Soaks and I both stood to our full heights, but there was a clear weariness that had taken hold over both of us.

I had my arms up, hands balled into fists.

Soaks's orange-hued salamander head raised steadily, and his left starfish-limb, and his right worm-like-limb, both longer and wriggling like they had minds of their own, dripped yet more burning acid onto the tower block roof.

The air from so high up was cold, strong, and crisp. The sun, behind the clouds, caused the sky to shine bright silver.

There came a hiss followed by several crunching sounds. Soaks had reshaped his mouth and did away with his long, blood-coated fangs altogether to regain his ability to speak unhindered. Much of his human face returned, with the salamander aspect remaining just beyond the fringe of his face, as if he were wearing a shiny reptilian-inspired helmet.

"I don't want to kill you," said Soaks, "I'm just doing this because the Pissers have my Mum. If you stop fighting me and let me take you in, then we don't have to keep doing this. You'll be helping me protect my Mum and the rest of my family."

"No," I resonated, "You made your choices. I don't want anything bad to happen to your mother either, but I can't give you what you want. We don't have to fight-"

"-but we do!" Soaks cut me off, the forced smile on his face twisting into a grimace, "Ever since I was thrown into the Sub-Division I've had to do whatever it takes to survive. To get back to my Mum. She needs me. She's the only thing I care about in this messed up world. If I don't have her in my life, then I don't have anything! Nothing else matters without her! Don't you get that?"

I had to be careful about how I intended to respond. I didn't want to give anything away about my true identity. But, at the same time, I did understand Soaks's plight.

"Then fight the Peepers," I resonated, "Not us."

"They've got her locked away somewhere," said Soaks, taking a single step forward atop his draconic legs, "When Robert Hoffman told me I would become his weapon, you know what he did?"

I perked up at the name, lifting my gaze. If Soaks noticed I'd just given away I knew the name, he didn't show it. Instead he smiled without mirth, with a frenzied look in his eyes.

"First he put one of my Mum's fingers on the table. Told me to take a good look. Said any time I failed to bring one of you Mice back, he'd remove another one. So far I've brought three of you Mice in, and failed to bring in one. That's another finger my Mum's lost because I've failed."

The seething look of hatred returned to Soaks's face, his upper lip trembling and a foamy bile frothing at his lips. But it was clear, though he was facing me with that look of hatred, it wasn't me he was truly angry with. It was that bastard Robert Hoffman.

"And if you don't help me," said Soaks, taking another step closer to me, "He'll cut off more. Is that what you want? You can't bring yourself to help me protect my Mum?"

I took a step back, trying to maintain the distance between me and Soaks. My mind was both on Soaks and everything he was telling me, and the imminent danger he posed. But Clang and Miss Toontastic, and their safety, was on my mind. What if they were trapped and burning alive inside the helicopter? What if I was the only one who could save them? I wanted to move to the edge of the tower roof and look down to the crash site. In my periphery I could see the black smoke trailing into the sky from somewhere below.

"If you take me in," I resonated, "Then nothing will change. You'll still be Robert Hoffman's lapdog."

"So you know him?" said Soaks, raising an eyebrow, "Maybe you were at that facility? The one that burned to the ground?"

Crap.

"Facility?" I resonated.

"Don't try and play dumb, mate," said Soaks, "If you were at that facility – Wedder something weren't it? – And you weren't one of those Punchers he chose for his special program – then there's only four people you could be. Robert Hoffman gave us Divisioner's a list of names. "

Soaks continued to move closer, and in turn I took several more steps back, until I reached the edge of the tower block roof.

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"So," said Soaks, "That means you're either…Walter MacLeod…George Chong…Adam Pertwee…or Burgess O'Bannon."

I couldn't keep the surprise from my face. He was so close. Close enough it hardly mattered if he knew I was any one of his guesses. To be narrowed down to four options was just as bad.

"I bet you're Burgess, meself," said Soaks.

"I don't – I'm not –" I resonated, but Soaks raised his starfish limb in a gesture demanding me to be silent.

"Don't bother. It's you. I know it. So you know what that means? I don't even have to fight you. All I have to do is go back, and tell Robert Hoffman who you really are. And it'll be your mother that gets cut into little pieces, innit?"

I instinctively took a step forward this time, every fiber of my being wanting to punish Soaks for daring to even mention my mother coming to harm. Soaks readied himself for the fight, his wriggling arms raising and dripping yet more acid onto the roof.

But it was Slip that stopped me from losing control. For an instant the Slip-suit refused to obey my desire to charge ahead and to fight. The resistance was enough in itself to sober my rage and to make me rethink what I was doing.

