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Mark was way too traumatized it answer anything at first, hands visibly shaking as he picked up Dwight's cell phone, holding it close to his chest.

"Dwight, no, Dwight, I- I loved you. Like a brother." Wait, why was Mark already using past tense, "You will be remembered. My bro. My comrade."

And then the Death Assistant had started crying, wiping thick ugly tears with a thicker, uglier sleeve, sadly finishing off Dwight's unfinished burrito and then a couple of sips of the Red Bull because it was just a waste to ruin good food like that. He was again frantically typing on his cellphone, but this time he had a determined expression, and wasn't actually texting.

"Let's go," this was said to Gretchen, the fact that they may have or may not have been a clone entirely forgotten. "We're going to get revenge."

And this is the story of how Mark and Gretchen ended up bursting into Dr. H's office.

The doctor looked up from his work. A look of finite patience on his face as he saw who it was. He didn't say anything, he just waited.

When exactly had she turned from a threat, to a potential science experiment, to a human shield? Gretchen offered a puzzled, helpless frown to the Life lead as Mark spoke over her shoulder.

Before today she'd thought her division assistant was a little on the odd side, a little eccentric, perhaps, but now? Now the blinders were off, and there were things you just couldn't come back from. That's that could not be unseen.

What the heck did this have to do with the doctor killing Dwight. "Look," he began, pushing Gretchen a little closer to the desk like some sacrificial offering, "I'm not researching any clones. Unless you want me to. Which I didn't. Which I would if you said I was, I wouldn't be. So I'm not."

He scratched his head, about two roaches popping out of his hair to scurry under H's desk. "Can we please get to the matter of me doing sexual favours for you so I can get my bro back?"

Gretchen isn't quite stumble as Mark pushed her forward, but it was a near thing, and resulted in a small, startled yip as the toe of her shoe caught against the tile floor. This was getting just a louttle out if hand(had surpassed that a while ago, actually, but she was much too nice to do anything about it). Half turning, she watched as the roaches dislodged and visibly cringe as they hit the ground and went running.

There was a long rambling string that followed, and then a dismissal. Lips pursed, the trainee gave her arm a little tug, trying to shake off the assist's hand so she could do as the good doctor told them.

Her arm was free now, but she wouldn't have the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat. Mark had a handful of her coat, and was using it to drag her out of the office, continuing to use her as a human shield, and then down the hall. Gretchen let out a resigned sigh.

"Kidnapped?" And how exactly had he reached that conclusion? "Not on a mission, then?" And just what did he mean by investigate?

Her head tipped very gently to one side as she watched him, a very small frown forming on full lips. This isn't going to end well.

(Then why haven't you walked away yet?)

Not sure I can, at this point.

(You are hopelesssssss.)

The frown deepened for just a second, but faded as Mark ushered her along. She went, because she wasn't sure what choice she had in the manner. "I'm not sure how valid that is," she countered softly on his logic.

"And I haven't seen Dwight in a few weeks. When did you see him last?"