Connor Lassiter stepped out of the hatch and into the sunlight, the heat hitting his face like a furnace. He grinned with immense satisfaction at the spectacle before him: rows and rows of old, stripped planes, reflecting the brilliant sunlight, as far as the eye could see. The wave of heat was his first clue; that, combined with the miles of decommisioned planes, could only mean that he was back in The Graveyard.

He and Risa had talked it over at the hospital. They knew they had no where else to go; knew they had left something special back at the Graveyard, that feeling of importance and self-worth. And they knew that, without the Admiral, the place would fall to pieces. Those refugee Unwinds needed order; they needed someone to lead. Connor would lead them.

As he walked in the blinding light, Risa pushing her chair along beside him, he saw a figure waving enthusiastically at the pair of them. As they neared each other, Connor was able to make out Hayden's beaming face--drops of sweat glistening at his forehead and temples, reddened shoulders, and braces on his perfectly-straight teeth.

"Ran from the law," Hayden said as soon as they were within earshot of each other (his grin had somehow managed to spread even wider across his face), "outsmarted the Juvey-cops, turned their own tranq pistols against them, freed and gathered an army of Unwinds across the country, blew up Happy Jack Harvest Camp, striking fear in the hearts of authorities and inspiring Unwinds worldwide--the famed and fabled Akron AWOL, Connor "the Messiah" Lassiter!" Hayden finished his greeting--which seemed more like an announcement regarding a war hero and all of his (however exaggerated they were) accomplishments (which, in a way, Connor mused, he was)--with a blaspheme. Connor and the blonde shook hands warmly. "Welcome home," Hayden said.

Connor grinned and Risa and Hayden exchanged their own greetings.

"'The Messiah', huh?" Risa inquired. "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

"Perfectly fitting, with the way things have been going here," Hayden remarked. "Everyone worships you now, Connor."

Connor felt a heat on the back of his neck that he wished he could blame on the extreme climate.

"Tell me," Hayden pressed, "how did you slip through the cracks after all that?"

"Identity theft," Connor explained as he pulled the pictureless ID card from his back pocket and handed it to Hayden. The blonde accepted the card and took a look. "Elvis Robert Mullard?" He looked up, smirking. "Nice to meet you, Elvis."

Connor flinched visibly, and there's no way Hayden, with his sharp eyes and keen perception, could have missed it. He eyed the dark-haired hero curiously.

"Call me Robert," Connor said. "E. Robert Mullard." He half-hoped Hayden wouldn't ask, but he knew it was inevitable, considering.

"What's wrong with Elvis?" the kid asked. Connor shuddered.

"I just...don't like the name," he answered lamely.

"Why ever not?" Hayden persisted, his eyes widening in such a way that might have been innocent had it not been for the wicked grin spreading across the rest of his face.

Connor sighed in defeat, knowing full well that Hayden wasn't going to give up anytime soon on what would, no doubt, be an extremely amusing story for him .

"There was a kid back at the warehouse," Connor explained. "I was stuck in several safehouses with him before we got to that holding tank and I could distance myself from him." He took a deep breath and his spine quivered from the memory of the kid. Risa took his hand comfortingly. Hayden was holding his breath in anticipation. "Anyway, this kid latched onto me like a leech. He followed me around constantly and would never stop talking to me, like I was his idol or something. At least, if he hadn't already been obsessed with--"

Hayden let out a melodramatic gasp in realization. "No!" he said, eyes lit up in amusement.

Connor nodded. "Kid was crazy about Elvis Presley. His name was Eddie or something like that, but he insisted on being called Elvis. And when he wasn't bugging me, he was singing Elvis songs with everything he had."

"He was tonedeaf," Risa put in, emphasizing the horror of being in a limited space with such a person.

"How dreadfully morbid!" Hayden announced gleefully.

"Yeah, well, that's not the worst part," Connor said. "The only reason he still haunts me is because he was in that crate of kids who suffocated when we all arrived here for the first time."

Hayden's face became less animated and more passive as he took it in. He thought for a moment, then said, "What a chilling tale. I'm all shook up!"

Connor would have strangled him right then and there if it weren't for the affection he held for Hayden and his undying sense of humor.

* * *