--Hold My Hand--

--J--

Grass swished around her feet and ankles, as she raced towards outlines of trees ahead, darker shades of She could not hear any of the innocent rustlings of grass of thicket, but screams echoed in her mind. She could not hear any pursuit, but she perceived it.

Her ragged, desperate breathing sounded too loud in her ears. Heartbeats shook her entire body, as new sounds rushed overhead, the terrifying sounds of more fighting, more ships. More clearly than the trees into which she fled were the shattered, disjointed memories burned into her mind.

Her father's face as he realized something was wrong. Dark ships overhead, as they raced back to the homestead. Four-eyed monsters coming out of nowhere. Her father's face melting like an overheated marshmallow. Her own scream of fear and horror as she wrenched the shotgun from his lifeless fingers. The spongy mass, exploding wetly from behind the monster as she unloaded both barrels into its head.

The images flickered, all the while wreathed in the screams and smoke coming from what was once the Shepard homestead. Running all that way came to nothing. The house nearly leveled, the barn razed to the foundations…and no doubt as to where the rest of the family was.

She did the only thing she could do: run.

The woodlands swallowed her up as dark clouds boiled overhead and driving wind whipped across the once productive fields. The back of her mind where human consciousness huddled, designated the woodlands as a milestone. She ought to have passed every gym final with flying colors.

Everything exploded. For a single moment she saw a cluster of creatures, then the monsters, close enough so she could make out their distinctive shapes. Several of pointed at her, even as weapons glowed faintly in too many hands.

Someone shouted, the sound joining with her own scream as something exploded halfway between the monsters and herself. She slammed back into the trees, landing roughly on the ground. She forced herself to her knees, willing her aching shoulders to move her arms, to prime the shotgun…

…and finished just in time to unload the weapon into the monster's chest, as it hurried towards her, while its fellows were busy. It fell back with a thud. Panic gave her hands enough instruction to prime the shotgun again.

"Someone get that bastard!"

"I got him, I got him!"

She threw herself behind a tree, tripping in her haste to present less of a target as the sounds of arguing weapons crescendoed, then died out. "You get him?" a sharp female voice demanded a moment later.

"With a shotgun? Must've been the kid."

Silence, then, gently, coaxingly, "Honey? You still out there?"

She hunkered down, her mouth very dry, her breathing unsteady. There was no way to prime the weapon silently…

"Hey, kid," this voice amore earnest one, male. "We're Alliance Navy kid, we're here to help. Come on out, now. It's safe."

She almost believed him. Her hands tightened on the shotgun again as she made to slip away. Safe? It wasn't safe. Rising to a half-standing position she made to creep away quietly…

"Gotcha."

She screamed, struggling with panic-induced strength greater than normal. Someone grabbed her shotgun barrel in one hand, the other arm trying to restrain her. She bit as hard as she could when a target presented herself. Her teeth sank into the rubberized coating of the armor.

"Whoa!"

The shotgun was wrenched from her hand. She yelped, freeing her teeth, writhing like a slippery fish caught by bare hands, her fingernails poised to find eyes…except there were no eyes, only a blank surface reflecting her own terrified face.

"She's out of her mind! Come on, sweetie…"

She stumbled back, suddenly let loose, drawing back a fist, for all the good it would do her.

Whack.

The blow to the breastbone dazed her in a way she never expected. Her knees gave out. She was not allowed to simply fall. Rather, she was lowered to the ground. A hiss, and the helmet came off, revealing a human face beneath. "It's okay, sweetheart," the woman was saying, her stern features crinkled into concern. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Glancing at the other shadows, one or two of whom had also removed helmets, she nodded slowly.

"Good, good."

The woman glanced past her at the others. "What's your name, baby-doll?"

She forced herself to look at the human. Human. Her jaw worked, her lips moved, but the remembrance of how to form words did not come. She shook her head.

Whether the woman understood the problem or not, she gave no inclination. "It's all right, honey. I'm Lieutenant Robbins, we're here to get you somewhere safe. Nod if you understand, me."

She nodded, then shook her head.

"'No', what?"

She pointed to the dead monsters, unable to explain the absence of any 'safe' places.

"She's out of it, LT."

Robbins pursed her lips. "Come on, sweetie, let's start walking." She pulled the girl to her feet.

For a moment the girl could see them clearly. Then Robbins' subordinates put their helmets back on. The moment discernibly human features vanished, panic blotted out every thought save one: the humans were gone. She let a strangled scream, her mind cranking back up to fever-pitch.

One small hand clamped around Robbins' wrist so tightly the woman could feel it through her armor. The girl's face said it all. The lack of recognition of fellow humans when she could not see a face. Terror at being left alone, or meeting more monsters. The need to make sure she did not lose track of the one person she could still identify as human.

Her face screamed, 'hold my hand'.

"Maguire." He obediently raised his visor, so human eyes peered out of the helmet. Robbins peeled the girl off her wrist, with considerable effort. Placing the girl's hand in Maguire's massive paw, she closed his fingers around it. "Hold her hand. Don't let go, now."

--J--