongue slide across my lip. Not really sure what I was supposed to do, I followed his lead. He parted my lips and his tongue slid into my mouth. My muscles tightened, suddenly nervous. Theo slowly pulled away, his eyes dark, but he looked at me in concern. He gently kissed my forehead. 

"Come on, lets get some food into you." 

I slid his hand into mine and together we went for breakfast. 

"You don't have your schedule." I point out. 

He smirks and looks at me. "Maybe your a bad influence." 

 I smile back, with a soft chuckle. It makes me wince, I hold my ribs the rest of the way down. He doesn't let go of my hand even as he pushes the door to the dinning area open. The ambient noise of people talking grates on my pounding head. I wince. 

"Are you alright?" 

"Might need some pain meds or something..." I answer, squinting my eyes at the harsh florescent lights. Theo leads me to the table where our squad is eating. They all seem to stop at once and turn to look. I see a few mouths drop. 

"What happened?" Will asks, lowering his voice. 

The girls eyes flick back and forth between us. Brenda is staring at our interlocking hands. I clench my teeth and sit, groaning slightly as I twist my legs onto the bench. 

"A bunch of fucken cowards jumped her last night." Theo explains. 

There was an instant uproar. I groan and place my head in my hands, trying to block out the loud sounds. 

"I took care of one. I'll take of the others." Theo growls. That stops the outrage from everyone. They settle down. I can see the guys white knuckling their forks and their eyes are now flicking around the dinning room, like guard dogs. The girls look ready to slam some elbows into faces. 

"I'll grab your breakfast, Ray, don't move." Theo says, a ghost of a smile appears on his face. 

"I was planning on dancing on the table." I retort with an eye roll. 

"That'd be...interesting." He gives me a sly half smirk and then walks away. As soon as his back is to us, the girls all lean in and look at me expectantly. 

I roll my eyes and explain what happened and how Theo was there and beat the klunk out of Drew, how Peter was yesterday and the guy named Dozer. How Theo brought me to his apartment and slept on the floor. I skipped the intimate details. 

"So...are you two a thing now?" Al asks 

"They are indeed." Christina says for me. 

We haven't put a label on what we are, but definitely more then commander and superior officer. More then friends; I don't kiss Al and Will. He told me that I was important to him, so much so he kept his feelings hidden for two years, because he didn't want his father to know about me. Theo came back with my tray looking frustrated. 

"What's wrong?" 

"They wouldn't give me your tray." He says and set it down in front of me. 

"But...you have it." 

"Yes. Now I do. I had to aggressively request it from the idiot behind the counter." He growls, "Like I want second helpings of this...whatever this is." He holds up what is supposed to be oatmeal and lets it slash back into his bowl. It is not appetizing at all. I take a few bites, my stomach is hungry enough for it. 

The TV in the corner of the dinning room comes on. I groan, I'm sick of hearing about the uprisings, the new the death toll of the Flare, signs and warning of what it looks like. Reminders of what to do incase you or someone you know has caught the Flare. An ominous message from Chancellor Ava Paige or Director Janson, live video of what's going on inside the mazes. I can't stand to see Maze A; Minho looks the same, the hard faced, straight harsh boy who has seen too much. And m hear hurts when I see him running the mazes, and knowing he thinks there's no way out. It's always the same.

So it's jolting to hear Effie Trinkets shrill twittering voice. I twist to the see the TV. I wince in the process, I feel a warm hand slid onto my ribs and hold them, I melt slightly into Theo and his touch. I finally see Effie Trinket with her painted face and sparkly banana yellow dress and matching wig preparing to give an interview. The camera pulls back and I feel my heart stop. 

A sound escapes me. The same combination of gasp and groan that comes from being submerged in water, deprived of oxygen to the point of pain. I push of Theo and stand up, I just about trip on my way over to the TV. A strangled cry leaves me again. Sonya and Harriet are right beside me. I can feel Theo behind me. 

"How?" I whisper. "How is that possible?" I twist my head for a split second, "I watched her die! I watched Hailey die on live TV!" I cry. 

I sink to my knees, my eyes glued to the TV. Hailey is alive and well, and healthy. Not a single Griever mark on her.