A/N: I find it amusing that so many of you think that I'm actually planning this story.

Chapter 9- Theoretical Murder

"Infected subjects will attempt to find a suitable place to rest during onset of coma. Dormancy of subject, otherwise known as the hibernation period, will last anywhere from 7 to 10 hours. Onset of coma is similar to REM sleep and Infected can be easily mistaken as such"

-Dr. Alexei T. Forshoch, RDDA General Staff, Excerpt

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Kwan stared off listlessly. Jazz was growing bored as she tapped rhythmically against the plastic desk.

There was a prevalent silence in the room. Completely intentional, for Jazz wasn't shy to flaunting her family name to get her way, and they both knew that his supposed heroism had nothing to do with his shiny new accommodations. It was a game, with Kwan as the player and Jazz the game master. The ever-shifting rules of a story that she has the will to manipulate, and a maze that Kwan will never figure out because it is impossible to navigate a landscape that changes every time you weren't looking. It was amazing how a pedigree can bend the rules to your favor.

The plush chair squeaked as she dragged herself closer to his bed, the wheels sliding effortlessly across the linoleum floor. It reminded Kwan how they were completely alone and that no one can hear them talk in this 'privately'owned hospital room.

It didn't matter that her intentions were purely defensive in nature. Jazz was good at what she does because she was an excellent liar. And right now, she was showing appropriate care to appear as the caring and kind-hearted Fenton. Her fingers gripped gently around his hand, as if she was wishing him well. Kwan watched her smile falter ever so slightly- you couldn't tell unless you were specifically looking for it- when the doctors reassured her that he would be fine after an extended stay at the hospital. It irritated him to know that she wanted him in a coma, just so that he'd keep his mouth shut. It makes sense that even a prodigy like her has someone that she truly cares about.

"I don't need to know why" she smiled for the security cameras, "Rationally speaking, all I need is for you to keep it a secret. But I'm really curious. Just why did you keep Danny's secret safe when you could have exchanged it for valuable Points?"

Several minutes passed with Kwan pretending to be brain-dead zombie.

Jazz drummed her fingers patiently.

A good point to point out was Kwan didn't have to say anything. He had the right to remain silent.

"I have a question" Kwan rasped after what seemed ages, "How did you know that I know that-"

"Danny's dead?" she cut him off in mid-sentence, "That one's easy. I knew as soon as the Rapid Response sent you in."

"I love how you said all that without actually answering my question"

Jazz tilted her head. The drugs were meant to keep him compliant instead of raising his cognitive awareness,"There is only one Infected in the whole of Site 83. Doesn't take much to piece it together when you're the first casualty on site", she explained.

"Ah. But there's still the possibility that I saw him after he mutated"

She chuckled, though he suspected that she exaggerated it to look good on camera, "Kwan. You shot him. You actually shot him when Valerie ended up knee deep in a brick wall. If Danny was really as powerful as I hear, it's impossible for you to get a point range"

This time, it was Kwan's turn to laugh, "You wound me, Miss Fenton. I'm pretty good at my own job, thank you very much. Besides, Miss Grey didn't have a gun"

"Good point there" she sighed, wagging a finger, "Then I guess it's my mistake to immediately assume that you knew Danny's secret, which I didn't specify when I came in", she smirked, "If I remember correctly, I simply inquired why you didn't say anything and you did nothing to deny it"

"So, in short, you took a gamble Miss Fenton. It could have gone very wrong"

"But it worked" she eyed him slyly, "I took a gamble by asking you an ambiguous question. Even if it didn't work out, you still wouldn't have known what I was talking about"

Kwan seemed to be startled by this, before breaking out into a wide grin, "Well played, Miss Fenton"

"Indeed" she replied smugly. So the pacifiers did do their jobs, "Now, the thing about conversations is that it works by mutual reciprocation. I answered your question, now it's your turn to answer mine in return"

"I have no obligations towards you" he inclined ever so slightly, "As you said before, isn't it enough to know that I won't tell everyone else that your brother's a Ghost?"

"Entertain me"

Kwan mulled it over for a few seconds

"Would you believe it if I said I did it out of the goodness of my heart?"

"Nope" she glanced, deadpanned.

"But it's true" he insisted, "To an extent, that is. Did you know that he asked me to shoot him?"

"Well" her gaze shifted to the floor, "I had my suspicions"

"That makes both of us" he answered nonchalantly, "You pressured him into staying alive, didn't you? Because if you did, this whole fiasco is your fault, you know"

Jazz pressed her eyes shut, "I know. I was buying time for-"

"For what? What is it that's so important that you're willing to sacrifice the safety of all the people here?"

There was a moment of pause. She wondered for the politically correct phrase to make herself sound morally superior.