He's goading us, Slip resonated inside my head, Stay calm.

"So you are Burgess after all," said Soaks, "I should have gotten this out of you back at your digs. Would have saved me and the boys a lot of time."

I didn't know what to do. It was my worst nightmare made real. If I let Soaks go knowing what he knew about me, then that was the same as giving up my mother to the Pied Pipers.

And time was running out. The Peepers were going to catch up to us at the tower block sooner rather than later. Clang, Miss Toontastic, and I needed to get moving. This delay was playing even more into Soaks's hands.

"You made your compromises," I resonated, walking along the left-most side of the roof edge.

I daren't risk a glance downward to check on the helicopter crash site, though I dearly wanted to. I knew as soon as I looked that would be the opportunity Soaks was waiting for to catch me off guard.

"I never had a choice," said Soaks, with venomous indignation. He moved in tandem with me. At this rate we were going to be walking to the far left corner, leaving me with even less room to make a move, narrowing the distance between us.

"You've chosen to give into Robert Hoffman's demands," I resonated, "You chose the kind of life that led to you getting stuck in the Sub-Division in the first place."

Soaks stopped moving in tandem with me. He shook his head.

"Nah," he said, "I never had a choice. You want to know something? I didn't even commit the crime that got me sentenced to juvenile prison in the first place, mate. I'm innocent. One day I'm going to find Tiffany Becker, and I'm going to make her pay for what she did to me."

I froze. There was no way he had just said the name I thought he said. But I had heard it clear as day.

"Dean?" I resonated, "Is that your real name?"

Soaks's eyes widened, startled by what I had just said.

"No," he said, "I ain't, Dean. He was me best mate, though. Close as anything we were. Til Tiffany Becker did us in. Made sure we went down."

"Did you in?" I resonated, "What did she do to you?"

For a moment we were no longer Slip and Soaks, two powered teenagers about to fight atop the tower block. For just a moment, we were just two young men in conversation. The humanity reached Soaks's face as he remembered painful memories. His eyes, no longer slits, were hazel, and searching for the words to best answer my question.

"She was Dean's girl," said Soaks, "And Dean was my mate. She didn't want him spending time with me anymore. So she tried to frame me. Made it look like I was trying to sell drugs. But she didn't plan for Dean to get caught up in it too, did she? Serves her bloody right if you ask me. But if she hadn't done that, then I wouldn't've been sent to juvie, wouldn't've been sent to the Sub-Division. And I wouldn't be up here, with you, fighting, right now."

I listened and considered everything Soaks had said. It was stupefying to hear. What were the odds of Soaks knowing Dean and Tiffany? Part of me wanted to not believe Tiffany was capable of framing someone for a crime they didn't commit. But this was the same Tiffany that had broken all of her promises with me, had turned her back on me in favor of Robert Hoffman and his PUNCH program And Tiffany, when I had first met her back at the evacuation depot, had clearly been under a great deal of stress because she had recently shaved her head. But she had said she'd done that because she no longer wanted male attention. And then I remembered with startling clarity the way Soaks had stroked Lure's hair, like he owned it – needed it. Had he once stroked Tiffany's hair like that too?

The ramifications of what Soaks was telling me were exploding inside my head. But it wasn't the time to consider them. Not with so much at stake.

"So that's it?" I resonated, "You're not going to take any responsibility for how you ended up here? It's everyone else's fault except yours?"

"It don't matter," said Soaks, "None of it matters except my Mum. So I'll ask you one more time, Burgess. Hand yourself over and come back with me without a fight. Or I'll leave and tell Robert exactly who you are."

Again I felt the fierce impulse to fight. I wanted nothing more than to grab hold of Soaks and rip his head clean off. And I knew I was capable of doing it. It didn't matter what Soaks had been through, what pressure he was under, or how much I sympathised with him. He was willing to put me through the very same hell he was experiencing. Somehow I resisted the impulse to start the fight without Slip's help.

"And if you go," I resonated, "And return to Robert Hoffman without any of us in your custody. Will a name be enough to convince him not to hurt your mother?"

"Nah," said Soaks, "It wouldn't. You got me there. And the mess we caused back at the mansion's gonna have consequences too."

"So," I resonated.

"So," said Soaks back.

There was only one thing for it. In a way that felt inevitable. I wasn't going to back down. And neither was Soaks.

Soaks's head regressed back into the were-salamander shape, the snout and fangs and reptilian eye-slits re-emerging. And then he made the first move.

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