So this is a Hal/OC, yeah I know he has like a hundred love interests already, and I LOVE me some Hal and Lourdes but everyone knows my love for OC's and Hal is just too hot, and too much of a well written character for me not to write an OC for him. Also, in this story can we pretend Lourdes isn't head over heels for Hal? Cause I want her and my main character to have a bond, and I don't want some boy(even if he is Hal Mason) tearing them apart. I hope you all enjoy this. Also, it's just sad how many stories there are for this fandom, I mean COME ON! This show is awesomesauce! Go write just a one-shot, an 100 drabble, a song-fic, something. Anything!

I'm just a soul who's intention's are good,
Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood

Calla's POV

Life was…hard, to say the least. But I guess that comes with being a teenager, I mean what teenager doesn't feel like they're life is so, so hard and that the world is so very unfair? Even though all teenagers are really required to do is go to school for four little years, get semi-decent grades and then choose where you want to go to college and the book it. But those four years, are hell. Pure. Fucking .Hell. You could be the valedictorian, cheer-leading captain, class president and still be scared for life. Still have rumors made about you, still kiss the wrong person and be friends with the wrong people. It's fucking ridiculous. So my motto was 'Screw it all' and that got me through…enough. My family was fine I guess, my dad jetted after my little sister was born and got remarried. His monthly child support checks fueled my addiction to nicotine. My mom was a full time nurse and was usually out of the house, when she was home she'd cook a brief meal have a couple glasses of wine, and then pass out on the couch. My eldest sister, Elizabeth; Beth, was an over achiever, the kind that makes you feel so insignificant it hurts. When we were little my gammy, who was a southern belle would enter us into her beauty pageants. Beth was like eight and I was five and I knew I hated pageants. I hated the prissy little bitches and they're moms and I hated putting in extensions and having my face caked with make-up. And the dresses, ugh, I think I hated them more than anything. They were made out of polyester and felt worse than Halloween costumes. But Beth, she excelled. She was prettier than any of the other little girls, smarter, more composed. Hell, at the age of eight she gave a speech on how the human kind was causing global warming. I got kicked out of pageants before I was seven for giving another little girl a bloody nose. She had pulled Beth's piggy tale, and that hadn't settled well with me.

My little sister, Rosalind; Rosie, was seven when the attacks happened. Rosie was…the center of attention, without even trying she could light up a room. Her warmth seemed to fill every space she was put in, and even I, miss moody teenager, couldn't stop myself from being happy when I was around her. My sisters were my world…and then, my world was ripped away from me.

Third Person

The procedures had been difficult, and a child had been lost, but Anne had succeeded in removing the harnesses from seven kids. They were all pretty young, god, they couldn't be older then seventeen. The youngest looked to be around eight or nine and Anne stroked the little girls back lightly. These poor kids she thought to herself, she could feel the familiar sting in her eyes and she blinked and took a deep breath, stepping away from the recovering child and moving on to the next one.

"They're going to be fine, we did it. You did it" Lourdes said from a stool as she watched her mentor check up on all of the kids. The Mason's had gone to eat dinner about a half hour ago, Weaver had ordered it and the three boys trudged out of the room sulkily and in Hal's case mouthily, only Matt looking his age.

"Not all of them" Anne replied. Lourdes was the only one who really ever got to see Anne in this state. The emotional, non professional messy Anne who was only human, just like the rest of the second Mass. Lourdes' face dropped and she readjusted herself on the stool. She knew that Anne would never forgive herself for the death of that boy. Even though they had all tried there hardest, there was bound to be tragedy.

