i can't wait to be sad and alone on the edge of the universe

[backslash]

"Hey... Abby?"

"Yeah?" Her smile. Never forget that smile.

"Have you ever... I mean... what do you think of us?" Inelegantly phrased, but obvious.

Abby had never had a chance to answer him.

((B021 Cristóbal Morales Start))

It could not be said that Cristóbal hadn't fought. That had been the most surprising thing, when he thought back on it now.

He'd fought, yes. He'd struggled against his restraints, and he'd been horrified, was still horrified, but he hadn't cried or screamed. He hadn't been angry, either, just... determined, maybe. Defiant, that was a good word. He hadn't accepted this. Wouldn't accept it.

Cristóbal Morales was not going to lay down and die, and to him, that was the most surprising thing.

He was still hiding, of course. One didn't spend seventeen years getting into the habit of hiding just to break said habit in one day. He hadn't really moved from the corner that he had huddled into upon waking up. His eyes had gradually adjusted to the darkness of the building he was in - some kind of storage area, from the looks of things - enough to tell that there didn't seem to be anyone else there. No reason to rush outside, then, not without coming up with some kind of plan or waiting for someone to come to him. That was what he did best.

The spear lay near his feet. It had been laid neatly across the bag he was given and dislodged by his groggy waking movements. He hadn't touched it yet. Cristo wasn't in denial about the situation, that wouldn't do any good, but touching the spear was a confirmation. This was real, this was happening, and he was going to be part of it, one way or another.

Cristo might have been shy, and awkward, and an easy target to some, but he had never liked to think of himself as a victim.

The problem was, he wasn't sure what to do with all this defiance. It was an unfamiliar feeling in the first place, and he still had no plan. He had names, faces, Abby, Maxim, his teammates. He had the longing to see them, the fear of whatever might have already happened to them. He had defiance, and he had a spear. He also had a snowball's chance in hell.

Well, no underdog ever became a champ by giving up.

((Cristóbal Morales continued in Prepare to Burn))