I didn't realize just how empty the base was after everyone had left. After grabbing my duffel bag to head out to Delhoun's, I took one last look around, noting how quiet it was, and was glad that I didn't have to stay here by myself for the next week.

Hudson and I couldn't accompany the rest of the squad to the Moon because we were both exposed to a toxic plant known as a silver flower. The poison takes forever to leave your system, and when you go into cryosleep, it sits and transitions to a liquid form. Basically, we can't go on any missions that require space travel for a month, until we get cleared.

After taking a ferry to Brisbane, I searched the dock's parking lot for Delhoun's car. "Look for a jeep that looks like someone couldn't decide whether to fix it up or leave it in the junkyard," I said to Hudson.

"I can easily make you sleep outside, Drake." It turned out Delhoun was right next to us, glaring at me from the driver's seat of his modified jeep.

"Sorry," I said.

"I do a lot for you. The least you could do is not tell people that my vehicle looks like junk." Delhoun unlocked his car, allowing me and Hudson to toss our stuff in the back before we climbed in. "Right. Now-" Delhoun looked over his shoulder at Hudson, "I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"You're the albino doctor who gave me CPR, right?" Hudson said.

"Yes. My name is Rykell Delhoun. You'll see what I do when we get home."

"Drake already told me your job is to play with animals all day."

Delhoun glanced at me. "You really couldn't come up with something better?"

"No, sir." I smirked. "I mean, I didn't want to make his head explode."

Aside from that little joke, we didn't talk much on the way to Delhoun's facility, which is an old high school he converted into a care center for Annexers. As soon as we got out of the car, I could see Winnie perched by a window, her tail flicking back and forth excitedly. "Drake, you'll be in my bedroom again," Delhoun said. "The couch wasn't bad last time you stayed, correct?"

"It was fine."

"And . . . I'll figure out something with you, Hudson." Delhoun opened the main doors, and we were greeted by excited screeching. Winnie sprinted over, and jumped in my arms, happily nuzzling my neck and face.

I didn't need a tour of the facility, so while Delhoun was showing Hudson around, I sat on the floor to play with Winnie. She pressed herself against my chest and belly, cooing as she kneaded my right leg. I was glad that someone was happy to see me, because I was already missing Vasquez. That longing feeling hit me like a ton of bricks, and the sad sigh I gave prompted Winnie to look up at me before she removed her helmet. She sniffed my face and licked my cheek, as if she was trying to tell me that everything will be OK.

I constantly wonder why sadness is such a hardy emotion, while happiness is easily blown away, like a feather in the wind. Or, am I just not meant to be happy all the time? Only a few hours earlier, I found out I passed my equivalency test and got my diploma. I should be happy. I mean, I was happy for about two minutes, and then I returned to reality. I can imagine most other people would be happy, and telling people about their achievements. Here was me, feeling like the world's biggest failure.

I showed Delhoun the letter and the diploma itself when we got some alone time. His ruby eyes widened with shock when he looked at my scores for the test. "A 'B' is incredible," he said. "I'm amazed."

"I didn't think I was that smart," I muttered.

"You did receive a little bit of help, though. Thank God no one picked up on that." Delhoun smirked, handing the papers back to me. "You ought to be proud of yourself."

"Well . . . I wish I was proud of myself. I got that medal, and I got my diploma, but I still don't feel better. I know I was happy for a little bit, but I don't know why that feeling . . . won't stay."

"It's not a natural feeling for you. You've been depressed for quite some time-"

"OK, make up your mind; do I have PTSD or depression?"

"Do I look like a psychologist to you? No. I'm not referring to depression the illness. I'm referring to it as a mood. Everyone experiences a period of depression at some point in their lives. It's generally not long-lived. It becomes a problem when you start isolating yourself and losing interest in daily activities. This heavy sadness and frustration is your primary emotion. When you have no idea how to feel, that's what you turn to, because it's been with you for so long. Besides, if you do have post-traumatic stress, depression oftentimes accompanies it."

"Never thought of it that way." I rubbed my face. "I'm sorry I'm . . . dumping everything on you."

"Don't worry about it. Tomorrow's going to be a bad day and I'd like to have some things to keep my mind occupied."

"Why?"

"I start my fast in the morning. I can't eat for twenty-four hours before the surgery."

"So, you're gonna be cranky. Great."

"I don't recall you being pleasant when you're hungry."

"That's because I'm not."

As a treat, Delhoun took me, Hudson, and Aran out to dinner at a seafood restaurant that overlooked the harbor. Aran was intrigued by the giant fish tank in the center of the building and spent most of the time staring at it. More than once, the Engineer has made me wish that I wasn't worried about things that went on in my head, and this was one of those times. "I wish I had your curiosity, Aran," I mumbled.

