A Home to Fight For: Chapter One

RWBY is the intellectual property of Rooster Teeth.

Reviews are appreciated.

Updated 3/12/18

'Daddy!' A child's voice bellowed through my ears. I jumped awake from the dream, springing myself up from the stiff mattress. Goosebumps littered my skin in the cold concrete room, and the incessant dripping kept grating away at whatever solace from sleep I got. The annoyance only made me too aware.

I was still here - still trapped in this nightmare.

At least I wasn't alone anymore.

Turning over in the bed I shoved the pillow hard against my ears, and said aloud, "Cal, the bucket.". There was no response.

"Calvin, the bucket!" I said again louder this time and upon not hearing a response I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the top bunk where I slept.

The room was mostly empty besides the bunk bed, two busted old lockers, a light hanging from the ceiling that was on, and best not to forget the screeching broken pipe above that leaked into a bucket on the cold concrete floor. Down against the far wall there was a desk where my roommate, Calvin was currently working at. Giving out a sigh I slid off the bed and onto the cold concrete floor that was like the rest of the room barren.

"Cal?" I asked now standing behind my roommate who had his head resting on the desk with balled up papers all around him. I hadn't known Calvin for long but he was usually pretty responsive and unlike my previous roommate didn't snore like a truck driver. Heh... come to think of it... Marvin was a truck driver.

Apparently, the stereotype was true.

"I placed a rag at the bottom of it so the water doesn't make a sound." Came Calvin's muffled response as his head rested down on the desk, his face pressed into his arms that were acting as a pillow.

I shook my head in annoyance "Well the buckets overflowing, and you know it's your turn to go empty it out. Cause I sure as Hell ain't gonna doing it".

My roommate didn't respond but instead sat up and threw a balled-up piece of paper into the overflowing trash bin at the side of the desk.

"My mind's slipping again." He said quietly, his hands coming up to rub at his tired eyes. It was hard not to let out a sigh knowing what he meant.

"It happens to us all" Was my response grasping his shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze.

The Slip, as it was known happened to us all, some worse than others but it was the same for all of them.

"I can't even remember her face anymore and every time I try to remember it's all just a blur. I've been trying to draw her face but every time I do it's all just... wrong!" He yelled in frustration swiping his arms across the desk and pushing everything onto the floor.

All I could do was keep my hand on his shoulder, it wasn't right for me to stop him. Even I at times felt anger whenever the Slip took me.

"I know she had blue eyes like the sky, chestnut hair that smelt like chocolate, a freckled face that was always kind, and a smile that always made me laugh!" His smile faded into pain as he continued on, "But every time I try to remember her face and combine those features all I see is a stranger. I can't remember my own wife's face anymore." He turned to face me, looking up with tears in his eyes.

I wanted to do something more to comfort him, say some encouraging words that would make him smile. But nothing came to mind as I wasn't the type to like being comforted or give comfort to others. Not anymore at least.

I was in the same boat: sympathizing over those taken from him would only make me grieve for my own family. So, focusing on the present, and pushing my own loved ones to the back of my head, including the voice of my youngest. Especially her. I moved on.

"Did you fill out your journal? We have our session with the Scribes this afternoon." I asked with professional flair, grabbing a brown journal from my locker with the name 'Scott. Lanner' written on it. My name. I would try and dampen his sorrow with the present as well.

"I couldn't think of anything." Responded Cal shaking his head, slowly dragging himself out of his sorrows. He flinched when I hit him in the back of the head with my journal. "Ouch!"

"They're due today," I reminded, "the Scribes are going to be pissed if you didn't come up with anything." slapping him on the back of the head once again. That second hit got a reaction out of him as he perked up and jumped out of the chair.

"Fuck you Scott! I can't even remember the face of my bloody wife! How the fuck can they expect me to remember something else from Home!" He shouted, fists clinched and ready to strike.

