You know, I've had this chapter sitting in my documents for like six months and I haven't done anything with it, so I decided randomly to finish it up. XD

Enjoy~

Crash after crash after crash, Jay kept smashing the computer—what they called the Command Center—until it was just a heap of scrap metal and sparking wires, and even then he kept going, feeling the sweat drip down his back and neck, knowing that with each strike of the wrench, he was slowly taking off the shackles that had bound him to this place.

"Jay." He heard Rosalie's soft voice as if from a distance.

A piece of metal zinged off of the main portion of the panel, slicing a shallow groove down his knuckles. He bit his lip, narrowing his eyes against the sting of pain.

His dæmon didn't try and stop him. They were as connected to this monstrosity, this Bisector, as they were to each other.

A hand rested gently but firmly on his upper arm. "That's enough," Rosalie said, tightening her fingers.

Jay looked at her mutely, then straightened, feeling the strain on his back muscles. He set the wrench down softly on the table next to a few jagged pieces of glass. "This will only stop the computer," he told her, not meeting her gaze. "We need to destroy the machine, too."

"Let's do it."

Jay almost grinned to himself. Rosalie didn't ask "how" or "why," never questioning the ability to do something. She always seemed to think he knew what he was doing, even when he felt lost himself. It was one of the many things that drew him to her. "We can try and get it with the sprinkler system. Look around for a lighter or something."

She turned away, her dæmon sniffing around with his keen ferret nose.

Jay watched her silently for a moment. What must she think of him? She knew the terrible truth now—that it was his idea in the first place to build the Bisector. She must think he was scum, a murderer—but once again, he got the feeling that he didn't know what she was thinking. Any normal person would be disgusted with him. But Rosalie was anything but normal with her still-changing dæmon.

She wasn't what most people would call beautiful, he supposed, but there was something in the way she looked at people, how she made eye contact with someone when they were speaking. It made him feel important somehow, like what he was saying had meaning.

"I found one!" Rosalie hurried back with a small blue lighter—one of Ted's Bics—and held it out to him, a small smile on her face. "I'll let you do the honors."

"Why don't you do it?" he suggested, afraid that he was going to get cold-feet about destroying the machine. His father had put so much work into it... No, he stopped himself. Don't think of him that way anymore.

"Well, I don't know how to use them," she admitted. "Neither of my parents smoked."

Jay reached to take it from her, but she gasped and grabbed his hand.

"You're bleeding," she pointed out.

Turning his hand, Jay saw the blood dripping off the ends of his fingers. A sliver of metal gleamed out of the side of his palm. "Ow," he said, surprised. "Well, it's not a big deal. Let's finish this first."

"You'll get gangrene or something," she threatened.

Jay laughed. "I think that's the least of our problems. Give it here." He took the little lighter out of her hand, clicking it to life. The tiny flame that flickered from the Bic looked insignificant.

"The heat will be what sets it off," Kunai told him, her tiny scorpion voice as familiar as his own. "The heat will travel higher than the flame."

"Yeah," he responded, clambering on top of the Bisector's tank. The metal was icy-cold to the touch. "You wanna sit this one out?"

"I'll be fine." But she didn't sound sure.

Reaching up, he gently pulled her tiny legs out of his sweater's material. Ignoring her squeaky protests, he laid her gently on the metal to the side of his feet. "There. I'm sure you'd prefer not to get burned."

She made a little hmph! of indignation before relaxing back, her tiny eyes like black beads.

With a quick rasp, Jay lit the lighter, flicking it easily into a flame.

It didn't take long for the alarm to sound. It was a loud, blaring two-note horn, repeating itself ear-shatteringly every two seconds.

"Alright!" he yelled to Rosalie over the noise, clapping his hands over his ears. "Any second now!"

She bent and scooped up her dæmon, holding the lithe cobra close to her chest. She nodded, eyes locked on his.

There was a light rumbling sound before the pipes exploded around them, showering them with the dirty, foul-smelling water. Jay coughed and sheltered Kunai from the deluge, letting her skitter inside his shirt.

