Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     “Shit, shit, shit, not now!” I hiss, skidding down a little gravel hill, and quickly hiding under an outcropping of rock. I press myself to the stone as flat as I can, watching the Time Fall hit the ground in front of me.
     The grass and weeds are rapidly growing, aging, and dying in front of my eyes. 
     I take deep slow breaths, or at least try to, attempting to steady my racing heart. My hot breath is reflected back at my face by the fabric from the fabric mask I have over my nose and mouth.
     The sounds of rattling, growling breath approaches, and a chill goes up my spine as I see the usual purple or blue swirling smoke that accompany BTs, seeing the handprints appear in the muck in front of me.
     Slowly, I cover my mouth and nose with my hand, trying to muffle the sound of my breathing, as the smoke approaches me. My ears start to ring, and I get the sense of vertigo I get whenever I’m somewhere where the chirealium levels are way too high.
     The shape of a human, or the negative space in the smoke in the shape of a human, draws nearer and nearer. What would be its face is inches away from mine now. Inside the negative space shimmers and moves like heated air from the blacktop does.
     My ears are ringing and my eyes are watering from the sheer density of chirealium in the air with the BT this close. 
     The BT looks in my direction for a moment or so, then slowly moves away.
     I wait, listening for it to leave, and take a deep, shaking breath once the rain stops. 
     The world goes relatively silent.
     I shakily step away from the rocks, wiping the tears from my eyes, and looking around for any more danger.
     There’s nothing. Not even a bird or other small animal in sight.
     “Now…do I return to the building…or go home…?” I mutter to myself. I blink, looking around as colors fade away to the usual grays. I look into my bag, and look at all of the materials I had scavenged from the wrecked building. 
     Some spare fabric, some small hard wear pieces, a chipped mug and drinking glass.
     I sigh. “One more time,” I say, “but I swear, if there’s another goddamned BT, or worse, Mules…” I turn toward the looming figure of the building in the distance and continue back across the jagged wasteland toward it.
     It must have been some kind of residential building at some point, caught in the fallout of a Void Out or something. Of the upper half of the building, only the skeleton frame is left, but the lower half is mostly intact.
     I enter the side door that I had kicked down in the panic of running from the BT, and take a little bit of a better look around this apartment. 
     It looks like it could have housed a small family, maybe with some elderly members, judging by the amount of expired medicine I see around.
     I looked at some of the medicine, and found a first aid kit that could be useful. I also found some canned goods in the kitchen cabinet, some silverware, and a few blankets still in good shape. “Gram will appreciate these…” I mutter, feeling the soft yarn of the blankets, wondering what color they are. I stuff them in my bag, and continue poking around.
     The family who had lived here seems to have made good use of the small amount of room they were given. There are shelves built into the walls, faded photos hanging on the wall, toys, books, shoes, and clothes strewn across the floor. 
     I find what seems to be a living room, and a plastic bag sitting on the ground, next to a couch, catches my eye. 
     It’s sat with what seems to be an old sewing box, next to an armchair with faded doilies on the back and arms of it. Next to the armchair is an abandoned 
     I tilt my head a little, and carefully step toward it. I pick the bag up, and look in, seeing small bundles of yarn. I smile, and grab one, feeling that it’s a rougher texture than other yarns, almost like it’s dry to the touch, in a clingy kind of way. 
     There are also ones of a more fringe kind of texture, like what a towel would be made of.
     “Cotton yarn…” I mutter, “…Gram will definitely appreciate that…” I tie the bag closed and tie it to my belt, and reach for the sewing box, when something catches my attention.
     The sound of heavy, slow footsteps, and they’re nearby.
     I look up, stepping toward the door, my hand slowly reaching for the knife on my thigh. I stand next to the doorway, peering beyond into the hall of the apartment. I narrow my eyes, dust motes floating across the darkened hall.
     A man in Bridges uniform picks through the wrecked kitchen, looking around. He’s holding a bundle of fabric to his chest, and has a non-functioning odrideck on one shoulder.
     I grit my teeth, rage boiling in my chest as I read the words on his uniform. ‘Assholes…’ I think. I grip the handle of my knife, unbuttoning the closure to make it easier to draw. I watch, waiting for an opportunity to slip silently out of the apartment.
     The man starts to walk out of the kitchen, making it more difficult for me to leave unseen. He looks around, almost like he’s not sure what he’s found, and then looks in my direction. He skips over me at first, then his eyes flick back to me.
     Our eyes meet, a silent moment of astonishment between us.
     I start to slowly back away.
     “Hey!” He calls out, “Wait!”
     This only makes me pick up speed, dashing to the front door of the apartment, throwing it open and dashing up the stairs to the next level.
‘Only thing worse than BTs is real people…’ I think as I wind up the stairs, hoping to get to the skeletal levels.
     The man’s footfalls thunder after me on the stairs, only paces behind me.
     “Fucking…” I hiss, bursting out of the service door at the top of the stairs, into the ruined level of the building, the rest of the skeletal supports towering above us. I skid to a stop as I see that the floor itself is crumbling, barely saving myself from falling.
     The man exits the door soon after me. “Hey!” He calls out, and rushes up to me.
     I turn a little, and as he comes up to me, I put my hands up, pushing him back a little. “Wait!” I yelp, just barely keeping my balance.
     He glances down, and sees where we’re standing, and grabs my coat. He takes a few steps back, pulling me with him.
     As I step forward, I feel some concrete fall under my foot. I take a deep breath, glancing down and behind me. “Fucking…” I mutter, and pull myself from his grip a little, “…admittedly…I can’t blame you for that…I chose to run up here,” I rub the back of my neck a little bit.
     He stares at me, surprised at first, almost like he recognizes my voice. He grabs my coat again, angrily this time.
     “Woah, hey-” I say, raising my hands.
     “How the hell did you get off of the beach…?” He demands, his voice low and rough.
     I tilt my head, confused. “I…uh…I’m not sure what you mean,” I say, “You must have me confused with someone else,”
     “Don’t fuck around with me, Higgs…” he growls, pulling my bandana down to fully show my face, “I’m done with this shit,”
     I pause, a feeling of anger and regret rising in my chest, to my throat. I sigh. “This shit again…” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
     He looks confused.
     I lower my hood. “I’m not Higgs,” I say, “but, believe me, you’re not the first to think that,”
     He narrows his eyes. “You don’t have the shit on your forehead…” he mutters, glancing up at my forehead, “But…you look a whole hell of a lot like him…sound like him, too…” He looks me up and down.
     I sigh. “Believe you me, I wish I didn’t,” I say, wrenching his hand from my coat, and patting out the wrinkles, “now, if you don’t mind-“
     I’m interrupted by some fussing from the bundle in his arms.
     I look down, and see an infant looking up at me, moments away from crying. I sigh a little bit. “Oh, little one…” I mutter, then pause, realizing that color is starting to fade back. I quickly put my hood back up as it started to rain. I look up, “Shit…” I mutter, “hey, bud, we should get inside…” I look at him, “Now,”
     He looks at me confused, but nods. He backs up to the service door.
     I turn toward the open sky, looking around as I raise the bandana over my mouth and nose. I slowly back away, counting three BT clouds in the distance, and closing in. I enter the stairway after the man does, and motion for him to continue down. “I’ve picked most of these apartments clean,” I say, “I was just finishing up on the ground floor when we ran into each other,”
     He nods a little.
     We continue down the stairs to the ground floor, and stand at the back door, watching for an opening to leave.
     I grit my teeth, and stand with my back to the wall next to the door. “Ok…” I say, pulling out the map of the area I had drawn, copying what is in the Atlas, “…I can mark this one off,” I mark this building with an X, and also circle it, making a little note of “BT Central”, putting four Tally marks next to it.
     The man looks at me, looking confused.
     “Keep watch, Bridges,” I say, “I’m trying to figure out a way home that keeps us out of Time Fall and away from Mules,”
     He glares at me a little. “Where’s home?” He asks, “one of the Knots?”
     I scoff. “Not in a million years,” I say, “Nah, you wouldn’t know it. Wouldn’t be on any of your maps. Luckily, you’re in the presence of an experienced Scout, so…we’ll get there before nightfall,”
     He scoffs a little as well. “Little full of yourself…” he mutters.
     I stand up, putting the map away, and look him dead in the eyes. “How many BTs do you think are out there, right now?” I ask him.
     He furrowed his eyebrows. “Can…can you see them?” He asks.
     “In a way,” I say, “but, that’s besides the point, there are three out there, and if we’re not careful, me, you, and the infant will all be caught in a Void Out. Now, I don’t know about you, but I have people I’d like to get back to. Are you going to trust me or not?”
     He stares at me, considering his options. He sighs. “Fine…” he mutters, “…but if I think you’re going to hurt or betray us…”
     I nod a little. I look out of the door, and see that it isn’t raining anymore. “Ok…we should be fine for now,” I mutter. I point toward the cliff faces in the distance. “See those?” I say, “the mountains? That’s where we’re going,”
     He looks, and nods a little. “Lead the way,” he says.
     I nod, and start out of the building, picking up my pace as, again, the colors start to fade away.

Chapter Text

We approach the cliff face, and I lead the man to the hidden path to a gap in the rocks.

“Where are you taking me?” He asks.

“Patience, Bridges,” I say, “I’ll explain when we’re safe,” I lead him to a hidden door, painted to blend into the rock face. I press the button on the center of the door, to request entrance.

The man looks at me, then looks at the door. He looks both amazed and confused, holding the infant close to him.

A panel on the door slides open, and Shayne, a Guard, looks out at me, eyebrows furrowed. “The hell you doin’ out here, Monaghan?” He asks, confused, “didn’t you look at the charts? All the Time Fall predicted for today?”

I sigh. “Just…let me in, Shayne,” I say, lowering my bandana, “I’ve got a Wanderer,” I nod back at the man.

He looks at the man I’ve led here, and nods a little. “He’s Bridges?” He asks.

“Ex-porter,” the man says, “My name is Sam. Sam Porter Bridges,”

I look at him, and raise an eyebrow a little. I then look back at Shayne. “Just…let us in Shayne,” I say, “I’m tired, we’ve had to run from like…five BTs?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes a little. “I swear, you have a death wish…” he mutters, sliding the panel closed.

Sam looks at me. “Monaghan…” he mutters, “…that was Higgs’ last name…”

I nod a little. “My name’s Graeson Monaghan,” I say, “but…most people call me Grey,” I look at him. “Higgs is my brother. About three years older than me,”

He stares at me, and I can see that he’s both astonished and confused.

The door slowly lifts, and as soon as I have room to, I duck under it, entering Haven.

“Entry tax, Monaghan,” Shayne says, grabbing my shoulder, stopping me, “Bridges doesn’t have to pay, since it’s his first time here,”

I nod, reaching into my bag, and pulling out a can of soup that I had found. “I’ll show him the ropes, don’t worry,” I say, handing the soup to Shayne, “Say ‘hi’ to Ella for me, okay?”

He nods a little, accepting the can and placing it with others on the table behind him.

I look back at Sam, who looks confused, and lower my hood. I smile a little at him, and nod to the hall behind me. “This way, Bridges,” I say.

He nods, and follows me as I continue down the hall carved out of the stone of the mountain.

The cavern widens, showing the buildings of Haven. There are houses, taller buildings, stores, all around a central building, where the Guards, Scouts, and other professions report.

“Whoa…” Sam mutters, “…what is this place?”

“This is Haven,” I say, glancing at a skull painted in white paint on a nearby wall, “a city hidden from the eyes of Bridges and the hands of the Mules. No chiral network, no worries of being attacked, not even any BTs. We all work together to make sure we each have what we need,”

He nods a little. “You…you said you were a Scout?” He asks.

I nod. I turn the corner of a street. “We’re like porters,” I say, “but…we go out into the wastelands, scavenge for any supplies, bring home things to trade with and to give to the Market,”

He nods a little.

“We have a lot of careers here,” I say, “so I’m sure you can find something. There’s Artisans, Merchants, Scouts, Porters, Guards, Caretakers,” I count off on my fingers the professions I list, “I’m a part time Scout, part time Caretaker, with the help of another Caretaker,”

“This…Gram you keep mentioning?” He asks.

I nod, leading him to our house. “Here,” I say, “we’ll go in through the back. Less likely to be noticed that way,”

He nods a little.

I get to the back door, and, using my key, unlock it.

The kitchen is dark.

I step in, and let Sam in as well. I flick the kitchen light on, and place my bag on the counter.

There’s footsteps approaching from the living room, making Sam back up a little.

I look up, and hold my hand up to stop him, and see Gram approaching.

Gram is a fairly small, elderly woman, with large glasses, silver hair tied up in a bun, and is currently wearing a handmade sweater over her linen pajamas. Like most of us in Haven, she’s wearing a series of necklaces around her neck: keys, gems, other trinkets on chains, given to her as payment for tasks. “Gray?” She asks, “Is that you?”

“It it, Gram,” I say, “and…I have guests,”

She looks at Sam, and looks concerned. “Bridges…” she mutters, looking at me.

“Ex-Bridges,” I say to her, gently grabbing her hands, and resting my forehead on hers, briefly, “he has an infant with him, Gram,”

She looks surprised, and looks at Sam.

I also look at Sam.

Sam looks at me, concerned, a little hesitant.

I nod a little.

He sighs. He takes a step toward her, and shows the infant he has swaddled in the fabric. “Her name is Louise,” he says, softly, “she was a BB…”

I stare at him, and look at the baby.

The baby looks at me, and almost seems to wink.

“Oh, she’s so small…” Gram mutters, “…here, let me take her to the nursery…Gray, warm up some formula for her,” She gently takes the infant from Sam. “And warm up some food for her protector,” she looks up at Sam, and smiles warmly.

Sam nods a little. “Thank you…” he mutters.

I nod, and go to one of the cabinets, grabbing the open can of formula. I set it on the counter, then take my pack off of the counter, setting it on the table.

Gram looks at it, glancing at me, before leaving the room to take Louise up to the nursery.

I take my coat off and hang it on the back of one of the chairs. My tokens, three necklaces, jingle as the coat is removed. “Sit down,” I say to Sam, gesturing to one of the chairs.

He nods a little, sitting down. “What are the keys about?” He asks, pointing to me, “Gram also had them…”

“They’re tokens of appreciation,” I say, grabbing a key and holding it up, then letting it drop, “we don’t really have a monetary economy here, it’s more a…form of barter system. We trade items for items, items for tasks, tasks for tasks. Or…we use tokens to pay people back for tasks,” I grab a can of soup from the cupboard, and check the date on it before finding the can opener.

“And…people can see how many tasks you’ve done for people?” Sam asks.

I nod. “Yeah, it has become something of a…well, a silent way to judge and make assumptions about people,” I say, opening the can and pouring it into a pot, “if you have a lot of tokens, you’re either extremely helpful, or extremely stingy, or both. If you have none or very little, you’re either not helpful at all, or easily give away your own tokens. Could go either way. Which is why everyone tries their best to have a good middling number of them,”

“Gray?” A young voice says from the doorway, then she gasps, “Gray! Gram said you were back!”

I turn and catch the young girl as she runs up to me to hug me. “Ugh, Mari!” I say, picking her up, “Sorry I’m so late…”

She has short, dark hair, and is wearing a simple pair of pajamas, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She hugs me around my neck, resting her forehead on mine. “It’s okay!” She says, “But, look!” She holds up a tooth, maybe from a bear, on a piece of leather cord. “I got my first token today!” She cheers.

I smile wide. “Good job, Bud!” I say, “what did you do?”

“I helped Ms. Gunther across the street move her tomato plants,” she says, “she gave me this afterward, along with some cookies for the other kids!” She smiles, proudly, then notices Sam. She looks at him, curiously.

“Oh, Mari, this is Sam,” I say, turning more toward him, “he and Louise, his kid, are going to be staying with us,”

Sam nods a little. “Hi…” he mutters.

She nods a little, touching her forehead.

He looks a little confused, but imitates the movement.

I chuckle, and set Mari down. “Ok, go back to sleep, bud,” I say, “you need your rest,” I ruffle her hair a little.

She smiles wide and nods. “Goodnight, Grey,” she says, then looks at Sam, “Good night, Mr. Sam,” She then leaves, and goes back upstairs.

Sam watches her, then looks at me. “What…what was the…uh…” he looks at me, and touches his forehead again.

“It’s…it’s like a salute,” I say, “or a greeting. For families and people more familiar with each other, you actually touch foreheads. For…less familiar, or if you’re not exactly comfortable touching someone, but don’t mind a simple poke, you touch your forehead, and then theirs. For strangers, you just touch your forehead, bowing a little. It’s got something to do with…I don’t know, acknowledging them as a fellow sentient being or something…”

He nods a little. “Huh…” he mutters.

I nod, stirring the soup. I watch the liquid, and sigh softly. “I think I’ve got some clothes you can borrow,” I say, “if you want to get rid of that Bridges stuff…”

“I’ve got clothes,” he mutters, “thanks, though,”

I nod.

Someone enters the kitchen, and I glance over my shoulder, seeing Gram.

She smiles softly, and walks over to me, grabbing the formula I prepared. “Find anything interesting on your outing, Grey?” She asks.

I smile a little, nodding. “Take a look in my bag, when you’ve got the chance,” I say, nodding toward the table.

She raises an eyebrow, and looks at the table. She smiles a little. “Well,” she says, “I’ll go feed Louise first, then I’ll look,”

I nod.

She leaves with the bottle.

I place the lid on the pot, and sit down at the table.

Sam looks out the door, watching Gram, and then looks at me. “Hey, Grey…” he mutters, “there were…uh…tags, I guess, that I saw when we were walking here. White skulls on walls,”

I nod. “Left behind by…well, no one really knows who it is,” I say, “but the Guard has started to call them Silver Skull. Vigilante, taking care of things the Guard refuses to. Thieves, gangs, that kind of shit,”

He nods a little. “When did that start?” He asks.

I tilt my head. “Hard to say,” I say, shrugging.

He nods again.

I stand up, check the soup, and smile. “I think it’s ready,” I say, grabbing a bowl and filling it. I place it in front of Sam.

He nods a little, in thanks. He grabs a spoon from a jar on the table and starts to eat the soup. He sighs, happily.

I chuckle, getting myself a glass of water. “Good?” I ask him.

He nods. “I haven’t had soup in a while…” he mutters, between spoonfuls of soup.

I smile, nodding.

Gram enters the kitchen again, and sits at the table. “Let’s see what you got, then…” she mutters, grabbing my bag. She rifles through for a second, then gasps. “Gray,” she says, glancing at me.

I smile softly, sipping my water.

She takes out the cotton yarn, and examines each skein. “They’re wonderful!” She says, “I can make not only things for the kids, but things for the Market, as well…”

I smile. “You’re welcome,” I say, “though, I will not go back to that building…smack in the middle of BT territory,” I chuckle softly. “Maybe Shayne is right,” I say, “Maybe I do have a death wish of some kind,”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. She looks at Sam. “I set up a guest room next to the nursery, so you can stay near Louise,” she says, “Gray is across the hall from the room, so if you need anything…” she nods toward me.

“Bother him, I got it,” Sam says, nodding, glancing at me.

