Ian knew what it felt like to descend into madness. Before he and the receptors became good acquaintances, he'd felt this way. This time was worse...because he was aware of all of it.

He managed one staggering step before his knees buckled.

"Rinn," he pleaded. "Rinnie.... Love, I...."

The next attempt at speaking left his jaw vibrating. It took all his power to look up.

Rinn's cold expression rivaled any enemy he had faced till now.

"Unlock this cell," she demanded. "Now."

Ian turned his trembling head from right to left, surveying the room. Somehow, she was up and moving but what concerned him was his weaponry. He had a lot of firepower in here. All disassembled. All except the gun he'd used on the bots.

Her thoughts weren't far off from his because she walked past him to pick the gun up. When she returned, she took it apart. Her movements should have stopped but her reassembly of the weapon left him breathless.

Instead of requiring two hands, it now wrapped around her right forearm. She raised it to him.

"Hey, dumbass. I said open this cell." Her hateful glare softened for the first time. "And I'll at least stave off the release of those things."

Body trembling, Ian tried to lift his arms. The two thin metal strips on the backs of his hands stood prominent against his skin.

"It's okay," Ian concluded. "Rinnie...it's okay. Ending like this won't matter. Not if it's for you."

Cold steel pressed against his forehead. "You wanna try your luck?" She leaned in, hissing, "Open this fucking cell."

He stared past her, defeated. If he released the locks and let anyone come and go, she'd leave. Considering what she'd just done to him, when the receptors were done and he was dead, she'd be stuck in here.

"It never felt good trying to keep you," Ian lamented. Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them back. "Every time I ever have, I lost you."

The cannon sagged and Rinn took a step back.

Staring past her, Ian told her the code she needed. It took a minute more for him to realize she hadn't moved. He risked meeting eyes with her.

He had her attention. "Up there, up Topside, I know it's my fault," he said, "I know me asking what I did was why I lost you. Your friendship should have been enough—it was enough. It would have been enough for me, Rinnie. Don't you get that?" This time, she was the one to shake and he said, "But it's kinda romantic that it's you who puts me down, finally. It wasn't for lack of trying on my part."

Rinn raised and lowered the weapon again and again.

"Let me ask you one question...."

Another one of her test questions, Ian decided. He tried to pay attention.

"What's my most prized possession?"

A slow smile formed on Ian's face. "My watch that I wore in here from Ireland that I gave to you in my weak attempt at chivalry."

The answer failed to satisfy her, and she raised the gun again.

"And where is it now?"

Ian fought to smile. The answer made him laugh; he was bitter. "Lost it in a card game, Rinnie. What else?"

The world fell silent for ages. She closed her eyes and let her arms sag. The way she crumbled to the floor was unreal.

At this moment, it finally occurred to him that she used all her power to stand in the first place. Ian could relate as he found himself unable to move from the pain.

He felt sorry for her when she dragged herself toward him and pulled him close.

"Ian?" Doubtful, she asked, "You're really Ian?"

As soft as that voice was, it wouldn't do much for the agony he was in or the suffering yet to come. Still, Ian was thankful.

"I answered right, then?"

"Idiot," Rin whispered. "You're not even close. You."

Ian tried to return the embrace but it was to no avail. "What?"

"Some people in the Colony can read your thoughts. If you'd actually answered correct, I'd know this was all fake. And I would have shot you in the damn face." Her voice was muffled by his neck when she said, "The answer is you, you moron. You're what's dearest to me."

The next shot of pain had Ian arching involuntarily. "Get back," he begged.

But she held on. Her face buried in his throat, she pulled him close. This weak grip was a stark contrast to the woman who'd just shot adrenaline into him without mercy.

"No." Ian shoved her away. He waited for her to respond but she only watched him in fear. It took some time, but he could finally see, her arms flopping were her attempts of willing her body to move.

Now that her flight or fight had worn off, she looked as frail and broken as he felt.

The receptors were on full blast.

"Ian..." she pleaded but she didn't have to do that.

It took everything out of Ian to rise to his feet. He rushed to the door, grabbed the black bag there and rummaged through it for the box of medicine. The allotment wasn't much, but it would do. He wasn't sure what sort of affect they would have mixed with what Rinn had shot into him, but he didn't care. This anxiety medicine would be better than the alternative.

A slow death by the receptors was what most people wished for. In reality, a big explosion marked their notoriety. Staying in there was too risky.

"Ian?"

Rinn.

Rinn was the reason Ian had missed work for three days—the reason he'd balked at getting his allotment for three days. It took its toll.

The receptors were charged, and try as he might, they refused to fade. Losing control now would mean no going back. Being without the medicine for so long would lead to a strong reaction; he would be rendered unresponsive for hours until his body got used to them again.

