A/N: First off…

Thank you too everyone who's reviewed this! You all get lots of cookies and a comic book! -

Second…I don't know. Enjoy the story?

Chapter 3:

The collar burned, and he let himself drop to his knees, pressure throbbing in his chest. He couldn't- couldn't move- it burned; his neck, his sides, his face-

He wouldn't stop.The girl- he looked at her, searching the black hair, thin fingers, lilac eyes. He knew- he did- he felt it- burning, falling-

He pushed himself up, the pressure rising. Air whooshed from his mouth- his lungs were shrinking, but it didn't- matter. Breathe, one foot ahead- the collar crackled, green sparks searing his eyes- he couldn't see- branding him- she was here- he had to- reach- violet eyes, dark clothes- a ring-

He knew her! His head pounded, she was so far- his legs shook, the sparks rushing to a blaze, drowning out anything else- it hurt! Something clawed at his throat, trapped, wanting- it burned, he burned, they burned, he fell- he was falling away- no! He had to stay- he drove his fingers into the earth, clinging, gasping- he had to find- tell- burning, burning, ashes- his- an animal was inside, eating him out, he- had to- reach- he twisted- where was she? She had been here- she-she- darkness, stained with dripping green- crackling, static- the pressure rose, pounding in his mouth, thick and choking-

"Danny!" she was there- and it was free, beating against the glass, his ears; a sound -his- a scream-

His scream.

His sound.

Danny.

His name.

And he lay; panting; cold, slick tiles under his back, scratching across his skin. Air thrummed, in his mouth, out again. In and out, a never ending, impermanent cycle, ever existent, yet always on the brink of freezing, of never returning. Of soft air touching his lips but not entering. It would be like that, someday- someday… he turned his head, blinking. There was a pair of boots, not far away, though they were out of reach.

Danny. The name slid over him, a lost coat that wrapped itself around him, gone but returned. He raised his eyes, up, up- so far- he was tired- he rested them on the woman's face. She didn't know. Didn't know. But she was there, with him; there inside too, somewhere. He would find her.

He smiled.

Sam leaned on the glass, heart pounding, ears ringing with the cry as it died off, leaving only the shield's binding hum to drone in the silence.

Oh god.

Brilliant Sam- you try to save him and get him killed trying to communicate!

She banged on the glass, pressing herself as close as she could, her hands aching, burning to- to- he lay still behind the glass, curled in a ball. Was he- no, his chest rose and fell, softly; he wasn't dead.

Not yet anyway.

"Damn them!" she hissed. "Sorry." He opened his eyes, his lips quirking upwards in a smile. Sam sat back, surprised at the brilliant green that was his eyes, the grey having suddenly receded.

Th-thump.

Beautiful.

She blushed- shit, he didn't know, did he?

Know what? She pushed the thought to the back of her head, frowning, leaning forward again.

It was true though. Just from an artist's point of view- after all the painting classes she'd taken- his eyes were lovely; deep and dark and green, confused, yes, a little wild even, but behind that, they were…human.

Behind glass. Sam clenched her fists.

"Listen, Danny-" she paused, the name again popping out. Screw it then. "Ok, I don't know why you're in here, or how I'm going to, but I'm going to get you out." she jumped up, glancing up and down the huge glass wall. There! At the end!

"Hang on."

Thump, thump, thump. She really had to stop wearing combat boots! Swearing, she skidded on the tiles before the large glass door.

What the hell?

It wasn't locked? Inside, he was watching her, quietly, calmly. "Ok then-" she grabbed the handle.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

"Shit!" Stupid, stupid, stupid Sam!

Alarm system.

Duh.

"There's a breech White Wolf!"

"All systems, section 34-2-d, stat!"

"Procedure 45!"

"Book seven?"

"Book seven."

Somewhere outside, she could hear footsteps and sirens, pounding closer second by second. Sam groaned. "Frig!" She ran, twisting the small ring around her finger. "I'll get you out. No one or thing should be caged, dammit!" She burst through the exit door and pounded into the night as the two guards from earlier ran into auditorium. "There!" Shit! They'd seen her! The door slammed shut behind her as she tore across the grass, breath clawing in her lungs. Shit! Shit! Shit! The men charged out after her and then she ran, leaving flattened grass behind her. She had to hide, or something!

"It's a girl." The first guard said, glancing at his partner.

"Right. I'll call-"

"Let her go." they turned, eyebrows rising in sync as a pale man in a bowler hat stepped onto the path, grinning, tapping his cane on the step. "She'll be back for the second act. Come, Lydia."

Freakshow chuckled, breezing past the two stunned agents as he was joined by the red cloaked woman.

Miss Samantha Manson's nosy streak certainly hadn't been forgotten, by either of them.

Lucky for him.

Sam let the inner door shut softly behind her and stuck her head around the second door, squinting in the glare of the exit sign, waiting a moment before she slipped onto the damp grass. Carefully, she tip toed around the corner of the suit building, glancing up past it's false-bricked sides to the waxing moon. It'd be full soon. Beautiful, but not very helpful- more cover would've been useful. She glanced back at the building once more before scooting across the grass to the patio. "Ok." She paused, grimacing at the sight of the rabbit skin pillows.

