Taken aback by Jones' forthright, Metis' eyes wandered around the room as she tried to configure an answer.<br/><br/>"I don't know," she stammered. "I do what I'm told and don't question it." Metis shrugged and walked back to Jones' chair. She pulled up a chair for herself and sat facing the restrained girl. She couldn't make eye contact at first; she felt suddenly ashamed under Jones' gaze and bit her bottom lip. The room fell quiet for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock. Each tick irritated Metis, it was neverending. Finally she looked up again and flashed an unsure half-smile, losing the heart to feign reassurance.<br/><br/>The injuries on Jones' face concerned her. The open wounds and the dirt could lead to infections if they weren't treated. Metis raised from her chair and walked over to the sink. Dampening some bandage dressings, she returned to Jones to wipe away the drying dirt and blood. It dawned on her that the nurse could have simply found a cup and used the room's sink to give Jones water but she figured the nurse wanted to get away. Metis did not have any friends in the facility only people working beneath her. Most people did not understand why someone catergorised the same as the test subjects was actually leading it. She did not know either; all she knew was it was her job to do so.<br/><br/>"All I know is, we have deals with the government; they fund a great deal of this actually."