"Let's go!" Rosalie called, heading toward the door. "We have to get out of here before they find us."

Jay nodded wearily in agreement, already remembering those sharp orange-yellow eyes of his father's dæmon. She had always scared him, frightening him on purpose sometimes. To keep him loyal to his father—to keep him obedient. Pinning her down to the ground with his boot and hearing her be terrified was the most satisfying thing he'd ever done.

"Do you have a cellphone?" he asked Rosalie while they ran down the hallway, taking a right to lead them closer to the edge of the building.

She shook her head. "Not with me. I left it in my backpack in the car."

He gritted his teeth. "That makes things a little more difficult. We need to find a phone." He stopped suddenly, reaching out to grab her arm. "Wait, Rosalie."

"What is it?" She turned bright brown eyes on him, her dæmon's red eyes peeking through her hair.

A little unnerved by the unblinking stare of the snake, he said, "Maybe you should leave now. I can go and find a phone."

"No way!" she exclaimed. "No, I'm coming with you. Me and Ty can't just leave you here. We're together on this."

"Nothing I can say will make you change your mind?" he pressed. "What about Leah?"

Rosalie's gaze darkened for a moment before she shook her head, her wet hair sending water droplets soaring. "She'll be fine. Ziz…Ziz told me she'd be okay. And I trust her."

Jay let out a breath of relief. "That's right. She did say that." He chuckled a little before admitting, "I'm kinda glad you don't want to go. I don't want to be here by myself."

She reached out slowly, blushing, and tugged at his fingers. "I won't leave you. We're in this together, right?"

Smiling softly, Jay brushed the strands of hair sticking to the side of her neck, his fingers lingering there for a moment before he took her hand. "Right. Now let's go find that phone."

"Nine-one-one, right?" Rosalie asked, picking up the phone and handing it to him. "We really call them now?"

He managed a laugh. "Yes." Taking the receiver, he dialed the number and waited impatiently.

"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"

Jay had only called the police once before in his life—a long time ago when there had been a fire breaking out in his neighbor's backyard from an overturned grill. He remembered just how bland and dull the people sounded on the other line; it was a way to try and keep the caller calm while help was on the way.

"I need help immediately," he said, trying to keep his words hushed in case someone was listening. "I'm at the Department of Sedology and Study on Pine and 14th."

"What's going on?" The woman on the other end sounded almost bored as she asked the question.

"There's a man here with a gun. We need immediate help."

"I can send some officers down to check it out. What's your name?"

"Jay Collins. It's my father with the gun. His name is—"

The line went dead.

With a feeling of sudden, icy dread, Jay looked up to see the taloned foot of his father's dæmon step inside the room, the ragged edge of the phone line dangling from her open mouth. She let it drop with a soft thump, letting out a low hiss.

Then his father stepped into the room, one hand clutching his side. "Jay," he said calmly, conversationally, as if he was talking about the weather. "I see you're trying to run away." His eyes wandered to the phone cable on the ground. "Shame about that," he noted. "You really shouldn't be trying to do that, you know."

"Where's Dr. Brown?" Jay demanded, grabbing Rosalie's arm and pulling her behind him.

"Oh, he's around." Director Collins strode into the room, Verendis at his heels, her plumed tail swishing behind her. "For now."

"What did you do to him?" Rosalie was gripping Jay's arm so tightly that his fingers were growing numb. "Where's my dad?"

"Shut your mouth, girl. You have no right to be here. If this was a normal day, I'd have you escorted from the premises. But now you know too much." He straightened, dropping one hand to Verendis's scaled head. "Far too much to be allowed to live."

Jay gasped. "What are you saying, Father?"

"Stand aside, Jay," the Director snapped, losing his temper for once. "You know what I'm saying."

Verendis already stepped forward, her little claws flexing in anticipation as her forked tongue fell out of her mouth.

