I inhaled sharply as I splashed water on my face.

I repeated the process half a dozen times simply because of how refreshing it felt. I had spent hours inside my workshop and I was starting to get claustrophobic. Usually, I could lose days inside it, but the… unethical direction my work had taken was starting to take its toll.

So, I decided it was best to take a short break.

My reflection in the mirror above the sink wasn't nearly as disheveled as after the fight with Grim, but I felt far more uncertain about who was staring back at me. I could barely even meet my own gaze. My eyes were bloodshot, my skin was pale, and I looked overly sickly. My hair was also getting longer—longer than I ever had let it get before.

I was… tired.

How did I even end up here?

The last few months had passed in the blink of an eye. Lucy was right—I went from dealing with school to participating in lethal, city-wide power struggles. It was a wonder I hadn't crumbled under the pressure… or maybe I already had. Using Richard as a human test subject—regardless of what kind of person he had been—was abhorrent.

What would Mom and Alex think?

I shuddered.

Despite it being for a good cause, I felt like I was crossing a line. How much longer, I wondered, until I did something I was no longer able to justify? Would that ever be the case, or would I just keep coming up with flimsier excuses?

"Whoa, sorry," a voice sounded to my left. I turned to see the bathroom door open and Sam standing in the frame. She looked just as tired as me, but her eyes were still noticeably puffy. Her distress and forced smile were easy to see. "I didn't realize the bathroom was occupied," she chuckled weakly. "Wasn't locked."

"Uh, yeah," I replied, uncertain of how to respond. "I was just downstairs. I came up to have some food, and I felt kind of tired, so I came in here to wash my face." I turned back to the mirror and frowned. I felt more awake and refreshed, but I still looked like I hadn't slept in weeks. "It was a long night last night. I'm not sure if you know what happened."

"Not a clue," Sam muttered tiredly. "You look like shit, by the way."

That much I knew, but she didn't look stellar either. Her hair was a mess, the bags under her bloodshot eyes made her look sleep deprived, and a distinct bruise was forming just under her jaw.

"You don't look so great yourself," I remarked wryly. "How are you holding up? I thought about coming to check on you, but seeing as you're already braving trips out of your bedroom, I can only assume you're doing as well as I could hope."

Sam rolled her eyes.

"I'm not about to hide away in my bedroom, as much as I'd like to. I'm aware I still have responsibilities. I just… I needed some time to myself. Losing Gold hasn't been easy." Sam explained, looking more somber with every word. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how I'm going to contribute now that she's gone."

"Just because you lost Gold doesn't mean you're useless. Even without your Mentalist power, you're still part of this team. You're still at the head of everything if you want to be."

That brought a small smile to her face, and it felt reassuring to see a bit of her normal personality resurface.

"I really need to use the bathroom. We can talk after—so, if you don't mind…" She stepped to the side and gestured for me to leave. I just nodded and stepped by her. "Thanks."

When Sam was done, she walked out into the lounge, dropped onto the couch, kicked her feet up onto a foot rest, and covered up with a blanket.

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two, probably because there was just so much to talk about. I didn't even know where to start. I wanted to tell her about Richard and what he was going through. Then there was that stuff she said about running away and hiding. What had that been all about? Were those part of her real feelings, or something she had rambled just to stall?

"I feel like… yogurt."

I blinked owlishly.

"What?"

"Yogurt," Sam turned her head and fluttered her eyelashes at me. "I'm kinda craving a citrus-y flavor. Lemon or lime… do we have any in the fridge?"

"I…" I turned and looked over toward the kitchen. I didn't have a clue what we had in the fridge, but that's not where I thought this conversation was heading. I was expecting something deeper – for Sam to open up like she had yesterday. She was in a vulnerable position, and I wanted to be there for her. I wasn't expecting… Well, that. "I don't know."

"Can you check for me, please? I just got comfy."

Sam flashed me a wide smile.

I sighed and got up.

"Alright."

It didn't take me long to find it. They were in little plastic cups at the back of the fridge. There were a dozen or so, and some of them were already gone. I took out a lemon one before Sam called out that I could have one too. I grabbed a lime one. I hadn't had lime flavored yogurt before, so I figured I'd try something new.

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the treat as I sat down in a chair next to the couch. I watched as she peeled off the lid and scooped out mouthfuls with the pre-packaged plastic spoon. "Mhm, I swear I could eat a gallon of this stuff, and before you say it, this isn't comfort eating. I just had a craving. I need a little bit of processed sugar in my system after what happened yesterday."

