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As Riley sat inside of the ambulance she kept her phone out in case she got a reply from either Marc or Cecily, she just simply got a weird feeling of that stranger entering the asylum just as she had left earlier. Hopefully Marc will be fine, she realized she was still wearing the vest that Marc had given to her earlier. She sat back letting out a soft sigh and ran a hand through her hair, while the paramedics continued to do their thing on Felix Riley would gently give the man a comforting pat on his shoulder to try and comfort him as best she could. A few minutes later they were at the hospital, the paramedics opened the rear doors of the ambulance they got Felix and started to push the stretcher out, the paramedics started rushing Felix towards the ER Trauma Bay of the hospital.

Riley stood there while he was rushed inside, her attention turned over towards a pair of police officers as they climbed out of their police cruiser and started to approach her. Riley closed her eyes for a moment letting out a slight sigh the last time she talked with officers was the night of the block party as well as the reunion. "Ma'am may we ask you a few questions on what happened at the asylum?" The officer asked, Riley gave them a slight nod. "Sure thing, just lead the way I guess." Riley said to them, and started to follow the two officers so that they could get her statement and her account on what had happened back at the Justice Asylum. She always did feel really uncomfortable with talking with police officers, though she never had any sort of criminal record unlike her sister Chloe did, she was really starting to miss her sister despite their past that they had together back home in Grimm.

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Cynthia was as bubbly as ever and Iris continued to feel stressed and concerned. She didn't trust the agent or any of the orderlies not to simply kill Jaina and be done with it. It was too easy for people to forget that these patients were sick, and in Iris' opinion, they couldn't be held responsible for their actions. It would be like holding someone accountable for flu symptoms--they hadn't decided one day to catch the flu and throw up.

"In her room, probably the best option," Iris answered, smiling a bit with relief when she saw the woman was simply knocked out, and didn't have a bullet in her skull. She considered for a moment the possibility of putting Jaina in her office, but there were too many instruments in there that she imagined the woman could get creative with. She felt a little unnerved as Cynthia kissed Jaina's forehead. But that feeling tended to come with the job.

"Oui, oui, I'll go fetch it now," Iris nodded. "Wait here, okay, ma cherie?" She nodded at the orderlies nearby, giving a silent look of keep her here as she did so. They didn't need the patients getting underfoot, especially as forensics and the likes began to arrive at the scene. She glanced down the hallway, looking for either Jaina's room or a vacant one.

"Agent, perhaps this room will work," Iris suggested, spotting an unassigned room towards the end. Patients came and went in the halfway house. She figured that the room must have been vacated rather recently, but at any rate, it'd be a good enough spot to put Jaina for the moment. And it'd have another benefit--no bobby pins would be inside. She didn't want to let the woman have a chance to get creative again.

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Cecily's suggestion that Keystone possibly choke out the particular twat that was on the television, coupled with Caesar's sudden desire to make use of both himself and the company vehicle under his care, made the big man suddenly take this situation with serious, back-on-the-frigging-clock attention. He held his hand out to Cecily while nodding his head in the direction of Caesar, now quickly exiting the building. "C'mon then, poppet." he spoke in urgent but understanding notes. "Ride with me. Loads safer than the Boss's three-wheeled brain 'emorrhage machine, yeah?" As he spoke, he began gathering up the cloth serviette lining the small basket of bread at the table. He snatched up the ramekin of herb butter next to it, tied it all up like a little hobo bundle, and pushed it at Cecily. "Oi, take this an' make for the door, k? Little somethin' for the ride out..."

Meanwhile, Caesar was already pushing the door open and headed out to his trike. He had his serious face on, not that it could be readily distinguished from his normal face.

"Don't call me poppet," Cecily blurted, frowning at the Englishman, as she put her phone away in her pocket. It had taken her much longer to get over her fear of Caesar, but she hardly felt that Keystone could be much more terrifying than him. After all, Caesar was his boss for a reason. Aside from Keystone's capacity to crush her like a bug, the man didn't seem all too threatening. "We're going to have to be much better friends for that," she joked.

Keystone had second of surprise at the young lady's sudden irritation at his informal way of addressing her. "My 'pologies, Lil Miss. Didn't mean nothin' by it." Of course, her next line sounded just a little too much like a come-on for his comfort, at least that early into their acquaintanceship. All the same, he kept quiet about his suspicions. They had work to do.

She stood up from the table, making sure not to stress her shoulder too much, and took the bag of goodies from Keystone. If it wasn't for the fact that her shoulder was injured and healing, she would've hopped back on the trike with Caesar--but she figured it likely wasn't the most shoulder friendly choice she had available at that moment. Caesar had already left, and Cecily glanced down at her phone. No message back from Roy yet--odd.

"Alright, let's get on with it then," Cecily said, armed with the food and headed for the door. She wasn't a car type of person, so she had no clue what to expect from Keystone. She only knew that her own car--a now painfully neglected impala--was an impala because Dean drove one in Supernatural. The broad man was leading Cecily back the way they she came in, exactly. Caesar's Harley was half out of sight, blocked partially by a black Dodge Ramcharger, the same one Caesar intentionally parked next to when they first arrived. Keystone remotely unlocked the vehicle as they walked up, instructing Cecily to "Climb on up, Miss. Put on some musics if you like, yeah?"

Climbing into the Dodge Ramcharger was an especially good turn of phrase for Cecily. It was nearly three feet off of the ground, accounting for just about half of her own height. But out of everything that had happened that day, she figured getting into the vehicle should hardly be the hardest task--hopefully. "You don't need to call me miss," Cecily said, tilting her head slightly. "Cecily's fine--or Ashworth, even," she added, as she climbed into the vehicle.

Caesar barely registered the two of them approaching. He didn't even look in their direction as he gave orders to Keystone. "You protect her. Keep her safe. She's seen that bitch that Juno uses as an assassin, up close. I think it's who killed M'hija, but I've got to know for sure. Cecily's a witness, and good people. You protect her."

Keystone nodded and gave a monosyllabic grunt of affirmation. Bodyguard work was bread and butter for him, and for just one evening? No problem. Of course, he did have his own concerns. "Ey there, Boss? I dunno where the arse we're goin'. Soddin' 'ell, I barely remember which side of the street you Yanks use 'alf the bloody time. You want I should MapQuest it, then?" That last part had a bit more sarcasm than he had intended initially.

"Just try to keep up."

"Yeah, Boss." Keystone climbed into the vehicle. "I think our friend's 'bout to do something foolish."

