Gravity

---17---

SAM's whole body ached as she laid down. Looking around the room, Sam almost believed that she really was in a hospital, but the strange absence of  any noise and commotion, gave away that she was the only patient there.  A heart rate monitor stood on a stand to her left, and attached to her arm were two tubes, one an IV drip and the other a blood transfusion. Everitt had really banged her up good.

Her right leg was propped up in a sling hanging fron the ceiling and touching her right arm she could feel the stab wound where Everitt had impaled her. Her nose was also throbbing.

Closing her eyes, Sam tried to think back about the events she had experienced these last few days and honestly she really felt as thought it were all a dream. Not only had the world literally turned sideways, Sam had been kidnapped by some underground government initiative, was forced to undergo tests, which very much endangered her life and to put the cherry on top, was nearly killed by a schizophrenic teenage boy (who she may or may not have had a crush on).

This is insane. She reminded herself one more time, before the door to the room clicked, and swung open slowly. A quiff of dirty blonde hair peeked around the edge of the door and a pair of icy blue Eyes followed. Everitt was looking in nervously. Sam sighed exasperated, but she felt her stomach churn. Even after a beating, he looks cute. She thought.

"Can I come in ?" Everitt asked. Sam motioned with her free hand, the one not attached to tubes, for him to come in, and he walked in, treading lightly, almost as though he were walking on newly formed ice on top a lake. "I- I don't know how to say this, bu-but I'm really sorry Sam. I truly am." Everitt said, stuttering over his words. "Tha-That really wasn't me back there. I'm sure my mum told you."

Sam smiled wearily and said that it was okay. It really wasn't, but she knew better that to pursue the matter. How was she supposed to just be okay with nearly being killed? But then again, it definitely wasn't as though he really wanted to. "Take a seat, Everitt." She tapped on the side of the bed, indicating for him to come sit. "I think you owe me an explanation, and I don't mean 'Oh we're at war . You're on the good side' kind of explanation. I want a real one. And considering you nearly killed me, I'm expecting the whole truth Everitt."

"I guess I do owe you that." Everitt replied, and took a breath. "Well..."

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GRACIE followed Terry down the hallway out of the training arena towards the left. While she was feeling quite good about the way the match had turned out, Terry's posture and unusual quietness had begun to put her at unease. Trailing just a step behind him towards his right, Gracie tried to take a closer look at his face. Besides the occasional licking of his lips, Terry's face gave no indication of what might be troubling him.

"Terry?" Gracie managed to speak, "is there something wrong?" Terry's response was a quickening of his pace and an unspoken indication for Gracie to just shut it and follow him. Alright then. She thought.

After leading her down a few hallways and taking the stairs down 2 levels, Terry lead Gracie into a large room with what looked to be about a dozen adjacent prison cells. They all had the same dingy grey paint job and the bars on the cell were spaced closer together than those you'd see traditionally in a prison, maybe 3-4 inches in distance. Most of them were empty, except for two. On the opposite ends of the room. Probably so they couldn't communicate. The cell on the far left, held the infamous shapeshifter, Derrick. He was quite notorious for having been a danger during trainings, not for training purposes but instead to feed his own desire to hurt and injure others. It was ultimately the decision, of the Council, to lock him up, for an indefinite period to, firstly protect the other trainees enrolled in Westchester, and secondly to hopefully rehabilitate him back into the training schedule as a normal functioning Receiver.