It terrified him to be that way in front of Rinn—especially since Rinn had always warned him about not getting himself into such stupid situations. Being a mess for a few hours was far better than what would happen if he had nothing at all, though, so he opened the box. He felt sick with himself for smiling like a pet about to get his chow.

The box was empty.

He was so shocked that he simply stared at it for a long time before finally turning the container upside down. It was definitely, totally...empty.

"What. The. Hell?" Ian asked, still in a state of disbelief. He rubbed his temple, pausing to look at the box in his left hand again. He turned it upside down once more. "What the hell?"

It was irrational to look in the container again, but he did just that. Then he emptied the bag and sifted through it. No tablets. He regretted his earlier complaint about being stiffed a few pills. At this point he'd settle for just one—half of one, even. Anything he could get his hands on would be better than this.

He managed to stop shivering, at least, but he also broke out in a sweat.

Somewhere in his mind, he came to the conclusion that he'd misplaced the tablets, so he picked his head up and looked across the room.

Rinn. Maybe she had them. But how? And what was he supposed to do? Risk the receptors going off as he marched over there and strip searched her?

The very idea let Ian know he'd hit a new low—and it was a sobering one.

Wherever they were, the tablets weren't here. That was the least of his worries.

Home was safe at least and he took comfort in knowing. Now Rinn had the code...she could come and go. Ian could barely move but he turned to look at the bathroom. Maybe it'd be enough if the receptors went off in there. She'd be safe. His left hand against the wall, he dragged himself up to stand, intent on giving Rinn distance.

She was safe. It had to count for something.

A gasp behind him came from Rinn. He was slow to turn but did so only to stifle a yelp of his own.

A man stood in front of the now opened front door.

"Got it. Got the override," someone said.

Ian's heart leapt and plummeted. He got into action, intent on ramming the bastard if he had to. The man had the same idea but took one step forward—a mistake he regretted. The speed with which the door slid shut amazed even Ian.

The would-be attacker wailed. The cracking sound meant that leg would need more than just a few repairs. The door opened again, allowing the man to fall back on his ass, bawling in agony.

When the door closed this time, it was much slower. It afforded Ian a glance at the small army of men scurrying to his threshold.

"Serves you right for trying to fiddle with the System. You know the System's flawless," one of the injured man's rescuers scolded.

"I had it overridden," the man lamented. "It was an override. I used the backup key code. I didn't hack it. I swear."

The door shut with a whomp sound. The electric field was up.

"Norman?" Ian begged to be right.

"It won't keep them back for long. There are a good fifty. Why?"

The edge on that last word made Ian feel cold. Why? Why indeed. Why? Why was he under attack?

Ian tried to make sense of it, but then he understood. Norman wasn't asking, he was telling—and he wanted that confirmation. Ian'd broken a rule.

"Because I let the ELETEs see Rinn—let Met see her." Face in hands, Ian crouched down and fought to steady his beating heart. Met.... Not just Met, but Val and those damn protocols. There was a report by now, a memo. Something crooks could intercept and follow. But why? "Norman, I can barely move. And I don't got no medicine."

"I can only help you this once. Touch the wall. I can only syphon a few minutes of the charges."

More than grateful, Ian obeyed those instructions. The tingling in the back of his spine faded, but not nearly as much as was normal—it barely helped. Still, he could now fight.

Norman. Ian could make it out of this. Norman was on his side.

"Brace yourself."

Boom.

The room rocked. The next explosion got Ian up. He finally found the courage to focus on Rinn. He needed to get her away from that wall. Only...he didn't know how. He'd have to pick her up. The fight outside seemed less daunting a task in comparison.

The next boom came from the door. Something rammed it. The design of the hall meant that was no easy task. The main door stood across from a narrow wall. Whatever those people were using to get the job done was sophisticated.

Why? Why was all this happening?

"Rinnie, I'm gonna come get you. All right? I'm gonna come get you and you can't push me back."

But when Ian approached her, the helplessness in her gaze caught him off guard. He almost lost his nerve, but he certainly did when she...stood.

The woman's movements were shaky and weak but...she stood.

"Holy shit, Rinn." Ian still marveled. It wasn't his imagination. The memories rushed back to him—namely, the attempted murder via adrenaline. She still had energy after all that? Her actions, rather than impress, terrified him. She could walk. That meant...she could run.

Another bang at the door made Ian look up. "Norm, how long before the guards come?"

"I haven't summoned the guards," the System admitted.

Those words made Ian stand to his full height. No guards were coming. No one was coming. One glance at Rinn and her look of terror made Ian answer that riddle for himself: because of Rinn.

Ian rushed to the wall by the door. Another bang made the interface there shake but he persevered.

Carlos's face came into view. "Well look who's calling me, the man who hung up in my face."

"I need help. I've got robbers at my door."

"That's unlikely," Carlos chided.