As Keystone climbed into the vehicle, Cecily checked her phone again. There was still no text from Roy, and if she wasn't already worried with her cousin and Proserpine appearing to be on a collision course, the lack of response from the detective was problematic in itself. Roy was always rather quick about replying, and she had to admit, she felt a bit proud about the Batman analogy she had used in the text.

"We're headed to Justice Asylum," Cecily said to Keystone, glancing over at him. She figured it'd be information useful for the Englishman, just in case something happened to Caesar or herself even on the way there. "Yeah, Asylum. Thanks." he said absently, already placing the odds on having to break out the GPS. Caesar didn't give them a lot of time to buckle up and an adjust their seats, either. As soon as his helmet was on, the trike growled to life and he took off. It was a moderate clip at first, until he got out of the parking lot. Then he pushed the boundaries of the local speed limits. "Bloody 'ell..." mused Keystone, maneuvering the stocky vehicle through generally light traffic, chasing down a highly motivated Mexican on a Harley-Davidson reverse trike.

Keystone had little desire to take his hands off the wheel for very long, seeing as he wasn't a stunt driver but seemed to be following one, but the tiny growl in his stomach threatened to get bigger if he didn't do something about it. Keeping his eyes on the road, he leaned a little closer to his traveling companion, requesting, "Miss Cecily.... Bread me." He left his mouth agape for easier baked good insertion, though his eyes never left the road. "Get that good butter on it, yeah?"

Cecily wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to figure Keystone out, but at least he had acquiesced to addressing her slightly less formally, by using her first name. That was a start, at least. She never especially liked being called by nicknames or more formal titles, an attitude that her grandmother said reminded her of her aunt. Those closest to her were generally permitted to use other names--such as how Riley called her CeCe and her college roommate, Will, called her Celery.

"...Right. Breading you," Cecily replied, untying the "hobo sack" of bread and pulling out a piece. She smeared some butter on it as best as she could, trying not to laugh or make a quizzical expression as she put the piece of bread in Keystone's mouth.

"Thanks, love." said Keystone through mouthful of purloined restaurant bread. "Aw, yeah, that's the good st.. BLOODY HELL!" The verbalization of his contentment was abruptly cut short as Caesar made a sudden and unsignaled change in direction. The larger vehicle was already in the intersection, and Keystone was forced to execute a near hairpin turn to keep behind the elder Mexican, who seemed equally as hellbent to get Keystone and Cecily killed as this mystery woman they were after. Tires squealed, rubber was most definitely left on blacktop, but the beast he now drove was built with stability and safety in mind; they didn't even fishtail. "Oh, you cheeky fucktwat..." mumbled the huge Londoner, before snapping his head around to see if Cecily heard him. "I'd be 'preciative if you didn't mention that to the Boss, yeah?" Oh hey! Bread me!"

Cecily nearly dropped the hobo sack of bread, narrowly managing to grab it and keep it shut as Keystone underwent a near death defying U-turn. The scientist in her mused about the forces and changes in acceleration, but her more practical side was busy with keeping upright, one hand clutching onto the car door to keep herself upright. Although she certainly felt that turn, she couldn't help but note how smoothly the car continued to go. She couldn't help but wonder if it had been purchased with those sort of maneuvers in mind.

"That you called him a 'cheeky fucktwat'?" Cecily asked, before getting another piece of bread with some butter on it ready. "Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, before handing over the piece of bread, placing it in Keystone's mouth.

Ten minutes or so left to go until they made it to the Asylum. From the trike and the larger security vehicle behind, both men wondered if they were going to make before their quarry left. Cecily felt mostly pessimistic about their chances. She doubted that Proserpine would need more than a few minutes to cause whatever chaos she needed, but at the same time, Cecily had a good feeling about their efforts, despite the odds.

Caesar's desire to get to the asylum in a prompt manner bore fruit in just under those ten minutes, giving Keystone a series of near-misses. He made a decision to park in the lot across the street, owing to the police presence and general sense of ordered chaos in front of the building. Uniform after uniform, looking very professional in their work. Caesar wondered how many of the people handling evidence were corrupt. He gave the scene a few seconds to survey the scene, which allowed enough time for Keystone to pull up alongside. "How's about ya, Boss?"

Caesar didn't respond to Keystone verbally, instead waving him out of his vehicle. He was more interested in the occupied body bag being hauled out of the building. The large man acquiesced, locking up behind him. Caesar looked to Cecily, blank of expression. "We need in that building. Sneak in, or can you get us there, Cecily?"

"I've got this," Cecily nodded, fishing her ID out of her wallet. It identified her as the coroner in Justice, just in case anyone did a double take at the tiny twenty three year old with no medical training taking over the crime scene. She couldn't help but smile slightly, despite the danger they were walking into, as she felt incredibly useful for once. Caesar and Keystone may have been skilled in combat, but she could science the shit out of things, and get access to crime scenes.

Heading over to the crime scene, Cecily didn't even need to flash her badge. The forensic tech on duty practically begged her to take over the scene, and a few minutes later, it was officially her case. "Alright. I need photographs and a video walkthrough of evidence done before you bag and tag. Measurements down to the centimeter on item location--we're doing this by the book, folks," Cecily instructed the forensics team. She gave them a bit of a look and a moment later, she returned her attention to Keystone and Caesar.

"They're with me, full access and whatnot," Cecily said, before stepping under the crime scene tape, and motioning for Keystone and Caesar to follow her. The pair of them followed; the elder Mexican doing do wordlessly, concentrating on the scene and parts beyond, and Keystone displaying his private security/inspection credentials (just in case). "Yupyup, case related, ya frigs..." he rolled out nonchalantly, following up with a whisper of "Thanks, Miss Cecily." The two looked a little out of place, surrounded by city employees and trailing the very young Coroner. Per orders, Keystone stuck close to Cecily, seeing to his role as bodyguard. Caesar, on the other hand, snapped into Investigator mode. "Have an ID yet? And can you show me where it happened?" If nothing else, it might show him where this woman could have gone, if it was indeed her who did the killing. She had a long overdue appointment with her own disemboweling.

The ride was a blur for felix. But at the same time, it was like an endless slog for him. Feeling the road whiz by yet not able to see it as it did so. He food vaguely see Riley and he wanted to say some words but as he opened his mouth slightly, the events hit him again. He remembered the whole event suddenly, something he'd been avoiding during the ordeal, trying to think of the future positively. But the bleakness of the situation hung over him like a mIstanbul. He had almost died. Another man had died. And for what? For his own selfish needs, to find out more.