I chuckle, shaking my head a little.

---

I snap awake, giving a panicked yelp, throwing my arms out in front of me as someone shakes me.

“Woah!” Sam says, catching my arms, “Gray! Calm down…”

I take a deep breath, feeling myself shaking. “Sam?” I say, my voice hoarse, “what’s up?”

“I’d like to ask you the same thing,” he says, “hollering like that in your sleep…you alright?”

I pause, and shakily raise a hand to my own face. I feel tears leaking from my eyes, but they have a sticky kind of consistency to them. “Y-yeah…” I mutter, “…just a dream…”

“A nightmare?” He asks, and the light clicks on. He looks at me, and his face drops a little in horror. “Gray…what the hell…” he mutters.

I sit up, sitting on the edge of my bed. I grab a rag nearby and wipe the inky black tears from my face. I stand up and go to the bathroom connected to my room.

“Gray…” Sam says, following me.

“Don’t,” I say, washing the tear stains from my face, “just…don’t ask,”

He sighs. “What are those tears?” He asks, “they…they look like…tar?”

I sigh, and nod. “Only when I have nightmares, though,” I say, “not sure what really…triggers them, but…I have nightmares almost every night,”

Sam sighs, crossing his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Damn…that’s got to suck…” he mutters.

I tilt my head, frowning a little. “I’ve gotten used to them,” I say, “didn’t realize I was having one until you said something,”

He nods again. “Remember what it was about?” He asks.

I sigh, and look at him through the mirror. I turn around, crossing my arms, leaning back against the sink. “What they’re always about…” I mutter, looking down at the floor, almost ashamed, “…Higgs,”

He looks surprised. “I guess he sucked growing up, too, huh?” He asks.

I tilt my head. “Eh…he was fine for a while,” I say, “protective, sure, but…not horrible. Then…he left to find his own way,” I sigh. “Unfortunately,” I say, “Gram and I were living in the city he nuked, Middle Knot, but…we were given a heads up, so…we were able to leave,”

He furrowed his eyebrows, about to say something, when there’s a knock on my door.

I look over his shoulder as Emili, one of the oldest children here, pokes her head into the room.

She has long, light hair, wearing a pair of pajamas that is a shirt and pants. She has four tokens hanging around her neck, and two others around her wrist. She glances at Sam, then looks at me.

“Grey?” She says.

“Yeah, Em?” I ask.

She sighs. “Jayme threw up,” she says, “he’s in the boys’ bathroom,”

I nod a little. “I thought he was getting better…” I mutter, approaching her.

“So did we,” she says, glancing at Sam again.

I exit my room and head to the bathroom, and find the eight year old boy kneeling at the toilet, coughing. I kneel next to him. “I’m here, Jayme…” I mutter, softly, gently rubbing his back.

He’s sweaty and pale, his little hands gripping the porcelain of the toilet. He takes a deep breath, and looks at me. His eyes are glassy. “Hi…Grey…” he mutters.

I sigh, and glance in the toilet. My mouth goes dry as I see dark spots in the vomit. “You think you’re done for now?” I ask, quietly, “I am willing to stay here with you for as long as you need me…”

He nods a little.

“Em,” I say, looking over my shoulder at her, “could you get a glass of water?”

She nods. She passes Sam and leaves the room.

I sigh. “Have you been taking your medicine?” I ask Jayme.

He looks away from me.

“Jayme,” I say, sternly.

“We ran out…” he mutters, “…while you were gone…and Gram said we couldn’t get more…they’re rationing it, and saving it for people who really need it…”

I grit my teeth, and sigh. “Of course they are…” I mutter, angrily.

“Here, Grey,” Emili says to me, handing me a glass of water.

I nod and hand it to Jayme. “Rinse your mouth out,” I say, “then small sips, see if you can keep that down,”

He nods. He takes a sip of the water, swishes it around in his mouth, then spits it out. He then takes small sips, pausing a little between each. His eyes are drooping a little.

I watch him, and gently touch his forehead, checking for a fever. “You have a bit of a fever…” I mutter, “…meaning it's a germ of some kind…”

He nods a little. “I…I think I’m doing better, Grey…” he mutters, handing me the glass.

I nod. “Let’s get you back in bed,” I say, softly, standing him up.

---

The thug falls to the ground after my final punch. I’m breathing heavily as I step back, and turn as I hear the footfalls of Guards rushing up to the alley. “Shit…” I hiss, and dash down the alley, quickly scrawling my tag on the wall.

A white skull.

I dash down an alley, vault over some waste bins, and tumble to a stop. I take deep breaths, and lean against the wall, listening.

The sounds of the guards are getting further and further away.

I nod a little, and continue down the alley, when I hear a voice that catches my attention.

“Back off!” The boy’s voice echoes through the alley.

“Or what?!” Another young voice responds, “You gonna call your mommy? Oh wait…you don’t have a mom. You’re all alone, Barren,”

I grit my teeth, and make my way toward the sound. Silently, I approach the young men.

Darren, one of the children from the orphanage, has his back to me, and is being confronted by three, bigger, young men.

“I…I’m not alone,” Darren says, balling his fists.

The young man in the middle, the leader it seems, scoffs. “Right,” he says, “the old woman and the freak, and all the little brats in that house. They’re your family, right?” He laughs and rolls his eyes.

The kid to his right laughs, then sees me. “Shit…” he hisses, nudging the leader.

The one to the leader’s left notices me soon after, eyes going wide. “Oh, no…” he mutters, “…dude we gotta go,”

The leader looks from one, to the other, then back at Darren. Then, he finally notices me. His eyes widen, slowly, and he goes pale. He starts to slowly back away.

“Huh?” Darren mutters, and I gently grab his shoulder.

“What are you kids talking about?” I ask, my mask muffling my voice a little.

“N-nothing…” the leader mutters, “…bug off…”

“Dude, shut up!” The one to his left whimpers, “That’s Silver Skull!”

“I don’t care,” the leader says.

“W-we should go…” the one to his right says.

“Yeah,” I say, “you should. I’ll let you off easy this time, but if I catch you again…” I tilt my head a little.

They all nod, and scurry away.

Darren looks at me, and takes a step away from me. “Oh, shit…” he mutters.

“Where should you be?” I ask.

He hangs his head a little. “I…I was headed home…” he mutters.

“Shouldn’t you already be there?” I ask.

He sighs, and looks away from me. “I just…I wanted to help…” he mutters, “…it’s not the best at home right now…”

I nod a little. “Well…you probably have people worried,” I say, “get going, kid,”

He nods. “Thanks…” he mutters, “…for scaring them…”

I nod. I nudged him a little more. “Get going, kid,” I say, and point to him, “and stay out of trouble,”

He nods. “Thanks…” he mutters, starting to walk away, “you know…I thought because of the stories about you…that you were like the terrorists out there…” he looks toward the wall of the city.

I grit my teeth, wondering what they’re saying about me, and how similar to Higgs I sound. I nod a little. “Well…I’m not like them,” I say, “at least…so long as you stay out of trouble,” I point at him.

He chuckles nervously, and continues to walk away.

I watch him, wait until he’s out of sight, and start toward the orphanage in a different way. I get to a section of the building under my window, and climb up a rope I left hanging out of it.

So far, I haven’t seen light or movement inside the building.

I get into my room, and quickly put my mask and other gear into a gap in the floor of my closet, replacing the floor board to hide them. I run my hands through my hair, and rub my face a little, looking up as someone knocks on my door. I furrow my eyebrows. “Hello?” I say, standing up, closing my closet.

The door opens and Sam pokes his head in. “You ready?” He asks. His hair is not tied up, and he’s wearing an old coat of Pops’ over a gray shirt and black pants he must have been wearing under his uniform. He also has on his BRIDGES issued boots.

I pause, confused. “Were…you waiting for me for something?” I ask.

He looks a little annoyed, or amazed. “You said you’d take me to the main building, or something,” he says, “show me how things go around here,”

I nod. “Right, yeah, sorry,” I say, “almost forgot,” I grab my bag and put it on, then step into my boots, fastening them.

“Gram also gave me a list of things to pick up,” he says, looking at the little paper in his hand. He looks at me. “Maybe…” he says, starting to hand it to me.

I push it back toward him. “This’ll be your first task,” I say, “Gram may give you your first token for it,”

He nods, putting the list in his pocket. “I’m leaving Lou here…” he mutters, “Emili said she’s learning how to take care of the little kids?”

I nod. “So she can help Gram and I,” I say, “I can’t be here all the time, because of the Scouting job,”

He nods. “Well…let’s go,” he says.

I nod, and lead him out of the building.

---

We approach the Hub, and I veer a little to the left.

“Where are you going, Grey?” Sam asks, following me, “I thought Market was that way…” he points back behind him.

“I’ve got to report first,” I say, getting to the Scout building, taking out my map. “I need to update my map, and check in with Stu. Tell him how it went,”

He looks at me, and nods a little. “Is he your boss?” He asks, following me.

“Kinda,” I say, tilting my head, “he’s Lead Scout. After each trip, we come here, tell him how long we were out there, how far we went, what we found. We also use this opportunity to update not only our personal maps, but also the Atlas,” I tap his shoulder with my folded up map.

He looks at the map. “Atlas?” He asks.

“Big honking map of the area,” I say, gesturing with my hands, leading him down a hall to Stu’s office, “but, since we don’t have fancy-shmancy tech like Bridges does, the ‘data sharing’ is manual. We each have a map that is a smaller copy of the Atlas, and, as we’re Scouting, we mark ours with what we’ve found. Then, when we come back, we add what we’ve marked on our maps onto the Atlas, and look at what other Scouts have added, adding them to our maps, so we’re all updated with the same data, so to speak,”

He nods a little. “I mean…a few extra steps, but…it’s smart,” he says, “How many Scouts are there?”

“Including myself and Stu, seven,” I say, “which, admittedly doesn’t seem like a lot, but…we make it work,”

He nods a little.

I knock on Stu’s office door, and wait.

No answer.

“He must be getting coffee or something…” I mutter, when I see a note on his door.

At Atlas. - Stu

“Well, we were headed that way anyway…” I mutter, turning and patting Sam’s shoulder. “Well, Bridges,” I say, passing him, “looks like we get to see the Atlas sooner than I thought,”

He nods as I lead him back down the hall.

I walk back down the hall, and enter a door to our left.

The large, circular room, table in the middle and bookshelves lining the walls, has a domed ceiling, decorated with constellations like the night sky. On the table is a massive map of the Eastern Region.

Stu looks up from the table, and smiles. The man is almost twice my age, and still going on jaunts into the wasteland. He’s missing a few teeth, has wild hair, and wears an eyepatch, but he’s a great man. “Grey!” He says, cheerfully, touching his forehead, then looks at Sam, “And a new recruit?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” I say, returning the gesture, looking at Sam, briefly, “I’m showing him around, for now,”

Sam copies us, nodding a little. He looks at the map and chuckles a little. “That’s…a big honking map,” he looks at me, a kind of mischievous look in his eyes.

I laugh a little, walking up and grabbing my marker.

Sam looks at the cups screwed into the table, marked with the names of scouts, each with a different color of pen in them. “What’s with the pens?” He asks.

“So we know who went where and when,” Stu says, “you mark your updates, and write when you made them, and we know how recent our info is,”

I find where the old apartment building was, double checking on my map, and draw our symbol for a wrecked building. I label it “Old Apt. Bldg.” and leave a note next to it: “Do not advise, unless you have a death wish. BT central” I write the date, and doodle some BTs around the building. I then look back and forth between my map and the Atlas, crossing out some things that aren’t there anymore, and labeling a new MULE camp location that’s uncomfortably close to Haven’s entrance. “That’ll do ‘er…” I mutter.

“What color is your pen, Grey?” Sam asks, sounding genuine. When I turn to look at him, exasperated, he’s genuinely curious looking.

I pause, remembering I haven’t told him yet. I clear my throat, looking at the marker. 

It looks like a dark gray.

“Er…purple,” I say, then mutter, “at least, that’s the color I asked for. And, I hope Stu isn’t fucking with me and gave me a different color,” I look at the man and smile a little.

He laughs. “I promise, Grey, it’s purple,” he says, quietly, to me, “Cross my heart,”

I nod. I look back at the Atlas, taking out a pen from my cup and adding things to my map, changing some things other Scouts left on the map. “And…done!” I say, smiling. I roll up my sleeve a little, and flip the seven beads on one of my bracelets from the light and shiny side to the dark and dull side. “God, that feels good every time I do it…” I mutter, taking a deep breath.

Stu chuckles. “Anything of note, Monahagn?” He asks.

I shrug. “Found an old apartment building that looked like people left in a hurry,” I say, tapping my note, “but…it's swarming, so…I’m not going to return there in a hurry. Also, MULES seem to be camping out the Passage, so…we should be cautious,”

He nods. “Find anything interesting?” He asks.

I tilt my head a little. “Good amount of medicine, soup and fruit cans that were still good,” I say, “and some cotton yarn I gifted to Gram,” I place my bag on the table, and show him what’s in the bag.

As allowed, I took half of the food cans for the orphanage, but I have the rest in my bag.

He nods, marking down what’s there. He takes the medicines, setting them aside, and counts the cans and marks it down. He opens up a case, and takes out some credit chips. “Alright…twenty medicine credits…five material…seven food…” he says, laying out the chips for me.

I nod, grabbing them, putting them in a pouch on my bag that I keep my credits in. I pause, and take a deep breath. “Hey, Stu?” I ask.

He nods. “What’s up, kid?” He asks, putting the credits away.

“Do you know why they're rationing medicine?” I ask, “like…why are they denying some people medicine?”

He looks at me oddly, then his face drops. “Jayme?” He mutters.

I nod. “Apparently they’ve stopped giving the medicine,” I say, “I’m gonna go to Market now, see if I can’t get any, but…” I sigh.

He nods. He pauses, and sighs. “What’s he need?” He asks.

I look at him. “Huh?” Then realize why he’s asking. I sigh. “No, Stu, don-“ I start.

“Grey, you and those kids are important to everyone you gush about them to,” he says, “what medicines he need?”

I sigh. “Antibiotics and…something for fever or nausea,” I say.

He nods a little. “I can spare some aspirin, if you need,” he says, rounding the table, and heading toward the door.

I nod, following him. I start taking off a bracelet, one of my tokens, but he grabs my hand.

“No need,” he says, “I’m not doing this as a task. I’m doing it as a friend,”

I sigh. “No, Stu, I want to pay you back,” I say.

“You pay me back enough by working your ass off as one of our best goddamned Scouts,” he says, “now, just give me a second, and I’ll get you the meds,”

I nod, and watch him go down the hall to his office.

The hall is silent.

Sam softly clears his throat.

I look at him. “Questions later…” I mutter, “…at the Market…”

He nods. “Got it…” he mutters.

Stu comes back and hands me a small bottle. “Here…” he says, “it ain’t much, but…it should help,”

I nod, putting the bottle into my bag. “Thanks, Stu,” I say, “really, I…this means a lot,”

He smiles and nods. He gently grabs my shoulder, patting it a little. He taps his forehead, then pokes mine. “Now, get going, kid,” he says, and then looks at Sam. “Hope you make your decision on career,” he says, then moves his eyepatch, showing a milky white eye, and winks with it, “and hope to see you around,” he moves the eyepatch back.

Sam nods.

I smile, and pass Sam again, tugging him a little to follow me out of the building.

---

“Ok, so, credits are kinda our monetary system,” I say, looking through the stalls and shelves of the Market, “prevents us from having to lug around the stuff we trade. There are four types: food, medicine, material and product. When Scouts bring things to Stu, he gives the items to the Tellers, and they stock the Market with them. Those cans and things should be on the shelves by tomorrow,”

Sam nods a little. “And…each credit is worth one of that kind of thing?” He asks.

I nod, patting his shoulder. “You got it,” I say, “so, in total, I have nine material, thirty medicine, nineteen food, and eighteen product. What is on the list?”

He takes out the slip of paper that Gram gave him. “Uh…” he says, looking at it, “soap, cutlery, chalk, fruit, tissues or handkerchiefs, bread, thread, herbs, flour, baking soda, powdered eggs, and powdered milk…” he looks at me, almost confused.

I nod a little, slowly. I look at him, gesturing to the shelves. “Well, Bridges,” I say, “go on. Find the stuff. This is your task,” I say smiling a little.

He smiles back, a little, and nods.

I keep my eye on him as he wanders, and I meander to the medicines. I look through, finding some penicillin, some dimenhydrinate, and some more aspirin. I also grab a box of bandaids, both regular and one with fun patterns. I smile a little. “Jaden would like those…” I mutter. I look up and around, finding Sam over by the canned goods. 

He looks at me, and glances at the medicine and band aids. “Found what you need?” He asks.

I shrugged. “Should help for a bit…” I mutter, “…need any help?”

He tilts his head. “She just said ‘fruit’…” he mutters, “…what kind of fruit?” He looks at some canned peaches, then looks over at a jar of applesauce.

I chuckle. “Well, applesauce is good for the infants,” I say, “which, there’s three, now: Louise, Lylah, and Asa,” I grab the jar, and give it to Sam, “no one in the house really eats peaches, unless Gram makes a cobbler, but the younger kids, Mari, Ozcar and Jaden, like…oranges,” I grab a can of mandarin oranges, and hand it to him. “Admittedly, me and the older kids, Emili, Kora, Darren, and Nahla, like them too, but…” I tilt my head.

He nods a little. “How many kids are there?” He asks, “I briefly saw them as we passed through the kitchen today, but…couldn’t get a headcount,”

I nod. “Fifteen, now, including Louise,” I say.

“Holy shit,” Sam mutters, reaching for another can on the shelf, “We better grab more oranges…”

I laugh a little.

---

I’m stirring a pot of soup, Mari hanging onto one of my legs, singing a little song.

Gram is getting the table set, with Emili’s help, and other kids are milling about, sitting at the table, getting drinks, and playing in the backyard.

I glance out the window, and see Sam playing with some of the kids.

It looks like a game of tag of some kind.

He’s grabbed Ozcar and is kinda spinning him around, Ozcar laughing heartily. His token from Gram, an old silver dollar coin from before the Stranding on a chain, hangs around his neck.

I smile softly.

“He’s already fitting in well…” Darren says, getting a glass of water.

I nod a little. “He is,” I say, “Mari, honey, don’t hug my leg too tight, you’re going to make me fall…everything alright, Darren? You seem kinda down…”

He nods. “Just…worried,” he says, “about Jayme…he’s still up in his room…too sick to eat…”

I sigh, and nod. “After I’m done here, I’ll go check on him…” I mutter, “got some medicine at Market today…should help him a little,”

Darren looks at me. “Grey-“ he starts, but I look at him, briefly.

“It’s my job to take care of you guys,” I say, “and it’s what I earn the credits for,”

He nods. “What…uh…what kinds did you get?” He asks.

“Stuff to help his fever, his nausea, things like that,” I say, “and penicillin, in case it’s a bacterial thing. We should take him to a Doctor, just in case, but…I’m out of Doctor Credits…”

He nods. “If…I got a career…would that help?” He asks.

I look at him. “Darren…” I mutter.