Hudson wasn't all that certain what to have. Unlike me, he hasn't had any chances to go out into the civilian world and eat real food, and I imagine his system is going to be shocked by the fact that whatever he orders hasn't been freeze-dried or powdered. Delhoun looked over at him, and said, "The salmon or the blackened tilapia would probably be best. Least likely to upset your stomach."

Hudson's response was, "Fuck you, man, I'm getting the deep-fried platter."

I grinned, choosing not to say anything. It would be best to just let Hudson learn his lesson the hard way.

Delhoun rolled his eyes. "Fine. Get whatever you want." He glanced at me and Aran. "Which one of you is going to be the designated driver?"

"Oh, Aran is. I'm getting alcohol," I said.

It was quiet up until we got our drinks. I wasn't sure what we could all talk about. Everything on my mind would probably sap everyone's appetite, and I didn't want to do that, so I settled on something mundane. "What's your plan for when you're in surgery?" I asked Delhoun.

"The procedure is supposed to take an hour. I don't want to make you sit in the waiting room for that long, so you can drive around Brisbane for all I care. Just be back in time to get me," Delhoun replied. "Afterwards, I need stuff from the grocery store, and that's basically it. The rest of the day will be routine; take the Annexers out, play with them, clean their kennels. Don't touch Dakota's cage. Make sure everyone has fresh food and clean water. There are two Annexers expecting kits-they're very gentle, so it'll be easy to check them over. Just make sure they're eating and drinking. If the cage doesn't smell right, let me know."

"Sounds like common sense to me," I said.

"Exactly. Please, don't fuck it up."

I asked Delhoun a lot of simple questions about where things are located. I could tell this was making him anxious, and he even told me that if this was a one-day thing, he'd be OK. He's going to be blind for three days.

"I feel like that's enough time for something to go horribly wrong, and I can't do anything about it." At that moment, Delhoun flinched as his right cheek was suddenly sprayed with warm butter when Hudson bit down on a large scallop. He took a deep breath, and glared at Hudson.

"Sorry," Hudson muttered with his mouth full.

"You better be sorry."

The sun had almost completely set by the time we left the restaurant. Driving back with the dark-orange hue at our backs, we all sort of kicked back while Aran was at the wheel. Delhoun was slightly tipsy, droning on about the different Canadian provinces he's visited. ". . . What better way to introduce me to travel than to take me to the barren wasteland that is the Yukon?" he slurred. "They got more bears than people up there. No, you wanna know where civilization really goes to die? The Northwest Territories and its lovely neighbor Nunavut. What they should do is make a great big Christmas village up on Ellesmere Island, and get some old fat guy to play Santa Claus all year round. There's your North Pole without actually going to the North Pole."

"And you can open up your own pancake restaurant there," I added. "When you quit playing with Annexers, of course."

"Exactly! Arctic tourism is such an underrated business."

While Delhoun continued to talk to himself as we got back to his facility, I went to take a shower, and found that I really liked having my own bathroom back on base. The old locker room showers hadn't been converted to something . . . more luxurious. They reminded me a lot of prison showers, which is something I don't want to experience again.

It wasn't as bad when you were completely alone, but something about standing naked in a large room was uncomfortable. Maybe it was the memories associated both with prison showers and high school locker rooms, but it could also be the memory of standing in front of a doctor processing me for boot camp. I can remember I was the skinniest and least in shape of the other recruits. The doctor looked over me, made me stand on a scale, made me bend over so he could run his cold finger up and down my spine. It seemed endless, and worst part was that while most recruits got to go home for a few weeks before shipping out, I had to stay behind and be shipped out as soon as I was processed. I had no home.

Scratch that: I have no home. The word has almost no meaning for me. I've heard some of the others talk about home, how they'll "go home" when they get discharged. I secretly wished I had a place that I could refer to as home, but I feel like that's definitely the most impossible thing I could wish for.

I left the showers and dropped my dirty laundry in Delhoun's room. I know it was a little early, but I wanted to go to bed anyway. I've been lying on the couch for the last hour or so, writing down everything that's happened since Hudson and I left the base. Delhoun didn't even bother saying anything when he came in not that long ago, and I don't envy the hangover he's going to have in the morning. I just hope he's not going to be too much of a pain during his fast tomorrow.

I woke up to Winnie carrying a package of raw chicken legs in her jaws. She was sitting by the couch, cooing at me. Glancing over at the bed, I saw Delhoun was still fast asleep, and I wasn't going to bother waking him. Groaning, I got off the couch and pulled a pair of socks on before walking stiffly down to the kitchen. Winnie trotted after me, and leaped up on the counter when we got to the kitchen. Aran was cracking eggs over a frying pan, and a very pale and very green Hudson was at the table, looking as though he had a really rough night.