Before he knew it he was being wheeled inside and he tried to sit up, but to no avail. He was restricTed but wasn't that better when he thought about it. He wanted to know more so what did he do? Murder was the solution, murder and chaos always easked the story along but he always preferred not to be a direct cause. He looked up. Wincing as the pain surged through his nervous system. It seared and felt like it was burning into his skull.

He laid back and looked up. What was going to happen to him now hm? He sat and waited. Looking for where Riley had went and grit his teeth. He couldn't fix this mistake or lie about it. He was the cause and if he could stop that man from dying he would. His name was written all over that ordeal and chances were he wasaid going to pay for it.

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Justice Asylum: - Marc nodded and took Jaina over to the room and set her down carefully. Pushing her hair out of her face. Looking around he grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her, tucking her in before stepping out of the room ad shutting it, he could hear the lock setting in place.

Walking over to Cynthia's room as he looked around grinning from ear to ear he nodded to the orderlies as he passed. "I got her, go ahead and deal with the other stuff." THe looked at each and shrugged, walking off; they had had enough to watch over that day as far as they were concerned. Marc sighed before stepping over to her as she leaped and gave him a big hug, tucking her head under his chin. Marc could only sigh and give a small smile as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close like an older brother protecting his little sister.

"You okay? You seem sad?" Cynthia asked quietly as she rested her head on his chest.

"Just don't want to loose anyone else Cynthia," Marc said in a depressed voice. "I want to keep you safe, Riley safe, the rest of our friends."

"Don't worry! I'm safe, I have an angel," she said looking up at him and smiling brightly.

Marc got a confused look on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Mom, wel duh."

"Honey, you mom couldn't protect a fly," he laughed a little remember Cynthia's family back in Grimm.

Cynthia burst out laughing. "She isn't my mom," Cynthia chortled.

That was news to him. As far as he or anyone in Grimm knew The McMillans were Cynthia's birth parents but then looking back on it she really didn't look like them all that much and the family had moved into Grimm when Cynthia was about a year old. Marc leaned back and gripped Cynthia's shoulders. "Cynthia, who is your mom?"

"Me," a voice said fro the doorway.

Down the hall and around the corner was where things were getting bagged and tagged. Mostly the body that was. The orderlies walking back over and looking around. "Oh good, we don't have to play mop up this time," one of the orderlies said to the other. The crime scene was a mess obviously. "You need anything from us or can we go on break?" the other one asked just out there, letting the words hang in the air. He wasn't sure who to ask. A doctor or a cop. Either way they both were covered in blood from the struggle and obviously wanted to get of the evidence.

Zoies Farm: - Zoie looked over at Mali and cocked a brow, she hadn't expected that but then again she didn't know the woman. She figured she might as well lay it out on the table, the woman certainly wasn't accepting it was just good old southern hospitality. Granted, in a way it was but there was more to it. Normally she wouldn't let on more than she absolutely had to but this involved her brother and well...

"Well don't want ya to think ya's gonna owe me but yeah, there's more be goin' on. Might wanna have a seat," Zoie said as she rubbed her hands along her pant legs. Resting back on the couch she draped her arms over the arm and the back respectively, getting comfortable.

"Zoie what's going on?" Relic asked looking at his sister take on a more serious face than he was used to.

Sighing she looked down. "Part of it... well it's tryin' to make 'mends for what I did to Thana," she said grimly. Relic half froze but nodded. There was obviously history there in the family.

"How... how are you doing that?" Relic asked nervously.

"I, I been workin' with Marc... Undercover. Gettin' in with Juno, recruitin'. We been slowly bringin' people that could help brin' down the group from the inside. I thoughts we had gotten somewhere. I was supposed to meet with Vesta to get the name of their hit woman but then she ended up dead. They must have found out," Zoie said before shaking her head.

"Vesta? You mean Gonzalez? Alicia from Boston Heights?" Relic asked half surprised as he quickly looked over to his sister and then Mali.

"Yeah, that be her. I met her when I was in Seattle. Good, trained, dad came from the right background. She was next in line to take over a major corporation. She was the perfect target for Juno to want to bring into the fold. But seems someone got to her first," Zoie explained.

"Persephone?" Relic asked pulling at his fingers.

"Proserpine actually."

"Well it's all Greek to me."

"Actually no, it's Latin, Roman. But naw, she didn't kill Alicia. "

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Cause I was... entertainin' her all night."

"Whoa... I didn't know you ~coughs~ swung that..."

"Bro what you don't know abouts me could fill the grand canyon," Zoie said looking over towards Mali.

Justice Memorial Hospital: - Felix was rushed back. "Felix, stay still but listen. You have severe trauma to your eye. And it is hemorrhaging. We have to take you back for surgery," the voice of Natasha Brinne echoed. A soft reassuring smile on her face as she squeezed his hand. She had planned to go home but had gotten a call to meet with Dr. Chang. The Er was packed when she arrived, they were short doctors so Dr. Chang had asked Natasha to stick around for a little bit until they cleared out some patients.

"Okay, get OR 1 ready, call in Dr. Leo. I'll scrub up to assist. Let's move people," Natasha ordered quickly before they started to wheel him off towards the elevators. Sighing Natasha pushed back her hair from her face. She was tired and her meds and recovery were not making it easy. She just needed to get through this patient. Dr. Leo would take the lead on this one, he was good and while Natasha could have done it she knew she wasn't at the top of her game right then. She wasn't going to put a patient in danger.

Seeing the cop was done with the woman that had come in with Felix she stepped over to the two as the cop told Riley thank you and gave her a card in case she remembered anything else. "Hi, I'm Dr. Brinne. I will be assisting on your Mr. Hausten's surgery. I just wanted you to know we have him stabilized and he is in good hands. The surgery is going to take at least six hours and then he will be in recovery. He won't be able to take visitors until tomorrow mid morning at the earliest. You may want to go home and try to get some rest. If you give me your number I can call you when we are out of surgery and give you an update."

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Riley sat down in a nearby chair as the police officer asked her what had happened, taking a deep sigh as she started to give him her full statement on what had exactly gone on back at the asylum and what she saw what had gone down. Riley started to wonder if giving her statement would get Cynthia in trouble, she did end up gouging out Felix's eye and then the crazed girl Jain killing the orderly. When she finished Riley gave the officer a friendly smile and nod as she accepted the card, slipping it into her pocket Riley leaned back in the seat pulling out her phone to see if there was any update from Marc or if Cecily had replied to her texts.

