The Lost Ones

{A story about being alone.}

Zyon dreams he's being killed again. That weight on his chest is back, whispering the same words he's been telling himself for years. You promised.

He gasps awake, retching. With a thud and a meow, he's able to breathe again.

Zyon groans and puts his head in his hands. "It was you," he moans, "You did this to me, smack." The little black and gold fox-cat licks a paw and ignores him. "Don't pretend," Zyon growls, "I know you was sleeping on me."

"He was," Rose confirms. She's crouched on the other side of him, peering at the animal.

Her adopted brother jumps. He'd put the creature outside for just this reason. Rose wasn't supposed to see it. Now she could be held accountable and then she'd be Found and he'd be Found and suddenly the sheer stupidity of last night's actions come crashing down on Zyon. He presses his olive fingers to his temple, trying to block the headache he can feel coming.

"What is he?" she wants to know. She extends one hand over Zyon's body and the cat just walks right over him to get to her, completely ignoring its owner. "Can we keep him?"

Zyon bites his lip and figures she knows now, it would be kind of crumbly to pretend like it had never happened. Slowly, leaving out the bits that might scare her, he tells her the story of how he obtained the little thing. "It's called… I think they said an Umbreon," he finishes, "And I put him outside so you wouldn't get Found if I got caught."

Rose snorts down her nose. "It was darn near tellin' every smack for tracks 'round that you owned something the Father t'aint like. I let it in and fed it and it went to sleep on you. He's just so cute, Zy."

She's fallen in love already, he can see it in her eyes. His heart melts.

"Well, belle, he's gonna need a name and I haven't thought of one yet," he tells her, getting up and cracking his bones into place, "Maybe you know someone that can help me out."

The little girl instantly is all movement, following him through the house, the dark creature at her heels. "Oh! I got lots of names! I were thinking about it whiles you was sleeping."

Zyon rolls his eyes. "It's 'I was thinking about it while you were sleeping,' Rose. Get your grammar straight. This family is proper educated." He heads to the kitchen, feeling the way his muscles ache from the rowing last night. He doesn't know if it was worth it.

Rose jumps onto a stool while he makes first meal. She shakes off his correction and continues, "Yeah, I was thinking that we could name him something dark like him, right? 'Cause he's got a blackidy coat, right? So maybe Night? Or Blacky? Or Dark Fog? Or Soft Patches? Or Skipper? Or Jumper – I seen him jump, he jumps mighty fine for a kitten tale – or maybe it should be Quickidy?"

"Rose," he laughs, "Calm down there, baby. Let's take this a step at a time. I don't rightly mind namin' him something after his coloring, but let's make it something he can grow into, yeah?"

The seven-year old pouts a little, peering at the fox-cat through her hair. "Well," she says slowly, "Didn't you used to tell me a kitten tale about before the fog and the Father? You said there were – there was – a time when magics took the sun away. You said that not everyone could see it in all parts of the Father's kingdom, but if you stood in the right place at the right time, slowly the sun would turn into a sliver and then nothing at all. It made darkness in the middle of a train and nothing could stop it."

Zyon smiles as he slices tubers. "An eclipse," he nods, "I'm surprised you remember that."

She looks down to the creature and holds out her fingers. "What do you think, darling? Can we call you Eclipse?"

The lithe animal jumps into her lap and curls up, kneading her thighs with his tiny claws. She giggles and strokes his soft fur, trailing her fingers around the yellow circles on him. She sends Zyon a sly look. "Say," she grins, "I don't suppose crumbly Lawrence has got one of these. He thinks he's sky but he's nothin' without Eclipse."

The teen sends her a worried glance as he mashes their porridge. "You know it t'aint safety to tell anyone, ok Rosie? Not a single smack. It'll get me and you Found afore you can blink."

She straightens her shoulders. "I know," she states, "I just kinda like bein' better than somebody."

=={Jack and Jill}==

She wakes up to Harper screaming. Rence doesn't think. She's sprinting for her sister's room before her body has even registered that there is a problem. The screams continue and Rence swears, shouldering the door open and finding the little one splayed on the floor, her limbs contorted with agony.

"Oh, Father, no," Rence whispers, dropping to her knees and crawling to Harper, "My girl…"

She's seen this before, the blind anger and pain of the sickness. She fights off her sister's wild thrashes and crushes the Harper's torso into her body, muffling the sounds of her sister's shrieks and stilling her movements.

Rence closes her eyes and takes the bruises.

After a while, the fit subsides and Harper falls asleep in her arms. Rence holds her tight and buries her face in her sister's hair. It smells like smoke.

