Updated 6/15/12

A/N: Ok people, I really want feedback on this one in particular. Personally, I think it's repetitive and drags on a bit. I'd like to know you're thoughts. I'm gonna go see the movie again, so that'll help me sound more authentic. Thanx.

Oh yeah, and since the world is going to end tomorrow, I'd like to say, it's been an honor writing for you :)

Chapter 2: Boundaries

Priest could feel the dust roll into the air just below his knees as he walked up a steep hill. It was well into the night and he could see stars in the dark sky. It was impossible to see stars in the city with the layer of toxic cloud-cover hovering over it. He was much more at ease in this type of terrain than in the city any day. But because of the war, he was afraid he'd never be perfectly at ease ever again.

The city was cold and isolating. And now, in this quiet time of habitual reflection, he knew that he never wanted to go back even if the church accepted back. Excommunication did nothing to him; God was still in his spirit. If only more of the people in the cities were brave enough to walk outside of their guarded walls. There was no rule that neglected the whim, but the fear inflicted by the church had limited most if not all of the citizens. Yes, the roads and many of the towns were desolate, but they were more real than any metal encasement they called apartment buildings and factories. Compared to the city, the outside world was open and freeing. Was freeing a bad thing? How could it be? He had so many questions that only God could answer. Could the church have been lying to them about the wrongs of pleasure? He couldn't tell, but with these emerging feelings of determination to live in bliss—to live without war and lonely segregation—how could this be a forbidden rebellion? How could caring deeply for his daughter and hoping for a love life—a love pure of heart if anything—be a bad thing for a Priest? But at the moment, he knew God intended something to happen, whether it ends to his liking or not, he would walk behind God with unwavering faith.

The dust lifted higher into the air as the small mountain he climbed grew higher. The war had destroyed most of the land. Now, most soil was unable to grow any produce, but there were exceptions. He knew Owen struggled with his land just outside the city, but he was determined. Owen loved life and refused to be within the city walls. He was a man of action, a herder not meant to be herded. His passion and compassion was rare, which is why Priest was confident that he would raise his daughter right and treat Shannon with the utmost respect. He missed him, but knew he was with God, so mourning his brother was just as brief as most other deaths he endured in battle. Still, he mourned for the time they had lost throughout the years. Becoming a Priest meant sacrifice. So much sacrifice.

He was overwhelmed with thought; with personal reformation of the rules he was given to obey. He didn't want to be ignorant to his own life any longer. And he did have a life; it was stored in the out-most reaches of his mind. He wanted to bring up the memories of his childhood and remember them all for hours. He wanted to relive those times he and Owen were really living, walking the streets and making believe, or even just talking. He wanted to remember the times he enjoyed being with Shannon; the times he was a proud father. He was internally conflicted. He'd never felt this overwhelmed; he'd never let these things get to him, let alone reach his consciousness. He would have to wait and see what the future held. But he couldn't relax, he could only remain calm.

While in somewhat of a trance—distracted from the real world by his constant thought—Priest lost focus of his steps and tripped just before he reached level ground. He landed as gracefully as possible, almost making it look like he'd meant to kneel. Almost.

"I don't remember the last time I saw you trip." He heard a voice say.

He tried to stifle a smile, without understanding exactly why. Reflex maybe. He got up slowly, his eyes still looking to the ground, his face revealing nothing of what was going on in his mind. "Neither can I."

He looked up, only slightly surprised that once his eyes met Priestess', she quickly glanced away, as if they were strangers, when they were just the opposite. Throughout their years of knowing each other, training, fighting, surviving, they always had the best understanding for one another. They could look into each other's eyes and know what the other was thinking. It was a comfort during the war, to have an ally that you were perfectly comfortable being with and fighting with. When they fought together, it was like they were one mind; it was like that from the beginning. Priest wondered if they could be more than just allies, and knew that she wondered the same, but it was he who in the past rejected her. Quietly and without words, but nonetheless, it was rejection.

If they had been allowed to see each other right after the war, they would've, but there was a regulation saying that they couldn't meet with another Priest until a year after the war for reasoning on the Priest's integrating into society. It made sense at the time, but now that he thought about it, he didn't like it. It didn't just keep them apart for that long year, it kept them apart for the ten years following as well. Now they were on the brink of war, together again to fight another day. But now, he just wanted to sit here with her.

Priestess was sitting on a rock and staring into the distance. Staring at the stars maybe, he couldn't tell. He sat next to her, below her on the ground. It was quiet for a moment, but they both knew what the other was thinking.

"I forgot what it was like to be somewhere where it was quiet." Priestess said. She didn't have to look at Priest to know that he was nodding. "It's either the constant humming of the city or the deafening quiet after a battle."

They were both silent after that. She looked at him eventually and continued her thought. "The war was never over for us, was it?"

Priest shook his head, brief and to the point.

Priestess nodded. "It lived within us even when we were praised…before they began to fear us."

Priest sympathized completely and wished he was able to talk about, but those cold years of isolation had made it hard for him to open up to anyone. Maybe Priestess would be the one to break that barrier. He could only hope.

"Do you think that's why we were feared? Could they sense the war within us?" Priest heard himself say this and almost took it back. What was he saying? What he felt, that's what. It felt right, but intruding. When Priestess answered, he knew he could trust her not only with his life, but with his thoughts as well.

"Partly." She replied, a little caught off guard that Priest looked like he was actually willing to talk. "I believe the reason they really feared us was because we're so skilled. We are…merely weapons to them."

Never had either heard so much honesty from one another. They used to feel guilt if they tried, but things were different out here, especially when the feeling of betrayal overrode most every other feeling.

"I only wanted to be feared by the vampires." Priest said. "But it didn't take long for me to figure out that they don't fear like we do."

Silence.

"…I've never liked how they treated us." Priestess spoke up.

"The citizens?"

"Everyone."

Which included the clergy.

"Me neither."

He remembered the nights they would talk during the war. They were highly cryptic in the past because of their fear of speaking freely, but it was still a comfort. This moment was much like the past in that they felt content with each other.

"Back then, the clergy made us feel like guardians, but now, I hardly feel human." Priest couldn't control this from coming out of his mouth; it had to be said. But it only reminded him of the hurt that the betrayal of the clergy brought them. In anger, he got up with the intension of leaving, but couldn't get himself to move.

Priestess understood his anger, but wanted to reel him back to her; maybe for these moments, they could balance each other and forget about the war and past. Just for a while.

The light of a motorcycle flashed in the distance. Another Priest or comrade had arrived. Priestess got to her feet. It had just occurred to Priest that this was why she was out here. She was still working. He questioned if she'd gotten any sleep. She didn't answer.

Priest slowly got up and watched her walk away. He wanted to stop her, but what would happen if he did? What would he say? Or do for that matter? He wanted her, didn't he? That sounded shallow, but true. Damn, it was true.

Priest went to her, taking her hand before she could begin to descend to her destination. She looked at him, her eyes wanting an explanation. But after a moment, she didn't need one, she knew why. If they were going against the church, they might as well break a few boundaries.

The flash of the motorcycle grew closer. Their moment would have to end soon. So, reluctantly, knowing she would make time for him later, Priestess let go of his hand and they went to greet their newest ally.