Rory was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Jessica walk into her room. She was so busy writing a new code and drafting a blueprint on her phone.

Jessica watched Rory, slightly surprised that she was so distracted by all the math and letters written all across the screen.

Wasn't Rory supposed to be getting rest? She was sick, right?

"Excuse me," Jessica cleared her throat, and Rory jumped. "I don't mean to interrupt, but dinner is ready. And I need to make sure that you're fed before I hand you any medication."

"Oh. Okay." Rory nodded and turned the screen off. She followed Jessica into the hallway, but the sound of shouting ahead stopped her. Jessica paused too. The women looked at each other before peering around the corner.

The shouting belonged to the N96 and an older man with similar hair color to the general, but it was shorter.

The older man was shouting at the general, while the general stood there not phased.

"Do you know what position you're putting me in? Astellians think that the Bracketers are the ones causing the bombs! What would they say if they found out that a Bracket woman is staying in the house of the Director of the Agency? Are you insane?"

"I brought her here because she needed a place to stay," Decha replied dully.

"Bring her to the camp at the edge of downtown where the rest of them are!"

"She is sick."

"Since when did you care about Brackets with medical conditions? They have Doctors! If anything, we could've administered healthcare while she was camped by the border!"

"I don't care." Decha spat, and his words came out like ice. It hurt Rory to hear him say that. "But I know what's right and what's wrong. She is not stable enough to stay at the camp."

"Says who?" Rory chimed in and despite the glare Jessica was giving her, she stepped forward pridefully.

"Rory, stay out of this," Decha warned her. This conversation was meant for him and his father. He knew his father wouldn't approve of his decision, but he didn't care. He knew that after some time, Director Chen would let it go.

"No, I'm not going to stay out of it. Can I be honest? No, I'm going to be honest whether you like it or not." Rory balled her fists and looked at her feet. "I've been so patient with everything that has been happening in the last few days. No one in this room will ever understand the amount of pain I feel."

"Says you." Theodore snorted at her. "Only a Bracketer would use such an excuse."

"Really? I wonder why?" Rory quipped. "Have you lost your father to a catastrophic event? Have you been berated, forced to stay locked away far from home, or almost thrown off a roof because of your nationality? Do you feel lightheaded? Do you feel guilty, regret, or hatred for being the way you are? Do you know the feeling of being forced to be hidden otherwise an angry mob of people will want to hurt you?"

Theodore didn't answer. Their eyes remained on her, and they stayed quiet. Not out of respect, but because they didn't feel the need to understand her.

"I don't understand you people. You the most, N96." She hissed at him. "What are you trying to do by keeping me here?"

"My job."

"What does your job exactly entail? You don't care for the Brackets, you don't care about its people. How the heck did you even find out about my condition? Was it also your job to find out everything about me because I'm a Bracketer?"

Decha stiffened and Rory got her answer. "You all know that the Bracketers are behind the bombings. So did you bring me here to question me, or to teach the Bracketers a lesson? Are you going to use my condition and make it worse?" Her breath became shaky. "Are you planning on secretly ending me?"

"You're crazy." Decha rolled his eyes. "You're thinking too much. Why would I bring you into my home? If I wanted to kill you, believe me, I would've ended you when I first found out you were a Bracketer."

"I don't know who to trust. How will I know that that woman won't operate on me while I sleep? How do I know if you're not drugging me? How do I know that you won't send my body to the Brackets as an act of revenge?"

"We'd never do that." Jessica stepped forward and crossed her arms. "I understand you may be stressed, Rory. But you're now putting all Astellians in a category like how you think we are to you."

"Maybe stressed?" Rory snapped at her. "I'm freaking terrified for my life right now."

Decha noticed the change in her breathing and took a step toward her. But she flinched.

"Calm down, Rory."

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can take care of myself!"

"The reason why you're here is that you can't." He turned back to Theodore with a scowl on his face. "She has IDS, and although in some cases there is a cure and a proper treatment plan, she is very sensitive to her environment."

"They will find out about her staying here, N96."

"So what? They can't do anything about it if they do. She is under my guardianship."