"That was the third one in seven trains." Billie's voice comes from the doorframe. She's been there the entire time, Rence figures. They both know better than to crowd Harper during a fit. "They're gettin' closer together, just like the doc said." She sounds calm. Unaffected.

"Her hair's about halfway changed too," Rence croaks, "We're runnin' outta time, ma."

"She keeps screamin' like that, some smack is gonna hear her. Best not be around when she gets Found," Billie states, turning, "Put her down and come eat your first meal."

Rence does as she's told.

=={went up}==

Carrie wakes up to screaming and her groan escapes her throat. She puts one arm over her eyes and lets out a long groan. "Father Almighty, you two," she shouts, "I said not when it's early."

The pitter-pat of tiny feet bustle over to her. She doesn't open her eyes. She can feel their presence in the room. She lets out a fake snore, hoping to get them to leave.

"She's a-restin' I guess," the first young voice says in a whisper. She identifies it instantly. Jerome. Dear, sweet Jerome.

"Maybe we should prank her," he suggests. She holds in a scowl. Terrible, evil Jerome.

"I got a plan," says his twin, "We can tie her to the bed. Ma's got some rope in the kitchen." Dustin sounds legitimately excited by the idea.

"I'll kill you both," she answers without opening her eyes, "Don't think your ma won't let me."

"You wouldn't dare," Dustin challenges her, "Ma'd kill you back."

Carrie grins at the two six-year-olds. "You wanna bet your life on that, Dustin Green?"

She roars and swings herself out of bed, chasing the twins and their giggles out of her room. She catches them in the kitchen, wrapping them in a giant hug and ignoring their shrieks. She lands kisses on them, pretending to eat them up.

"You best stop makin' munchies outta my boys," a warm voice interrupts her, "You'll have no room for first meal." The woman speaking is a round, sweet lady with more smiles than hairs on her head. The boys wrestle out of Carrie's arms and run to their mother, laughing.

The teen stands up, grinning. "Sorry Miss Kate. They're just so awful tasty," she states, stretching her bones. Her sleeping clothes are getting small. She can feel where the shirt rides up her torso.

"Ma, Carrie said she'd teach us knives this train. Can we?" Jerome wants to know.

"Dunno," Kate says slowly, as if they didn't have the same conversation every day, "Is your chores 'bout done?"

The two blonde-haired boys nod in tandem. Their mother makes as if she's thinking, humming as she turns down the hallway. "That's awful funny," she says, "Because last I looked, your beds were unmade, you still have not cleaned your room, and the animals aint been fed proper and the barn aint been swept, neither. Funny indeed."

"But ma," Jerome groans, "That's awful work. Can't we just learn?"

Carrie laughs at their pleas as she shadows the woman to the large kitchen. She'd been staying with the Green family for the past six wheels, helping with their barn in exchange for food and lodging.

Kate sends her a look. "Porridge is up. Figured you might want some after last night's bout. Awful close, that one."

The teen drops her eyes to her hands. "Yeah. Kas needs some work."

"It'd help if you could get him that fire stone thing the nurse told you about," Kate admits, opening her cabinet door.

The woman shrieks, slams it shut, puts one hand over her heart and does her best not to swear. "Carrie Ashlyn," the woman growls, "I better not have just seen what I think I did."

Carrie pales. "Uh," she pads over and checks, "You did."

Her bug is squatting on the shelf, cleaning its tiny pincers. There weren't many that could find the beauty in a creature like this, but Carrie had found him broken and starving in the gutters of the streets, way back before she'd even heard of Havoc. Then she'd met Prime and everything had changed.

"You know the rule about bugs in my kitchen," Kate snarls. "Don't make me tan your hide, Miss 'Lyn. I might not be your mama but so help me, I will put you over one knee and spank you."

The threat is very real. Carrie winces and bundles the feather-light shell into her arms, apologizing. "I'll take him outside," she says, "I don't know how he got in." She darts out of the house before Kate can make good on her word.

Havoc in the light of the early fog is beautiful. Most people wake up before first whistle because there are animals to take care of and bets to place. Carrie loves the way her adopted farm is seated right in the middle of a metropolis. Lots of folks had barns and pastures settled right next to marketplaces and main roads. The first time she'd come here, she'd been so skinny she could count her ribs.

She releases her pet from her grasp, frowning. It beats its wings and floats in front of her. She puts her hands on her hips.

"Reikon," she uses his full name so he knows it's serious, "You're gonna get us kicked out if you keep actin' like that. You know Miss Kate aint too fond of the bug-ly types, and you, my friend, are a bug-ly type indeed."

