Department of Investigative Services

The drugs hit her hard, and Ryliee felt numb almost instantly, like she was floating. "But if you fail... I'll die..." She slurred, her eyes half lidded. "I'll just... Haunt you..." Her eyes fell closed, her grip on Ezra's hand slacking, unconsciousness pulling her under.

-

The surgery was successful, and Ryliee was lying in a recovery room, her leg wrapped and in a sling. There were two bad breaks, one by her ankle, the other closer to her knee. She needed pins and screws to hold the bone in place to heal. Once the remodeling was complete, they could be removed, but until then she had the choice of a wheelchair or crutches.

The Meta had yet to wake up, but it was common after surgery for it to take some time for the patient to awaken. When she did, she would be groggy, but she would be fine. The only other injuries she had were bruises and scrapes.

True to his word, Ezra never left Ryliee's side. Though the procedure was relatively long, he barely moved at all, and only when he had to move. Even when the doctors and nurses told him to let go of the girl's hand so they could work, he did not listen, but kept his eyes fixed to two points only: Ryliee's face and her vital monitors. When the procedure was complete, he followed her into recovery, never leaving her side. Dark bags slowly formed under Ezra's eyes, but he did not allow himself to sleep, though his body cried out for relief.

At one point Ryliee had begun to stir as the first dose of anesthesia began to wear off. Disoriented, she called out weakly but Ezra was still right there. He cupped her hand in his, leaned forward and whispered soothingly to her until the second dose was able to sedate her once again.

Once she had proven stable, Ryliee was wheeled up to the fourth floor recovery unit, a pair of nurses and a radiology tech came to the room with a sort of portable x-ray machine. Much more compact than conventional machines, this device allowed them to record an image and view it immediately, and with excellent clarity. Ryliee was correct. Over half of Ezra's ribs were cracked or broken and his lungs were both bruised. Luckily they were not punctured or he would have been dead a long time. After treating the injury with drugs and wraps, the staff left and were replaced by the General himself.

"Been a long day," Ezra said wearily, no longer caring about rank and title.

"Yes it has." General Glass, a kinder fellow with a strong build and ashen skin, stepped into the room. He removed his cap and sat down in a chair opposite of the two Metas. "How is she?"

"She's recovering. She's been through a lot, but... she's a fighter."

"You don't know the half of it." General Glass sighed softly. He knew. He had to know.

"Actually I do," Ezra responded. "She told me when the building came down on us. Though we were going to die so we aired out our dirty laundry.

Glass paused for a moment, considering what Ezra told him. "Like two peas in a pod. That explains the protective instincts." There was a knock on the door, causing Glass to poke his head through and make a gesture. Smart. He knew Ezra would hear him no matter how softly he whispered." Afterward he pulled his head back into the room and looked Ezra straight in the eye. "I'm going to ask you again, son. Did you kill Agent Bloom? Before you answer, our conversation early is off the record. Whatever you tell me now will be officially recorded."

There was the opportunity. There was Ezra's chance to get out of any charges associated with the Agent's death. No investigation. No digging. They'll just send Ryliee back to super-max and give him a new partner. Or maybe Ezra would retired somewhere nice and live out the rest of his days in peace and quiet.

"I killed Agent Bloom," Ezra said without hesitation. "I found him assaulting my partner, pushed him off of her, sat on him, and choked him with my hands."

Waking up was difficult. Ryliee felt light, and everything was quiet and peaceful. There was no pressure to be good, there were no hateful states or harsh words. It was blissful silence. She didn't want to leave, to wake up. But she knew she had to.

Her fingers twitched, closing around her partners hand weakly as she forced her burning eyes open. Everything was muffled, like she was underwater, words slurring together not making much sense at all. Her bright hues were dull, glazed over; she tried to focus but it only made her head spin. After a moment or two everything came into an annoyingly sharp focus. Two men were in the room with her. Ezra, and General Glass. She hadn't heard the conversation they'd been having, but the air in the room was heavy, tense.