"It wasn't your fault" Lourdes said quietly and Anne just shot the teen a small smile. She was a good kid, and Anne didn't need her wasting her time worrying about her. The older woman looked down at the teenager on the table and crouched down next to the patient, checking if the young girl was still breathing right. She was surprisingly stunning for how old must have been. The girl couldn't be more then seventeen, but looked like a grown woman. She had long; tangled due to months of not brushing it, raven hair. Her face was heart shaped with a long slender nose and full lips. The most shocking thing about this girl was that she had a cherry blossom tree tattooed up her back; the tattoo was partially distorted by the inch and a half long spike that protruded from her spine. Anne's eye brow rose and a small smile played on the corners of her lips.

"How's she doing?" Tom asked and Anne gasped and grasped her chest and shot up straight.

"Jesus ,Tom" She sighed standing up and running a hand through her long brunette hair, pushing her bangs back. He had pulled up a chair and was sitting next to Ben's cot and Lourdes had somehow managed to sneak off. Probably to go catch a bite to eat.

"She's breathing alright, actually all of them are. They should be up within the next couple of hours when the drugs wear off" Anne informed him and Tom just nodded, mulling it over. His son, the middle child who had been missing since the week after the invasion was home.

"I…I was scared we wouldn't find him again" Tom got out gruffly, emotion filled his voice and Anne made her way across the room to stand next to him.

"Well you did" She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it `reassuringly. Tom looked across the room at the sleeping girl. She looked about Hal's age maybe even a little younger, her back was covered in a large tattoo and he wondered who the hell her parents were, and then he realized that it didn't matter because they were probably dead and they're shitty parenting skills were irrelevant. Tom recalled when Hal had hinted at a tattoo, and he had laughed in his sixteen year olds face which had earned him the scolding of a life time from Rebecca. He swallowed dryly at the thought of his wife, and then banished the thoughts from his head all together.

"Are they awake yet?" Hal questioned as he trotted in, his gun slung across his chest proudly. Everything he did her did it…almost cockily, his handsome head held high and his chest puffed out. Anne pulled her hand away and went back to checking the children, wanting to give the father and son a bit of privacy.

"No, they won't be for a couple of hours. Where's your brother?" Tom inquired as Hal leaned against the science turned medicine cabinets.

"He's with Scott" Hal replied crossing one arm over his chest and rubbing his chin with his other hand. He looked over all of the sleeping kids, his dark eyes scanning them all, trying to find a familiar face. As usual, he came up short and he internally sighed. His dark eyes focused on a girl's nearly bare back. An intricate tattoo of branches and delicate cherry blossoms inked the skin from her lower back up to her left shoulder. He fought a grin, she reminded him of the old world. A rebel teenager who had gotten inked before her time, god, did he miss being a teenager. He missed wanting to be reckless, he missed sneaking out and he missed sneaking beers from the fridge and watching internet porn. He missed it all

"That's good" Tom responded as he stroked Ben's sandy brown hair. Both Ben and Matt had gotten their mother's light looks of soft almost blond hair and hazel eyes, but Hal was a near replica of the older man. There had been pictures of Tom in high school, and everyone had thought they were Hal, with a different haircut and in the library. Hal wasn't the brainy type, nor had he ever been. No, he wasn't the dumb jock that Ben had called him all of the time. He actually used his brain, a lot more now after the invasion…he just wasn't good at saying what he thought. Witty remarks and a confident stride hid the fact that Hal had, had dyslexia since he was eight. He kept it between his family and had once given Ben a black eye after the younger teen teased him all day long about getting a D in English. Hal didn't respond to his father, he just looked at Ben who was lying on his stomach, spikes protruding out of his back where the harness had been attached. You could already hear the talk, Razor backs. He'd heard Rick been called it many of times and it disgusted him. He dared anybody to call his brother that, he'd fucking kill them. These kids had been through more than anyone in the second Mass. And they didn't deserve the welcome that they were already receiving.

"What if he's like Rick?" Hal asked the question that had plagued him since they had saved his little brother.

"Then we'll deal with it" Tom told his eldest who nodded and agreed with a small yeah. They would deal with it; they really didn't have a choice.