“I can do it, Grey,” he says, “It’ll get more Doctor credits for us, and I can help you get other credits for the Market, too,”

I gently grab his shoulder, then his cheek. “I appreciate the offer, bud,” I say, “but…you’re only fourteen. You can’t get a career until you're eighteen, maybe an apprenticeship at sixteen,”

“Then, let me be your apprentice!” He says, “I can be a scout, and with you teaching me, I can help a lot!”

I sigh, and chuckle a little. “Ask me again in two years,” I say, “we’ll see,” I turn back to the soup.

He sighs.

“And, besides,” I say, “Sam will be choosing his career tomorrow. We’ll get more Doctor Credits from that,”

He nods. “Okay…” he mutters. He then looks out the window again. “What do you think he’ll choose?” He asks.

“Probably Porter,” I say, turning the stove down, placing the lid on the soup, and grabbing Mari, picking her up. “It’s what he’s used to,” I say.

He nods.

“Soup is ready, guys,” I call out, placing Mari in a chair at the table. I then go to the door. “Get it while it’s hot!” I called out.

“Food!” is the collective cheer from the children.

I laugh a little, stepping aside as they rush toward the door, but slow down as they come in.

Each of the kids take their shoes off when they step inside, placing them on a shelf by the door.

Sam gets to the door, and I see he was outside barefoot. He’s smiling a little, carrying Ozcar over his shoulder. 

Ozcar laughs. “Put me down, Sam!” He says, wriggling a little, “I wanna eat!”

“As you wish, little man,” Sam says, placing Ozcar on his feet.

I smile a little, and pat Ozcar’s head. “Having fun?” I ask.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a long while…” Sam says, nodding.

I smile, and nod toward the table. “Must be hungry,” I say.

“Starving,” Sam says, walking toward the table and sitting down.

I sit with him as Gram serves the soup.

“What do we all say?” She says to the children.

“Thank you, Gray!” They all call out.

I smile. “No problem, everyone,” I say, “now, eat up,”

Everyone nods, and starts to eat the soup.

“Oh, just as a reminder,” Gram says, “tomorrow is Haircut Day,”

There’s a chorus of both cheers and complaints from around the table, but Gram raises her hand, silencing them.

“You will all take showers or baths tonight, and wash your hair,” she says, looking toward some of the younger boys, “with soap,”

“Yea!” Mari says, “Don’t be stinky!”

Everyone laughs.

Gram looks at me. “This includes you, Gray,” she says, and looks at Sam, “You don’t have to be included if you don’t want to be, Sam,”

“Woah, wait a minute,” I say, “if I get a haircut, so does he,” I smirk, looking at Sam.

“Like hell I am,” Sam says, smirking as well.

“That’s five!” Ozcar calls out, pointing at him.

Sam looks at him. “Huh…?” He mutters.

I chuckle. “We have a ‘no swearing’ policy,” I say, “depending on how bad the word is, you do a certain amount of pushups. H-E-double hockey sticks is five pushups, because it’s not the worst of the words,”

Sam looks at me. “You’ve got to be kidding…” he mutters.

“I’m not,” I say, “because…the rule was made for me,”

He chuckles. “Ok…after dinner I’ll do them,” he says, looking at Ozcar.

“Good!” The little boy says.

I laugh, looking at Sam.

---

After dinner, I walk a bowl of broth and a glass of water up to Jayme’s room. I gently open the door, and step in. “Jayme, bud?” I say, softly, “It’s Grey,”

“Hmmmm…” he mutters.

I set the bowl and the glass down on the bedside table, and sit on the bed next to him. I check his temperature, and sigh. “Jesus…your fever is still high…” I mutter. I take out the medicine I had gotten today. “Here, Jayme, sit up…” I mutter.

He shakily sits up. He’s pale and looks so tired. He leans toward me, using me to help him sit up.

I take a tablet of the aspirin and help him take it. “Now some water, okay?” I mutter helping him drink.

He nods, swallowing. “Am I dying, Grey…?” He mutters, little voice shaking.

I sigh, holding him close. “No…” I say, “…you’re going to be fine…I’ll give you some more medicine in a bit, okay? Don’t want to give you too much all at once…”

He nods. “I’m scared, Grey…” he mutters, “…my tummy hurts…my knees and elbows hurt…I feel hot, but when I take a blanket off, I feel cold…I always feel like I’m gonna throw up…what’s wrong with me?”

“I think it’s just really bad flu, bud,” I say, “Sam’s going to be getting a career tomorrow, so I’ll take you to the doctor after that,”

He nods. “Can you…stay here?” He asks.

“Sure, bud,” I say, “I’ll grab a sleeping bag. I’ll be right back,”

He nods, and I gently lay him back down on the bed.

I exit the room, and nod at Sam as I go to my room.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“Just…grabbing a sleeping bag so I can stay in the room with Jayme…” I say, “…kid’s ass is getting kicked by the flu, I’m pretty sure,”

He points at me. “How many push ups is that?” He asks, smirking a little.

I chuckle. “The rule is for when we’re around the kids,” I say, “don’t want to be a bad influence,” I turn to my room, opening the door.

“Hey,” Sam says, “I think I know what career I’m going to pick,”

I look over my shoulder at him. “Really?” I ask.

He nods. “Scout,” he says, smiling a little. 

I smile back, nodding. “The help will definitely be welcome,” I say, “Goodnight, Sam,”

“Goodnight, Grey,” he says, going to his room.

I nod, entering my room, grabbing a sleeping bag, and going back to Jayme’s room for the night.

Chapter Text

“How short are we going this time, Gray?” Gram asks me, tousling my hair a little. She then chuckles softly.

“Uh…chin to ear length I think,” I say, “What are you laughing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, “just…starting to see some gray hairs…”

I chuckle a little. “Pretty soon I’ll look like Pops, huh?” I say.

She chuckles a little again. “Chin to ear, you said?” She confirms.

I give a thumbs up. “And…don’t be afraid to get a little creative,” I say, “The plain style has kinda…worn me down, in a way,”

“Got it,” she says, snipping at my hair.

I hold as still as I can as Gram cuts my hair, the locks of severed hair falling to my shoulders and at my feet.

Mari sits in a chair in front of me, holding both of my hands. I think it’s more to comfort herself than to comfort me, but I won't stop her.

I glance up at Sam, who’s watching. I smile a little, then stick my tongue out at him.

He laughs a little, rolling his eyes. “Been around these kids too much,” he says, “starting to act like one,”

“Starting to?” I say, “I’ve always been like this,”

He chuckles.

“And, done,” Gram says, “how’s it look?”

I stand up, and look in a mirror that she's moved from the bathroom to here. I smile a little, tousling my hair.

It’s short, but not too bad, and lies in a kind of fluffy way, parted down the middle.

“I like it,” I say, looking back at her.

She smiles. “Alright,” she says, snipping the scissors twice, “who’s next?”

Some of the kids take a step back.

I chuckle.

“I’ll do it, Gram,” Sam says, sitting down in the chair, “Just…not too much, okay?”

She nods, “I’ll just get the ends,” she says, starting to snip at his hair a little.

It takes a little while to get all of the kids to get haircuts, but after everyone is done, and showered or bathed to get the excess hair off, I’m making sandwiches for everyone, and handing them out.

“I was thinking,” I say, sitting down, “since I’m home now, we could all use a bit of a break,”

The kids look at me, and look at each other, muttering.

Sam looks at me, confused.

“So…let’s take a little trip today,” I say, looking at Gram.

She smiles softly. “Where were you thinking, Gray?” She asks.

I shrug. “Why not…the Grotto?” I say, and there are collective gasps from the children.

“The Grotto?!” Mari cheers.

I smile, and nod. “If that sounds good to you guys,” I say, “after lunch, get changed, grab whatever you want to bring. I’ll pack snacks and water, and we’ll all go down to the Grotto for the rest of the day?”

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Gram says, “I’ll stay with the infants and, if Jayme isn’t feeling well enough to go, I’ll stay with him,”

I nod, looking at Jayme.

He still looks pale, but somewhat better than last night. He scrunches his eyebrows. “I…I’ll stay here,” he says, “I still feel…weird. Not as bad as yesterday, but…not normal,”

I nod a little. I then look at Sam. “It’s your choice whether or no you want Lou coming with us,” I say, “You are her guardian,”

He nods. “What is the Grotto?” He asks.

“Naturally occurring springs of water,” I say, feeding Asa, a two year old boy with pale hair and pale skin, in the high chair in front of me, “both hot and cold. Most are sealed off, so people don’t contaminate one of our water sources, but others are left for people to just kinda…escape? Like a public pool or something. There’s picnic tables, places for kids to play, the whole shebang. Best thing about it? No entrance fee for poor folks like us,”

He chuckles. “Ok…sounds like fun,” he says. He’s currently holding Lou, feeding her a bottle. He looks down at her, and smiles softly. “I think I’ll bring her with us,” he says, “what do you say, Lou? Ready to go on a little adventure?”

Lou coos a little as she continues to drink from the bottle.

I chuckle. “I’ll lend you some trunks, if you need,” I say.

He looks a little confused. “What?” He says.

“If you want to go swimming,” I say, slowly, like I’m explaining to a child, “I’m definitely going swimming. I need to relax a little…” I chuckle softly.

He nods.

After we finish our lunches, I go upstairs to get changed.

I have a pair of swim trunks, a tight fitting, sleeveless shirt, and a pair of boots that are easy to take off, with no socks. I grab a pair of spare swim trunks, and go across the hall to Sam’s room. “Think fast, Bridges,” I say, chucking the shorts at him.

He yelps a little, fumbling and catching the shorts. He falls onto his bed, and looks at me, kind of astonished. “Little more warning next time!” He laughs.

I smile and laugh slightly. “I’ll be down in the kitchen getting snacks if you need me,” I say, starting down the hall.

---

After packing all of the water bottles, snacks, and other things we may need for our little outing, I’m waiting in our front courtyard for the rest of the kids.

Sam stands next to me, holding Lou.

Lou is in a little romper and sun hat that Gram must have found from when one of the older girls were a baby. She’s looking around happily.

Sam is wearing his sleeveless shirt and the trunks I gave him, and his boots with no socks.

The kids start to file out of the house, all in swimsuits or other play clothes, all carrying towels.

I smile, watching Emili and Mari walking hand in hand, Darren roughhousing with the other boys a little. I chuckle, and nudge Sam. “Watch this…” I say, turning my back on the children.

“Wha…?” I hear Sam mutter.

I stand at attention, like a soldier, arms at my sides, the day-bag slung across my back. “DUCKLING FORMATION!” I call, like a captain rallying his troops.

I hear giggles and feet scurry behind me, and Mari steps in front of me, standing on my feet.

I smile, and look down at her, holding her hands. “Thank you, children, Mother Goose is ready to go,” I say, followed by more giggles, “and…waddle!” I start to walk forward without bending my knees, walking with Mari, almost like a duck waddling.

The kids behind me laugh, and I hear some humming a tune as we waddle.

I laugh, and after a bit, I default to regular walking. I look at Sam, who’s walking next to me.

He’s smiling a little. “A’ight, Mother Goose…” He mutters.

I smile wide at him. 

We make our way through the main area of Haven, passing people as we go.

Some vendors in market stalls or storefronts and other people doing their Daily Tasks call out to us, waving.

As we pass the Main Building, I see Stu exiting his office.

He smiles and waves, tapping his forehead.

“It’s Stu!” Mari cheers, waving happily, “Hiya, Stu!”

“Hi, Mari!” He calls back, walking up to us, “How’s it, Grey?”

“Not bad,” I say, “Taking the kids to the Grotto for the day,”

“Is that where the Duckling Express is going?” He says, an air of jest about the comment. His one eye skates over the trail of kids following behind me.

I nod. “Oh, I think you should know now, we’ll have a new Scout in…five days?” I say, smiling a little. I look at Sam.

He chuckles a little.

Stu smiles wide. “Fantastic!” He says, “we definitely could use the help,” He pats Sam’s shoulder, who shrinks away a little. Stu looks a little confused, but doesn’t comment. “Well, I’ll let you all get to your day of fun,” he says, “see you later, Gray,” he gives a small salute, and continues on the way he was going.

I nod, and continue toward the edge of the city. “The entrance to the Grotto is this way,” I say.

It doesn’t take us much longer to get to the Grotto, and I lead the group to a picnic table.

“Ok,” I say, setting the bag on the table, and standing on the bench so the kids can see me, “ground rules refresher: buddies are mandatory, stick with your buddy if you go into the water. If you are under the age of ten, no further than two feet away from the edge of whatever pool you’re going into at any time. If you’re over the age of twelve, keep an eye on anyone younger than you, and please, please, please do not go off on your own without telling me. Should you come out of the water to eat, towels stay on at all times, and you wait a minimum of thirty minutes before going back into the water. If anything should go wrong, scream as loud as you can, and Sam or I will come running. Doesn’t matter what you scream: ‘Gray’, ‘Sam’, ‘fire’, ‘help’, ‘shark’, just ‘AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!’” The kids giggle at my screaming, “these caves will echo the scream, and I will hear you. Do we all understand?”

All the kids nod, say some kind of affirmative, or give thumbs up.

“Alright, have fun, be safe!” I say, waving them toward the large pools of water. I sat down at the bench.

“Thought you said, you’d be swimming,” Sam says, sitting on the bench opposite to me at the table.

I shrug a little. “I'll let the kids have their fun first,” I say, “I’d honestly rather keep an eye on them first. You can go in if you want,”

He shakes his head a little. “I’ll sit out here with you, if it’s all the same to you,” he says, softly. He’s holding Lou up, sitting on his thigh, so she can see the other kids.

She’s watching the children play with wide eyes, one hand balled up near her mouth.

I smile a little.

“Well, well!” a woman’s voice says from behind me, “Graeson Monaghan, back from his adventures of the outside world,”

I turn and see a woman, scarcely younger than me, sitting at a table next to ours.

She has an infant on her hip, and two other kids are playing nearby. She’s what most would call conventionally beautiful, I suppose, with lighter hair tied up in a braided ponytail, a chambray shirt over her bathing suit.

“Hi, Helena,” I say, smiling politely, “How’ve you been?”

“As well as any of us can be here,” she says, tilting her head a little, “this your rest week?”

I nod. “Just…using it to spend some time with the kids,” I say, looking out toward the pool. “Oli!” I call out to the young boy, “You know the rule! No splashing!” I sigh.

Helena chuckles a little. “I have my hands full with these three…” she says, “…I couldn’t imagine being one parent to so many!”

“I’ve got Gram,” I say, shrugging, “and now Sam, as well…” I nod toward him.

She leans forward to look at Sam, and I see her eyes scan up and down. “Have you…thought of my invitation?” She asks, her eyes returning to me.

I pause, starting to feel myself flush. “Remind me?” I say, politely.

She chuckles a little. “Dinner,” she says, “My house. I’ll cook. I’m sure you could use a break from the kids…”

“I get breaks from the kids,” I say, “on my Trips. And I miss all of them, dearly, while I’m gone,”

She sighs. “You need to have a life, Grey,” she says.

“I have a life, Helen,” I say, looking at her, “These kids are my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re a nice woman, I don’t deny that. A great mother. And I’m sorry for your loss, Peter was a good man, but…I’m going to have to politely decline,”

She sighs. “You’ve got every woman of proper age in Haven pining after you, you know,” she states, “myself included. You’re handsome, polite, a gentleman, good with kids, tough as nails…perfect combo for the world, how it is…you gotta have a partner at some point, Gray, you can’t just keep going it alone…” she stands and walks to a different table.

I sigh, and place my hands over my face. “Fuck…” I mutter. I run my hands down my face, and sigh heavily again. I take my boots off, and stand up.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks.

“For a swim…” I mutter, gritting my teeth a little, walking toward one of the larger pools. I speed up a little as I draw closer to the edge of the pool, and dive into the cool, clear, water. I swim up and surface, taking deep breaths. I turn myself in the water, and float on my back, staring up at the cave ceiling. After a bit, I start to swim laps around the pool, seeing Sam at one edge of it, standing, watching me. I swim up to him, and put my arms on the edge of the pool, sputtering a little, running my hand over my face, then my hair. “Hi…” I mutter.

“What the hell was that about?” He asks, glancing over at the pool where the kids are, keeping an eye on them. He sits down, putting his feet into the water, holding Lou on his lap.

I sigh. “I’ve told her ‘no’ about…ten times now?” I mutter, pulling myself out of the pool, sitting on the stone, my feet still in the water. “She’s a sweet woman,” I say, “but…I don’t really see myself…with her, you know? And, on top of that, her husband died not even five months ago! It feels disrespectful to Paul…” I sigh softly.

He nods a little. “You knew him?” He asks.

“Haven is a small, close-knit place,” I say, shrugging a little, “after a while, you’re kinda…aware of everyone. But…yeah, I knew him. Basically grew up with him. We were both from Middle Knot, left before it was destroyed,”

He looks at me, shocked. “You…you’re from Middle Knot?” He asks, “the city Higgs nuked?”

I sigh, and nod. “I, uh…” I tilt my head a little, “…Nah, you’re gonna think I’m crazy…”

He chuckles a little. “How ‘bout this:” he says, “I tell you something crazy ‘bout me, if you tell me,”

I look at him, and raise an eyebrow. “Ok,” I say, “you first,”

He chuckles a little, then clears his throat. “I…I can’t die,” he says, “I mean…I can, but…it doesn’t last long. I’m a repatriate, and I’ve survived more than one Void Out that way,”

I stare at him for a minute, and my eyes skate over the handprints on his arms. I nod a little. I clear my throat a little, looking out over the pool. “I had a dream about Higgs destroying Middle Knot before it even happened,” I say, “it’s…it’s how I knew to leave. It took me a good while to actually convince Gram to leave Middle, especially because we had kids to bring with us,” I look over at the children.

Sam looks over as well.

“Most of them were from Middle as well,” I say, “Darren and Nahla, most of the under twelve kids. The infants, Ozcar, Jayden, Mari and Olyver are more recent additions,”

He nods. “But…you dreamt of that day?” He asks, looking at me, “like…you dreamt of him blowing it up?”

I take a deep breath, and nod a little. “Yeah…” I mutter, “…I just…got flashes of stuff, like the city, him, a mushroom cloud, a lake of tar. It was the feeling it left afterward that really prompted me to tell Gram and Pops. It just felt so…real,” I take a deep breath. “I…I don’t know how to explain it,” I mutter.

He nods a little.

I look over at him, and look at Lou.

She’s looking down at the water, bioluminescent plants reflecting in her eyes.

I smile softly. “Want to take her over to one of the more shallow pools?” I ask, gesturing to Lou.

He looks a little unsure. “I, uh…” he mutters.

“We’ll both go with her,” I say, “she’ll be safe,”

He takes a deep breath, and nods. “Okay,” he says, holding her close to his chest as he scoots back, away from this pool, turns himself, and stands up.

I stand up, and grab my towel from the table before following him to the smaller, shallower pools. “Test the water before you go in,” I warn him, “some of them are a lot warmer than they look,” 

He nods, putting a foot into the water. He nods a little. “Warm,” he says, “I don’t want her getting cold, so…” he tilts his head.