Jay pulled out the dagger at his waist but the Director moved swiftly, knocking the knife from his hand and sending it clattering across the room. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, he lifted Jay from the ground, choking him.

"You'd best be aware of who you're dealing with, boy." His voice was deadly soft. "Stand aside."

Jay fought for breath, clawing at his father's hands, but he wouldn't let go.

Kunai swarmed out from the sleeve of his shirt, arching her tail over her back and sinking the stinger deep into the Director's knuckles.

Jay felt the touch somewhere deep in the center of his chest, feeling a pang of nausea even for the split second that his dæmon touched his father.

With a roar of rage, the Director yanked his hand back, carrying Kunai with him. He flicked his wrist, sending her flying towards the back of the room.

Gasping in pain and shock, Jay fell to his knees, clutching his chest. "Kunai!" he called, nearly sobbing. "Kunai!" He ran to her, gathering her up and pressing her close to his chest, trying to seal the hole that had developed at their separation.

"I'm fine," she insisted, though her voice was faint and weak. "Rosalie!"

He turned to see the Director advancing on her, Verendis flaring her wings to leap…

Rosalie recoiled back as the dæmon attacked, pulling something from her waist and raising it, the light catching along the metallic surface like a flash of lightning…

There was a wet thud and then a shriek of pain, followed instantaneously by a deeper echo of agony.

Now it was the Director on the ground, his eyes watering with pain. He grabbed at his wrist, staring at his hand with wide eyes. "My hand! My hand!" he yelled, his voice cracking under the strain of his shout. "My hand! My hand!"

Verendis was still screaming, her voice high-pitched and hair-raising, as she thrashed on the ground, a growing puddle of blood smearing her green-and-blue plumage scarlet.

Rosalie got slowly to her feet, the dagger in her hand dripping the dæmon's blood. Tyxander stood behind her, a regal golden-furred lion, as they both stared down at Verendis with twin expressions of horrified shock.

Jay ran to her side just as she tilted sideways, catching her before her head hit the ground. "Are you alright?" he whispered frantically. "Rosalie, are you hurt? Did she get you?"

Tyxander turned into a little blue bird, falling limply on the ground. Kunai went to him, preening his feathers between her sharp pincers.

Rosalie blinked rapidly. "I didn't kill her, did I?" she whispered at last.

Now Jay really looked at his father behind him.

The Director was still clutching his hand, staring at it with eyes so wide Jay could see the white all the way around his blue irises.

Verendis was a different story.

She was screaming, struggling weakly on her side as blood pulsed from one wing; it looked like Rosalie had managed to sever the last few inches of the dæmon's wing arm, leaving most of the flight feathers attached to a strip of flesh lying on the ground. It made Jay sick to look at it.

"She'll live." He grabbed Rosalie and helped her to her feet. "We need to go."

Leaning heavily on him and holding her dæmon to her chest with one hand, Rosalie nodded. They made their way to the door slowly, stepping carefully around the Director.

"Wait, Jay," he called out. "Don't leave, son."

Jay turned at that, staring down at him in disbelief. "So now I'm your son?" he demanded bitterly. "Now after all this time? Now that you're lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood because of your own mistakes? You're going to give me the so-called honor of being your son after all you've done to me, to Mitchell, to Rosalie?" He shook his head, laughing humorlessly. "You're kidding yourself. I don't want anything to do with you—not ever again. I'm no son of yours and you are not my father. I have no father."

The Director's face colored. "Don't you dare talk down to me, boy."

"Shut up!" Jay snapped. "I hope you go to prison for the rest of your life for this. I hope that you never get to see freedom again—you and Mother both. It would be what you deserve."

"And when I tell them that my son was involved in this?" A vicious smile cross the Director's face. "My brilliant, prodigy son was the one that devised the machine that caused this. What happens then?"

Jay felt all the color leave his face. "You used me for this. I didn't have anything…" But it was a lie, and Jay knew it.

And the Director knew it. "That's what I thought. So come over here and help me up. We have to cover our work."