My teasing ceased as I was in no mood for a black eye. I would have kept arguing with him over the importance of the journal but he was partially correct. Shortly after I, Calvin and the others all arrived on this damned world we were told to write down anything we remembered about Earth, from the important stuff like its history to the less important such as names of songs, etc. Everything and anything from home had to be recorded and logged. It was a pain in the ass, but it served a very important purpose.

The preservation of Earth's knowledge from being lost due to the Slip.

"...And I'm not going to that damned meeting either, so those scribes can shove that journal up their ass!" He yelled earning a laugh from me. In truth I didn't much care for the bastards either as I wasn't generally on their good side.

Going back to my locker I opened it to finish getting dressed in my uniform. It was more militant than what I was used to wearing back home but it sure as Hell made me look like one handsome bastard.

The uniform was composed of two garments: a jet-black uniform with a tan jacket and pants that are worn over it. The outer layer was made of a sturdy material designed to withstand the harsh conditions of this world. The uniform came with a pair of knee-high boots, black gloves, a utility belt with an integrated communications device located over the wearer's right breast and a small knife sheath on the right leg. All in all, it provides adequate protection from the elements.

As for the finer details there were few. A rank insignia was located on the left collar patch with single white bar, the rank of a Lieutenant. On the right collar patch were the Roman numerals XIII, 13. I didn't know it at first but the location of the insignias was inspired by the Nazi SS. That tidbit of information was something that used to make me feel dirty whenever wearing the uniform. But as the time went by I became more accustomed to it.

The last thing I took out from my locker was my black military cap. It was part of the uniform and was required to be worn. Wearing it was mostly pointless as there was no reason to wear it. They never got out in the sun much anyways.

"Fine be that way but when Scribe Nakano comes knocking don't expect me to bail you out… I'm in enough trouble already!" I said closing my locker then picking up the overflowing bucket and heading for the door out of the room. As usual it required a bit of a push to open but besides the loud squeak that the metal door gave out every time it was opened had become a regular noise for me.

Beyond the door, I was greeted with the familiar sight of my home away from home, Silo 13. A massive underground structure in the shape of the interior of a farm silo, with many other rooms and catwalks circling around in many levels. Built with reinforced concrete and metal supports, it was basically a massive underground bunker. Hidden from the world above as was its purpose.

"Morning Scott," a man in a hardhat said to me passing by, another feature of the complex: there were plenty of other men and woman walking about, each going back and forth to where they were needed. Some were like Ted (the man who greeted me): engineers heading down to the lower levels to maintain the generators which kept the lights on. Others were Scribes, and a few were security personnel making their patrol. No matter who they were or what job they had, most were happy and relaxed or at least pretended to be.

Closing the door behind me I walked out towards the railing where, looking over I could see the bottom floor of the Silo where the tiny figures of several people were standing around.

Without so much of a care I took the bucket and dumped it over, aiming directly at the engineer's below, the ones who had yet to fix the broken pipe in my room. A cry from far below was all I needed to hear to know that I had hit my target as my name was screamed out from below.

I laughed at the misery of the poor bastard's below as I placed the bucket down outside my room before moving on. Greeting those who passed, I continued to make my way towards the mess hall, where a glorious feast awaited me and my stomach.

After two years of calling this place home away from home, I pretty much knew everyone from the chief of security to the kitchen staff. After all we are 'all in the same boat', lost at sea, far away from safe harbor, in a world where 'there be monsters'. Upon remembering those two sayings I pulled out my journal, flipped open a new page, and wrote it down for the record. Doing so had become routine for me - every time I remembered something related in any way about home I recorded, sayings and all. This routine was not only part of my life but also part of the lives of all of Silo 13's inhabitants.

Silo 13…

Home to over four hundred lost souls and one of sixteen silos dotted around this alien world, Silo 13 was to be our shelter and deployment until I could return home, until we could all return home. Solidarity: I reminded myself that as castaways, we needed to stick together in order to stay alive in this cruel world.

