Reed lunged forward, adrenaline surging in her blood. Alex convulsed, shaking like a leaf in the wind, his large hand gripping Isabella's throat dangerously tight. A string of breathy sighs came from his lips, eyes opening and closing, fingers clamped around the poor woman's throat. Reed's hands desperately grasped at his forearm, trying to pry his fingers off, but he wouldn't budge. His muscles spasmed, mumbles and groans spilling from his lips. Isabella's cheeks were tinted with purple, the woman looked like a ripe plum with not enough oxygen passing through her windpipe.

"No! Alex, stop!" Reed called out desperately. She wasn't nearly as strong as Alex, struggling to pull him away from the other scientist. Choked-out croaks left his throat, his hand suddenly losing its grip before he fell back onto the mattress. The second his hands left Isabella's body the woman collapsed to the floor, gripping the tender flesh of her neck, fear palpable in her eyes. She scrambled away from the bed, crawling desperately until her back hit the frame of the bed behind her. Reed found herself by Isabella's side in seconds, her heart pounding in her ears. Isabella was wheezing, the remains of her make-up running down her face, saliva dripping down her chin and between her fingers.

Reed's head was spinning, her mind void of any comprehensive thought.

What do I do? What do I do?

"Shhhhh.... Shhhhhh...." She tried, her hands travelling to Isabella's wrists.

"I...I...A-Alex..." The woman choked out, rattling coughs following her attempt to speak.

"Shhh. Don't speak...Let me see..." Reed murmured, her fingers tracing Isabella's soft skin. With shaking hands and quiet sobs, the other woman finally removed her palms from her throat, Reed wincing at the sight underneath Isabella's palms. Isabella's throat was swelling up, bruises from the burst blood vessels marking the spots where Alex's hands dug into her skin.

Isabella's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath too short to be possibly getting her enough oxygen. Reed tried calming her down, pushing through her own discomfort. Her hands softly rubbed against Isabella's shoulders, trying to help her regain control over her breathing.

"I-It...H-h-hurts...Breathe..."Isabella managed to rasp out. Reed's thoughts were scattered, trying to come up with a possible solution. Unlike Isabella with her veterinary experience, Reed knew little to nothing about anatomy, especially regarding humans. It didn't look like Isabella's windpipe was crushed, but she might have suffered some damage to the vocal cords.

"Ummm...I...I..." she looked around.

"Ummm...let's get you some cooling cream, maybe?" she stood up, marching right towards the cupboards. She rummaged through the shelves, going over different bottles and vials in search of something that would ease the other woman's suffering. Eventually, just as Reed was about to give up, her fingers bumped into a small tube of cream. Her eyes scanned the label before returning to her companion, tube already uncapped.

"It's a little bit cold..." Reed warned, applying the cream carefully onto the area. A startled "sorry" escaped her lips when Isabella flinched, wincing at the sudden inhale. It didn't take a genius to see she was in genuine pain, eyes glassy and full of anguish every time Reed's fingers passed the bruises.

Her heart was heavy with worry at the sight of her newfound friend, especially since she could not provide the necessary help. She felt guilty remembering how Isabella had set her nose into place with the calmness of a medical professional. Her inner saboteur was at it again, whispering degradations into her ear while she massaged Isa's throat.

You are like a child...

Completely useless...

Not strong enough to join the men...

Not smart enough to help fix the Vault...

Not skilled enough to care for Isabella...

Not perceptive enough to see through schemes...

Just... A nobody...An average Joe who stole the show from people deserving of recognition...

No wonder they all hated me...

Isabella's cry made Reed's eyes snap back to her face. Isabella was terrified, her body inching further and further into the bed frame, hopelessly trying to get away from something behind Reed. She glanced back, reassurance ready on her lips but, the second her eyes the molten gold irises staring back at her she froze in place. Alex was sitting up, his body twitching as the sweat dripped down his bare chest and shoulders. His skin was sickly pale, crazed eyes opened wide...Unmoving and set on the two women.

His lips moved, a string of mumbles leaving his lips. Reed couldn't begin to try and understand what the man was trying to say, feeling like her heart was going to jump right out of her chest. Alex's eyes were blank, like a hawk staring down their prey before ripping it to shreds. The longer he muttered under his nose, the more his face contorted into a grimace.

She could do nothing but just stand there, a deer in the headlights ready to be run over. Alex was gaining volume, the words on his tongue clearer with every passing second.

"Get out..."

"What..."

"Get out!" She bellowed, flashing his teeth like a wild animal. Reed cried out, body snapping into motion. Her hand closed around Isabella's wrist, pulling the woman up and towards the door. Alex howled, rolling off of the mattress and onto the cold floor of the infirmary, murder in his eyes.

"Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out!" He roared, the wild beast inside of him ready to pounce at his helpless companions. He struggled to his feet, displaying almost uncharacteristic agility for somebody who had suffered such grave injuries. Reed only narrowly managed to slide the door behind them, Alex's fingers missing the coils of Isabella's hair just by a few inches. Despite having lost one arm, the man grabbed the handle, pulling with all his might. Reed was forced to press against the door, trying her best to stop Alex from ripping the door back open.

"Go! Go get Ryan!" Reed yelled at Isabella, desperately trying to hold the door closed. Isabella stared at her, eyes wide like saucers. Her palm was covering her throat, eyes jumping between Reed and the door.

"Isabella! Go!"