"Untwist your panties and break out the booze, bitches, I survived." Ryliees voice was hoarse, and her mouth was dry, but she was still relatively high so what she said sounded funny to her ears. A grin spread across her face, as she stared at the two of them, for once looking like just a normal girl, and not a twisted Meta with a dark past.

Ezra's attention was immediately diverted as soon as Ryliee began to wake, feeling her fingers so softly curl around his hand. He smiled genuinely when she made her announcement, even going to so far as to chuckle a little, even though he knew what was going to come next. "I told you I wouldn't let them kill you. You should trust your partner more." Ezra squeezed her hand lightly two times, signaling his joke.

Glass, though not so amused by her words, did shift into a slightly more relaxed pose. He wasn't their friend, and neither were they his. But not having to find a replacement in case Ryliee did not make it would have been difficult, and could have cost millions of dollars that his program did not have.

"Good, you're awake." Glass knocked on the door, after which two MPs entered the room in full uniform. "Ryliee, Ezra needs to come with us now." The male Meta tightened his grip; it was clear that he did not want to leave her side but did not want to cause violence.

Ryliee turned her gaze to Glass, frowning, shaking her head slightly. "He can't go." She tried to sit up, but her body was weak. No longer did she feel light and floaty, but heavy, weighted down by the drugs. "You can't take him." If they took Ezra away, she would be left alone, unprotected and weak. Ryliee had many enemies, and if word got out of her condition, she had no doubt in her mind that they would come for her.

Her fingers clenched around Ezra's, unwilling to let go. If they wanted to take him they were going to have to pry him out of her cold, dead hands. Narrowing her eyes, she pushed herself up, grimacing from the spike of pain in her leg. She was not letting Ezra go.

Glass grimaced as Ryliee began to push herself upright, caught by disbelief that she would already be strong enough to rise considering the heavy medications she'd been given. The fact alone that she was awake was enough to surprise even the most seasoned veterans of the medical profession. Ezra turned, placed his hand against her sternum, and gently pressed down. Considering her state, it wasn't difficult to push her back against the bed, though he did not hold her there. His other hand was still wrapped around Ryliee's, making no mistake that he intended to stay.

"General Glass if I leave Ryliee alone, she will not do well. I'm the only person in this building that she trusts enough to be here right now, and if you take me away from her she will not take it well. Knowing her past as well, I believe it would be dangerous for her to stay here on her own." Ezra's voice was resolute, but he knew that, in the end, if they truly wanted to separate them, they could. It wouldn't be pretty, but they could do it.

Glass eyed the two Metas cautiously, his gentle nature pushed away in favor of prudence. Both MPs had their hands on their sidearms, ready to draw at a moment's notice. Of course it would be way too late for them; by the time their guns left their holsters both would be paste splattered against the wall and door behind them. Nothing sort of a tissue sample would prove that they were even human.

"You cannot stay, Ezra." The Meta began to inhale in expectation of violence. "However, it is more dangerous to have you separated. Under your watch she's had no major infractions." It was popular opinion that the higher-ups never paid any attention to the Meta's accomplishments, but Glass absorbed both the good and the bad. "Here is how we are going to work this. You will be under guard here every second of every day until Ryliee has been released. That time will not be counted against your house-arrest duration. When she is released, she will be sent to your home and you will both be placed on paid, administrative leave until the investigation is complete. Is that understood?"

As Glass was talking, Ryliee never let her gaze leave the two MPs. Their hands were on their guns, and she took that as a threat, even if they made no move to withdraw the weapons. She did not require full strength or focus to manipulate her ability, and they would do well to remember that. She did not look at either of the other two men in the room, paying no mind to their conversation. Her attention was on the armed men, her lips pursed into a tight thin line.