When they didn't reply Riley turned her attention towards Natasha Brinne as the woman approached her, to give her an update on Felix's condition she was glad to hear he was stabilized, and he was in good hands. "Thank you Dr. Brinne." Riley said giving Natasha a friendly smile, and gave her a slight nod as she reached for a pen. "You can reach me at these numbers." She started to write down both her cell phone number as well as the number to the apartment. "I'm Riley Ridgeway by the way, just keep me updated on any changes." She said handing her contact information to Natasha, she felt bad the guy would be in surgery for the next few hours and made note to go and check up on him when he is able to have visitors.

Then the thought of going back to apartment came back, Riley bit her lower lip for a moment she hadn't heard anything from Marc just yet though the thought of going back home just to wind down. "I have a friend, I think he will come by and pick me up when hes finished." Riley said, until she heard from Marc she would wait for awhile longer before leaving. Though the thought of going back to her apartment alone using public transportation did make her nervous and she wasn't sure if another drive by would happen again like the one that killed Chloe earlier today.

Mali took a seat and crossed her arms over her chest. Whatever Zoie was about to say would probably be worth keeping note of in her head. Well, that along with most everything she had learned today. Mali made a mental note to write down everything later so that she'd be less likely to forget/confuse any important details she might have picked up within the last 24 hours. Maybe it would pay to invest in a diary, make it a bit more difficult to suppress any information she happened to gather in the likely case that she got the Tony Soprano treatment.

Assuming Zoie wasn't lying (a completely plausible possibility), Mali took away a few things of note from the following conversation:

• Zoie's actions are motivated by guilt. Any actions she takes will likely serve towards clearing such feelings.
• The conspiracy was named Juno, at least informally. A name, official or not turned an unknowable threat to a known one. It brought it one step closer towards something that could be tackled.
• Everyone who had died over the past week had some connection to Juno.
• Juno had multiple special hitmen operating within the city
• More importantly, Juno wasn't an enemy that could be easily pinned down even from a perceived inside.
• Zoie was either bisexual, or really dedicated to her undercover agent status. Not actually important for the greater issue, but it was something she couldn't stop her brain from filing away for later.

When Zoie looked at Mali after that last bit about the grand canyon, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What are you looking at me like that for? Sure Mali might have stolen a glance or two at Zoie's keister when she was leading the way into the house, but as far as she knew, she hadn't done anything that would explicitly state her sexuality. Well unless she was just being stereotyped based on her choice of dress and masculine mannerisms, which would be fair enough. Then again, she may have been overthinking things anyways. Mali pushed aside those thoughts to focus on the topic at hand.

"So your plan to fracture Juno from within failed. I assume you want help with a new plan from here on out? Or maybe you're still going to go ahead with this current path you've set up with that FBI agent." Mali uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, laced her fingers together and rested her head on her hands.

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With the events of the day (and by extension, the last few weeks), it felt good to have Keystone shadowing her, serving as a bodyguard. It also added a certain aura of legitimacy for the young coroner. She figured that there would be those who wouldn't respect her, mostly from her short stature, young age, and lack of inexperience compared to old pros like Wallace. But with Keystone and Caesar hanging around her, she figured people would be a bit intimidated into taking her seriously.

After getting directions from one of the forensic techs, Cecily entered the asylum and headed to the crime scene. She grabbed a pair of gloves from the same tech and snapped them on, looking over the grizzly scene. There was blood everywhere, as well as the body of an orderly on the ground. Bagging and tagging was underway, mostly in regards to the body, and Cecily couldn't help but think this would be a wonderful exercise in blood spatter analysis.

"Yes, just a few quick questions," Cecily said to the orderlies. Glancing down at the body, she figured he was an employee here at the asylum. "Could you give us a breakdown of what happened? Identification of the victim as well? And then, if you could put the blood stained clothing into evidence--I imagine you won't be wanting it much longer."

She blew a piece of her hair out of her eyes, not wanting to touch her hair with her gloves. It looked a bit comical, but she didn't care. Evidence contamination might not have been her biggest problem, but it was certainly up there. "We'll also be sweeping the facility in general," Cecily notified the orderlies. They'd need to find Proserpine before it was too late--and she wouldn't have been shocked if Caesar had already gotten started on that mission. But without her dealing with the crime scene, they wouldn't have been able to enter.

"If you have security camera footage, we'd love to get a copy of it."

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Iris had been about to leave and fetch the sorbet for Cynthia, when she heard Marc dismiss the orderlies. She didn't know this man and had no knowledge of what capacity he was there in. All she knew was that he seemed to be familiar with Cynthia and possess a great deal of confidence, as well as skill in using a gun. Quickly, she changed course and headed after him, going into Cynthia's room. As she walked in, she saw the two embraced in a familial manner, and she smiled a bit to herself.

Standing in the room with them, Iris let them chat, seeing what looked like a sane Cynthia. Now this was a woman she could understand being placed in a halfway house. There must have been some event that triggered her--the entire chaos with Valentine--and then there was the scene in the visiting room, of course. Her insanity made sense, in a way. But then the conversation seemed to take a dark turn, and Iris frowned ever so slightly.

Jenny Green? Iris wondered, her mind recalling the picture she had seen earlier. Her memory was photographic, after all. If Cynthia's mother was actually an adoptive mother, it would explain the "aunt" who came to visit her in Seattle. It put more context to the strangeness of the visit. And as a voice called out from the doorway, Iris nearly jumped, gasping a bit in surprise. She had been so focused on Cynthia, she hadn't even noticed someone come to the doorway.

Iris looked over at the stranger, with a horrible feeling in her stomach. For a moment, she regretted not answering her brother's calls and texts. But it was silly, she reassured herself. She was perfectly safe--Cynthia just happened to have received another visitor during all of the chaos. "Miss Green?" Iris asked, looking at the woman. She wanted to believe that nothing was the matter--but it was also her duty to protect and help Cynthia. The very least she could do was confirm the identity of the visitor.

And hope that the Relic fellow had been terribly wrong.

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For whatever reason, the city coroner's staff had refused to answer Caesar's questions about the scene. His query concerning the actual site of the crime was met with vapid stares at best, though mostly he was ignored. This was despite Cecily's insistence that they had full access. Looking at the sea of apathy washing around him, the older man held his arms outstretched as a man might when expressing sincere disbelief. Caesar himself merely added a sigh of disgust to the situation and called to his associate, still with the young Coroner.

"Oye!"

Keystone turned around to see his boss pull security credentials from his wallet and clip them to the front of his jacket. He motioned for the big man to do the same. Anyone looking closely would see that they were private security, but having some form of external ID gave their presence a sort of legitimacy. The rest (as with many things) was attitude. As Keystone clipped his own MSS identification to his shirt front, Caesar took it upon himself to follow the stream of civil service worker bees from the lot out front into the building. He loosened his gun in its holster, likewise one of his handful of sharp implements. If no one was going to give him direct answers, then damnit, he was going to find out himself. Before he set foot inside the building proper, Caesar punched a quick message into his secure satellite phone to Keystone.