A flash of recognition sparked in the dark eyes, Isabella finally turned around before bolting into the darkness of the hallway. Reed squeezed her eyes shut, pushing with all her body weight against the handle of the door. The slamming of Alex's body against the metal door paired with the animalistic grunts and yowls made icicles form in the pit of Reed's stomach. She couldn't run, knowing the second she let go of that door Alex would be out and having seen the way his muscles flexed and tensed as if the man hadn't just had his arm amputated. She knew... She couldn't outrun him. All that was left was holding the door, praying Isabella would be able to bring the others back before she would give in. With every slam and pull, Reed's body would bounce off of the cool surface of the door, her biceps screaming from the strain she had put on them. Her whole body trembled with exhaustion, grappling with the inhumane force behind Alex's outburst.

Please....Please...somebody....

But...No footsteps were echoing through the empty halls. No lights shone through the darkness of the entangled corridors. Aside from Alex, the Vault was deathly quiet. Had Isabella made it? Had she alerted the others? What if she'd collapsed somewhere? What if Reed's assessment of her injuries wasn't accurate enough? Had she sent her to certain death? Was somebody coming for her?

It truly felt like she was the last person alive, sentenced to fight against Alex and ultimately lose to his brutal strength. She knew she would let go of the door any second, her body sending chills and spasms up her spine. This was the end...She could only run.

Her fingers slid from the handle, her body reserving the last of her strength to flee. She didn't look back, bolting down the hallway and only distantly hearing the slam behind her. Alex was free...Perhaps even charging at her right now. She felt her legs cramp, the muscles unaccustomed to running before the bulk of his body crashed into her back. She released a startled gasp, tumbling to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Alex's body slammed against her, punching out all of the air from her lungs. The man sat on the small of her back, his hand tangled in the auburn mane of her hair. His grip was strong, squeezing the tears from her eyes as he yanked back.

"You...You have to get out! You have to..." he whispered into her ear, his voice toeing the edge of squealing.

"You h-have to...You...you have to get out... Y-you have to..." his damp breath wetting the shell of her ear. His fingers tightened around her curls, his chest and hips aligning with her spine and successfully pinning her down. He pushed her head down, her forehead slamming against the floor. Pain erupted under her skin, hot white anguish coursing through the neurons with the speed of lightning. Her head was only lifted for a couple of seconds before falling back again, the second wave a pulsating ache. As her consciousness began trickling away, Reed's mind went silent for the first time in her life. Somehow the realisation she was going to die in that hallway didn't weigh as much as she thought it would...

Rowan Reed would meet her end alone in the dark, her head smashed in by the man she thought she could trust... And strangely...She didn't mind...

Her ears were ringing, vision blurry. She tried opening her eyes but they almost immediately closed, eyelids too heavy for her eyes to open. She felt nauseous, yet hungry. Her body felt like she was spinning, laying flat on the carousel. She attempted to open her eyes again, catching a glimpse of somebody standing over her.

"H...Hello..." she heard herself say. The blurry figure jumped, their movements too fast for Reed's tired eyes to catch up. She distantly heard them curse, something dropping on the ground. The figure moved out of her vision, the sound of cloth sliding against the floor filling the room before the figure left, doors closing behind them. Her consciousness was short-lived, her lids unable to stay open as she succumbed to darkness.

The second time she woke up, her world erupted in pain, feeling like her face was on fire. She groaned, eyes fluttering open. She couldn't focus her vision, the lights above her too bright.

"S...Somebody turn that fucking thing off..." she grumbled, raising her hand to block the offending brightness. Almost as soon as she said it, the light was gone, wheels squealing as something rolled away from her side. A gentle pair of hands grasped her face, and the soft latex of gloves felt smooth on Reed's cheek. Two fingers parted one of her eyelids, shining a tiny light right into Reed's eye. She flinched, trying to swat whoever was touching her away.

Somebody snapped their fingers next to her ear, causing her to move away.

"Can you stop?" she muttered weakly. A few rattling coughs made Reed finally open her eyes for good, her vision improving ever so slightly. She was in the infirmary, laying on one of the cots while Isabella busied herself by the desk. It was strange really, her left eye seemed...

Reed's heart rate skyrocketed, palms breaking into sweat instantly. Her vision...Her eye! The world around her was tinted red, and one of her eyes saw the coppery shadow over the corner of the room. Memories came, flooding her mind with the myriad of images and sensations, her skin prickling at the feeling of Alex's hand in her hair. She jumped up, legs sliding off of the bed and ignoring the piercing pain travelling through her nerves. She stumbled forward, alerting Isabella of her consciousness. Her heartbeat was too fast, dizzying the poor woman while she struggled to stay upright. Isabella was right by her, supporting arm wrapping around the small of Reed's back.

"Back...Bed..." she rasped out. Reed winced at the sound of her voice, her vocal cords clearly sustained some damage and didn't hear over the time she was unconscious. How long was it even? How many spins of the Earth did it take for Reed to wake up? She didn't remember being rescued. She didn't remember anybody saving her.

"I...I-I I need to go to the bathroom..." Reed stammered out, panic taking over. She needed to see her eye. She needed to see herself. Isabella's face betrayed her discomfort, her dark eyes almost matching the bruises on her neck. Reed's vision was painting red spots on Isabella's face, fear urging her to keep going.

