Lyall took care of the men outside, knocking them both out before either realized what happened, and Phelps had the three of them picked up in an unmarked car. The car took them to his large, country style home on the other side of town; it was a long, quiet drive.

Rowan remembered him telling her once that he liked living this far out, because it was less likely you would be bothered. He always seemed to try so hard to distance himself from his work, and it was a trait she once frowned upon, seeing it as the reason why Phelps was not as successful as other doctors his age. Now though, she envied his ability to step away from the research, for his own good. If she had just taken his advice to leave when he had, perhaps everything would be different.

One thing was certain, she at least wouldn’t be coming to him with her best friend and the monster who had just almost killed her, looking for medical help and refuge from the government men who would surely be looking for them in a short while.

The car drove around the backside of the house, where Phelps appeared from a cellar door, beckoning them in quickly. “In with you all, we don’t want prying eyes.”

The older man held the door open as Cameron helped Rowan out of the car and into the basement, Lyall on their flanks with his eyes on the ground. Rowan watched over her shoulder as Phelps eyed the boy he had only ever seen locked up and angry, a nervousness taking over his expression as Lyall passed, but he said nothing.

Once inside, Phelps sealed the doors and flicked on the lights, revealing a surprisingly roomy, personal laboratory. Rowan chuckled as she looked around the room, then said to him, “I thought you never took work home with you.”

Phelp laughed also, moving forward to place a hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes we simply can’t help ourselves. It’s a good thing too, since it looks like this place will come in handy at the moment.” He gestured to her arm, then walked passed her to gather a medical kit from a shelf in the corner of the room. “Come, sit, and we’ll fix that up.”

She crossed the room and took a seat in a chair Phelps collected. He picked out the last few things and placed them on the table next to her, then moved a rolling stool over to sit next to her with his supplies.

“I can’t express how much this means to me, sir. Everything has been so messed up, and I didn’t know who to turn to anymore.” She offered her thanks as she watched Phelps put a pair of gloves on to prepare for stitching up her wound.

“Don’t let it worry you. I know I made it seem like I wanted to keep out of this, and I did, but when I left that day, leaving you alone there with Margot and the rest of her brainwashed group of doctors, I knew I made a terrible mistake. I saw what was coming, and I didn’t properly warn you, and that was selfish of me. This situation you’re in is as much my fault as anyone's.”

She stared for a moment, shocked briefly by his admission. “So you know what’s happening? With the virus, and Miller?”

He frowned. “I have a hunch, and with my years knowing Miller, my hunches about her tend to be right. That’s besides the point right now, though. We can talk about all that later, after we fix you up.”

Rowan nodded, agreeing that she could use a moment to calm down and sort out her thoughts also, before they got into any talk about Miller. She held out her wrapped up, bloodied arm, and Phelps went to work, delicately peeling the matted fabric away.

When the wound was revealed, it was more grisly than she remembered it being. Cameron, who had been watching from a few steps away, sucked in a breath and came over to her side. Even though her skin was stained with red, it at least looked like the wound stopped bleeding for the most part.

“Your doing, I presume?” Phelps didn’t look at Lyall, but his words were pointed in his direction.

Rowan looked up, spotting Lyall observing from back near the door, as if he felt it was inappropriate for him to be any closer. He responded to Phelps question by lowering his eyes back to the floor.

“It was an accident,” she said, feeling like she needed to defend Lyall if he wasn’t going to defend himself.

She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He had been hungry, overwhelmed, and her blood smelled of something he’d never smelled before. Besides, he suffered enough with the antiviral swirling in his veins.

Phelps raised an eyebrow at her quickness to defend, but held back whatever comment crossed his mind. Instead, he said, “Well, it’s an accident that’s going to leave a mark, but besides a scar, we should be able to stitch this up and it will heal just fine.”

Cameron observed as Phelps sewed her wound together, commenting about how gross it was and asking multiple times if she felt the needle. His personality distracted her, which Rowan appreciated since her thoughts were bleeding into concerns.

