Entry for the Last Ship Sailing Competition

Prompts:

(AU) Apocalypse

(object) newspaper

(word) precious

(action) running away

(action) playing a card game

Bonus Prompts:

(dialogue) "How much longer?"

(idiom) busy as a bee

(word) starry

(object) lantern

Entry for the Greek Mythology Competition

Zeus: Write about someone who is a leader.

Entry for the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Defense: Task #1: Write about a protective person or animal or anything else that can choose to protect someone or something else

Offense: Task 3#a: Write about physical trauma being inflicted on another person.

Extra Prompts:

(word) escape

(action) whispering in someone's ear

Entry for the September Event: Back to School

(object) Calendar

(dialogue) "My mum says I'm special on the inside."

Entry for the Gringotts Prompt Bank

(6050 Words)

The World In Ruins

There is nothing worth having that can be obtained by nuclear war - nothing material or ideological - no tradition that it can defend. It is utterly self-defeating.

George Wald

Marcus Flint stared at the calendar hanging on the wall of his sleeping quarters with annoyance before he grabbed a pen and drew a cross into the square that presented the current date. A short look at the calendar told him that it had been three weeks now, and it only increased his frustration, which ultimately led him to the question why he hadn't thrown this damned thing away by now.

He hated this bunker, he hated being locked in there, and he missed starry nights and bright summer days on which the sun warmed his skin. But on the other hand, he was sure that he would hate being killed by radiation even more than sitting down here and staring at his calendar.

A few hundred meters above them, World War III was raging, and rumour had it that their sensors were constantly reporting that smaller nuclear missiles were detonating about forty kilometer away from their bunker.

Maybe Marcus should be grateful that he'd been transferred into the bunker shortly before the war had broken out – before, he'd been stationed close to one of the cities that had been attacked first, and he would probably be dead now, just like all his other comrades.

But he was sitting down here, in this safe haven made of concrete and steel, having mixed feelings about his escape from a horrible death.

All days were the same for him and all the other lucky soldiers, doctors and civilians who'd managed to flee into the bunker which had been opened to the public the minute they'd been informed about the danger. They were mostly isolated, only a few people had access to the control room, and so they could only guess what was going on at the surface. It was frustrating for Marcus, and everyone else, and he didn't know how long he would be able to keep his nerves in check. Some guys called it 'bunker blues', and it came in several different ways; everyone reacted differently to the isolation, the lack of sunlight and fresh air that didn't come filtered through the ventilation system.

Deciding that he definitely needed some fun today, he left his sleeping quarters and made his way to the ready room – which really was only a conference room with two additional sofas – knowing that most of his comrades would be spending their time there. After the commissary, it was the main place in the bunker where you would always find someone to talk with when you needed company.

OoO

As Marcus entered the ready room slash conference room slash the only room with a decent TV, he was met by cheers from some of the guys who were in his group. They were sitting at the closer end of the long table, and before he could really say anything, they'd forced him to join their poker round.

"I hate it when you're trying to destroy my grumpy mood," Marcus growled at them as he grabbed his two cards and threw some chips into the pot after inspecting them.

"It's always a pleasure, my friend." Graham winked while placing the first three cards on the table. Marcus was sure that without them and their jokes, he surely would have lost his mind a long time ago. But as they were all sharing their fears and frustrations, being in the same situation – none of them knew what had happened to their families – they were able to understand each other.

They were just in the hottest phase of the game when the door was suddenly ripped open and their direct superior officer, Stan Rogers, strode into the room, causing them all to drop everything and jump from their chairs to stand at attention.

"Relax, men. We just had contact with the command center, and were given a number of instructions. They want us to send a few teams outside to search for survivors that are likely to fully recover with medical treatment. As the area around us was only hit by smaller missiles, it's a lot safer than in other regions, but I still won't force anyone to go. Any questions?"

"Uh, Sir, will you be leading the teams, Sir?" someone asked from the other side of the room.

"One of the teams, yes. But Lieutenant Bell, who should be here any minute, will be in charge of the whole operation. Please think closely about volunteering. It's a risk, and you should be aware of it."

Marcus had never heard of this Lieutenant Bell, and he decided that he didn't care how tough or experienced this guy was, nothing and nobody would be able to make him go outside. For all he knew, there could be bombings at any minute, and he really wasn't too keen to die today.

Suddenly, a young woman in military uniform entered the room, and the other officer saluted to her before gesturing around. "Lieutenant Bell, I just informed the men about the mission."