"Lanner!" a voice from behind called making me pocket my journal and turn around. I was confronted by a man I had hoped to not see. We may all be in the same boat and rely on each other to survive... but that didn't mean we had to like one another.

"Ah, Nakano! Just the man I was hoping to avoid." Putting on my best obviously fake expression that read 'I'd rather kill myself than talk to you' With patronizing respect, I asked what had brought him all the way to my sweet home on level eight?

Nakano was what could be described as a balding old Asian man in his mid-sixties. Well, technically he was in his hundreds... but who the fuck knows considering how everyone arrived on this world. As head Scribe in Silo 13 it was his responsibility to maintain everyone's mental health and keep a record of all knowledge from Earth. He was also a part of 13's leadership, a group of the Silos highest ranking officials. They decided how things were run and who did what only reporting to the Central Committee all the way back in Central, formerly Silo 0.

"Don't play games with me Lanner! You've been violating the curfew and stealing from the kitchens. I'll have you on waste disposal duty for the next three months if I catch you again!" Nakano shouted as those around us stopped and stared. They were all acquaintances and news spread fast, meaning the rest of the Silo would soon hear of my run in with old man Nakano. But at this point I no longer gave a damn - this was the 10th time he's confronted me in such a manner.

I smiled in response and eased my way forward, placing my arms around the old man's neck and playing off his threats: "Nakano, Nakano! Relax, you're getting senile in your old age," I bantered, tapping him on the head with my hand, "Besides, isn't dishing out punishments Hoffmann's job? Come on, let the old soldier do his job while you stay busy being a bookworm okay?" Nakano pushed me away as I dropped my journal into his hands: "This is your last warning Scott! if I catch you again I'll have you permanently placed on waste duty!" With that said, the old man stormed off in the other direction.

"Namaste, Scribe Nakano" I said mockingly with a bow.

"That means hello!" Nakano shouted back, still storming off away from me.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I looked around to see that the crowd had grown to a few dozen people. "What the fuck are ya'll looking at." I announced incredulously to those who had stopped to watch, urging them to go on with their routine lives. They all quickly dispersed and continued what they were doing, leaving me to go about my business. Business meaning 'raiding' the mess hall.

/-/

"Sammy, baby, please! Your Boy is starving here." I pleaded with the lady behind the food counter. Her hefty demeanor becoming more threating by the second as her eyes threatened to pop out of her head.

"No means No! If they catch you again it's my ass that's on the line. Besides, you used up all your weekly ration cards already, so no food for you!" Sammy argued back while threatening me with a ladle. She took a swing at me, missing but managing to knock off my hat in my somewhat successful attempt to duck.

"Ok! OK! I won't ask again." I said to her picking up my cap and crawling back a safe distance until I got back up. "What a friend you are." I muttered dusting myself off and putting my cap back on my head, as I walked over towards a table.

"You know if I was in Sammy's place I wouldn't serve you shit either." said the only other person sitting at the table. My so-called best friend and ex-roommate Marvin Mobuto, taking a deep bite out of hardtack. "Mmm this is some good shit, it's such a shame you can't have any." He mocked.

"Fuck off," I said in response rolling my eyes and sitting down across from him. With nothing else to do I could only stare at his food jealousy while he ate in pure ecstasy. Literally, I would kill to focus on like anything else.

"So, when does your shift start? I didn't think they'd ask you back after all the shit you pulled off last time." asked Marvin changing my focus to literally something else.

"In about an hour. Cori may not like me but she sure as hell doesn't want to train anyone new. She has enough shit on her hands with Yusef's transfer to Silo 12. Besides I was the last person he trained in handling Signals Intelligence, so she basically needs me until Gabi feels better." Talking about my current job made me shake my head in frustration. Basically, all I do is sit at a desk in the communications center and intercept communications whether they be our radio signals or signals from 'them'.