Rei stares at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she scoffs, "Imma tie you up, you keep actin' crumbly like this. Now you stay here. You're officially grounded, smack." She turns on her heel, wiping her hands off on her pants.

"Lyn?" a voice calls for her, and she whips around, fingers instantly going for where she keeps her knives. When she grasps nothing, she remembers that she's in her sleeping clothes and someone is about to see her.

She's about to just run for it, but the boy steps into view, peering at her from over the fence. "Well, howdy, stranger," he smiles, "I thought I heard you speaking."

"Jason," she sighs. "Don't sneak up on me. I woulda killed you dead."

"Aw, shucks. You'd use your knives on me? I'm flattered, girl." The farmer boy leans on the fence post and winks at her. "I see someone just woke up."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll knock you out if you keep this up," she calls over her shoulder, turning to go. "I'll see you later, sweetie."

Jason hollers a goodbye as she shuts the door behind her. He's got to be the kindest thing this side of the lake, and he also holds the honor of being the first person she's ever trusted. The list of people who have managed since then isn't very long.

Carrie grabs a bowl and gulps down her porridge, wrangling the twins and cleaning the counter. "Where's the rest of the Green family herd?" she smiles, slapping Jerome's fingers away from the cookies, "I'd of thought Ida at least would be buzzin' around askin' for knife lessons like usual."

"Well," Kate sighs, and then sends Carrie a look. "I'll tell you after you hop outta them sleepin' clothes, miss 'Lyn. Don't you think I don't know you're escapin' work by wearin' 'em." She shoos the blonde out of her kitchen.

The minute the door to her room closes behind her, Carrie's grin drops from her face and sets into a firm line. Slowly her fingers trace the scars along her body.

She closes her eyes. Prime had eased her up onto a counter and had frowned at the sight of them. She'd looped her fingers into his hair playfully, trying to distract him from the horror of her body. He had started at her ankles and whispered if I was to count these, would I run out of numbers or scars faster?

Now she has ripples where smooth should be. Jason had seen her in these threadbare too-short clothes. He'd probably noticed just how broken she was and now he was going to leave her, just like everyone else had.

She takes off her pants and her shirt and stands in her underwear. She catches a glimpse of herself in the reflection on the window. Smile on her lips, cuts on her hips.

Prime had run out of numbers before he'd reached her knees.

=={the hill]==

"Beck?"

Beckett opens one eye and stares at the little boy in front of him.

The child blushes. "Your pa said it t'weres fine to wake you. Sorry. I… I didn't mean nuthin' by it." He shuffles his feet and continues, "My… my pa says not to try this 'cause we can't afford it and he reckons she's not long for this world anyhow, but…." He trails off and offers up a bundle of food. "T'aint mighty much but…But it's for my ma." He loses his voice again.

Beck is out of bed in an instant. He pulls on his clothes and sends a look the kid's way. "You got a name?" he asks, slinging his medical bag out from its hiding place.

"It's, uhm, it's Will, sir," he stammers, "Does this mean you're gonna help her?"

The teen cracks his knuckles and pads to the kitchen. His dad waves awkwardly and Beck ignores him. "Well, kiddo," he tells Will, "If you show me where she is, I'll see what I can do."

==[to spend}==

It's still early when Deeter meets her in their hiding space out by the dead fisher docks. Her puppy is waiting for her, and the minute that she sees him, all the anxiety from the morning washes off of her.

"Baby," she sighs, pulling him into her. He yips and she laughs and Deeter takes a moment to catch his breath.

He hands Snow a tuber and crouches next to Rence. "Well, you can't call him Baby 'less you want folks to think you're crumbly," he grins. Snow chirrups happily and runs around their makeshift room.

Rence pulls a face. "Fog," she swears, "I aint got the kinda mind for names, Deets. How the Father am I supposed to pull one outta a hat when I don't even like mine?" The small dog nips at her fingers and she hands him food, stroking the back of his neck.

"Well," Deeter takes out his first meal and starts eating, "I don't suppose you wanna call him Sparky?"

"I don't suppose," she laughs. "Maybe Ember or Puppy, huh?"

"Oh," he notes, letting Snow crawl up his arm and over his shoulder, "Tonight's my first… fight, I guess. It's nothin' too big and it t'aint got much ridin' on it, but I was thinkin' maybe you could be there with Baby."

Rence slaps him a little. "Yes I'm gonna come! Father couldn't stop me. Crumbs, Deeter, you woulda thought you mentioned it afore." Her lips become a line. "And his name is not Baby."

"Well that just leaves Mittens or Doggy in the name database," he grins.

