AN (oct 30); crazy how fast this book is growing! thank you soso much for 25k! 

also, tomorrow is oct 31st. aka halloween (also known as harryween). but more importantly, its rory's birthday. the book timeline isnt quite there yet so she'll be celebrating later on. but in real life, make sure you have a cherry lolipop in her honour.

twitter - normiesandwich & tiktok - normalsandwich69

// 

055. KS-001

...11:51.15... 11:51.14... 11:51.13... 11:51.12...

Rory stared at the red letters on the computer screen, frightened like a Bambi caught in the headlights, unable to look away.

Her name was listed as an ERROR. Did that mean the person behind this didn't know if she was alive? Was she still at risk? Is that why she couldn't go home? Because they would come back and finish the job?

Sweat pooled on the back of her neck.

Her heart raced in her chest.

The airways of her throat suddenly became more restricted - every passing second left her feeling like she was quickly running less and less out of air.

With her mouth running dry, Rory tried to focus on anything other than the screen. But it was impossible, especially when no one else would speak up.

This all has to be a joke, she tried to convince herself.

At any moment, the four boys would burst with laughter, claiming it all to be one giant ruse. Hidden cameras would be pointed out. The walls of the room they were currently in would collapse and reveal a set. An audience would erupt with laughter and cheers.

This isn't reality. It all has to be a fucking joke.

But as the clock continued to count down, the terrifying truth pressed into her mind - this was far from a joke. This was reality.

And while everyone else had their status as ALIVE, she was an ERROR.

ERROR.

"How did you know?"

Rory turned her head, overhearing Dallas ask Kip a question.

"The message just made everything click," Kip replied, eyes remaining focused on the screen. "I treated the code like coordinates, but they were missing links. And-and there were patterns, all in the shape of X's that..." his voice trailed off, falling silent. "But... I don't know what this means."

"It's okay. First, we need to figure out who left that note."

"The night nurse is the only one that went in her room."

Colson made his way to the door, cell phone in hand. "I'm calling Stefano."

While everyone had resumed some level of normalcy and continued business as usual, Rory was still secured to the chair, forced to watch. As more questions swarmed her head, she felt far more confused than ever. And knowing she would never get any answers left her in a state of mental torture. Especially when they all acted like she wasn't even there.

"Stefano found her," Colson announced as he returned to the room. "The night nurse."

"And?"

"Dead. Shot herself."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course she is," he muttered, annoyed by the result. "Now we can't get any answers."

That's what his main concern is? Not the fact that someone was in my room? Leaving a note in his handwriting?

Someone was in her room.

X MARKS THE SPOT.

Her eyes flashed back to the screen.

ERROR.

Someone tried to hurt her. Wanted to hurt her. Wanted to see her gone.

ERROR.

What would happen if her status changed?

DECEASED.

"Get me out of this chair." When no one made any movement, Rory swallowed the bile that crept up her throat and yelled, "GET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING CHAIR!"

Even her yell couldn't cause the men around her to flinch. When she realized that, once again, no one was stepping forward to help her, Rory frantically moved her body from side to side, attempting whatever she could to break free.

"Dallas," Harry whispered, nodding in her direction.

Remaining (unusually) quiet, Dallas walked over with a pocket knife clutched in his hand. Within seconds, the duct tape was cut into shreds, freeing Rory from being restrained to the chair. When everyone's attention returned to their hushed discussion, Rory looked down at her arm. No longer could she put up with pretending it didn't bother her to see her arm wrapped and covered - and so, with no one to stop her, she pulled at the bandages.

When her eyes finally saw her bare skin, suddenly, the poor Bambi wished she had never looked.

Her stitched-together skin created a simple shape: an X.

X MARKS THE SPOT.

There was no accident.

No one broke into her apartment to steal anything.

They didn't hurt her because she fought back.

It was intentional.

She was the X.

"X marks the spot, little Ro," Juliet's voice floated through the air.

Wide-eyed at the sound, Rory turned her head, looking around the room. Juliet was nowhere to be found. Yet the sound of her voice felt so real it messed with her head - just like everything else around her. Her head was being messed with.

A pounding headache began to form.

She's dead, Rory. She didn't hurt you. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead!

"Rory?"

The frightened Bambi was relieved a real person had said her name this time. And thankfully, it came from the only remaining person she liked in this house.

"Are you okay?" Kip asked.