Rosalie hadn't said a word the whole time; she had a hand clapped over her mouth in horror.

Jay looked from her back to his father, feeling an overwhelming sense of tiredness. "Say what you want. I won't keep running away—that's behind me now. I'm the one who created the Bisector, so I will take responsibility for it." He turned to Rosalie. "You should leave. Go find your father. The police will be here soon."

"I'm not leaving you," she shot back, tears in her eyes. Her dæmon's ferret back was arched. "I can't."

"If you're here, it will look suspicious." When she didn't move, he let out a short sound of exasperation. "Go, Rosalie! Go on! You can't be here!"

"I won't leave you!" she snapped. "You didn't leave me. What kind of person would I be to just run away?"

You'd be like me, he thought sadly. "Please. For me."

Her eyes flickered between his. "What's going to happen?"

Glancing back at his father, he grabbed her arm and led her outside, closing the door behind him. "I'll go to prison."

"No!" she hissed. "You can't! You didn't do anything wrong!"

"But I did," he answered wearily. "I helped build that machine."

"Just because you built it doesn't mean you knew what was going to happen—what they were going to use it for." She grabbed his shirtfront, not meeting his eyes. "I can't let you go. Please…don't do this."

He smiled sadly, smoothing her jacket over her shoulders. "I have to. I don't want to have to run away from anything anymore." Tilting her chin back with one finger, he added, "I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't want to be the person that can't be relied upon, alright?"

The tears were overflowing from her eyes now, but her brown gaze was steady. "If this is what you want to do, I guess I can't stop you, can I?"

He laughed softly. "Just make sure when you get out to stay as far away from this place as possible. It's dangerous here, you know."

That got her to smile grudgingly. "I'll see you again, won't I? I mean, this isn't a goodbye, right?"

"It's more of a 'See you later,'" he promised. "Before you know it, I'll be back."

"And then…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.

"Then?" he prompted.

She didn't look at him. "Then we can…be together again, right?"

Feeling a rush of sadness and fear for what was about to happen, he drew her close, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head, so close he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. "Of course," he whispered against her still-damp hair. "Absolutely."

She clutched at his shirt material, burying her face against his chest. "I don't want you to leave."

"You have to stay with your father while I'm gone, okay? Make sure that he's alright—your family, too. Worry about them for a while and then I'll be back." He squeezed her tighter, not wanting to let go. "I'll always come back to you, Rosalie."

Just then, he heard running feet coming around the corner. "Stand against the wall!" someone shouted, and he hurried to comply.

A policewoman came up to them, wearing a bulletproof jacket and pointing a pistol straight at them. "Who are you?" she demanded. A cream-colored wolf dæmon as tall as her waist sniffed up at them, his black nose wiggling as he took in their scent.

"My name is Jay Collins," he answered smoothly. "This is Rosalie Brown."

"You're the one that made the phone call," she noted. "My officers will escort you back outside. We've already got five suspects in custody, but one man claimed there was another."

"My father. He's in that room. He needs a doctor," he added, clutching Rosalie's hand tightly.

The woman looked curious, but motioned her men forward into the room. Moments later, they appeared with the Director in tow, handcuffed but leaning heavily on a policeman's shoulder.

He glared icy daggers at Jay as he passed. "I'll see you later," he hissed as he passed.

Jay didn't make any motion to show that he had heard.

A Rottweiler dæmon had Verendis—tied with rope—secured to her back, a jaguar dæmon watching her with bright amber eyes. His father's dæmon made no motion to attack, but her yellow-orange eyes locked fiercely and unblinkingly onto Jay, glaring at him with a poisonous intensity that made him shiver.

He and Rosalie followed the police outside into the bright sunlight, blinking at the glaring white light.

Already, his mother, Dr. Richards, and Dr. Clark were handcuffed and lined up against the wall, with Dr. Brown and Dr. Steward restrained just next to them. Their dæmons all were tied up, but Starra and Volara had managed to wiggle up to sit close together, their dark eyes watching the police suspiciously. Leah was on a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance, but her eyes were open and lucid, her dæmon's eyes bright and curious.