Her hazel eyes cut to him. She rubs at her jawbone. "Hey, Deeter," she mutters eventually, "…Thanks for all this."

His heart stops beating for a second. He shrugs. "I'm the best at naming things, I guess," he grins. She punches him in his arm and laughs and Deeter feels himself wishing again. He digs his nails as far into his palms as they will go.

=={some time]==

Nisse has her ankles crossed and her hair to regulation and her clothes updated and she's still worrying about being Found. Her eyes stay on the teacher and her notes stay perfect, but it might not be enough.

There's an empty seat next to her where Neil used to be. Everyone in the room pretends not to notice it.

She looks down at her page. Her hands are shaking. She holds them tightly closed until they stop. No weakness here. Not in the Heights. Not where the Father could see.

Neil. When she closes her eyes, she can see his smile the first time they'd met. He'd run her first name and her middle together whenever he talked to her. On her first day here, she'd tripped and skinned her knee. He'd pulled her to her feet. Welcome to the Heights, he'd said, Don't let them see you hurt.

Nisse didn't show it now. She sat through the lesson and picked up her books and thanked the teacher on the way out the door, just like everyone else.

"Until the morrow, Miss Hayley," she smiles, "It was a lovely class today."

Miss Hayley's eyes are red and puffy. She's been crying again. She always did that when one of her students were Found. It's entirely too soft for the Heights. "Thank you, Stephanie." She slides a piece of paper over to her. "I finished grading your work. Good train to you."

The black-haired teen is maybe new to the Heights, but she grew up on the streets. She doesn't mention that she hadn't handed in anything. She just nods and folds it neatly into her bag.

She takes the long way back to her house, ducking her head and making the polite Heights noises that she's grown unfortunately used to. Everyone here walks the same way, chin level to the ground and grin plastered to their faces. She does it without thinking.

How long has it been? She knows it's less than a wheel. Her father had been so excited that she'd been accepted into a Heights school. Stephie, he'd said, beaming, Do you know how rare that is?

Nisse had been so proud of herself. She'd tried on the Heights clothes and cut her hair and ran to the streets to find her sister in their usual spot.

Her twin had been horrified. You can't go up there, Nie. T'aint safety. They'd fought about it. Nisse had stormed off, leaving her sister calling her name desperately.

They hadn't spoken since.

When people ask her how she is liking the Heights, she tells them it is the best experience of her life. She is so very blessed to be a part of this community.

Every morning she goes out and watches the train take the Departed away. Every morning she convinces herself not to join them.

=={with Father}==

Will's mother is on the other side of town and Beck can already tell she's bad just stepping into the house. Her coughing rings down the hallway.

He opens the door of their room and finds a thin woman curled up on a floor mattress. The husband shakes Beck's hand and sends a concerned to look to his wife.

"I'm Sam. Will wasn't supposed to get you," he grumbles, "I know you're busy 'n' the like. We can't afford to pay you, not really."

"Do I have your permission to examine your wife, sir?" Beck asks, already stepping to kneel by her side.

Sam shuffles awkwardly. "I mean, I suppose so, but… Beck, son. I know how much you do for others, but I think it's the sickness. Aint a cure in the Father's kingdom for that."

Beck lifts his eyes to the downcast man. "Sir," he states, "All due respect, that don't mean I'm not gonna try."

He runs his hands over her body, feeling her fever. He talks to her as he does so, trying to get a response. She shows no signs of noticing him, and the coughing doesn't stop. When he puts one ear to her back, he can hear the rattle in her chest. He frowns and digs around in his bag for the medical equipment he has spent all eighteen wheels of his life accruing.

His mother used to sing him to sleep, her sweet voice in his ears. He hadn't been able to save her.

Beck knows what the sickness looks like, so his diagnosis is quick. He stands up and hands Sam a bottle of tiny, chopped up leaves. Sam looks baffled.

"T'aint the sickness," Beckett explains, shouldering his pack, "Though I understand why you'd think that, honestly." He stifles a yawn and pulls himself to his full height, easily outmatching Sam. "Just sprinkle a few of those in her water and get her to drink a sip every fifteen tracks. Use a pinch per glass and come get me when you run out. In three trains or so, your missus should be up and feelin' fine."

The look of relief that spreads across Sam's face poison's Beckett. That's what a husband should look like.

"Beck… I can't… I can't explain to you… how grateful I am…" the man stammers, tears in his eyes. It occurs to Beck they can't be more than six wheels apart from each other.

