That night, I walk around the base in the pouring rain. The cold of the drops help me feel absolutely numb. I can't be feeling like earlier. I shouldn't. Every day I spend with Bog, I learn more about him than he probably knows. I've counted every stubborn whisker on his chin that doesn't obey the razor blade. I've studied how expressive his eyes are. I've seen his long sleek raven hair in so many ways. I know what emotion he's feeling just by his posture. I know how he does his best to lower himself to be eye level with those he talks to. I know so much and he knows nothing in return. I like him and I'm only a stranger.

"Fae!" I almost forgot about them as I turn a corner. "We've been looking everywhere for you." I ignore Fang as he jogs up. I know Brutus is not far. "Fae." He tries to grab me from behind, but I duck in time to avoid his grip.

"Guys," I snap. "Could we just not do this today?"

They wouldn't understand what I meant. There's Fang's confused glare. "What are you talkin' about? Plum almost strung us up by our toes for losing track of you."

He goes in for a punch. I step to the left and take a few steps back. "Okay, Fang. Watch this." I place my clasp my hands behind my back. He smirks. "Now, I'm gonna close my eyes." I do so and wait. "Ready?"

I know Fang is still grinning at the tease of getting a free shot at me before he throws a left hook. I step right, placing myself in front of a wall. He charges for me. I step left, slapping his back just hard enough to push him against the wall. The sound of a body hits wet asphalt. I glance at Brutus who looks very startled and pale, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I... I didn't mind the extra push-ups."

I storm away from the two Goblins. Tomorrow is coming. I find the officer's area and my eyes land on something I haven't seen in a long time. Unbridled joy courses through my Mimic ridden blood.

The morning sun just peeks over the horizon, though the London clouds block most of the light. I don't care. I zoom around the near empty streets on the borrowed motorcycle. Everywhere I go, groups of survivors and refugees gather and wander. Military tents and vehicle litter the large expanses of sidewalks to aid the people. Never mind them, though. I spot a bar. With what change I found on the cycle, I got myself a drink. It won't be enough to mask the conflicted emotions I feel towards Bog and my swearing off love or the threat of the impending doom of this world should I fail. I'd need a lot more than a single drink. The owner has the radio on talking about the battle in France.

"-current situation on the front line. Our troops have suffered heavy casualties." Heh, if they think that's heavy, wait til just a bit later when it becomes obvious to the higher ranks the gravity of this.

"It's about time we showed those things what we're made of." An older British man grumbles to his friend. "My father flew in the Battle of Britain. Three years before the Yanks came into the war. Couldn't be broken. Backbone."

I take a heavy swig. Knowing what I know, they seem like wizened gentlemen, but with this scourge, they're idiots. I bite back my tongue.

"My Uncle George landed on the beach at Normandy," the guy's friend says. "In their day, this war would have been over by now."

In their day, the tech they had wouldn't stand as much of a chance as now, but even then, we're barely getting by.

The owner's heels clack across the ground, her hair tousled from probably a rushed morning. "What do they want with us, anyway?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Minerals." One of the British men answer.

"Minerals?" The friend asks incredulously.

"Yeah, minerals. Metals."

"Oxygen, they want." An older man pipes up from the other side of the bar counter.

"Oxygen?" The 'minerals' man asks.

"Think about it," the older man says.

I've had enough. "What different does it make?" The Brits fall silent. "They're here. They're winning. And whatever it is, they're gonna get it." All because I can't seem to get Bog's plan right.

"Shouldn't you be over there?" Another older man murmurs. Honestly, I'm slightly happy he's taking the idea of a female soldier so gracefully. My father is most likely turning in his grave knowing that I'm doing a "man's job."

"I've been over there." I quietly answer him, knowing he won't understand, but I say it anyway and continue. "More times than anybody. As a matter of fact, I'm usually long dead by now." I smile at my own macabre jest.

"Coward," I hear someone say.

I grimace. If only they knew the real truth and the hardships I've gone through, but they don't know. They haven't learned what Dawn has figured out. They haven't killed an Alpha like Bog or I have. I take a cleansing sigh when the lights in the bar starts sparking and hissing. The patrons wonder at what's happening. The power's gone. A low rumble vibrates the floor, shaking the bottles in the place. Another louder one follows close behind it. Sirens sound in the distance. This can't be good. I bolt out of my stool and throw open the door glancing up and down the trash covered edges of the streets. A car turns the corner with a short siren bleep as the rumbles get larger, louder accompanied by alarms going off all around and an explosion way behind me somewhere.

I run along the streets, listening to people screaming, cars zooming, sirens and alarms ringing. Smoke rises in the horizon. I stop at a bridge, looking at the city down the river. Disrupting the water's surface are countless amounts of Mimics. It's when I realize that they're not just attacking the soldiers, but the places we've left undefended as well. It's really is the end if I don't do something. All these civilians, as ignorant as they are, will perish. There's no escaping this.