"If someone were to ask me I'd say your skill sets are being wasted up in COMMS. You're better suited working again in security considering your previous occupation back home." Came Marvin's reply as he sucked gravy from his fingers.

I threw my hands in the air and praised Marvin because finally, someone understood my struggle. "Thank you! That's what I've been trying to do for weeks now but Hoffman's all like 'Nein! You cause too much trouble and you lack discipline!'" Impersonating Hoffman's thick German accent earned laughter from Marvin and a few others in the mess hall who had heard my complaint.

Marvin had a fit of coughs due to laughing while mid swallowing. "Ahh… that's some funny shit man, but seriously man now's your chance, Schaefer my new roommate called in sick he won't report in today for his shift. Security needs two volunteers ASAP to do a surface patrol."

My interest peaked at the mention of surface patrol. "Surface patrol? Isn't that usually reserved for Security fuck ups?" I questioned.

"Security fuck ups like you." He said pointing his spoon at me. "Think about it: you have prior security training, you're universally hated by almost everyone in the Silo, and you also get to go outside. What's not to love!" He listed out as I listened.

What's not to love? "How about not getting eaten by goddamn monsters." I pushed back referring to the monsters that pretty much ruled most of this world.

"The Grimm? Relax: they have a harder time detecting us unlike this world's native population. According to the eggheads, they have to control their emotions in fear that they may attract the Grimm. We don't have to deal with that shit, they don't sense our emotions… Go figure" And with that reminder, the prospect of going up to security and volunteering became more plausible. I would still run the risk of being eaten if I ran into one of those creatures. But at the same time risking my skin could help patch up a bit of my reputation. Plus, those who go up top get extra ration cards.

"Fine, I guess I'll head up and see Hoffman about this job." I said to Marvin getting up from the table and heading towards the exit.

"Hey if you, uh, do happen to get eaten... can I have your stuff?" Marvin called out only for my response to be flicking him off.

/-/

It only took a ten-minute elevator ride to reach the security level, the closest level to the surface and home to Commander Erwin Hoffman, Silo 13's head of security and overall hard ass. He was also part of 13's leadership along with old man Nakano and Administrator Torrick. Together the three made up Silo 13's Triumvirate. The stations governing body that reported only to the Central Committee which literally controlled every Silo and operation we had on this world. Essentially, they ran the show while the rest of us did their bidding in the vague promise of finding a way home.

Walking through the security level gave me a sense of Déjà vu as I was greeted by former colleagues, some of whom were not so pleased to see me. But I paid them little mind as I made my way through the level and to the security offices where Hoffman was.

Approaching the door to his private office was a tad bit intimidating: After all Hoffman did hate my guts. I waited patiently, fiddling with my thumbs after knocking on the door. There was no response but as I turned around I could see all the other security officers peering out at me from their cubicles. They looked nervous as if I was about to set off a bomb and ruin their day. Giving the door one last knock I finally heard a response.

"Come in!"

I cautiously opened the door to the Commander's office and stepped inside. It was not sparsely decorated like most of the silos private rooms and offices. Being the office of one of the Silo's leadership it was more decorative than the others.

In the officer was a finely carved wooden desk, a fancy red carpet, along with a few nice leathered chairs. A large book shelf stood behind the desk adorned with many books and files. Along the wall was a large painted mural of Earth Sitting. But all attention quickly returned to grand chair behind the desk where Commander Erwin Hoffman, an aging soldier from a time before I was born sat.

And intimidating figure, the Commander was not one to be trifled with. His face was grizzled and scarred, a sign of his experience in warfare. He sported a version of the same uniform that all security personnel with the exception of an added trench coat and a silver star on his collar.

The Commander was currently face down and at work filling out a document of some sort. His aged eyes never leaving his work, not even gracing me with a glance of acknowledgment.

"Get out."

His word was final, but I couldn't take no for an answer.