I nod, and I lay my towel on the edge of the pool, sitting down on it. I put my feet into the water of the pool, which is warm, like a bathtub.

“Gray!” Mari says, running up to me.

“No running!” I say, turning to the little girl, “You’re gonna slip, Mari,”

She slows down, and carefully walks up to me. She sits on the edge by me, and dips her feet in the water. She hugs my arm. She has a towel around her shoulders, and her hair is damp. Her hands and face are warm, compared to the chill I’ve taken on from the water and the atmosphere of the cave. She yawns slightly.

I smile. “Getting tired?” I ask.

She shakes her head, but yawns again.

I chuckle, and can hear an infant giggling. I look over at Sam and Lou.

Sam is cradling Lou in his arms, her facing him. He’s sitting on the bottom of the pool, and has her partially submerged in the water.

Lou is splashing the water a little, a wide smile on her face as she looks around.

Sam is smiling at her as well, just watching her. He looks so amazed by her, and I can swear he’s tearing up.

I smile softly, a faint ache in my chest. ‘Nothing more beautiful than a father being awestruck by his kid…’ I think.

“Mari,” Nahla says, walking up to us, “I have your snack at the table,”

I look up. “Nahla, I was supposed to do that…” I say, starting to stand up.

“I’ve got it, Grey,” she says, “enjoy yourself, okay?”

I sigh softly, and nod a little. I look back at Sam, and I smile softly, leaning back, propping myself up with my hands.

---

(Five days later)

Sam and I walk to the Main Hall of Haven.

“So…we register me for a career,” Sam says, “and then I’ll go with you on scouting, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I say, “and, you’ll be an officially registered citizen of Haven,”

He nods a little.

We enter the large, round hall, and I walk up to one of the desks.

“Morning, Barb,” I say to the elderly lady behind the desk, touching my forehead,

She returns the gesture. “Good morning, Graeson,” she says, “how may I help you today?”

“We’re here to register for a Career today,” I say, nodding to Sam behind me.

She nods, looking at Sam. She goes into one of the folders on her desk, grabs a small stack of papers, and hands it to him. “Fill this out,” she says, gesturing to a cup of pens, “bring it back when you’re done,”

He nods a little. He grabs a pen, and looks around.

I point toward a place where there are places mounted to the wall for people to fill out paperwork.

He nods, and goes toward one. He places the paper on the desk, and uncaps the pen.

I follow him and turn the light above him on. “If you have any questions,” I say, leaning against the wall next to him, “Just let me know,”

He nods a little. “Ok…” he mutters under his breath, “…what do I put for a surname? I just…use ‘Porter Bridges’, usually…but it’s technically Strand…but also, I could use Unger if I wanted to…” he takes a deep breath.

I tap my foot a little, but not impatiently.

He sighs. “How about this…” he mutters, “…there…uh, ‘next of kin’…” he looks at me, “…for like…emergency reasons or something?”

I nod. “You can put Gram, if you’d like,” I say, “Baely Leblanc. You know our address…”

He nods, and the pen scratching commences. There’s then a pause. “I guess that counts as a medical condition…” he mutters, continuing writing.

Out of curiosity, I glance over at his paper, and see that in the section asking about DOOMS, he’s written “Level 2”.

He glances at me, and shuffles so he’s in my way. “Hey, no cheating,” he says, a joking tone to his voice.

I laugh a little. “Sorry,” I say, looking away.

He laughs as well, and goes back to writing on the paper. “Ok,” he says, after a bit longer, “I’m done,”

I nod, and stand up straight as he takes the paper back up to Barb’s desk.

She accepts the paperwork back, and looks at it, adjusting her glasses on her nose. She smiles a little. “Ah!” She says, “you want to be a Scout, huh?” She looks at him.

He nods a little.

She smiles, glancing at me. “Well…” she says, taking out a smaller paper, scribbling some things on the lines, stamping it, and placing Sam’s form in an empty file, then handing everything back to him, “Welcome to Haven’s Workforce. Hand the pass and the file to Stuart Lingham, in the Atlas Building, and he’ll finish the registration,”

He nods, taking the paperwork back, and looking at me.

I smile, patting his shoulder. “Come on,” I say, walking toward Stu’s office.

When we arrive at the building, Stu is just leaving his office.

He looks up at us, and a wide smile spreads across his face. “New Scout?” He asks, walking toward Sam.

Sam nods, handing the papers to Stu.

Stu nods, putting his reading glass over his good eye, looking over the papers. He pauses. “DOOMS?” He asks, looking at Sam.

He nods. “I can…sense BTs, but I can’t see them,” he says, “it’s not a high level…”

Stu nods a little. “Remind me, Grey…” he says, looking at me, “…what level are you?”

Sam also looks at me, somewhat astonished.

I clear my throat softly. “Uh…four?” I say, “I can…kinda see them. Or, like…reverse-psychology kind of see them,”

Sam furrows his eyebrows.

I clear my throat again, shuffling my feet. “I, er…” I mutter, then take a deep breath, speaking louder, “…I can’t see color. Everything is grayscale to me. I can tell if it’s a light or a dark color, or if it’s shiny or dull, or things like that, but…” I tilt my head.

He pauses. “That…that’s why you stared at your pen when I asked you before…” he says, “you…you don’t know what colors are like?”

“Well, not exactly,” I say, “when there’s high levels of chairealium in an area, that’s when I see colors. It’s kinda my early warning system to high-tail it to some cover, because either Time Fall or BTs are close by,”

He nods a little bit. “So…you could see color when we first met?” He asks, “and…how can you ‘kinda’ see BTs?”

“Yes,” I say, “and, it’s because I can see the chirealium in the air. Like…when it’s dense or whatever? Everything except the actual BT is visible to me, so…I can kinda see them, or at least where they’re supposed to be? Like, the negative space or whatever,”

He nods a little. “And…what color is chirealium?” He asks, “just…like…gold, or something?”

I shake my head. “Indigo, actually,” I say, “though, I can still see the gold of regular Chiral crystals, for some fucking reason,” I shrug.

Stu chuckles. “Right, well,” he says, “let’s get you set up before you two head out,” he leads us back to his office.

Sam and I follow.

Stu’s office isn’t the cleanest, but it’s also not too messy either. Just a small space with a lot of stuff in it.

He puts Sam’s file in a slot of a shelf with the six other Scouts’ information, mine included. He then goes into a box, and takes out a bundle of things. “Alright,” he says, laying out a few things on his desk.

There’s a bracelet made of thin chords with seven beads on it. One side of the beads is dull, the other is shiny.

There’s also a folded up paper, which I know is a smaller, base copy of the Atlas.

There’s also a silver pin with the symbol for Scouts on it: an eye-like symbol in front of a geometric looking wing. In the pupil of the eye is a compass rose.

It’s attached to a sleek, black knife multi-tool.

There are also seven chips, similar to our credits, but they have the symbol for Doctors on it: two snakes coiled around a hand reaching to the sky, the snake’s tails joined to each other.

“So, this is your Day Counter,” he explains to Sam, holding the bracelet up, “helps you keep track of how long you’re out there. They stay on the black side, for now. When you spend a day out in the Wastelands, you flip one bead to the gold side. Once all seven beads are flipped, you should be making your way back to Haven. When you’re back after a Trip, you flip them all back to black. You get seven days out there, seven days of rest, got it?”

Sam nods, taking the bracelet.

“This is your Map,” Stu says, handing Sam the paper, “You already know how that works. We’ll go to the Atlas and update it after this, and get you your pack as well,”

Sam nods, taking the paper.

“This pin goes on your coat, to show others what your Career is,” Stu says, holding up the pin and the knife, “the Multi-tool is a bit of equipment that we give to each Scout, to help him or her out in the Wastelands,”

Sam nods, taking the knife.

“And these are your Doctor Chips,” Stu says, “you only get seven. They’re used to buy an appointment with a doctor here in Center. Once you use them up, that’s it. Unless you apply for a new Career, you don’t get any more. There are some other circumstances that you can apply to get more Doctor Chips, but…” he tilts his head, and puts the chips in a small pouch for Sam.

Sam nods, taking the pouch.

“Any questions so far?” Stu says.

Sam looks at me. He looks back at Stu. “I’ll be leaving today with Grey?” He asks.

Stu nods. “For training,” he says, “first few trips you’ll be with an experienced Scout. After that, you’ll go out on your own,” he stands up, sighing heavily. “Let’s go to the Atlas, get you the rest of your gear,” he says, passing us, patting us both on the shoulders.

Sam turns, watching him. He looks at me, and then looks down at the knife in his hand.

I smile a little, patting his shoulder. I then follow Stu to the Atlas.

“What color do you want, Sam?” Stu asks, going to a shelf and taking out a box of markers and pens.

Sam thinks for a moment. “What’s the hardest color for Grey to see?” He asks.

I look at him, and sigh.

He laughs a little. “I’m kidding, Grey,” he says, “what color isn’t taken?”

Stu looks into the box. “Orange, yellow, pink, gray and black,” he says.

Sam looks at me. “You didn’t take gray?” He asks.

“Look, all of them look gray to me!” I say, throwing my hands in the air, “I just took the nicest looking gray I saw!”

Stu laughs. He holds the box out to Sam. “What’s it gonna be, Bridges?” He asks.

Sam looks into the box, pauses, and grabs the black marker. “Make it easy for Gray,” he mutters, “just…black,” he looks at me.

I nod a little, an odd kind of flutter in my ribcage. I clear my throat a little, and cross my arms.

Stu nods, and gives him the other writing implements of that color. “Write your name on a cup and put the things in it,” he says, gesturing to the table.

Sam nods, and walks to where my cup is. He grabs the cup next to mine, and writes his name on it. He puts the pen, marker, and pencil in the cup.

“Take the pencil,” I say, taking the pencil from my own cup, and putting it in a pocket of my coat, “you’ll return it when we get back,”

Sam nods a little.

Stu walks over with a sleek looking backpack.

It is a black colored fabric, and is shaped in a way that it’s supposed to be worn crossbody. In fact, it’s a much newer looking version of my own backpack.

Sam looks at it. He takes it, and opens a zipper, looking in.

“Water canteen,” Stu says, “trail food. Basic survival and first aid things. Grey will show you locations of Safe Houses on your travels, which have more advanced supplies,”

Sam nods a little. He puts the bag on, and pins the pin on his coat. He puts the multi tool’s case on his belt. He looks at me, and tilts his head a little. “When do I get a knife like his?” He asks, pointing to me.

“When you buy or find one,” I say, placing a hand on my knife, “I found this one, second trip out,”

Sam nods a little.

“So, where are you two going on this trip?” Stu asks us.

I look at Sam. “I think Rookie should pick,” I say, gesturing to the map.

“Rookie?” Sam says, offended, looking at me.

“In this sense, yeah,” I say, patting his shoulder, “Have a look at the map. There are four looping paths that are marked out and labeled. Those are the basic routes that us Scouts follow. Choose one,”

He nods a little, and steps up to the table. He walks around it, looking at it. After a bit, he stops, and taps the paper. “This one,” he says, “Western Loop. It goes along the foothills of the mountain and then loops out into the plains, next to the river,”

I nod a little. I take in the things indicated on that path: Mules, a prepper base, some areas of heavy BT activity.

Sam takes out his Map, and starts to copy down all of the things on the Atlas.

I followed suit, checking that there weren't any changes in the days between today and when I came back a week ago.

After we’re both done, I put my map away, and look at Sam. “Ready?” I ask him.

He adjusts his bag, and ties his hair back. He nods.

I smile a little and nod as well. “Well…see you in a week, Stu,” I say, tapping my forehead, then tapping the old man’s.

He chuckles. “Be safe out there, boys,” he calls after us as I lead Sam out of the building.

Chapter Text

    I peer over an outcropping of rock, looking at the MULE camp. I sigh.

    "Grey..." Sam says, tapping my shoulder, "...the truck," He points to the large truck sitting just outside the camp.

    I look at it. I look at him again. "What about it?" I ask.

    "It's unmanned," he says, "no one's watching it,"

    "We're not stealing from MULEs," I say, "what they have is shit, usually, anyway. We need to get around them so we can keep going,"

    He sighs, but nods a little.

    I look around, and gently nudge him toward the right side of the camp. "Give a wide berth," I mutter to him, "we don't have tagged packages, so they can't scan us, but they'd still be interested in what we got,"

    He nods a little, staying in a crouched position as we carefully circumvent the camp.

    I carefully take the lead, and start further into the brush. I look over my shoulder, and gesture for Sam to follow.

    He nods, glancing back at the camp so we're not seen or followed.

    When I know we're far enough away, I stand up, and stretch my back a little. "Whew..." I mutter, "...man, crouching like that really kills my back..."

    Sam chuckles softly. "Where are we headed?" He asks.

    "First scavenging spot," I say, taking out my map, "at least, the first one that hasn't been completely picked clean and demolished for materials,"

    Sam nods a little, looking over my shoulder at my map.

    I glance at him. I clear my throat a little. "It's yellow, by the way," I say.

    He looks at me, oddly. "Huh?" He asks.

    "That's the hardest color for me to see," I say, "yellow. It just looks...white, or just really light? But I'm told, all the time, I'm wrong,"

    He nods a little. He then looks up. "Is that the place?" He asks, pointing forward.

    I look up, and see a house half buried in the trees. "That's the place," I say, putting the map away, "keep your gloves on and your mask up, okay? We don't know what could be growing there or how dangerous the rubble could be,"

    He nods, making sure his gloves are on properly, and pulling his respirator up.

    I do the same, and carefully duck through a window in the front that has been smashed. I offer a hand to Sam, who ignores it, just stepping past me. I nod a little, then clear my throat. "Take anything that isn't broken too bad or still looks usable," I say to him, "Medicines and foods are iffy, but I'm not sure if we'll be able to find too many here,"

    He nods a little, and turns on the light clipped to the strap of his backpack.

    I follow suit, and we both start wandering through the rubble of the house.

    I've been here a few times before, and each time it just gets crappier and crappier.

    I pick my way through the rubble of what I assume used to be the living and dining room.

    After picking through overturned chairs, shattered glass, and overgrown houseplants, I find a few things: an old scarf that's in good shape, a box of matches that still look good, a crocheted shawl that is only fraying a little, and two unbroken, unchipped martini glasses.

    After carefully wrapping the glasses in the scarf and the shawl, and packing everything into my bag, I pause, hearing creaking up the stairs, though also almost like the entire building is creaking. I look to see Sam carefully making his way up the stairs.

    "Woah, woah, Sam," I say, quickly going to the bottom of the stairs and holding a hand up to stop him, "stop. The floor up there is extremely unstable. If you go up there, you're probably going to fall through, and that's not going to be fun for anyone,"

    He furrowed his eyebrows, and looked up, then looked at me. He sighs, and makes his way down. "Alright..." he mutters.

    I nod. "Find anything good?" I ask.

    He nods. "Stockings, a bracelet, some cans of fruit and soup, and a plush dinosaur," he says, "one of the kids may like it,"

    I nod a little. I then pause, the creaking from the stairs and the rest of the building continuing. I look up as small amounts of dust and rubble fall from the ceiling. "Shit..." I hissed.

    "What the...?" Sam mutters, holding his hand out to catch the dust.

    We both jump as a loud creaking then snapping noise suddenly shakes everything in the house.

    "Come on!" I say, grabbing onto Sam's arm and towing him to our exit as the house shakes, the roof in the kitchen caving it.

    We race out of the house, scramble through the broken window, and take cover in some brush and boulders nearby.

    The house creaks and groans under its own weight, twisting like a house of cards. With a great resounding crash, it collapses to the ground, sending out a plume of dust, dirt, and leaves.

    Sam and I watch in stunned silence, then slowly look at each other. 

    I snort a little, then start to laugh. More in relief than anything else.

    Sam chuckles a little, and also starts to laugh. "Holy shit..." he manages.

    I wipe my eyes a little, taking deep breaths. "That...that was terrifying," I say, pulling my mask down, then pat Sam's shoulder, "but, at least we can scratch this one off the list..." I take my map out, and  find the house on the map. I cross it out, and mark "FD" next to it.

    "What are you doing?" Sam asks.

    I showed him my map. "Marking on the map that the house fell," I say, pointing to it, "see? 'FD', 'Fell Down'. You should do the same on your map,"

    He nods, taking his map out. He crosses the house off of the map, and marks it the same way I did. "Like that?" He asks.

    I nod. "Though, you don't have to keep it as 'FD', that's just how I learned how to mark it," I say, "you'll figure out your own code,"

    He nods, and looks at my map. "I don't have that on my map..." he says, pointing to a marker near the river, "it wasn't on the Atlas,"

    I quickly put my map away. I clear my throat and stand up. "It's uh...something personal," I mutter. I pause. "Though...we're coming up on it soon..." I mutter, starting to pick through the boulders, looking for a stone of proper shape and size.

    "What is it?" Sam asks, "What are you looking for?"

    "A stone," I say, grabbing one that is roughly the size of my hand, "just...follow me, and I'll explain in a bit,"

    He furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded.

    I nod back, and start down the path again.

    It winds through more boulders and vegetation, and ends up going along the bank of a river. Further down the river, on the side of the path opposite the river, a large pile of rocks stands in the grass.

    Some of the stones on top look weathered, and others nearer to the bottom have started to grow moss. There are also some items, like trinkets or little ornaments, tucked into the stones.

    I take a deep breath, lowering my hood as I approach the marker. I take the stone out and set it in a nook in the rocks. I then pat the big, flat stone propped up in the front, a name carved into it.

Sylas Leblanc

Aged 75

Father, husband, mentor, missed.

    I take a knee in front of the marker. "Hiya, Pops," I mutter, "looks like you've been getting more visits...that's good. Gram and the kids have been good...Darren is almost old enough to pick a career, if you'd believe it. Same with Nahla, and I think I already know what careers the both of them will pick," I glance over at Sam, who's standing a respectful distance away, "We've got some new additions: Sam and his kid, Louise," I say, looking back at the stone, "I'm sure you'd like them if you met them...I hope you're resting easy, with all the books you could read and all the beer you could drink..." I smile a little, and stand up, sniffing. I wipe my eyes, then pat the stone again. "Miss you, old fart..." I mutter, chuckling sadly. I put my hands in my pockets, and approached Sam.

    He furrowed his eyebrows.

    "It's called a cairn," I say, before he can ask anything, "a grave marker made from piling stones. This is the final resting place of Gram's husband, who we called Pops. Buried under the pile is half of his ashes after he was burnt. Gram has the other half. Me and other Scouts leave things for him whenever we pass it, as a sign of respect..."

    Sam nods a little, and pauses. He goes into his bag, and takes out a small, beaded bracelet. "Found this in the house..." he mutters, "...will this work?"

    I smile a little, and nod. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it," I mutter.

    He nods, and steps past me, approaching the cairn. He finds a place and gently sets the bracelet on one of the stones. "It's a nice place to rest..." he mutters, looking around, "...good view..."

    I smile a little, nodding. I follow him, and pat his shoulder. "There's one more scavenge spot, then the safe house isn't too much further," I say, "we should get there before3 nightfall,"

    He nods, following me down the road.