"Isa..." She pleaded, the broken look in her eyes finally convincing the woman. Isabella let out a small sigh, her features coloured with mutual understanding. She wrapped Reed's hand around her shoulder, hoisting the woman up before she wobbled towards the open door. Reed's thoughts raced through her mind, broken pieces of the horrible event making her tremble. She could still hear them...The dull thuds of her head being slammed face-first into the pristine floors of the Vault.

"H...How long was I..." She didn't have it in her to finish. Isabella glanced at her.

"Day..."

A day...Reed was knocked out cold for a day. Her hands shook, muscles spasming as she thought the flight response kicking in. It was twenty-four hours that she'd laid on that bed.

"What about... him?"

Isabella grimaced in the dark.

"Tied...Room..." She kept her sentences short, visibly wincing at the strain on her vocal cords. She couldn't begin to describe the relief she felt at those words. Alex was tied up in some room, away from everybody. The bitter anger rose in her chest at the thought of the man who assaulted her. Although some part of her knew that Alex wasn't himself, the ache of her injuries mixed with the fear for her well-being successfully squished any empathy she felt for him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to chase away the image of his crazed eyes locking with hers.

Just a little bit more...

Just a little bit...

The bathroom was right here, the door standing ajar just a couple of meters ahead of them. Isabella gave Reed one last reassuring squeeze, the silent question posed between them.

Are you sure you want to see it?

God.

Yes.

Reed's back was ridden with goosebumps, stomach cramping in nervous anticipation. She prayed to whatever deity watched over her that everything was fine. That it was just a couple of bruises, maybe a black eye. She wanted to be alright. She needed to be alright. Surely, Isabella would have found out if something was wrong. It was just a couple of bruises... But her vision was bloodied. Her head was hazy, pulsating pain overwhelming her senses with a crown of thorns.

She finally let go of Isabella, walking in on her jittery legs. Isabella lifted her flashlight, silently offering the torch to her companion, but Reed declined. She didn't know what shifted in her so suddenly, but the darkness of the Vault didn't overwhelm her like it used to... Maybe her senses were finally adapting to living in the dark.

Reed went into the small bathroom, drinking in the muted darkness after being exposed to so much brightness over the past few minutes. She braced herself against the sink, eyes purposefully avoiding the mirror. She watched her fingers tremble, nails hitting the porcelain with barely audible clicks.

"I am sure it's fine..." she whispered to herself, her digits gripping the edge of the sink.

"It's fine... You are fine..."

And yet she didn't want to look. If she was indeed fine, why was her neck refusing to let her see? Why were her muscles so tense? Why was she trembling?

You are the most dishonest person here...

Did she truly believe she was fine?

"On three..." she exhaled, bracing herself.

"One...."

You know you don't want to do this...

"Two..."

Your eye is damaged, you cannot be alright.

"Three..." Her head snapped open, green eyes meeting the matching set reflected in the mirror. Rowan Reed stared back at her from the glass surface and yet...

Her hand shakily rose to her face, barely tracing the edge of her jaw. A hopeless cry was trapped in her throat, her windpipe too tight to allow any noise to escape...

No...The person in the mirror couldn't be her. This was not her.

The woman in the reflection was deathly pale, her puffy flesh bruised black and blue. Reed's nose was visibly broken, a small cut on the bridge crusted with old blood. Her left eye was puffed up, sclera and brow arch were coloured with coppery fluid. The blood from the broken nose collected under her eyes, making her look like she'd gotten a bad nose job. Her upper lip was cut, small bruising travelling from the corner of her mouth over to the cupid's bow. A stray strand of hair escaping the matted mess of tangles littering her scalp, her hair having outgrown the usual pixie cut*.

Her mind couldn't comprehend the image before her.

That was not her. The person in the mirror was not her.

She was fine.

She was alright.

Reed watched the imposter's mouth hang open in a silent scream, hand travelling to the lips to muffle the shout rising in her throat.

That was not her. That was not real.

But...If it wasn't real, why did the touch to her lips stung? Why did her eyes water If it wasn't her? She was alright...She was fine...Right? Was she fine?

Reed watched a tear roll down the woman's cheek, a single stray tear that broke the floodgates behind the green pools.

Life wasn't a fairytale... It wasn't a piece of fiction where the protagonist comes out unscathed, with a mere cut on their forehead after slaying a beast. In truth...Life itself was a hungry beast, ready to devour and destroy as it saw fit... with no logic. No empathy. People were getting hurt, dying left and right, and whoever seemed to rule over the circus of tragedy took pleasure from their suffering. From her suffering.

Reed had never been particularly religious, her relationship with God was strained after her family's attempts to convert her. But in this very moment, looking at her mangled face she knew... If God was real... he didn't care about his children.

A sob ripped from her throat, burning and raw as it echoed through the small bathroom. Tiny hiccups assaulted her chest, spasming while the cries forced their way out. The tears flowed freely, wetting the swollen flesh on her face, snot and saliva dripping down her chin.

"M..My face..." she wailed, hands travelling into her hair, iron clamps tightening around her curls. She couldn't see the blood and tears, choking on every little noise that escaped from her chest.

That wasn't her. That could not be her.

"N-n-noooo...." Her nails were digging into her scalp, leaving red marks in their wake. Sorrow was swallowing her whole, wrapping its black tendrils around her soul. There was nothing she could do... Nothing she could do to escape...To get out...She was destined to die here, bludgeoned or ripped to shreds from the danger that seemed to infiltrate the very walls erected to protect them.

They were hopeless...