"You went to the council and legalized the document to say she's under your care?" Theodore hissed.

"Of course, how else would she be here?" Decha scoffed. "No one will dare come near her when they see my stamp. Not unless they want to cross me personally."

"How long are you keeping her here for?"

"Until the walls are rebuilt."

"No," Rory cut in again. "I'm not staying here for that long. I have to go find my father!"

"When your treatment is done, you can go and find him."

"You... are so..." Rory grumbled. She couldn't tell him that she was going to die. There was no cure. No treatment would help her. The medication was only slowing her death. It wasn't preventing it.

"How long does she have left until her treatment gets better?"

"I took her blood samples but we are waiting for the results," Jessica answered.

"Could you all just stop and listen to me for once!?" Rory snapped. "You're wasting your time! I don't want treatment, I don't want to be helped! What can't you understand about that!?"

"Why are you so persistent to refuse what can help you?"

"You don't understand..."

"What don't I understand?" Decha was about to lose it with her. His patience was running thin. Not only did she disrespect his family, but she's acting ungrateful by refusing the help that she needs.

"I... I'm..." Rory couldn't force it out. The letter she read tainted her mind. She felt immense pressure at her temples. Then her vision started to waver.

The words that described her death burned in her thoughts. The symptoms and side effects floated in the air, causing her to feel dizzy.

"I..." Rory grabbed onto her forehead and tried to force the words out of her vision. She blinked several times and felt her heart pounding.

"Catch her!" Jessica shouted the moment she saw Rory's body sway from side to side. In seconds Rory went straight down, and Decha quickly grabbed onto her and steadied her.

"I'm fine." Rory tried to pull away, but Decha firmed his grasp.

"You can't even hold yourself up and you're telling me you're okay?" He sneered at her.

"She's burning up!" Jessica felt her forehead. "When was the last time you slept, Rory?"

Rory shook her head and tried to push Jessica away. "Let me go." She groaned.

"She was supposed to be getting rest." Decha snapped.

"When I walked into her room, she was doodling something on the screen. She didn't even notice when I walked in. I think she may have been working on it all day."

"No one checked on her to stop her?"

"The Butlers didn't tell me anything was unusual!" Jessica frowned.

"I said, let me go!" Rory stumbled forward, but Decha scooped her body into his arms, ignoring her cries. "Get off of me!"

"Get her to the infirmary. Scan her to see what's happening." Theodore pointed to the right of the living room. There was a wider hallway that lead to more stairs and many more rooms.

"No! I don't wanna be scanned!" Rory kicked her feet, and Decha's wrists were starting to ache. It was healing from its sprain, but her moving around relentlessly was going to do damage.

Decha propped her up and strode down the hall quickly. He shoved past all the bodyguards and went straight for the open room full of medical supplies and tools.

"Let me go! Put me down!" Rory shouted at him, driving him over his limit. Decha tossed her onto the bed and grabbed a nearby rag.

"There, I put you down. Happy?"

Rory sat up quickly.

Although her vision was a bit blurry, she threw her legs off the edge of the bed and tried to walk out of the infirmary. But Decha shoved her back onto the bed and placed the rag, now wet and cold onto her forehead.

"Shut up, and sit still." His voice boomed over her. The command made her freeze. He sat next to her on a nearby stool and ran a hand through his hair.

Never has any Bracketer or woman, in general, acted like such a brat as the way Rory had.

He could feel the gray hairs growing out of his scalp. He was tempted to just take her outside in the cold and have the wild animals in the woods do what they please with her.

Rory's breathing softened, and her body relaxed on the bed. She closed her eyes and lost consciousness soon after. Her crankiness was probably from lack of sleep.

Decha was going to have to make a schedule for her. It's not that he wanted to control her, but she left him no choice but to. Had she been less resistant, she would've had more freedom.

Jessica walked in soon after with a frown. "We can't give her medication until she eats."

"Bring her food to me, and I'll make sure she's fed and given her medicine. By the time she wakes up, I'll have to head out to the council."