"Oh… Afore I forget. I know there was the matter of my payment," Beckett notes. Sam stiffens. The healer ignores it and continues, "You know the leaves and the stringy bits on the yellow tubers? The ones everyone takes off and uses as mulch? I'd like it if you could give me some. Turns out when it's boiled with somethin' else, it makes a mighty fine burn heal."

"That's it?" Sam's incredulous, "That's all you want?"

Beck shrugs. "It's all I need."

By the time the lean teenager is out of the door, his bag is half-full with a sack of leftovers. Like most people did, Sam had also handed over enough food for first meal. It wasn't a whole lot, but it meant something more.

He's not gone four steps before someone finds him. He's not very surprised. Once you chose to be any kind of healer, you found a million and one places to be and a million and two problems to solve. It kept him out of the house, at the very least.

It's Landa that wants him. He started teaching her things about a wheel ago to lighten his load, and she's already almost better than he is.

The minute he sees the look on her face, he knows what's happened.

"Show me," he says, running before she's even opened her mouth, "Go."

She does as she's told, sprinting through the houses. Most people in this part know Beck and they know to get out of the way when he's running. Landa's starting to get the same reaction, so when it's the two of them in a full-out dead sprint, people make room.

Landa flies through the lanes and throws open the door to a house, calling out. Beck's right behind her when they barge into the room that answering shouts are coming from. He doesn't even have time to take it all in, because he's throwing his bag down and pointing to the people in the room to help him put a stretcher together. Landa's getting the rope out of her pack and he finds a length of cloth, throwing it to a woman.

"Soak this in…" his fingers snatch a thick amber bottle, "This. Let me know when the entire thing is coated. Try not to breathe too hard." She does so frantically, tears streaking down her face.

Landa kneels on one side of the patient who is screaming at the top of his lungs and thrashing around. Her fingers dance for the pulse and the respiration and the fever. He thinks she looks practiced, calm. When she first came to him, she'd thrown up at the sight of blood. "He's been here a full ten trains longer 'n we thought," she tells Beck, "Father must be busy up at the Heights to overlook him."

The woman hands her the soaked rag and Landa shoves it into the boy's mouth. Instantly he passes out. The two struggle the rope around the thin patient's torso, but then they get to his legs. Beck freezes. Maybe he's only been doing this for three wheels, but he's never seen it like this. He wants to choke but he doesn't.

"He's had that for a train now," the woman sobs.

Beck doesn't comment. He doesn't have time. They had to get him outside and out of this house before the Father came, or else the entire block could be Departed on the next train, Beck and Landa included.

They move quickly, trussing up the boy and throwing him onto a gurney.

Landa freezes. "Have you said goodbye?" she asks the mother. The woman shakes her head and puts one hand on her little boy. No one moves as her lips whisper a prayer. Silence falls.

From a great distance, they hear the Father's cry.

"Go," Landa hisses, picking up her end of the makeshift stretcher, "We're out of time."

Beck doesn't need to be told twice. The minute he's outside, he can hear the sirens and the wing-beats of the Father, he can hear that howl that has haunted every memory of his mother since she was taken from him.

He has never run so fast in his life. "We don't have time to get to the lake," he shouts to Landa, "Find somewhere deserted."

She does as she's told, her golden hair whipping out behind her. She skids into an empty town square and drops the body. The boy's eyes open.

Beck watches all of the steel melt out of Landa at once. "I'm sorry," she whispers, cutting his bindings with a quick slash, "We couldn't risk it."

"Let's go," Beck growls, his eyes on the sky, the keen getting closer, "Landa, come on."

The blonde drops by the boy's side and puts her hands on his face. She meets his changed eyes. "You are loved," she tells him, "We do not and we will not forget you."

The boy whinnies in fear and tries to stand, but the sickness in his legs tangle him and he tumbles to the ground. Beck wraps one hand around Landa's skinny wrists and tugs her away. "I'm sorry," she calls to the boy, "I'm so sorry."

The heat of the Father is already close. Beck yanks her along in his path until she finally gets her feet under her, and then the two of them find cover in an alleyway that Beck hopes is far enough.

He closes his eyes as the screech gets louder. He wraps Landa to his chest. He can feel her sob. The heat and the screams and the wings and the fury take his brain. He just waits for it to be over, waits for the moment he can wake up and this can be a nightmare story, waits for the moment when he can relax and tell people there was nothing he could do, they were going to be Departed, plain and simple.

The first time he had been this close to someone being Found had also been the last time he had seen his mother.

Landa cries and cries and cries.

=={but Jack broke down}==

He finds her in the streets again, picking the skin off of some kind of tuber. "My, my, my. Well, if it isn't Aubree Rose," he grins, sitting next to her.