Marcus blinked a few times, trying to process the information, and feeling like he was failing. They were supposed to volunteer to search the highly contaminated surface and endanger themselves to see if there were any people to save with a woman leading them? He could literally feel the slap that Grandma Flint would be giving him upon hearing such thoughts, but he didn't care. Female officers had never done anything to convince him that they deserved to serve, and he surely wouldn't walk out into his death just to try and see if this chick was different.

Crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, he let his gaze wander over her appearance, taking in every detail. Her combat boots were gleaming in the light from the lamps, her camouflage uniform was free from creases, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, giving her a rather casual look. The rank insignias on her shoulder were touched by the end of a brown french braid that kept her hair out of her face... And what a beautiful face it was. She didn't appear to be wearing any makeup, and she also looked as tired as everyone else in the room, but still Marcus felt like she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her lips had a certain curve that made them look kissable, and her brown eyes were gleaming with enthusiasm.

Inwardly slapping himself, Marcus forced his mind back into reality. They were soldiers and it didn't matter if someone was beautiful – the only thing that was important was that the person was a skilled leader that held the trust of the men serving under him.

Marcus gulped as he realised that she seemed to have registered him giving her a once over – her eyebrow was slightly cocked, and she was taking a quick look at the name tag sewn onto his chest. It couldn't mean anything good, and her expression told him that she was about to do something he wouldn't like.

"Mister Flint, you look like you could use some fresh air!"

He blinked in confusion, then cleared his throat and hastily replied: "Uh… no? I'm not suicidal."

"Well, the way you were staring at me, Sergeant, just made me assume that you were asking yourself if you wanted to have a little walk with me and the boys." She smiled, and Marcus knew that she'd reversed the 'only volunteers' order just for him. Maybe he shouldn't have been looking so smug while examining her appearance – women never liked that, and this one also had the authority to make him pay for that. At least he hadn't been dumb enough to undress her with his gaze.

"Well, uh, Ma'am, I'm actually as busy as a bee, you know... there are these reports that I need to write and..."

He stopped talking as he realised how pathetic he sounded, and he tried to stay calm, even though he could see that she was looking triumphant. In that moment he made a mental note that he should probably pay extra attention to what he was doing or saying – she didn't appear to be one of the officers that he could joke around with.

"Actually, thinking about it, Ma'am, a walk probably isn't such a bad idea," he reluctantly stated, barely able to hold back a sigh of defeat.

"Great." She beamed at him before letting her gaze wander around the whole room. "Anyone want to join Sergeant Flint and me? Weather report says that it's a rather pleasant day today."

Graham and five other soldiers were raising their hands, and Marcus was glad that they weren't leaving him alone with this.

"Good, gentlemen. Get your gear ready, we'll meet in an hour. Dismissed!"

OoO

One hour later, they stood in the decontamination chamber, pulling on the heavy protection suits and getting their equipment ready. Marcus felt nervousness course through him as he placed his gun into his thigh holster, but like everyone else, he didn't show it. The atmosphere in the chamber was rather calm and professional; anything else would have distracted them from preparing properly. Everything needed to be in perfect condition – a suit that wasn't sitting the way it was supposed to could lead to contamination, and nobody was too keen to die from radiation.

After some time, everyone was ready, and Lieutenant Bell slung the strap of her assault rifle around her before turning towards them.

"Okay, teams. Montague, Higgins, Moore, you'll go with Rogers. Jenkins, Towers, Flint, with me."

Before saying his name, she'd turned towards him, and a small, slightly amused smile had played around her lips when she'd assigned him to her team. He just hoped that she wouldn't leave him behind somewhere.

Grinning at the officer, Marcus said: "Oh, I was so hoping for that. Did someone bring sandwiches?"

"I don't think this is the time to joke around, Sergeant," Lieutenant Bell scolded him while untangling the straps of her oxygen mask.

"My mum says I'm special on the inside, Lieutenant – I can't keep my mouth shut." Marcus smirked before pulling his mask over his face and allowing Graham to secure the hood of the suit over it so it could be sealed.

As soon as everyone was ready, the bunker-side door of the chamber was shut, and then the other door was slowly pushed open by a hydraulic system. Marcus could feel shivers running down his back; they had no idea what would await them out there, how the world would look now.

First, they were walking up a long ramp leading through a long tunnel, Bell leading the way with determined steps that impressed Marcus more than he wanted to admit. If he was honest with himself, he was a little bit scared of seeing the destruction that the bombs had caused. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen death, but it would be the first time he'd been in complete safety while others had died not far away from him.