She didn’t know what would happen to the project, if Miller intended to research the virus further and do human testing, or if it would be scrapped now that Lyall escaped. Or what would happen to Lyall now, since the government men and Miller were sure to catch wind soon that he was still in the city, losing his superhuman qualities quickly. She didn’t even know what was going to happen to her.

It was a while later, when she was stitched up and attached to a saline drip to help her hydration, that she finally tried speaking more to Phelps about what was going on. “You knew Miller was going to use the virus? You knew she never intended to simply cure it?”

He sighed, taking his place on the stool again after putting away all his supplies. “It’s not really Miller’s speciality to cure things. That was more my deal. She was interested in virus biology and mutation. She liked to see what she could make viruses do by changing them. Her research was integral to our eventual development of the influenza virus cure, sure, but her motivation was never that focused on the actual antiviral. I didn’t feel like it was unfair to assume she’d hold the same curiosities in this situation and would take advantage of it to try and come across something… ‘Groundbreaking’.”

Rowan scoffed. “If by ‘groundbreaking’ you mean potentially catastrophic...”

Phelps chuckled, though it was colored with a certain irony. “Miller has never been one to consider the consequences of her research. She’s far more caught up on the actual discovery and what it will do for her than what the discovery might mean overall. On the bright side, this means as far as you and your escapee are concerned, she’s probably not looking to have either of you back in her business.”

She had already come to the conclusion that she was a minor problem on Miller’s radar, and the men watching outside her house were to keep her and Cameron out of the woman’s hair more than anything else.

“The downside?”

Phelps made a face. “If you want to do something about it, which I get the feeling that you probably do because you’re as stubborn as Miller is, it means she’s not going to let you interfere without a fight.”

Rowan gnawed at her lip, considering her options briefly, but then shook her head to rid them from her mind. “No. I don’t want to interfere with her research. I want nothing to do with it anymore, to be honest. There’s really only one thing I want, one thing you might be able to help me with.”

Phelps tilted his head, intrigued, and Rowan reconsidered her words carefully before finally deciding on them. “When Lyall bit me, he got a dose of Miller’s antiviral, and he’s losing the virus as we speak. It’s not fair. Everything he’s done has been simply defending himself, he doesn’t deserve to have this part of him taken away, especially like this. I don’t want to be the reason he had a part of his identity stolen from him. So, I want to get the virus sample back from the labs, then we can give it to Lyall.”

Her proposition took everyone by surprise. The room was silent for a long moment as the three men stared at her.

Cameron spoke first. “He’s finally going to be fixed, and you’re going to break him again?”

Rowan glared. “He was never broken.”

“God. You know what I mean, Row.”

“I don’t think I do, please elabor—”

“No.” Lyall’s objection was quiet, but firm, breaking through their bickering and silencing the room.

Rowan’s reaction tumbled around in her mouth for a while before she got it out properly. “What do you mean, no?”

She didn’t understand. It was everything he wanted, everything he had been fighting for all this time, and now that she wanted to give it back, he didn’t want it? How could he say no, when he looked like he was dying?

He leaned back against the wall and moved his eyes away from her, giving no explanation. The silence left in the room was thick and heavy.

Phelps tried his best to be subtle as he broke it with a question. “You said he has an antiviral in his system, so Miller developed one?”

She tried not to let her frustration out on her tone, but it was hard to stifle it. “Yes. She gave me the injection in case Lyall…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that thought.

Phelps made a little sound to himself, understanding, then got up and rummaged around his supplies, coming back with a lancet and a blood slide. He walked past Rowan and moved over to Lyall. “You wouldn’t mind me taking a small blood sample, just to take a look and see how Miller’s treatment is working, would you?”

Lyall blinked, as if he was surprised anyone other than Rowan was talking to him. He glanced at Rowan before answering, as if questioning her about Phelps’ intention, but she shrugged in reply, knowing as little as him.