He gave it a few seconds to get through, looking back at the Cockney monolith. Keystone gave him a quick thumbs-up, and returned to his duties.

So far as his duties were concerned, this was the bread-and-butter of his average workday. Stay near the client, keep observant, assist as necessary, and be intimidating when need called for it. He was the 600 lb. gorilla that followed orders until the proverbial excrement traded solid, kinetic energy the the blades of an analog air-moving device. Then it was his turn to issue commands. That hour, Keystone existed as the crushing, physical arm that flexed and retracted with a massive, ham-sized fist, directed by and for the best interests (or merely convenience) of young Cecily Ashworth, unless directed otherwise by the one person on scene capable of doing so. Luckily for him, that person was leaving the immediate area.

Keystone's demeanor changed into something somewhat more professional, as opposed to the restaurant or in his car. His posture straightened and eyes narrowed, chin lowering just a bit in response to his new set of responsibilities. He maintained his proximity to Cecily, though not so close as to get in her way in the instance of a sudden direction change throughout the course of her job, staying mostly to her back right flank. "Ma'am?" he rumbled to Cecily. Somehow, his voice got even deeper. "You let me know if'n you need me on somethin'. Anything at all. I'm y'Brute Squad tonight." He then set to keeping his eyes and ears on the scene.

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Justice Asylum: - Marc's eyes snapped over to the woman who spoke and Cynthia looked up and then beamed with the brightest childlike smile. "Mommy!" she cried out and rushed over to her, wrapping her arms around the woman and hugging her tightly. The woman's arms came around Cynthia slowly but she returned the hug and rested her hand on the back of Cynthia's head.

"Saw the mess, you okay?" she asked, ignoring the question from Iris but keeping an eye on her and Marc as Cynthia continued to cling on her.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! I painted the prettiest picture! And then another girl painted an even prettier one! She was awesome mom!" Cynthia said brightly, as if they were talking about crayons and paper instead of crayons and blood.

Marc didn't like this one bit, he had never seen this woman in his life. Not when it was concerned with Cynthia that was. But he knew her face, he had seen her in files before but there was nothing that could ever be tied to her. Marc took a protective step in front of Iris and kept his vest and jacket pulled back, making sure he had quick access to his gun. He wasn't going to hesitate putting a bullet through her skull if needed.

The woman smirked a bit as she watched Marc move. "Cynthia, sweetie, we are going to play a little game."

"Oooo! What game," she asked enthusiastically.

"Hostage, play along sweetie, I'll get you a gallon of strawberry quick if you do good," she said s the cold smirk grew. Marc felt a knot in his stomach but before he could draw his gun the woman had spun Cynthia around and placed her in a hold with syringe of blue liquid pressed to her neck. Cynthia looked so excited but then she realized the game was one and she started to look panicked.

"Let her go..." Marc growled as he pointed his gun towards the woman but she kept Cynthia well placed in front of her.

"Oh no! Help! Let me go!" Cynthia screamed out, whether or not she was playing at this point was anyone's guess, perhaps it was both. The syringe partially pushed into her throat and it was clear the wince of pain was real.

"Now, let's not be stupid. You pull the trigger and I get hit my hand tenses and you can say by by to the girl," the woman stated coldly.

Over in the "attack room" the orderlies gave a quick run down of what they had seen and took the bags to put their clothing in, they would need to find some thing else to wear first. "Security cameras? Yeah, those are on the fifth floor main building to the west. Administration. They can get you a copy, we aren't allowed in there. Only Admin, Security, and well cops, but figure you count under the cop umbrella."

Zoies Farm: - Zoie looked over to Mali and nodded a bit. "Wells it has an hasn't. Alicia being killed has done some major damage to their front, they be looking for someone to replace her now. Thing is finding someone with her skill. They don't like the three legged versions of our species," she said glancing over at Relic. "Strict girls club. Like Mean Girls on steroids," she said before leaning forward and rubbing her hands together.

"Hey," Relic said but letting whatever he was going to say pass.

"Right now I gots to wait to hear back from my handler in Juno. I can'ts be risking getting in contact with Marc until things calm down and right now, don't be looking like it gonna be calming down anytime soon." Taking a breath she leaned back on the couch and her brow perked as she watched Mali. "Rights now I need a damn good cover story to cuts back on my clients," she added.

"Zo! You mean you actually? You know?" Relic asked stumbling over his words as the realization of what his sister did actually and fully dawned on him.

"Yeah, ain't nothin. Oldest profession and all that jazz," she said chuckling. The shade of red in his face was totally worth his embarrassment in her eyes.

"But I mean, you..." he tried to say and Zoie couldn't help but laugh and roll her eyes. Clearing his throat and trying to appear helpful he finally asked a question. "So um, how would you cut down? You know on.. clients?"

Zoie smiled and glanced towards Mali. "I take on an exclusive."

Justice Memorial Hospital: - Natasha took the paper and nodded before folding it up and tucking it into her pocket. "I will, since you are going to wait you are welcome to wait in the family room. If there are any updates before you leave I will make sure to come to you directly. Let me know if there is anything else you need," she said as she gave Riley her card before rushing off to the ER. She had work to do and while she wasn't the lead surgeon on this case she could at least assist and make sure things went alright. Not that she had any doubts in the surgeon that was on the lead, he was excellent but Felix came in and was her patient. She would see it through.

On her way to the ER she texted Cecily to let her know what was going on, glad she had entered all the pertinent numbers into her cell when she was back in the morgue earlier that day. "Had to report to the Hospital for an emergency. We are code black here. Will be in surgery most of the night, some kid had an eye gouged out. Will do my best to make the flight in the morning." - Hitting send as she moved through the halls towards the OR she shoved her phone back into her pocket and stuck her ear bud in her lobe in case she got something back. Thank god for wireless.

The waiting room for families was a bit nicer than the Er waiting room that was for sure. Couches and comfortable chairs. Coffee, other drinks, snacks and so forth were laid out for the few people in there. It was far less crowded than the main room. There was a TV in the corner with Amy Adam's report from earlier being replayed. The few people in there were huddled together, seemed and looked like they were all members of a single group. Though they didn't stay long, something about going to visit the hospital chapel to pray from the eldest woman in the group before the walked out and headed down the hallway.

