A/N: Wow, two posts in a night!

So, here's another story that I haven't updated in a while. Because I am on a ROLL right now. *Starts dancing like FFnet is a 70's disco*

So, a few little notes on this story. THE END WILL HAVE YOU BEING LIKE 'WHOAMAHGAWD!' Maybe. It's the most dramatic thing I've written in a while, though it's not like any soap opera that my grandmother watches. And the Never Have I Ever scene was inspired by a similar scene in The Sharpest Lives by the lovely and talented Inu-Chan the music friend (you go, Inu!). Go read her story, too, it's good and it features amazing people.

Also, so I can rant, Moonray and I went mall-loitering yesterday! Whoo! And I got a dress that was on sale for really effing cheap! And it makes me look like a dark Cinderella, so yay for Brother's Grimm! If Cinderella was theirs. And purple eyeliner! Okay, my squealing is done.

Stay sexy!

~Sunshine

"Why did we get sent on this, of all people?" The Paintball Sensei tucks her knees into her chest. "Two kids who've hardly been here a few weeks. What the fuck?" She sighs. "I miss my baby. I miss her."

The green-haired boy in the driver's seat of the age-old van nods, reaching his arm across the console to curl around her arm. "I do, too."

It's silence for a few lone seconds.

"Why did you lie?"

She bites her lip. "What are you talking about?"

"You couldn't have just said Eden was ours right when we met everyone at the Diner?"

"Holy fuck, you sound just like Siren right now." They both tense at the name of the missing member of their group. "She yelled at me the night we got here for it. Are you two, like, having a mind meld or something? Because that would really help in finding her."

"Christ, Akira, are you serious? Mind meld? With Siren? We try and kill each other on a weekly basis."

"Or kill Dracs together, when you two can actually vent your energies." She smiles despite herself. "I miss her too."

The silence is a lot more comfortable now.

Until, of course, it's shattered by the kicking sand parting, almost fantastically, to reveal a group of people.

There are a few kids, mostly adults, though. Four of them don dirtied, torn, long since worthless BL/ind civilian suits, the rest in stereotypical Killjoy gear. All of their clothes are charred black in areas. The two that limp and lean on everyone else in the walking caravan have the most burns. One of the more injured ones, the girl, hops on one foot.

"OH, MY GOD, NEON, PULL OVER RIGHT NOW!"

He doesn't need the minuscule, purple-clad girl next to him to work on instinct; he pulls the brightly colored van off this Some-Route to stop in front of the group, who have noticed said wheeled vehicle.

Sensei leans back to open the vans' door, and yells, "Geddin, all of you!"

It's dark when we reach Zone 4.

I organize a pile of dead brush when we stop, parking the car half on the road, half off. As the pile becomes a loose, dry pinnacle my height, I stretch my palm out towards it, and let a steady, white stream of fire strike the pile.

I really do enjoy watching how the flames lick up and down the brittle sticks.

Mad Gear stares intently at my hand for a few moments, how I guide it through the air to control the fire. After a few seconds, she turns to Gunshot Melody, and asks, "So where're you from?"

She knows what the little girl is asking, but she shrugs anyways. "Zone 12. Far out."

"Yeah, but where are you from?"

"Nowhere."

"...Damn, are you really this closeted about your past? 'Cause-"

"Oh, my God, shut up, you little shit. I don't wanna talk about it."

Mad Gear backs up, holding her hands out in surrender. "Okay, fine, jeez."

It's silence for a minute before the minuscule girl turns to me. "What about you?"

I shrug. "Whaddya wanna know?"

"Um... Where are you from?"

"Droughthaven. Well... Colorado."

"...Colorado?"

"You don't know where that is?" I pause. "Or, rather, was."

"No." Mad Gear shrugs. "I'm told nothing about what happened before the Fires. All I know was that the world was better before BL/ind took over." She smiles sadly. "It's not true, is it?"

I shrug. "That's debatable. As an individual, yes, my life was better before the Fires, but as a world in the whole?" I laugh bitterly. "Either way, the whole planet's always been screwed. We've always been trying to kill each other. So, my answer is yes, but no. Did that make any sense?"

She frowns. "Actually... Yeah."

"I'm sorry I'm leading this conversation on a major tangent."

"Oh, no. It's not a problem. But... Like... Who did you travel with? Who were your friends? What was your favorite food?"

"Do you want me to answer those same questions, or something of the like?"

"Um... Similar, I guess."