Abandoned...

Forsaken...

Her knees buckled, hitting the hard floor as she dropped to the ground. Her whole body trembled, unnamed emotions coursing through her veins like poison.

Forsaken...

Abandoned...

She didn't stop crying, even after the doors of the bathroom were pulled open, Isabella quietly slipped into the dark room. Reed could feel her warm knee bump into hers as the woman sat down, her gentle hands pulling Reed closer.

Reed had never been touchy-feely. She'd never been a hugger or a hand-on-the-shoulder type of a person. Two weeks ago she wouldn't anybody see her like that, a heaping puddle on the floor, sobbing like a toddler crying for their mom. She wasn't a hug person...Diane never hugged her and when she did eventually it felt foreign...Threatening... But Isabella's embrace was warm... Safe. Was that how it was supposed to feel? To be protected...Cherished even?

You are embarrassing yourself...

And yet she couldn't stop crying. She didn't have it in her to wipe her tears or close her mouth as the little hiccups escaped her tight throat. She could feel the steady thrum of Isabella's heart, her manicured finger gently scratching her back as she wept... She didn't want to resist anymore. She didn't want to be strong. She didn't want to be hopeful. She let herself fall apart right in Isabella's arms, the remnants of shame all stripped away by the dark hands of despair.

Reed sat by the console, looking at the stale crackers Ryan had brought her. She didn't feel like eating, not to mention that her jaw ached every time she opened her mouth. She readjusted the cold washcloth she'd been pressing to her forehead, wincing as her fingers traced the tender spot.

It had been three days since Alex had broken her face. It had been three days since she'd been to Observatory, choosing isolation in the bowels of the Vault. She'd only seen others in passing, not having any visitors for the first few days after Isabella successfully chased both Ryan and Aksel away. Reed was grateful for the support the other woman had shown her, taking care of her with tenderness previously unknown to the other scientist. She would bring her whatever food she could, look over her injuries or even just keep Reed company...Even when Reed would scream at her to go. It wasn't that Reed was trying to push her away, to take out her frustration on the poor woman, who despite having also sustained an injury, stayed so sweet...so caring towards her.

It was the shame holding Reed back. The shame to show her disfigured, scarred face around the Vault. Despite countless raspy reassurances, Diane's voice would echo in her head, the family wisdom her mother chose to pass on to her weighing her down like a steel chain.

Face for a woman is like money for a man...You lose it and you become invisible...

Reed hadn't looked in the mirror since the day she'd discovered the damage Alex had done, only relying on Isabella's words of comfort. Reed was ashamed of how she looked, how she failed to protect herself and got what she felt she deserved. It was a vain thing perhaps, grieving when one could have died for being so brutally attacked, but if there was anything Reed had been insecure about it was her looks, the very primal fear Diane had instigated in her from the second Reed could understand English.

Don't eat that, you will be fat...

You look like a whale in this dress...

I found a new diet for you...

Move a little...

So many zits on your face? Do you even shower?

Can't you just put on some make-up for a change?

Short hair?

You look like a boy...

The vicious ghost of her mother floated behind her back, cold hands poking and prodding at everything that Reed felt was wrong with her. It was made clear to her that her body was undesirable, leaving her face as the sole gateway to the femininity she'd so desperately wanted to achieve.

To be happy.

To make Diane happy.

But now? Reed knew what her mother would have said...How she would try and hug her. Kiss her on the forehead and everything would be fine until Diane would open her mouth, the most vile and hurtful words would leave her lips...Just like they always did.

The other's reaction to her "new look" wasn't exactly reassuring. Although both men came to visit, only Ryan was let in after a great deal of arguing with Isabella. Reed still remembered the way his eyes widened at the sight of her. How he stood frozen, cup of water in hand...How he ran away after leaving the drink at the table desperately avoiding her gaze... She knew there was nothing between them anymore, any feelings she had fading with time and Ryan's effort to make himself the most unlikable character in the Vault...and yet...His reaction killed whatever there was left of hope for rebuilding whatever there was between them. His abrupt leave just made her more ashamed...More withdrawn... Aksel also came to visit...Or rather attempted to, but Isabella's not-so-polite protests scared him away.

She sighed, rubbing her healthy eye with the sleeve of her hoodie. A part of her was glad to be back at the Radio Room, to have something to do instead of sitting curled up in the infirmary with those bright lamps giving her a headache. She'd had chalked her apparent dislike for light as one of many symptoms of concussion, but she couldn't chase the worries infecting her brain like a deadly virus. What if she'd suffered brain damage? What if her eyesight goes away from the internal bleeding?

Grim thoughts of waking up blind or not waking up at all plagued her for the past few days with little to no relief. Her nails tapped against the console, her leg shaking to the rhythm of the knocks.

"I am just a poor boy, nobody loves me..." suddenly a male voice rang through the speakers of the Radio Room. The man was singing, comically lowering and heightening his voice as he impersonated the voices of Queen*.

"He's just a poor boy, from a poor family..."

Reed couldn't help but smile awkwardly, recognising the genius behind the cover. She let Laine sing a little bit longer, the contagious tune spreading to her mind. She leaned in, pressing the button of the radio with hesitancy.

"I...I like your take on Mercury*..." she muttered, earning a startled curse from the other man.

"Damn it, I-I didn't know it was on..." Laine mumbled, shame audible in his voice.

"No, I really like it... Sounded almost like the original..." Reed joked quietly, earning a small laugh from the other.