She nodded, forcing a smile. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"About..." her voice trailed, trying to think of something quick. "About how we know that when the timers up, the computer won't... I don't know, explode or something."

"It won't," Harry said shortly.

"How do you know that?"

Without looking at her, he replied, "Because I do, Rory."

She used to love the way her voice sounded coming from his lips. It used to be a reward; getting called her name instead of Bambi. Now her name sounded like a punishment. His tone was demeaning, like he was talking down to her. Treating her like she was a dumb, stupid idiot.

"Really? That's all I get?" she gritted through her teeth. "You don't care to elaborate on how you may know this?"

"Why do you care?"

"W-why do I care?" She was so stunned by his question it caused her to stutter. "How could I not care about this, Harry?"

"You're not involved in this."

Her brows knit in confusion. "Did you hit your fucking head recently? Or have I been insane this entire time to not see how stupid you truly are?"

"Watch your mouth, Rory."

"Or what, Harry? What will you do to me if I don't shut up? Nevermind. I shouldn't ask. You wouldn't tell me anyway."

"I think it's time she knows," Colson muttered.

"No."

"No?" Rory spat in disbelief. "Someone carved an X into my arm, went into my room in your fucking safe house of all places to leave me a note, and now my name is on some hacked computer where-" As Rory's eyes went to the screen, she suddenly fell silent. "Ready to comply..." she whispered to herself. "R-T-C."

"What did you just say?"

"RTC," she repeated. "That's what's carved into the headboard in your guest bedroom, isn't it?"

"How the fuck do you know about that?" When she failed to respond, Harry stepped forward. "Answer me, Rory!"

The frightened girl retreated her steps until her back pressed against the wall. "No."

"Excuse me?"

As the devil in front of her took another step, Rory raised the weapon in her hand - Dallas's pocket knife. "You don't get to keep secrets from me but then demand I tell you the shit that I know."

"Hey!" The victim of the stolen weapon cried from the far side of the room, "That's my favourite knife!"

Harry's lips curved into a devious grin, noticing her newly acquired weapon in hand and the attempt she made to keep her voice in control. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she said softly. As he continued to approach her, Rory nodded to the knife in her hand and added, "I'll stab you."

His grin widened. "Do it."

Rory hesitated as he stood only inches away from the blade. "Either you tell me what's going on, or I'm leaving."

"An ultimatum? Really, Bambi?"

"Yes, you-" she paused as the tip of the blade pressed against his chest. Too stunned to push the sharp edge, Harry did the work for her, taking another step. "You're insane."

His head rolled back, causing Rory to notice a familiar look of pleasure wash across his face - the same one he had during sex.

Oh my god, she thought to herself, He's turned on!

A hint of red appeared under his cotton shirt.

Shit. I want to kiss him so bad.

During that brief moment of distraction, Harry used it to advantage by quickly pushing her hand away with such quick force the pocket knife flew out of her grasp and onto the floor. Thankfully for her, that was enough to vanish the thoughts of kissing him from her mind.

With her back pressed against the wall and her wrists pinned against her chest, Rory had no escape. No way out. She was trapped in the lies, her fear, and the unknown.

No matter how much her heart would constantly ache for him, begging her common sense to betray what was right and forgive him instead, none of it mattered. Harry could tattoo her initials all over his body. He could say numerous times they were permanent. He could buy her all the gifts in the world. None of it changed the fact that he would never trust her enough to tell her the truth.

The twisted grin Harry proudly wore vanished the second he realized Rory was holding back tears. "Don't cry," he whispered. Releasing the hold on her wrists, his hands moved to cup her cheeks. "Bambi, please, don't cry."

Rory parted her lips to speak, but the tear that rolled down her cheek silenced the words. A desire to keep playing pretend burned inside her, making her hate the feeling and what she felt toward him even more. How could those green eyes cause her willpower to instantly vanish?

The edge of forgiveness was a cliff she stood at the edge of. She had been here before, toes curling over the edge months ago when she forgave him in the parking lot. And now, here she was again, forgiveness he didn't do a thing to deserve lingering on the tip of her tongue.

Poor Bambi was falling. Harry was the first person that could make her heart overpower her mind. And that realization sobered her.

"I can't fucking do this anymore."

Her admission was all Rory needed to snap herself back into reality. There was no pretending for them - not now, not ever.

The words she spoke surprised Harry enough to allow her an advantage to pull away from his grasp. "Let your guards shoot me. I don't give a shit," she muttered, making her way to the door. "I'm not staying in this house any longer. And I'm sure as hell not moving in with you!"

