#answerdrabble

Similarly, it seemed that the middle of a firefight might not be the ideal time to blurt out that he liked Becca more than anyone else and he thought she was the best alchemist in the world and she was also the prettiest. 

But the words were out now. With the young woman staring him down as if he were totally insane. It probably didn’t help that he’d not in fact ever become a state anything. It took too much math to be an alchemist. The numbers were dumb. 

“You WHAT?” She cried as she dragged him toward cover. Arcadia already over there, waving them over desperately.

“I love ya. An’ that means I ain’t a civilian.”

“That is not how that works.” The dark haired girl was muttering it under her breath. Not that Pat didn't hear. Just that she wasn’t yelling it to be heard.

The blond was increasingly certain that she had no idea just how much he meant those words. He DID love her. Probably. He certainly liked her more than a friend. 

The teen dug his heels into the ground, bringing them to a stop. The metal hand around his wrist tightened. Rebecca very well might throw him over her shoulder soon. This was his chance though. This split second of her not yet sure what to do with him.

Patrick used his free hand to grab the back of her neck, dragging her to his level. She was too tall really. He didn't care though. The boy pressed his lips to hers. His first kiss. A not very good one. Something blew up nearby, knocking both over. Breaking the moment. Giving Rebecca all the time she needed to finish throwing the idiot boy to her sister to watch over before turning on a heel and going about what she did- being totally awesome.

“I kissed Becca.” Pat bragged to Arcadia softly. 

It took much less time to acclimate the boys to the Big Daddies than it had to make them do anything else. The creature was introduced in the hall. Then again in their own room. And again. And again. And eventually only in photographs or cartoons. The result, it seemed, remained the same.

After Icarus had shook hands with the knight all the boys had rushed forward. Eager to meet their new ally. It was an absent, forgotten note in the file on the Little Brother's. The did not call the Big Daddy a protector. It was an ally. They did not call it Mr. Bubbles. It was Mr. Knight. Little changes in vocabulary that no one thought anything of. Perhaps, someone should have.

But at the time it was simple. Icarus, the leader of his miniature army of Male Gatherer's, had proved the Big Daddy's posed no threat. And from then on, even when he was absent or asleep a Big Daddy could be introduced and the other boys would flock to it. Sometimes it erupted into vicious fighting between them- who got to be with the Knight this time. Whose turn it was or who wasn't a good enough boy to deserve a knight. Sometimes the Big Daddy stopped the fighting. Usually, it was Icarus. Icarus or his little right hand man whose name started with an R but that no one could recall for certain. As a hard fast rule, the scientists were finding, the only thing that started, or stopped, a Little Brother, was Icarus.

It was rather a matter of pride for him. Icarus liked having an army. The heavy feeling in his chest and stomach forgotten more and more as the fog came over his eyes. The room they were in slowly changing. The cold steal walls a bright platinum broken by rich blue drapery. Their beds- once cots- slowly becoming covered in velvet- like they were all princes. The blood they spilled from one another when they fought so viciously, the blood that stained the floor, all leaves. Red leaves like one made piles out of and jumped into. Fall leaves like they let Arcadia produce now and again. The violence didn't diminish. On the contrary. The boys would have to be programmed to not play in the leaves.

Icarus was the last to succumb all the way. Yelling at his men to stop what they were doing with the leaves he could still see was sticky and red and horrible. Yelling for them to stop talking like dumb Little Sisters. There were no toys. The world wasn't blue and platinum. It wasn't. It wasn't.

Until he woke up one day and it was. And he couldn’t recall when it hadn't been. And he knew none of his men by name. And he only knew himself as Icarus. The one name all ten boys could recall- Icarus.

The scientists watched from behind the double mirror. No longer did that little blond brat glare at them. No longer was he an issue to be concerned with.

"A job well done Fred." The short round one said.

"A job done at the very least Oscar." The tall wiry one replied, pushing his wire glasses back into place on his nose.

"They will be exactly what the program needed. Gatherers who can protect themselves if the Protector is too far away."

"You gave them bats." The metal bats were ringing off the steel walls. The boys laughing with delight at the music they made. The last act of Atlas' son had been to stop the boys from fighting one another. They wrestled still. But the broken bones had stopped at last. Miniature idiots every single one. Particularly that Son of the People.

"They can't just bite a grown man an escape can they?"

"I suppose not Oscar. Though I think we will find those bats to be a bothersome expense later."

Icarus loved his bat. It was a training sword really. Because he was going to grow up to be a knight. Just like the Knights that came to see them. They had real swords too! Long pointed things. But those weren't for fighting monsters. You stabbed angels with that one. If you stabbed an angel with the stabby sword than the angel would fill you up with power. And if you were full of power you could share it with the Knight. The Knight needed the little boys. They gave the Knight power. And it was fun.

The boys, all as a group at first then fewer and fewer at a time were sent to train. They had a long hallway where angels were waiting surrounded by leaves. And there were things that attacked the Knights. And sometimes Demons attacked with their loud machines. But the Knight protected the boys. And if a Demon got too close, the boys protected themselves. That was what the training sword was for. It got rid of Demons.

Icarus was sent on his own. With his own Knight. And he came back to the room, the leaves still stuck to him. The power in his belly. A smile on his lips.

