A/N: Hey guys! Been busy. Hope you enjoy the next part of the story for you.

Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing - yardeyardeyah.

Victoria.

I've found a world where love and dreams and darkness all collide.

The best way to love is to love like you've never been hurt.

- Unknown.

Endless stretches of desert. It was getting painful to look at. Was there nothing else left in the world? The rolling hills of sand, the cloudless sky, the hot, beating sun - all of them almost made me wish I'd stayed in my mall. Almost. I knew it was an unrealistic thought, I'd be dead by now. But the world just seemed so lifeless, it was painful to look at. So instead, I wrenched my gaze from the trucks front window to stare at the man by my side.

Firm, calloused hands gripped the steering wheel. His forearms were tensed, the burnt ochre skin stretched over war-hardened muscles. His arms were lined with weapon holsters - knives, guns, stranger weapons I haven't the name for. A short sleeved black t-shirt, covered by his old, worn out bullet proof black vest, complete with faded umbrella logo. And all of this, of course, covers more defined muscle in his chest and shoulders. There was a light smattering of stubble across an almost-square jaw. Short, dark, spiky hair, more rich ochre skin and deep, drowning chocolate eyes completed the look.

"Carlos?"

His eyes were set straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed deeply, focusing on god-knows-what in this barren wasteland. Still he drove, foot never leaving the pedal through bump after bump, determindly following Otto's school bus, never wavering. Not that there was a road to follow. The more I stared, the more I realised he wasn't really seeing the road. He was focusing on something else entirely. A memory, perhaps. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Carlos," I repeated, vying for his attention.

He turned to look at me, a smile tugging the corners ofhis lips. His hands remained firmly on the wheel, his eyes constantly flickering back to the road, ensuring that our truck never ventured too close to the bus. "Yeah?" I struggled for words while I gazed at him, watching his eyes trace my long legs to the dashboard where they rested and then back to the - for want of a better word - road. "You alright?" His face was etched with concern. I considered making a bad joke, but things now days were too serious, it was not the time tobe making jokes.

"I'm fine. Where were you at?"

He grinned. "What do you mean? I'm right here."

I shook my head, a smile of my own etched onto my face. Carlos was always so literal. I could never tell if it were a constant joke or if he was socially inept in this way - maybe due to his upbringing, or simply because marines and trained killers like himself just don't have the capability to understand generalisations. Far fetched, at best. "That's not what I meant. It looked like you were focusing really hard on something. What were you thinking about?"

He turned his gaze ahead, the grin slipping from his face. "Nothing. The tank's running on empty," he pointed out.

I looked at the gas reading. He was right. But then, it seemed that nowadays we were always running on empty. Plus, I'd leanred to notice when Carlos was lying. And I always knew it would have been for my own benefit. I'd been told that Carlos was at Racoon City, at the beginning of it all. That he'd seen worse things than most others had to cope with - whisperings of worse monsters than the walking dead. That he'd watched all his team - men that had counted on him - die. LJ said that the events at Racoon and what happened afterwards had broken him. Carlos never spoke about these things. He just threw on his beautiful smile and hid all the pain I knew was deep down inside.

LJ had told me, though. How six of them had survived Racoon City - Carlos, LJ, one of Carlos' men - Nicholai, a STARS officer - Jill, an Umbrella operative, much like Carlos - Alice, and a young girl - Angela Ashford. I'd heard vague stories about how Angela had died, how the woman, Alice, had selfishly fled. How Jill and Nicholai got separated from Carlos and LJ.

It was the stories about Alice that had bothered me the most, though. How she'd been the one to save them all from Racoon, how Umbrella had experimented on her, bringing her back from the brink of death. And finally, how she had run away. How she could be so selfish, so cowardly. When LJ had spoken of her, I'd detected awe and reverance in his voice - but also anger, disappointment and hate. Whatever she'd done was bad.

Carlos never spoke of her at all.

"Carlos?" I repeated.

He once again turned to look at me, the smile I longed for no more than a ghostly echo.

"Are you going to be alright?"

I often wondered what he thought about. LJ had hinted at a depth of despar to Carlos. I hadn't believed it at the time, he just seemed like such a happy person. That was before I realised he was simply better at hiding it. LJ had said his true sadness was Alice's fault, for what she'd done. Maybe that's what he thought about. Maybe that's what made him so sombre. I hope not.

"Yeah, of course." And there was that smile.

Both were lies.