"Move your hands." She said lowly, her voice stronger than it should have been. Her patience was wearing thin, and humans in her hospital room so soon after her surgery, threatening her and her partner was going to end badly. "Do not make me repeat myself. I only speak once. You will not threaten me." Ryliees tone had a dangerous growl to it, her muscles tensing; but her vitals did not show she was under stress, they remained steady and even, giving the indication that was not nervous or conflicted about ending their lives.

Both MPs looked at each other, then to Glass, then back to Ryliee. Neither moved a muscle, afraid that she was going to attack. Feeling the tension, Ezra turned his attention away from everyone and moved to face Ryliee directly, placing himself between the Meta and the MPs and breaking her line of sight with them. "Ryliee, it's okay. Calm down. They're not going to do anything. They became nervous, that's all." She may not have realized it because of her state, but a lot was riding on that moment. Apart from almost certain execution at some point for killing two military personnel without cause, Ezra had to show that he could keep Ryliee from falling back to her old ways. If Glass could see that he could not help her contain her violent tendencies, they would certainly be separated.

"They're just nervous. That's all." Ezra kept his voice deep, but soft and soothing. He wasn't going to order her to stand down, even if she were standing up. But the hope was based around visual and audible coaxing. If Ryliee really did trust him, he should be able to talk her down without incident. "Please... just calm down, alright. I'll make sure they don't do anything retarded."

After a long tense moment, Ryliee sighed and leaned back against her bed, her body relaxing. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away, the medicine pulling her back into a mellow unawareness. "Disarm them. If you're going to put guards in here, I want them disarmed." Ryliee spoke slowly, drowsiness apparent in her words.

Stifling a yawn, her grip on Ezra's hand slackened, and she allowed the meds to ease her into a dreamless abyss. May the gods help them if they tried to take Ezra away while she was out. She'd rage a one Meta war on humanity until she got him back.

Ezra watched as Ryliee fell back against the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. After making sure she was out completely, he moved back around her bed and sat down in a chair, grunting quietly as he irritated his broken bones. If he was really being honest with himself, he did not want Ryliee anywhere else. He could hold her hand forever if she let him, though he knew the time would come that she would be ready to let go. Seeing her in that bed, still and calm, he started to realize that his partnership had developed into something more right under his nose and he didn't even notice. Could he be okay with that? Could he risk it again?

"You know I'm not going to leave them here with no weapons, right?"

"Just keep them outside the door and it will be fine. Ryliee and I are used to being confined to places and guarded. I'll make sure she doesn't kill anyone that doesn't try to kill her first."

Glass nodded, then turned toward the door. One MP opened the door for the career officer while the other saluted as he exited. "And Ezra," Glass said as he paused. "I don't know what she's told you, but just remember how trustworthy she actually is. Not because she's Meta... but because of the choices she's made. She doesn't stand by you for any reason other than the hope of getting to beat up more humans. Watch your back with her." Glass' voice carried concern, not hatred. Ezra's keen hearing could easily tell the difference, just as a bloodhound could pick up the scent of his prey from miles away, picking it out of other odors and fragrances with pinpoint accuracy.

The MPs left with Glass, leaving Ezra and Ryliee alone. Fatigue began to overtake him; the weight of their predicament suddenly pushed his shoulders and eyelids down. There was not enough space on the one bed in the room, so Ezra pulled up his chair, kept his hand around her's, and laid his head down on the mattress next to her hip. A painful sleep followed, but it was sleep nonetheless.

Ryliee had been in the hospital for nearly a week, and she had gone through almost every physical therapist in the facility. She was about to lose another one.

"If you don't practice and do your physical therapy you won't walk right again. You have to-" the man began.

"Stop talking." Ryliee snapped. "I'm not going to entertain your ridiculous bullshit. I don't need help walking, with or without crutches, and I most certainly don't need you."