---

    The setting sun to our backs, I enter a small covered path between two large rock formations.

    "Where are we going?" Sam asks, behind me, "you said there was a safe house,"

    I nod. "They're hidden, so no one else but us can find them," I say, pushing aside a curtain of moss, revealing a green, metal door.

    Sam raises his eyebrows, obviously impressed. He smiles a little. "Sick..." he mutters.

    I chuckle, and punch in the code for the door. "The codes are all pretty easy," I say, "just gotta remember which direction loop you're on. For here, and the next three, it's 7-6-8-8-4. S-o-u-t-h," I look at him as the door unlocks, and open the door for him.

    He nods. "Might take me a bit to remember that..." he mutters, stepping into the hidden building.

    "I thought the same thing when I started," I say, following him, closing and locking the door behind us, "but, I got it eventually,"

    He nods, looking around the mud room area.

    I take my boots off, put them on a shelf, and then take my bag and coat off. "We keep our stuff here," I say, "like...our outside stuff. Keeps the inside clean,"

    He nods, taking his things off as well.

    I pat his shoulder, and then back toward the door to the rest of the area. "Welcome to South Loop Safe House One," I say, opening the door to the main area.

    It's like a small bunker, almost: kitchenette and food shelf in the back left corner, table in the center, and shelves of other supplies in the back right corner. To the left is a doorway with a sliding door, and to the right is a doorway with a green curtain.

    I flick a switch to turn on the lights. "To the left is the showers and bathroom," I say, "here is the common area and kitchen, and to the right is the beds. I'll start the food if you want to take the first shower,"

    He nods a little. "Gonna make soup again?" He asks.

    "Unless you want ground mystery meat and beans," I say, going to the shelf of cans of food. I look at him as I reach for a can just labeled "Meat".

    He laughs a little. "That's not ominous at all," he says, "yeah, sure, meat and beans,"

    I nod, grabbing two cans of each. "If you need help with the shower, just ask," I say, taking the cans to the stove, and starting it.

    "Got it," he says.    

---

    Sam and I sit across from each other at the table, finishing up our dinner.

    "So...Pops," Sam says hesitantly.

    I look at him.

    He clears his throat softly. "Was he...did he..." he mutters, then sighs, and clears his throat again.

    I sigh. "He taught me how to Scout," I say, "kinda like how I'm training you. I was a Caretaker first. Then, when we needed more supplies and Doctor Tokens, I decided to apply for a second Career, and became a Scout. On my...third trip out, I think, we were at that river bend. We..." I take a deep breath, then clear my throat. "We were ambushed," I mutter, "By MULEs, thinking we were Porters. I was knocked flat on my ass and...I watched them..." I clench my teeth. I close my eyes, thinking of that trip. I grip my fork, wincing a little as the memory of the gunshot rings in my ears. I take a deep breath. I wipe my eyes. "I had to take his body home," I say, "but I didn't get very far. I met up with another Scout on the road, and...we burnt his body out here. I took the jar of ashes home to Gram, and..." I tilt my head. 

    He nods a little. "I'm sorry..." he mutters.

    "Not your fault," I say, stiffly, "no reason for you to be sorry,"

    "I can still feel bad for you..." he says.

    I sigh, nodding a little.

    After we finish and clean up the dining area, we both go into the sleeping area.

    There are four simple beds with thin mattresses, a blanket and a quilt.

    I sit on one and start taking off my tokens. I run my hands through my hair, and take a deep breath. I stand up, take my belt off, and take my pants off.

    "You don't sleep with pants?" Sam asks.

    "Never trust someone who sleeps in pants," I say, looking at him.

    He raises an eyebrow. "The fuck you mean?" He laughs, "I sleep in pants! Means you need to do less when you wake up the next morning..."

    I laugh a little. "Ok, point taken," I say, "I just find it more comfortable to just be in my boxers and shirt,"

    He laughs slightly, and sits on the bed next to the one I'm in.

    I sit back on my bed. "Time to flip the first bead," I say, reminding Sam.

    "Oh, yeah," he says, looking at his own bracelet. "Which end do I start from?" He asks, looking at me.

    "Whichever you want," I say, flipping the rightmost one on my bracelet from the shiny side to the dull. I then lay down, grabbing the pillow and bunching it up until I'm comfortable, and take a deep breath as I close my eyes.

---

    My eyes flutter open, and I take a breath, confused.

    Gray mumbles something.

    'His voice woke me,' I realize. I turn my head to look at him, and see he's curled up in the fetal position.

    Both of his blankets are on the ground, and his pillow is by his feet.

    His hands are clutching his head, bunches of hair between his fingers. "N-no...please...please, don't go..." he whimpers, then yelps, "w-wait! Please!"

    I quickly get out of bed and go over to him. I grab his shoulders and start to turn him. "Gray!" I say, shaking him, "Gray, wake up!"

    He yelps, his arms flying forward again, his eyes snapping open. His bright blue eyes scan around in panic, then land on me, pitch black tears filling them. His pupils return to their normal size as he breathes heavily. He raises a hand to his head. "Fuck..." he mutters, his voice shaking.

    "Another nightmare?" I ask.

    He nods a little, starting to wipe the tar-like tears. He gets up, shaking, and he starts across the safe-house to the bathroom.

    I follow him, worry gripping at my chest. 'What's got him so scared?' I wonder, 'Higgs is gone...can't be him...' I lean against the wall in the bathroom, watching him wash his face. "How bad was it?" I ask.

    He takes a deep breath, gripping at the sink. "Look, Sam..." he mutters, "...I know you just want to help, but...I don't want to talk about it..."

    I sigh, switching my stance a little. "Gray," I say, "we're supposed to work together. If your dreams see, like...bad things coming, or whatever..." I shrug a little.

    He sighs, and looks at me. He looks terrified, and tired. "I...I saw Higgs..." he mutters, "...like always, but...he spoke to me, this time. Something about...us, being separated, and...he walked away saying 'see you soon'. Like...like he was actually talking to me, like he knew I could hear him. We...we were on the Beach,"

    I raise my eyebrows a little. "The Beach..." I mutter.

    He nods. He takes a deep breath, and looks up at a clock on the wall of the bathroom. "We should get going...sun's about to come up," he mutters, "I'll get some coffee and breakfast, then we'll leave,"

    I nod, watching him exit the bathroom.

Chapter Text

(Three days later)

"Try not to make this one collapse this time," I say to Sam, jokingly, as I step through the doorway of an abandoned building.

    He laughs a little. "That'd be just our luck, huh?" He says. 

    I chuckle softly, and start down the hall, to the door of an apartment. I try to open it, but it won't budge. I furrow my eyebrows, and grab the handle. I force my shoulder into it, trying to knock it down.

    It creaks, but doesn't move.

    I sigh, and take a step back. I glance at Sam, who's watching with curiosity. I look at the door again, and with a swift kick above the handle, the door falls down.

    The silence after is deafening.

    A chill crawls up my spine.

    An acrid smell leaks out of the apartment in front of me, making me gag a little.

    I raise my mask, and freeze as I realize I can see the color of the carpet in front of me. 

The hair raises on my arms as my ears start to ring.

    The BT leaves the room, drawing closer to me. Handprints, inky black marks, appear on the door frame, then on the floor in front of me.

    I grit my teeth, my knees starting to shake. I take a nervous step back, slowly backing to the wall, raising a hand to my mouth to muffle my breathing.

    Someone grabs my wrist, and I glance over at Sam, also against the wall, staring in front of us.

    The only thing I can hear is the rain from outside and my heartbeat ringing in my ears.

    The BT draws so sickeningly close to me, I almost feel like I'm going to throw up. Then, it turns to our right and drifts out of the building.

    Once it's out of the building, the ringing in my ears stops.

    I take a deep, relieved breath, and fall to my knees. I put my hands on the ground, just trying to catch my breath.

    Sam kneels with me, holding my arm, also breathing heavily. "Jesus fucking Christ..." he mutters, looking out the door, "why the hell was it in there?"

    "By the smell of it?" I say, my voice wavering a little, "someone died in the apartment and necrotized,"

    Sam nods a little, then looks at me. "You good?" He asks.

    I nod a little, but I still feel like I'm shaking. "The sheer density of chiraelium right there...?" I mutter, "...nauseating..."

    He nods a little. "Need a second?" He asks.

    I shake my head, and start to shakily stand.

    He helps me, and takes out his water bottle. "Need some water?" He asks, offering the bottle

    I shake my head. "No, thanks..." I mutter, "...I'll be fine...let's just do our job and leave, okay?"

    He nods. He turns toward the door I kicked in, and enters the apartment.

    I follow suit, and carefully pick through the wreckage. By this time, the colors have started to fade away.

    I find a beaded necklace, a small plush frog, three washcloths, and five spools of thread of varying shades. I add the necklace to my tokens around my neck.

    "Sam?" I called out.

    "Yeah?" He responds.

"Meetup back at the door?" I say.

"Roger that," he says.

I pick my way back to the front door, and soon after he meets me there. "What'd you find?" I ask.

"Uh..." he says, looking into his bag, "some matchbooks, a little shovel or like a trowel thing, a pair of binoculars, and a couple of tissue boxes," he looks up at me. "You?" He asks, putting his bag back on.

I nod a little. "This necklace," I say, showing the necklace, "a plushie, some washcloths, and some thread,"

He nods. "Next room?" He says.

I nod, and follow him out of the apartment.

•••

We spend most of the morning picking through the building.

We're now sitting on the edge of the building where a wall of an apartment had fallen down, showing a view of the surrounding environment.

I kick my feet a little, my heels tapping against the wall below me as I drink my water then take another bite of the sandwich in my other hand.

"Definitely better than relying solely on energy drinks..." Sam mutters.

I chuckle a little. "And cryptobiotes?" I say.

    He gags a little. "Those things are fucking gross..." he mutters, "...I mean...they do in a pinch, and I kinda got used to them, I guess, but..." he shudders.

    I chuckle again. "Yeah, I've never had the displeasure of trying them," I say, "so...I can't say anything,"

    He chuckles. "I'm gonna make you try one now that you've said that," he says, "next time we find one of the rocks they float around, I'm making you try one,"

    I laugh a little, shaking my head. "I'd rather not eat bugs, thank you very much," I say.

    He laughs a little as well. He drinks his water, looking off into the distance. "I wonder..." he mutters, then tilts his head. He takes the binoculars he had found earlier, and looks through them. "Kinda dirty..." he mutters, lowering them, and wiping the front lenses with the inside of his shirt.

    I watch him, and raise an eyebrow. "Whatcha looking for, Sam?" I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.

    "Haven," he says, looking through the binoculars again, "we should be in sight of the entrance, right?"

    I nod a little. "But we're facing the wrong direction," I say, "We're actually facing the direction we came from. You should be able to see Pops from here, and maybe the house you knocked down,"

    He chuckles a little. "You ain't never gonna let me live that down, are you?" He mutters.

    "Not a fucking chance, Bridges," I say, smiling a little.

    He continues to look through the binoculars, then straightens up a little. "There," he says, "I see Pops. Looks like there's another Scout visiting him..."

    I nod a little. "He's about...I'd say forty miles away, give or take?" I say, "So, whoever that is is roughly two days behind us. And, if I know the cycle of Scouts as well as I think I do...that's most likely Elyot,"

    Sam looks at me. "The hell are you, a walking database?" He laughs.

    I laugh a little. "Well...taking breaks, an untrained person can walk roughly twenty miles in a day," I say, "it's been two, maybe three days since we saw Pops? So, yeah, he's about forty to sixty miles away, which means that whomever is at him now is two to three days behind us. I know that Elyot starts his Trips two to three days after I do, because I see him in Haven again two to three days after I start my Rests,"

    Sam nods a little. "So...it's just this constant cycle?" He asks, "just...Trip, Rest, Repeat?"

    I nod. "We vary the directions we go, keep it fresh, but...yeah," I say, "I mean...is it much different from when you were a Porter?"

    He tilts his head. "I guess not..." he mutters. He puts the binoculars down, and continues to eat his sandwich. He looks at it, and seems like he wants to ask something.

    I take a bite of my own sandwich. "What's up?" I say, muffled a little by the sandwich.

    "How do the supplies get to the Safe Houses?" He asks, looking at me.

    "Porters," I say, "every few weeks, when we tell the Head Porter in Haven that the Safe Houses need a re-up, he sends sixteen porters out, four in each direction, carrying supplies for each of the seven Safe Houses along the Loops. They know the codes for the Safe Houses, and tend to stay at them if they're there for the night. Which is how it usually goes, since the Safe Houses are designed to be exactly a day's travel apart,"

    Sam nods. "So...we're heading toward the fourth Safe House?" He asks.

    I nod. "You got it," I say, "wanna punch the code in this time?"

    "Really?" He asks, sounding actually a little excited about it, then clears his throat and shrugs a little. "I mean...sure, I guess..." he mutters.

    I chuckled. "Let's finish lunch and continue combing the building," I say, "We should start heading out well before dusk so we can reach the House before dark,"

    He nods.

•••

That night we're sitting in the Safe House, eating baked beans with cut up sausages in them.

I'm listening as Sam recounts to me one of the times he fought Higgs and the BTs he could control during his journey across the country to try and save someone named Amelie.

"...this huge ass human shaped BT, but it didn't have a head," he says, gesturing wide, "it had, like...hands or some shit, like-like this," he puts his curled up hands together, the knuckles kind of touching.

I nod a little. "Freaky..." I mutter, smiling a little, "...and, he was actually there?"

"Yeah," Sam says, "he was in the BT, like stuck halfway out? And around him was gold, like a regular chiral crystal, and he would move positions sometimes, which pissed me off. Amelie was there, too, stuck into it kinda in its chest? And, it's fingers were fucking weird, too, like...really fucking long. I think they were like...tethers or something for other, smaller BTs?"

I laugh a little, trying to picture what he's describing. "And...you defeated it?" I ask.

"Well, yeah," he says, laughing a little, "I didn't really have a choice, I just kept fighting it until I won,"

I nod a little.

There's a brief silence between us.

He clears his throat softly. "You, uh...you have any stories?" He asks.

I tilt my head. "About what?" I ask.

"Anything," he says, "growing up with Higgs, from Middle Knot, from early days of being in Haven?"

I sigh softly, thinking. I pick at my beans for a second. "Honestly...I can't really remember my childhood," I say, "...memories just kind of...start in late teen, early adult years?"

His eyebrows raise. "Damn, that late?" He asks.

I nod. "We...we lived with...our uncle," I say, slowly, furrowing my eyebrows, "I...I can't really remember it, but...the earliest thing I remember is...looking out over the edge of a crater where our shelter used to be...and the only person there with me was...was Higgs. He grabbed my hand and said 'We gotta go', and we...we walked," I take a deep breath, exhaling through my nose.

Sam nods a little. "And...you ended up in Middle Knot?" He asks.

I nod. "We lived on the street for a bit, until Pops found us," I say, "he and Gram took us in, they were just those kinds of people. Higgs wasn't very...receptive to it, but he didn't have to stay there long. We were eighteen before we knew it, and he sought out something to do with his life," I scratch at the table a little. "That's when he met Fragile and Coffin..." I mutter, "...that's when...when I lost him...he never came home after that..."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait...Fragile?" He asks, "Like...Fragile Fragile, or her dad?"

"Her dad," I say, "I'm not too well acquainted with them, so...I'm not sure how working for them devolved into the terrorist group he made,"

Sam nods a little. "Damn..." he mutters, "...I guess...I'm sorry for beating the shit out of him? Even if he deserved it,"

I laugh a little. "You don't have to be sorry for my benefit," I say, "I know he was a piece of work. Hell, I have to carry around the fact that I look nearly identical to a terrorist and am almost constantly confused for him when people first meet me,"

Sam looks away from me, briefly, almost guiltily.

"But...doesn't matter anymore," I say, "he's gone. All we need to do now is...continue on,"

Sam nods a little. He continues to eat his beans, but seems like he has more on his mind.

I watched him for a while, furrowing my eyebrows a little. I finish my beans, and take my bowl to the sink.

Sam sighs. "Grey..." he says, "...I...I need to tell you something,"

I turn, looking over my shoulder at him. "Yeah, Sam?" I say.

He turns in his chair to face me, and his leg starts to jog a little. "I...I don't know, these few days just...traveling with you," he mutters, "hell, even the week living with you and the kids in Haven...I just...you..." he sighs.

I raise an eyebrow a little. I turn more, so my back is against the counter.

Sam sighs. "Fucking hell, why can't I speak..." he chuckles, "...what I mean to say is...Helen's got a point...you know?" He shrugs a little.

I raise my eyebrows a little in surprise. "What?" I say. I feel my heart start to sink.

"I mean, like...how you're kinda the perfect partner?" he says, "you're smart, know how to keep yourself and whoever you travel with safe, no matter the situation, you're a great teacher, funny as all get out. I mean, the fact that you won't tell me what the hell is bothering you half the time pisses me the fuck off, 'cause I worry about the fact you cry tar when you have nightmares, because that's not normal, but..." he shrugs a little, patting his thigh slightly.

I furrow my eyebrows again, my heart sinking further. "You...you worry about me?" I ask.

"How couldn't I?" He asks, "I mean...yeah, I cry after nightmares, comes with DOOMs, but...tar? I've never seen that, and it's...kinda terrifying,"

I sigh, and nod a little. "Believe me...it was scary the first few times it happened..." I mutter, "...it wasn't always like that...that's a recent thing, the tar..."

He furrowed his eyebrows. He sighs. "Great, now I'm gonna worry more," he says.

I chuckle nervously. I grit my teeth a little. 'Please don't be going where I think you're going with this...' I think.

Sam sighs again. "But..." he continues, "...my point is: I know it's easier to go it on your own. I've tried being on my own through everything, ever since..." he pauses, and takes a deep breath, "...ever since I lost Lucy. I didn't think I could ever find someone I felt like I could just...be myself around like I could with her. But I feel like I've known you my whole life, Grey. Like we grew up together or some shit, and..." he sighs, and looks away.

I feel my heart sink more. I take a deep breath. "Shit..." I mutter, crossing my arms. I look to my right, away from him. I turn and start to pace a little, running my hands through my hair, gripping at it a little.

He shifts in his seat, confused.

"This always fucking happens..." I mutter, tears filling my eyes, "I...I can't keep having this happen..."

Panic starts to claw at my chest, my throat, my lungs.

In response, my right hand drifts to my chest, and I start to claw at my shirt.

"The hell do you mean?" He asks, standing up, though sounds more confused than angry, "You...you sound angry, did-did I do something wrong?"

"No," I say, looking at him, holding a hand out, "n-no, it's not you, Sam,"

"Then, what is it?" He asks.

I take a deep breath. "I...I have horrible fucking luck with people, okay?" I say, "I lose everyone who ever meant anything permanent or powerful to me, and..." I take a deep breath, "...I thought you'd be different, but...it's just happening all over again...I've lost Higgs, Pops, Paul...I can't lose you, too...I can't lose anyone else..." tears stream down my face, and I take a deep breath.