I smile sadly. I can feel my expression dripping nostalgia. "Um... Where do I start? I... My favorite place to hang out was this playground that was next to some middle school, if you're curious. I... I used to go lay out in the front yard, just before a storm, in the summer, and I'd wait for the first drops to hit, just so I could feel it on my skin, before going inside. It always... It always made me feel clean."

Mad Gear's eyes widen. "Wow."

I blush a little. Another bout of silence rocks the camp.

"What about you?" I ask.

Mad Gear's hazel-green-gold eyes narrow. "Huh?"

"You were saying that Korse was like a father to you?"

"Oh! Yeah." Mad Gear clears her throat. "I don't remember my parents, but Airi told me that they were killed during the Fires. I was three when I was taken in by BL/ind. I don't even know why they wanted me then, my powers had hardly developed then." She clears her throat. "I was raised by the company with Gracie. We found our powers, together. I could see the present, she the future. Later, it became mind control for me, and seeing split-second decisions for her. Korse, though, was the only person with authority who would treat us, instead of property, as young girls. He treated us as his little girls. He told us stories, and morals, and lessons."

She pauses.

"And?"

Her voice is down to a whisper. "In the dark, he'd hold us both close and say, too light for the microphones to catch, to not listen to Airi. To only trust ourselves with our lives. To know when they're watching closely. And... He... He... He told us to get out when we could."

I can hear her tears.

"Gracie left when we were eight. I'm getting out now, and... I don't know if that's too late or not. Because I don't know if we can be able to get any resistance against them. Because too many people didn't get out." She chokes on her breath. "Too many people couldn't get out in time."

We're in Zone 5 by nightfall the next night. Cherri's playing some Jack Johnson on this Zone's radio. I park the car on the side of the Route, and we all sit in the car.

"What now?" Mad Gear asks.

I shrug. "Pass the time?"

Gunshot gasps, suddenly. "Let's play Never Have I Ever!"

"Oh, God," I mutter.

"What's that?" Mad Gear asks, instead.

Gunshot sighs, a little exasperated, but grins, anyway. "How you play is everyone goes around in a circle, saying something you've never done. If you have done it, then you put a finger up on one of your hands. When all your fingers have been raised... I don't know. I don't remember what happens. But it's fun!"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I shrug with Mad Gear, but we put two fists out in front of us anyways.

"Alright, I'll start," Gunshot says. "Never have I ever... Killed thirty Dracs on my own, in less than half an hour."

I stick my thumb out. "Lightning, bitches."

Mad Gear hides a gasp; Gunshot gives me a dirty look.

"I'll go!" Mad Gear says. "Um... Never have I ever... Been to Zone 12."

Gunshot releases an index finger from her fist. "From there."

"Alright," I say, "Never have I ever..." I look at the little girl in the back seat, smiling as I jut my chin at her. "Been inside BLI's headquarters." She frowns, crinkling her nose as she sticks a finger out. "Hey, that was funny."

Gunshot cuts in. "Alright. Never have I ever requested a DJ to play Justin Bieber."

We all grimace. "Sorry," I say.

"Never have I ever... Um..." The hazel-eyed girl grins. "Kicked a Drac in the balls."

My jaw drops, despite myself raising another finger. "Where did you learn to say that?"

She shrugs. "I would listen to Killjoy prisoners. They're really funny. They're also the bravest people I've ever known to exist. They're unbreakable."

Gunshot and I smile. "Got that right," she whispers.

"Alright, my turn." I clear my throat. "Never have I ever, um, tried tap dancing."

Gunshot bashfully raises a finger; Mad Gear and I start laughing maniacally.

"Shut up," she says, "I was alone in a warehouse, and I was bored, and that's the kind of thing that happens, alright? God. Never have I ever tried doing the worm."

"Oh, shit," I mutter, putting a finger up.

"Haha."

Mad Gear laughs at both of us. "Never have I ever sung in public."

I raise my finger. "I was well known around Droughthaven." The blonde girl laughs. "Never have I ever attempted to... Try on lingerie." As Mad Gear oohs, Gunshot, while raising a finger, blushes a little. "No way!"

"I tried it on once!" She yells. "It was a pair of panties and a push-up. And it wasn't to make me feel, I dunno, sexy."

"Then why did you wear it?"

She shrugs. "It made me feel like I was going to kick someone's ass. Like I could fucking ghost them. Really, there's some kind of attitude change when your wearing something you usually wouldn't."

I nod, thoughtfully, no longer thinking about the suggestive thought I was trying to instigate. "I guess that makes sense." I share a smile with her. "Your turn."