A cast had been fitted over her leg, and she had taken it upon herself to decorate it with dark blues and purples, depicting scenes of death and destruction. She clutched her crutches close, turning her back on the therapist. It was her last day in the hospital before she was cleared to leave, and go to Ezra's home. As much as the thought annoyed her, she didn't let it bother her too much. They saw her as a rabid dog, and Ezra was her keeper. They weren't wrong, not completely. Ezra was the only one she'd listen to, everyone else could fuck off.

"Hey, quit bothering the interns." Ezra moved into the room, downstairs from the main floor, an area that had been converted into a makeshift gym where Ryliee could rehabilitate. "I can't afford the guy that taught all those orphans how to walk, and your name is getting around the neighborhood." Setting down a bowl of assorted fruit, he observed the physical therapist at work.

"Take a break, Lucas," Ezra commanded, approaching the struggling Ryliee. She had been through only a week, and though she had made progress, he felt like her stubborn nature was stunting her ability to heal properly. More than once she had injured herself from pushing too hard.

Sighing slightly, Ezra stepped up to Ryliee and glanced at the pair of bars to the side. "Come on. Let me see you walk."

Ryliee glared hard at Ezra, her arms already shaking from her efforts with Lucas. "You just want to see me fall." She hissed, but hobbled over to the bars anyway. Lying her crutches near the bars, she grasped them each tightly, her knuckles white. "You know you assholes aren't pushing this shit hard enough right?"

Having an unnaturally high tolerance to pain medicine, Ryliee was more often than not in a foul mood. The drugs they gave her were not strong enough to pierce the wall of pain she felt on a daily basis. Taking a deep breath, she began to slowly shuffle across the bars, gritting her teeth against the agony. She made it almost halfway before her leg gave out, and she fell forward.

"Son of a bitch!" She snarled.

Never one to let her do things completely solo, Ezra was there to catch her before she hit the floor. With one arm around her waist he used his shoulder to prop her up. Bearing the weight of the lithe girl was enough to cause him immense pain in his chest and abdomen. His ribs bent and pushed against each other, but Ezra braced himself with the bars and slowly straightened out. "Of course we are. That's why you're improving. Who ever said rehab was easy?"

Turning slowly, he draped Ryliee's arm over his neck and slowly began to guide her back to her crutches, still coaxing her to put a bit of weight on the recovering limb. "You are getting better you know. I know it hurts like hell, but you're getting better."

Grabbing her crutches, she wiggled away from Ezra and moved to a chair to sit. The expression on her face was frustrated and angry, but with the way she say she was glad to have stopped. Her skin was pale, dotted with sweat, her breaths ragged and uneven.

"I'm going to install cameras." Ryliee changed the subject, not wanting to talk about her leg anymore "I have people meeting us at your house tomorrow. I hope you don't mind, even if you do I don't care." She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, sighing.

"I know you don't," Ezra replied. Once Ryliee had settled, he moved to the bowl he'd brought in and took it to her. "Here... I had Dumbass number 2 go and pick up some fresh fruit this morning." Ezra's house arrest did not allow him to leave the property, but money could be a powerful motivator, especially when combined with good behavior. He'd found that doing nice things for Ryliee was becoming easier, even when she was frustrated at him or someone else or something other than those. "Who's coming over?"

Ezra grabbed an apple and took a bite out of it, savoring the tangy sour green flavor.

Ryliee took a grape and popped it into her mouth. As annoyed as she was at her whole situation, Ezra made it less frustrating. She would have likely killed the entire hospital staff if not for him constantly being there.

"Friends of mine. They're going to help me install the cameras since climbing a ladder is pretty impossible right now. Any particular place you want the monitor? Or the password?"

"Just make sure we both have access. I don't want it in some locked room that you had installed while I was asleep." Ezra's tone was not terribly serious, though there was a hint of truth in it. Ryliee was very unique; she did things independently of Ezra's knowledge sometimes, so having a secret room designed did not seem completely outside the realm of reality. The Meta took another bite of apple while he considered the password. "Make it something I can remember. I have too much on my mind to remember something terribly complicated. Where are you thinking about putting the cameras?"

