I have no idea where this came from. This thing came out of the blue and abducted by fingers, and then I have this. I have no idea where the story is going. Please review and tell me what you think.

He was afraid. The lab had never shaken like this before. And he was very afraid.

Clone Seven. That was his name. Seven didn't think it was a very nice name, but no one called him anything better, so he didn't come up with something else. Clone Twelve had called himself Steve for a little while, but the men in white coats had found out and taken Steve away. Once the men in white coats took you away, you didn't come back. Seven didn't know much, but he knew that wherever the others went, it was probably bad.

The way Seven saw it, everything was a kind of something. There were kinds of feelings. There was the feeling you got when the men in white coats didn't give you mushy stuff for a long time, and something inside of you would make a rumbling noise. Seven didn't like that feeling. The agents would usually give him mushy stuff when they heard it, but then they would stare closely at him as he ate. Seven didn't like to be stared at, so he usually ate as fast as he could so the white coat men would stop watching him.

The shaking knocked him into the side of the cage, and he grabbed the pipe that ran down the side of his cage. It felt good to clutch something tight against himself.

There were other feelings too. New. Yes, Seven thought new could maybe be a type of feeling. There were the kinds of new- good and bad. The things the lab coat men gave him were usually the bad kind of new. They caused that feeling, the icky feeling you felt everywhere and nowhere at once. The others had told him it was pain. Pain, hurt, it had lots of names. Pain was sometimes good, though. It let him know that something was wrong, and that he should stop whatever he was doing and figure out what it was.

Seven missed the others. He was all that was left of them. They had had a special language, and understanding that they tried to keep a secret. If you had a problem, you got the attention of one of the others. Then you tried to show what was happening without making noise. The other would then tap the glass in their cage- one tap meant 'I understand' and two taps meant 'I don't understand, try again.' You could nod and shake your head too, but that attracted more suspicion than tapping.

But, one by one, they had all been taken away. Through the door. Seven didn't like the door. It looked very scary. The shaking had knocked it open, and Seven could see sharp, shiny, painful looking tools on the other side. Of course, even all that wasn't as scary as The Thing. He didn't like The Thing. It made lots of noise, and its eyes glowed when it was dark, and if he made too much noise it would make growly noises and try to get out of its cage. He had never seen The Thing, but he was happy that it had never broken out.

The lab shook again. Seven gripped the pipe even harder. This shaking was new, yes, very new. He didn't like the shaking. He thought that this new was very bad. He tried to wrap his legs around the pole too, but the wall was in the way. The Thing let out a roar, and Seven thought that he really wanted to get away from The Thing. He thought the shaking had stopped, but it started again. It took Seven a moment to realize that he was the one shaking.

Seven didn't like to shake like this. It showed weakness, weakness the lab coat men liked to see. And Seven didn't like the men happy. So Seven hesitantly let go of the pipe and began to rub his arms.

Rubbing had helped the last time he shook this bad. A mean man in green with lots of badges had filled his cage with water. When it drained, Seven's teeth were clattering together so hard he thought they might fall off on the floor. And Seven liked his teeth in his mouth. That was where they were supposed to stay. So, without really thinking about it, he had rubbed himself until the shaking stopped. The green man had grunted and walked away.

Rubbing himself now helped a little, but he was still quivering a lot. Seven leaned against the side of his cage, trying to think of other ways to stop the shaking.

His cage suddenly lurched and fell off its pedestal, landing on its side with a crash. Seven tumbled with it, his head cracking on the wall as he fell. The glass splintered, but didn't break as the cage settled on the floor. Seven picked himself up, drawing his legs to his chest and trying to puzzle out what had happened. The cage had tipped, but why? There was a reason for everything, Seven had learned this time and time again. The reason The Thing was always in a cage was because it was dangerous. The reason the others were taken was because they did something to make the lab coat men mad. The reason you didn't stick everything in your mouth was because you could get sick. At least, that's what Nine had told him.

Seven looked at the cracked glass, not sure what to do. The lab coat men hadn't been around lately, so no one was there to fix it. What should he do?

Break out.

The thought, Seven was certain, had come from his own head. But it was so out of place that for a moment he wondered if something else was in his head. He didn't do anything by his own choice. That was the unspoken rule of the lab coat men. You never acted, only reacted. And yet… the lab coat men weren't here now. They would never know if he looked around. And if they did come back, he would just jump in the cage and pretend the glass had broken by itself. Seven was good at pretending, he knew that. He pretended he was in other places all the time. Now… maybe he wouldn't have to pretend. Maybe he could go someplace else for real.

Seven cautiously tapped the glass, looking at the little cracks. They were little, but maybe he could make them bigger. He had done that to his pipe once. There had been little cracks in it, and the more he whacked it the bigger they got. Did it work on his cage too? He smacked the glass with his fist, wincing at the noise it made. He glanced around the room, trying to see if the agents had come back and weren't showing themselves. They had done it before. But after a moment, Seven decided it was okay to smack the glass again. So he did. And then he did it again. He smacked the glass harder each time, a frown coming to his face as the tiny cracks didn't get much bigger. With a sudden growl that surprised even him, he lashed out at the glass, his fist glowing green. The glass shattered into infinitesimal pieces, hitting the ground with a noise that Seven thought was kind of pretty.

Seven blinked at the world around him, suddenly conscious of the fact that it was much brighter outside the cage than inside. A cold breath of air blew over him, and he pressed his arms to his sides so he wouldn't shake. He cautiously took a step forward, then scrambled back when he heard an unexpected noise. He felt a familiar hot sensation in his face. He hated that feeling. It only happened when the agents made him do something really bad. Seven stood up as tall as he could get. He wouldn't be afraid. There wasn't anything out there. If the lab coat men could walk around without being afraid, so could he. He stepped outside again, instantly hunching over at the symphony of new sounds and feelings. So much new- how was he supposed to know what was good or bad? What if something bad was coming and he didn't figure it out? Or- or so many good things happened at once that he wouldn't be able to take it? What if-

Seven felt someone touch him.

Yes, no, maybe so? Please review!