Chapter 10

A/N: Hey! Seeeee! What did I tell you? Did anyone place bets on my return? Because if so, pay up, my friend. Pay up. Anyways, I had a dream about Hal last night so...(yeah, you are jealous) I figured I should start this.

Episode 6 of Season 3 was by far the best episode of Falling Skies. Personally. Maybe it's just because I like looking at Hal...I don't know...

Anyways: A forewarning. I'm starting college VERY soon. So depending on my work load, my updates could be few and far between. But if you nag me, I'll probably give in(ehem, makaylaloveswaffles). So...onwards!

With disbelief, Hal stared down into the neat pile of clothing on his lap. His clothes and not some loose and flimsy infirmary sweats washed too many times in heavy disinfectant. His mouth parted as he looked up to see Anne Glass standing in front of him with a mild smirk and arms crossed.

Hal was afraid to ask, but he couldn't contain the surging flutter of hope, "I can leave?"

"I don't see why not," she replied flatly, "I can't force you to tell me what you hallucinated-" Hal inwardly cringed at the word, "And since I don't know, and it doesn't seem like you'll be telling me, I can't really have a reason for keeping you, right?"

Hal nodded tersely, before pulling the grey shirt over his head and tossed it half-heartedly towards the large trash can that substituted for a laundry basket.

Anne pursed her lips before frowning slightly, "But I mean it, Hal. If anything like that happens again, you let me know, okay?"

"Yeah," Hal muttered as he pulled on a shirt. Slipping into his jeans after he removed the sweat pants once Anne had taken the hint, she turned away. "Thanks, Anne," he said quietly, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his jacket.

The doctor returned his gaze causing his own to waver to his shoeless feet. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Anne-that part felt guilty. She was only trying to help him with...whatever twisted his mentality after the kiss with Karen. And Hal was smart enough to know that something was wrong with him. He was terrified of his father. And that wasn't right. He was enraged with his father. And that wasn't right either. In fact, just thinking about Tom Mason sent chills racing down his spine and blood boiling up. It was disconcerting, to say the least. But that was one part. Every other part of him sternly prohibited any mention of this to anyone because...well, he wasn't exactly sure why; it just wasn't their business.

Anne handed him his boots, and Hal smiled gratefully, pulling them close to his chest.

"Take care of yourself," Anne advised to the near point of begging. Had Hal really freaked her out that much? He bit his lip hard, pushing the memories away. He had lost control, and he was determined to never let that happen again.

"I will," Hal promised and left the infirmary without even bothering to shove on his boots.

He found himself outside of the bunker, sitting at the trunk of a dead tree. Everything looked incredibly bleak. It was difficult to think this was once the warm and fertile South, where flowers were nearly always in bloom, and plants and trees nearly always a crisp green. Charleston looked like a war zone. Which is exactly what it was. Hal pressed his head into the rough bark, grimacing against the dry cold. He spotted only a few citizens and a couple of soldiers roaming the grounds-most still uneasy about surfacing into the real world. Hal shook his head, disgusted with the delusion of sanctuary Charleston had conjured. Sure, they had a nice place to stay, but that always changed once the aliens found them. They always found them.

Charcoaled and collapsed buildings lined the torn up street. Some of them looked reparable, but the majority were a loss cause. Hal puffed out a sigh. There was so much work to do. Where to begin? He didn't know if there was even a point to start.

He sucked in a breath, digging his heels into the gravel. His head continued to buzz with thoughts he could not cling to, and he felt at a lost. What was happening to him? And why was he feeling so utterly indifferent about their situation? Surely, it wasn't that hopeless. Surely, something could be done.

"Hal! Hey, Hal!" He was stolen from his quiet contemplation as a young woman sat down beside him. Hal tensed, feeling exposed, and he glanced to his side to get a better look at her.

"Maggie..." he trailed, and she smiled at him; blonde hair flittering in the weak breeze.

"When did you get vertical?" she nudged him teasingly.

Hal swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably, "This morning...I think."

"What? You think?" Maggie grinned at him, her tongue pressing into the back of her front teeth. "Well, it's good to have you back, Hal."

"Yeah, feels good," he barely mustered a smile. But why was she talking to him? Didn't she have something more important to do? Hal was starting to grow suspicious of her motives.

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well..." she bit her lip, looking to her knees, "You scared me, you scared all of us when you were out cold after that bitch kissed-"

"Don't call her that," Hal retorted heatedly, immediately flushing because of his impulsive, nonsensical reaction.

Maggie recoiled, leaning back to get a better view of her scout partner's face, "Why are you defending her?" she asked incredulously.

Hal's mind floundered on what to say, for in truth, he wasn't completely sure why he was defending her either. "It's...it's just that...she's not Karen. Not anymore. It's not her fault." He turned straight ahead, eyes focusing on a citizen struggling with a cart of supplies.

"I know," Maggie replied sympathetically, her voice quiet. "I...I remember her too, you know. Before she...got taken." Hal's stomach twisted at the haunting memory, "I know it's not her fault. But there's nothing anyone can do for her now."

Hal's jaw knotted at her words. Not like she cared. Hal could see it in the girl's eyes. She was perfectly content Karen was gone. Perfectly satisfied if Hal would just forget Karen, think of her as a 'bitch', and choose not to remember that this was all of his fault.