"I'll bring your food too. You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"I ate a protein bar on the way here." Decha dismissed her. "I'll be fine."

"My poor boy." Jessica sighed. "You were always such a hard worker. Don't forget to take breaks."

"I can't afford to. You know I can't."

"Yeah, I know."

"What's with the long face? You look like you have something to tell me." Decha changed the subject. He saw something else in his mother's eyes. She wasn't normally this down.

"Rory's blood samples just came back." Jessica turned her phone over for him to see the email she received.

Decha took the phone and gave it a closer look. The statement read that something was off about Rory's condition. "What's this supposed to mean?"

"I think her body is rejecting the medication." Jessica sighed. "It'll be hard to continue her treatment like this." Jessica walked over to Rory and began feeling up her arms and legs. "I need to see if there are any marks or— oh my gosh." Jessica gasped when she spotted a black mark under Rory's shirt.

She yanked the shirt higher, and Decha turned away, not wanting to look at her body inappropriately. "Where did this bruise come from!?"

"A student from Grandell tried to kill her." Decha glanced at the bruise but turned away again.

"That's why she is so hostile to us. It must've traumatized her, I'm sure."

"Traumatized or not, she needs to learn to get over it."

"Decha!" Jessica snapped at him. "That's not how I raised you to speak!"

"What happened, happened." Decha shrugged.

"You shouldn't advise on subjects you have no expertise in." Jessica crossed her arms. "I bet you still have visions of memories, Decha. Do you still get migraines from them?"

Decha closed his mouth. His mother had him cornered.

"Trauma is trauma. Just because you handle it one way doesn't mean that she has to do the same. Avon still has his episodes. But you don't judge him for it. What makes her any different?"

"It doesn't, but she's..."

"She's stressed, no doubt. But I don't she's meaning direct all her frustrations on you. Her behavior is not excused, but she needs time to get better." Jessica covered Rory in a sheet and sighed. "She's terrified of everyone right now. Including you."

"She shouldn't be. I saved her too many times."

"You're the dark-eyed warrior. I'm sure she's heard many stories about you as a Bracketer."

"I'm not a warrior. I wish people would stop treating me like I'm immortal. I just... my job is important. You don't realize how many people are killed on the Outside for smaller things. The troubles within the walls are nothing compared to those out there. So many people, innocent, good people, are lost to the battles outside."

"Your job is to protect those of both Sectors, but recently, you've taken a deeper meaning of that promise. It seems you want to protect good people in general, no matter where they come from." Jessica looked at Rory. "Is she a good person to you?"

"I don't know."

"Why did you bring her here?"

"Because she's sick..."

"Why not just leave her elsewhere? She's sick, but they have hospitals in Sector B."

"Mom..." Decha groaned. "It wouldn't be right of me—"

"Why do you feel it's right to take care of her? She's a Bracketer, and aren't they the ones causing the Bomb events?"

"Rory... she's... she's not like those people."

"Who?"

"I don't know! The ones who are killing innocent people? The Bracketers? She's—" Decha fumed.

"Do you think she is a good person?"

"Shite, yes!" Decha admitted, ashamed. "She's interested in Astellian technology, or just Astellians in general. I don't know why, or how, but she is. You should've seen the project she was working on. A stupid little AI, one that is made to be a support for those with illness. She's not trying to destroy Sector A. She wants to make it better, and I hate that she's so dumb and naive and—"

"Decha, take a breath. Your face is turning red."

"She smiled at me." Decha stood tall. "She freaking smiled at me. There was no resentment in her eyes. When she found out about me, my work, she smiled at me. She told me that I was protecting her, she told me that she trusted me."

"So when you say, it's your job... you mean that you're trying to protect her?" Jessica smiled, knowing that she could read her son easily. She raised him right. Unlike her dictating husband, she raised Decha to think beyond the limits.

"I don't know." Decha shrugged. "What I do know is she's not stable enough to take care of herself. Physically or mentally. If we let her roam Astell by herself, she may end up in a ditch somewhere, dead."

Decha remembered the disappearance of Chai. He already failed in protecting the woman he loved. He was not going to let it happen to Rory.