“Okay,” Lyall agreed, holding out his finger for Phelps to use the lancet on.

When he had Lyall’s blood sample, he moved to Rowan. “How about you also? You said he got the antiviral from drinking your blood? I’d like to see if there is any left in there and what it’s doing.”

She eyed him, confused. “I really don’t know what you’re getting at with this.” She voiced her concern with a skeptical gaze.

Phelps smiled. “I have another hunch, but I’ve always hated jumping to conclusions before having evidence. Would you?” He held out his hand, waiting for Rowan’s agreement.

Curious as always, she gave him her finger.

Phelps worked immediately, analyzing both their blood samples under a high-tech microscope at the other end of the room. Without the science talk, the silence thickened and weighed them down again. Rowan was glaring at Lyall, and Lyall was glaring back, and soon enough, Cameron dismissed himself to escape the stifling discomfort between them.

With the wall next to Rowan now vacant, Lyall gave a reluctant sigh, moving from the entrance to take the spot by her.

Neither of them were willing to start the argument, but Lyall offered words after the tension became painful. “I don’t want the virus back. I told you I didn’t want to go on just killing people anymore, and we proved tonight that I’m never going to be completely able to control it. It will eventually take over me. I can’t have the virus and not kill.” He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed again, closing his eyes. After a second without a response from her, he added bitterly, “Besides. This is how you wanted me from the start, right?”

Rowan practically growled. “This isn’t about what I want.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, but shook his head after. “But maybe I’m tired of making decisions based solely on what I want. I’m tired of being... So out of control.”

He was tired, that much was obvious. It wasn’t just the purple around his eyes, but simply the look in them itself, like in the containment room when he accepted that he would die in there. He appeared defeated, broken. Lost.

Rowan shut her eyes briefly to gather her thoughts, taking in a calming breath. “This isn’t about being selfish. I want to help you get it back because I don’t think it’s fair to take it away from you. It’s part of who you are. And I also definitely don’t want you to be without it simply because you think it’s what I’d prefer. You can’t put that kind of responsibility on me.”

Lyall laughed a little. “But if I say it’s for you, then I can blame you later when I’m bitter about it.” He grinned mischievously when she scowled at him.

“Exactly.” She wasn’t able to hold her negativity for long, smirking back at him.

They quieted again, letting the heavy thoughts sit between them, untouched since neither of them had a good solution.

Lyall spoke again, offering another consideration. “I guess I just feel like it’s time for me to learn who I am, without the hunger. After everything, maybe I owe that to not just myself, but you too.”

She scoffed under her breath, but a smile played at her lips. “The way you’re talking, it’s almost like you’re planning to stick around.” She said it like it was absurd, but then she glanced up to see if he thought the same.

He caught her gaze, then looked away, a timidness coming over him, like he was afraid to admit it. “Maybe I was thinking about it. I haven’t been human for a long time, so I’d need someone to help me get back into the swing of things.”

Rowan couldn’t help her lips, twitching up as she lowered her gaze to hide her softened expression.

From across the room, Phelps interrupted by clearing his throat, then sighing. “It’s as I thought,” he said, stepping away from the microscope and removing the gloves from his hands.

Rowan frowned. “What is?”

“The substance Miller put into your blood, that Lyall has in his system, is not an antiviral. Miller and her doctors would never be able to come up with a cure so quickly without me.”

As his words settled in, Rowan found herself perking up a little. “But that means that Lyall still has the virus, right?” Her brief excitement faded with Phelps expression.

“He still has the virus, but it’s not the same as it use to be, and it won’t matter for long, anyway.” Phelps paused, twistings his hands together uncomfortably. He was obviously reluctant to continue, but did so despite himself. “Whatever Miller created, it’s reacting with the subject’s virus to attack the other cells of his body. Miller likely intended to dispose of the subject with this substance.”

The room was silent for a painful moment. Lyall spoke first. “Dispose of me?”