But Bell hadn't shown any sign of fear or nerves, and the way she was leading them towards the surface showed off her confidence, and he told himself that he would keep an eye on her. In the distance, he could see a faint light shining into the tunnel, and his heart started to beat faster.

OoO

Marcus didn't really know what he'd expected to see on the surface, and though he'd known that it would mostly be destruction, he was still shocked by the sight that was offered to them.

The whole world seemed to have turned into a grey, dusty and burning landscape of destroyed buildings. As far as he could see there were only ruins, some still smoking; the sky was as grey as the landscape, and pillars of smoke rose into it.

But what really scared Marcus as they stood there for a moment, gazing over the site, was the silence. Except for his own breathing, he could hear nothing; not a single bird was singing, no breeze moved the dust, and there were no sounds caused by humans.

There was only silence, and this silence was making him feel uncomfortable. Shifting slightly, making some small stones move under his feet – the sound was really loud to him – he looked over to his comrades, only to find that they were just as taken aback by what they were seeing.

After a very long moment that seemed like eternity for Marcus, Lieutenant Bell cleared her throat noisily and stated: "We should probably get started. Rogers, to the east. We will take the west."

"Aren't we going to grab a vehicle?" Marcus asked while she took binoculars from one of the pockets attached to her suit, taking a quick look into the distance.

"There are two at the ready to drive to our position if we found survivors. We don't have enough fuel for a casual drive around the block. So we'll do it old school – by foot," she yelled over her shoulder, and he could hear in her voice, even though it was muffled, that she was grinning.

"Oh damn, I never saw this shit on the recruiting poster!" Marcus grumbled as the two groups of soldiers parted and started to walk into the two opposite directions they'd determined beforehand. He wasn't really keen to spend more time than necessary out there, and walking around in these depressing ruins definitely wasn't his idea of a nice stroll.

But as it wasn't his decision to make, he followed the others, trying not to think of what had happened in this area in the last three weeks. Marcus could still recall how it had looked when he'd been on his way to the bunker before the first attacks – he'd been driven through a lovely town full of life, surrounded by wide fields, lush meadows and mountains. Kids had played on the streets, laughing as they threw balls at each other; some had waved at the truck filled with soldiers and had chased it with their karts. Their happy faces, illuminated by the bright sunlight, were still vivid in Marcus' memory, and it made him feel like he'd swallowed rocks. Heavy guilt was running through him – it didn't feel right to be able to walk around while so many innocent people had died.

"How much longer? Are we there yet?!" Marcus exclaimed after some minutes of silent marching past half-destroyed buildings and gazing through binoculars in the hope of spotting a sign that someone had survived the bombings.

Lieutenant Bell briefly looked over her shoulder, sounding a little bit annoyed as she replied: "Sergeant, it doesn't seem like you're taking this seriously."

"I'm taking this serious Ma'am. I'm only joking around so I won't lose my fucking mind while wandering through the ash of what could once have been people!"

He nearly walked into Bell as she suddenly stopped and turned around; even through the mask he could see her brown eyes and the hurt that was showing in them. She was staring up at him, and he was torn between feeling intimidated and protective – he had the feeling that she didn't really need someone to look out for her, but she also looked a little bit fragile to him in this moment.

"Sergeant, do you seriously think that you're the only one here who is trying to stay calm at this sight?" she asked sternly, pressing her hands into her hips while visibly trying to control herself.

"Sorry, Ma'am."

They looked each other in the eyes for a long moment, and then she nodded, sighing. "Just... just try not to make too many jokes. Or at least make good ones."

"Understood, Ma'am," Marcus said, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, even though he knew that she wasn't able to see it. She turned away from him, and they continued exploring the area, trying to find possible shelters in cellars or buildings that were farther away from the location of the bunker. The bombs had mainly been aimed for it, as the enemy knew that there was a bunker in this area, but they didn't know it's immediate location, hence the bombs had hit anything except their intended target. Marcus somehow doubted that anybody had survived, and the longer they walked without seeing anyone the more convinced he was of that.

He could see how the motivation and hope of finding survivors left his comrades as well. Lieutenant Bell looked like she was ready to give the order to return to the base, and Marcus slowly started to think that he'd been too fast with his judgements about her. All her orders so far had been logical and she didn't exactly fit his idea of the stereotypical officer – she didn't hide behind the back of the enlisted soldiers but walked in front of their group, leading them through the ruins. She didn't see herself as something better, but as part of the group. The Lieutenant wouldn't have needed to go with them, and Marcus knew enough officers who would have taken advantage of that. To those kind of people, every soldier that wasn't an officer wasn't worth caring about.