Ryliee rolled her eyes and took another grape. "Duh. It's your house. And I haven't built a new room.. Not yet. I'll decide whether or not you need it when I get there." She took a deep breath and sighed, slouching in the chair. Her body ached, weariness falling over her like a blanket. "I'll put the monitor hidden in plain sight, I think. Not behind a painting, but I'll have them bring over a dual purpose tv. It will have a special remote to switch from whatever cable to the cameras."

She yawned, and stretched. "The cameras will be outside and in. Everywhere but the bathroom and your room, unless you want one there."

Shrugging his shoulders, Ezra finished off his apple and threw the core in a nearby biowaste bin, which he would use for compost later on. "I don't care where you put them. Whatever you need to do to feel safe." Ryliee's progress chart lay on the table, left on a clipboard by the intern on his way to take a breather. The verbal assault from his patient was obvious; he struggled to keep his composure in front of the two Metas.

"Lucas, go ahead and take off. Let's give Ryliee a chance to rest." Lifting the clipboard, Ezra took the chart back to the resting physical therapist with a small smile. He clapped the young man on the shoulder and escorted him out of the home before returning to Ryliee. "You're making good progress, but you should rest today. I know we're working you hard, and you deserve a breather."

"I don't need a breather." Ryliee mumbled, dozing off in the chair. Her foot was propped up on another with a cushion so it didn't hurt her. "Any progress I make is pointless, anyway. At least until I get this cast off, and that won't be for another few weeks." She yawned, cracking her eyes open and pushing herself into a sitting position. If she let herself lie down she wasn't going to want to get up again.

"One more time, then I'll consider resting." She said, despite her earlier comment about it being pointless. Ryliee crutches over to the bars, and took a shaky breath steadying herself. I have to get to the end. She thought stubbornly.

"You'll need this progress when you get your cast off." Fishing a cherry from the bowl, Ezra moved to the other side of the bars, where he waited for Rykiel to complete a lap. "I'll make you a deal. You get all the way over here from behind the line, you get a reward of your choosing. Fail and I get to pick the reward. Sound fair?"

"Yeah, fair, okay." Ryliee wasn't really listening, she was trying to concentrate on not falling over. With her hands on the bars the Meta began to move forward, slowly, inching her way toward the end. It was tedious, and Ryliee began to get impatient and frustrated at her sloth like pace. So she went a little faster, and it was a mistake. A little over halfway to the end, she stepped wrong and an unbearable pain slammed into her. The suddenness of the agony caused her to black out, and she collapsed.

Ezra jumped to catch the falling Ryliee, but was too far and too slow. She hit the floor hard; thank goodness it was a padded spot, or the collision with the cold, tiled floor would have left her bruised and potentially bloodied if she hit just wrong. "Lucas!" Ezra called out for the intern, hoping to catch him before he'd left the building. He came running into the room, hearing the urgency in Ezra's voice. "She's out cold. Help me get her to bed... I can't carry her dead weight." Air came painfully into his lungs as he hooked his arms under Ryliee's and pulled her off the floor while Lucas carried her legs. It wasn't far to her bedroom; just around the corner and down a short hallway.

Once inside, Ezra dismissed the intern, promising to keep her off her feet for the rest of the day. From a mini fridge he'd installed in her room for ease of access he pulled a cold compress and placed it gently on her cheekbone as the bruise had already started to appear. There he sat until she awoke, completely unconscious of the fact that he had taken a hold of her hand once again.

Ryliee woke up not long after, her leg throbbing painfully. "Fuck.." She groaned, not even bothering to try to sit up. She felt Ezra's hand in her own, but she made no move to let go. "What the fuck happened?" She moaned. Her head was swimming, the pain making her so dizzy she had to fight the urge to vomit. "I didn't make it all the way, did I?"