Welcome back, all!

Back by (sort of) popular demand, Sarah and Jay (and a few of their friends) have returned. After a short break from the action, duty calls once again. While a sequel wasn't exactly planned, and since I've been playing the hell out of The Division 2, I think it's only fair that we continue on.

I hope this story gets a much smoother start than the previous.

I'm also learning the ropes of FanFiction, so hopefully the chapters will be better constructed.

Anyway, that's enough dawdling. On with the show!

Center Boulevard

Long Island City, Queens

Three Months after Manhattan

*BZZZ BZZZ*

*BZZZ BZZZ*

Slightly annoyed by being awakened, I clumsily reach for the lit up phone on my nightstand.

*BZZZ BZZ-tap*

"Hello?" I say groggily, still half asleep.

"Sarah, finally." Says a familiar voice. "I've been calling you for ten minutes now!"

"Faye?" I reply, slightly more alert now. "Wha….what's going on?"

"I can't explain much over the phone, but I have a contact in Washington, an Agent, who sent out a distress beacon last night. Things are still bad there. I was in contact with her until the signal was lost about an hour ago. I need to find what happened and I need your and Jay's help."

"Yeah…" I quietly mutter, moving the phone away and turning on the light. "That's a completely reasonable justification for calling your friend at two in the morning."

As I pull myself from Jay's gentle grasp and sit up, my phone screen lights up again and reveals Faye's picture on the caller I.D. She wears an eyepatch and a confident grin on her face.

"Dima and I are at the Lincoln Tunnel Checkpoint." The phone says. I steal a glance at Jay, who pulls the covers over her head for protection from the light. "Wake up yourself and Jay, pack some bags, and meet us here." I bring the phone back to my ear. "See if Kelly can tag along, too. D.C.'s JTF is just a skeleton crew, and we'll need all the support we can get."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Just give us a few. We'll be there soon."

Faye hangs up before I can ask any more questions. Sitting up further, I place a hand on Jay's shoulder.

"Jay." I shake her a few times, but she pretends to still be asleep.

"Babe, I saw you move the blanket. Get up."

"Mmmmpf." My best friend-turned-girlfriend grumbles. She rolls onto her back and pushes the covers off, revealing her wearing one of my '30 Seconds Out' shirts that simply reads "STOP WHINING" in large, bold letters.

"What?" She asks sleepily, eyes still closed.

"Faye just called." I stand and stretch. "Something about needing help...trouble in D.C." I try to explain through a loud yawn.

"Nooooooo." She wails tiredly. "I'm too comfortable and you're so warm." She holds out a hand towards me. "Come baaaack."

I shake my head, tying my hair into a ponytail.

"Maybe follow your own advice?" I ask, nodding to the shirt when she opens her eyes. "And wake up while you're at it."

Dropping her hand in defeat, Jay sits up and rubs her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past two." I say with a deep southern accent.

"Is there no end to your movie and T.V. quotes?" She asks, taking off the shirt and throwing it at me.

"Nope." I grin.

"Secret Window, right?" She asks, but I don't answer. After a moment, Jay sitting there shirtless becomes slightly mesmerising. Her knife wound has healed well, leaving behind a scar that becomes pleasantly distracting during any tender moments we have. She hates when I kiss her there, and more often than not it only makes me do it more.

"Ahem." She grunts, raising a brow and pointing to her eyes. I stick out my tongue in reply and toss her my phone.

"Call Kelly. See what she's up to."

As Jay messes with the phone, I leave to find our old Sea Bags and start a pot of coffee. Out in the kitchen, I pick up pieces of the phone conversation.

"Kelly! Hi, it's Jay. Good, you're awake."

…

"Oh, you know. Can't complain. How about you?"

…

Bringing two cups with me, I return to the bedroom.

"Good. Hey listen...what are you doing right now? Anything important?"

I pass Jay one of the coffees, placing mine on the dresser and start digging into the closet.

