A/N: Hey guys. It's been a while. Almost a year since I started this story. And the amount of reviews I got, the amount of support from everyone, has been great. So... thanks. Crap, this is starting to sound like I'm reading an acceptance speech. This is the last chapter of Define Human, something I wrote a couple months ago and never really looked at again. I decided I'd put it up here and let you at least read the final... installment. It's not even done. And I'm sorry to the people who really wanted to see where this story was headed. I guess I lost interest in it. You know it's probably time to stop when you cringe at the sight of your own plot. The good news: I'm doing a rewrite. I'll probably keep the general DNA thing, maybe hang onto Xeno, and the title will be the same too. Keep watch for that if you'd like. Hmm. I suppose I'll shut up now. I know you just want to see what this last chapter even looks like. It's not very good. Enjoy, and thanks again.

Hu*man –adjective-- of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or having the nature of people: human frailty.

You know that perception you get when you dream? That weird thought that the world around you isn’t doesn’t really exist at all, but there’s never an easy way to tell if it’s the real thing or not? That’s what I was feeling. I sensed myself leaning against a cold tinted window, watched through half-closed lids as my breath fogged up the glass and blurred my surroundings. I saw a seatbelt keeping me strapped in the backseat of a car, I listened to the slurred voices, some angry and accusing, some defensive, floating around me. I’d drift in and out of darkness, out of consciousness, completely unaware of anything around me. Once in a while a memory would float to my mind, and I’d bite down hard, blind hatred sinking teeth into numb lips, never quite understanding what was causing the emotions. I’d wake up soon, right? I didn’t need to understand, reasoned my delirious mind. These were not my memories. This was not my life. ...Right?

I wished that’s all it was. I was more aware by the time the car pulled into some driveway, conscious enough to know that I wasn’t asleep and dreaming. It was one of those hidden things that wound deep into haunted woods. Dark and foreboding, with those little birds singing their hearts out in the trees—begging for some creep to take ‘em out with a slingshot. I kept my mouth shut, my eyes closed, playing possum. Or, you know, roadkill.

The sound of churning gravel chased the chirping birds from my ears and sent my heart into ecstatic beats. Without my sight, I could pretend this was my house. We’d had a driveway like this, made up of tiny jagged rocks that would slice your bare feet open if you walked on them. Right now, I’d give anything to run down that same driveway and then put blue Crayola crayon Band-Aids over my wounds. I’d even dump on that stinging disinfectant, just to complete the experience.

I opened my eyes to slits. No, this wasn’t my house. Of course not. My cheek was pressed up against the window, making my view less than desirable, but I didn’t want to move. I was supposed to be sedated. I didn’t even know who was here with me. Autumn? An alarming thought entered my head.

What if I’m completely alone? Slowly, almost unbearably so, I turned to my right. As it turned out, the person sitting at the other end of the back seat was definetly not my sister. Instead, Xeno looked over at me, his familiar yet annoying eyes briefly widening in surprise. And then his mouth curved into its signature smile. It occurred to me that it was kind of sad how well I’d come to know his face.

“Crap,” I muttered. My hand reached down to undo the seatbelt that kept me bound to the fabric chair. Maybe I could get out and make a run for it. I glanced outside, figuring I had just enough time, and then realized that the belt refused to budge. I pulled at it, becoming viciously frantic.

“There’s a switch at the dashboard of the car to get that open,” said Xeno. He was watching me calmly, not seeming to care if I got out or not. “I wouldn’t even bother trying.” His head rested on the window, and he switched his gaze from me to the outside world. I gave up on the seatbelt, giving the strip of back Nylon one last hateful-- and unsuccessful-- yank.

“So are you going to tell me anything useful then? Like where we’re headed?” I glanced out the car; we’d come to a stop at some official-looking gate, embedded in a brick wall. Yellow paint was flaking off the rusted metal bars, so I figured it’d been here for a while. Then I directed my attention back to the interior of the vehicle. A barrier separated us—the third class passengers, the cargo—from the driver, who appeared to me as a head of bottle blonde hair and a black shirt, manicured hands on the wheel. I continued my proposal, switching the tone of my voice from sarcastic to cold.

“...Or where Autumn is?”

The distant smile that’d been pasted on his face moments before disappeared, and he looked for a split second to be concerned. I wasn’t sure whether this was good, bad, or creepy. The car lurched forward, and this time there was no gravel to crackle under the weight of the tires. I couldn’t recall when the sound of my childhood had morphed into the smooth pavement noises of reality.

“Your sister is...” Xeno hesitated, like he didn’t want to say what’d happened to her. I felt my heart beat faster, like it knew something I didn’t. I hadn’t wanted to panic, but now it seemed as if I had no choice. At the same time, adrenaline seeped into my bloodstream, though I had no way to use it. Breaking free was apparently out of the question. The gate had closed behind us, and now we were bathed in an soft light, driving into some underground garage. I looked away and tried to avoid glancing back to see where we were going. I focused instead on Xeno’s eyes, trying to figure out the truth. The way the conversation was going, I didn’t think he was going to be the one to give me an honest reply.

“What?” I asked nervously, half afraid of what his answer would be. I tried to remember what’d happened to me—to us, really—before I’d ended up here. Nothing. I couldn’t recall any memories, any senses or visual clues. A needle in my arm, the world fading to darkness... and then waking up here, the car ride to hell. Frustration drew my eyebrows together as I attempted to figure it out.

“She...” Xeno trailed off, pausing to look over at the woman driving. I couldn’t see her face, not even through the rear view mirror. Her hair was tinted orange by the circular lights set into the concrete ceiling of the garage. Every split end, every strand out of place was illuminated in an artificial glow.

“...She stayed behind,” he finished, and I felt my heartbeat get faster.

Final words: In case you wanted to know, Xeno's name comes from both the Greek meaning "stranger" and xenotransplantation, a word I'm a bit fond of because it sounds cool. And because it means transplants between species, which is appropriate (as you woul've eventually found out) due to his genetic code.

And Rose? The mystery word was "batman".