So this is the beginning of my sequel to "Help me Remember." Thanks to LuluCalliope for the support all through the writing and revising of my first story! I hope this lives up to your expectations! :)

(Thrax)

Leaning against the wall in an alley, I sighed and closed my eyes. It was my "lunch" break, although I really only needed the break part. I was tired of the citizens of Shane; they gawked at me, hid their children, glared at me. This wasn't what I had in mind when I decided to become a vaccine in the first place. But what did I expect; that everyone would smile and wave at the friendly neighborhood virus? I shook my head, disgusted by my own naivete.

At least I was finally trusted enough to wander around alone on break. Not that I did much wandering; standing alone in a secluded area, hiding from the distrusting eyes, was pretty much normal for me. I'm not even myself anymore, I thought disgustedly. But the solitude was nice, after dealing with my "partner"; the officer assigned to work with me pointedly ignored me, except for the occasional dirty look. Just to remind me (again) that I wasn't welcome in Shane. They didn't know how lucky they were that I had Tibia to think about; if I didn't have a constant reminder in the back of my mind that she would be disgusted with me, the entire city would be a burnt rubble pile already.

After a while of standing there alone, I sighed and reluctantly started to walk back to the ugly police cruiser I was forced to ride in; my break was over. My "partner"-Phil or something-was already waiting in the car, staring straight ahead. He didn't turn his head as I opened the door and got in the car. I'm pretty much used to being hated by now, but at least before there was a reason for it, I thought in irritation. And there was some excitement back then to make up for it. Without a word, Phil-or-something started the engine and started driving. I wasn't sure where we were supposed to go, and I didn't ask; we never spoke to each other.

I looked out the window, bored as usual with my new life. For the hundredth time, I wondered why I came. As much as Shane obsessively washes her hands, we never get any germs to deal with anyway. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a white blood cell lounging against a wall. Almost dismissing him as a local, I started to look away. But the eyes that glared at me from his shadowed face were familiar. A little too familiar, even. Wait, what's he doing here? I wondered, twisting around to get a second look. But the cell was gone. Phil gave me a quizzical look; obviously he hadn't seen what I had. "I thought I saw…someone I knew," I explained; half to the cell in the car next to me, half to myself. He's not even there. Much more of this, and I'm going to lose my mind. I didn't even know what I meant by "this." Everything, probably.

As we pulled into an alley, I decided to break our month-long silence. "What exactly is the point of this?" I inquired, not expecting an answer.

But after a long moment, Phil actually spoke! "It's called we're supposed to check this place out." As we stepped out of the car, he pointed his thumb in the direction of one of the buildings across the street. "It's supposedly abandoned, but the neighbors say they think there are squatters in there." The building looked pretty much like all of the others in the neighborhood; clean and very well-maintained.

"Yippee; because dragging the homeless people out of empty houses is such an important job," I muttered sarcastically to myself. I didn't add the Congratulations on your first words, part. Phil rolled his eyes, but I thought I saw the corners of his mouth lift for a split-second. Let's see, what have I accomplished in one month as a vaccine? Well, I made someone smile. Yay for me. My "partner" insisted on opening the door, as usual; he wanted to look like he was the leader. To me, the house looked empty. There was nothing on the floor, no lights were on, blah blah, et cetera. As we climbed the stairs, the cell in front of me switched on a flashlight. I smirked at him; I didn't need the extra light.

The upstairs was the same story as downstairs. Empty. "Well, I guess there are no squatters in here after all. Now we can get back to falling asleep at the police station while we wait for something to happen…emphasis on wait," I said. But right as I finished, there was a noise downstairs; someone was opening the door. I could hear footsteps approaching the stairs.

"Quick! Let's, um…wait in this bathroom until they come up," Phil suggested. That's really original, baby. What're you doing on the Immunity force when you would make such a good war strategist? I rolled my eyes, but the cell didn't notice. With a quiet sigh, I followed him into the bathroom as the stairs began to creak; whoever was in the house was coming up, as predicted. The footsteps continued until they were right outside the bathroom door, and then turned. "They must have gone in the bedroom," the cell next to me whispered.