A few hours later

One by one, the harnessed kid's began opening their eyes, groggily and drugged they struggled to focus and figure out where they were. It was like waking up from surgery, and most of them had no family to comfort them. Only three out of the right had family in the Second Mass, Ben and an eleven year old girl and a seven year old boy. Anne and Lourdes greeted them all with warm smiles and soft words, telling them that they were on pain medication (cough, heroin, cough) which was why they felt so bad. Some cried some just lay there; lost in thought, some screamed…it was all a bit horrific. Ben was one of the first to open his eyes, his small family surrounded him. Tom nearly sobbed when he was the hazel orbs, alert. Alive.

"Dad?" Ben asked, and Tom knew it was going to okay. Matt and Hal laughed joyously and Anne watched with a relieved smile. That had been about four hours ago and all of the kids were awake, all except one.

"All of her vitals are fine, I have no idea why she's not waking up" Anne told Weaver as they stood above the tattooed girl. She hadn't woken up, not when they lowered her medication, not when they spritzed her with water or shook her. It was almost like her body had gone into a coma.

"Maybe she's just a late bloomer. But we can't keep using up all of the medication. If she's not awake by tomorrow, we're going to have to cut her off" Weaver told Anne, his gruff voice void of emotion as usual. Anne's expression went from horrified to angry in seconds.

"We don't know what will happen if we cut her off while she's still off. She could die" the doctors voice was louder than usual and she fought to keep from screaming at the captain.

"Do you think keeping her all pumped up on drugs is helping her at all? Maybe it's what's keeping her out, and those drugs have to be used to help other kids in her situation, Dr. Glass" Anne's mouth hung open and she wanted to say something, but she sucked it up and took a deep breath, calming herself before she nodded.

"Okay" She agreed and Weaver left without another word. Anne smoothed the girl's knotted black mane.

"Wake up" She plead in a whisper, before going back to the other kids.

Calla's POV

I could hear voices around me, but I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes and see who they belonged too. I felt…different. Free. Like I could get up and run far away, like I wasn't under the aliens control anymore. I tried to open my heavy eye lids, but it felt like they were glued together.

Come on Calla, you can do this I rooted for myself in my head and after what seemed like forever, blackness that lie behind my close eyelids faded into foggy, distorted light. I blinked a few times, trying to clear my eyes so I could see straight. I was in some kind of…lab. I wondered if the aliens had taken me into they're spaceship, but then ruled that out as I saw a science poster, Albert Einstein was telling me to use my brain. I was flat out on my stomach on a stretcher and a sharp pain was shooting up my back and my mouth tasted horrible. I sat up slowly and cautiously, trying not to strain my already throbbing back. I realized that I was just in my black bra and a pair of skinny jeans and my heart began to accelerate a little bit, what kind of psychopaths had I been kid napped by? It was daytime, maybe a little around dusk and there was a huge window right across from where the cot I was on. Was I in a school? It looked like it, outside was a school that read 'Jefferson High School'. My throat felt like it had been sand papered and was screaming at me for me to drink something so I stood up on shaky legs. I was definitely high; I just didn't know what on. Coke?...No heroin, definitely heroin I answered my own questions as I looked around the science lab. It looked like a make shift hospital, with all of the little hospital cot's, and IV bags. I walked slowly around, looking for something to drink. I found a water bottle in one of the cabinets that wasn't locked and began chugging it, I don't think I had ever been so thirsty in my entire life. Whoever I was with had water, enough of it to leave water bottles lying around which was weird. I went to rub my neck, thinking that maybe that would help a little with the pain, and my fingers landed on gauze.

"What the fuck?" I questioned myself as I pulled up an edge of the tape that held the gauze there and then ripped off the bandage. I hissed in pain for a moment and then my fingers went back to the back of my neck.

