I clutch the cool Vulcanite-like material of the picture in my hand, Marie's dischords running parallel to my thoughts. Why did she do it? Because he's my father, as some sort of vengence or to uses me as some kind of substitute? Perhaps because she likes _me_, but I can't make myself believe that. Why would she have been so upset if that was the case? Why wouldn't she have at least acknowledged my words? Perhaps she was simply too angry to listen, I've done that, can remember doing horribly stupid things under the influence of anger. If she liked me why would I have been exiled like this, unless they don't think they are going to make it out alive. I try to fight off the fear, get the anger back, its deep warmth filling me, keeping me safe, functional; it won't come, the chill of fear stays lodged in my belly. ------------------cut here---------------------- Apologies to GAINAX