"Sir, if you'll just listen to me I…"

He perked his head up and stared me down with his eyes, pointing his pen at me with all the authority he had.

"No, I told you that I never wanted to see your face again on this level. Apparently, that didn't get through too your hollow skull." His eyes meet mine with a challenge and against my better judgement I pushed forward.

"Just here me out, ok?" I said approaching his desk where he only shifted in response, harsh eyes gazing upon me. "I'm here to make amends".

Hoffman rolled his eyes and put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, "You have ten seconds".

I let lose my pre-rehearsed response slash apology. "Sir, I would like to offer my apology by risking my life and volunteering for Surface Patrol, Sir!" It was a gamble but one that I hoped would work. I was staring straight ahead at ease towards the bookshelves behind Hoffman. In the corner of my eyes, however, I could see him straighten his sitting posture.

The Commander spoke, breaking his dreadful silence: "If that was an attempt at an apology then it was surely lacking."

My shoulders fell slightly in the face of my failure. Well at least I tried, guess it's back to communications for me.

"But..." Hoffman continued giving me the slightest taste of hope, "I will allow it." Was that a yes? I nearly jumped up in the air in happiness, my only visible sign of joy being the smile on my face.

"Thank you, Commander, Sir! I won't let you down!" I beamed giving Hoffman a crisp salute which he did not return. Score one for Scott! Establishment zero!

"Yes, yes, I can see your absolutely thrilled." He said with a devious smirk, handing me my approval document that would allow me to go outside. He was probably hopping I'd get eaten by Grimm that was the only reason I could think of him approving my request.

"...Now get the fuck out of my office."

Like a frightened deer in a lion's den, I quickly exited the office and stood back outside where a crowd of Security officers had huddled around. They all likely thought I was turned down but they all groaned in despair when I raised my document in the air, walking through their ranks with a triumphant announcement.

"I'm back on the force bitches!"

/-/

"Equipment check!"

I felt myself be padded down and my vest along with my backpack lift as to check that it was securely harnessed. My holster was fastened securely to my right thigh, my shock baton attached to my utility belt, and my semi-automatic shotgun loaded with slug rounds was securely slinged to my upper body.

The last piece of gear to put on was my environmental mask. I ran my fingers across it as a painful memory and reminder of how I got here crossed my mind.

The smoke tearing into my longs as the cord to my oxygen tank was cut. The flames ever encroaching towards my pinned body, the heat burning at my flesh as I…

I cut myself off from the memory and placed the mask on, tightening it then putting on my helmet and doing the same to it. For a briefest of moments, I had forgotten how to breathe and was suffocating once again.

"You're all good." Said my patrol partner, Kevin I think his name was. Like me he was volunteering for Surface Patrol, but he was a full-time security officer, who unlike me hadn't been kicked off the force.

I patted Kevin down and checked his equipment was also secured. It was. "You're in the green. Hey Captain, we're ready to go!" I shouted back to another security officer who was safely behind the silo's second secure door.

Kevin and I were in a rectangular shaped contamination room that sat between the door to the world beyond and the door that lead into the silo proper. Both the two secure doors were about one foot thick and strong enough to keep the Grimm and any unwanted intruders out.

"Roger that, opening the door in five..." The Captain's voice crackled over the speaker. The lights above us began to flash red and the loud squeak of the doors locks retracting could be heard. Next came the painful screech of the door itself opening towards us. It was a horrible sound but one that represented freedom, for once the screeching stopped I could see the cave tunnel to outside world.

"You two are clear to go, good luck!"

Kevin was the first to move forward, cautiously I should say as he moved slowly with his shotgun raised. Even though the silo had exterior camera's that made us alert of any Grimm in the silo's outer entrance, we still had to be ready for anything.

We started moving swiftly through the tunnel of the cave that was purposely made to look like an abandoned mining shaft so as to ward off nosy locals. What locals would be doing all the way out here from their nearest settlement was beyond me. This reasoning was likely why the Central Committee decided to build Silo 13 where it was now, far enough away from any settlements but close enough to intercept their communications and strengthen our own coverage.

