The Universe's Mixer

A quick workout, a shower, a bite for breakfast, work, home, dinner, sleep, a routine. Simon had had a routine in the...asylum, and it was comforting. Of course, he could tell himself that the medication and the City had made it work, but he knew that he had liked knowing exactly what would happen from each moment to the next. It wasn't until he woke up in his own bed that he realized what had happened. Not only had he been kept under observation, doing some very ridiculous things, but he had allowed himself to forget bits of himself. He supposed he could say he learned something about himself; he wasn't good at looking at the bright side, especially when that bright side was just dark and disappointing.

Simon decided not to go into work. They had done without him for however long he'd been detained by the City; they could do without him again. He needed to see River, to apologize to her, to make sure she had been okay. He also needed to see Jennifer, Jake, George, Kaylee, Inara, Mal, Book, and maybe even Hannibal, the last to see if the detrimentally determined doctor had had a hand in the City's..experiment? He was certain he hadn't gone completely mad, yet perhaps he had deserved it for aiding in the creation of a particular virus.

He allowed himself a small bit of routine before yanking on more appropriate gear and heading out. River's apartment had been his original destination; the City didn't seem to want that. He tried Jennifer and Jake, and again, no luck. He didn't know where to find some of the people, and when he stopped by the church building, he started to lose hope. Had the Shepherd gone? He needed to talk to someone, to know that someone, anyone was okay. He just had to find them first.

Dinah took the computer-type phone out of her pocket and glared at it. She still hated computers and thus greatly resented this portable computer that just wouldn't leave her side, but it had delivered a useful alert the previous night, just before it had sparked and died out. She supposed the least she could do was get it repaired and hope that Oracle's computer continued sending out alerts when she needed.

If only she could find someone to man the computer, so then she could get alerts via actual live voice on a headset instead of trying to extract them from that blasted machine. But that was a long shot.

Dinah sighed. Putting together some sort of team in this City might be a good idea, but she wasn't exactly going to take out an ad in the paper for a computer genius who happened to be skilled at strategy and was willing to spend hours behind a computer screen.

Dinah wandered as she searched for the repair shop that she was sure had been listed as being located on this street. She walked up and down the street and watched as the buildings shuffled around, but no sign of the repair shop or any other business except for an office building.

Dinah groaned and approached the building. She took note of a sign that announced the building as "Angel Investigations" on the door and went in. Hopefully someone there could direct her to the computer repair store. She stepped into a cramped office and looked around for signs of life.

"Hello? Anyone home?" she called.

Fire -- fire through his veins, through his chest, down his arm -- fire dropped him to his knees, then further. Further, down to the unyielding stone floor, the cold and damp bedrock that had never been coated with a civilized floor. He gasped air but couldn't breathe. His heart had never been strong. The opium. He could blame the opium, but he never would have given it up. He always knew... He always knew... The cellars, his agonied thoughts whispered, would be his sepulcher; the Opera House would be his mausoleum.

---

There was no transition. One minute, he lay face-down in the 11th cellar of the Paris Opera house, was sure his heart was ready to burst. The next, he was flat on his back with the warm sunshine on his face -- and how long had it been since he felt that -- with no pain whatsoever in his chest. His first thought was Heaven?... But laughter, short, derisive, bubbled from his lips a moment after the thought populated. There could be no heaven for creatures like himself. The next, then, was sheer and utter panic. He was outside. In the day. And --

A pale hand slapped at his face. No mask. No mask! Again, no transition. He was on his feet, hand slapped firmly over the ruined half of his face, looking frantically for some sort of shelter, only --

Only.

He stopped. Everything stopped. What used to feel like slick, poreless ice under his hand was now warm and ... normal. Nothing disfigured... nothing scarred... Hesitantly, Erik ran his hand over what used to be a wreck of a face and found only what every other person would have found: a face.

Slowly, he dropped his hand from where he'd been pressing it. What in the world had just happened? His eyes were adjusting to the light. He was in a field. No. It was a park. He was in a park. There was a squat, ugly bench beside a smooth walkway. And behind the gates of the park, a strange City. He squinted. Every instinct told him to take cover; every shred of logic told him that he needed to find out what had happened and where he was. For the moment, he sat down. And then, reverently, touched his once-ruined cheek again.

Where am I?

Elle didn't know how many days it had been. How long, or how short, she didn't even know the time when she'd been handed the release orders. Good. She was really sick of being here hopped up on something or tested out. Run like a freaking battery would be. Elle was GLAD she was free. What she wasn't glad about was that it seemed that the place was nearly, or completely, empty. Was she the last one? Were they mad about her killing/harming/maiming those nurses? Fine. Good. She totally had a right to do that.

Company employee or not.

Here she was standing outside the doors with one other person. Wondering where the hell to go next. The girl, had to be a girl as she didn't look much older than Elle was and Elle was maybe just a bit of an adult.

"So um.. any idea what day it is or what we're suppose to do now? Does your head feel as heavy as mine does?" Elle rubbed some of the blond hair around the back of her head, then smiled cheerfully.

SHE WAS FREE.