They remained in tense silence, listening to the upheaval of gravel from boots and scraps of metal from stranded buildings. Maggie stared at the back of Hal's head confusedly, because why was he feeling guilty now? Why was he still thinking of Karen as Karen after everything that happened? All of it, had been months ago. Karen was dead as far as she was concerned, but the sadistic whore of an alien host was very much alive. Maggie frowned, troubled. Maybe it was the coma. Maybe it had pushed forward those much-since-buried-memories and brought them to the forefront of his mind. Anne had briefly mentioned in between their busy shifts that he was experiencing nightmares. Maggie didn't think much of it-she had more than her fair share of them-but to find Hal sitting alone on the deserted surface, sulking...well, Maggie began to wonder how bad his nightmares really were.

"Hey," she said, breaking the silence once and for all. It had disturbed her greatly. She was use to the silence between them, on scout missions and surprise attacks against the aliens, but nothing like what she just experienced. This silence was foreign and uncomfortable, feeling the void between them, and was he actually miles away? "Do you know when you'll get off your lazy ass and back to work?"

Hal shrugged, "I don't know. Hopefully soon though."

"Yeah," Maggie agreed warily, "We definitely need you now since we blew up the fish heads' weapon. I'm sure they'll be trying to stick it to us in every possible way."

"I bet," Hal responded evenly. "Anything been happening while I was out?"

Maggie nods, "A lot more Mech patrols. But we aren't sure if they know our exact location or not. Everyone's on edge about it. Because we sure as hell don't have the kind of artillery to take down an entire Mech army. But so far, they don't seem to be noticing us. And so far, we're definitely fine with keeping it that way."

"A stalemate," Hal concluded with a mirthless grin, pulling his knees up from their previously flat position.

"Exactly," Maggie agreed grimly, because stalemate's were always impossibly frustrating. And terrifying. Wondering when the enemy decides to make their next move and what that is and if they'll be able to defend themselves from it-the severity of the situation really hits to the bone.

"The generals coming up with any fool-proof plans to end it?" Hal asked casually, propping his body up with a study elbow.

Maggie visibly flinched at the phrase, 'fool-proof.' Because it always seemed whatever plan they had was tied to some unforeseeable collateral damage, didn't it? She couldn't help but think of Dai on their last mission. But also Hal, because what exactly happened to him? People don't usually go into a coma after being kissed, even if it was by that slut.

"Uh, they're working on a few ideas," Maggie cleared her throat of the forming lump of dread, guilt and worry, "But mostly they're trying to figure out whether the new alien is..."

"Wanting to kill us?" Hal suggested with a slight smirk, his eyes glinting darkly.

Maggie nodded curtly, tightening the leather jacket around her. It was getting much colder all of the sudden. And the murky gray overcast of clouds certainly wasn't helping the already eerie demeanor of the abandoned town. "Why are you out here anyway?"

Hal shrugged again and it was really starting to piss Maggie off. "I just needed some time to think."

"Think about what?" Maggie demanded, feeling her face flare hot against the cold air.

Hal shook his head, rolling his eyes, "Things."

"What things, Hal?" Maggie hissed through her gritted teeth because why was he acting like this? She was Maggie! His Maggie. And he was treating her like they weren't even friends. "Hal-" Maggie sighed, tossing her thick, wavy locks over her shoulder, "Is there something you-"

The ground shook violently, jerking Maggie to the sideways. Frail roofs collapsed inwardly, woods and metal screeching from the shifting vibrations of the Earth. Lone citizens in the street cried out in alarm, covering their heads from bits of falling debris. Hal's breath caught in his throat when he fell on his side. Coughing from the the raging wave of dust, Hal pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet.

"What the hell was that?!" Maggie screeched, shakily getting up once she was sure the quivering of the ground had stopped.

"I don't know," Hal responded gruffly, scanning his surroundings carefully. Because an Earthquake in Charleston? Even with aliens invading the Earth, that was still a rarity.

People started yelling, soldiers pooling out of the tunnels from the underground fortress and to the edge of the city. Hal's eyes widened when he soon saw his father and Weaver running from behind, guns pressed tightly to their chests.

"It's the Mechs!" Hal heard someone cry faintly from far ahead.

Dread seized his gut. Maggie and him exchanged concerned glances before moving off in a sprint, following the cluster of frazzled soldiers and avoiding the on-rush of a few groups of panicky citizens.

He could see the upper bodies of the mechs as the street widened. There were at least a dozen, maybe twice as many depending on the way they were positioned the hilly terrain. The color fled from Hal's face as his stomach lurched. He hadn't eaten in how long, and he was beginning to feel the toll of the lack of nourishment.

He stumbled forward, tripping over a chunk of concrete, barely managing to catch himself with an outstretched hand.

"Hal!" Maggie exclaimed, gripping his arm tightly and pulling him upright. Hal wheezed, trying to find his breath and some stability between his ground and feet.

"Hal, are you all-Oh my God," Maggie breathed, "Shit."

"What?" Hal gasped, finally forcing himself to look away from the ground and forwards.

What he saw made his heart stutter, made him choke on his breath, made him tremble with a clammy sweat.

For Hal Mason was staring into the pale face of Karen, surrounded by the towering forms of Mechs.

He saw his father, Tom Mason, take a step forward, making him visible from the crowd of wary soldiers. Karen waved her cloth of white into the air before letting it flutter to the ground.

"What do you want, Karen?" his father's voice bellowed.

"Hello, Tom," Karen's bell-like voice rang in the thick air, "I'm here to collect my investment."

In that moment, Hal had found it so strange, how Karen Nadler, in the midst of the crowd, had so easily locked eyes with him.

To be continued! :) Tell me whatcha think, my lovelies!

Thanks for stopping by!