Then the help scream rang out and the orderlies eyes widened. "What the fuck now?" one of them grunted. Down the hallway Cynthia was backing out of the room slowly being held tight by her mom and being half drug down the hallway towards the back of the wing floor, away from the rest of everyone. Doc, stay in here," Marc said as he followed, his gun trained on the woman but he couldn't pull the trigger yet, he couldn't risk Cynthia.

Mali kept up a stone-faced facade as she did some mental math on the situation. If you had asked her that morning where she saw herself being in 12 hours, this wouldn't necessarily be bottom of the list, but it would be pretty far down there. She wasn't all that shocked about the revelation of prostitution, it wasn't really all that far off from some of the stuff she did to make a living, it was the everything else around it that was throwing her for a loop.

"So if I'm getting this straight, you want me to join in Juno undercover and act as your cover story. There's a few problems I see here. From everything I've gathered, members of Juno seem like they would all be pretty well-accomplished women. Sure I've got a University degree, but that's not saying much these days, nor do I have a lot of special skills. Then there would be my role as your 'exclusive.' I'm some kid from the suburbs who's found herself living in the big city. Nobody's going to believe I have the funds to dominate enough of your time to require cutting down on other clients. ...Unless you're just asking me to pose as your girlfriend." Talking through one's thoughts does a great job of showing that one is over-thinking like crazy, and things could be much simpler than they seem.

Pathetic, that was a very accurate way to describe how Felix felt in his current situation. But the overwhelming feeling of self-blame hung over him like a blanket, blocking out his capacity to think properly, this coinsided with the pain well. As he was wheeled to elevators and then to the operating room, it was like he couldn't move. Like he was submerged in some sort of tank, unable to help himself. A mistake away from death, the pain flooding through him like a current of electricity. Truly he was a screw up. From the day he was born to the day where he got stabbed in the eye with a fucking crayon and his actions led to another man dying, let alone the rest of the chaos that was no doubt unfolding due to the asylum incident.

This doctor, Natascha Brinne, he couldn't fixate much on her with his free eye but from what she said, she knew what she was doing. Even if she wasn't the one in charge, he could tell he wasn't being given to sub-par surgeons who'd let him bleed out. From what he heard, he'd be stuck for a day, a day to think. To decide what to do. He wished the pain would go away, so he could think again. To get rid of the guilt. God did he need a drink or something, something to make all this go away. He looked up at the surgeons he was no doubt near, giving them a small squint before laying his head down flat again. This would be over soon, he knew that. But what came next was daunting and a journey into the unknown.

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Cecily nodded, making mental notes of the information the orderlies gave her. It looked like an open and shut case: patients go nuts, orderly killed in the process, civilian wounded. The only critical involvement from her office would be ruling the death of the orderly as a homicide, which would severely affect the life of one of the patients. And while she did want to treat this crime scene like any other, she was slightly distracted. There was a murderer loose in the asylum that she was far more concerned about: Proserpine.

"Thank you," Cecily replied, a bit irritated that the security footage was in a different building. Her phone then vibrated with another text, and from the chance that it was Iris, she pulled it out. Reading quickly the text from Natasha, she grimaced. The hospital hardly seemed like the safest of places. She typed out a quick reply and sent it off:

Okay. Be safe! -C.A.

Putting her phone back away, she glanced back at Keystone, contemplating their next move. On one hand, Cecily wouldn't have been surprised if Proserpine had already destroyed any security footage. And with her being caught on live TV, the main benefit of those tapes, as far as she could figure, would be in ruling the orderly's death as a homicide. "We'll get those tapes on the way out, then."

It was irritating as well, the fact that the orderlies didn't have a change of clothing with them, but understandable. Her attention kept getting pulled in two directions, but when she heard the screams and the orderlies cursed in surprise, Cecily's eyes widened. "I bet my broomstick it's her," she told Keystone, realizing once again her proximity to the insane woman who had attempted to murder her. They'd have to catch her this time--they'd have to.

"This is probably more your area...I don't have a chemical test for this, so...Let's go get her, then?" Cecily asked, looking at the larger, professional man. She was terrified of Proserpine, but she was motivated as well. She could only hope the scream hadn't been her cousin's, but the accent sounded off. Though for all she knew, Iris might have screamed like that. The girl was funny like that.

And where the hell was Roy?!

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Iris felt sick to her stomach watching the interaction between Cynthia and her mother. The resemblance between the two was uncanny, and while Iris knew that personality meant nothing when it came to blood relations, she couldn't help but find similarities between the two of them. Both of them seemed to have lost their grip on reality, in one way or another. While Cynthia's came out more in innocence, the other woman seemed to radiate danger.

As Marc stepped in front of her, his vest fanned out slightly, Iris felt goosebumps running up and down her arms. Her arm hair stood on end and she was almost transfixed, watching a situation unfold that her education never prepared her for. It was the type of situation that arose in books and films, in her experience--what little experience she had, at that. She swallowed thickly as the woman pressed the syringe against Cynthia's throat. The pain it caused her was clear and Iris' heart broke a little more each moment, watching the events unfold.

There was little she could do to help her patient, as Cynthia was dragged out of the room. She watched as Marc followed, nodding at the agent with his request for her to stay there. She was gripped by fear for what could happen to Cynthia, feeling that she had failed the girl. She took a shaky breath, her fingers feeling numb, as she pulled out her phone and sent a text to everyone whose information she had in the asylum:


She wasn't sure what help it would bring, what with the asylum already in lock down, but she was a hopeful person at heart. Maybe they'd be able to block all the exits and free Cynthia from her "mother." The very least they could do would be to try. She could hear the screams of help and her heart broke once more for the girl.

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Riley gave Natasha a slight nod and smile. "Thank you Dr. Brinne." Riley said as she took Natasha's card looking down at it as she headed off to the OR, Riley lightly twirled the card around in her fingers before turning around and made her way down the hallway. As she entered the room Riley looked around, it was really nice looking, as she looked around some more Riley spotted some of the coffee that was set up along with some snacks. Riley slowly made her way over towards the coffee and started pouring herself a glass, turning her attention towards the tv screen that was set up in the room. Seeing the news report that was being played earlier in the day made her bite her lower lip, as she looked at the group of people in the room that were huddled over by the tv.

Riley started to take another sip of the coffee, and walked over sitting down on one of the couches as she watched the news that was on running a hand through her hair she let out a soft sigh. She really needed a drink, or get wasted tonight today was bad enough as it was Riley worried about Marc and Cynthia back at the asylum. Riley watched as the group of people turned around and started to leave the room, hearing something about the chapel within the hospital.