"Just be careful," I insisted, loathe to relinquish my arms from their all-too-comfortable position - tangled around his neck, as it were. Carlos' arms were around my waist, I was pressed firmly against his vest. It was pissing me off. I hated that barrier there, but I knew why he wore it. It angered me that Carlos had more to protect himself against than just the undead. It angered me that he still percieved Umbrella as a viable threat.

It angered me that he was right.

His arms unlocked around me, and I supressed a sigh as I released him. He laughed gently - a rich, bubbling sound. "It's routine, Victoria. Don't worry about it. Just scouting for more supplies."

"I know that," I scolded, placing my hands defiantly on my hips. "I still want you to be safe."

He pressed his lips gently to my forehead, which, as always, made me flush with warmth. "I'll be fine. Make sure LJ doesn't get into any trouble." And with that, he was gone. I knew he'd be back, later tonight when the desert cold seeped deep into the bones of every last survivor in our little piss poor family we call a convoy. He'd be back, in no more than a few hours. It was just a routine scout. I knew the drill. I hated the drill. I'd begged to go with him, but he'd coerced me into staying with his ridiculous smooth talking.

"Dude, you look like a kicked dog - it's fucking hilarious!"

I didn't need to look around to see who was speaking. I threw my head back, looking at the sky. "Thanks a bunch, LJ. And please," I begged, spinning to face him, "stop calling me 'dude'." He was sitting on top of the bus, watching the sun redden as it reached the far horizon.

"Still don't get why you went for Carlos 'stead of me," he grinned. "How could you pass up all o' this?" He asked, gesturing broadly to himself. I meandered over to the bus, grabbing the rails and swiftly climbing up the ladder Otto and Claire decided to have nailed to the side of the bus. Before the world ended, I'd prided myself on my finesse. All survivors now were fit; though I'd still felt a string above the rest. When I'd met Carlos, it'd originally been a massive hit to my self esteem - he was faster, fitter than any other person I'd ever met. Apparently Umbrella taught him that.

"Because he was a hundred time more charming than you," I threw at him, a laugh bubbling in my throat. I strode across the top of the bus, and slid down beside LJ, swinging my legs over the side to join his. "Besides, you were already taken," I joked. "Where is Betty, anyway?"

"Somewhere, tending to some cuts and bruises." He waved his arm around vaguely as he spoke, firmly clutching the gun. I tried not to cringe. LJ had only accidently fired once. Or... twice. "Josh fell and broke his arm t'day. Little twat," he joked.

"Josh..." I trailed off, thinking. "Is that the six year old?" LJ nodded in confirmation. "Poor kid," I said absently. It's strange, to think of a child breaking a bone for the first time in a world where much much worse things were practically bound to happen to you at some stage or other.

"Victoria?" LJ asked hesitantly after a few minutes of silence. The joking had gone from his voice, there was a seriousness there that worried me. LJ had always been a joker - particularly back at the beginning of this all, Carlos had told me - but he'd also discovered a more sombre side to himself. LJ had been forced to realy grow up when the world ended; but I'd preferred the joking, the swearing. Lightheartedness was always more comfortable than facing the grim reality.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, just wanted to thank you." I looked at him, perplexed. He didn't look at me, but I sensed he could feel my dissent, my confusion. He continued accordingly. "Three months ago, if you'd asked me, I'd say Carlos was spiralling down a hole he'd never resurface from. He was so damn silent, all the time. Never smiled, or joked, or nothing. He'd been like that ever since Angie died." I'd heard about Angie - Angela. A sweet, tormented kid. Life's hardly fair. "You've helped. Taken his mind off of things. Thanks for that."

"Of course, LJ," I said slowly. There was something else. Something LJ was deliberating, something he didn't know if he should tell me. "LJ, what aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, sliding the gun into his pocket. "It wasn't just Angie, though. It was Alice."

My stomach dropped. "Alice?"

"Man, Umbrella. They fucked her up bad. Carlos always takes things to heart. Alice got us out of Racoon with her abilities. Girl was gorgeous, superhuman and kinda scary." This was the first I'd heard of her; but I'd owed her a lot if she was the one to save Carlos' life. It wasn't the first time I'd heard about Umbrella experimenting on humans. They had no respect for human life. The virus was proof of that. I stayed silent as LJ continued with his story. "She got us onto the helicopter by fighting off heaps of men. Carlos and Jill, they helped too. Both of them were great fighters." I knew of Jill, LJ and Carlos weren't sure if she was still alive - both her and Carlos' friend, Nicholai. "She sacrificed herself for Angie. Died for her. Umbrella fucked her up even more, they took her body, brought her back to life. She split a few weeks after we saved her from them. Carlos really hated that - losing Angie, getting separated from Jill and Nicholai, and then having Alice just ditch like that. Plus, you know, Carlos felt kind of like it was his fault they tortured her like that. He was convinced he should have saved her - just like he tries to save evey last fucking person, even at the cost of his own life."