"I never claimed to be compassionate or kind. I'm just as selfish as the rest of you" she kept her eyes closed, though her words stayed leveled and calm

(another act)

"I'm grieving. I'm weak. I can't bear losing the only person my age that doesn't treat me like I'm a personalized computer"

(Another lie)

Jazz split open her eyelids, glaring in determination, "I wanted to stay with him until he completely gone. I want to be sure. I just-"

(And when the Tower of Babel fell into ruins, the final truth was already a distorted reality. Intelligence was a fickle dream in face of human emotions)

"Don't."

She stopped.

Kwan breathed heavily through his nose, "I don't need Points. I don't respect your brother or any other Fenton, and I think that your brother was stupid to come to me. If he really wanted to die without anyone else knowing, he could have done the deed himself. Anything else is just a giant excuse."

"I think that your brother didn't actually want to die. He came to me because he was afraid of being forgotten, because in the end, he knows that I will remember him regardless of the situation. Danny came to me for attention because he didn't want to be remembered as another kid that got Infected and killed off, probably deserving it by the standards of most site residents. Congratulations Jazz, it turns out that your pep talk, really did work in your favor.

I didn't tell your parents because Danny still has the will to live. The idiot's just probably too dense to realize it yet"

"By idiot, of course, you mean me"

"Yes"

Her eyes softened, the edges of her lips crinkling into a bitter smile, "Thank you. I needed to hear that"

(No. She didn't, actually)

Kwan nodded in return, "If I heard correctly, your brother is still out there. Go find him, he still needs you"

"Well then" she stood up, smoothness her shirt, "I'm going off now. Take care"

"Likewise", the broken boy nodded, eyes glazed over with slow pain and drugs.

(Because in the end, Jazz didn't need another person to tell her what she wanted.)

The throaty hum of the heater served as a perfect source of background music, as Sam sat crossed legged on the carpet, sipping a mug of warm soup. In reality, the soup was really too watery for anyone to consider it appetizing, and to a lesser extent, a soup at all. But Sam was never the indulgent type. Food was food, and stuff was stuff. Sam couldn't afford to be complicated, especially when her mom is in one of her moods.

Besides, that wasn't the point here. Rather, the pathetic slurring in the living room had nothing to do with the plot right now. What Sam was really concerned about was the bundle of Danny sleeping in her futon, covered haphazardly with patched up quilt and stone-hard pillows. Sam hoped that his pampered lifestyle didn't affect his ability to be impartial towards her poorness. There were many things that Sam could take on without losing her temper. Being teased about her lack of material possessions wasn't one of them. Dead or not, it still doesn't give him the right to be impolite.

Her lips pressed down into a thin line. To be honest, Sam just wished that Danny would wake up and explain himself. Propriety can go stick itself where the sun doesn't shine.

Either way, she was not stupid. She knew the risks of harboring a Ghost in her own home. Even so, Danny was her friend. Friendship meant taking risks, regardless of the circumstances.

(The realist in her pointed out that she had always looked for an escape. Sam refused to see Danny as one)

She was stirring the broth in her hands when she heard Danny groan.

"Where am-"

Danny immediately sat up when he saw a gun set squarely between his eyes.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

It didn't escape from her that Danny was speaking in perfect monotone. So, she flicked off the safety.

"Sa..sa..Sam! I'm okay. I swear. Wait…what am I fine for again?"

She scrutinized his face for any signs of betrayal. Finding none, she sighed. But the gun didn't budge an inch.

"Danny" she spoke levelly, "How did you end up as a Ghost?"

If there was an accurate term to describe Sam, it would be blunt. Blunt, heavy and straight to the point. Danny would have been impressed if his brain wasn't screaming for him to manually bludgeon her to death.

For the longest time, he looked incredulous. As if he was questioning her sanity for even asking that. Sam had to admit that she was unsure herself. Was yesterday night just a dream?

There was an audible sigh when he realized that she wasn't going to put the gun down.

"Oh" his panic dissipated into disappointment. "So you know"

Sam snorted. That was a direct insult to her intelligence, "Of course I know. I saw you turn from a Ghost into a human right before my eyes"

"I see" he squinted skeptically, "So that's what happened last night"

"I was there to visit you in the infirmary" she waved distractedly, "I heard from the bozos in the pub that you got whacked pretty hard. But that's beside the point." the barrel of the gun realigned to the naked flesh of his forehead, "Since when were you Infected?"

"That's not important"

"It is" she nudged the cold metal harshly, "I need to know if you're still sapient"

"I'm talking, aren't I?" he shrugged.

"No you're not. You're just making words come out of your mouth" she glared coldly. If Danny was thinking what she thinks he's thinking, Sam would have no choice but to gun him down. As the oldies say, innocent until proven guilty; and right now, Sam was willing to give her best friend the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain yourself" her voice growing more and more menacing by the second, "And don't you dare lie to me because, trust me, I will know."