A dent formed in the door and Ian nearly wet himself. He was going to die. He was going to die for absolutely nothing. And then he looked back at Rinn and felt cheated all over again. He was going to die after finally reviving her. And what would happen to her?

On the screen, Carlos sat back, disinterested. Ian thought to make another plea but a toned body pushed him aside. Rinn took Ian's place, staring at the interface.

The sight of her had Carlos nearly falling over.

Rinn ignored him and began to type. The room rocked with the next bang, an explosion.

Silent, Rinn kept typing. Ian wanted to ask her who she was calling but Carlos appeared again.

"You've seen my face," Rinn warned him. "And the guards are about to see yours."

There was one final bang at the door then silence.

Carlos looked pale, eyes wide, mouth agape.

No sound came after that. In time Carlos bowed his head and his image faded.

Rinn continued to type. When she was finally finished, she stared at the wall interface.

"I need to know your name," she said. "All of it. I need your entire name. The resident on this place reads, Tellman. I need your name."

Ian shivered. His thoughts raced a mile a minute. He wanted to ask her what she'd done to stop the attack. He wanted to ask her what she'd done after said attack stopped. But all he could do was focus on one thing.

"I ain't telling my name," Ian confessed. "That's too private. I keep mine safe."

She raised her hand to the interface and Ian saw it. A request for the authorities was pending approval. ELETE.

"Wait," Ian begged. "Please. Wait. Just hear me out."

Deep down he knew she wouldn't. With the way she acted and the way things unfolded, he half mistook her for that artificial E who'd copied Rinn's looks. And if that was true, giving up his entire name to her was suicide.

He tried to look at it from her perspective. What if she thought of him in the same manner? What if to her he was an artificial E psycho? He took a leap of faith.

"Cillian Broderick. Cillian Sabastian Broderick. I'm from Ireland. My mother's name is Lily-Anne—"

"Morran." Rinn braced herself forward against the wall, head hung. "Her name's Lily-Anne Morran. Dear God in heaven. Ian." She looked back at him, terror written on her face. "It's you. It is you." She studied him, less than pleased at her findings. "And look at you. What have you done to yourself? Wearing a belt and shoelaces."

Ian's stomach dropped. He'd half-forgotten the significance of those. He kept his hands low in an effort to conceal any traces of the receptors.

But she believed him. She recognized him and for that he was thankful.

"It's been five years?" Rinn struggled to make sense of it.

"Five very long years.... Yes." Ian let out a sigh of relief. "But you're back now. What'd you do to Carlos? He's sometimes abrasive, but he's not a bad guy. How'd you get the attack to stop?"

Rinn still held the wall to steady herself. "Those weren't robbers, Ian. They were debt collectors. The first thing they do is jam frequencies but leave one channel open—to the one you owe. The fact that you could call him meant he was the problem." Her breathing grew ragged. "What do you owe him?"

Ian stood stunned. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"You've got it wrong, Rinnie. If I don't work, he doesn't get anything. He gets paid off my jobs, not me. I recently fucked one up, but he got paid before the attempt. Deadbeats like me fuck up all the time, though."

At the silence, despite the chaos just moments prior, Ian felt reborn. Rinn was back. She was talking and she was back.

"It's you. Fucking hell, Bas. It's you. What the hell happened to you?"

"Five years without you happened to me." Rinn's gentle voice and somber expression made Ian feel even more lightheaded. "I'm grateful you remember me."

"Remember you? You act like anybody can ever forget you. I didn't know it was you—not until the words gamble, debt collectors and irresponsible as hell came into play. That's basically you in a nutshell. I'm guessing a portal outta this place is impossible."

Ian closed his eyes, thankful to hear her voice despite his terror.

"Pretty," he muttered to himself. "Norman's not allowed to do that. He's forbidden to let me travel the System unmanned." Muscles aching, Ian allowed himself to slide to the floor.

"Rinnie...." Ian smiled at the sight of her. "God, I missed you. I've never missed nobody like I missed you." He closed his eyes. "You went away. When you didn't come back, I thought you'd left, that you'd escaped without me. That's what I thought. But I didn't blame you. And then when they brought you back that night, the way...the way they just threw your body down. Just threw you into our room and left." His breathing labored, he whispered, "Rinnie, I thought you'd left. That you'd escaped without me."

A quiet lulled over them for so long that Ian started to doubt his friend's presence.

Rinn's voice cracked when she answered.

"I did, Bas. That's exactly what I did." Rinn watched him unabashed. "You never can stay the fuck out of trouble, can you? You've got receptors now?"

Ian calmed, but not by much. "Yeah."

"And you just neutralized a charge? So how long before they kick in and you're no longer a functioning dysfunction again?"

"I'm fine now. Just a bit dazed from the past few days." Shame withered Ian's voice down to a whisper. "Now we just gotta figure out how to get outta here...and where we can go. With your way off the island, we'll be fine. But that'll take time and credits."