She was truly never religious unlike her brother and her parents, Riley shuddered at the thought when she was younger her and Chloe were practically forced to go every Sunday or any religious holiday. The thought passed her mind just following the group into the chapel, the room itself seemed to be empty for the most part. Riley finished up drinking her coffee, looking at the news for a few more seconds before deciding to see what the group was doing. Riley got up and started to go down the hallway and then followed them for a little bit longer until she was there, Riley leaned up against the wall at the entrance to the chapel looking over at the people inside.

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Keystone could hear the scream, too. It was difficult not to. His first impulse in instances like this was usually to advance and pummel the potential threat senseless, but he had a higher priority at that point; keeping Cecily safe. Big, scary bodyguard. But Caesar wanted him to come along to help him locate (and potentially bring suffering upon) the woman he greatly suspected murdered his daughter. If Cecily's guess was correct, and this was the woman in question, he would have to make a move, and immediately. Hell, if Caesar knew that he was nearby and let her slip through his fingers without so much as a quick peek to observe, his continued employment would be called into question. At the very least. He had to go. But Cecily...

But Cecily solved his dilemma for him. Upon voicing her desire to "go get her", it absolved him of any obligation to hang back or the purposes of protecting his charge. She wanted to go closer and he was her huge, hulking shadow. But first, he had to let Caesar know what was about to happen. I this lady was as dangerous as he'd been led to believe, he wanted backup on its way; the type of backup that had little qualms with getting their hands dirty. Keystone quickly dug his phone from his pocket and activated a Voice to Text option and spoke into the device. "Text El Jefe."



"Right then, let's get to it." said Keystone, slipping his phone away and drawing a his rarely utilized sidearm, a beast of a hand cannon bearing the stamp of "Desert Eagle .50". The big man's training had him with a preference for more brutal melee combat, but he wasn't taking any chances, as personal as this was. "Keep behind me, yeah?" he told Cecily, and began a cautious jog in the direction of the ruckus. As they neared a corner, Keystone glanced back at his young charge, asking, "Broomstick, eh?" before continuing onward.

Meanwhile, on a lower floor, Caesar had busied himself looking for possible means of egress one might take unnoticed, as well as signs that they may have been used recently. When he received the message from Keystone, upstairs, he broke off at a run. Elevator excluded, anyway. It would take a bit longer for him to reach the scene, obviously, but he would get there soon. Hopefully, soon enough.

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Justice Asylum: - The message went out that they had a hostage situation but that meant that the cops were supposed to take care of and the staff was to put the rest of the place on lock down and make sure the other patients were as safe as they could be. With the place already a crime scene, there were cops there but these were investigating an beat cops. This wasn't SWAT, hostage negotiations, or the like. It would be a while before back up got there. The cops that were there, did what they could to get the street cleared and people pushed back and hopefully out of harms way.

Caesar, in his looking, would find evidence of someone jimmying the front entrance where people usually got buzzed in and the back stair well. It made it easy for him to go up the couple of flights of stairs. Who ever had done this knew what they were doing but they were obviously in a hurry and not trying to cover their tracks.

Up on floor "Hell" one couldn't tell if Cynthia was playing or in actual fear for her life but she kept backing up as her mother pulled her along. Marc stood in the hallway at the corner, facing them and pointing his gun towards the woman, yet he had yet to take as shot. He didn't want to hit Cynthia. Sure she had been a complete monster in High School but that wasn't who she was anymore. Okay, sure she liked painting pretty pictures with peoples bodily fluids but it wasn't her fault. Being falsely imprisoned in a looney bin and put through treatment she was never meant to have would break anyone.

"Let her go," Marc said calmly as he took a step forward. Catching the view of Cecily and some mammoth of a man coming towards him. A quick see to look them over before his eyes went right back to Cynthia and her so called mother. He spotted the badge on Keystone and Cecily didn't seem to be there against her will, so he focused on the obvious threat. Though a thought did cross his mind, he wondered if the man with Cecily could pull a train with his teeth. Fuck he was large.

"Not gonna happen Tinder, now back off!" the woman spat, jamming he needle a little deeper into Cynthia's throat muscles. Marc cocked a brow, how in the hell did she knew his name?

"Just take it easy, we can work this out."

"Drop the gun or she's dead."

Any other mother, Marc would have questioned whether or not a mother would really kill her own child but the look in this woman's eye told him she would have no problem pushing in the plunger. Holding his hands up slowly, he kept the gun in one hand not yet ready to put it down on the ground. "Easy now, you don't want to hurt her. She's your daughter right? Looks just like you," he said trying to buy time.



Zoies Farm: - Relic couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just looking over at his sister slack jawed. Had she really just suggested what he thought he heard her suggest? He shook his head quickly, as if to clean out the cobwebs from his ears. He had to be hearing things. Turned out he wasn't. Mali started talking and Relic could his jaw would have become unhinged. Was she not only not saying no, she was discussing it. Granted most of what she was saying was reasons why it wouldn't work, though she had posed an alternative.

"And I'm a high school graduate with no formal education from backwoods Ga," Zoie said nonchalantly as she leaned back on the couch and sat in repose, taking on a much more formal tone and losing her accent. "Sure, degrees and money help. That was if we were going to use your real name and life story. You need a cover story no matter what. Exclusive or girlfriend, even body guard: be best if we tried to keep your real identity hidden. You can be anything you want to be," she added slyly as she ran her fingers over the back of the couch.

"And just how are you going to get a fake identity for her," relic finally chimed in.

"You." Her answer was flat and blunt. Relic hadn't even considered it but he understood why she said him. One he was close, she knew she could trust him. Two he had skills. Three, which he didn't know just how much or little his sister was aware of, he had been keeping pretty close tabs on Boston Heights, so he knew how to wipe the files and videos of Mali from there. The more he thought of it, the more he realized they might actually be able to pull this off.

Justice Memorial Hospital: - Pushing her way into the operating room, Natasha held her hands out and let the nurse glove her. the lead doctor was already in there and they were now just waiting on the anesthesiologist, who was still scrubbing up. Iv's had been taken care of, fluids were running, but that was all right then. they couldn't do much until Felix was under for the surgery.

A few whispered words were exchanged between the lead and Natasha before she looked down at Felix. "This is going to take a while, just relax, the time will fly for you," she said from behind her mask but her eyes held a kindness to them.

"You'll be out in no time," the anesthesiologist said as he came in and plopped down behind Felix. Taking the mask he placed it over Felix's mouth and nodded. "Now, just look at Dr. Brinne and breath deeply," he added as he turned the gas on. "Ten, nine, eight, seven," the man said as he started to count down until one. Felix would be out cold before he hit five.