All I see is a screeching Mimic.

I wake and suffer the usual morning chore of being called a deserter and escaping the squads clutches. I tell Bog what he needs to know to not throw me out and lets me meet with Dawn. As the time inches by, she gets excited as she slides her fingers across the center table's screen.

"I've found the Omega. I found it. It has to be here." Another swipe. "Curnera Dam, Germany. This has got to be it. It fits the description perfectly."

"You found it," I say monotonously. "Again." I sigh. "What difference does it make? Cause we're never gonna get there." I straighten myself up trying to ignore Dawn's fallen look and Bog's concerned eyes. "No matter what we do. No matter how carefully we plan," I lean over the center table, hands firmly planted on it, "we can't get off that beach."

I can't take their looks anymore. I let them know that I'm going to the floors.

I'm more like venting now. Round after round of fighting the machines, I notice the building go quiet. It must be getting late. Good. I scream as I attack now, yell when I land a hit, growl when I get hit. I'm a crazed banshee. Why can't I get better? I release a round on one mech until I see it come right at me. Scowling, I jump and throw all my weight into my fists, bringing the machine down to the floor and pelting it with punches, grunting with each blow. A double fisted hit to finish when I notice another coming my way, but I swat that away like a bothersome fly with Bog's sword that I borrowed. As it spins out of control, I unload bullets into it. Something sounds behind me. I pace away in movement similar to an ice skater as the second mech zooms to where I just was. I slide on the suit's feet, sparks flying until I stop and turn to shoot the machine down. It loses several claw blades. No longer much of a threat, I jump at it and stab the thing with Bog's sword. We slide across the floor until I crush it against the wall. Pay back's a bitch. A single punch and the machine sparks wildly.

My breaths come in heavily, my mind is used to this, but my body doesn't match. I see a figure at the control stations. Bog stands there in the shadows, looking at me like I'm dangerous. Not dangerous enough. I can't physically get better, stronger. I can't protect anyone. Not Dawn, not Bog, not even myself. How can I protect the world.

Snarling, I go back to hitting the machine around the sword, loving the flying sparks and metal thunks echoing with each hit. Bog's footsteps draw near. I pull out the sword and drive it high at the tall man with an unearthly growl. A metal clang echos in the entire building. His staff holds the sword inches from his face, his arms held above him as are mine, our bodies leaning towards each other. He looks around the floor littered with pieces of my metallic victims.

"Tough girl, ye can do this. Ye can." He somehow knew my fears just by what I said earlier. "Ye keep coming here every day and Ah'll train ye."

We're so close, we could kiss. Grunting, I remove the sword from his staff, staring at those blue windows and black strands. I shake my head gently with a smirk. "You already have."

A quick inhale and I arc the sword at the final machine trying to sneak attack us.

}{

I soar through the air, crushing an alien until the inner fire dies and it curls up like a dead spider. Behind me, I hear Bog spinning in the air, the suit making his jumps ten times more powerful like mine. A clang of his staff and it snaps off several tendrils of another alien. Several more clangs at yet another Mimic, I turn to share a look with Bog. I run towards where he was while he flies, flipping around, and striking the head off an unearthing alien. I, on the other hand, storm along the sand. A Mimic shoots several fire balls at me, but with the momentum of my walking, I fall and slide until the danger passes where I stand up and shoot the thing dead with over the shoulder weapons. It blows up like a firecracker.

I hear voices I recognize.

"I'm waiting, Stuff."

"Five hundred meters and closing fast!"

I run to the ditch where the Goblin Squad sits, shooting at the Mimic hiding beneath their feet, running around them with ease unlike my first day. The Mimic, now revealed, tries to take some of the soldiers with it, but I keep shooting.

Stuff screams out. "What the-."

Plum is panicking as sand flies everywhere.

I've gotten the alien's attention away from them as I run away from the ditch. It explodes through the sandy mound to follow me, but Bog lands just behind it. A quick strike of his staff to it's head and it's down while I shoot other Mimics. Before my suit has a chance to say "Reload," I've already got the new magazine in and slide down a mound to punch a rolling alien. Bog appears next to me, attacking one that was in my blind side. The alien I'm still with pulls us through sand where I'm still punching until Bog comes in a throws a solid blow. We take a collective breath, huffing and puffing as we lean on our knees.

"What's next," Bog gasps, using his staff to keep him upright.

I pull the sword out from Bog's sheathe on his back and stab the writhing alien. Bog's punch knocked it out, but didn't kill it. Well... now it's dead.

"Straight shot up the hill," I finally answer.

Bog nods giving me the okay to continue on. I can't help but smirk as I hear the squad converse amongst themselves.

"Hey, Sarge, the new gal," Thang starts. "What's her name again?"

Call me a deserter now, I think with a heavy smirk.

}{

We sit next to a rotting deck on a grassy hill overlooking a small trailer park cemetery. A desolate playground and whirligig ride lay abandoned. Last night's rain traveled to here where the ground is too soft and sticky. Small fires burn here and there due to stray fire balls or grenades. Smoke columns billow in the morning sky all around us.