She goes from killer to kind in an instant. "Maybe you should do better than sneak up on a streets kid, Zy. That kinda crumbly behavior gets smacks Departed."

He leans back on their pile of trash and picks a shiny out of the dirt. "I've been up to a lot of rather crumbly behavior lately," he smiles. She cuts her eyes to him and scans the area for listeners. "Yeah," he yawns, "I decided I was friends with this Bree smack. T'aint been a day. Bet she wants to cut my throat one train."

Aubree rolls her eyes and flicks her hair back. "Nah," she states, "I doubt that. I think that sounds like too much trouble. Way I see it, Zyon, you gon' get yourself did in without her help."

He sits up abruptly and she has to remind herself that he's not going to kill her. Her fingers are already around a blade anyway, just out of force of habit.

"Hey," he smiles, "I was wonderin' if after some streets huntin' you might join me on a walk of our fair civilization. There might be a few things I would like to talk to you 'bout."

She sizes him up, testing the weight of her trust and the weight of her training. "Surely," she says finally, "I got a story 'bout my little sister you'd like."

Zyon laughs and admits he has one too. She watches him sling himself to standing, lean muscle and unkempt hair, the old youth of the streets written in his face. She knows better than to trust anyone explicitly, but for some reason he makes her rethink that rule.

She shakes herself of the uncertainty. She can still take him. After all, she's a girl.

=={and got too loud}==

Nisse has a job she'd rather not hold down. It's nothing compared to the streets and she's not gone a day hungry, but she'd take anything to get out of the tedium of it.

"Hello, Stephanie," says every person who passes her position, "I'm here to obtain my rations. Would you mind if I got them myself?"

Nisse always says that they are allowed to search the aisles for whatever it is they're looking for. She secretly hates the idea of getting something for someone else, even if that meant she got to do something.

Then they come back with their boxes or bags or whatever and she checks and double-checks their ration tags and swipes them with a scanner and weighs them and calculates their volume and at one point when she was learning how to do this, she wondered if it would be faster to just ask the customer for a blood sacrifice.

Neil usually swung by around the fourth signal, pretending that he had something to look for. He used to slip her little math puzzles to keep her busy.

She can't tell if she misses the distraction or she misses him.

When she gets home, she smiles to her father and slips upstairs. She waits until all of her work is finished perfectly before she takes out the paper Miss Hayley gave her.

It is blank except for the words You need to get out of here.

=={now}==

Nikka can't breathe. It happens sometimes when she stays in the streets too long – suddenly it all felt like it was collapsing in on her.

She starts running on her tattered feet, forgetting to put one hand on the walls. She's lost before she realizes what's happening.

Her chest gets tighter. Her mind starts blanking. She can't inhale. It all starts going black and the ground swooshes up at her.

Hands catch her. At first she fights them but her terror eats her so completely that she can't even see.

"Easy," a smooth voice says, "You're going to be just fine. Here, eat this."

She clenches her jaw and snakes her head away from the offered substance, but eventually the stranger gets it in her mouth. She instantly calms, sucking in a deep breath, swallowing whatever it was.

"Father Almighty," she breathes, "Thank you kindly." She lifts her eyes to her savior. It's a spidery teen with eyes like ivy. He grins with straight teeth.

"I'm Prime," he offers, "And think nothing of it. I knew someone who suffered panic attacks when I was younger, and quite by accident she and I discovered a cure for it."

She presses her palms against her forehead. "I don't know about panic attacks," she admits, "But you certainly saved me proper, Prime. I'm Nikka."

"Well how could I let such a pretty girl as yourself be taken in by such a little weakness? If I hadn't stepped up, why, the Father should have Found me where I stood." He leaks charisma from every pore. The only problem is that he speaks like a Heights person, all polished and dictated. But still. He did just practically save her life. If she'd passed out in the streets, the best she could hope for was waking up with no possessions left.

She pushes her hair out of her face without thinking and regrets it. He catches sight of her face.

Her lips narrow. He's probably regretting that comment about prettiness right now. "It was nice meeting you," she mumbles, assuming he's gonna run in the opposite direction as fast as he can, "See you around."

He holds out one hand and puts it on her shoulder. "Don't go," his voice is soft and light and kind, "Please, Nikka." He slowly turns her to face him, gently brushing the hair out of her face. His fingers trace her scars. "Little girl," he whispers, "Who has hurt you in this way?"

Nikka falls in love.

=={Jill}==

Carrie bites off a piece of her bittersweet fruit and hands the rest to her tiny fire fox. He chews it happily and she has to shake his fur off her fingers before setting into her own meal.