"Right." Rinn stared at him, puzzled.

She pressed the send order.

It took a moment for the System to announce, "Guards requested. Sorry, Tell. That rudimentary protocol bypasses the System. I cannot intercept it."

Still braced forward against the wall, Rinn said, "Who the hell is that?"

But Ian was too stunned to answer. "You called the guards," he said. "You called the guards. Why?"

Rather than talk, Rinn turned and pressed her back against the wall. She slid to the floor, hands rubbing her face.

Ian had never thought of Rinn as girly, though there were times she'd mothered him in the past. She was vulnerable, though, and those rare occasions when she showed that side of her were ones he cherished.

Today was the first day he could remember seeing tears in her eyes.

"I can't do this again." She picked her head up and focused on him. "Five years? You say it's been five years." Arms extended, she shrugged. "And nothing's changed, Bassy. Nothing's changed. You're out there wreaking havoc, throwing caution to the wind, getting us into shit." Her voice petered down to a whisper. "And I can't follow you into hell this time."

His heart ached for her and he risked approaching. When she grabbed for his arm, he sat on her side and pulled her close.

The betrayal of her requesting the guards was still fresh but having her...feeling that body quiver against his own, he was both terrified and grateful.

"It wouldn't be for long," he assured her. "I'll...I'll do something, do a job, finish the job and get off Carlos's client's shitlist. Then...get in a few fights, you know, with your way out...." She cried harder so he changed the subject. "But I've got you Rinnie, and I don't need nothing else."

A silence stretched out for ages. He waited for her to agree, to maybe cheer up, or even suggest they make a speedy escape before the guards arrived.

"You don't have me, Bassy. What happened to me before; it'll happen to me again and you'll spend another lifetime fighting a battle you can't win."

Ian's gut roiled. "It won't happen. If you tell me, I can stop it."

But she didn't answer. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and he closed his eyes. She was cruel. Giving him both heaven and hell in one embrace was nothing but cruelty.

The coma.... Would she really go back into a coma?

A darkness fell over Ian and he squeezed her tight. He needed that more for himself.

"Take ELETE," Rinn begged. "It's amazing that you got in. It's amazing. So take it." She leaned away until their eyes met. "You say you feel something for me—"

"I fucking love you," Ian confessed. She went rigid but he couldn't keep from glancing at her lips as he whispered again, "I fucking love you. You fall asleep, I'm fucking waking you back up. You die, I'm going to hell to find you."

He'd spoken gentle words but she teared up.

"Then take ELETE. Let them escort you out of here. Let them register you. You'll be safe then. You'll have room, board, safety."

Ian trembled, everything in him screaming against those words—they were devastating.

"But your way out...." At the next tear, he wet his lips. "If you think it's too dangerous, don't worry. I'm strong now. I can face anything." Those pleading brown eyes never left him so he focused on something he wanted more. "Then don't risk the coma. Tell me what happened. Tell me what happened so I can help you. You and me'll get us someplace small and nice. Yeah? You—"

Her soft lips pressed against his. It wasn't hard, or forceful, or even passionate but it was the first time they'd kissed. She tasted sweet. He lost all reason after that.

"If you feel anything for me," Rinn said, "be safe for me. Go to the ELETEs. Please. They are the only way you're safely leaving this house."

"Rinnie. Meet me halfway," he pleaded. "It's been five years."

But instead of even looking him in the eye, she lowered her gaze.

"Meet me halfway," Ian repeated. "We still have time. And we should go. We should get outta here before those ELETEs come. You—"

"I don't have a branding tattoo," Rinn said, meeting his gaze. "Right? That's why you're in such a hurry to make yourself scarce."

Stunned, Ian puzzled over her anger.

"I did that for you. When I got my own brand, the bastard in line's talking about how nobody with a tattoo'll ever leave the Colony. Coming from Topside, I can see why that'd be appealing—I'd die before going back up there. But for me—for us...." The word lingered until he said, "The Colony'd hunt us to our dying day."

"Now they'd just hunt you instead."

Feeling struck, Ian gave no rebuttal.

Rinn shook her head, annoyed. "There's no way that property thing worked for long."

The fact that she knew that much was troubling, but he concluded that he couldn't be all that shocked as of now considering what she did know about the Colony.

"Temporary tats. Right?" Rinn looked ready to spit. "No wonder all you can afford is a cell. It's three months of credits for one temp-ta."

Grumbling, Ian confessed, "Five."

Rinn let out a deep sigh. "Bassy...." She pressed their cheeks together then brushed her lips against his yet again. "Five years of this? You've been doing this to yourself for five years now?"

"I did it for you." Ian trembled. He focused on her lips again and leaned in. A pop sound from the door told him their time was up. There was no need to look; the guards had come.