“You’re not becoming human. You’re dying. The substance you took from Rowan’s blood is killing you. Rather quickly, actually.”

Rowan shook her head, laughing in disbelief. “No. Absolutely not. Miller told me it was an antivirus. They were working on it for weeks.”

“They were probably working on other things, developing this substance on the side to deal with the problem at hand. Miller would have considered having the subject around as a liability, and not worth trying to actually cure him. Miller… She’s a manipulative woman, Rowan. She always has been. It’s part of why she’s where she is today.

“She’s also not stupid. She saw your dedication as something valuable, even more so now that it opposed her. She probably considered you important to have around, therefore tried to offer you what you wanted as a means of restoring peace between you and keeping you around in case she needed you.”

Phelps explanation was believable, reasonable even, but Rowan didn’t want to accept it.

Frustration swelled up in her chest painfully, and she shut her eyes to fight the tears that threatened to erupt, exhaling smoothly to try and calm herself. She was able to get her next words out without her voice shaking. “What do we do then? Is there something you can do?”

Phelps inhaled deep and paced a few steps to the side, a thought festering in his head. “I’m not sure… But my best guess would be, if we had some of the original virus, we might be able to infuse it back into his system, and the new virus could overpower the damaging substance and fix the old cells. He’d, hopefully, be just like before. Unfortunately, you’d need probably an equal dose of the virus.”

“For example, a test tube of infected blood?” Rowan offered, knowing immediately what Phelps suggested.

He nodded reluctantly. “It would be the only way, yes.”

She stood, removing the IV from her arm with determination. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go to the labs, get the virus sample, and bring it back here so we can save Lyall.”

“Rowan, please.” Lyall objected with a strained voice, reaching out for her arm to try and get her to sit down again, but she avoided his grip.

“What? Doing this is the only way to save you. You’re going to die otherwise.”

He sighed, putting his head in his hands. “I almost killed you today. All because of this virus. And you want to get it back for me? I’m the issue in this situation, maybe it’s about time I just disappear. Like I said I would. Maybe it’s just easier that way.”

“Oh, please.” It was Cameron that spoke this time, a scoff from off to the side.

Lyall lifted his head, sending a sharp gaze in Cameron’s direction. “Excuse me?”

Rolling his eyes, he elaborated. “You escaped from the ECBS earlier today to keep that virus intact. Rowan put everything on the line to help, for fuck sakes. And an hour of thinking you’d lost it has turned you soft? I didn’t realize being human or finding out you’re dying would turn you into such a coward. Or were you just always one?” Cameron laid on the attitude thick, purposely looking for a reaction from Lyall.

Rowan reacted first instead, snorting when she couldn’t stifle her laugh any longer. Lyall’s shocked expression was simply too rich.

Hearing her, Lyall moved his completely bewildered expression from Cameron to her, glaring at the fact she enjoyed his verbal bashing. Finally, he scoffed, leaning back and shaking his head.

“Fine. But no promises I won’t kill you both once I get it back from how irritating you’re being.”

Cameron smirked. “I’ll have to remember to insult you more. It gets results.”

Rowan interrupted the bickering by clapping her hands together. “So now it’s settled. To the labs to steal the virus back?”

Cameron nodded once curtly. “Definitely. And hey, while we’re there, maybe we can mess up Miller’s research for her army of superhumans she’s planning too.” He raised his hand to Rowan for a high five.

She smacked his palm with her good hand, grinning. “Viva la revolution!”

Phelps smiled also, but nervous tainted it, and as Lyall and Cameron got ready to go, he pulled Rowan to the side for a brief moment. “There was something else I needed to tell you. Something about your blood sample.”

Her curiosity piqued, she stepped closer to him.

He paused for a long moment, then patted her shoulder and shook his head. “You know what, I’m going to take a second look. I’ll tell you about it when you three get back from the labs.”

She nodded, smiling, and turned back to the boys, not seeing when Phelps’ expression fell.