It was silent in the bedroom. Empty. Phil walked over to the closet, gun drawn, to check if anyone was hiding inside it. Not finding anything, he motioned toward the door; he was going to check other rooms. I nodded and indicated that I was staying. I began to walk toward the bed—the only piece of furniture that had been left behind, for whatever reason—when a streak of blue suddenly shot out from under it and hit me hard in the chest. Caught off guard, I fell back with an angry shout. Before I could stand back up, my attacker was back, throwing their fists at my face. They managed to land one punch before I knocked them to the side and stood up, touching my eye gingerly where they had hit me; it hadn't been gentle. "Who—"

Jones.

"You're kidding me." I chuckled, unable to help myself. Old habits must die hard, if he came all the way here to fight me when I wasn't even a threat to Frank anymore. "Jones, baby; what's up?" I deflected another punch with the palm of my hand. "Careful, Jones; attacking a vaccine can get you in trouble." I couldn't help but mock him; like I said, old habits die hard. Finally, I kicked him in the stomach and he fell back with a gasp.

The pure hatred in Jones' eyes as he looked up at me was unnerving. Not because I was scared of him—I wasn't, of course—but there was so much more loathing in his eyes than there had been any other time he'd seen me. Like this was suddenly personal for him. As he got up and tried to attack me again, I started to get annoyed. Pushing Jones up against the wall by his throat, I growled, "Have you lost your mind?" He struggled to breathe, clawing at my hand uselessly. I didn't let him go until he stopped thrashing around.

Jones collapsed on the ground, gasping and rubbing his neck. "I honestly don't know anymore!" he finally shouted in answer to my question. "But I really don't have time to think about it right now; I'm too busy getting ready to kill you!" Well, he's persistent, I'll give him that, I grumbled irritably in my head as he once again stood up. But this time, he pulled a gun from under his jacket. Unable to reach him to knock it out of his hand, I froze instead; at this close range, even he could manage to put a bullet in me. And that might ruin my day a little.

I could hear the stairs creaking again; Jones heard it too. He hastily hid the gun back under his jacket right before Phil burst into the room. For the first time, I was actually glad to see him. "Oh, good; you found him," he said casually, as if I hadn't been seconds away from getting shot. My gratefulness faded a bit; I knew he'd heard the fighting, but he didn't acknowledge it.

As the officer approached him with a pair of handcuffs, Jones backed up. "Whoa, wait a minute. What're those for?" He pulled out his Immunity badge; I could have sworn he smirked at me as he did.

Looking surprised, Phil (who I'd already decided was a moron) put his handcuffs away sheepishly, starting to apologize. "Wait, what are you doing?" I demanded. Jones should have been cuffed by now.

"Well, I can't just cuff an officer of Frank, can I?" my "partner" told me, looking at me like I was an idiot. He turned away, not noticing the scowl on my face. To Jones, he said, "We still need to take you to the station—not to arrest you, just to let em' know you're here. That okay?" At the okay from Jones, my scowl deepened. It didn't help when he turned to smirk at me after my "partner" turned and walked away. I'm not here to kill people, I reminded myself. Unfortunately...I added, flexing my claw; it glowed orange with my frustration.

Before Jones could leave, I grabbed him roughly by the arm. "What're you doing here?" I hissed at him. I hadn't gotten a chance to ask before; I'd been too busy keeping him off me. "Are you here because of me?"

Turning toward me, Jones replied in an angry tone, "Did you really think that after what you've done, I would leave you alone? I will never forgive you for taking Tibia away from me."

"What?" I blinked, hoping I'd misunderstood what he meant. "No. She survived with the rest of you," I said.

Jones snorted incredulously, but I could see the pain in his eyes; he was trying to hide it. "No, Thrax. She's dead; burned alive—" his voice broke. "Burned alive because of you."

She's dead; burned alive because of you.

Dead…because of me.