Jay noticed with a shock of icy sadness that another stretcher lay ready to be loaded, too, though this one was draped with a plain white cloth. Mitchell.

"Rosie!" Dr. Brown called out, relief evident in his voice.

She ran to him, ignoring the warning growls of the thickset cougar dæmon that was watching them beadily. "Dad!" she cried, hugging him. "Why are you arrested?"

"They have to arrest everyone suspicious," he explained. "I guess I fit the bill." He shot a look to Dr. Steward at his side. "Though it might have been something to do with Steven's nattering on."

Dr. Steward shrugged. "What can I say? I'm no good under pressure."

"Alright, alright." The policewoman with the wolf dæmon stepped up. "Everyone, if you will please cooperate with us, everything will go smoothly. Pick up your dæmons and follow us—don't try anything stupid. Officers, escort them to separate cars."

Jay watched with dark eyes as his mother walked by. "Honey, don't judge us because of this," she urged. "This will help many people."

"That's what you've been saying for a long time," he said stiffly. "I don't believe a word of it."

She reached up with her handcuffed hands, stroking his cheek gently. "We did this for you, dear."

He jerked his face away. "I don't want this. I never wanted any of this, Mother!"

She looked hurt, her lynx dæmon wilting slightly in her hands. "Don't do this to me, Jay. I love you!"

"If you loved me you should never have done this. Mitchell, Mother!"

She looked firmly at him, her blue eyes steady. "I regret nothing. Just listen to what you hear, because it's all for you." The officer nudged her and forced her moving again, but she glanced over her shoulder one more time, eyes full of tears, before she ducked her head and disappeared from sight.

He stood there for a moment, confused. What did she mean by that?

Rosalie walked up to him, catching his hand easily. "What are you going to do?"

"I have to tell them." He walked up to the woman officer. "Excuse me, I have something to say about the operations going on here."

"Don't worry, kid," she said easily, holding up a clipboard. "I've already got it settled."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I don't think you understand. There's a machine inside, and—"

"Whoa, whoa." She held up her hands. "I've got it, alright? The suspects already sang like birds for me. That black-haired one—your mother, I guess—already gave a statement. It was backed up by the other four here. Look." She leafed through the pages. "A machine inside called the Bisector. It was built by the one called Richards and designed by the Collins couple and the woman named Clark." She looked up. "All good?"

Jay was stunned. "My mother gave this report, you said?"

"Sure did." She clapped him on the shoulder. "She was real apologetic about the whole thing. I'm sorry you've got parents like that, kid."

"Ah, thank you."

She offered them a ride back to the police station and they took it, sliding into the backseat of the cruiser. She chatted away at top speed about how the police had never known what was going on in the Department and how it was a total surprise, but Jay wasn't listening.

Just listen to what you hear, because it's all for you.

Did this mean his mother was taking the blame for the Bisector for him?

Rosalie's fingers were still laced with his and he gripped them tightly. "She covered for you," she breathed in his ear, keeping her voice low to the policewoman wouldn't hear her.

"She did." He closed his eyes. "I don't know why, but she did."

"What are you going to do?"

He remembered how his mother's eyes had burned into his. I did it for you. "I guess I'm off the hook now," he said slowly. "I…I'm free."

"But your parents." Rosalie's expression was sad. "What about them?"

"They'll go to prison. Your father will be out in no time." He looked down at her, smiling. "Everything will be fine now."

"You aren't going to go run away or anything, will you?" she asked, concern in her voice. "I bet my father will let you come and live with us until you get on your feet."

Jay imagined the look on Dr. Brown's face at that suggestion. "You know, I have always wanted to try my hand at high school." He grinned, squeezing her fingers. "Do you know any good ones around here?"

She laughed softly. "I think I know just the one."

So now there's only one chapter left and then I'm done. XD Huzzah!

R&R~

Shadow