"Yeah, that heroism really gets on my nerves," I joked. But we both knew my heart was in my throat. "I'm normally more for the bad boys, not the heroes."

"Shit, and you didn't choose me?" He grinned.

I shook my head, letting the smile take me. "No, LJ."

Because I knew Carlos was the best thing to happen to me since before the world ended.

Three months. I'd learned about Alice three months ago - that same amount of time I'd known Carlos before I'd learned about her. I'd given him countless opportunities to talk about it. Led the conversation in that direction hundreds of times. He never spoke about her. Which led to three conclusions:

1) He hates her.

2) He loves her.

3) All of the above.

"Focus, Victoria," Carlos ordered, wrenching me from my reverie. I fixed my gaze on the makeshift target ring he had pinned to the wall, balancing the knife in one hand. Carlos had insisted on trying to teach me the skill of dead aim - but he himself had admitted it was one very few ever mastered. He of course, being one of the very few.

I took a deep breath, holding the knife so that my thumb and forefinger were parallel, as Carlos had instructed. This was supposed to help level the knife when thrown, ensuring it would enter the target in the desired angle, and not smack them with the hilt. Which I'd done enough times to feel sufficiently stupid. I drew my hand back, keeping the line of sight with the target, and threw with the exact amount of power he had demonstrated, to ensure the force did not offset the balance, but was strong enough to a) cover the distance and b) cause enough damage. A loud 'thunk' resounded when the knife struck the target, two inches to the left of where I was supposed to hit.

"You're getting better," Carlos ensured me, wrenching the knife from where it was embedded in the wall. "You got balance and strength right, you're just a little off target."

I sighed, sinking to the floor. "It's no use."

"You're only two inches off," he reminded me, desperate to reverse my defeatist behaviour.

"Yeah, but two inches is enough to miss the forhead completely. Plus, I take ages to aim. It's impratical, Carlos. I'm never going to get it - particularly as you never take time to aim, you can just grab and throw."

"But I'm a natural," he grinned, offering me a hand up. I ignored it, pulling myself to my feet. I folded my arms across my chest when he offered me the knife again. "We'll try again tomorrow," he conceded with a small smile. He slid the knife back into one of its numerous sheets.

"We're supposed to be watching the perimeter, anyway," I pointed out. Funny, since Carlos always took protecting the convoy so seriously.

"We are watching the perimeter," he threw back, with the charming smile plastered all over his face as he gestured to the surveillance equipment by our side. I turned to look at the screen, cocking my head slightly as I looked at the different readings.

"Carlos," I started seriously. He immediately stopped smiling, rushing over to peer over my shoulder at the screen. "What is that?" I asked, indicating at the image from one of the cameras.

He stared at it for a moment, before cursing softly under his breath. "Movement, maybe a hundred yards out. I can't make out what it is in this darkness." He reached for his radio, ready to contact Claire when I interrupted him.

"Carlos, that's a truck!" I blurted out when I realised what we were looking at. Even as I said it, the truck came closer into view, faces barely distinguishable behind the glass. "There's people. Human people. Survivors."

Carlos immediately broke in with the static from his radio. "Claire, it looks like we've got survivors approaching the convoy. Victoria and I are going out to meet them, copy?"

"Copy that, old man. I'll send Jared and Chase over to help."

Without another word, Carlos ripped open the truck door, stepping out into the desert night darkness, with me close on his heels. His han hovered above his gun as he waited, silent, for the vehicle to approach. watched with bated breath as the trucked slowed to a halt in front of us, one of the people inside shining a torch light on us before opening their own doors and stepping out of the army truck to come closer to Carlos and I.

I felt Carlos stiffen beside me as the pair's faces came into view - a man and a woman; the man dressed in military garb who looked distinguishably foreign, and the woman having short, straight brown hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders. A smile broke out across the woman's face, and I turned to Carlos as he began to speak.

"I don't believe it." His posture relaxed, his hand drifting away from his gun. "Jill? Nicholai?"

A/N: Did you guys like that? Sorry if it was a little boring... I did my best! And I really should be studying for exams, so I hope you guys realise just how damn lucky you are!

So, the title credit for this chapter goes to Evanescence - Together Again. Pretty cool lyric there, huh? I'll leave it to you to figure out how it ties in with the chapter. Same idea with the quote. Do you guys enjoy them, or should I can them?

Once again, I've done all the hard work, so the least you guys can do is REVIEW.