"Rory, please!" Harry begged. "I'm doing this to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?" She turned around, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Can't you understand how exhausting this is for me, Harry? I can't forgive you when I don't know why you act the way you do. I can't move in with you when I don't know what I need protection from. And I sure fucking won't pretend that I'm okay with living my life with all these secrets and lies. So unless some miracle happens and everything I need to know is laid out in front of me, nothing will-"

"Fine."

"What?"

"If you promise not to go out there and get yourself shot, I'll answer one question."

One question? The voice in her head bitterly spat.

One is better than none.

"Who are you, Harry?"

The man winced at the question.

"Who is the guy standing in front of me pretending to be some smarter-than-everyone-else-criminal? Huh?"

"Rory," Colson warned.

Letting out an annoyed huff, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she bitterly gritted through her teeth. "Who came into my apartment?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed.

"Bullshit!"

"It's not-"

Rory headed back to the door. "I should have fucking known you wouldn't take how I feel seriously," she said, reaching for the handle. Her movement was interrupted by Harry securing his hand around her wrist. Before he could get a word out, she yelled, "Let me go, Harry!"

"No, you're going to-"

"Yes, I am! Because you're hurting me!" Her hands pushed against his chest, shoving him back. "You want to protect me? Tell me what the fuck is going on! But you can't do that, can you?"

His eyes softened. "I'm trying-"

"Then who came into my apartment?"

"I don't know, Rory!" Harry cried, his voice cracking through the anger, unable to contain himself any longer. It caught everyone off guard - even when in his angriest times, he kept himself far more composed than this. "I don't know," he repeated. "And that's tearing me apart because I don't even know who I'm trying to protect you from! But they know you're a vulnerability for me, and they know..." his voice drifted off momentarily, "A-and they know about my past... because they..."

Rory stepped forward. "Because they, what?" When he didn't respond, she pressed, "Because they, what, Harry?"

Harry's body slumped down into a chair. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he winced in pain - a reaction that took Rory by surprise. Even when he showed up at her apartment all those months ago, covered in bruises and with a wound bleeding profusely that required stitches, he barely let the pain show.

But now, it was undeniably written all over his face. Rory could see it all by how he sat with his shoulders slumped and head down. He twisted the sterling silver ring on his pinkie, muttering words she couldn't hear. As Rory stepped forward, wanting to be by his side, Colson blocked her with his arm and shook his head.

Before Rory could argue with him, Harry's mumbles became evident to her ears.

"I failed her..." he whispered, "I failed to protect her... and they hurt her..."

Dallas was quick to cross the room and take the spot beside Harry. That should be me helping, she wanted to cry, but Cheese's pressing glare was enough to keep her silent.

"I wanted to keep her safe..." Harry continued.

"Haz, stay with me," Dallas warned.

"I failed... I failed... I failed..." With each repetition, his jaw tensed and made the words sound painful to speak out loud. "She's dead because of me."

Rory's eyes widened as a pit in her stomach grew. What if the cries she heard this entire time were over Juliet being dead?

Dallas tried everything he could to keep the long-haired man beside him in the present. "Harry, don't. She's alive. You know this!"

Harry's hand ran over his face, shaking his head. "Her blood is on my hands... the blood they used to write with..."

"W-what's happening?" Rory whispered, looking over at Colson briefly before returning her glance to Harry.

"He's... falling back into old habits."

Crouched down beside Harry, the two started a hushed conversation before Dallas looked at Colson. "Tell her."

Colson only responded with a short nod. "Come on," he instructed the girl.

"What?"

"Out of the room. Let's go."

"Do you really think I'm going off with you when he's..." Rory wasn't sure how to describe Harry's current state, but it wasn't something she could ignore - let alone leave the room.

With a sigh sounding like a mixture of frustration and annoyance, Colson crossed his arms over his chest. "Haven't you been whining about not knowing anything for the past thirty minutes? Now, suddenly, you don't want to know?"

"I do, but I want to help him!"

Before Colson could speak, Harry let out a wail of pain. The man who once commanded a room with a single glare now had his hands tangled in his hair and knees drawn to his chest, rocking back and forth on the ground.

Dallas looked over his shoulder. "Get her out!"

Rory felt her entire body freeze watching the sight in front of her. The sounds of groaning pain filled the room. She wanted to help him - to do anything to make it go away.

