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Wolfgang sat, shivering. Around him, his kitchen looks like the floodgates of hell. Drawers had been pulled out, plates shattered around the floor, and he was pretty sure one of the chairs was missing a leg. It was a strange thing, fear. He had felt it many times before, but none of them had ever felt quite like this.

It was cold, and yet he felt like he was on fire. There was the dull roar and rush of blood in his ears, but he couldn't hear a thing. He wanted to hide from it, but it sat there, right beside him, like a sickness he couldn't shake off. He just felt so tired. Tired of fighting it. His heart was gripped in a sinking fear for what he had done. A soft breeze blew through the window across the room, slowly lifting the curtains in a mournful dance around the window.

Across from him sat Sun. She looked as calm as ever, her hair slightly tousled from the fight. He knew he was a fighter. It was something that made sense to the German. When there were people who did wrong things, they were meant to be fought against. That was just the way things went, but Sun? She was probably the most intimidating person Wolfgang had ever met. Her calm demeanor and uncanny ability to read people so well put him off. If he had never been involved with the German mobs, he probably would have overlooked her quiet presence as submissiveness.

Between them was a silence so thick Wolfgang could strangle it. Instead they sat there with empty eyes and anything but empty thoughts.

Slowly bringing up his hand, Wolfgang watched it shake. He couldn't control it.

"We need to leave. Now." Wolfgang said.

Kala looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. Deep down he could feel the fear she felt and he had never felt it so strongly before. Right then, he wished he could turn the wheel and go somewhere else. Anywhere else.

The spray of bullets stopped, and down the hall, Wolfgang could hear the pounding of military grade boots stomping over broken glass. Looking cautiously around the seat, the German counted seven men in military gear heading down the hallway. Three cow prods, two tazers, and two with hand guns. Kala's hand snaked up his bak to rest on his shoulder. Her presence behind his back calmed him as he watched. Behind the pair, Rajan groaned, shifting over the shattered glass. His eyes widened in fear as the the first man crashed through the door.

Without thinking, Wolfgang grabbed a large shard of glass before launching himself at their attackers. The glass embedded deep in the man's neck as he fell with a startled cry, a river of red darkening his black uniform. Grabbing the tazer out of his limp grasp, Wolfgang shot the next one, who fell without a sound. The other five rushed in, prods and guns at the ready. Distantly the German heard his name being called, but in the heat of battle, it fell upon deaf ears.

Kala watched as Wolfgang lunged up, grabbing glass. She felt a pain on her palm, and when she looked at her hand, a thin red cut opened her hand. The realization of what was happening dawned on her, right before the glass was slammed into the man's neck.

"Wolfgang!" She cried, as warm blood covered her hand. It wasn't her blood, it was theirs. She was killing them. "Wolfgang! Pleas stop!" She pleaded, but if he heard her, he didn't show it as another man went flying through a window from one of his round house kicks. This was blood on her hands. She felt herself blanch at the though. Wolfgang must have felt that as he paused, but the hesitation allowed one of the men to give him a good sock on the jaw. Kala cried as her cheek flared with pain.

"Wolfgang, stand down!" Came a different voice, but it was faint. Wolfgang looked up at the man before handing him a powerful uppercut. The man's head snapped back and as the two with the guns raised to take aim, he grabbed the first man, twisting him in front and used him as a shield. The others didn't seem to care about their team member getting killed as bullets assaulted him. Wolfgang shoved the now dead man forward before being pushed back behind one of the chairs himself.

Sun stood above him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I told you to stand down." She said, narrowing her eyes. When he didn't reply, she sighed and turned. The one behind her went in for a punch, but she dropped, sweeping his legs out from beneath him. As he fell, Sun twisted the gun out of his hand, knocking him out with the butt of his own weapon. Standing quickly, she elbowed the other in the face, a torrent of crimson running down his face.