But Bell, she acted like they were all on the same step, and right now, they definitely were in this together. In Marcus' eyes, it made her a lot more trustworthy.

Suddenly, the sound of rolling stones to their right alerted them, and they all raised their weapons, only seeing a small silhouette disappear around the corner.

"Let's follow it," Lieutenant Bell ordered and led them towards the corner behind which the silhouette had vanished. There was nothing to see from Marcus' perspective, but Bell knelt down and grabbed a neatly folded page of a newspaper from the ground. It wasn't covered with the thick, grey dust that was lying on top everything else, and it seemed to have been placed there only a moment ago. A few meters away, another page lay on the ground, and Marcus snorted. "What is this? A Scavenger hunt?"

A soft chuckle came from Bell, but she didn't turn around; instead, she followed the newspapers and activated their radio.

"Command center, this is team alpha, we found at least one survivor. Are now going to investigate, over."

"Understood, team alpha."

She was half walking, half running as she moved towards the next corner, where they could spot movement again. They were going faster, and now they could all see that it was a child in dirty clothes. It was running away from them and disappeared into a building that still had its roof and looked undamaged in comparison to the others around it. Bell signalled them to follow her, and then they entered the house.

OoO

Katie Bell could barely recall ever have seen something that made her feel as miserable and hopeful at the same time as the sight of the half dozen people that were sitting around a battered lantern in the largest room of the ground floor. Their eyes were tired and full of fear, and it was as if they weren't able to fully understand that help had arrived, not moving but simply staring into space. There was a hole in the corner of the room, leading downwards, and she assumed that they had a bunker down there in which they'd survived.

Her fingers were shaking as she activated the radio and stated: "Command center, this is team alpha. We found six survivors, requesting medical support and transport team, over."

"Copy that, team alpha. The truck is on its way. ETA twenty minutes."

Katie carefully knelt down in front of one of the two men so they were on eye level; she assumed that they had to look scary with their masks and the thick suits.

"Sir? I'm Lieutenant Bell, we are here to help you."

She didn't get a response, and Katie gave up after a few minutes, getting up and turning to her men. Sergeant Flint was looking at her with a very calm gaze, and with a slight movement of her head, she indicated him to follow her. There was something she'd noticed about the people, and she needed to talk to someone about it.

He seemed to sense that something was wrong; he didn't ask any questions while walking away from the survivors and looked casual, as if they always did something like that.

"Sergeant, did you notice something about them?" Katie asked him as they stood in what was left of the hallway, out of sight from the others.

"Apart from them being completely in shock?" he replied, trying to sound casual in case anybody could hear their voices.

"Some of them have something like burns. It's what I saw in the guide about radioactive contamination – it means that they're already too affected by the radiation to be cured. Only the three kids and the one woman look healthy enough to survive this," Katie explained, not really able to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke. They both knew what her words meant for those who'd already been heavily contaminated, and it wasn't easy to think about leaving them here in these ruins to die. It wasn't a decision they were used to making, and it also went against what they'd been taught. Non-combatants were normally people they were supposed to keep away from potential harm, and it felt not quite right to know that they would be leaving two of these people behind. But they had their orders, and it was their duty to obey. There were no resources in the bunker that they could waste, and treating someone who would die anyway was something they couldn't afford. Nobody knew how long they would have to live with the resources they had right now, and they had nothing to spare. Food, water, medication, fuel for generators and vehicles – everything

"Ma'am, I will support you when the time comes."

His voice was firm and his dark eyes were warm, expressing his support and some kind of protectiveness with a single gaze, and she nodded thankfully. Of course, nobody could take the weight of having to make the decisions from her, but knowing that he would have her back was giving her a bit more confidence.

"Thank you." She smiled, even though it was hidden behind her mask. She was glad that he wasn't joking around this once, as this was serious for her and she'd needed to know how he would react when the time came to tell those people that not all of them would go with them.

OoO

It didn't take long until the support unit with their truck arrived, and Katie felt incredibly glad. By now, Flint had managed to get some answers from one of the children – they'd explored the area the past two days, after the bombs had stopped falling. Apparently, they were the only ones from the group that weren't in deep shock. Maybe they didn't understand what was going on yet, why everything they knew suddenly was destroyed, and why their neighbours and friends were suddenly gone. According to them, there was nobody else who'd survived, this was a ghost town.