"Go with Colson, Ro," Kip said quietly, appearing beside her. "Harry will be okay. We know what to do."

The soft smile received by her friend was enough to distract her and allow Colson to pull her body out of the room. Rory's head kept looking behind her at the now closed door. Every sound of pain Harry cried out made her tense - her heart clenched with indescribable sadness and worry.

"I-Is he going to be okay?"

"Like Kip said, we know what to do."

His lack of a definitive answer didn't help ease her mind. But it already swarmed with far too many questions and confusing thoughts to press him on it any further.

"Sit," Colson instructed, pointing to the chain. Thankfully for both of them, Rory didn't put up a fight and listened to the man. "Do you want some water?"

Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the kitchen. Left sitting in silence, Rory tapped her fingers against the table. She tried to distract herself. However, the noises from down the hall did little to help. Every time he cried out, she winced in pain, her body reacting to the pain he vocalized. As Colson returned with a glass of water, he placed it down in front of her and took his own seat.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"He was being honest about not knowing who came after you. None of us know. Yet."

Rory slowly nodded, focused on the glass of water in front of her. She desperately tried to focus on Colson's words, but the sounds of Harry screaming in agony off in the distance made its way to her ears. And suddenly, all her thoughts were consumed by how she couldn't be there to take his pain away.

"Rory?"

Her head tilted up.

"Smoke?"

She had never craved a cigarette more than she did at that moment. It was the perfect distraction. Licking her lips, she nodded eagerly, eyes widening with excitement as Colson pulled a pack out of his back pocket.

The second the cigarette was resting between her lips, and she lit up the end, some sense of normalcy filled her. An addiction, some would call it. However, she hadn't outwardly expressed her desire to smoke since waking up in this house - knowing Doctor Khan would never allow it anyway. And so, she took this moment of peace, allowing the thick smoke to flow down her throat and coat every inch of her body with a rush that was greatly missed.

Exhaling only reminded her of exactly where she was.

"He was talking about you," Colson said, taking a quick drag. "Back in the room, he was referring to you being dead."

"But I'm not dead."

"I'm quite aware."

"Then why does he say that?"

Colson sighed, letting the flow of smoke escape his mouth. "Failure is just like death in his eyes. He failed to keep you safe, and you ended up getting hurt. He hasn't figured out yet who's after you. Or, I should say, who's after us. And it causes his brain to get... confused."

His words are still coded. The voice in Rory's head reminded her. He's not giving you the truth... yet.

Her head turned, hearing feet shuffle out of the bedroom. The back door opened and closed.

"Where are they going?"

"Just outside." Colson tapped the end of his cigarette, letting the ash fall.

"Why?"

"He likes that bench you sit on for hours on end."

I've never seen him sit out there.

Forcing her attention away from the window, she asked, "Why did whoever's going after him choose to attack me?"

"Because you're a vulnerability for him. He cares about you. Going after you is an attack on him."

"It feels like he doesn't trust me. I don't want to give him an ultimatum to know what's going on, but it's not fair... it's my life getting fucked with too."

"I know how you feel. Trust me, I do," he said, "And you can also believe me when I say that if he didn't want you to know, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." Colson cleared his throat. "Rory, you have to understand where he's coming from... he was built to forget. In his eyes, not knowing anything is a gift. Knowing is a punishment. And remembering is..." another yell was heard in the distance, "Remembering is torture."

Her eyes travelled to the window, watching Harry pace outside. "Why does that happen when he remembers things?"

"Because he was trained to forget so he could work without a conscience. It took him years to remember his parents and parts of his life before the program."

"That sounds horrible."

"With everything he's done and seen, you wouldn't want to remember it either."

Taking a long drag, she leaned back in her chair and slowly released the smoke. "Why was my name on the computer?"

"I don't know."

"What's going to happen when that timer goes off?"

Colson released a heavy sigh. "I don't know."

"Are you worried?"

Rory expected a snarky answer or for him to brush off her question. She never expected to see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he answered, "Yes."

Hearing that instantly made Rory reach forward and grab the carton to pull out another cigarette.

"Dealing with so many unknowns isn't a comforting feeling."

Peering her eyes at Colson as she lit up, she scoffed and sarcastically said, "You're telling me."

"You know you're lucky, right?"

Releasing the smoke, she rolled her eyes. "In what fucking universe?"

