Three years.

Roughly a month ago marked three years since Nicholas had seen her face. Three years since he'd up and left the way he did. It was obvious that she was going to be upset. Angry. Furious. Still, he had to see her. He almost wished it was under different circumstances -- no, he [i]did[/i] wish it was under different circumstances. It wasn't his full conscious choice to come see her now. He almost [i]had[/i] to. He needed her help. It wasn't Jacob this time. He could handle Jacob. It was [i]others.[/i] There were others like them. Other humans who had been taken captive and used as lab rats. Some who had turned out exactly like them -- wings, strength, speed. It was almost unbelievable. The first time Nicholas had come across another super mutant, one who wasn't himself, Jacob, or Mattie, he thought he was hallucinating.

She was a small girl. Roughly 4'10", if he had to guess. She was extremely skinny, and that was probably from lack of proper nutrition. Flying around took a toll on one's body, which meant that an immense amount of extra calories were needed to keep a healthy weight. It looked like this girl was eating less than a normal human's calorie intake each day, as well as going about doing extra flying training. Yet, she was aggressive. Angry. She wanted to fight. Nicholas had no intention to hurt her. He knew he could tear her into a million pieces of he wanted to.

The first hit was unexpectedly hard. In fact, as much as he'd hate to admit it, it knocked Nicholas to the ground. The girl was growling and her eyes were glowing red -- much like Nicholas' own when he got extremely angry. Needless to say, he was very confused and [i]very[/i] taken aback. He picked himself up off the ground and touched a hand to his mouth only to withdraw bloody fingertips.

[i]What the hell,[/i] he said to himself in awe. The girl lunged at him again, but this time he expertly dodged her. It was as if that single miss tore her apart, and she fell to the ground, her head hitting the concrete with a gut-wrenching crunch. Her wings twitched pathetically, slowly spreading out as if she were planning to try to take flight. Nicholas took pity upon her, pulled her to an abandoned building, hoped she would survive, and took off. There was nothing else he could do in the shocked state he was in.

The constant traveling and absence of Mattie didn't push Jacob away. For some reason, the sorry piece of trash was still dead set on killing Nicholas. Nicholas had no idea what his brother possibly had to gain from killing him. Was Nicholas important? Was something being left out of this story that his mother or the scientists hadn't revealed? He didn't know. He didn't plan to ever know. He just planned to one day kill his brother or reason it out with him. The latter seemed almost impossible until the last encounter he'd had with Jacob.

Nicholas was lying face-first on a less-traveled road miles out of the city limits. Another female super mutant stood over him with a look of malicious triumph. It took most of his strength to lift his head up and glare into her eyes, and then it simply fell back down again. "Poor thing," the woman said. "You look so pathetic."

He felt pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Not only had he been practically knocked out by a female, but now she was taunting him. It was like a gift from Heaven when he heard footsteps against the asphalt approaching, and heard the woman give a startled gasp. When Nicholas looked up again, he saw his brother squeezing the life out of her, then he himself blacked out. For a while, he was sure he was dead. Jacob had killed the woman and him both. But when he awoke, he was on a couch. A very, very soft couch.

"What?" was the first word that came out of his mouth. "What happened?"

"Take this," Jacob said, expression extremely stoic. A syringe was presented to Nicholas, and he eyed it skeptically.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Don't ask," his brother replied, "because I don't know. I just know it'll... it'll make you feel better."

Although it had been Jacob's sole goal to kill him for years, something inside of Nicholas told him to trust his brother. After all, if this mystery mixture killed him, there would be nothing left to lose. Yet something about Jacob seemed calmer. Kinder. More trustworthy.

Long story short, the injection, whatever it was, made him stronger for a time. His flying was better. His strength was, well, strong. Speed, faster. Then, when it all faded, he was advised to simply take another hit. And he did this for a solid year. Now, it had been a month since the three year mark of Mattie's absence. Or, rather, Nicholas' absence from Mattie. There was a four-digit number written on a torn piece of paper in Nicholas' left hand and a bouquet of roses in his right. Climbing up the porch steps, he approached the door in front of him, numbers across the surface matching the ones on the paper. Paper shoved in pocket. Shaking hand lifted.

[i]Knock, knock, knock.[/i]