What they told the soldiers was only making Katie feel more guilty for having to rip the group apart – the kids wouldn't understand why they would rip them away from parts of their family. At least the final decision wouldn't be hers, but that of the medical officer who was currently examining them.

Flint was now always hovering close to her, as if he half expected her to break down or require assistance, and she didn't know how she was supposed to feel about that. She was a grown woman, and she definitely didn't need a man who acted overprotective just because she'd shown a little bit of a weaker side.

A nod from the medical officer told her that it was time, and she took a deep breath, letting her gaze wander slowly over the people sitting on the floor. They were slowly getting a bit more aware of their surroundings, and it certainly wouldn't make it easier.

"Okay... we will now take the more healthier ones of you with us. The medics will assist you with getting outside and onto our truck. The others should remain seated."

One of the men looked up, his formerly empty eyes now filled with disbelief, and Katie tried to look stern and authoritative in this situation that seemed to become more tense with every second.

"Please."His voice sounded shaky and was full of fear, and Katie gulped hard, wishing that they wouldn't have to do this.

"I'm sorry, Sir, you're too contaminated. We can't take you with us," Katie answered, her hands wandering to her assault rifle out of reflex. She had a bad feeling about this man, and she didn't want to risk anything.

"We... we all go," the man stuttered, slowly standing up, even though Marcus ordered him from behind her back to remain seated. "Please, you cannot... don't leave us here!"

"We have our orders! Now sit down!" Katie said even louder, now openly lifting her weapon so the man would see that she was serious.

"No!"

"Sit down, Sir! Don't come closer!"

Even though her hands were shaking slightly and she was afraid of what the man would force them to do, her aim on him was steady as she pointed her rifle at him, now yelling: "Sir, I order you to sit down! Otherwise we will have to use violence! Get the others out of here."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the medics grab the people they would take with them and led them outside, which only caused the man to scream back louder: "We all need help! You can't leave us here!"

"Sir, we can and we will. We have our orders."

With an angry scream, the man threw himself at her, so fast that she didn't have the time to pull the trigger, and his lower arm hit her in the face so hard that her head flew to the side and she was thrown onto the ground. Her head hit the wall, and her vision blurred heavily as she nearly blacked out, pain shooting through her whole body. With ringing ears, she tried to move but couldn't, and a few heavy kicks into her hip followed only seconds later. Every sound seemed to be muffled, and the angry yells of her comrades seemed to be so far away...

Her vision only returned slowly and for a very short time; she could see how two soldiers were trying to pin the man to the ground and then she blacked out.

Only from time to time did she surface briefly, all she could feel being pain and how her body was slightly shaken by the way the truck jumped over the uneven ground. Someone was holding her, but she couldn't stay conscious long enough to test if she was able to turn her head to look at the person. And so she slid back into the darkness, escaping the pain and the odd, fluffy feeling that seemed to have taken over her head.

OoO

Katie could barely remember anything from the days she'd spent in the hospital ward of the bunker, half-conscious for some time. She'd hit her head so hard that her skull was partially fractured, and the concussion hadn't really helped her either. The only thing she was truly sure about was that someone had been holding her hand whenever she'd surfaced, and that the bunker all around her had shaken once or twice.

Later, she'd learned that there had been new bombings, with heavier bombs this time, and that the war had now completely turned into a nuclear one.

At first, she hadn't really felt anything upon hearing the information, but soon the guilt had taken over. She could see the face of the man that had knocked her out whenever she closed her eyes, and she felt like she'd killed him. They'd left him on the surface, and now he was most definitely dead, as nobody could survive such heavy blasts. While everyone around her seemed to worry about how long the nuclear winter that was to follow would last, she could only think of what she'd done.

Every life was precious, that was what her father had always taught her, and she felt like she'd betrayed him and his memory with her deeds. She'd left someone to die whom she'd been supposed to protect, and it took her some time to come to terms with that. For quite a few days during her recovery, she isolated herself, ignored the knocks that she could hear on the door of her sleeping quarters and only left when she had to attend an examination in the hospital ward. A friend of hers told her that Sergeant Flint had been the one knocking at her door most of the times, and it moved her that he seemed so worried about her. If she was honest, she hadn't really thought that he was the type of person that really cared about others, and she'd also been convinced that he didn't like her at all. He seemed like one of those guys that thought women didn't belong in the military, let alone into leading positions. Throughout her career, she'd met enough of those 'Your uniform would look better on my bedroom floor' guys to recognise them from afar.

