I entered the familiar concrete room once the guards cleared it. It had a different energy now. Softer. Quieter. Ice was barely conscious, restrained on the bed. He was shifting on the mattress, taking deep, slow breaths.

“Welcome back, Ice,” I warmly smiled, sitting next to him. “How do you feel?”

He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then slowly looked around as though seeing everything for the first time.

When he spoke, his voice was raspy and dry, “What…. What happened? Where am I?” He looked me up and down, blue eyes very much blank save for blatant confusion and even touches of fear. “Who…. Who are you?” He pulled at the restraints, seeming surprised that they were there.

My stomach flipped. “I…. I’m Doctor Calvin Davidson. I’m your primary doctor here at the EW Federation. This is your room in our facility. We became aware of the chip in your neck, how it was controlling you and causing you pain, so we removed it. Do you remember that? Remember me?” I fought to keep my voice steady.

He stared at me for a long moment. I could just barely see the gears turning behind his pale blue eyes. All that coldness seemed to have melted away, flowing into fear and doubt and confusion.

When he finally spoke, his voice cracked, “I-I need you to leave.”

I leaned back, “Why?”

He took a deep, shaky breath, “Because I need to cry.”

I slowly nodded. I put the chair back at the desk, then left the room, going straight to the guard’s station as the waiting guards released the restraints that held Ice to the bed. I stared at the monitor that showed Ice’s room.

He was calm for a bit, only sitting up with his knees to his chest.

When he began to cry, he cried harder than I had ever seen anyone cry.

He paced, he stomped, he punched the wall. He flipped the bed, easily pulling it from where it was bolted to the cement floor and against the wall. He broke the chair and the desk, screaming and sobbing. He tore at his skin and clothes, pulled at his hair, and punched and tore at the mattress, which was now on the floor.

It was heartbreaking. At least the audio wasn’t on, so I didn’t have to listen to his sobs through the microphone. I didn’t need to anyway; I could just barely hear him down the hall. Watching it was painful enough. Eventually, I had enough, and left for the commons; Ice would need food when he finally calmed down.

In the commons, I gathered him some small ham and cheese slider sandwiches, a few macarons, two bread rolls, and a glass of water.

When I was in the elevator, on my way back to the orange level with a tray of food in my hands, my pager beeped. I looked at it: 54 calm. I let out a deep, relieved sigh. Probably had sobbed himself to exhaustion.

The guards let me into Ice’s room.

It was a mess.

The bed frame had been flipped onto its side, torn mattress on the floor. The wooden chair and desk were practically shattered, papers and pens strewn all over the floor. There were fist impacts on the cracked wall. Ice was curled up on the floor in the far corner, staring blankly. His cheeks and nose were red and puffy from crying. There were lines of tearing, red skin along his shoulder, as though he had desperately tried to tear off the metal limb.

I slowly approached him, “Ice? Ice, it’s me, Calvin, your doctor.” I crouched beside him, setting down the tray of food and nudging it towards him. “Here, I brought you some food; you should eat something, regain some energy.”

He didn’t move.

I stood up. I walked around the overturned and twisted metal bed frame, picking up the pillow and one of the blankets. I knelt down next to Ice, offering him the pillow after fluffing it. He slowly took it, putting it partly under his head and hugging the other half. I draped the blanket over him.

“You should eat,” I offered, nudging the tray forward.

Ice slowly and shakily grabbed one of the bread rolls, nibbling on it.

I took a deep breath, then asked, “Ice? Do you remember who I am?”

He glanced at me, looking me up and down. “Doctor Calvin Davidson. Early 30s, caucasoid of French origin, asthmatic, biologist working for the… EW Federation.”

I nodded, gently smiling, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s me. You remember who you are?”

Ice nodded.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Closet. Asthma. Dying.”

“Yeah, you saved my life,” I smiled.

“Th-the chip,” Ice held the back of his neck. “It’s…. It’s out?”

“Yeah, yeah, the chip’s out,” I moved closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ice, you’re free now. They can’t control you.”

He scoffed, almost seeming to laugh, “Your ignorance is almost cute. Almost. If it didn’t nearly get you killed.” He glared up at me and shrugged off my hand. His gaze softened, falling back to the food. He nibbled on a macaron.

I took a breath, then softly asked, “Can you tell me about the cybernetics?”

He froze, eyes wide and staring at nothing. His hands began to shake.

I leaned over him, hand on his metal arm, “Ice, hey, look at me. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe, nothing can hurt you here.”

He curled up tighter, head in his hands, tightly closing his wet eyes. He began softly speaking in different languages. I was just barely able to catch a bit of French and German. “N-never. What did they…. Those are my…. Our….”

“Ice, hey, look at me, please?” My voice cracked.

He paused, tilting his head to look at me.

He softly breathed, “I’m sorry.”

“About what? Please, Ice, talk to me.”

He was shaking. I tucked the blanket tighter around his shoulders in a feeble attempt to comfort him. He tightly gripped the pillow, digging his face into it. I laid my hand on his head, petting his hair. That quickly calmed him. When my fingers brushed behind his ear, he made a sound similar to a moan. I pulled back.

He peeled open his eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

“‘Cause you moaned,” I replied.

Ice shifted, crawling to curl around me where I sat, head resting on my leg. He fumbled for my hand, forcing it onto his head. I sighed and scratched behind his ear. He lightly moaned, nuzzling into my side.

Such a drastic emotional change. Distant and cold, even murderous at times, now reduced to a sobbing, cuddly mess. It made me wonder what other parts of Ice I had missed, what else he was hiding from us. There was still so much unknown about him. Where was he from? When was he born? Who were his parents and where were they now? Did he have any siblings? How could he shift into a being larger than a dire wolf? How did he get his cyborg arm, and how did he survive such an ordeal? What was he? Who was he?

I leaned over to pick up one of the bread rolls. I pulled off a piece, offering it to Ice. He took it, slowly chewing and swallowing. We repeated this, me feeding him, until nearly all the food was eaten.

The door slid open about half an hour later. I looked up to see Max and Jr. Dir. Swann, both of them looking nervous, Max moreso.

“Ice,” Swann said. Ice’s ear twitched. “When you said something bad would happen to Caspian if we didn’t give him his heart…. That wasn’t a threat. It was a warning.” Ice nodded. “Well, that bad thing has happened, and we need your help.”