Two days.

That's how long Cayson was allotted before he was deemed, in Ezra's eyes, as healed. Sean appeared that morning to collect Cayson, who had been woken up by Elena's brash screams and Doctor Wells botched attempts to calm her. Elena was so infuriated with her friend that when she was coerced to agree, she forced Sean to wait outside.

Doctor Wells had left, an ill patient requiring his attention elsewhere. Cayson was the single member from their wave, as they were denoted as, left to be assessed. Ezra refused to discharge the others until Cayson was verified.

"What a moron," Elena murmured, shaking her head as she concluded her job of redressing Cayson's bandages.

"It's not his fault," Cayson made an effort to come to Sean's aid. He knew Sean was just the messenger for the monster.

"He used to not be so . . ." Elena bit her lip, standing tall; she huffed.

"You okay?" Cayson asked.

". . . Sean was in my wave. We got here together, we survived together and . . . he just does everything and anything Ezra tells him to do. He used to know right from wrong . . ." Elena trailed on, compiling a list of the flaws inflicted on Sean from his friendship with Ezra.

"Elena," Cayson interjected. She gave him her attention. "It's alright." Cayson lied, nothing was okay. He had been ripped from his life and flung into the middle of the woods. A band of murders hunted him and his friends, leaving few survivors.

And, worst of all, Ezra didn't trust Cayson.

Cayson could effortlessly read hatred in others expressions. He was so used to being looked down on by others, people using his father's faults to categorize Cayson. Ezra sought nothing more than to kick him outside of the line and feed him to the wolves, and that troubled Cayson more than anything.

"You're a terrible liar," Elena smirked, Cayson mimicked her playful grin. "Alright, let's get you up." Elena gripped Cayson's good arm, assisting him as he slid from the cot. His arm ached unbearably from the effort and he exhibited this all through a single groan. "That wasn't so bad, huh?" She tormented. Elena swiped something off of the table, attaching the device to Cayson's arm.

"What's that?" Cayson wondered, hissing from the pain as she tied something around his shoulder.

"This is your good old homemade sling," she responded once she had finished. "Okay, Cayson, listen to me. For your evaluation, tell the truth. Ezra has a sixth sense about lying, he'll catch it right off the bat and you'll be screwed. Try not to sound too vulnerable, but also be terrified."

"Are you telling me this as my nurse?" He snorted.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm telling you as my friend." Cayson could have laughed at the horrible timing of this situation. He was an antelope that had squeezed past a pack of hungry lions only to now be heading right into their den.

Yet, the idea of someone watching his back was so comforting.

"Are you ready yet?" Sean grouchily called from outside.

"Will you shut up!?" Elena snapped faster than a twig.

"Thanks . . . for everything," Cayson expressed his gratitude, exceedingly appreciative. She had, after all, aided Doctor Wells in saving his life. If they hadn't stitched up his wound and provided him with the proper medication he wouldn't have made it through the night.

"Good luck . . . when your done don't forget to come back and get some medicine." Elena cuffed his undamaged shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid."

"No promises," Cayson murmured with a chuckle, withdrawing from the tent. Sean stood nearby the entryway, stomping his foot irritably. "Sorry." Sean's head reeled in Cayson's direction. Without a word, Sean advanced toward Ezra's building, Cayson trailing behind him.

A few people were scattered about, most of them heading towards the smallest of the three buildings.

"That's the mess hall," Sean informed as he detected Cayson gawking at it. Sean came to a halt as he waited for Cayson to catch up.

Once Cayson had, the two carried on their trek.

Cayson glanced at his companion whom looked very agitated. His low cheekbones were coated in dirt. It was obvious that he had tried to rub some of it off and had given up halfway through. The shady bags beneath his almond shaped eyes were, feasibly, the easiest feature to spot.

"Is everyone okay?" Cayson questioned, holding Sean's attention.

"Everyone?"

"My wave or whatever it's called."

"Oh," Sean exclaimed. "Besides driving me crazy asking about you, they're fine." They arrived at Ezra's building, Sean extending his hand to grip the handle. "Before we go in," he started, retracting his hand. "You need to know that . . . I'm sure Elena filled your head with stories about Ezra but he's not a bad guy-"

"Then why is he testing us?" Cayson deliberated, unable to add together Sean's portrayal of Ezra and the practice of the examinations.

"It's not a pencil and paper test, you know that right?" Sean held open the door, gesturing Cayson to step inside. "It's to make sure you're okay . . . to make sure you don't do anything stupid that'll get you killed." The two traveled up the sets of steps in silence.

Cayson had hated his life for as long as he could remember. However, now, he sought it back more than anything. He'd take his twisted definition of normal any day over his current situation.

Sean conducted Cayson through the door and to their concluding point. Ezra drifted over the big counter in the epicenter of the room, finger outlining a streak scraped into a map. Upon hearing the door open he uncurled his back. His brain registered Cayson's company and his eyes concurrently narrowed.

"Mr. Winslow," he greeted with thin lips. "You're alive." Cayson delayed a reply, anticipating Ezra to close his notion with the word 'sadly', subsequently his face said just that.

"He's ready for his evaluation, sir," Sean cut in. Ezra circled around the table so he could stand in front of Cayson. Ezra propped his back up against the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What happened to you out there . . ." Ezra hesitated. "The Reapers are no one to mess with. If you step foot outside of the boundary line, you won't make it very long."

"What I don't get is how a line made out of twigs and rocks keeps them out?" Cayson quizzed, not having felt safe from the time he woke up.

"Do you not understand how dangerous leaving the camp is? You think this is a joke?" Ezra inquired, fuming.

"No, I was just-"

"They don't cross the line. We can't honestly explain why but they've never stepped foot over it." Sean filled in. Ezra was undoubtedly dissatisfied with this.

"Thank you Sean, that'll be all," Ezra pronounced, eyes still on Cayson.

"Ezra-"

"Thank you," he interjected in a brasher tone. Sean contemplated over his demand before fading down the steps.

"Who were you before you came here?" Ezra solicited.

"Sorry?" Cayson was uncertain how to reply to the question.

"Who are you, Cayson?" He tilted his head in inquiry.

"Nothing special," he retorted honestly.

"Are you an angry person? Easily frustrated? What do you do when you're angry? Punch a wall? Run off?" Ezra initiated his interrogation.

"What's with these questions?" Cayson speculated.

"What about when you're sad? What's your relationship with your family? Have you ever been arrested?"

"This isn't about the stupid examination, is it?" Cayson grilled with a gulp. Cayson had felt himself flinch at the last question and he prayed Ezra hadn't picked up on it.

"I'm going to be honest, Mr. Winslow," Ezra kicked off the table, storming across the room. Ezra was loftier than Cayson by a couple inches and he glowered down at him with odious dark eyes. "I don't trust you."

"Why?"

"This whole situation doesn't make sense. The Reapers don't attack the newbies. Not only did you somehow survive but you also managed to be the only person injured . . . I don't believe in coincidences."

"You think I got stabbed on purpose?" Cayson scoffed.

"What person willingly puts themselves in danger for a complete stranger?" Ezra probed. Cayson believed it was a bad time to point out that what he had said rhymed.

"You don't trust me because I did the right thing?!" Cayson snapped.

"It's a great cover, isn't it?" Ezra glared at Cayson. "Things are about to get a lot worse for you. You'll show your true colors eventually."

"Is that a threat?" Cayson growled.

"No . . . it's a promise."