She yawns and stretches, kicking her boots out in front of her. "Yikes," she says, "Long day."

"It's only 'bout half over," the sweet voice of Jason tells her, looking at her over bales of hay, "What could be so possible long 'bout it?"

"Well for one," she grins, "I had to see your crumbly face." She takes her eyes off the few bites of a tuber she has left and Kas licks it. She rolls her eyes and lets him have the rest, curled up on her lap. He'd been slower in trusting her than Rei had been, but that was because she had to integrate him into a family that was already impossibly close.

Jason snorts down his nose. "Might as well just admit you're jealous, sweetie. Can't everyone look as wonderous as this."

"You going to the fights tonight?" she wants to know, smoothing the fur between Kas's shoulder blades. There's a mat of blood on his ribs that she has yet to comb out for fear of hurting the healing skin.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Nat's home alone so… I think I'm gonna stay in." He looks down at his hands. "And I…"

Jason trails off and Carrie looks up. She rolls her eyes. He's sleeping standing up, balanced against his pitchfork. His narcolepsy has to be her favorite part of him.

She lets him rest, picking up Kas and dancing carefully out of the barn. Rei's waiting for them, hovering at his usual level. She puts her fox on the ground and pulls out a knife. "Ready for some practice?" she asks the two of them. Kas yawns and goes to sleep and Rei, as usual, makes no notice of having heard her.

She flips a blade at a fence post across the yard. It sticks in the wood, quivering.

Her daddy had shown her how to throw and handle knives. And then he had died.

=={has}==

Aubree takes him the streets way to the lake so they don't have to worry about being seen in the barely fading light of the fog. In the boat on the way there, Zyon tells her the story of naming Eclipse, laughing as the tiny black fox and the lithe lavender cat make friends. They eat their dinner in the middle of rowing. Off in the distance, Zyon can hear the whistle blow. Rose is safely under the protection of their neighbors, waiting for him to come home from Havoc.

They land and tie up the dingy, Vi tripping Zyon only about a hundred times as she weaves through his feet.

"So today," Bree says as the door opens for them, "I thought I'd take you to see some battles. I mean, that's the whole point of this, right?"

Zyon nods and lets her take him through the city. He's still uncomfortable with how unevenly distributed the technology is. He walks by farms and apartments just the same. It's loud here, loud and exultant as the night falls.

She takes him through the streets and he holds Eclipse close to him, his heart beating loudly. She pulls him into a large warehouse where he can already hear chanting and shouting.

"This is where a lot of beginner battles take place," she calls over the din, "There's usually four going on at once, in each corner."

He turns to look and for one intensely terrifying moment, can't find her again. When he does locate her wavy blonde hair, relief floods him enough to grab her hand. She snarls until she sees who it is and then the look is gone.

"I can't lose you," he tells her, "I hope you don't mind."

Zyon's hand fits perfectly around hers. She shrugs and weaves them both through the crowd until they are at the outer ring of a fight. It's a tiny brown bird against a large purple and tan moth. By the cuts and bruises present on both the creatures, the battle's been rough so far.

"Ok," says Bree. He doesn't hear her so she has to step closer and put her lips to his ear. "So how it works is that there are two colors." She points to the bracelet around each person's wrist. "Today it's maroon and yellow. If you're not part of the fight, you can choose a color and bet on it. Say I thought that moth was crumbly – it is, by the way, the only reason it hasn't lost is because that's an awful weak bird – but say you thought it was crumbly and you wanted to put your food on maroon for the bird. Well," she drags his attention to the numbers over the fight ring, "This is corner three and fight six. So I'd find someone in charge of bets and say maroon, three, six and put down whatever I thought was appropriate."

The bird's owner shouts an attack and the little bird shakes the sand from its dusty wings into a flurry. Everyone on the sidelines groans and Bree has to pause to spit out debris.

"Any way," she coughs, shifting Vi in her arms, "The more people that bet on one side, the less payoff you have if that side wins. That's why some folks take the crazy bet instead. Sometimes there are comebacks, after all, and those payoffs are huge. Not usually in these rankin's, but sometimes."

Zyon nods and lets Eclipse use his shoulder as a better vantage point. "Well what about…?" he starts, but she shakes her head.

"Wait, it gets crumbly more complicated. Another way to make money is to bet on a color for the whole night, either in one corner or the whole event. Now this don't mean it wins every time, but it does mean that by the end of the night, maroon would have won more times 'n yellow. Or you can make a bet on one color for all the battles that are happening right now. There's lots of different ways to make fast food, but at the same time, there's lots of different ways to lose it all."

