She didn't know at what point during the night she and Dare had fallen asleep. But she did know that her back and neck ached from lying on the floor. The floor? Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Rette tried to get up. The only thing stopping her from moving was a strong arm across her waist. Confused, Rette turned her head to the right, and there he was.

Dare lie still, peace evident on his face, all of his sarcastic defenses gone. "You've been like that for a while now." A voice coming from above startled her. She looked up, astonished to see Keaton sitting up on his bunk.

"Keaton!" she exclaimed. Dare forgotten, she hastily stepped out of his embrace. She slid next to Keaton on the bed, fastening her arms around his neck. Tears pooled against her will. "I was so worried."

"I couldn't tell," he responded, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Rette took away a hand to hit him upside the head.

"It wasn't funny! I thought you were going to die, Keaton. Why? Why did I think that? What in the hell happened?" He sighed, running slightly shaky fingers through his dark hair.

"I wish I knew everything. But I don't." Just as she opened her mouth, he cut her off. "How about we wait for Dare to wake up, and I'll tell you." Again, Rette tried to protest, but was cut off.

"Well, then we don't have to wait at all! Yay! Go team! Wait, no... GO ME!" The pair of them looked down, startled. Dare's eyes were now open, and he was smirking at them. He got into a sitting position, resting his head on the frame of her bunk. "Oh, don't rush, Sailor. Waar and I have only been waiting for hours in a panic." He shrugged. "But don't worry. While you catch your breath, we'll wait."

Keaton blushed, just a little, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I am, truly, but I wasn't aware of your waking." Dare just nodded, pretending to doubt his friend, but it was obvious to Rette - and probably Keaton, too - that he wanted nothing more than for his friend to be okay.

"Come on. Just tell us," Rette urged.

"Alright, alright. Please refrain all remarks for the end of my story." They promised they would.

And Keaton told them everything he knew.

•

"I think I can hazard a guess." Cyran laughed, completely without humor. A little nervous, Keaton felt himself blush. Was he supposed to join in? He wasn't sure, so he just kept walking forward. 

"Do you think he's just downplaying something?"  Keaton wondered aloud, voice a little shaky.  "Fallow, I mean."

Cyran raised a shoulder.  "Maybe so.  Maybe not."  Keaton accepted the answer mindlessly, and followed Cyran with no other thought.  "Apparently... your scores were pretty good, from what I hear." And the next question that came his way was one he didn't expect. "Are your friends jealous?"

Keaton was immediately ready to answer no, but mulled over the thought for a second longer, picking it apart. Rette had been happy for him when he told them. And Dare... He said he was proud of him. Was he, though? Keaton wished he knew the answer to that question. "It's okay, Sailor. You don't have to answer," Cyran allowed. "My roommate was kind of pissed. I wished I hadn't told him."

"No, I'm glad I told them," Keaton rushed out. "I'm pretty sure they're happy for me. Haven't actually straight up asked them, though. Dare would be the one I'd worry about when it came to jealousy, just because of his... adventurous qualities. Rette, I knew, didn't really care."

"Rette?" he cooed. "Having ourselves a little forbidden romance, now are we?"

"Ew!" Keaton's cheeks heat up at the thought. "She's like my sister." Was it his imagination, or did Cyran flinch a little bit? No, it had to have just been the light. "I don't like her in that way."

"Ah.  I see.  But there is someone..." It wasn't a question. 

Keaton was spared at having to answer by a beast of a boy barreling into him.  The giant just kept on walking.  "Damn, Omodan.  Way to apologize," Cyran said. 

"You're certainly one to talk, Kal," the deep, gruff voice replied.  Ralnor Omodan stopped for just a moment, letting Cyran jam his nose between the boy's shoulder blades.  Then he was gone, as if he hadn't been there in the first place.  Curious. 

"I hate that guy.  Sometimes I just want to pound his face in."  Keaton nodded, remembering the feeling.  He wanted to hurt the officers that took away that screaming boy so many nights ago.  

"Alright!  Subjects!"  Fallow boomed, drawing all of their attention.  "I'm warning you now that what you see could be very disturbing.  Brace yourselves."  The suspense was palpable.  Fallow waited a moment more and opened the door. 

•

"What was behind the door?"

"Was it as disturbing as he said?"