"Good to hear from you too Reed. How have you been?"

Reed froze. How has she been? The question felt like a bucket of cold water spilt over her head How was she doing? Was she good? Had anything good happened to her recently? It felt as if a fist closed around her heart, digging deft fingers into the muscle.

"Reed? You there?"

"Yeah...I...I am good..." she heard her voice cracking, tears welling up in her eyes. Had she ever truly been good? Laine seemed to catch onto the swell of emotion behind her words, his voice going softer.

"Hey...Reed...I...What's wrong?"

"I...I...I don't..."

"Shhhhh... We can't give up, right? I am sure somebody will come for us..."

"N-no, I...This isn't..."

"It's going to be fine, really-"

"It's not going to be fine!" Reed couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand the reassurances, the meaningless "get wells" and "It's fines" thrown her way like she was a stray dog looking for scraps.

"It's not going to be fucking fine...Nothing is fine...Not me, not this place...Not even my face..."

There was a pregnant pause between them, Reed fighting the tears. Her cheeks were burning, knuckles tightening on the edge of the seat. It was unfair...It was so fucking unfair...

"Reed..."Laine's tentative whisper made her look up.

"What's wrong with your face?" The question was gentle, the quiet murmur feeling like a balm on her frazzled nerves. He wasn't pressing, there was no heat behind his words. Reed hesitated... Should she tell him? Did she even want to talk about it? She could feel Diane's nails clawing at her back.

Weak.

Failure.

That's why these things happen to you.

You have to be smarter than that.

Her hand hung suspended in the air, fingers hovering above the button. Should she do it? Tell this stranger about what'd been going on.

"Reed...I...I am just worried about you... Please answer..."

Reed's eyes widened. The familiarity she'd felt towards Laine...That unabashed desire to open up to the man...Finally, it made sense. She couldn't put a finger on it the last time they spoke, but now it was out in the open. His mannerisms and voice were just like...

Milo...

His smiling eyes flashed through her mind, how his sandy hair would blow in the wind during the motorboat rides. How he would laugh with her...How he would bring her snacks...The memories came back flooding, making the tears finally spill. She should have never left Salt Hill. She should have never left Milo... Her digits bumped against the button.

"I...My face..." she whispered. She sighed, bracing herself.

"I...It's not even t-that bad...I just got banged up a little bit..."

"Oh my god, are you okay? I mean...Jesus Laine of course you are not fine...I..."

"No, no it's... You are right...It's not fine..." her voice trembled.

"I...I...It's just embarrassing and...and s-so unfair...I... I tried to do a good thing and..." she grimaced, trying to force the words out.

Milo...Think about Milo...

"Everybody is staring at me... All the time...They think I can't see it but I can...I tried to do a good thing and they are just..." it was frustrating to even try and talk about it. She didn't know how to describe what was wrong.

"I...I don't know if that helps, but...I really do get where you are coming from..." Laine answered. Reed paused, her train of thought coming to a halt at his soothing words.

"I...Jesus, I haven't talked about it for so long...So..." The nerves were audible in his voice.

"I...I was a sickly child, you know? Fevers, stomach bugs all that crap...And eventually, I was taken for a screening and wouldn't you know it...Leukaemia..."

Reed's heart skipped a beat. Laine was sick?

"I was nine... maybe a little younger when I got diagnosed. I immediately started treatments, chemo, hell even therapy... I lost all of my hair. I wasn't strong enough to play or even walk sometimes... I felt weak...I was ashamed, you know? How people would look at me...How their eyes would get wider, how they would suddenly go quiet or even pretend I was not there...That they don't see me..."

"I...I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything...I...The point is...Everybody told me there was nothing to be ashamed about...That it wasn't my fault. So many people reassured me that things were going to get better and that I should enjoy life without even having a second thought about how I was feeling...It was killing me inside...Now, I...I didn't have a father at least not a present one, so my mum was raising me with her brother. I...I saw how wrecked it was...How seeing me made him lose all hope... I...I don't know where I am going with this but just know that...That I get it...When they stare... And I have to tell you... They won't stop...All you can do is just... Embrace it..."

Reed's voice was stuck in her throat, a swell of emotion pressing against her rib and threatening to burst. She felt bad for him, feeling the shame creeping back at the thought of how minuscule her issue was. Her bruises would heal, sure the scarring would remain, but soon the beating would only be a memory...And Laine? She couldn't imagine going through something like that...

"What I am trying to say it's... Don't feel ashamed...I'm okay, I am royally fucking this up, huh?"

A tearful chuckle escaped her lips.

"No...I appreciate what you said...I get the point...I think..."

"Good...I mean, being a bald nine-year-old is one thing. Imagine having to go through your life being called Laine... My mother really set me up with this one..."

Reed couldn't help but notice yet another quirk Laine and Milo seemed to share... The inability to end a conversation without making it into a joke...And for once, she appreciated it.

"My mum wanted to give me a strong Irish name... So here I am...Rowan Reed...Only my name translates to "little red-head" in old Irish..."

Liane sucked in his breath.

"Damn...Bullied much? I know I was..."

"Nah, I mean...I had a scar on my forehead so thankfully all the Johns and Jacks had something else to make fun of..."

"Let me guess...Harry Potter*?"

Reed let her muscles go lax, the change of topic more than welcome.

"Heh...You got me..."