Checking his vitals, the lead gave the go ahead to start. This would not be quick. They would be in surgery for up to eight hours and then at least another two before Felix would wake up in recovery. Ten hours to see whether the eye could be saved or not, and if not what they could do to minimize the pain and adjustment. Either way, it was going to be a very long night ahead.

Over in the Chapel, nothing was happening. Nothing accept for a family sitting there praying for their loved one. every so often one of them would look over and spot Riley just standing there. It didn't look like she was there to pray but to watch them. One of them finally got up and walked over to her. "Listen," he said in a thick Mexican accent. "You not here to pray, please leave. Our grief isn't your reality show," he said bluntly before walking back over to his family and wrapping an arm around the older woman.

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Riley's eyes scanned the room as she watched the family praying in the chapel, she was contemplating about just joining them as well when one of them a man started to approach her. She took a slight step back feeling slightly intimidated when he spoke, Riley looked at the grieving family that was there, she didn't mean to but she was going to respect their wishes. "I was just leaving, my condolences for your loss." Riley said with a sigh, as she turned around and decided to head back home. It was going to be a pretty long few hours with Felix being in the hospital over night, and she still didn't get a reply from either Cecily or Marc.

Riley walked over and sat down on the couch back in the family room and brought up the Uber app on her phone, and started to type in her location from Justice Memorial Hospital and to be dropped off at Boston Heights. She sat there for awhile and watched as the news played on the TV, she wasn't sure if she should text Marc or Cecily where she would be, and ultimately decided against it. They were probably busy doing their thing, she will do it when she got back home. Riley walked over grabbing a small bag of chips that were on the nearby table and turned around making her way over towards the Justice Memorial Hospital lobby to wait for the car to come and pick her up.

"Point taken." Mali looked over at Relic, who still seemed to be recovering from the dumbstruck the turn the conversation had taken. She couldn't blame him, the information must have come as a shock, and he didn't know she was gay which was probably a factor in being able to take the plan in stride. A dude making this same offer might have given her a bit more pause. Or perhaps she was handling the proposal better because of the bizarre circumstances she found herself living in.

"Alright, I'll act as your cover story for the time being. We can sort out all the details tomorrow. I'm starting to get sleepy, and there's still other things to take care of tonight." Mali stretched out her arms and rose from the couch, the furniture still carrying a faint indentation from where she'd been sitting. It was then that a thought that had been swirling in the lower parts of her cognition rose up to the top. Mali looked directly into Zoie's eyes and spoke with the utmost certainty, "If I end up like Alicia as a consequence of this plan of yours, I'm haunting your ass."

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Cecily couldn't help but be reminded of her parents when Keystone used a voice to text command, instructing his phone to text Caesar and dictating a message. Her mother and father relied on Siri a bit more than was healthy, and she had countless memories of time spent with them shouting at the phone to schedule appointments and to make calls. Of course, that was perhaps the only similarity between Keystone and her parents. Her parents were greedy lawyers and Keystone was a giant. Very different people.

"Gotcha," Cecily agreed, not thrilled about the possibility of being in the line of fire. Sticking behind Keystone, a walking mountain, seemed like a good idea, as cowardly as she felt it was. "It's a Harry Potter reference," Cecily added, as Keystone asked about the broomstick comment. She had started off saying it as a joke a few months back, but it eventually stuck in her vocabulary.

She hurried after him, grimacing a bit at the sound of screaming. She could only hope that whoever the hostage was, they were as lucky in their encounter with Proserpine as she had been. It wasn't long before they rounded the corner and Cecily's heart beat a bit faster, recognizing the blonde haired woman. Even after this was all over, she was sure that Proserpine would haunt her nightmares. The woman had a needle stuck into a hostage's neck, with a gun trained on her by none other than Marc Tinder. The truly shocking thing, however, was the revelation that the hostage was Proserpine's daughter.

She's batshit crazy, Cecily thought to herself, seeing a woman ready to kill her daughter and simultaneously going to extreme efforts to abduct her. For a moment, Cecily wished that someone would just shoot Proserpine already, even if it meant the hostage losing her life. But the instant the thought ran through her mind, she couldn't help but feel deeply ashamed. Proserpine may deserve to die, but that didn't give Cecily the right to disregard the hostage's safety.

But true to her promise, the young coroner kept behind Keystone, waiting for the Hulk-sized man to make a move. This was his element, not hers. If she wanted to survive this day, she'd need to treat his word as gospel, she figured.

Meanwhile, Iris was waiting apprehensively in Cynthia's room. She was tugging on her hair, wanting to go out and help, but knowing she'd ultimately only get in the way. The asylum had already mostly gone on lockdown after Jaina and Cynthia's attacks. If she was to leave the room, she'd only be putting herself in danger. Odds were, all of the other patients had been brought to safety. The SWAT team might not have been there yet, but she had to have faith. The only problem for the doctor, of course, was that this entire situation made her feel sick to her stomach. She couldn't help anyone.

They were professionals. He kept telling himself that, but around his brain, all he could think of was the most bleak and terrible scenarios. All of them running at once as they began preparing him for the anaesthesia. They could be in cahoots with the killers. They might know who he is. While he was out there was nothing he could do to stop them. Was Riley still there? Was Riley okay? He blinked a few times as the voices of Brinne and the surgeons swam around his head. Time was going to fly hm? If it wasn't for them about to drug him up he very much doubted that.

One. He blinked again, or would it be a wink now? he couldn't tell for sure, a google search for later. yes that was it. Two. He'd be out in no time, and they'd patch him up good as new, and he could repent, he could make up for the things that he did. Three. He was at fault, it was because of him the horror and terror broke out at the asylum. Four. If he had just focussed, kept to the shadows, been a good person. Five. Was living the best option for him.

With that, his eyes closed. Everything went numb as darkness consumed him, like falling into the abyss. He could hear shouting. It wasn't English. It was German. He recognised where he was. In Berlin, where he grew up. The wind was brisk and nippy but he liked it. He liked the feeling of being there. These were all just memories but he was watching as the four kids played before him. His brother and him. He looked at his hands. red. They were red. He touched at his face. More red. This wasn't just paint or pen. It was sticky, running down him. He turned from the scene, Laughter rang amongst the streets. He dipped into an alleyway, safety.

The alleyway offered more than safety however. A corpse, laying on the alley floor. Something bad arose in his mind. He stopped and fell back, staring into the sky, snowflakes landing around him. In his drug induced sleep this was the hell he was thrust into. His own memories. Something he took pride in being able to repress.