"Ahuh," I murmured. "I wasn't really going to say anything."

"Just making sure."

"Sam, I know it's only been a day, but… are you doing okay?" I asked, struggling to suppress how awkward I sounded. "Gold is… I'm going to do my best to fix it. I made some calls and I think I'm on the right track. Whatever he did to you, I'm going to try and reverse it."

Sam's expression twisted.

"How?"

I stared down at the lime yogurt treat in my hand and frowned. The plastic was translucent, and I could see the greenish substance inside. It twisted my gut that all I could think about right now was Richard floating inside that tank. I hadn't made much progress, but it was early days. It would be some time before I could grasp what Gaea was able to do.

"We went and captured Richard last night. He's downstairs in one of Splicer's stasis tanks."

Sam very slowly spooned her next mouthful of yogurt with the blankest look I had ever seen from her. Usually, I would've thought she was talking with Gold, but now I hadn't the slightest clue. Were Pink and her other personalities giving input now that Gold was gone? How much influence over her actions and thoughts did they actually have? Without Gold, was there an imbalance in her mind?

"Right," Sam said after a few moments of awkward silence. "You're using him as a guinea pig instead of yourself. Good idea. Can't say I liked the idea of you putting yourself inside that machine first. Better mess him up than you," she pursed her lips. "What about Seraphim? Won't she be a problem?"

"She wasn't with him. As far as I know, she was out leading the ECU in circles. We had a mostly clean operation in capturing him."

"Mostly?"

"Pandora was after him too. Unfortunate timing, I think, but we managed to come out on top there."

"Wait, Pandora tried as well?" Sam's eyes narrowed before she slumped her shoulders in defeat. "I feel like there's a connection there, but I can't see it. Gold would've known. Ugh, you can't imagine how frustrating this is. I feel like I've been crippled, which also feels overly dramatic because… well…" she trailed off, giving me guilty glances. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like it's that big of a deal. I haven't a clue what it really feels like to be disabled."

Oh.

She thought she was being insensitive because of my mom. The thought hadn't even occurred to me. Plus, I wouldn't even say her condition is that far off the mark. When you grow used to something that's a part of you for a long time, having it violently ripped away from you couldn't be anything other than 'crippling.'

"You're fine. It's a fair comparison," I offered amicably. "Gold was a part of you, something you used everyday to get by. I imagine trying to suddenly live without it would be very similar to not being able to walk. Just because it's not physical, doesn't mean it's not damaging."

"Hah… yeah, it's been tough. It hasn't even been a day yet, and everything feels so different," Sam mused, staring down at the bottom of her yogurt cup. "It's only going to get worse the longer I'm without her unless you can fix me up, but I doubt you can figure it out overnight. Besides, I'm not sure if I'm totally keen about getting inside one of those tanks."

"It might be the only way," I said softly. "But I would never force you, Sam."

"I know you wouldn't, but that doesn't mean the choice will be mine to make," she sighed, allowing her head to slowly fall back onto a pillow. She ended up staring blankly at the ceiling. "Cyberspace will probably insist, if only to get my most important asset back. Mentalists like Gold are in very short supply. I can't imagine they're particularly happy with my gross negligence right now. I had every opportunity to pull the plug, but I kept pushing because I was convinced I could spin the outcome in my favor."

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"You said you were going to try a different approach with her. What was it?" I asked.

Sam scoffed.

"Does it even matter? Everything has gone to shit. Seraphim's going to lose her mind any day now and Gold is gone, along with pretty much every plan we were cooking up," an exasperated groan escaped her throat as she rubbed her eyes. "I had the beginnings of something worked out for your little dinner date with Wildfire. I wish I could tell you the details, but it's all so hazy now. Something to do with infiltration, I think," she paused for a moment. "I was considering having you infiltrate their ranks… maybe."

"Really?" I frowned as I tried to piece together how that would work. "I'm not sure I could pull that off, and wouldn't that cut into the time I would be able to spend here? I'm splitting my time too much as it is."

"I said it was the beginning of something, not that it was entirely fleshed out. I hadn't worked out the specifics."

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with him in a couple of nights. When were you going to find the time to finish that plan? I've got people telling me I'm overworked, but you're worse off than I am."

"Don't," Sam warned with another tired groan. "Don't get on my case about this right now. None of it matters anyway. I can't be trusted to make a plan with the way I am now. I'll only fuck everything up. We'll have to take our cues from Cyberspace and whatever Mentalist resources they have until my issue is resolved… if it ever is."