My chest feels like it's going to implode, my heart racing so fast I'm afraid it may stall like an engine.

'I feel the same about him, but why am I so terrified?' I think.

Sam walks up to me and gently grabs my forearms.

I struggle a little, but his grip stays steady. I take a deep, shaking breath. "I...I can't..." I whimper, "...not you...I...you...you've got a kid...what'll happen to her?" I look up from our hands, look him in the eyes.

"I told you, Grey..." he says, softly, "...it'll take a whole hell of a lot to kill me...if I die, I'll just come back...you won't lose me, I promise..."

I take a shuddering breath, and move my arms to hold onto his forearms as well. I grit my teeth, leaning forward a little, looking down at the ground. "No matter what I do..." I mutter, "...no matter how I try...I always end up alone..."

"But, you're not alone," Sam says, "you've got the kids, Gram..."

"And I'm fucking terrified I'll lose them too," I say, softly, looking up at him.

He pauses, and sighs. "You took this job to try to distance yourself from them..." he mutters, "...Grey..."

I lower my head again, but I feel him pull me forward.

He almost hesitantly pulls me into a gentle hug. "You'll never end up alone..." he mutters, "...not on my watch...you'll always have someone, I promise,"

I pause, unsure how to react. I take a deep breath, and place my hands on his back. I grip the back of his shirt, and take another deep breath. I rest my forehead on his shoulder. As I exhale, I close my eyes, and before I know it, sobs bubble up. I grit my teeth, trying to stop myself.

"You've been through some shit," Sam says, "You don't have to hold it in...not anymore...I want to hear what's bothering you, Grey, and...I want to help. Let me help..."

I take a deep breath. "I'm terrified, Sam..." I mutter, "...I'm terrified that something is going to happen to Gram, to the kids...I keep seeing...things. In my dreams,"

He pauses. "Higgs?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No...I've seen Haven in flames," I say, "I've seen people fighting in the streets...Stu..." I take a deep, shuddering breath, thinking of the final image of last night's nightmare.

Stu, on the ground, staring at the sky, eyes blank. Lifeless.

I take a deep shaking breath.

He rubs my back a little. "If that does happen," he says, "you know I won't let anything happen to you or the kids,"

I take another deep, shuddering breath, nodding a little. I lean more into him, nuzzling into his neck. I take deep breaths, taking in his scent, the feeling of being in his embrace.

Sam chuckles a little. "Don't get hugs often, do you?" He mutters.

I chuckle as well. "Can it, Bridges..." I mutter, "...we're having a moment..."

"Are we?" He teases, taking his hands from my shoulders, and gently resting them on my waist, "I thought you were against letting yourself feel things,"

I raise my eyebrows a little, and open my eyes, looking at him, my head resting on his shoulder.

His head is turned toward me slightly, and he's looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

My stomach does a funny little flip that I haven't felt in a while, getting a kind of tingly feeling in my lower stomach.

I stand up straight, clear my throat, and move my hands from his back to his shoulders. I look away from him, but I know that it's obvious that I'm blushing. "Ok...that's enough of that..." I mutter, patting his shoulders, starting to back away.

But his grip on my waist stays.

"Sam," I say, sternly, looking at him, "Let go. I just...I need some time to think, okay? To...acclimate to this new information,"

He sighs, and nods a little, letting go of me. "You know where to find me once you figure it out..." he mutters. He backs away from me, grabs his drink from the table, and starts toward the bunk room. He seems disappointed, or resigned to the thought that I'm going to reject him.

I watch him, then sigh. "Fuck..." I mutter, gritting my teeth. I follow him. "Sam," I say, speeding up a little to catch up to him.

He turns toward me, looking a little confused.

I grab his shirt, pull him toward me, and kiss him.

He tenses up just slightly, and drops his drink in surprise. He melts a little, kissing back, grabbing my waist again. He turns me, and pushes me up against the doorway of the bunk room.

I pull out of the kiss, breathing heavily, holding onto his shirt.

He's also breathing heavily, and looks me in the eyes. A smile flickers across his face. "What happened to...'acclimating'?" He asks.

I chuckle, smiling. "What's the point..." I mutter, "...I hate seeing you upset..."

He chuckles a little, and grips my hips a little tighter. His eyes skate up and down my body, and he sighs softly. "I'll be honest..." he mutters, "...I've never felt this way about a guy..."

I smile a little. "Not used to it, huh?" I ask.

He shakes his head, and leans forward, nuzzling into my neck. He pushes me more against the doorway, one hand leaving my waist to lean against the doorway above me. He gently kisses my neck, making me gasp a little.

"Oh...Sam~..." I mutter, moving my hands to his back again as he pushes my hips a little with his. I grip his shirt, moving my hips a little, biting my lip at the feeling of me rubbing against his thigh.

He sighs a litte, a soft moan leaving him. His hand that still rests on my hip lowers to my thigh, and he grips it a little as he continues to kiss my neck, kissing up to my jaw.

I take a shuddering breath, smiling softly, tilting my head back a little. "Fuck~..." I mutter.

"Grey..." Sam mutters, "...fuck...I...I want..."

I raise my hands to grip his hair. I nod a little.

He smiles, and steps back from me, but keeps hold of my pants, pulling me with him toward his bed.

I chuckle, following him, yelping as he pushes me toward the bed so I sit. "A little pushy, huh?" I tease. 

He smiles softly, starting to undo his belt, rubbing himself through his pants. "Fuck..." he mutters, gritting his teeth.

I watch him, biting my lip. I sit up, starting to undo my own belt. I stand up, and he gently grabs my chin, pulling me toward him to kiss me again. I smile, grabbing his forearm, kissing back.

It's a quick kiss but it still leaves me gasping for air.

I gasp as I feel him unzip my pants and start to rub me through my boxers. "Oh, shit~..." I whimper, grabbing his shoulders.

He chuckles. "Come here..." he mutters, and gently turns me around, so my back is to him.

I smile, and moan softly as he tugs my pants down, letting them fall to the floor, and pulls my hips against his.

Even through both of our boxers, I can feel how hard he is, making my stomach do the little flip feeling again.

I bite my lip as I feel him rock his hips a little, rubbing himself against my ass. I smile, closing my eyes, reveling in the feeling.

"Ugh, fuck~..." he moans, softly, moving his hands from my hips to wrapping his arms around my torso, then whimpers, "...Grey~..."

I smile wider, leaning my head back. "Whenever you're ready, babe..." I mutter, reaching forward to hold onto the top bunk of the bed in front of us.

He nods, leaning his head against my back, between my shoulders. His hands drift down to my boxers, tucking his thumbs into the waistband. Slowly, he lowers just the back to just under my ass. He moans softly as one of his hands moves forward, into my boxers, the other moving backward, to his own boxers.

I moan as I feel him grab me and gently start to stroke. "Oh, fuck, Sam~..." I moan, arching my back.

He moans softly, bucking his hips so he presses harder against me.

I smile, and reach back, with both of my hands. I turn in my knees as he strokes harder, letting out a shaky moan. "Oh, fuck...~" I whimper, "...Sam...~"

He moves his hand out of my boxers, and grabs my hips.

I smile, and bend forward, but lean my hips back some as well. I gasp, then moan as I feel him push himself in, hearing him gasp as well.

"Oh, fuck...~" he moans, leaning forward with me. He wraps his arms around my torso, and slowly, carefully, pushes himself all the way in.

I arch my back, moaning, smiling wide. "Jesus Christ..." I mutter, breathing heavily, "...fuck, that's deep..."

"Holy shit..." he mutters, "...holy shit...holy fucking shit..."

I chuckle, then moan as he starts to thrust.

It's just a little at first, but slowly he pushes harder, deeper.

I feel my knees start to shake as he continues, and I lean toward the beds in front of us, reaching up and holding onto the top bunk for dear life. "Sam...~" I whimper, "...Sam, babe, not so hard~..."

He lets out a moan, and reaches up to grip my throat as he continues. He doesn't grip hard, but keeps a hold of my throat. He does slow down, taking deep breaths. "Sorry..." he says, forehead resting against my shoulder, "...got carried away..." he chuckles, "...I mean, how couldn't I...you're fucking perfect...~"

I reach up, holding his hand as he grips my throat, smiling wide. "Oh, fuck, Sam...~" I moan, "...Sam, I...I'm close...~"

He nods, and pauses. "Wanna move to the bed?" He asks, kissing the back of my neck, "Like...onto the bed?"

I smile and nod. "Fuck, yeah...~" I say, though I do grind against him, biting my lip as the tingling feeling of pleasure washes over me in waves. "Shit..." I mutter, then chuckle, "I'm not usually one to speak ill of the dead, but...you're bigger than Paul..."

He chuckles. Then pauses. "Wait..." he says, "...like...Helen's husband, Paul? The porter?"

I smile, and nod. I lean back on him, and turn my head to look at him. "We used to rendezvous at the last safe house of whatever loop we were on," I say, "Tried to coordinate our loops when we knew. He'd be just leaving, and I'd be coming home. Helen wasn't really the best to him. That and...he was kinda hiding what he really wanted from pretty much everyone,"

Sam looks at me and chuckles. "Obviously, she doesn't know you were sleeping with her husband," he says, "or else she wouldn't be trying to get with you,"

I chuckle, moving my hips again. "Oh, fuck...~" I mutter, reaching back, resting a hand on his head, gripping his hair, "...Sam, this feels...so fucking good..."

He chuckles. "Want me to make it feel better?~" he purrs.

I smile, and bite my lip a little. I nod.

He smiles and I feel him gently pull out.

I moan, chuckling as he gently turns me. I take my shirt off and toss it aside as I sit down on the bed. I move the blankets, bunch up the pillows behind me, and take my boxers  off fully. I watch as Sam takes his pants and boxers off, then his shirt.

He smiles at me as he crawls into bed with me, and gently moves my legs so my knees are bent. He gently spreads my legs, placing himself between them, but pauses, looking down at my thighs. "Wha...?" He mutters, running a hand down the inside of one of my thighs, then the other. He chuckles softly. "The hell is this?" He asks, playfully.

I chuckle a little, looking down at my own inner thighs, where there are flowers tattooed.

They're fairly large pieces, done just in linework.

"Would you believe me if I said I got them when I was drunk?" I ask, "me and a couple of other Scouts, we got drunk, and started to dare each other to do stupid shit, and someone dared me to get the girliest looking tattoos he could think of, and it ended up being...well, my favorite pieces I have to date..." I gently rub the tattoos, resting my hands on Sam's.

He chuckles, then looks up, and I see his eye land on something on my chest. "Woah...that one is cool," he says.

I chuckle. I look down at my chest at the tattoo he's looking at.

Two koi fish swimming under a skull with water plants growing around.

"Yeah...that one is for Pops..." I mutter, "kinda...a tribute. There was a song he showed me while we were in Middle, and...well, when he first showed it to me, I thought of Higgs, but now...the song makes me think of him,"

He nods. "What song?" He asks.

I pause, thinking. "To be honest...I can't remember the name, but...the line this used as inspiration goes something along the lines of...'we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,'. It's a good song, I'll show it to you when we get back..."

He nods, pulling himself closer to me. "God, you're beautiful..." he mutters, reaching up and gently caressing my sides, "...like, fuck, man..."

I smile, raising my hands to his shoulders. "You're not so bad yourself..." I mutter, smiling.

He chuckles, leaning toward me. He kisses me, his hands resting on my waist again. He pulls himself closer to me, and I feel him position himself before pulling out of the kiss.

I smile, closing my eyes, laying my head back as he slowly pushes himself in. I bite my lip and moan, the moan growing louder the further he pushes.

He leans in, wrapping his arms around my torso, burying his face in my neck. He gasps, groans a little, breathing heavily. "Fuck...shit..." he whimpers a little, "...ugh..."

I chuckle, resting my hands on his back. I moan a little, arching my back, as he starts to thrust a little again. "Shit!~" I gasp, gripping at his back.

His hands lower to my hips, then grip my thighs as he continues, grunting a little each time he thrusts. "Fuck, Gray..." he mutters, "...I just...can't...get...enough!" He laughs a little.

I smile, chuckling, then cry out a little as he pushes harder. "Babe!" I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist, "Not so hard...I need to walk tomorrow..."

He chuckles, then kisses up my neck to my ear. "I could just carry you," he mutters, "I've probably carried heavier..."

I moan softly, then chuckle. "Yeah," I say, "I forgot, you were a porter..." I bite my lip, my eyes rolling back a little as he continues, only letting up on force just slightly. "Fuck, babe..." I whimper, "...fuck, I'm close~...Sam!~" I move my hands up to his head, gripping at his hair a little.

His grip tightens, his force staying the same, but his pace slowing. I feel him close his eyes.

I turn my head to look at him, and gently pull his head up.

He looks at me, and without so much as a word from either of us, I kiss him, moving my hips with him, feeling a wonderful kind of tingling inside me building up to a crescendo.

I wrap my arms around him as I feel him reach completion at the same time as I do, him pulling me close so he's as deep as he can be. I gasp, pulling out of the kiss, rolling my head back, letting out a scream-like moan. I close my eyes, breathing heavily, smiling wide. "Fuck...~" I mutter.

Sam keeps hold of me, lying down with me, breathing heavily.

Both of us are slick with sweat at this point.

Sam chuckles a little, one thumb caressing my back as he holds me. "Jesus Christ..." he mutters.

I open my eyes, and look at him. I realize that I can see the color of his hair, his skin. I furrow my eyebrows, then realize that the colors are fading quickly. I grab his face, gently, and turn him so I'm looking him in the eyes. 

He looks confused, bright blue eyes flicking back and forth between mine.

"Blue...okay...noted..." I mutter.

He looks even more confused. "What...?" He mutters.

I chuckle softly, then sigh. "Fuck...I'm spent..." I muter, smiling, my eyes drooping a little.

He nods. "Should we...get to sleep?" He asks.

I nod. "Let me wash up first, okay?" I say, "I, uh...I made a bit of a mess..." I chuckle nervously.

He nods, and gently pulls out.

I moan a little. I take a deep breath, watching him stand up next to the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed, and shakily stand up. "Shit..." I mutter, "...I told you to be gentle, asshole..." I smile at him.

He chuckles, grabbing me, pulling me close. "Couldn't help myself..." he mutters, smiling.

I roll my eyes, and push him away, chuckling. "You should wash up, too," I say.

He nods, following me to the showers.

I turn on one of the showers, and stand under it, washing my stomach.

Sam comes up behind me, and hugs me, resting his forehead between my shoulder blades.

I smile softly. "Hi, hon..." I mutter.

He chuckles a little. "Hi, babe..." he says.

I chuckle softly.

We wash off, and go back to bed.

I'm laying next to Sam, my head resting on his shoulder, running my fingers across his bare chest. I furrow my eyebrows a little when I see that, instead of a belly button, he has a large, cross shaped scar. I gently trace my fingers over it.

He takes a deep breath, and sighs softly. He clears his throat a little. "I...I was a Bridge Baby," he says.

I pause, and look at him. "What?" I ask.

"That's what the scar is from," he says, not looking at me, looking up at the bunk above us, "I was a Bridge Baby. The first in America, I'm pretty sure. Or, at least...one of the first in the new experiments. My dad didn't want me to be kept in the lab, in the container, so he tried to take me and leave, but...security shot him. In the process, though...I was shot," He looks at me.

I raise my eyebrows. "Damn..." I mutter, "What...what happened?"

He sighs, looking away from me again. "Amalie, or...Bridget, or whoever she was at that point," he mutters, "she found me on the Beach, and saved me. Brought me back, but that's why I'm a repatriate. And...why I have the scar,"

I nod a little. "I...I have a very shallow belly button," I say, "almost like it's not there, I guess? Like...a mannequin or a doll or something..."

He nods. He looks at me. "What'd you mean by 'Blue' by the way?" He asks.

I raise an eyebrow. "Huh?" I ask.

"You looked me in the eyes," he says, "said 'Blue, okay, noted', and then...didn't explain a damn thing," he chuckles a little.

I chuckle nervously. I clear my throat softly. "There, uh...there was a brief moment," I say, "where I could see colors. So...I wanted to commit your eye color to memory..."

He raises his eyebrows a little, and nods. "You also have blue eyes, for the record..." he mutters, eyes starting to droop a little, "a kinda...steel-gray kind of blue, but...blue..."

I smile a little, nodding. "Thanks for letting me know..." I mutter, closing my eyes, and drifting off to sleep.

•••

"Smith!" A voice calls out from the main area of the safe house, waking me from my sleep.

"Monaghan..." I call out, drowsily, "and...Unger..." I then yawn a little, and snuggle back into Sam's chest.

"Huh?" Sam mutters, "wassup?"

"We just...let each other know who's in the house when we notice another Scout is there..." I mutter, "it's Eithan Smith...became a Scout around the time I did..."

After a few moments it dawns on me that Sam and I are still nude. And in bed. Together.

My eyes snap open fully. "Shit," I say, simply, then hear someone snort in laughter at the doorway. I sit up and turn toward the door.

Eithan, a sandy blonde man with a scar across his nose, rolls his eyes. "Why am I not surprised, Gray?" He asks, "new Porter?"

I chuckle a little, nervously. "He's a new Scout, actually," I say, "Coming in or heading out?"

"Heading out," he says, leaning against the doorway, "I'll say hi to Pops when I reach him," he looks at Sam. "Nice to meet you, Rookie," he says, "Gray is probably the best to learn from, because he learned from the best of us,"

Sam nods a little. "Thanks..." he mutters.

Eithan nods. "Well...I'm going to make breakfast," he says, "you lovebirds can get dressed. I'll make coffee," he turns away from the bunk area and enters the kitchen.

I chuckle nervously, then laugh a little.

Sam chuckles softly, and also laughs. "Well...that was embarrassing..." he mutters.

"I mean, at least is was just Eithan and not Stu..." I mutter, sitting on the edge of the bed and stooping down to grab my boxers I discarded last night. I stand up and pull them on.

Chapter Text

(Days later)

        I'm going through the kids' rooms, grabbing dirty laundry that is either in their hampers or laying on their floors.

        When I reach the room that the boys share, I also make their beds and put clothes in drawers that are not closed properly.

        As I arrange the pillows on Darren's bed, a small, plastic baggie falls out from the bedding.

        I tilt my head looking down at it. "Huh?" I mutter. I stoop down and pick up the bag of pale green and yellow, chalky-looking tablets. My heart sinks as I realize what they are. Immediately, I leave the room, quickly going down to the kitchen where the kids are eating lunch.

    Sam looks at me as I pass him, looking confused. He's holding Lou. "Gray?" He asks, "Gray, babe, what's up?"

    I hold a finger up to him, muttering "Just a moment,". I pause, and gently caress Lou's head. "Hey, honey..." I mutter, smiling softly, but I can't quite quell the panic gripping at my ribs. I lean into the doorway of the kitchen, and softly clear my throat.

    Gram looks up at me, feeding Asa some orange-looking paste. She gives a slight smile, but also looks confused.

    "Darren," I say, as calmly as I can, "can I talk to you in the living room, please?"

    Darren looks at me, confused, but nods, standing up from his plate of food.

    "Oooo..." Jayme and Olyver say as he walks toward me.