My whole body froze and a harsh gasp ripped its way from my throat, leaving the already sore esophagus even more enflamed. A hard sharp point was sticking out of the skin of my pack. I have a metal in my skin! I panicked and kept touching down my back, feeling various pieces of metal stuck in my skin. I couldn't breathe and my eyes darted around the room, scanning for a mirror.

I was battling with myself as I looked in the mirror. Don't pass out, don't pass out was my inner mantra and it wasn't really working all that well. Between the drugs and the shock I felt like I was going to fall over, actually, I was surprised I hadn't fallen over yet.

I looked like SHIT. I was covered in a layer of dirt and grime and I felt gross. There were various bruises scattered along my lightly tanned body and I had no idea where any of them had came from. My hair looked like a birds nest and my jeans, now that I took a moment to look at them were the exact ones I had been taken it. I wondered how long that I had been with those monsters. All of this was enough to make a person feel like puking…bit the thing that made me the most sick were my eyes. They were an odd color. They were whitish yellow around the iris, which faded to a deep gold color and then was circled by a thin ring of forest green. It wasn't human…it looked almost animal like. Where the hell had my brown eyes gone! I cautiously turned around til' my back faced the mirror. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I could do this; I could deal with seeing whatever the hell was in my spine, no matter how gruesome. I turned my head and then the world went black again as I succumbed to the drugs and shock.

This time waking up, not only did my mouth taste horrible, and my back hurt like a bitch, but my head felt like it had been stomped on. I must have hit it when I passed out.

"I need a cigarette" were my first words to the unfocused, unfamiliar faces that came into view and someone let out a chuckle.

"Hey, I'm Doctor Anne Glass. No, no, no. Don't sit up" The woman with long light brown hair spoke softly to me as she gently pushed me back down. I was on my back this time, a pillow was under me and I could tell I had been bandaged up again and I just followed her instructions. I opened my mouth and then closed it again, trying to clear my head. There were five people surrounding me. An older man with dark hair, a little kid with shaggy dirty blond was standing close to him; he was probably his son, which meant that the guy who looked like an older version of that said kid must be a son as well, and a petite tan girl with a long side pony tail. I had never seen any of them before in my life and they were all staring at me, gob smacked.

"Can you tell me your name?" The doctor asked.

"Calla-Lilly Logan... Am I on heroin?" I answered and asked in a gruff, unused voice and the doctors eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know that?" She wondered, shooting the older man a look.

"The taste in my mouth" It came out with a 'duh' tone and I disobeyed what she had said earlier and began to sit up. I was still in my bra, but I was in too much pain to care who my nearly naked upper body.

"I see. How old are you Calla-Lilly?" She asked and it took me a moment to process.

"Sixteen" I said and the tan girl wrote it down on a clip board.

"Where am I? What's the date and what the hell is in my back?" I shot off question after question. I would never admit it, but I was scared. Of the…metal spikes in my back. The older boy with sandy blond hair looked at the older man. When he turned his head I saw that he had the same bandage on his back. I reached a shaky hand up to my own bandage, touching the plastic. I could feel the metal that shouldn't be there.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Dr. Glass asked. Fire. Explosions. Death…My family died. They were gone…all except for Rosie. She had been with me when we had been taken at that 7-11.

"Is there a girl? One who looks just like me?" I asked frantically and and the dark haired bearded man shook his head to which she nodded hers sadly, a small frown pulling at her lips.

"I'm Tom Mason and these are my sons. I was one of the fighters in the group that rescued you…and there were no little girls who looked like you. I'm sorry" He was sincere and I just smiled a tight smile, trying to keep myself from crying. She couldn't be gone, she was all I had left…I was alone now.

"Dad, Weaver- Oh, umm sorry. Dad…" A dark haired boy busted into the room. He looked about my age, and he looked like a younger version of Tom, but nothing like his brothers. He had dark, almost black hair, chocolate colored eyes and was decked out in military. He was attractive, I can't deny that, but at that moment Jensen Ackles could have walked through the fucking door and I wouldn't give a crap. My little sister was still with the Aliens. That's all that I could think about. He was staring at me hardcore and I immediately realized that I hated my new eye color.

