June's perspective.

June was terrified but triumphant. She had just gotten photographic evidence that the plant was being used for much more nefarious purposes than mass-producing SSRIs and boner pills. She quietly slid her digital camera back into her coat pocket and turned to leave. As she did, she bumped into a large, imposing woman.

She had a moment of panic, dread, and confusion before the woman spoke. "Be calm. Be quiet. Come with me."

June found herself doing all of those things. She meekly trailed her new captor without understanding exactly why. Her pulse was steady, her breathing deep and rhythmic. She knew she was in serious trouble and that she might not survive the night, but she couldn't seem to muster any sense of urgency about it.

She was led to a small room with a cluster of chairs. A small crowd was seated, staring at a glass window. On the other side of that window was a small room, empty save for a girl asleep in a metal chair.

"Meredith!" she said softly, surprised but calm. It was an odd feeling. "She was my backup plan in case things went south."

The woman nodded. "We know. We know all about your little sting. Fortunately for us, she'll be a perfect test subject for something we've been working on for a long time. You'll get to see firsthand what it can do. Don't try to escape, save her, or interfere in any way."

"What are you going to do to her?" June asked with concern. She felt strangely blunted and realized she must have been dosed at some point. That would explain her uncanny obedience as well.

"Just watch," the woman told her. It functioned as both a response and a command, ensuring that whatever happened in that room June would only watch. At that moment, Meredith stirred. Her eyes widened when she felt the restraints.

"Help!" the captive woman screamed. "Where am I?" Her voice was tinny over the small PA system that carried it, but the horror was unmistakable. "Help me! I can't move!"

Then she spotted June. June looked at her with grave concern and guilt, but made no move to get up or even respond. She just had to watch.

"June! June, help! What the fuck, June, get me out of here!" June wanted more than anything to do what she said but she had to stay put. She simply couldn't interfere. She wished there was some way to let Meredith know.

A man in the back of the room spoke into a microphone and Meredith looked up in panic, obviously hearing his voice piped into the room. "June can't help you right now. She's a little preoccupied," he told her. June relaxed a little. At least Meredith knew that she couldn't help. "But don't worry, dear, you'll feel better soon," he finished.

Meredith continued to babble and scream as a thick fog filled the room. June's pulse didn't quicken at all as she watched her underling jump from the chair and run to the window before being completely engulfed in fog. A single hand appeared on the glass, but it didn't move. It was strange, June thought, to be in such a terrible position but be denied the ability to panic. A sense of dread stole over her as she stared at that unmoving palm, but she remained impassively seated. Finally, after several seconds, the gas began to dissipate.

The vision that slowly reappeared was one of Meredith staring thoughtfully at the back of her hand. She cocked her head to one side, as though trying to solve a difficult riddle. The back wall of the room slid sideways and a man entered; the same man who had spoken into the microphone. He was a tall, older guy; maybe early fifties with graying hair and a kind smile.

"Hello, Meredith," he said.

"Hello," she said, returning his smile. "Who are you?"