Freed

Chapter 2: State of Grace

With a huff, Ice stands up, smoothing out his shirt before glancing at White, nodding slightly before walking out of the room, slamming it shut.

"What's up with him?" Dimitry asks innocently, shrugging and placing his notebook and pencil on the floor before going back to sleep.

White rolls her eyes at the sight.

"Boys," she murmurs.

Diamond agrees, chuckling as she walks out of the room, closing the door slowly. Angel sits on the couch, hands folded on her lap as she waits. It was almost her turn to practice, after the team of four left for the First Compound she'd been all alone, she took it in herself to memorize all the schedules. She smiles at White, standing up and giving the teen a big hug on the waist.

"I missed you," Angel almost forgot to tell her those.

The blond leaves the room, her small feet making clinking sounds on the floor. Adam stood there, smiling as his eyes wandered around for something to do. He wasn't hoping on going back and building anything soon. He was far too tired for that.

He plops down the couch and starts to count the seconds, hoping that he could fall asleep as easily as Dimitry did.

White glances at the clock, noticing that she had to go. She had nothing to do here. Time will be wasted looking over Dimitry's still body. With a sigh, she turns towards her brother.

"Guard him for me?"

Adam smiles, ruffling his brown hair for a moment before nodding.

White sighs in relief, stepping closer to Dimitry and kissing his forehead before walking out of the room. Her hand lingers on the door knob for a moment before fully closing the door. She walks down the hall till the place where the boys' dorms and the girls' dorms meet. She looks around at the people. Some were merely talking to each other, some others punching the air with their fists, rejoicing at the coming back of White and the rest.

She brushes the white streak of hair away, pushing it back over her shoulder as she quickly makes her way through the group of teens.

Instictivly, her feet weave their way over till she finds herself in front of the training doors.

What would the trainers think? After leaving for the First Compound and coming back, she'd became shabby in her skill. Something she wasn't proud of happening.

With a quick gulp of air, she pushes the doors open.

So many pairs of eyes stare back at her. All in different colors, yet all the same expressions. The room starts to applaud, grins getting wider and wider. While White stood there with her hands on her sides as she looks around the room. 

"Am I in the right room?" She asks, voice quivering.

"Yep," Troy murmurs, appearing from the crowd. He raises his hands up in the air, silencing everyone. "Welcome back!" He greets her, stretching his arms wide and hugging the teen. He still was the same as before. Nothing change, nothing new, good.

"What exactly did I miss?" She asks, letting go and looking around, everyone already going back to their business.

He laughs, slapping a hand on her back. "Nothing really, I just think you'll need some refreshing. Stretch those old bones of yours."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Me? Old?"

He pinches her cheek, the other hand going to her arm and dragging her down the room. "Cheeky," he mutters under his breath reagaining his seriousness. "We better get to work then," he clasps his hands together, scurrying to grab some more equipment.

White looks around, watching as everyone was busy deep in their training.

Her yes lock on Ice, he was busy beating another guy to the floor. Her eyes move to the right, spotting Angel chatting with girls her age. Then there was Diamond, walking around with a pack of boys following her. White laughs at the sight.

Troy returns with the usual things he gives her. Working cameras, gadgets and a few other things. It was really easy for White really. Simple problems require simple solutions. All she had to do was smash and break them then she could rest.

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Mark paces around in his isolated room. After the breakout he'd been pondering on what to do. He knew what his son would do. Strike once again, it's what Anthony does, he knew. He of course was his father.

"Anthony!" Mark screams, slamming his fist on the mohagany table. One thing Mark didn't like was being cornered. And here he was, sitting in a hidden room in the First Compound wondering on how to trick the man he himself taught from the beginning.

Knock! Knock!

"Come in,"

A man in a sharp black suit comes in, his face blank and emotionless. He wore a pair of dark shades, his hair shaved off, now completely bald.

"What do you want?" He demands, turning around and glaring at the guard.

"The plans have been rearranged. We're almost ready sir," he explains with no expression or feeling.

Mark looks up at the guard, a cruel looking smile on his lips forming. He stands up and walks over to his guard.

"Good," he mutters, walking over towards the door.

"But sir!" The guard shouts. "You're not allowed to come out."

He turns around, glaring. Mark was sent to the secret room for reasons. They knew that the experiments would come after them, break in and would be out for blood. But stubborness ran in the Andrews family.

With a grunt, the old man swiftly made his way towards the hall, swerving to the left then right till the elevator came to view.

He was in an unknown floor. Several floors under from where Rea was housed. This elevator only went to one other floor, the floor where his room is, located behind his closet.

Stepping in the elevator, he clicks the only button going up. After waiting for a few minutes, it clicks and opens. The man was greeted by his shabby coats. Pushing through them, his room came to view. White and gold walls, white and gold sheets, white and gold everything. His favorite combination.

In the middle of the room he spots Mr. Fliers.

"You stubborn old man," White's father mutters.

Mark shrugs. "What can I say, I'm a very very stubborn man . . . not old," he points out blandly. "Anyways, where's the plan?"

Mr. Fliers flashes him a smile. "Lemme show you."

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derps