Branch was planning on making Will's win over Demoreo into a monumental event, putting up banners on each floor by the elevators, promoting the fight. Will was spending more and more time out in the parking structure training with Handsome Bill to prepare for the fight, something that Vera had never seen him do. Hell, he was even laying off of the booze a bit. This was being billed as the most important event in the arena's history, and the whole thing was just a giant sham to keep everyone spellbound.

Vera couldn't help but reflect on the profound sadness that she felt at seeing Demoreo as a sad husk of a human being. They genetically modified him beyond repair, with Branch's scientists having done everything that they could to erase any of his humanity. They wanted him to be a husk, a moldable plaything, to strike fear into the hearts of everyone who dared to oppose Branch. Demoreo was yet another tool, another instrument for Branch's new world order. Seeing him like that was difficult. Sure, he had physically transformed a long time ago, lost his ability to speak, but his mind was still mostly sound. At the time, handing him a notebook and a pen seemed futile, but he could capture his thoughts regularly. Vera kept the notebook, knowing that Branch and his goons would never let him hold on to something like that.

That notebook went against their programming. Dehumanizing someone makes it easier to do horrible things to them. History has shown that time and time again. Hitler dehumanized the Jews while torturing and murdering them because they weren't people anymore to him or his followers. While it felt extreme to compare Hitler and Branch considering their crimes, she was certain that Hitler wouldn't be able to protest being compared to Jordan Branch from the grave.

The notebook was in the top drawer of her desk; her pulling it out and flipping through it absently. She hadn't known Demoreo before he transitioned, but his story was similar to most of what she had heard. He had a family to worry about. One of his kids died and they turned up at Branch Tower with Demoreo on death's door. Branch took his family in, whisking them away to somewhere within the tower while Demoreo’s fate was out of his hands, immediately whisked to surgery. Demoreo had no clue what had happened to his family and was pretty sure they had no clue what had happened to him.

She had stopped bringing him the notebook after a while, him no longer able to write anything coherent in it. Instead, he looked pained, like he was being tortured. It felt like she was breaking his heart with every time she came to visit him with the notebook in hand, him unable to do anything beyond mash the pen against the paper. Abandoning him was tough for her, but he was one of the last bonds she held to another person and it hurt too much to keep going back there. She thought about bringing the notebook back to him one last time, to see if he could understand any of it, but it just seemed like a cruel and unusual punishment at this point.

The right move was in front of her the whole time, but it was one that she had dreaded even considering. The right move involved her finding Demoreo's family and sharing the notebook with them, to make sure that they found out what happened to him and how much he loved them. This was the only way that she could think of to keep Demoreo alive and let the Crusher just be one of Branch's sick experiments, not the walking memorial to a forgotten man. At this point it was too late for Demoreo, but there could be memories of him that persist beyond that hulk of a creature that Branch will use for whatever he has up his sleeve.

How to find Demoreo's family was another story. All that Vera knew was that his wife’s name was Shar and his son was named Tyler. There was Marie as well, but she passed away long before they made it to the tower. Branch kept most of what happened in Branch Tower quite segregated. There were many floors in the building and each one had its own purpose and population, each one different from the rest. Vera lived in one of the more posh floors of the building with Will and Jenna, which only gave a small view of what life was like at Branch Tower. Only those in Branch's inner circle knew what was going on throughout, and one of those been Will's creepy little brother, Stuart.

Tracking him down wasn't difficult, either. He spent most of his time down in the basement, checking on the various projects that Branch had going on and helping to organize combatants for the arena. Tonight was the big night of Will vs. the Crusher, which meant that he'd be around in the basement where she was. She strolled around for a bit, inquiring after him before she heard him cursing someone out. It was most likely over something minor, like everything in Branch Tower. The world had ended. Putting live action executions in an arena for bloodthirsty patrons hardly felt like a valid way to spend one's time, right?

"What was it now? Forget to remove the black jellybeans from Branch's bowl?"

"What? Oh, it's you," he sneered. "No, fuckin' cunt dropped one of the cannister lights. Only have so many, ya know?"

"Truly seems like a shame, huh?"

"I know, fucking bastard didn't get why it was—oh, I see what you are doing," he said. "Tryin' ta trick me again. I'm onto you."

"Looks like you've smartened up a bit, huh Stuart?"

"Fuckin' hell I have."

"Which reminds me, you pretty much know everything that goes on around here, right?"

"Like hell."

"Do you know where I could find somebody, then? I found this notebook, and I wanted to return it to the woman who dropped it."

"Give it here," he said. "I'll take care of it."

"I wanted to do this myself," she said, keeping it from his grasp. He couldn't see what was inside of that notebook, not that she believed he could really read or understand complex thoughts. She just didn't want to take any chances. "She has a bit of a debt to me, you see..."

"Oh fuckin' right on. You 'bout to do a little knee crackin' then? I like."

"Something like that."

"What's 'er name?"

"Umm, Shar Johnson, I think?"

"Johnson, Johnson," he said. "I dunno everyone here, but I can find out for ye."

"Great, thanks Stuart, you know where I'll be."

"Right, right, bugger off now, I got work to do."

Every part of her knew this plan was half-baked, at best. Stuart wasn't the smartest guy, but he was a loyal guy. If he did even a bit of cursory digging into why she wanted to find this woman or who she was, there could be trouble in a hurry. All it would take would be him telling Branch about her request and pandora's box would be opened up for her. She'd no longer be that clever girl that Will brought to the tower. She'd be an imminent threat, treated like TK Gabriel. Or worse. She shuddered, the convulsion coming with little prompting. Already being a prisoner was bad enough, but being locked in an actual cage would only compound her issues.

A few hours passed before the knock came to her door. Stuart had found the information that she was looking for, apparently without a problem. He wasn't acting any stranger than usual and seemed to have bought her cover story. They were on the fifteenth floor, living in room 1507. She was working in food preparation on that floor while Tyler was in training to be a guard, something that she assumed Demoreo would be disgusted by. They were doing what they needed to survive.

"Thanks, Stuart," she said. "I'm gonna go find them now."

"Naw, no point in that now. It's two hours to showtime, doll."

"Oh, wow. I had no idea it got that late. How's your brother doing?"

"Fine," he said. "Mostly, I guess. He's not loaded off of his lazy arse yet. He might stand a chance out there. That cocksucker."

"Do you really think that he can?"

"I dunno," he said. "I guess we'll have to see how it goes?"

"He'll be okay, Stuart," she placed her hand on his shoulder, him struggling away from her quickly and looking away. He wasn't the most emotional of people, especially not outwardly, but there was a flicker of concern inside of him over his brother's well-being.

"I fuckin' know, alright? Fucking Christ."

With that, he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Stuff like complex emotions existed within the rough exterior of the younger Farrington, just like it did within the bigger one, but much like his brother, it was well beneath the surface. Unlike his brother, though, Stuart was not one for the drink. His vice was violence. It always surprised Vera that he had opted to be a simple goon instead of fighting himself in the arena. He had fought in the arena once or twice, but he made nothing long term out of it. He saw the offer from Branch and it was his out. Maybe it was the fact that he was one of the few people allowed to carry a gun at all times? Having a rifle strapped to his back and a handgun at his hip seemed to suit him quite well compared to playing to crowds.

Vera still had time to grab something to eat and clean herself up before the festivities that night, so she figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to show up looking presentable, considering her station. Plus, if she didn't show up or just hung around in the shadows, someone might take notice. This was all just a big show, wasn't it?