What was she thinking? She couldn't stay here! How many animals had been killed to line the walls! There was no way she was providing money to these people so they- across the field, a light lit in an upper story window, yellow fraught with red. Sam stopped and watched, resting her hand on the rail at the top of the steps to the door. A scene from an old movie popped into her head, two friends standing on a bridge as a train rushed underneath.

"This is nuts! We can't jump!" The guy said to the girl, clutching his red beret.

"We have to Tucker." the girl had snapped, grabbing his hand. "I can't abandon Danny."

Sam stared at the little prick of light, wondering if the boy was asleep now, or whether they were doing something else to him. "You owe me big time, even if you did help me once!" she yelled to someone and no one before turning and stomping into the restaurant. "They better have salad!"

The porter standing by the door wisely kept his mouth shut for once, although he was curious as to what the strange girl in a skirt and combat boots was doing at the Trouver hotel/ club/ summer get away. He also backed up a little as she passed, keeping his feet away from her steel toed boots, though he wasn't sure if they really were or not- steel toed that is. He flinched at the pounding they made on the moss-green carpet.

Sometimes, you just got that feeling. Instead, he grinned at a pretty Hispanic girl, picking up her bags with flourish and a bow.

"Hey there ladies. I'm Tucker. Tucker Foley. That's T.F, as in Too Fine."

"Like ew! Get away loser!"

The rest of the staff either winced or rolled their eyes as another resounding slap echoed around the huge complex.

Somewhere behind a door of green and oddity, a man flickered in the shadows of a tower, smiling to himself. Soon.

"Sammykins!" Pam squealed as Sam pulled out the blue velvet seat and settled into it, smiling weakly.

"You decided to join us?" Jeremy raised an eyebrow, smiling eerily. Sam snorted, picking up the leather bound menu with two fingers.

"I-" she shuddered as a waiter in a perfect black suit and white shirt sailed by, carrying a tray with a chicken steaming from a mountain of vegetables. "I- yeah, I came back. She refrained from any other complaints- no point pushing her luck or she'd end up with an armed guard too! Actually, that was just what she needed! If she had an armed guard, he could alert the security and grab her when she was trying to break Danny out, and that would save Freakshow the trouble and cost of guarding him. She could bring that point up with him then when he did whatever he was going to do to her, and ask if he would consider returning the favour by letting Danny go.

E-yup.

Somehow, that didn't seem likely.

Oh well.

Thankfully, the restaurant seemed to be void of any murdered animals, well, excluding the menus and the charred remains on plates. Other than that, it was huge, with large windows in it's forest green walls. The view wasn't bad, with it's huge lake, and the floor matched the colour of the moon shot water. Even the lighting wasn't bad, provided from a black chandelier.

"The food here is good," Pam smiled. "Even if the décor is a little…dreary."

"It was probably intended to be dramatic, dear." Jeremy sipped his wine, looking around. "Although, I think you're right. I'll have a chat with the owner about it- we golf." Sam rolled her eyes. The tables were wide apart too, so she didn't have to worry about too much human contact- "Ow!" Her leg knocked the table as her father nudged her. The waiter ahem-ed, pen poised over his neat white notebook- did they use a different one each time? Did they realize how many trees they wasted? If they would just use erasable -biodegradable- plastic tablets-

"Your order, Miss? Our special for tonight is a roast beef. $34.99, with your choice of chicken or shrimp salad on the side." Jeremy choked and Pam blanched, quickly swallowing her water as Sam's eyes flashed angrily.

"Beef? That's been raised on a tiny farm on by-products of other anima-"

"She's a vegetarian." Jeremy ground out quickly, glowering at the waiter. "She doesn't eat meat."

"An ultra-recyclo vegetarian, thank you very much." Sam growled, scowling at the waiter- Robert by his name tag- longing to dump ketchup on his perfectly buttoned white shirt. Of course, a high end place like this wouldn't have ketchup, not even Dijon ketchup. Even if she did have a million dollars. "When will you people see what you're doing to poor animals is IN HUMANE AND CRUEL!" She yelled, scraping her chair back. "When will you idiots rea-

The room went silent.

Oops.

"Sam!" Pam hissed, glancing from table to silent table.

Crap.

She really had to learn to think before jumping in.

Let's see…

Another plug for not eating meat, or…

Green eyes.

Glass walls.

"I'll…have a salad, please. No chicken." She smiled sheepishly at her father, fiddling with her ring. "Um…Sorry?" Jeremy sighed.

"No harm done." Pam said cheerily. "I only see one person here I know, silly Miss Vandertamp, and-" Pam giggled. "She definitely falls under the idiot category. Good job Sammykins!" Sam refrained from dropping her head to the table as her mother prattled on about some shopping trip and pink lipstick.

Goth…

Image…

Fading…

The lake patted the shore with little waves, lolling in the soft wind as the stars passed overhead.

The world spun on and on.