At the end of the tunnel was an unassuming wooden door, with rusty bits, and covered with encroaching fauna. This was it, the final barrier to the outside world. No words were needed between Kevin and I as he unlocked the small lock on the door and pushed it open.

My free left hand came up to cover my eyes as I was blinded by nature's night light, the Moon. Kevin was quicker to recover and gave me a slight push that reminded me to move. I heard the door close behind us and as my eyes recovered I looked upon this world's most defining feature, a shattered moon.

When I first arrived on this world it was the shattered moon that greeted me. My first gaze upon it almost two years ago shocked me to my core. From then on, I knew I wasn't home anymore. Earth was far behind me, and Remnant was ahead.

"Scott?" Kevin's voice muffled by his mask brought my mind out of the clouds and to the present.

"It's nothing, we should keep moving." He nodded and we moved from the tunnel entrance out into a small grassy opening in the middle of a forest. There was little need of flashlights as the moonlight lit up the forest around us. It had the added benefit of helping us see obstacles on our patrol path, especially Grimm.

While surface patrol run-ins with Grimm were rare, when encounters did occur it was highly advised that one should... as Monty Python put it... 'Run away! Run away!'.

My thoughts began to dwell on the movies and oh, how I missed them, especially Star Wars. The new one was only a few weeks away from the premiere before I...

"What are you thinking about?" Kevin asked as we patrolled around the surface exterior of the silo. His question made me realize that we had been walking around for nearly ten minutes in total silence. Kevin was a good guy, quiet but very nice, he was also an American like me and from around my same time, give or take seven years. I was bored and Kevin had provided an opening, after all a good conversation was a good time killer.

"Star Wars," I answered honestly as I stepped over a log and walked next to him.

"Star Wars? As in 'Luke I am your father'?" he looked at me puzzled, before chuckling incredulously "...What the hell got you thinking about that?"

"I was just thinking about movies then remembered that I hit the dirt a few weeks before the new Star Wars movie hit theaters. Talk about shit luck."

Kevin gave a small chuckle "Trust me man you didn't miss much, the Prequels were shit. If anything, you got lucky before seeing that disaster of a trilogy." My head spun: The Prequel trilogy? Why was he...oh: he must think that Death came for me before him.

"Nah man, I'm talking about the Sequels, the films after the Prequels."

"You mean the originals? Wait I thought you were from the 2000's, not the 80's." Came his confused response.

"What?! No, I left in 2017. I'm talking about the new trilogy, the one after the Prequels." This caused Kevin to stop in his tracks and force me to turn around.

"Wait… WHAT? They had a Sequel trilogy to the originals?" Came his shocked response to the news he had just heard. I only gave him nod as I witnessed the man completely unwind. "What the fuck! When?!"

The poor bastard didn't know a thing, oh this was going to be fun. "Yeah, Disney bought the rights to Star Wars from Lucas. The first new film came out in 2015."

"Disney!? Holy shit... Disney?! Are they better than the Prequels?" Kevin was practically jumping up and down like a child overjoyed with a new toy.

"Yeah, and Han Solo dies." I spoiled for him.

"N-N-Nooooooo!" he shouted falling to his knees and doing his best Darth Vader impression. I had just ruined that man's innocence and his perfect reaction left me laughing so hard that it hurt. My laughter vanished however, and fear took over as I noticed the leaves in a tall bush about ten meters behind us rustle. The words Grimm were the first to leave my mouth and just as quickly as I had said those words I had shouldered my shotgun and flicked the safety off.

Kevin cut the act short, turned around in a speed representative of our security training: ready in a crouched firing position with his shotgun also aimed at the same bush. I carefully moved behind Kevin so that I could grab him by his vest in case the Grimm charged out of the bush. However, what did come 'charging' out of the bush was a person, clearly not a Grimm. But that didn't stop me from pressing slightly down on my trigger and nearly shooting the local. Kevin must have nearly done the same as he fell backwards raising his shotgun, expecting that he was about to be pounced on.