"We would solve many problems if we just killed you."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

He shrugged. "I don't care if it does or not - I'm just telling you how it is. He cares about you. He might not show it well all the time, but he does. So, he could eliminate you and dispose of a prevalent problem. Or, he could tell you his past and scare you off, leaving you wanting nothing to do with him."

"What if I don't get scared off?"

"Then you're insane..." a grin spread across his lips, "which makes you one of us."

Placing the cigarette between her lips, her thoughts lingered on his words. Did she really want to be one of them? Maybe if Cheese wasn't involved, it would be far more appealing.

"Did he ever tell you anything about his parents?"

"Just that they were both dead," she said, "Oh, and that he didn't care."

Colson rolled his eyes. "Well, he did care. About his mother, at least. But to sum up his childhood, his dad was an abusive piece of shit that couldn't keep a job because of his drinking and took it out on those at home. But on his tenth birthday, they were free from that monster."

"H-how?"

"You know..." Mimicking the shape of a gun with his hand, he pressed his index and middle finger against his temple and pretended to pull the trigger with his thumb.

"Oh." Rory swallowed. "On his birthday?"

Colson nodded, staying silent to gauge her hesitant actions.

"W-what happened to his mom?"

"Died of cancer a few days after his thirteenth birthday."

They both died around his birthday?

"Is that why he's..." She cleared her throat. "Is that why he's the way he is?"

A smile crept across the man's lips over the innocently naive question. "No. Unfortunately, there's far more reasoning behind why Harry is the way he is." He paused, allowing a few seconds of silence to feel like an eternity before he asked, "Are you ready to know?"

"Do you have to be so dramatic about it?"

"I'm just making sure you're ready."

Putting out the end of her cigarette, Rory did her best to get comfortable. "I'm ready," she said, attempting to sound confident - or, at least, hide the trembles in her voice as best she could.

"Alright, well, as you now know, a few days after his thirteenth birthday, both of Harry's parents were dead. No family was left in his life, so he got ready to be tossed into the foster care system. That was until someone named V showed up, claiming to be a relative," Colson began, "Harry's life drastically changed. He no longer lived in a tiny, run-down house. Instead, he was moved across the country into a large home on a huge property - a place that had electricity, running water, and hot meals. Harry was enrolled in homeschool while he adjusted to his new living situation and got enrolled in therapy. On paper, V was a saving grace in Harry's life. Finally, after a childhood filled with abuse and fear, followed by two deaths within a short time, he was finally given the care needed to heal. Harry began a routine. Every day, he would wake up, eat breakfast, go to therapy, have a school lesson, have lunch, go to therapy, have another school lesson, eat dinner, go to therapy, and then go to bed. Following so far?"

Rory weakly whispered, "Yes."

"V wasn't doing it because they cared about Harry's wellbeing. It was because they were beginning his conditioning," he explained. "V wasn't his family. V was a psychotic person that pretended to be related to Harry to gain his trust, exploit his loneliness and vulnerability, and condition him into being a killer. And he wasn't the only one."

"Wasn't the only one?" she repeated. "V did this to others?"

Colson nodded. "No one knows how many were in the program. Only a select few made it to the end," he said. "The program was in the middle of nowhere and disguised itself as an all-boys private school from thirteen to eighteen. We don't know everything that happened to break him or any of them, for that matter. But I do know that it was gruesome. And a lot of that torture is why that," he pointed to the window, "happens. He can't tell you the story himself because he was forced to forget. To forget his past life. To forget everything they did to rewire his brain, thoughts, and self-control. So, when he tries to recall memories, the side he was forced to become fights him back."

Colson put out his cigarette. "When you ask who Harry is... he doesn't know. He knows parts of himself. But his struggle is forgetting the separation between who Harry is and who Zero-Zero-One is."

Eyes fixed on the window, she watched Harry sit on the bench. He sat with his head still hanging down, but at least his hands were no longer in his hair, trying to rip out each strand.

"Are you okay, Rory?"

"I... I don't know. It just feels like he doesn't trust me," Rory admitted. "I'm sure you think I'm fucking selfish for saying that but-"

"I don't think you're selfish. I understand."

"You do?"

"I do," Colson affirmed. "But I also know that if he didn't trust you, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. His brain fights him whenever he wants to be honest with you. But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be - even if I have to tell you."

Rory hoped she could believe Colson's words. However, knowing this conversation wasn't about her battle over a relationship status, she cleared her throat. "So, what happened after he joined the program?"