Someone had given the boys all the same squire uniform. Shorts and shoes and shirts and socks that said they were knights in training. Icarus wasn't sure he liked the uniform. But he was a Good Boy. And a Good squire. So he wore it just the same.

Not one of the boys recalled any longer the world they had come from. Sea outside glass. Steal and concrete and neon. Families. Friends. The boys who had been here before but didn't make it. They remembered only the blue velvet curtains. And the platinum floors. And Mr. Knight. And Icarus. Even if they forgot the others and forgot themselves they always remembered Icarus. He was as much a part of this new world as anything. For while Icarus saw himself the same as the boys they saw him differently. They saw, maybe not a knight, but a savior just the same. A cleric perhaps. A paladin. A being of power that shone like the sun and saved them. They didn't know from what. Couldn't recall. But they knew him and he was more than they were. He was to be trusted. More than even a Knight could be trusted. Icarus brought sunlight to the platinum and blue world. And he would never fall

At last the experiment was over. The Little Brothers approved for use in the gathering of ADAM. Fred and Oscar, the scientists and kidnappers, opened the steel doors one last time. Watched as all the little things ran off. Off to their vents- same as the Little Sisters. Off to be gross creepy little monsters born from science. Made useful through science.

The last boy to leave was the blond one. The one that had been such a thorn in their side. He didn't seem to notice them at all. Not until Oscar waved. A mocking little back and forth of his hand. It caught the yellow eyed creatures attention.

Icarus didn't know those men. Boring men. Not Angels. Not Demons. Certainly not a Knight. Just men. But he knew...

An inkling of memory. Of before touched the edge of his mind. There was a hat. A hat that was too big on his head but matched the one that someone important had. A greyish blue hat. It had been taken from him. He'd been taken from whomever that important someone was. He wanted his hat. Why didn't he have it?

After a long time of staring, Oscar finally having put his arm down, the men exchanging confused looks, the child spoke. His voice rang wrong. Echoed and sang in a way normal children's voices never should. "I want my hat."

The men exchanged another, more fearful look. The boys didn't remember anything. This one. This Icarus. Shouldn't know he'd ever had a hat. Had they released them too soon? Or was it worse than that?  A long time ago this boy said he'd live. And he did. A long time ago he said he'd save as many boys as he could. And he did. A long time ago he swore that he'd get his vengeance for being kidnapped and experimented on. He hadn't yet done that...

"I. Want. My. Hat." He enunciated, stepping forward toward the adults, metal bat bouncing on the floor. The ringing of that metal instrument making the ringing of his voice so much more menacing.

"You don't have a--"

"I want my hat!" The bat swung without warning. Hit Fred, the tall wiry man, square in the shins. It was not a gentle hit. It was not a light bat. Made to bash the skulls of Splicers who might attack the boy. Swung by an arm with no concept of pain. The shins shattered, toppling the man instantly. Oscar went running. They might still survive this if they just threw the damn hat at the Little Brother. Who cared if he matched the rest?

The bat swung again and again. Fred's screams quickly dying to a gurgle. Than nothing. Just the wet sound of metal hitting flesh. Until that too stopped. A soft giggle bouncing off the walls. Icarus liked the leaves. They were so pretty. They weren't fun to play in, though he couldn't say why. But they weren't. Only fun to make. To watch fall. To watch stick to things.

He stepped over the pile of leaves, following where the other man had gone. Oscar had found it. Thank god. The second the yellow eyes lit up the room he tossed the boy the hat. Waiting. Wanting him to just go. Uncertain if speaking would set the vicious thing off. Icarus saw the hat. He picked it up. Put it on his head. He liked his hat. It made him important. He liked being important. There were other boys, he thought, who could use a hat. But not like his. His was best.

He turned to leave, another touch of memory. The man who was not a pile of leaves. He had stolen the hat too. He had done... other things. He was a Demon. Demon disguised as a man.

Icarus turned back, the smile on his face nothing short of terrifying. Oscar felt his blood run cold. "You're a Demon. I'm gonna protect all'a th' boys. 'Cause I ain't never gonna let a Demon jump out without tastin' my sword." The boy walked forward, bat swinging loosely in his grip. His accent should have been gone too. Had been gone. It was an absent note Oscar mentally made. That the boy had, like all the Gatherer's, lost his personality. The things that made him an individual. He'd lost the accent and his preferences and his vigorous sense of right and wrong and his charm. And it was coming back. Had come back. The accent. The need to protect others. If Oscar was honest with himself as the child approached he'd admit that little Patrick McCullen had always kept his charm. The boys still trusted him most. He was an anomaly. An anomaly that made other anomalies. He'd come back, in part, from the conditioning.

Oscar screamed louder than the other scientist had. But it lasted so much shorter. He wasn't a big man. Icarus hit the Demon on the head with his sword. Leaves poured out. And there was no more screaming. He hit the Demon a few more times to be certain. Demons had leaves inside. That’s how you knew they were evil. Real men weren't full of leaves.

The child brushed leaves from his face as he started walking out. He would kill all the Demons in the whole of every place. Him and Mr. Knight who was training him. Icarus had a hat that made him important. He was so important he'd show all of the Demons for what they were. Demons. And there would be no one left to stop Little Sisters or Little Brothers from getting all the power from the Angels.