I sighed and leaned back into my chair.

I guess I was going to have to defer to Cyberspace here, or do nothing and just try to have a cordial dinner. It felt like a waste of time if I didn't get anything out of it, but I didn't really have anything to work toward.

"You can't screw anything up as badly as me," I said playfully. "But I suppose you're right on the money there. Right now, the best bet is taking cues from Cyberspace for this. I'm starting to wish I followed Francis' advice and stayed in my lane. I wouldn't have this stress if I just tried to keep a low-profile. There was no point trying to take the initiative because it hasn't gotten us anywhere."

"I'm pretty sure I told you to stop stressing about that," Sam said dryly. "You saw an opportunity and took it. It wasn't the greatest shot, but hey, it landed. I'm sure something will come of it. Same thing with Splicer's stuff, and look how well that's turning out. If you didn't I would be even more mopey. At least there's hope of getting Gold back."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Just because I lost Gold, doesn't mean that's fact has changed," Sam wiggled her plastic spoon in my direction. "Woman's intuition. That's not a superpower anyone can take from me."

"Ahuh," I nodded wryly. "Right, and what does your spectacular woman's intuition say about this dinner, ya know, the one involving a fanatical evohuman supremacist that can turn me, my mother, and my whole house into a pile of ashes at the drop of a hat?"

"Mhm… hm, let me think of that for a second—ah, yep. It's coming to me. You…" she paused for dramatic effect. "Are a big dummy, dum-dum," Sam's grin returned with a vengeance. "See? It totally works. Handy, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," I drawled with a smile. "I'm not a girl."

"Then it's a good thing you've got me!" Sam kicked off her blanket and climbed back to her feet. She winced a little as she stretched out and yawned. "Ooh, ouch. Muscles are still a bit sore. Even with Red in the driver's seat, taking that hit from Nikki was not pleasant. Running for cover with Pink didn't do my legs any favors either," she lifted and jiggled each leg. "I've been so sedentary since our operation on Grim. The only muscle I've been using is the one in my noggin!"

I gave her a skeptical look. I expected her to take some more time to recover, but maybe that just wasn't how she rolled.

"Is this a roundabout way of telling me that you're up for some work?"

"Well, I can go back to bed and cry for the next few days, pretending the world and the rest of the universe will pause long enough for me to get my shit together… OR, I can bottle up all my pain and misery right now and uncap it later when there's actually time to process it," Sam explained in rapid-fire. When she finished, she took a breath and smiled. "I can figure out something better later."

I rolled my eyes.

"If you need time, take it. I've got things handled right now," I said, trying to sound confident. "Even if you think I don't, that's not a reason not to take a few days to just… I don't know, relax?"

Sam's smile turned melancholic.

"Max, I only lost Gold yesterday. Before that, I could feel that the city was on a razor's edge. I can't relax when Pandora's about to start another war, when Ajax's war machines are still marching around the streets, when those earthquakes are getting bigger and more frequent. I've had my moment—that's all I get. I've cried, I've mourned. It's time I get back to work. That's what Gold would be saying."

She wasn't understanding. I needed to open her eyes to what Gold really was.

"Have you considered that what Gold said wasn't always the best thing for you? You need to take some time," I shook my head, unable to believe these words were coming out of my mouth. "Listen to me. Pot meet kettle, I wish I could take my own advice. I'm struggling to slow down too, but you were attacked. He…" I trailed off as Sam's expression softened. "He actually hurt you."

"I've been hurt before. It's nothing new."

"Not like this," I countered. "You haven't been hurt like this. Tell me I'm wrong."

Sam closed her eyes and slowly took a breath before shaking her head.

"No, you're right. But that doesn't mean I can just stop. Please believe me when I say that I'm capable."

"You've had a day—one night. You surely need more time than that?"

"Maybe?" Sam gave a half-hearted shrug. "I would love nothing more than to go back to bed, but that's not me. It's never been me. Come on, Max. Don't make this difficult. Please, just support me and the decisions I make. You know I would do the same for you."

I frowned and looked away. It felt like she was pushing herself, and there was no way to get her to stop.

"I'm just concerned."

"I know and—" she paused, almost seemingly tripping over her own words. "—and that's really sweet. Like, uh, disgustingly so— disgustingly sweet! I didn't mean it like that— ugh, I'm so tired. Can we just rewind a few seconds?" Sam groaned, taking another breath. "I'm very grateful for your concern, Max. It feels nice to know that you care so much, but I got this."