"We'll need a vehicle to get further inland." I say after finally getting a quiet moment.

"What's the problem?" Bog asks.

"The problem," I inhale, "is the ambush waiting for us down there. They kill us before we find a working car."

Bog's anxious. "Okay. So, what's the current plan?"

"Two cars we haven't tried yet. The minivan and the green SUV." Bog acknowledges the both of them. "I'll head for the SUV, draw the Mimics to me. You for the minivan. You get it started, just go, take off. Do not wait for me." Bog moves to get going. I stop him by grabbing his hand and pulling him down. "Whoa, just don't forget to disconnect the caravan before you take off. You are going to be in a hurry, you don't want any dead weight."

Bog understands, but rolls his eyes and cracks his neck, clearly annoyed with hearing orders. With a nod of my head, we both head down the hill and head straight for the vehicles. His suit's running thumps overpower mine, but I drag the sword across scraps and push a car out of my way, glass shattering and metal groaning. I get to the SUV, punch the window in, and pull off the door. I lean in to find a backpack, unable to get to the zipper, I just rip the thing open unleashing all it's contents on the muddy ground, grabbing a few small items. Not far, I can hear Bog starting the minivan, but following the turned over vehicle comes the faints screeches of the aliens. A low rumble very similar to what happened while I was in London rolls through the thick air. As a cell tower falls in the distance, Bog honks the horn to get my attention. I run to where he'll be coming up.

He kicks off the passenger door. "Come on, Fae!"

I hop in, looking back at the SUV and beyond. The radio drones as I try to look behind us as Bog drives off. I complain about not seeing just as he swerves around the tight corners, throwing me around in my seat. I almost start complaining even more then, but I stop and continue glancing back. The radio continues talking. I watch the trailer get hit with RV's and decks while Bog maneuvers us out of the car park and unto the main road.

"The enemy has reached London. Repeat: London is under attack."

I punch the radio in. I already know what's happening there. Bog doesn't. He silently judges my action.

"Good driving," I murmur.

He turns his attention back on the road. "Ah forgot to unhook the trailer."

Just then, a Mimic explodes out of the road and through the trailer. It's tendrils stabbing though the glass in order to reach us. I unleash a round. Bog just sits there and drives as if none of this bothers him. The alien grabs the back end of the van and sends out a couple tendrils through the front windshield. Bog lets out a grunt. Time to get rid of this. My thumb hits a button to engage my over-the-shoulder weapons which rips the top of the van off as I stand in my seat. I shoot at the Mimic with my arms guns and aim the shoulder weapons at the second one just appearing. That one implodes, burning the rest of the trailer to pieces.

The menaces dealt with, I disengage the shoulder weapons and lower my arms on the top of the van, laying a bit on it as Bog swerves the van to unhook the remains of the trailer and aliens. Eventually, I sit back down and rest while Bog drives down the destitute highway.

After a few miles of silence, I decide to start a conversation.

"You don't talk much." I point out, looking out at the passing lands.

Bog sharply inhales. "Not a fan."

"Of talking?"

"Not a fan of talking, no."

I glance at him. "You know you eventually do talk to me. It's usually around Lyons. You tell me about the time you went there with your family. You got lost."

Bog cracks his neck. "Ah've never been to Lyons."

I still push. "You tell me your real name." I pause to make him slightly squirm. "Boggart."

He laughs. "That's not ma name."

We both smile. It looks good on him.

"Your parents find you in the arcade, by the way."

He scoffs. "Maybe Ah made it all up just ta keep ye quiet."

"But you do talk to me."

A heavy sigh. "Fae, Ah do not need ta get ta know ye. And if ye knew what was good for ye, ye wouldn't want ta get ta know me either. It's the only way ye make it through this thing."

I know I shouldn't but in for a penny, in for a pound. "What about Angela? You get to know her?"

I watch his reaction. His face goes neutral, then slightly tenses back up as he turns his head.

"How do ye know that name?"

"You mentioned her," I answer.

He snaps it back to the road. "That's not possible."

"Then how do I know her name?" I murmur.

"When did Ah mention her? Under what circumstance?"

I don't answer right away, but he's waiting. "Is she why you won't talk to me?"

Bog sits there for a moment, not saying a word. With a roll of his shoulders, his face sets into a mask. "Don't ever mention her name again."

"Why? Are you in love with her?"

"She's dead."

I never learn. Painful memories cut across his features.

"And watched her cheat on me and later die three hundred times and Ah remember every detail." His beautiful voice cracks along with my heart. "Ah remember everything. So Ah don't need ta talk about it."

I feel bad now, but at least I know more about him which will only fuel my desire to keep him alive.

"I'm sorry," I nearly whisper.

Bog clicks his tongue. "It's just war."

A soft beeping alarms us about low fuel.