"Did the scar also come from battling an evil wizard?" Laine joked, but unknowingly his words erased the small smile creeping up on Reed's face. Her shoulders felt heavy at the thought of that night...The night everything changed.

"I...I was in a car accident..."

"I am so sorry, I didn't know-"

"No, it's okay...It's been a long time ago...Almost twenty years..."

"Can...Can I ask what happened?"

Reed went silent for a minute. The topic was well-revised, her therapist used to make her talk about it in almost every session. Back in the doctor's office, she didn't want to talk about it...But with Laine? The words seemed to just come on their own as the overwhelming urge to just spill her secrets pressed on the back of her skull.

"I...My family is a bit messed up... My mother...It was right after my sister was born. My parents used to argue a lot...like all the time... They would scream at each other, dishes would fly, and doors would slam...There were instances when my mum would slap my father, especially after my little sister was born... She would accuse him of drinking, cheating...Conspiring against her... She would throw him out of the house every few weeks. It went on like this for months... I remember my little sister just screaming in her cot, while I listened to their screams downstairs... One night..."

Here we go...

One night...I lost everything...

"My mum threw my dad out of the house...He got really drunk and came back. I-I was nine I didn't...I didn't know something was wrong...I just wanted my dad back, you know? I just wanted him to come back...I...I got into a car with him... He was drunk, way too drunk to drive... The road was wet and slippery... and the car started sliding. My dad wouldn't slow down, even though I begged him to and... We crashed...I was later found on the side of the road by a couple. They called the ambulance but my dad...he...He didn't make it..."

Ruth? Ruthie...baby?

"That's...that's a lot...I..." Laine stuttered, breaking the silence that followed Reed's monologue.

"I... I am glad you didn't die in that crash..."

Reed's leg stilled at the sound of his words. Nobody...Nobody had ever said something like that to her. Nobody... Not her mother...Not her sister...Not her friends or even distant family... Nobody had ever said something like that...And it stung. It hurt that a stranger on the other side of the radio, a person she'd never seen with her own two eyes, had said more than her relatives all this time...

"I... Thank you..." A teary smile formed on her lips.

"No problem..."

"You... You remind me a lot of one guy I knew...It feels so like it was so long ago..."

"Oh, I do? What is he like?'

"He..."

Milo's infectious grin was right before her eyes, a traitorous mirage of the man she treasured, yet failed to acknowledge.

"He was very kind... Made me smile a lot..."

Laine chuckled quietly.

"That...Mysterious man of yours sounds a lot like you... You are also kind..."

"Me?"

"Yes, I mean...You are indulging a madman who is singing into the radio instead of sending out the SOS signals...That must be kindness, right?"

"Must be..."

She would lean into her chair, listening to the chatter flowing from the speaker. There was no effort to the conversation between them, all coming and going so easy it felt like breathing. They talked about music, about England, about sports and just about anything Laine wanted to talk about. And although Reed would remind herself countless times how it was dangerous, sharing so much with a stranger, how her mother had warned her about being open...Laine's charm was overpowering, beckoning even...Like a moth to a flame, Reed had revealed herself to him letting Laine into her tiny porcelain heart.

The darkness around her was stimulating her senses, eyes glaring into the mirror in front of her. Although the shadows around her were thick, some would say impenetrable, her eyes easily saw the mangled outline of her face. Diane's words were echoing through her mind, trying to scream over the gentle words of the man on the radio.

You look like a boy.

Nobody wants you.

I am glad you didn't die...

You have to embrace it...

Do you think you are going to change anything?

You are a weak, ungrateful crybaby.

I understand that... I get that...

You are kind...

She was heaving, voices in her head screaming like condemned souls. She could feel it...She could feel his hand in her hair, gripping...Yanking...

Embrace it...

Her hand tightened around the ginger curls. The buzzing of the trimmer filled the room as pieces of hair fell all around her.

She wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Like...Hair..." Isabella croaked from where she was sitting, pen tapping against the blank page of her notebook. Reed's hand instinctively travelled to her hair, half expecting to bump into the thick curls but no...The only thing that was left after Reed's makeover was the slightly crooked buzzcut she gave herself in that tiny bathroom.

"Thanks..." Reed mumbled, her cheeks heating up. She had grown considerably comfortable in Isabella's presence, even volunteering to help with the research Isabella was painstakingly carrying out while everybody else seemed to be concerned with solely surviving. Did Reed see any point in looking through the documents and the footage? The short answer was no... But, sitting in the Radio Room with Laine only occasionally popping in felt lonely...Gave her too much space to think and reflect, something she didn't want to do. It was common knowledge that too much thinking leads to despair and after what happened with Alex, Reed was clinging to the remains of stability with all her might.

With Alex out of the picture, the Vault had entered unexplored territory, the remaining four struggling to decide who should take over the leadership. Ryan was the obvious choice, the person who had been supporting Alex, but with the events of the last couple of days, everybody grew distrustful of his ability to handle himself. If Reed was, to be honest, nobody was as fit to lead as Alex was, but the man remained mostly asleep these days, with only occasional windows of consciousness. Isabella had visited him, a couple of times, finding out the man had little to no memory of the incident, which made it much worse. Reed really wanted to forgive him, to come and see him when he was feeling better but... She was scared. The rational part of her brain knew he wasn't responsible, but she just couldn't bring herself to waltz in there like nothing ever happened. Whatever it was that attacked her wore his face and nothing could be done about it...