As Sun dispatched the rest, Wolfgang looked over at Kala. Her face was streaked with tears, a bruise slowly swelling on her cheek. "Kala..." He reached forward, but she pulled away. There was a pull in his chest when she did, his touch seemed like acid and her glair was like a bullet to his heart. His fingers curled into a fist and he brought it close to his chest.

"I think you should go..." She whispered. And with those words ringing in his ears, the sound of rain hitting the windows accompanied the familiar sight of his apartment. He stood there in silence for a moment. Suddenly he lashed out, his fist connecting with a cabinet door. Wood splintered everywhere, marring his knuckles. The German's breathes came in quick, shallow gasps. He wanted to blame his father, the man that had ruined everything. He wanted to blame anyone, anyone other then the man who he knew started it all.

With traitorous tears burning in his eyes, he began to dismantle his kitchen. Each blow was for himself. Every kick kicked a part of his damned soul. When he tore things, it was ripping up his heart to shreds. How could he have been so stupid? Kala wasn't a killer like him, and what had he done? Killed people using her own hands. Sure, she had gotten him out of a sticky situation with a household product bomb, but now she would have to live her life with memories of herself killing remembered the first time he had blood dripping down his hand. It was like a flood gate of anger and twisted rage. It was something he would never have wished upon Kala.

Slowly, he sank down to the floor, his now bloodied hands streaking his blond hair scarlet.

Sun watched the broken man before her. It was like watching herself. Wolfgang was tearing himself up, which was exactly how Sun felt behind her cool façade. They were a ragtag bunch. A group of self-sacrificing idiots. Everyone blamed themselves on what they could have done differently, what they could have done to prevent this or that. It was all relative. They need each other, whether they liked it or not. She watched his hand raise, shaking. He stared at it as if it were a betrayal, full of hatred and self-loathing.

"Wolfgang." She whispered tentatively. When he didn't react, she tried again, "Wolfgang!" His eyes slowly rose to meet hers. The scene twisted into grey concrete walls, the two sensates sitting side by side on the tiny cot. Wolfgang's eyes still watched her.

"Kala will forgive you." She said softly. She was all to familiar with the concept of people pushing her away. Her first impression of Wolfgang, and her first impressions were never far off point, was that he had a hard habit of the overpowering need to prove something. He himself pushed people away so they could only glimpse a part of him that he wanted them to see. He wanted people to see him as they wanted so they would like him. However, being able to jump to other peoples' minds and catching them off guard made it harder for him especially. The blonde sighed, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time.

"How are you so certain I haven't fucked up everything?" Wolfgang gave her a sideways glare.

"My father used to believe I couldn't owe up to anything, unlike my idiotic brother. Well, we both ended up owing so much. Now I sit here, waiting to unleash hell on his miserable hide for killing the one person who could get me out of here." The last sentence came out in a bitter tone.

"Hey! Keep it down, prisoner 773!" A guard stopped right in front of the barred door. Her room mates grumbled. They had long been accustomed to Sun talking to herself about the strangest things.

"You can keep it up your ass." She mumbled back, getting a few small chuckles from around the room.

"Would you like to repeat that, prisoner 773?" The guard challenged, her arm sliding towards her baton.

"What? Oh, nothing." Sun kept her face stone cold as Wolfgang gave s breathy laugh.

"Prisoner 773, please come to the door!" Sun sighed, rolling her eyes at Wolfgang. His small smirk didn't reach his eyes by any means, but it was better then before. Standing in front of security, Sun had to look up slightly. The baton came whipping through between the bars and the kick boxer's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack.

Wolfgang lept up, but Sun looked up and glared at him, pleading that he wouldn't do anything he regretted. It was a command he knew all to well: stand down. The clicking of the guards shoes echoed down the hall as she left. Sun's room mates looked up, but refused to get up from their own cots. It wasn't their business so they didn't get involved.

Making her way back, the Korean eased herself back on the cot.

"Why didn't you punch her back?" Wolfgang asked, bewildered by the experience.