"You won't" he remarked, humor evident in his voice.

The trigger clicked slightly as her finger exerted the slightest of pressures.

"Okay okay! Jeez, stop. I'll talk"

"So talk". If she pushed the gun any harder against his skin, Danny would get a circular tattoo on his forehead for the rest of his life.

Pardon me. Unlife.

"I will, I will. But before I start, can you put down the gun?"

"No"

"…and then I almost died when Jazz hit me with a brick!"

"I have a feeling that you're going to use that as an ongoing pun for the rest of your life….."

"Wait a sec, you punched Val into a wall?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"She's going to hate you forever, you know"

"Yeah" he looked somberly, "So can you move the gun?"

"No"

"I think I understand now."

"I know. Take some time to take it in" he muttered emphatically, visibly relieved when the gun moved away from his face.

"Are you going to tell Tucker?" she glanced. It didn't escape him that her eyes narrowed suspiciously every time they met gazes.

Danny didn't so much as moved, but it scared him that he actually wanted to do something about it. He wanted to just push her away and run through the door. He wanted to gut her and leave her a mass of blood and guts on the floor. The disease allowed him scattered pieces of his own humanity, but there was always a scratching reminder that he must live. Living meant that he had to get away from everything dangerous. Dangerous meant humanity. Humanity meant Sam.

He shook his head slightly. Sam can't know what he was thinking about.

"No. Maybe. I don't know" he scratched the nape of his neck, "Sam don't take this the wrong way, but you smell terrible"

She had the guile to look embarrassed, "I took a bath yesterday"

"No, it's not that" he looked, away. Probably as equally flummoxed as Sam, "It's your blood. It reeks, even in my human form"

"I don't see how that gives you the right to tell me that I stink"

"I never took you for the euphemistic type"

"I'm not. I just don't want you to tell me that I stink"

"That statement is counterproductive all on its own"

"Shut up"

If there was anything that Danny had in common with Sam, he was equally as blunt when he needed something done. He was itching for a run anyways.

"Sam" he sighed, leaning back against the stone cold walls, "I'm going to have to leave the site"

Well. That was sudden.

Sam glanced incredulously at her best friend. Now it was her turn to question his sanity, "Why would you do that? I think we both established that you're as harmless as a rabid dog. While you're still rabid, you're only a dog. We can deal with this"

"Excellent, analogy there Sam. But terrible implications." He tilted his head ever so slightly, "I may not be threat, but I recognize that everyone else is. To me"

"I mean" he scratched his chin "I could kill you here right here and right now. Following this theoretical situation, there is no one here except your drunk mom and a few guys three blocks away- which they reek, by the way" he pinched his nose in discomfort" and thus, no one will hear you if I strangle you to death. Not a single drop of blood shed and so I don't have to wash myself up, a definite plus if consider how it would stink. And" here, he was getting noticeably excited, "Then, I'd dump your body into the snow, and no one would find you. Even after then, it still wouldn't be enough because there are thousands of you in this very site"

Sam looked torn between looking terrified and disgusted, "Your point?"

"My brain is telling me to either run or get rid of everyone. I think cowardice is a much tamer solution than manslaughter, am I correct?"

Sam was trying her hardest to keep an open mind.

"Do we really stink that much?"

"No. Not really. But my brain is intent on assuming human blood as a high risk threat. Therefore, by extension I really, really want to get out of here. The fact is that, the only reason I'm still around is because the virus is generous enough to let me keep my memories. Sentimentality is a nice touch when it comes to hypothetical domicile fratricide, I think"

"But, we're not related" Sam protested.

"I'm also not human anymore. I mean, I may appear human, but I realize that I'm not. This form" he gestured to the rest of his body, "is probably something the virus thinks that it would come in handy. I'm certainly not going to correct it"

"I'm not amused by your attempt to play the 'I'm-more-educated-than-thou card'"

"Sam" he gently squeezed her hand, "I'm leaving. No amount of reasoning is going to make me stay."

Sam considered his words for a moment, "Then I have a proposal."

"The stage is yours", he gestured

"I'm coming with you Danny. If possible, were offering the same deal to Jazz and Tucker."

"I can't do that" he shook his head, "The whole point on leaving is so that I can get as far away as I can from humanity. The plan isn't going to work if I drag three of you as excess baggage."

"Yes you can" she demanded, determination seeping into her voice, "You're going to wait here while I get Tucker and Jazz."

"Sam!" urgency evident in his voice

"Stay."

Watching Sam walk away was surprisingly easy for Danny.

It was even easier for him to walk out the front door, past a gibbering Mrs. Manson.

By the time Sam returned with company, Danny was already long gone.

How gullible of her.