The crowd gasps as the little brown pigeon skitters to one side and slams against the ground. It stands up and rushes forwards, hitting the moth in the center of its thorax.

"Ok," Zyon says slowly, "That's… Well, that's fine, but do you wanna explain just what happens if you're in the ring?" He apologizes for his sass by sending her a quick smile.

She shrugs. "That's all up to you. Usually it's one versus one until someone gives in. You don't see two until the higher levels. If you win, you get food. You don't win, you lose food. Don't mess up. Sign up for as many battles as you want in the day, fight at night. That's about it."

The moth falls from the sky. "That's about it," Zyon repeats quietly. The bug's owner slumps to his knees and buries his face in his hands.

Zyon holds Eclipse just a little bit tighter.

=={got}==

"Don't worry, Deeter," Rence tells him, holding her puppy close, "Snow's sky. She'll hold up just fine."

He can hear the rumble of the crowd downstairs. The other scheduled battle members ignore the two teens as they await their turn. His heart is louder than her words.

"Maroon, huh?" she grins, "I got a lot ridin' on you, smack."

Deeter rolls his eyes. "Don't you lie to me," he states, "You don't got nothing ridin' on me. You just learned how the bettin' works, smack."

She shrugs, grinning that one-million-volt powerhouse smile that could stun the Father. The effect is dulled by the battle moderator calling his name. The minute he hears it, he feels his heart drop.

Rence sees his panic and squeezes his hand. "I'm gonna be right there the whole time, ok?"

Her skin is smooth and warm. It doesn't help him breathe. He manages to make his way down the ladder from the attic space, slipping only twice. He gets led to the center of the third ring. Rence is right there near him, her eyes dancing. His eyes land on a girl with a purple cat and a boy with a black fox, holding hands. He thinks of Rence and closes his fingers into fists.

The yellow team turns out to be a girl, her little green bird perched on her shoulder. Deeter bites his lip and the mediator waves his hand lazily, signaling the start.

Deeter doesn't even hear the girl say anything, but the bird takes off anyway, suddenly dangerous. It flickers in and out of existence, hitting Snow each time. Well, Snow could disappear too. "Use my clothes for cover, Snow," he tells her. Her tiny ears flick and she skitters under his shirt line. The crowd roars and he reminds himself to ignore it. All that matters is Snow. And Rence. His eyes find the teens that are holding hands, the blonde girl leaning up to say something to the lean olive-skinned boy, who laughs.

Since he's not watching, he doesn't see the bird until it's too late. It slams into his side, winding him and getting Snow out in the open. "Snow, spark that thing, babe," he says, trying to catch his breath.

She runs her little paws over her cheeks and shudders. Blue forks across the space and catches the bird in the chest. The room smells like cooking and he can practically hear Rence's stomach growling. The bird falls from the sky and the white squirrel uses the opportunity to jump at it, sending it flying into the ground at a harsh angle. Everyone winces as it hits the floor. It doesn't get up.

Snow skitters back to her owner and he sweeps her into his arms. "Lovely girl," he tells her, "You're perfect, honey." He turns to Rence, who is beaming.

"Told you it was gonna be sky," she says, pressing herself close to him so he can hear her. He thinks about how easy it would be to kiss her, but then her sly look is back. "Let's go collect your winnings, smack," she says, tugging him along by his wrist.

He thinks about the boy and the girl holding hands and realizes at least he has Rence.

=={no brother.}==

Sammy stays awake for a long time, feeling the fingerprints people have left on him.

When he goes outside, he can hear things move inside him. He walks until he finds a deserted area of town. There's rope and a gag lying in the center and he thinks it's not very clean of them to just leave it there. They ought to be Found.

He hears screaming coming from a house and thinks how terrible, this sickness.

Sammy goes and finds a small girl in the streets. She's lost and alone. He kills her and takes her clothes.

XXXXXXX

A.N: Yikes please bear with me while I get this back on schedule! This means there will be a big gap so next Friday is my update time. Haha this is why you shouldn't decide on a Thursday to restart something due on Fridays.

New cast playthings, in order of how they're open on my tabs:

Beckett Dane: FirebirdXoX
Carrie Ashlyn: Fear The Pika
Stephanie "Nisse" Starlette: Akiza Izayoi
Jason Tiber: reven228

Ok so if you're new and you're reading this, feel free to send me people to put through Havoc ;)

Oh and before I forget... I actually have no idea what to name Rence's Growlithe, so go ahead and leave me a suggestion in your review :) Thanks so much!

Hope you liked this week's installment of my nightmares :)

Take Care.