"Hey! You promised!"

Sheepish smiles. "Sorry..."

•

A girl sat on the bed, handcuffs cutting through her wrists. Her eyes were black, with only a few white dots in each. She arched her back, fighting her restraints. They were covered in drying blood, which appeared at first glance, to be that. Small muffled noises sounded from the girl, and no one could doubt that they'd be much louder if someone removed the cloth from her mouth. That cloth - a bandanna - was completely black now, covered in foam. It used to be white. Her skin was splotchy, red marks covering more than half her body.

Keaton felt the urge to puke. He turned to the right, only to see that Jara already had.  Martyz started screaming, and Riniya was covering her eyes with her hands, which were now white with pressure.  Even Ralnor looked a little green.  Keaton looked to his left, at Cyran, and found that there were tears in his eyes.  Probably for the girl.  Maybe he knew her.  Keaton Sailor didn't even want to know how the others thought of his reaction to this girl. 

Cyran spoke first.  "What is this?"  His voice was gravelly, like he hadn't used it in months.

Fallow answered him without taking his eyes off the girl, or the grimace off his face.  "This is Sorsasta Tele.  Subject 684."

•

"She was a subject?"  Dare's tone was dripping with incredulity.  "What was wrong with her?"

Keaton locked his gaze onto that of his friend's.  "She has tomorsis."

"What?" Rette questioned. "No! That can't be. We're immune."

"That's what we all thought." Keaton was patient, knowing this was a big shock to the two of them. "The disease has evolved. The disease starts with the splotches, and then you start spitting out black foam. And then your eyes go. And then your mind, but you can still feel pain."

Rette's hand had gone to her mouth. She looked away. "That poor girl..."

"That's when I came back saying we weren't safe. Because we're not."

"K," Dare started, sounding awfully dreadful.  A terrible thought had just occurred to him, and it wouldn't go away.  "You've been exposed.  What if you get this new type?"

"They gave us protection gear, before going in.  And a shot with-"  Keaton was cut off by a note sliding in from under the door.  He made a grab for it, slipping his finger under the seal and breaking it.

"Who's it from?"

"Fallow, I think.  Apparently, he wants to see me in the clinic."  He glanced up from the paper quickly.  "I'll see you guys soon."

•

Keaton rounded one last corner, finding himself in the hospital wing,  only a few paces from the clinic.  Before stepping inside, he put on the necessary protections: a gown, gloves and face mask.  The door slid open, revealing a crying Sorsasta.  Her eyes were closed, but when she heard the sound of the door opening, her eyes widened in fear.

What did she think he would do to her?

"It's okay, Sorsasta."  Keaton held his hands out, like a silent peace offering.  "I'm not going to hurt you."  She didn't relax.  Black eyes staring him down.

He moved around her bed, further into the clinic, looking for Fallow or an officer of some sort.  "Dr. Fallow?  Is anyone here?"  No response came 

Sorsasta started whining, shaking her handcuffs, making them clank against the bed.  Worried, Keaton abandoned his search, going back to the girl. 

"Sorsasta.  Are you alright?"  She whined again, looking down at the bandanna tied on her face, then back to his green eyes.  He reached down, dragging it from her mouth to her neck.  "What's wrong?"

She pulled in a big breath, and gave her answer on the exhale.  "They did this."  All of her words formed together, but he still got the gist of it. 

"Who?"

She didn't answer, just wincing as pain shot through her, feeling tears fall down her cheeks.  Keaton, itching to know, grabbed hold of her face, making her gaze meet his once more.  "Sorsasta, who did this to you?"

"...he did..."  He became frustrated, but tried to reel it in.  It would do her no good.

"Was it Nix Fallow?"  She whined.  He took it as a yes.

That bastard.  "Well, you can believe me on this."  She leaned her head into his palm, looking up at him through tired eyes.  "I'm going to try like hell to help you.  And to get him."

"...promise?"  Unshed tears shone like stars in her eyes. 

"I promise."  He turned to go.  He did have to find a way to stop Fallow, but a whine stopped him in his tracks. 

"I'm... Sori."  She tried to smile, but Keaton could tell it only hurt her to do so.  The sight pained him, but not as much as the action did her. 

"Keaton.  And Sori?"  She nodded.  "I'll be back."