"Well, from what we've all pulled together... at thirteen, they focused on psychological torture. Fourteen was physical. Fifteen had both with the beginning of combat training introduced. Each year there was an evaluation to see who was progressing the best, and they were all ranked. And in an environment where the top spot was a prized position to be in, it raised the stakes even more," he explained. "But at sixteen, they faced their first test and were sorted into three groups: green, yellow, or red. Green had the fewest number and was regarded as the top recruits, yellow meant they needed work but could succeed, and red..." his voice trailed off, "No one knows what happened to red."

"What do you mean no one knows?"

"They disappeared. Most assumed they were killed." He gave her a nonchalant shrug. "Harry was always the best recruit, year after year. They nicknamed him Killer on day one, and there's a reason he lived up to that name. When he graduated from the program, V handed him a gun and ordered him to prove his loyalty and strength by turning around and killing the other ten agents in the room."

An audible gasp left Rory's lips. "D-did he?"

"Without hesitation."

"Oh my god."

"It's not like he had much choice. It's what he was built, moulded, and conditioned to do. That's why he became a KILLSHOT."

"Is that what he was called? A..." Rory fell silent, unable to repeat the word.

Colson nodded. "When active, the KILLSHOT program created the deadliest assassins in the world, and they killed some of the most important people without ever leaving a trace. Politicians, CEO, drug lords... you name it. As long as the cheque cleared, it didn't matter who the target was. And after every mission was completed, V would have a new stack of riches, while Harry would have his brain wiped clean and be prepared to do it all over again."

"H-how did V get away with all of this?"

"Money is power. You can get away with anything when you pay off the right people."

Colson's head turned, noticing Dallas walk back inside with Harry. While Dallas made his way over, letting out a heavy breath, Harry remained by the window. Rory watched as he filled a crystal glass with amber-coloured liquid and placed it on a small round side table. He didn't drink it - only stared at it.

"How is he?"

"It's hard to describe. He's in a weird haze still, but he wanted to come inside." Dallas's eyes flickered to Rory for a brief second.

"Alright." He looked at Rory. "Are you okay?"

Rory had no idea how to answer such a loaded question. She tried to nod in response but couldn't tell if her head even moved. Her body felt frozen, her chest tight and constricting her breath.

"Did you tell her the commandments? Those can be quite spooky the first time around."

"No, I didn't."

"What?" Dallas turned to Rory with a laugh and said, "Okay, so at first they would, you know, list our three rules and make us all repeat... A KILLSHOT always follows orders. A KILLSHOT never misses. A KILLSHOT completes all missions without failure. We really did sound like robots," he said, sighing at the memory with a smile, "Anyway, then they would repeat your code words. Something in another language, and they were always random - so the sentence never made any sense. And then your eyes would go blank, you would stand there emotionless and go 'ready to comply,' and boom, you were ready to go crazy. You would have made a good robot too, Rory!"

"Dallas," Colson scolded.

"What?"

"Stop making it sound like a joke."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Jokes are how I deal with my trauma from that program."

"Y-you were in it too?"

"I sure was. But of course, Mr. Zero-Zero-One over there," he motioned behind him, "Became the model student after he passed and raised the IQ test so high I failed. But I was one of the most skilled fighters, so they kept me on to help train," Dallas boasted. "Besides, after Alex... left,"

Alex? Who's Alex?

"I was the only person Harry spoke to before Kip showed up and-"

Rory almost choked on a breath of air. "Kip?"

"Yeah, Kip was in the program too." Dallas raised a brow. "See, this is why I should tell the stories from now on. Colson probably left out all the good stuff, like me and how awesome I was, and probably just bored you to death with the electric shock torture and-"

"Dallas!"

"What?! Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

Rory glanced at Colson. "Were you also in the...?"

"In the program? No."

Oh my god..., she cried out to herself, I have the most in common with... Cheese?!

"Nah, little Colty boy is the only normal one here. The rest of us are special boys."

"Yeah, you're special, alright," Colson muttered.

The red letters flashed through her mind. "Is that what was on the computer? It was your... code names, or whatever?"

HARRY // KS-001 // STATUS: ALIVE

DALLAS // T-01 // STATUS: ALIVE

KIP // PROGRAM RED // STATUS: ALIVE

COLSON // N/A // STATUS: ALIVE

STEFANO // I-01 // STATUS: ALIVE

"Yes."

"Kip was in Program Red?" Rory asked. "Doesn't that mean he was supposed to die?"