"Shit!" I yelled as the local clenched its side and looked towards us before leaning up against a tree.

"What the fuck do we do now?!" My partner hissed aloud clearly understanding the situation both of us were now put in, detection. Neither of us could move as our brains worked overtime to make a snap decision. Literally, rule number one of rules not to break was exposing our presence to Remnants population, cordially known as the Remnant. The security manual was very clear on what to do if discovered while out on patrol.

'Under no circumstances is our presence to be revealed. If discovered while on surface patrol, the appropriate action is to dispose of the discoverer by lethal means.'

That's what we were instructed to do, we are supposed to kill this person before us. But I wasn't a killer, I couldn't possibly kill a person.

The Remnant had fallen to the ground and was now leaning up against the tree still clutching its side tightly with its left hand. It was then that I noticed all the red, all the blood. Something overcame me and soon my previous work mentality before arriving on this world kicked in and I rushed to aid the local, slinging my shotgun behind my back.

I ignored Kevin's shouts from behind as I knelt next to the figure. "Please help..." came the weakened voice of a woman. She was looking up at me with her silver eyes. I was entranced by them, they were beautiful, she was a keeper. "...Please..." she pleaded again reaching out towards me with her right hand.

Without thinking I took her hand into my own, speaking words of comfort. "It's going to be alright, you're safe now," I reassured her and smiled under my mask, "We're going to help you." I made sure to make that message of intent clear to Kevin who had up until now been shouting at me to back away.

"Thank… you." she said smiling at me then wincing in pain. I still remembered who I was before I came here, it was my job to save lives, not take them. I removed my helmet and put my hands behind my head to remove my mask.

"Scott! Don't you dare remove that mask! You'll risk contamination!" Kevin warned still behind me and still presumably ready to kill the injured woman. The reason we wore masks was not that the air was unbreathable or toxic but because we were not native to the environment. This meant that we were more prone to be becoming life-threateningly sick due to germs, diseases, etc. Remnants version of the common cold was to us a flip of a coin on whether we lived or died.

But fuck that, I was taught that an injured person reacted better when seeing a human face. I unfastened my mask and removed it with slightest hesitation. The air was fresh nothing like the recycled air in the silo, this air was free. Placing my mask aside I removed my backpack and retrieved my medical kit meant to treat our own injuries, not those of Remnant. Kevin let out an anxious sigh as he scanned our environment for any other witnesses or threats, not approving but not stopping me.

While going through my kit I felt something nudge against me. I looked to see that it was the head of the injured woman, her hood having fallen off to reveal black hair, dyed red at the tips. Her skin was very pale, almost unnaturally so, at first, I thought it was just the moonlight.

"Hey can you, hear me?" She groaned in response and opened her eyes "I'm going to lay you on the grass now, please stay still" I instructed her, she only gave a meek response. I picked her up and laid her down on the grass. Kevin was saying something from behind me, but I paid him no attention. My sole priority was my patient.

I removed my black field gloves and put on the blue latex gloves included in the kit. Returning my attention to the woman I removed her hand away from her injury to check it, it wasn't good. She had a severe deep cut on her left side, from below her armpit in the axilla, going just under her left breast and ending in her abdomen.

She had been using her cloak to apply pressure to her wound and stop the bleeding, but there was a lot of blood. Due to the size of the wound I was worried that once I removed the cloak, I would not be fast enough to apply the new dressing. If only Kevin would help me!

"Kevin!"

When I removed her cloak, there wasn't as much blood pouring out as I thought there should be. This meant that she received this injury quite some time ago. She had lost a lot of blood, which meant time. I applied the dressing as quickly as I could, then added a second layer when blood seeped through the first.