"I know that you're usually quiet and direct with responses. But I don't think your usual demeanor will help her try to understand where you're coming from."

"So you want me to change who I am to fit her standards?"

"No, never change who you are." Jessica chuckled. "Just communicate."

"That only works on the outside. And the only acceptable form of communication is with your fists. It gets the point across quicker."

"I don't think your fists will work on Rory well."

"I won't use them with her."

"How in the world did you make friends?"

"I didn't. They sort of took me in as a friend."

"Then allow Rory to take you in." Jessica kissed her son's forehead and smiled softly. "You can be quite a lot to handle."

"So I've heard."

"Keep watch over her. I'm going to figure out a way we can treat her without using the normal medication she takes."

Decha remembered the herbal shop lady from the Brackets. "Mom, wait. I think I know how we can solve that problem."

~~~

"Rory," A familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Rory looked over her shoulder at whoever called her.

"Daddy," She mumbled in disbelief. She ran toward him and engulfed him in a tight hug. "Dad, I've missed you."

"How's your health? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Tears cascaded down her cheeks. "How did you get here? Did the Generals lead you to find me?"

"Don't cry." Jamison wiped her tears away. "Rory, don't cry. You know I'll always find you."

"I'm sorry for sneaking out. I just didn't want to withdraw from Grandell. I didn't mean to leave—" Jamison pulled Rory into another warm embrace. "Can we go home now?" Rory sniffled.

"Sure, whatever you want. Let's go home and I'll make you a nice meal. Your favorite dish."

A loud beeping sound made Rory uneasy. She looked over her father's shoulder and saw a red dot on the wall blinking rapidly. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and everything went in slow motion.

Flames were everywhere, and her father was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she saw thousands of bodies laying in their own blood around her.

"... No... No!" Rory huffed. She could barely breathe as the dark smoke clouds surrounded her. "Dad!" She cried out for him, but there was no response.

"Dad!" Rory cried and backed away from all of the bodies. She accidentally kicked a bloodied arm and slipped. When she looked down, she saw her hands were tainted in the same burgundy color.

She wiped her hands in her clothes, staining the fabric in red. Then she hollered. So much blood, everywhere. There were so many dead, too many for her to handle. Somehow, she felt it was all her fault.

As the guilt began to overtake her, a voice kept calling to her. Her name was repeated over and over, each one sounding more loud and clear than the one before it.

She opened her eyes and was flashed with white before it all cleared. Rory squinted her eyes but turned her head in the direction of the voice.

"Her blood pressure is rising." The voice muttered. "Darn it, how do I work this thing?" They swore and turned to face her. "Rory, are you okay?"

It was Decha. Rory reached up to touch him, wanting to make sure he was real. She grazed his cheek with her fingers and stared into his dark eyes.

"N96...?" Rory groaned. Decha paid no mind to the touch and only examined her body carefully.

"You were stirring in your sleep—" Decha barely finished his sentence. Rory sat up immediately and hugged him. Decha went stiff, the act of affection being completely new to him.

"All those people..." Rory hiccuped and felt more tears forming in her eyes.

Decha remained still. He didn't want to pull away, but he also didn't feel comfortable staying in that position. His shoulders were tight and upright, and his torso was firm.

He wasn't sure what to do next. Was this a form of healing for her?

For the first time, he felt nervous. The two weren't friends, but she was hugging him. It wasn't illegal, but he didn't want the Astellian generals stationed outside the home to get the wrong idea.

"Rory," Decha began, but he cut his words short when she snuggled into his chest. Her tears seeped through his uniform.

"Everything is gone..." She mumbled. "My father, my purpose... and I..." Rory held her tongue and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Your heart rate is rising." Decha awkwardly reached for a mug full of a dark but clear liquid. It was tea. A special tea. He pulled away from Rory, and gently pushed her back onto the infirmary bed. "Drink this."

"N96... no... Decha," Rory wiped her tears and looked directly into his obsidian-colored eyes. The name that rolled out of her surprised him.

"How did you...?" Decha turned to face her with a scowl. He wondered how she found out his real name.