Colson let out a sigh. "Yes."

"W-why didn't he... die?"

"We don't know."

"V worked in weird ways," Dallas chimed in. "Kept our brains fried like alphabet soup so we'd never catch on. But let's get back to the fun stuff."

"So, does this mean V is coming after him?"

Dallas laughed. "No. It would actually be way easier if that was the case."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because V is dead."

Her brow furrowed, trying to make sense of it all. "But..."

"Shit, Colty. Did you even tell her any of the important stuff?"

"It's better to ease people into the information, idiot."

Rolling his eyes, Dallas returned his attention to the brunette with a wide smile. "You should have seen Harry back in the day. He was ruthless. A stone-cold killer without a conscious. There's a reason people would pay millions just to get him," he said, leaning back in his chair. "They used to only limit agents to a maximum of one mission per year. They said it was to keep us sane," he rolled his eyes, "but we all know it was only done to keep value high and whatnot. So, in the four years Harry was in the program, he could have only had four missions. Right?"

He waited for Rory to acknowledge the number before continuing. With receiving only a blank stare in response, he continued, adding, "Guess how many he completed?"

She remained silent.

Letting out a frustrated sigh at her lack of interest in playing along, Dallas said, "Thirteen! He completed thirteen missions when he should have completed four at most. He was truly the golden boy of the program. I mean, it's no surprise. The guy killed his dad at ten and framed it as a-"

Harry killed his dad?

"Fucking hell, Dallas! Shut up!"

"Oh, give me a break! We never talk about this with anyone! And it's Rory! She's fine with it! Right?"

Rory sat perfectly still, staring ahead. All the colour drained from her face; it had happened minutes ago, but they didn't notice until now. Pushing her chair back, sounds of the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor filled the room.

A scolding for Dallas was on the tip of Colson's tongue. He was the one that knew what it was like being an outsider looking in on their world. He had seen some shit before in his life, but nothing prepared him for learning about the program. Colson wanted to give her a delicate recap; provide her context without overwhelming her with the details. He knew her mind would run to all types of possibilities regardless, but that wasn't something he could control. What he could control, however, was what he said. Of course, the same could not be said for Dallas.

The other two at the table expected her to leave - to run away and hide while she still could. No one would blame her for wanting to escape from the monsters she was trapped inside these four walls with. Instead of doing the expected, she surprised them. Standing and rounding the table, Rory made her way to the window.

Crossing to the far end of the room, Rory reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder to alert Harry of her presence. His head turned. The moment her eyes connected with his, she was flooded with an odd feeling. It calmed her to meet his glance, yet it pained her to see the apparent hurt that filled his eyes.

No one could imagine the thoughts that ran through his mind; the memories, hurt, and damage. After everything they had been through, Rory's feelings never changed for him. She still wanted to make him feel better - to take away all the hurt and pain he felt. But how could one possibly know where to even start?

Taking a final step towards him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his body into hers. A hug. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it was at least a start. He was tense at first, shocked by her affection. Slowly, his hands sprawled across her back. Harry embraced her with a tight hold, keeping her body close to his.

Placing her hand on the back of his hand, she gripped the collar of his shirt - afraid he could be pulled away at any moment. The fear that it wasn't helping even in the slightest crept into her mind. That was until she felt his heartbeat slow from its frantic state to a normal pace.

Rory made Harry calm.

Pulling her head back slightly, her glance met his. No longer was she looking into green eyes glistening with sadness. She saw hope. And that's all she needed to know Harry was still in there.

Resting her head against his chest, she felt her calmness mix with his - providing a brief moment of solitude. Harry rested his chin on her head, his hold around her body tightening, not wanting to let her or the moment go.

Harry wasn't alone in that feeling. Rory didn't want to let it go, either.

And to ensure he knew it, she whispered a truth she knew he needed to hear,

"You're not defined by what they forced you to become."

XX

...11:00.04... 11:00.03... 11:00.02... 11:00.01...

"AGENTS," a robotic voice boomed throughout the house, "THERE ARE ELEVEN HOURS REMAINING. PLEASE PREPARE FOR YOUR MISSION. ALL AGENTS MUST BE PRESENT WHEN THE CLOCK RUNS OUT. TICK TOCK."

just like rory, everyone will get slowly eased into harry's past. our poor lil wannabe criminal has been through a lot. 

twitter - normiesandwich & tiktok - normalsandwich69