"Okay…well you rest up alright, Calla-Lilly?" Tom said and I just gave a polite nod as he exited and left with his son.

"I'm Matt Mason!" The little boy said putting his hand in my face, the moment his dad was gone; it was like he had been waiting to pounce on me. I smiled and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, sir" I said and he beamed at the fact that I had just called him sir.

"So were your eyes always that color, or did the skitters make em' look like a cats?" He asked boldly and everyone in the room went silent and tense. The older Mason pinched his arm and then looked at me.

"I'm so sorry" He said to me and then looked at Matt. "That was so rude Matt, say you're sorry."

I love children's honesty; it was like a breath of fresh air. I knew everyone who had seen me so far had wanted to ask that exact question, but only the little boy had the guts to.

"No, it's okay. The…skitters made them like this. They used to be brown" I told them and they all looked shocked. Was I the only one who had gotten these freaky eyes? Dr. Glass answered my unasked question.

"You're the only harnessed child who has them" She said and I bit my lip. Great. I was the freakiest of the freaks.

"Lourdes, I'm going to go check on the other kids and get her some dinner. Will you stay with her?" Dr. Glass asked and the petite girl nodded.

"Of course" She told her mentor and the doctor smoothed my raggity hair and then left.

"Come on Matt…we should go" The older Mason left and I frowned. I wanted them to stay, to talk to him about the metal in our backs. But I stayed quiet as he all but dragged the little one away.

"I'm Ben, by the way" The teen said, before he exited the lab/make shift hospital. I looked at the girl and she grinned at me. She seemed really nice.

"It's just you and me now. You thirsty?" She asked and I nodded and told her thank you as she handed me another water bottle. We chit chatted while Dr. Glass was in the cafeteria. Her name was Lourdes Gamboa, she was eighteen and had been a pre-med major before the attacks. She told me that I was at the Second Massachusetts's home base and that it was just one of twelve resistance groups. There were 300 people in this resistance group: 200 civilians and 100 fighters. Tom Mason was second in command, and some guy named Daniel Weaver was first. After we were done talking about the basics, I looked down at myself.

"Umm is there any way to take showers here?" I asked. I was disgustingly dirty and I could barely pull my fingers through my hair.

"Yeah, I'll take you down to the lake when you're done eating…clothes though…I don't think were the same size" Defiantly not. I wore a medium, and Lourdes looked to wear an extra small. A girl with wavy blond hair who was all decked out in black, a rifle slung across her chest passed by the door and Lourdes perked up.

"Hey Margret!" She called for the girl who looked a bit confused, and then stuck her head in the door.

"Yeah?" You could tell the blond was shocked at my weird new eyes, but she kept herself composed and her voice void of emotion. I was going to have to get used to that; the look of shock and horror.

"Do you have any extra clothes? I'd let her borrow some of mine but I'm too small" I felt bad, I didn't want to be taking peoples clothes.

"Yeah I think I can spare a t-shirt and jeans for sleeping beauty" Margret said sarcastically with a smile and eye brow rose. Why the hell was I sleeping beauty?

"Thank you" I told her before she left, and Dr. Glass re-entered the room with a paper bowl filled with soup of some kind. My stomach growled loudly, how had I not realized how hungry I was? I thanked her for the soup and then dug in. It wasn't the best, but hey, it was food and I ate it all in nearly two minutes. While I was eating, Lourdes told Glass about taking me to go wash up and the doctor agreed after a few moments of persuasion.

"Come on, Sleeping beauty" Lourdes told me before helping me up. She had packed a small bag of half used shampoo, a bar of soap that was nearly a sliver, and a brush. I was appreciative, but weary.

Why were these people being so nice to me?

Was it good? Was it crap? Ahh, give me some feedback. Love you guys!