Confident that I had stopped most of the bleeding I moved my focus to the woman's face. It's what I expected, her face was cold and sweaty, eyes darting around nearly shut. Her words were even less clear and more worrisome.

"Oz… I need to… find"

These were all the signs that she was going into shock. The situation was urgent, her life was on the line.

"Kevin! Get over here, she's going into shock!" I yelled to my partner not once taking my eyes of my patient.

"...have… to… warn… them," her eyes drifted shut.

"KEVIN!" I shouted again this time looking back at him. He was now standing with his hand on his radio, speaking to someone. He had reported the situation into command, I already knew what they had told him. Anger and frustration seethed through me. Bastards!

"Scott." Came his low somber response. He walked towards me and knelt by my side, he only gave the woman a single glance. "Command says protocol is clear, we… we can't help her." I couldn't look at him, I could only look at the life I knew we could save. All we had to do was bring her with us.

Kevin had broken protocol when he removed his own helmet and mask, but that was as far as he would go. I could tell he hated Commands decision as well but unlike me he couldn't bring himself to save a life. I wonder if she can hear us? I thought looking down at her. I wonder If she knows that they're, no we're going to let her die.

"Get out of here, I'll take care of her. I'll take responsibility... I promise to make it painless." Said Kevin trying to take the guilt of ending a life from me and onto himself. In some cases what he was doing would be highly courage's and respectful but to me it was disgusting. A violation of my patients trust in me and an abandonment of my old duty. No, I couldn't let Kelvin be the one to kill her, that burden had to fall on me.

"No, I'll do it," I answered picking up her hand and holding it with my own.

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes, just leave me alone with her. Ok?" It was a simple request one that Kevin felt obligated to accept. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he whispered a quick prayer asking for God's forgiveness, and in a sense, for mine. Then getting up from his knees he left my sight. I still knew that he was likely still close by.

"I'm sorry," I began, bringing her cold bloody hand to my cheek and kissing it. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Years of frustration and anger that had built up since my time on Remnant began to spill over. Tears began dropping from my eyes. I hadn't cried in a long time not since I was a child, my father told me men didn't cry but that was a load of bullshit.

"It's… ok, please don't cry," Came her voice sweet and gentle just like my own mother. Her eyes were open once again, evidently her last strength of life. But that just made everything so much harder. "Can you please… get my… agh… get my wallet?" She had moved her free hand to her side where a pocket in her dress was.

I stopped crying fulfilling her first request and fulfilled her second by taking out her wallet. Her command was simple: "Show me." I opened it up. Where the picture ID usually lived, there was instead a small photo of two young girls. One a carbon copy of the woman below me and another of a slightly older girl with purple eyes and hair the color of the sun. I took it out and placed it in her hands, then helped move it towards her face where she could see.

"Yang… Ruby…, Mommy's sorry…" Were the final words from her mouth as her fingers grasp on the photo loosened and she gave out her last breath before closing her eyes and embracing a forever sleep.

I don't know when I began crying again but when I finally stopped I picked up the photo of the woman's two kids. They were so similar to my own two little girls. But unlike her I never got a chance to say goodbye or have my last thoughts be of them.

"I never said goodbye," I placed the woman in my arms and hugged her. "Debby, Petra…, Daddies sorry."

I had never cried so hard in my life.

Thank you for reading the first chapter of A Home to Fight For. This story is mainly about a man struggling to find his way back home to his family on Earth and coming to terms with his new reality. This story may not be to the liking of some as it is about an OC. I hope however that you can stick with and give this story a shot.

I know that some of you are confused by some serious questions brought up in this story. Questions such as how people from Earth came to Remnant, why Kevin and Scott are from different periods of time, and how the people of Earth on Remnant came to organize themselves and what impact they will have on the world of Remnant. All these questions will be answered as the story progresses.

Reviews are always appreciated and please favorite and follow if you have enjoyed this story.