"Perfect. Faye just called us about something going on down in D.C.."

…

"Uh huh."

…

"No. She isn't the type to wake someone up at two a.m. for a Koby's run."

…

"Oh it's happened."

I turn to look at Jay questioningly. She simply mouths "Nothing." to me with a big smile.

"More than once, yeah." Jay says to Kelly with a giggle. I roll my eyes at the memory and continue packing. "So what do you think? You in?"

...

"Awesome!"

...

"Yeah we're packing now. Tell Benitez it's Division business. Ask around in your team, too. The more, the merrier."

…

In the very back of our closet I reach the gun locker, opening it to find Jay's ACR, MK14 and .38 Special on one side and my M249 SAW, M870 and M1911 .45 on the other. I place Jay's weapons in their respective cases first, leaving the revolver in its holster. The cases lean against the dresser as I go back for mine, only to stop when I find an oddly familiar knife hidden where Jay's things were. I pick it up, running my thumb over the Winged Dagger etched into the handle. In the etching, I eye a tiny spot of what looks like dried blood. Then it hits me.

"This knife was Kenner's!" I nearly shout. "He stabbed Jay with it, then she stabbed him. This handle was the first thing I saw upon coming out of my near blackout. Did Jay keep it as some kind of trophy?"

"Okay...Yeah. We'll see you soon." Jay snaps me out of my train of thought.

*tap*

"Oh, you already packed for me?" Jay asks, standing in front of her weapons. "How sweet of you."

"You kept this?" I ask, turning to face her. "Why?"

"Why not?" She replies simply. "If you think about it, that knife saved the world...It saved you."

"Oh stop." I say, trying to wipe off the blush, only to get a kiss from Jay that makes it worse.

Quickly dressing, Jay begins packing her Sea Bag and Go-Bag. She takes over the packing, so I get dressed myself, opting for my usual black jeans and boots. A stubborn spot of blood on one of the pant legs makes me shudder slightly, but I shake it off. For the finishing touch, my blacked out U.S. flag ball cap, shades resting on the brim and ponytail out the back. Finishing our coffee and strapping on our sidearms, we gather our stuff and head for the door.

"We'll be back soon." I say silently to the door as I turn the lock.

"This brings back memories." Jay huffs as we cram ourselves into the elevator.

"Like?"

"Shipping out."

"Hmm. I see it now." I reply as the elevator closes. I starts to go down, but stops on level two. The doors slide open to reveal the LandLady, who looks at the two of us with a mixed expression of concern and confusion.

"Going down?" I ask.

"I'll take the next one." She replies slowly as the doors close again.

Reaching the street, we find my '98 Chevy 1500 patiently waiting. While she's still missing some paint and there are rust spots, everything else is squared away. I drop my bags into the back, looking up at the apartment building one last time. Jay loads our weapons onto the floor under the backseats as I get in and start the truck.

"On the clock again." Jay says as I pull away from the curb.

Emerging from the Queens Midtown Tunnel shows just how much New York has changed in the last two years. Abandoned cars have been removed from the streets, garbage cleared, and bodies buried. JTF patrols still roam the streets, however none of them seem to dread rounding the next corner of their route. They seem to be less fearful of their surroundings. Despite the early hour, civilians can occasionally be seen wandering around. A group has gathered in Times Square, admiring the lights advertising for things that almost seemed other worldly.

I still remember many a firefight we lived through on these very streets just two short years ago. The streets of the city I call home. I often wonder if I'll be able to look at Manhattan the same way ever again, what with how many people we've killed. How many times we could've died. But it wasn't all bad.

I glance over at Jay, who taps away at her phone, likely talking to Kelly or Faye.

If my experiences in this city have taught me anything, it's the importance of saying what you need to say while you have the chance. That you really don't appreciate what you have until it's taken away. Or at least in my case, nearly taken away.

"I was lucky. Very lucky."