But maybe she'd been wrong about him; by now she was also relatively sure that it had been him who'd held her during the drive back to the bunker, and who'd sat by her side while she'd been unconscious. And after some time, she decided that she should at least thank him for being there for her.

OoO

Katie's heart was beating fast in her chest as she stopped in front of the door of Flint's sleeping quarters, and she had no idea why she was so nervous. She simply wanted to say a few words to him, nothing more, so there was nothing go have sweaty hands over. Knocking softly, she took a few deep breaths, and as the door was opened, she realised what had made her nervous: foreboding.

Sergeant Flint was standing in the doorframe, grinning smugly at her as she couldn't help but let her gaze wander over his toned legs, his black boxershorts and his very muscular chest and broad shoulders. He didn't seem to be bothered about being half-naked in front of her, but Katie could feel how her cheeks flushed.

"Lieutenant," he greeted her in a casual tone, smirking as she reached up with a shaking hand to shove a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. "What can I do for you?"

"I... uh... I wanted to speak to you... Sergeant..." she stuttered, missing her usual coolness, and she hated how he was obviously relishing in seeing her taken off guard so much. Maybe the head trauma had been more severe than the doctors had been able to recognise? It was as if something was off with her; she couldn't properly concentrate, something she wasn't used to. Over the years, she'd definitely seen enough naked upper bodies to not be bothered by them anymore, but this indifference seemed to have vanished.

"You can come in, Lieutenant. It's a bit cold in the hallway."

Something inside her told her she shouldn't, but her feet weren't under her control anymore; they moved on their own, carrying her inside. Flint's quarters were rather impersonal; there were no family photos, and except for a few books and a calendar there were no personal belongings. The grey and white standard sheets were lying on the bed, the little table in the corner was empty, and everything was just too tidy.

She could feel his gaze on her as she looked around briefly, and she wished he would finally put on a shirt. Inwardly slapping herself, she forced her thoughts away from certain things and turned completely towards him.

"Sergeant-"

"Now that you've seen me like this, wouldn't it be time to call me Marcus?" he interrupted her with a cheeky smirk, forcing Katie to calm herself again so she could continue to speak as if she hadn't heard what he'd just said.

"I wanted to thank you for having my back during that situation. And for spending time at my bedside while I was in the hospital ward. I really appreciate that."

Marcus shrugged, the smirk still playing around his lips as he replied: "Well, your snoring was cute. And I might have peeked a look or two into your neckline."

"Oh, you didn't." Katie chuckled dryly, silently wishing she'd taken her personal gun with her.

"I did. Nice sights." Marcus winked, and Katie felt the strong desire to throttle him. Glaring up at him, she pressed her hands into her hips.

"You're too reckless for your own good, Sergeant," she said, their gazes locking. "And there I thought that you were secretly a nice guy."

Marcus cocked an eyebrow and his smirk only widened as he leaned forward to whisper into her ear: "Oh, I'm full of surprises. You should try and see what else I can be."

The suggestive tone was practically dripping from his voice, and Katie cursed inwardly as tingles ran down her spine. This definitely wasn't what she was supposed to feel about him, and she wondered why her mind and body didn't want to obey her today.

"Tempting," she replied curtly in an attempt to make him think that his way of talking to her wasn't influencing her at all, but she could tell that he wasn't convinced. "I think it's time for me to go now, Sergeant. Thank you, again."

She turned around and took a step towards the door, but then she felt a gentle but firm hand on her arm, holding her back. As he spoke, his voice sounded completely different; softer, more mature.

"I'm sorry, please… please stay."

Katie blinked in confusion as she turned and looked into his eyes; it was as if a different man was standing in front of her, a pleading expression on his face. It moved her, and she assumed that this was the first time he was openly showing that this whole situation was getting to him more than he wanted to admit.

"As I said… sometimes I don't think about what I'm saying," Marcus explained with a sigh, letting go of her arm and running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking incredibly tired. "I… I just sat with you to watch you sleep because you looked so peaceful, while the world was crashing down above us. I didn't do anything other than hold your hand, I swear. Though you really do snore sometimes. And you drool."

A weak smile played around his lips and she returned it, asking herself why some men were so afraid of showing their feelings. She didn't think it was making Marcus weak to admit that he had needed something to keep him from losing it in a situation that would have frightened anyone.

And then, she just stepped forwards and slung her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Marcus buried his face in her hair, his hands loosely sitting on her waist, but even this simple gesture felt intimate to her. His warmth engulfed her, soothing her, and for a moment, she forgot where she was, and that the world they'd known was gone.