Something about this didn't sit right with me. Sam already felt like she was stretched thin with Gold, and now, after a violent attack that left her with what could only be described as a handicap, she was claiming she was ready to get back into the swing of things? I didn't like it.

"Sam—"

"Max." She said with an easy smile. "It's—I'm fine. Really."

I knew the right thing to do would have been to hold my ground, but that wouldn't get us anywhere.

"Alright," I relented. "You get attacked and seriously damaged, yet you're already springing back into all this in just a day. Doesn't feel right to me. You should take your time to process, but it's your decision," I raised my hands to surrender the debate.

Sam stepped forward, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a hug. It caught me by surprise, especially when her grip tightened.

"I appreciate it," she whispered. "I really do." We separated, and for some reason, I felt uncomfortably colder. "I want to see Richard. You said he was downstairs, right?"

"I—yeah," I shook away the momentary shock I was feeling. "You don't have to worry about him using his power. Francis took care of that."

I left that up to her interpretation.

"Let's have a look then."

I followed after her, descending the stairs back into my workshop. Splicer's equipment stood out from the rest, so it was pretty easy for her to find it. Her arms crossed over her chest as she came to a stop. I came up next to her, and she regarded me with a small nod.

"Not a pretty sight."

"No," I agreed. "He might be scum of the earth, but it still feels wrong."

"He deserves this," Sam said flatly. "He chose to do the things he did, and those choices led him to me, which ultimately led you to him. Now he's here," she inhaled sharply and growled. "I hope whatever you're doing to him hurts. I hope he experiences the hell he's putting his victims through."

My hands felt sweaty as I approached the tank's console. I began pulling up his vitals, along with what I was forcing his body to undergo. My brief experimentation so far revealed that Splicer hadn't just been torturing his subjects for fun. The different… treatments made certain parts of the body react involuntarily, including powers. Richard was a Mentalist, so his power responded significantly to stimuli around his head. He also seemed to be responding to anything involving his vocal cords and, to a lesser extent, his lungs. Probably due to how his power manifested.

"I'm still figuring out the basics," I said, gesturing to the readings. Sam came and looked over my shoulder. "There's certain things I need to look out for, though I have noticed this here," I pointed to the dots on a timelapse graphic. "These are signals. I think they show when he tries to activate his power."

"Hm…" Sam hummed before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I can't really help here. I wish I could. It all looks like gibberish. Although… if this is a timelapse, it looks like there's some sort of pattern there," she pointed to the space between the anomalous dots. "But I haven't a clue what that means."

"Neither. I've only subjected him to one cycle. I'm going to need more data before I can figure out what it means – if it means anything," I murmured. "Even if I do figure it out, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that information."

"Maybe it'll make sense once you figure out the pattern?" Sam suggested, looking back at Richard. "In the meantime, I'm just happy knowing he's off the street," she paused for a moment. "Can he hear us?"

"No," I said. "The stasis tank and the fluid keep him in a coma. He'll be experiencing what Mia did."

"He'll barely remember any of it then," Sam concluded with a very displeased frown. "Is there any way to wake him up?"

"Not as far as I know," I replied. "I think it's best not to anyway. Mia's shared enough to know that even being in a coma isn't a pleasant experience. She still has phantom pains and nightmares about being trapped. So it's not like Richard is completely unaware."

Sam continued to stare at the tank before a small smile curled onto her lips.

"You guys really messed him up. I don't remember him looking like he headbutted a brick wall. That eye looks nasty as well," she clicked her tongue. "I guess he got his fair share of pain before being shoved in there. I can live with that."

"Francis cut out his tongue," I said, causing Sam to raise an eyebrow. "The eye and some of the other stuff was me. He wasn't being very cooperative when Liam and I interrogated him."

"Oh? How did you guys manage that?"

"Simple yes or no questions, communicated through blinking. Liam had him restrained and gagged the whole time," I answered. "He tried to skimp out on a few questions but my lie detector caught him."

"Lie detector?" Sam looked impressed. "I bet that'll come in handy in future."

"It was the best I could come up with on short notice." I looked back at Richard, feeling a renewal of resolve. "I'm going to figure this out, Sam. I promise. We'll get Gold back."

She rewarded my sincerity with a weak smile.

"I know you'll do your best."

I would. She saved my life back when the Cains almost got to me.

Now, it was time to repay the favor.

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