    Darren looks over shoulder at them. "Shut up..." he mutters.

    I gently grab Darren's shoulder, leading him to the living room. "Sit," I say, sternly, pointing to the couch.

    He carefully sits on the couch, hands clasped on his lap.

    I stand in front of him. I glance up as Sam enters the living room, no longer holding Lou.

    He stands at the doorway, leaning on the frame, his arms crossed.

    I look down at Darren. I hold the baggie out to him. "Can you tell me what those are, Darren?" I ask, carefully, trying my best not to be angry at him, but still feeling somewhat betrayed.

    He looks at the tablets, a look of panic in his eyes. He knows he's been caught. He sighs, his shoulders sinking. He hangs his head a little.

    I sigh, and sit on the coffee table in front of him. "Darren, bud..." I say, softly, gently grabbing his shoulder, "I'm going to be completely honest with you...I know exactly what this is. I just was trying to give you a chance to fess up,"

    He nods a little. "It's...Euphoria..." he mutters.

    I sigh, heavily. "If you use the excuse that you're just holding it for someone..." I mutter, my anger seeping through my voice, but I clear my throat, "...Darren, I hate to sound blunt, but...this is about a blow job's worth. Where did you get so much of it?"

    He sighs, tears rising in his eyes, still not looking at me. "...I got it by the Furnaces..." he mutters, "...from a dealer called Splitter...he didn't tell me how I was going to pay for it...just that I couldn't trade a token or anything for it..." he hugs himself a little.

    My heart plummets. 

    I sigh, and sit on the couch next to him. "Darren...I'm not mad at you, okay..." I say, softly. I sigh. "I...I'm not sure if you'd remember this, but..." I say, then glance up at Sam, "I used to be a user,"

    He nods a little. "I...I know..." he mutters, "that's how I knew how to get it..." he then looks at me, panic in his eyes. "I didn't take any, I swear!" He says, "I just...thought I could use it to trade...we ran out of Doctor Chips, and Jayme was getting worse..."

    I furrow my eyebrows. "What do you mean we ran out of Chips?" I say, "Sam just got...some..." I sigh, realizing what I forgot when we set out on our first Trip.

    "What?" Sam says.

    I look at him. "We didn't drop the Doctor Chips off before heading out last Trip..." I say. I then look at Darren again. "Okay...that was my fault," I say, "I was too preoccupied with getting Sam started on learning how to Scout. I'm sorry you felt like you had to resort to...this," I hold up the baggie a little, "in order to fill in where I dropped the ball,"

    He nods a little. "I...I wanted to tell you..." he mutters, "...I just...I didn't want you to be angry..."

    I nod a little, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I...I know," I mutter, "and to be honest...I was kind of angry at first, but I didn't want to show you that right out the gate. I didn't know the whole story, so..." I tilt my head a little.

    He sighs, and hugs me. He takes a deep shaking breath.

    I hugged him back. "I know, bud..." I mutter, patting his head a little, "...just...take your time...when you're ready, you can go back to lunch. I'll keep the Euphoria, I'll take care of it,"

    He nods a little. "I'm so sorry, Gray..." he mutters.

    I shush him a little. "You're not in trouble, Darren," I say, "and...if you ever want to talk about anything, you know I'm here,"

    He nods a little. He sits back and wipes his eyes, sniffing a little. He nods again. "I...I'm gonna go back to the kitchen now..." he mutters.

    I nod, watching him stand and leave the room. I sigh, leaning forward, resting my head in my hands. "Fuck..." I mutter.

    Sam sits next to me, and pats my shoulder. "Okay..." he mutters, "...can I ask a few questions?"

    I nod. "Shoot," I say.

    "What is...'Euphoria'?" He asks.

    I look at the little baggie in my hand. "A narcotic," I say.

    He sighs. "Fucking hell..." he mutters, "...and...the measurement you used, is that a figure of speech, or..."

    I shake my head. "Dealers don't take regular trades," I say, "no tokens, no Chips. Only Deeds. And usually..." I sigh, "...you pay with your body,"

    He sighs. "Fuck..." he mutters, angrily. He then looks at me. "And...you were hooked on it?" He asks, carefully.

    I nod a little. "When we first got here, before I was a Scout," I say, "I...I was miserable. I felt...trapped. The drugs...they were an escape. I started out with this stuff called Jackass, because it felt like a mule kicked you in the teeth..." I chuckle, darkly. "It got so bad," I say, "I wouldn't come home for days on end. One day, Pops and Stu found me, almost catatonic, half dressed, laying on a pile of trash bags by the Furnaces,"

    Sam sighs. "But...you're better now, right?" He asks, genuinely worried sounding.

    I nod. "Pops was the one who helped me get and stay sober," I say, "by being militant in my training to be a Scout. If you're too busy training or working, you don't have time to use the stuff,"

    Sam nods a little. He sighs. "What kind of fucked up person would sell to a fourteen year old boy..." he mutters.

    "There are some fucked up people in this city," I mutter. I then stand. "I'm going to finish with the laundry, then...I'm going to deal with this..." I say.

    He nods. "Want me to come with you?" He asks.

    I shake my head. "I'm fine," I say, knowing this isn't a job for me, at least not a job to show my face on.

•••

    I leave the alleyways of Haven, heading toward the amber glow of the chimneys and burn-barrels around the Furnaces area.

    There are people standing around, some warming themselves on the fire of the barrels, others leaning against walls or pacing. There are even people sitting in the pile of trash waiting to be burnt in the Furnaces, petting or feeding the stray cats that also call this area home.

    Some people look at me, and shrink away.

    Others glare at me, narrowing their eyes.

    I stand in the middle of the more populated area. "I'm looking for someone," I say, my voice carrying through the cavern, "a dealer called Splitter,"

    People mutter, looking around.

    A thin faced, greasy looking man steps forward. "That'd be me, Mr Silver Skull, sir," he says, almost meekly, almost like what you'd imagine a rat to sound like, "interested in some of my...wares?" He smiles a crooked-toothed smile, opening his coat and showing a variety of baggies pinned to the inside. He's wearing a greasy undershirt and filth stained jeans under the coat.

    I look at him and narrow my eyes. I take out the baggie of Euphoria. "Is this yours?" I ask.

    He closes his coat and narrows his eyes at the baggie. "Hard to tell..." he says, scratching his chin.

    "Did you sell it to a boy named Darren?" I ask, angrily, stepping toward him.

    Bystanders take a step back.

    He steps away from me. "Darren...?" He mutters, then chuckles, "oh...the orphan boy...what a good boy...a good boy indeed..." he smiles in a way that makes rage boil in my chest. He slightly licks his bottom lip.

    I grit my teeth, take a few quick steps toward him, and, palming the baggie, grab his face. I forced his head into the stone wall behind him, and let go of him, letting him fall to the ground.

    He lets out a cry of surprise and pain, clutching the back of his head as he sits, whimpering, on the ground.

    I reach down and grab his collar, lifting him to his feet, then pull him close to my face. "He's a child," I say, "a child! Does that mean nothing to you?!"

    He stares at me, terrified. "I...I'm sorry!" He whimpers, "Please! Don't kill me!"

    "Oh, I'm not going to kill you," I say, "I'm going to ruin your goddamn life..." I take out my knife, and pin his arm to the wall.

    "No, wait, please, stop!" He screams as I start to carve into his arm.

    "Did you?" I ask him, "Did you stop when he asked?" I knee him in the crotch. "Stop squirming so damn much..." I mutter, as I continue to carve letters into his arm.

    P-E-D-O-P-H-I-L-E

    I then grab his face and carve smaller letters on his face.

    P-E-D-O

    With one last punch to the gut, I let him drop to the ground, and look at the other people. 

    They all stare in amazement and fear.

    "Someone wrap his injuries," I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, pointing at Splitter, "I don't want him dying. I want people to see him and know what he does. And for those of you curious: this man likes to touch little boys, likes to use them. He molested a fourteen year old boy. Do what you want to him, but I want you to let others know," I walk away from the man crying on the ground, back toward the city, when I see two figures standing by the entrance of the tunnel leading to this cavern.

    One looks like an adult man, wearing a dark coat and pants, his hair tied up.

    The other is a boy, maybe a pre-teen, holding onto the man's sleeve.

    They both look concerned or scared.

    As I draw closer, I see that it's Sam and Darren.

    Darren steps back, tugging on Sam's arm. "We need to go..." he mutters, "...it's Silver Skull..."

    Sam doesn't move, looking at me, oddly. "What did you do?" he asks.

    "Left reminders or warnings to future clients," I say, "that man is scum, and people need to know,"

    He furrowed his eyebrows a little, then I see a faint look in his eyes. Like he realizes something.

    I raise an eyebrow slightly. "Shouldn't you two be going home?" I say, looking at Darren.

    "We will, sir," Darren says, still tugging Sam's arm, "Sorry...we just thought we'd find someone we know here..."

    I nod. "Get going, kid," I say, "take your dad with you," I turn to leave.

    "I'm not the kids dad," Sam says, "I'm one of his Caretakers,"

    I pause, and look over my shoulder. "Sorry for assuming," I say, "but you two should still be getting home," I turn forward again, and duck into the alleyways of the city.

•••

    I take a deep breath, rubbing my face as I take my mask off. I'm about to put it in the hidden compartment in my closet, when I hear movement behind me. I look over my shoulder, turning slightly to look. 

    The door of the room has quietly opened, and Sam stands at the door.

    He's looking at me, his eyes flicking down to the mask in my hands. 

    I grit my teeth.

    "So I was right..." he mutters, closing the door behind himself. He looks at me. "you're Silver Skull,"

    I sigh, and nod. "I had hoped..." I mutter, then sigh, "...I hoped you'd never find out. But...here we are," I shrug a little.

    He nods a little, crossing his arms.

    I sigh, putting the mask on top of my dresser. "One of the first days I was here, and I was sober, I saw...I saw someone harass and almost kill a young woman," I say, "I reported it to the guard, but did they do anything?" I scoff.

    Sam sighs. "So...you decided to, what, become some kind of vigilante?" He asks.

    I tilt my head. "Pretty much," I mutter, "I couldn't let that go. And...it's kinda evolved into me being a bit of a living legend in Haven. No one suspects a Caretaker like me is Silver Skull. I take care of what the Guards don't,"

    He nods a little. "What happens if they do find out?" He asks, "what then?"

    I shrug. "I guess we'll find out when it happens," I say, "which...I highly doubt,"

    He sighs. "This is dangerous, Gray," he says, "you've got kids to look after. You could get hurt, or worse,"

    I look at him.

    He looks genuinely worried, which makes my heart ache a little. 

    I sigh. "I...I can't stop now, Sam..." I mutter, "...I've gone too far to go back now..."

    He furrowed his eyebrows. He then sighs. "Ok..." he says, "if you're so set on this..."

    I nod a little, and walk up to him. I gently grab his elbows, and pull him toward me, gently kissing his forehead. "I'll be okay..." I mutter, "I promise...now, let's get to bed..."

    He nods a little. "Okay..." he mutters.    

•••

(10 months later)

I'm sitting with Sam on the back porch, watching kids play in the backyard.

    Sam has his head leaning on my shoulder.

    I smile a little, leaning my head on his.

    But something feels off. A kind of pit forms in my stomach, making a chill crawl up my spine and across my shoulders.

    I furrow my eyebrows.

    ‘Get up.’

I jolt a little, the voice being almost as loud as someone talking to me. I look around, the hair on my arms standing on end.

Sam sits up and looks at me. "Grey?" He asks, "what's up?"

"I...I don't know..." I mutter, standing up, rubbing one of my arms.

That's when someone knocks on the front door of the building.

I look through the house to the door, and start through the kitchen.

"Gray?" Gram asks, descending the stairs, holding Lylah, one of the infants, "What's going on? I saw smoke coming from the Career Building..."

I look at her, my heart plummeting to my feet. 'Oh, god, please, no...' I think, images of the city in flames flickering across my vision. I answer the door, and Stu is standing at the door.

The man looks panicked, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Monaghan," he says, grabbing my shoulder, "we need to go,"

I furrow my eyebrows. "Go?" I ask, stepping back and grabbing my coat and stepping into my boots, "Go where?"

"The Career building," he says, "there...there's a riot, and...they've started the Building on fire. I want to save the Atlas, if I can, and all files we've made. Bridges here with you?"

I nod, and look over my shoulder.

Sam is also putting his boots on. He looks at me, a knowing kind of look in his eyes. He nods a little.

I look back at Stu, and nod. "Let's go," I say.

•••

It doesn't take us long to cross the city to get to the Career Building, but when we do, there are crowds of people in the courtyard.

There are people, unconscious or dead, laying on the pavement, and many more fighting or just causing general destruction.

I grit my teeth, seeing the flames licking at the side of the Career Building. "What happened?" I ask Stu.

"Dunno," he says, "but...this was a long time coming. All I want is to save the important stuff. Come on,"

I nod, but catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to look.

A man lobs something small and metallic looking at the building, breaking a window.

I furrow my eyebrows, then feel like I've been punched in the gut.

DUCK, YOU IDIOT!

"STU!" I shout, trying to grab the man as he draws nearer to the building.

He looks at me, and we're blown back as an explosion rips through the building. 

I hit the pavement, hard, breath knocked out of my lungs. I stare up at the cave ceiling, my vision fading in and out of focus, my ears ringing.

‘Get up.’

I gasp, my vision snapping into focus, my hearing returning.

Shrapnel covers me and the ground.

I sit up, pushing a chunk of wood laying across me to the side, and shakily standing. I brush dust and dirt off of me, coughing in the cloud of dust and smoke. "Stu!" I call out, my voice hoarse, "Sam!"

"Grey!" Sam calls out, coughing, "Grey, over here!"

I shield my face and move through the smoke until I find Sam.

He doesn't look any worse for wear, just dusty, and there's a cut on his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. He looks at me, then looks around. "These lunatics are gonna destroy the city..." he mutters.

"Where's Stu?" I ask, my voice catching in my throat.

He looks at me, a kind of pained look on his face. He glances over his shoulder.

I step around him, and stop in my tracks. I let out a soft cry of despair as I saw the elder Scout's body pinned under a pile of rubble.

His face is placid, his eyes wide open, staring, unseeing, at the cave ceiling.

Just like in my dreams.

My heart feels like it's being strangled.

Sam grabs my arm, pulling me out of the shock. "We need to get back to the kids and Gram," he says, "we need to get out of here,"

I look at him, and grit my teeth. I nod.

•••

"Gram!" I call out as I burst into the front door of the orphanage, "Gram, where are you?!"

"Here, Grey," she says, approaching, "we heard an explosion, what's happening?"

"The riots are getting out of hand," I say, grabbing her shoulders, "at this rate, the whole city will be destroyed. We need to pack up and leave, find somewhere safer for the children,"

She looks shocked, but unsure. "Where would we go?" She asks.

I sigh. "I’m not sure,” I say, “We'll talk about this when we get somewhere safe," I say, "for now, we need to help the kids pack and leave as quickly as we can. Pack only the essentials, and pack light,"

Gram nods. "I'll help the girls, you help the boys," she says.

I nod, following her up the stairs. I knock on the door of the boys' room. "Darren," I say, opening the door, "help me get you and the boys packed,"

"Packed?" He asks, standing from where he, Ozcar, Jayden, Olyver, and Jayme are huddled, "For what?"

"We're leaving," I say, grabbing a bag for him, "going somewhere safe,"

He nods, and looks at the other boys. "Come on," he says.

The others stand and start grabbing things.

All except Jayme, who looks pale and exhausted.

I grit my teeth. "I'll pack for Jayme," I say, "Gram is helping the girls pack, and we'll meet downstairs,"

Darren nods.

Not long after, Sam arrives at the door. "I packed our stuff," he says, wearing two bags and a kind of wrap, holding Lou securely to his chest.

I nod. "Go help Gram with the other infants," I say, taking my bag from him and putting it on, "I'm probably going to have to carry Jayme, he's not looking good,"

He nods, and leaves.

Darren starts to lead the other boys downstairs.

I approached Jayme. "Hey, bud..." I mutter, kneeling down in front of him, "...feel okay to stand?"

He shakes his head a little.

I sigh, and nod. "Okay," I say, "I'm going to turn my back to you. You just hug me, and I'll pick you up, alright?"

He nods a little.

I nod, and turn my back to him. I feel him hug me around my shoulders, and feel that he's shaking a little. I grit my teeth, grabbing his arms, and pulling him closer, then standing up.

"Here, let me help, Gray," Sam says, helping me get Jayme onto my back.

"Grab a blanket or something to wrap around him," I say, "It'll also help to keep him on my back,"

He nods, and grabs one of the bed sheets, and wraps it around me and Jayme to keep the boy on my back. "We're all downstairs," he says, "I have Lou, Gram has Lylah, and Nahla has Asa,"

I nod. "Let's go," I say.

•••

The riots seem to have spread through the streets of Haven, more and more buildings on fire.

I lead the children, Gram, and Sam through the city, through the alleyways, to the exit.

When we reach the exit, the most notable thing is that there are no guards near the exit.

'Good,' I think, 'no one to stop us,' I look over my shoulder, making sure everyone is still following me.

Sam has taken up the back of the group, so he keeps the kids in the group, and Gram is also keeping the kids near.

I nod a little, and look around. I find a lever in the wall, near the tunnel to the door, and I pull it.

From down the tunnel, I hear the door start to open.

I smile a little, and stand by the tunnel. "Go, down the tunnel and through the door," I say to Darren as he passes me, "wait for us outside,"

He nods, helping Nahla herd the kids down the tunnel.

Both Sam and Gram wait with me, watching as the kids leave.

"You two should go," I say, "I'll bring up the rear,"

Sam shakes his head, "You've got Jayme," he says, "you need to get him out,"

"You two have infants," I counter, "you need to go,"

"I'm not arguing with you about this, Gray," he says, sternly, "go!"

I grit my teeth, when, suddenly, gunfire rings to my left.

We all duck, and see a group of rioters, all armed.

"Shit!" I hiss, tugging Sam's sleeve, "Gram, come-" I look at the woman, and my heart almost stops.

She sways on her feet, and turns to look at us. 

A dark spot has started to grow across her tunic and cardigan. 

"Gray..." she whispers, stumbling forward.

I rush toward her, and grab her. "No...no, no, no, Gram!" I cry.

"Take...take Lylah..." she says, shakily, "...go...take the kids...run..." She falls to her knees, holding the wailing infant out to me.

I nod a little, grabbing Lylah from her, gently tucking her into the sheet wrapping around me and Jayme, securing her to my chest.

The infant continues to cry, but not as fearfully as before.

I grab Gram, kneeling with her. "D-don't go..." I mutter, cradling her in my arms, tears streaming down my face, "please...please, Gram...I need you..."

She shakes her head a little. "N-no...you don't..." she mutters, reaching up to touch my face, "...you...and Sam...take...take good care...of your children..."

I grit my teeth, grabbing her hand and holding it. "I...I promise, Gram..." I mutter, "I'll take good care of them...I swear on it..."