Reed sighed, glancing at Isabella from above the scans of the exo-suit.

"Had Ryan mentioned anything about the food situation? That one fridge won't last us forever..."

Isabella looked up, her brows furrowed before she wrote something down, lifting the notebook for Reed to see.

We don't talk. He locked himself in the workshop and is fixing the exo-suit. Every time I come there he tells me he is busy.

Classic Ryan... Reed bit the inside of her cheek.

"What about Aksel?"

Isabella shrugged, reassuming her work with the notes. It wasn't hard to guess the crew of the Vault had fallen victim to chaos. There was nobody in charge, which meant...Essentially everybody was free to do whatever they wanted... This was deeply troubling, to say the least, and Reed couldn't help but worry... There were no consequences down here... Not anymore. The cameras didn't protect them.

Isabella cleared her throat, alerting the other woman. She pointed at her notebook, beckoning Reed closer. She walked over, peering over Isabella's shoulder at her notes. Reed hummed, scanning the numbers and comments the woman had written down, before glancing at the screen of her laptop.

"Your right...Something's fishy here..." Reed leaned over, pressing a couple of keys as she reviewed the scans.

"The pressure seems to be... fluctuating?" Reed couldn't believe her eyes. All of the numbers...The temperature, the pressure, even the current...All were simulating...

"If I didn't know where we are I would assume these are from some tropical reef biome... Nothing matches the depth, the...The environment...This makes no sense..." Reed glanced at Isabella, her brows almost touching her long eyelashes. She ran her tongue over her teeth, eyes trained on the numbers.

"Well, at least we know there is no chance of implosion of the Vault...That's good...But I don't like how it fluctuates..." Reed glanced at the notebook in Isa's hands, yet another note glaring at Reed in her pristine handwriting.

Do you think Noctis controls the pressure? It seems to be able to readjust the environment...

"Honestly? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised... Nothing about this creature makes sense...It appears out of nowhere but has allegedly been seen before. It has a heartbeat, is warm enough to raise the temperature of the ocean and hosts an entire ecosystem in its bowels... Gravity manipulation? Sure, let's just sprinkle it in there right with the rest of the stuff..."

Isabella gave her an unimpressed huff, clearly disapproving of Reed's little outburst.

No time for jokes!!!! This is serious! She wrote, glaring at Reed.

"I am sorry...I am just frustrated... It's all just a speculation Isa...All of it... We don't have enough tools to confirm what we are seeing here..."

But we can make simple observations... Like the ancient civilisations...

Reed rubbed her eyes tiredly, wincing at the tenderness of her left eye.

"Yes...But also they got a lot of stuff wrong... Like you need human sacrifice to make the sun get up the next day..."

Isabella rolled her eyes, pointing her pen where Reed had been sitting.

"Sit... Annoying..." Her voice was rough like sandpaper, making Reed wince at the thought of just how badly it must have hurt. Reed dropped back into her chair, grabbing the notebook with an exaggerated sigh as if she were a child refusing to do their homework. She looked over her notes, the mind map of what they knew about Noctis smeared from her sweaty palms.

Noctis was the largest animal on earth known to man, a host to a completely new environment with unique inhabitants that Reed couldn't even begin to document or describe. It's like the inside of Noctis was designed to mimic warmer tropical waters, housing ghostly subspecies of fish they had seen before, just like those creepy tunas on the camera. But through the assessment of all the data they have gathered, all the speculations no matter how wrong or right they might have been, one question kept circulating back to Reed's mind. According to Cannan, Noctis hadn't been out there for very long, definitely not longer than a month including their time in the Vault... There was an entire ecosystem inside of Noctis... Usually, the bigger the fish, the longer it took for it to mature and by that theory, especially in the deep...By that theory, there was no way the big fish they had seen could have been mature specimens... But then again the climate within Noctis was simulating a much warm, almost coastal environment... All of the fish needed to come from somewhere to be here. There had to be a lifecycle for them to exist and it couldn't have happened within a month... There was a possibility that Noctis had existed deeper in the ocean, but wouldn't something this enormous be detected? Especially this close to an Oil Rig? But if Noctis indeed migrated from somewhere else, that didn't explain the presence of fully matured corals on the reef. As far as Reed was concerned, there weren't even records of any big reef in this part of the Ocean. Surely a structure like that would be registered...But again, just like Isabella said, they could only go based on observation... But... There was another, much more terrifying option, suggesting that the fish and everything inside wasn't native to the biome...

"Isa?" Reed called out hesitantly, the woman looking up at the sound of her name.

"I...Remember that Tuna-like fish we saw?"

Isabella nodded, watching Reed with careful eyes.

"Now...There is a chance I am wrong, but... What if it was an actual Blue-finned Tuna we were looking at?"

Isabella furrowed her eyebrows, drawing a large question mark on one of the pages before relentlessly tapping it.

"Can you find the footage of that thing from the exo-cameras? You downloaded it, right?"

Isabella abandoned her notes, typing on the chunky keyboard of her work laptop, opening multiple tabs with the footage. She skipped through the video, stopping it on the specimen, as well as the school of fish that swam by their crew. Reed's eyes scanned the shimmery scales of the fish, trailing down the pointed fins in search of proof.

"Don't you think it's a little bit blue down here? Like faded, baby blue colour? And look at the fin shape on the spine..."

The sound of scribbling tickled Reed's ears as Isabella wrote her answer.