"Lemme guess," I said, "You had the shits?"

Hudson nodded.

"Didn't Delhoun tell you not to order something so greasy? Your body's not used to real food."

"Let's just pretend that didn't happen, man," Hudson replied.

After covering the eggs with a sheet of aluminum foil, Aran gently set a cup of steaming tea in front of Hudson, and patted his head. I sat at the table, and Winnie screeched at me. "Oh, alright." Standing back up, I took the package from her and opened it over the sink, taking out a chicken leg and tossing it to her. "There. Happy now?"

She carried the leg over to a pair of metal bowls and began tearing into it. I put a clip on the bag before placing it in the fridge, and sat back down at the table. "I hope we just do nothing today," I muttered.

"I hope I can have a solid number two today," Hudson added.

I sighed. "Alright, no one wants to know that, dude."

Aran nodded in a agreement as he set plates of fried eggs and a stack of toast on the table, along with butter and a small tub of chocolate hazelnut spread. He joined as after setting a plate of bacon in between me and Hudson, and passed a cup of coffee to me. As we dug into our breakfasts, Delhoun stumbled into the room, his white-blond hair sticking up in every direction. He looked at Aran, and said, "Did you make all this?"

The Engineer nodded.

"You realize I can't eat today, right?"

Another nod.

"Then why'd you cook so much?"

Aran shrugged.

Delhoun glanced at me. "How'd you sleep last night?"

"Fine," I replied with my mouth full.

"No nightmares?"

"Nope."

"Good." Delhoun looked at Hudson. "You look like someone punched you and then hung you upside-down. I did tell you not to order the damn deep-fried platter, didn't I?"

Hudson rolled his eyes. "There's no pleasing you, is there?"

"Come on, guys, behave," I said. "Delhoun has to fast, and Hudson had the shits. Try to be civil with each other."

I had a feeling that it would be some time before Delhoun and Hudson even remotely acted civil toward each other. I didn't want to be there if they started squabbling, so I left the building and killed time by walking around the city. Just walking around doesn't stop you from getting lost in your thoughts, and I kept thinking about Vasquez. At this point, she was probably in hypersleep with the rest of the squad on their way to the Moon. I wondered if she was dreaming about me, and missing me. I know I missed her. Frankly, I was already regretting my decision to stay with Delhoun, though, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't suffering from anxiety about his surgery. I should be more sympathetic. After all, he's done a lot for me, and I really haven't done a lot for him.

My boredom led me to a large shopping mall in the middle of downtown Brisbane. Three floors of all different kinds of shops surrounded a giant fountain. In the fountain was a miniature version of the city, complete with tiny palm trees. The very bottom of the fountain was covered in coins, and I reached into my pocket to pull out a penny. I don't think flipping a penny into a fountain is going to grant me good luck or a wish or whatnot, but some part of me wanted to do anything just to make happiness in my life. I though about last night and how I told myself that wishing I had a home was downright impossible.

I felt like that was too much for a penny, so I simply wished something good would happen to me. Doesn't matter if it happens today or tomorrow. I don't care. Just something to take my mind off the possibility that I have PTSD, something to take my mind off missing Vasquez, something to take my mind off everything that hurt me. With that, I flipped the penny into the fountain, watching it sink and rest on top of the coins that were already there.

Instead of feeling hopeful, I felt tired. It was too early in the day for me to be tired, but it wasn't unusual. That tired feeling was accompanied by a painful loneliness, and I'll never understand how I feel so alone when I'm surrounded by hundreds of people.

Question of the Chapter: Would Drake react differently if Vasquez got to stay instead of Hudson? Or would the shock of staying in a different environment have the same reaction?

Author's Note: I feel like this is a rather "junky" start. Not a lot of major plot elements have been introduced, specifically when it comes to character-vs.-character conflict. We have Drake thinking about the meaning of "home," and the fountain scene to introduce his typical internal conflicts. I like the penny scene despite how short it is. Thinking about this tough guy standing in the middle of a mall and doing something so mundane as throwing a coin into a fountain is interesting to say the least. I know I've made this character so human over the last five stories, but there's a lot more that just fleshes him out every single page.

Along with that, we have an increasingly vulnerable Delhoun who's unsure if he can trust Drake and Hudson with his work. He can trust Drake, but he sure can't trust Hudson, for multiple reasons. Speaking of Hudson, one question is driving me nuts: are his eyes blue or brown? Even close-up pictures aren't giving a clear answer. The NECA figure has them a bright, almost unnatural blue, while several stills from the movie are too dark to tell. Even dark shots show that Drake has blue eyes, but Hudson's are too dark to be blue, though there are some shades that are darker than others. I don't know; it's irritating because describing eye color adds detail to character and emotion, and I'd like to get things accurate.