She smiles, and nods. "Good...boy..." she mutters, going limp, her eyes just barely closing.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, sobs starting to bubble up. I grit my teeth, and clear my throat, squeezing my eyes shut. After a few moments, I look up and around. 

The streets are silent.

I pick Gram up, walking to a nearby burning building. I lay her at the base of the flames. I take her tokens from her, putting them on. 

Three necklaces, two rings, and a bracelet.

I stand up again, and walk to Sam.

He watches me, tears streaming down his own face.

I grab his shoulder. "Let's go..." I mutter.

He nods.

We continue down the tunnel, to the door, and out into the night.

Darren looks at us, smiling, but then his smile falters and drops. "Where...where's Gram?" He asks.

I look at him and shake my head.

His eyes tear up, looking at me in disbelief.

I gently grab his shoulder. "We need to get going," I say, "get the kids together and we'll start toward the first Safe House,"

He nods, sniffing, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

•••

We’ve been walking for a while, mostly in silence.

Sam, Darren, and I take turns carrying the younger kids, mainly Mari, Jayden, and Ozcar, when they get tired.

We’ve been going from Safe House to Safe House, mostly to grab supplies when we can, but sometimes to sleep as well.

At the moment, we’re at a Safe House south west from Haven.

Sam and I sit at the kitchen table, watching the older kids help the littler kids get ready for bed.

I take a deep, shaking breath, holding Sam’s hand.

He holds mine in both of his, patting my hand. He looks at me.

“What are we going to do now, Sam?” I ask.

“I…I don't know…” he mutters, “…I’m probably gonna get into a lot of trouble if I show up anywhere in the UCA…”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What do you mean?” I ask, "Because you left?”

He nods. “I was supposed to take Lou for disposal, but…I opened her pod instead,” he says, “I left Bridges, and never looked back. I…I was looking for somewhere for us to lay low when I ran into you, in those buildings,”

I raise my eyebrows. I take a deep breath, a splitting pain burning on my left side, but I grit my teeth, and swallow it down.

Sam furrowing his eyebrows. “Are you okay?” He asks.

I nod. “Just…tired,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.

He nods, but we both perk up as we hear a knock at the door of the Safe House.

Darren also perks up, and looks at us. “Grey?” He asks.

Sam and I stand up.

“Darren, Nahlah,” I say, rounding the table, getting all the kids to stand up, “take everyone to the bunks. Stay quiet,”

They both nod, gathering the kids, and going to the room with the bed.

Sam looks at me and nods.

I grab a kitchen knife, holding it ready, nodding back.

He steps into the entryway, and I follow him, craning my neck to look around him. He opens the door, and pauses. “Fragile?” He asks, sounding surprised, “How the hell-?”

“Sam,” a woman says, sounding relieved, “I’m glad I found you. We need to talk,” She steps into the doorway, facing him. She looks at me, then pauses, a look of fear or anger in her eyes.

I narrow my eyes.

“This is Grey,” Sam says to her, gesturing to me, “Graeson Monahagn. He’s Higgs’ brother. He’s…he’s my partner,”

I grit my teeth, but smile softly at Sam’s introduction of me. I wince as my side hurts again, but I swallow it down.

Sam looks at me. “Grey,” he says, “this is-”

“Fragile, yeah, I know,” I say, stiffly, interrupting him.

She furrows her eyebrows. “Higgs’…brother?” She asks. She then looks at Sam. “Sam…” she starts.

“We…we’re not staying here permanently,” he says, “just…until we find somewhere better. We had to leave where we were staying, but…”

She nods a little. “Are there more of you?” She asks, stepping toward me.

I step into her path, not letting her pass.

“Grey, let her go,” Sam says.

“Over my dead body…” I growl.

“She wants to help, damn it!” He snaps.

“I don’t need her damn help!” I replied. I take a deep breath, pausing.

‘This doesn’t sound like me,’ I think, ‘Why am I angry? This…this isn’t right…’

I blink. “I…I’m sorry,” I mutter, “didn’t mean to snap like that…I…” I take a step back, letting her pass. I raise a hand to my head.

Pussy…

I grit my teeth.

Fragile inspects me briefly, but as she passes me, her face softens. She looks toward the bunks. “Oh…” she mutters, “…how many are there?”

“Fifteen,” Sam says, “including Lou,”

Fragile looks at him. “She’s here?” She asks.

He nods, approaching Kora, who’s holding Lou. He gently takes Lou from her.

Fragile smiles, waving at the little girl. She sighs. “I…I don’t want to separate all of you, but…we need you, Sam,” she says.

I watch them, but their voices have started to echo oddly. My ears start to ring.

It feels like I’m standing on jello.

My head spins, and I take a shaking breath, swaying. 

“Sam…?” I manage, barely a whisper.

He looks at me. “Grey?” He asks.

I try to take a step, and collapse to the ground.

“Gray!” Sam cries out, handing Lou to Fragile and catching me before I hit the ground. He looks at my left side as he holds it and moves his hand, showing a dark stain. “Shit…” he mutters, “…how’d you get hurt?”

I lean toward him, resting my forehead on his shoulder. “I think…back in…Haven…” I mutter, placing my hand over his, “…when…Gram…”

Sam nods a little, applying pressure to the wound.

“What happened, Sam?” Fragile asks, approaching, but stopping. “What…?” She mutters, then looking at me almost in an accusing way.

“I…I think he was shot…” Sam mutters, “but…that wouldn’t account for the color…”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What do you mean?” I mutter.

“Grey…” he mutters, “…your blood…it’s black…”

“The hell you mean, it’s black…?” I mutter, but I’m feeling like I’ll pass out at any minute. “Sam…” I mutter, leaning my head on his shoulder, “blood always looks black to me, you’re going to have to be more specific,”

Sam chuckles a little. “Blood is red, Gray,” he says, “but yours…yours looks like tar…”

I furrow my eyebrows.

“He can’t stay here, Sam…” Fragile starts to speak, but I feel myself slip further and further away.

The world slowly fades to black.

The crashing of waves draws my attention.

I snap awake. Or, at least I think I am.

I’m standing on a beach.

“Took you long enough…Brother,” someone says, nearby.

I look around, and see Higgs sitting on a nearby rock. I take a surprised step back.

“Man…” he chuckles, looking up at me, “…I still get goosebumps when I look at you. Fucking freaky seeing my face on someone else,”

“Where am I?” I mutter.

“You?” He asks, then chuckles, “You’re asleep. Or…more accurately, unconscious from ‘blood loss’,” he adds the air quotes as he speaks, “though…you don’t really have blood to loose, so…meh,”

I furrow my eyebrows. “How-” I start.

“The fuck-ass version of DOOMs you have,” he says, pointing at me, then gesturing between us, “keeps us connected. You never dreamt of the end of the world, or the beach or any of that shit. You only ever dreamt of me…ain’t that right? You…saw the destruction of Central Knot. And, as of late, you’ve been leaving me on read with the shit I’ve been sending you. You know…that’s pretty rude,”

“Sending me?” I ask, “The…the nightmares? About Stu and Haven?”

He tilts his head. “Ehhh…educated guesses on my part, but…” he says, tilting his hand back and forth, “…there’s also the times I shout at you, call you names, shove you out of the way of a fucking explosion. Yeah, not smart to stand in the way of a grenade, bud,”

I raise my eyebrows. “That…was you?” I ask.

He nods, standing up. “Everything will be explained in due time,” he says standing in front of me, resting his hands on my shoulder, “though, not by me. Frankly, I don’t understand most of it, but…” he tilts his head. “One way or another, I’ll be seeing you…little brother,” he smiles in a way that both comforts me and makes me feel like he’s plotting something. Before I can respond, he shoves me backward, and I fall into the sand and am consumed by darkness.

Chapter Text

After Gray fell unconscious, Fragile had led me and him to a nearby shelter, one with better capabilities to take care of him.

She took all of the kids somewhere safe, somewhere where they could get permanent places to stay, and where Jamie could get better care. It almost seems like she wants to keep them as far away from Gray as possible.

All of the kids except Mari, who refused to leave Gray.

I'm sitting on the floor in the living room area, watching Mari try to teach Lou how to draw.

I sigh softly, looking up at where Gray lays on a hospital bed.

'What the hell happened?' I wonder, 'This isn't right...'

"Sam," Mari asks, "could I have something to drink?"

I nod, standing up. "Sure, honey..." I mutter, "...water?"

She nods. "But...if there's juice?" She asks, tilting her head.

I chuckle, and nod. "Okay..." I say, going to the kitchen. I grab a cup, and look around for something like juice to get for her.

A ping goes off, letting us know someone is here.

I look toward the door, fighting off the knee-jerk reaction of grabbing a kitchen knife.

Fragile rounds the corner. "The kids are safe," she says, "I...I'm sorry I had to send them away, Sam, but...so many all in one place, with..." she glances at Gray. She then looks down at Mari and Lou. A faint smile flickers across her face.

I nod slightly. "It's not going to be fun to be the one to explain to him where they are..." I say, getting the juice for Mari, and setting it down next to her on the ground, "...he's known most of them since infancy,"

She sighs, nodding. "With his current...condition, I couldn't let them stay near him," she says, bluntly.

"Why?" I ask, "He's done nothing but care for them, but all you see is Higgs when you look at him, huh?"

She tenses up, but sighs. "Who is he, Sam?" She asks, glancing at Gray again.

    I furrow my eyebrows. "He's Higgs' brother, about three years younger," I say, shrugging, crossing my arms, "they grew up together, with their uncle, until he died. Ran to Central Knot, was found by Gram and Pops. Then Higgs left to find his own way when he was old enough, leaving Gray behind. Gray had a dream about the bombing of Central, and was able to get him, Gram, Pops, and the kids under their care out of the city, and they found Haven. They...they lived there ever since,"

    She raises her eyebrows. "He was in Central?" She asks, "You said he dreamt of the bombing?"

    I nod. "He has weird, prophetic nightmares," I say, "like...scarily accurate. I've seen it a few times, before the revolt in Haven. He dreamed about it…" I look toward the hospital bed again.

    Gray has an oxygen mask over his face, pale and almost corpse-looking. His shirt has been removed, bandages around his midsection, black starting to seep through. 

Sweat gleams on his skin. 

There are IV tubes going from his arm to the bag on the stand next to him, and wires attaching him to all kinds of machines.

Fragile is watching me, concerned. She looks at Gray.

    I sigh. "He...He has DOOMs," I say, "a lower level, three or four I think, but..." I shrug slightly.

    She nods. "He said blood always looks black to him," she says, "what did he mean?"

    "He sees chirealium," I say, "at least...that's how I understand his explanation. He sees in black and white, or...grayscale, I guess, until he's in an area with high levels of chirealium. That's when he starts to see colors. That's how he knows he's in a dangerous zone, and he sees the negative space of BTs that way too,"

    She nods again. "And...you and him...?" She looks at me.

    "We're partners," I say, "take that however you want,"

    She furrows her eyebrows. "You're telling me you don't see the resemblance?" She asks.

    I sigh. "I did at first," I say, "but trust me when I say physical resemblance is where it ends. He's nothing like Higgs," I stand up a little straighter, watching Gray.

His eyes have opened, and he's looking around. Even from here, I can see the panic building in his eyes. He's starting to breathe heavier.

I approached him. "Hey, hey, Gray..." I mutter, kneeling next to the bed and grabbing his arm with my left hand, gently placing my right hand on the top of his head, "...you're alright...you're okay..."

He looks at him, gray-blue eyes filled with tears. "Where am I?" He whimpers, his voice hoarse.

"We're in a shelter," I say, "Fragile lead us here,"

He nods, eyes flicking to behind me. He looks confused, looking around. "The kids?" He asks softly.

"They're safe," Fragile says, "I made sure they're found proper homes,"

He looks at her, a look of pain and anger in his eyes. He looks at me. "And you let her?" He asks.

"I had no choice, hun..." I mutter, "...trust me, there's no arguing with Fragile. 'No' isn't in her vocabulary,"

Fragile scoffs a little, but doesn't say anything.

Gray glances at her.

"But..." I continued, "...I was mainly worried for Jamie, and she found somewhere where he'll be taken care of..."

He sighs.

"But...bright side..." I say, rubbing his arm a little, "...Mari threw a tantrum and refused to be taken away from you..."

Gray chuckles, then coughs. "God, I love that kid..." he mutters.

"Sam..." Fragile says, "...I don't mean to be...pushy, but...we need your help again,"

I look at her, narrowing my eyes.

•••

I take a deep breath, blinking, looking around the room.

It's that shelter I had woken up in before.

I sit myself up, stiffly. I take the oxygen mask off of my face, looking around, confused.

The shelter is mostly silent, kids toys and drawings scattered across the floor.

I turn myself, sitting at the edge of the bed now. I start removing the patches and needles and tubes from my arms, and slide myself off of the bed.

Alarms start to sound from the machines around me.

From a different section of the shelter, Fragile approaches, looking concerned.

Her jumpsuit has been unzipped, the arms tied around her waist, showing her tank top underneath. She’s also not wearing her boots.

She's holding Lou, who smiles when she sees me. 

Lou crows happily and reaches her arms out to me.

Mari follows Fragile, looking confused, then smiles, gasping. "Gray!" She cheers, jumping, "You're alive!" She runs up to me and hugs my leg.

I laugh, patting her head. "Of course I am," I say, my voice hoarse, "You think I'd just leave you?"

She giggles. "Fragile was starting to think you wouldn't wake up," she says, "but I kept telling her you would, and I was right!"

I chuckle, and look at Fragile.

She looks at me, uncomfortable. "How do you feel?" She asks.

I shrug a little. "Weird..." I mutter, "...how long have I been out?"

"A few days," she says, "you talk in your sleep. You were calling out for Sam,"

I sigh, nodding. "Where is he?" I ask.

"Sam went to Mexico!" Mari says, hopping, "Fragile wants him to connect a...a cry-all net, and talk to a dead man?" She looks at Fragile. "Did I say that right?" She asks. 

Fragile chuckles. "The Chiral Network," Fragile says, "we have a friend, called DeadMan, who is working in a lab in Mexico. Sam connected the UCA to the Chiral Network, crossing the continent to do so, so...we thought he'd be the best to help us again,"

I furrow my eyebrows. "We?" I ask.

She nods. "At first it was BRIDGES," she says, "now, we call ourselves Drawbridge. There's a much longer explanation, but..."

"You don't feel like I deserve the explanation, huh?" I say, "You're still not sure if you can trust me?"

She leans back a little.

"Listen," I say, "I know you, your dad, and my brother had a history, and not a good one, but I'm not Higgs. Some days I wish I didn't look like him, but it's unavoidable. So, if you don't mind, I'd rather you not blame me for something I didn't do,"

She looks like I've attacked her personally, but sighs. "It's hard to get past it, when not just your face looks like his, but...your voice..." she mutters, anger tainting her words.

I sigh. "Believe me, I get it..." I mutter, "...remember, I grew up with him..."

She furrows her eyebrows. "Not to be...well, blunt, but, I'm surprised you exist," she says, "To my knowledge, Higgs doesn't have any living family members,"

"I'm honestly not surprised that he denied my existence," I say, "he dropped me the first chance he got, never looked back..."

She nods, but looks somewhat suspicious.

"Gray," Mari says, "I'm hungry..."

I nod, standing up.

My left knee feels like it's shaking a little, but I get myself to my feet.

Fragile steps forward, carefully, but doesn't reach out for me.

Lou, on the other hand, does. She reaches a little hand out to me, fingers grabbing at the air.

I smile softly, and limp toward Lou. "Hey, baby girl..." I mutter, "...enjoying time with Mari and Fragile?"

She giggles a little, little fingers brushing against my face as I get close enough.

Fragile watches, warily, but I do see her expression soften some. "Want me to get Mari her food?" She asks.

I shake my head. "I can do it," I say, "you've got Lou,"

She nods, following me toward the kitchen.

Mari climbs up onto a stool at the counter in the kitchen, and pats her hands on the counter. "Could I have a sandwich?" She asks.

I smile, nodding. "PB&J?" I ask.

"Yes, please!" She says, happily.

I nod, grabbing the ingredients.

Suddenly, an alarm rings out through the shelter.

"Intrusion detected. Intrusion detected," the computerized voice says, "Level five alert. Multiple unidentified armed hostiles inbound,"

I look up, furrowing my eyebrows. I look at the display that has popped up, seeing multiple figures in strange outfits, all with guns.

Fragile looks at the footage, and quickly grabs a carrier for Lou.

"Gray?" Mari whimpers, tears rising in her eyes.

I rush to the little girl, grabbing her. "Come here, honey..." I mutter, holding her close to me.

"This way," Fragile says, starting toward an exit as the figures reach the bottom of the stairs.

They raise their weapons, and start to fire.

I duck behind the kitchen counter, holding Mari close to me.

She screams, and grips onto my shirt.

I grit my teeth. "Mari, stay here," I mutter, setting her down.

"Don't leave me..." she whimpers.

"I'll be right back," I tell her, "stay here,"

She nods, hugging her knees to her chest.

Still crouched, I carefully move out from behind the counter. I throw a punch at one of the figures, grabbing his gun and swinging it at someone else. I grab a nearby stool and throw it at someone else. "Mari!" I call out.

She scampers out from behind the counter, running up to me.

I grab her, picking her up, and barrel toward the exit that Fragile left from. I reach the surface, dirt and stones crunching under my bare feet.

In the distance, I see Fragile on a bike, but suddenly see the bike crash and skid to a stop. "No!" I cry out.

Another figure stands behind her, looming over the crawling figure of Fragile on the ground.

My heart is hammering in my chest, knowing I won't reach her in time.

'But, I have to do something...' I tell myself, the fear bubbling into anger and determination.

The figure behind Fragile turns its head to look at me. It tilts its head.

What...no heroics?

I grit my teeth.

"Gray...?" Mari whimpers, grabbing onto my hand, "What's this black stuff?"

I crouch and pick Mari up. "Get on my back, buddy," I say, my voice eerily even, "and hold on tight,"

She looks at me, scared, but nods, letting me help her transfer to my back.

I make sure she's on tight, and lean forward as I dash across the plain to get to Fragile.

Day late and a dollar short...

As I get to Fragile, I hear the screams of an infant, then hear them suddenly stop.

I skid to a stop and see a tiny, unmoving figure, lying face down in the dirt nearby.

Lou.

My heart plummets, and I look at the figure standing nearby.

They're wearing a mask, but even then, I can almost tell it's him.

I grit my teeth, and let out a guttural yell of anger.

The tar that had followed me to where I now stand forms a kind of tidal wave that rears up and smashes down, but moments before contact, the figure is gone.

Something inside me feels like it snaps, like a rubber band breaking.

I gasp, the tar receding. I fall to my knees, tears rising in my eyes.

"Holy shit, Gray!" Sam calls out, abandoning his own bike and rushing over to me and Fragile.

"Lou..." Fragile mutters, trying to crawl toward the little girl.

I cough, starting to feel something bubble up in the back of my throat. I lurch forward, coughing and gagging until a thick, black substance bubbles up, falling to the ground.

"Mari, come here..." Sam mutters, helping the little girl get off of my back.

I shakily grab him. "It was him..." I mutter, but before I can say much more, the world fades to black.