I can't see it... I see the fins, but I don't think there was any colour on that fish. It might be the lighting from the camera or bad resolution, and even if it was, there are so many species that look almost identical to each other. This cannot be Blue Finned Tuna.

"Yes...I know, but think about it. Blue Tuna is known to migrate through the open ocean and its body reflects on its lifestyle. It needs to swim for the gills to filter the water, the fins are supposed to let it glide faster and accelerate... And where do Blue Tunas live? Near the surface, they never go as deep as we are... So why does this fish have bone structures and characteristics that don't match the environment it lives in?"

But the fins are elongated, especially the dorsal ones. That's not something a Blue Tuna would have.

"Yes, but why does it have the body parts it doesn't need? Don't you find it strange? Even if it's not a tuna, why does it look like one? Why does it have body parts that don't really mix well together? The spinal structures, the comb and the shape imply that it needs to keep moving for respiration*, but mind you, the elongated fins would only make that fish slower. And just look at the first encounter...It's just drifting in the water..." She pointed at the frozen frame of the lone creature.

Isabella leaned back, scrutinising the picture as if she was trying to unlock the mystery behind it. She sucked in her lower lip, eyes twitching ever so slightly as she took in every little detail of the creature before her, minutes passing in silence.

Finally, Isabella wrote something down, presenting Reed with a new question scribbled into her notebook.

Let's say you are right...Where are you taking this theory? What's the conclusion?

Reed released a shaky exhale. That was the question, wasn't it? Where was she taking this? Even if it was a Blue-Finned Tuna they were looking at, why did it look like that? She fell back onto the chair, hands dropping onto her sides.

"Honestly...I don't know..."

More scribbling followed.

The theory isn't stupid...I just think it's a bit of a logical leap...

"I know, well... I am more of the microscope gal, but I gave it a try..." she joked awkwardly, earning an amused huff from her companion. Reed's fingers played with the pen resting on the table counter, rolling it back and forth while she thought, going over the details once again for confirmation. Was she that off? It didn't make sense... If it was true, it couldn't be like the tuna evolved in a span of a few weeks, hell, even years. It took millions of years to adapt... Was Noctis really that old? Could it be that these creatures existed here for millions of years? But why hadn't anybody bumped into this creature before? Cannan mentioned it being described in some works, but he never provided any sources. What was Noctis? Was it a mythical Leviathan sent by God to punish sailors? Some cosmic horror that chose to reveal its existence? A brand new animal or a relic from the past?

Her fingers snapped against the pen, the force of her index finger sending it flying across the room and rolling under one of the cots.

"Shit..." she glanced at Isabella, who was looking her up and down with "unimpressed" written all over her face. Reed rolled her eyes, feeling like a child being scolded as she went to retrieve it. She kneeled with a grunt, joints cracking at her limited flexibility as she looked under the cot. The red pen she had been fidgeting with, rolled all the way under the bed, only stopping by some wrinkled old rag blocking its path. Reed reached for the pen, fingers bumping into the damp washcloth. She pulled it out along with the pen, not wanting it to start moulding, but as she pulled the fabric up her things and the floor around her were sprinkled with glass shards.

"What the " Reed tried removing the sharp pieces before they hurt her legs.

"What kind of an idiot does something like this?"

She paused, noticing a cap of the bottle just a bit further away. She reached for the neck of what was once a medicine vial, however, the second she read the label she felt an unexplainable sense of dread bloom at the back of her head. The cap of the bottle was marked with bold black letters spelling "Insulin" across the metal surface.

"Isa?" Reed turned around, showing the cap to the woman by the desk. Isabella frowned, leaving her chair to take a look at the mysterious finding. Her fingers closed around the bottle piece, taking it from Reed before twisting it around.

"Found it, in this under the cot..." Reed pointed at the cloth. Isabella stared at the cap, an unreadable expression marking her features. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she jumped to her feet. Reed watched her perplexed as the woman ran across the room, tearing open cabinet after cabinet. Panic was written all over her face while she scanned the contents of the shelves, clearly looking for something...and soon, she seemed to have found it. Isabella's face drained of colour.

"S...Syringe..." she rasped out, pointing at the cupboard.

"G...Gone..."

Reed quirked her eyebrow up at the words. Isabella seemed exasperated, gesticulating violently at the cupboard.

"G...Gone...Dangerous..." A series of whooping coughs followed, Isabella bending in half from the sheer force of her throat clearing. Reed made a move to stand up, reaching for the woman.

"Hey, take it easy-"

"N-no... Poison..."

"What?" Reed couldn't understand her. Isabella gave her one last desperate look, before zooming past her and back to the table. She slammed her elbows against the desk, pen in hand as she began to scratch words into the pages. She was writing a lot, her hand etching words onto the pristine paper with almost inhuman speed...But...The second Isabella had shown her the note, Reed's world went a little bit darker.

That cloth is not mine. I didn't take anything from that cabinet.

I was watching over you sleeping on that cot.

Nobody from our crew suffers from diabetes, but a syringe and two vials are missing.

Someone had snuck in here when I wasn't here.

The long bony fingers of fear gripped her heart, digging its claws into her soul when she read the last sentence.

Reed

Somebody

Tried

To

Kill

You

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Pixie Cut- A short female hairstyle

Queen- A famous rock band known for its lead singer Freddie Mercury

Harry Potter- the main character of the "Harry Potter" series, is known for having a blot-shaped scar on his forehead.