Hopefully this short chapter is forgiven since I've posted 2 chapters in quick succession :)

In which new revelations are made

Cross stalked directly from the Recovery Room to the Repairman's lair. Finding it completely deserted, he walked over to the punching back mounted in the corner, stopping only to contemplate the puddle of congealing blood left by Evangeline. He shed his jacket. She's just a kid, he thought, landing his first punch. A week of sitting at her bedside, a week of cradling her head on his chest, and Cross couldn't deny the small twitch in the pit of his stomach when she stirred against him and pressed the soft planes of her body to his chest. He couldn't deny the feeling he got when she would let out a soft whimper every now and then when he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Cross released a barrage of punches on the reinforced bag and pursed his lips at the slight burn as the skin of his knuckles wore thin on the rough material.

She's younger than Wesley. And with that thought came a final strike. Cross turned to sit against the wall, breathing hard. It was clear that Evangeline wasn't the little girl that Fox delivered in pajamas just a few short weeks ago. Evangeline had grown up. Her new orphaned state had sparked a change in the young girl. Losing one father had prompted a rejection of all fathers in her life. This seemingly included Cross, leaving him in an ambiguous limbo. Cross rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. He could feel her eyes on him from time to time, watching his every move. Despite her innocence, the look in Evangeline's eyes was certainly enough to inspire a host of scenarios that were anything but wholesome.

Membership in the Fraternity didn't come with any vows of chastity. It was no secret that each of the members had their own unique predilections. Inter-organizational entanglements were bound to happen, but these days it was even more common to find someone sneaking back into the Factory at the crack of dawn with a sheepish, but satisfied smile on their lips.

Cross looked down at his hands, watching as the blood gelled between his fingers. He tilted his head back, lightly pushing against the grey wall. "Shit."

Evangeline, meanwhile had emerged from the pool and was wandering the factory's main floor. Rows upon rows of looms stood silent and still, the threads devoid of their shuddering vibrations. As she padded barefoot through the maze of machines, Evangeline reached out to pluck at the tightly strung cotton threads, relishing the tension of the thin white strands.

"Evangeline?"

She whipped her head around to confront the source of the sound. Sloane stood at the doorway.

"It's late." He stated.

"I know, I just… I couldn't sleep."

He strode slowly towards her. "I heard you took quite a beating today."

Evangeline bit her bottom lip. "I… It's been hard."

Sloane smiled. "Perhaps, it's time to get back to work." He stretched his hand out, extending with it a slip of paper attached to a white swatch of fabric. Another name.

Evangeline swallowed hard, but took the assignment without question.

"Gunsmith will see you in the morning." Sloane turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Evangeline to contemplate the weight of the object in her hand.