"She was only doing her job." Sun replied dryly. Wolfgang waited, but she didn't elaborate. Sometimes Sun was so open, while other times she was a completely blank slate. He sighed, suddenly exhausted. He dropped his head to his chest, his back pressed firmly against the remains of a cabinet in his kitchen.

The two sat there quietly, one cold and dressed in blue while the other could only imagine all the red pouring from his wounds.

Will struggled to get ahold of himself. It was like wading through molasses, his limbs thick and heavy. He could feel his arms hanging limply at his sides and his eyelids felt glued shut. Just beyond the breaking point he could hear Riley singing. It was a soft Icelandic song, and from the sounds of it, a lullaby. It was one he had heard snippets of, the tune catching on a breeze before he could hear the words, but this time, they were clearly heard. He fought his way out of the mist that clung to him, weighing him down and pulling him further from the real world.

"Bí, bí og blaka álftirnar kvaka. Ég læt sem ég sofi en samt mun ég vaka..."

Riley trailed off before the next line. Her mind was so wrapped up that she jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Whoa there, little miss Iceland, it's only me." Nomi raised her hands. She could see Riley visibly relax, her shoulders losing what looked like a ton of tension. "I'm just here for an update."

"Sorry, I've just been feeling like something is about to happen. Or blow up. I haven't decided yet." The petite Icelandic woman settled back down in the chair. Nomi could only offer a, what she hoped looked like, an encouraging smile. Over the weeks, the two had gotten to know each other even better. It felt good to know that they could trust each other.

"While some adventure sounds nice, I, for one, would like to keep my head on. We've been on the lamb for a while now, so yeah, I'm getting the feel that something's going to happen. How are you with money?"

Riley shrugged. "Drunk people pay the bills."

Nomi laughed. "I'll take that for 'I'm fine'. Is Will doing alright?" Her gaze landed on the mass of Chicago cop taking up the bed. "I mean, obviously he can't talk, but like, are you sure you're okay? Sure, we talk a lot, but who else do you talk to? I hope it isn't too lonely or I will send for a mariachi band so you can get some of the good ol' fashioned Central American music. Or Lito can sing for you." They shared a knowing look, smiling as they remembered that the last time he had sung, he had been drunk to high heavens. That had been an interesting night.

"I talk to the managers at the clubs," she trailed off when all she got was a glare, "My father calls too. He tells me all about his latest composition or concert." A wistful smile lit up her face for a moment. "Oh, and Samantha." Nomi's brow wrinkled a little at that. "Will's new nurse." Riley tried to clarify.

"What new nurse? I've been keeping tabs on everyone, and no one at this hospital named Samantha has access to Will." The brunette opened her computer, pulling up files and information on one Brian J. Smith. "His regular nurse is Kyle."

Riley gave the computer a hard look. She had never even met Kyle. It couldn't be true. Samantha was real. She had to be. "Are you sure? She comes in to give Will his exercises at eight every morning-"

Her words were cut off as Nomi suddenly reach across from her, going for the remote at her side that controlled the tv in Will's room. It had been on mute the whole time, inn attempt to block out the rest of the word. Looking up to the tiny screen, Riley's heart skipped a best as the logo for Biologic flashed across the screen.

"-we are hoping to create a safe environment for our employees. I never imagined this happening to any of our facilities, especially one half way around the world." The picture flashed back to the news room showing an overly cheerful woman looking out from the screen.

"Thank you, Mr. Luzt. That was our informant on work safety after a Biologic facility in Mumbai where reports of a shootout were called in earlier this morning. There were three casualties, but so far there has been no other news of this." She gathered her papers, a smile plastered onto her overly tan face. "Next up is the heated debate-"

The cheery voice muted when Nomi's finger slammed the button. The two sat in silence. They were so busy processing the information that they missed the twitch of Will's hand.

To the guest who left the review about the little girl: I liked the idea that Will could see the sensate girl when he was little, so I wanted to take the idea that future sensates can see present sensates.

Sorry this chapter was a little short.

Any questions, comments, concerns or happy thoughts are appreciated!