She smirks, a little nervously, and says, "Never have I ever lost my virginity."

Mad Gear stares, timidly, at Gunshot Melody. I timidly raise my finger, trying to not get caught, but both of them notice it, jump up, and yell in unison, "NO WAY!"

I blush, almost suffocated by it. "Don't judge me. There were people going to what might have been Texas, and they were staying at our warehouse, and they had booze, and..." I cough. "I'm just glad I didn't get pregnant from the experience. Please, Mad Gear, say another thing, take the attention away from me."

"Alright, fine. Never have I ever tried to use large explosives, like, I dunno, grenades, to kill Dracs."

The fourteen-year-old slides another finger out of her fist. "They don't call me Gunshot Melody for nothing."

I laugh a little. "Never have I ever... Played Truth or Dare with a DJ." I see Gunshot raise another finger. "You've done nearly everything, haven't you?"

"No. Never have I ever played guitar." I groan, holding another finger up. "I'd love to learn, but-"

"I'll teach you," I say.

She gasps. "You will?"

"Sure, why not?"

Her dark eyes widen, her mouth begins to split into a grin. "...Wow."

I grin at her.

Mad Gear shifts a little in her seat. "Alright. Never have I ever... Had a sibling."

Gunshot lets loose another finger. "I haven't seen my brother in a few months, though. He's staying with a DJ."

They both notice my raised finger, my hung head.

"...Siren?"

"What?"

"You had a sibling?" I nod, but don't say anything. "Oh, God, did he-"

"Don't. Say. Anything."

Gunshot touches my forearm. "Cyanide, it's alright. You can tell us-"

I look up, feeling the warm, salty tears stain my skin. "Don't even say anything, alright? God, he didn't deserve it! He died trying to save me, my friends! My own twin!"

As their jaws drop, I climb out of the car, and run.

"Exterminators Daed and Korse, and Draculoid Units 24-C through 25-A report to the North Ward on the fourteenth floor of the C building, right now."

Korse knows what those quarters are, exactly. So he doesn't hesitate to run.

The room has no traces of Bandit, whatsoever. Her mattress has no evidence of her sleeping; the sheets are still made from yesterday. Clothes are all clean, washed, folded, hanged. Even the silver bauble earrings that sat on the vanity, which neither girl never wore, are gone.

Daed is in the middle of it all, pacing the room in utter frustration, as if her growls will make anything better. She wears a perfectly tailored, gray silk shirt, with white tie, black pants, and black boots. Her dyed white hair stands in subtle spikes against her skin.

"Korse! Where were you?" She demands.

"A building. I made it here as quickly as I could."

"Not quickly enough. She disappeared!"

"She didn't disappear, Daed, you just can't find her."

"Shut up. We have a problem. A problem that's ten years old, dark haired, and reckless. Tell me, Korse, do you know where the girl is?"

"I don't."

"Well, find out soon, because this can't reach the CEO. You got that?"

"Oh, of course, Daed."

"Fine. I'm going to check footage, see if I can see when that stupid little rat ran off. Stay here, find anything, alright?"

"As usual, Daed. Take the Dracs with you, they will not be of my assistance."

She nods, staring coldly. "Very well."

As the party leaves, Korse strides to the vanity, and picks out the paper he saw slid between the surface and the mirror.

Dear Korse,

I'm sorry this was so sudden, but so was Gracie leaving. But I had to, and you know why. I didn't know what else to do, they we're going to turn me into a test subject, just like my sister. Don't deny it, you know it, too.

I love you, Korse. You're like a father to me.

-Bee

Oh, thank God.

Shotgun Sinner kicks the dust. Daisy floats next to him.

"You know, you can attract attention like that," she says.

"So?"

"We're halfway there."

"Cool." He spots a softer-looking piece of earth. "Mind if I sleep?"

"Go ahead. I'll keep watch."

He stops at the earth, lays down, and settles, closing his eyes.

Immediately, he starts concentrating. Give me the healer. The protector.

He sees a variety of different images. Two kids, with chestnut hair and emerald eyes, running, hiding, leading a similarly featured child, growing up, shooting Dracs. He always makes shields. She always attacks from behind the barrier.

Then, he sees a van. The boy dies, saying something to the girl as blood flows freely from him.

When he opens his eyes, Daisy's gone. In her place is a boy.

He has dark, red-brown hair, falling in his eyes, combed through with touches of pure, royal blue. A pair of black Ray-Bans sit on his head. He wears a dark blue shirt, with a black bomber jacket on top, sleeves torn out to form the garment into a vest. He wears green denim pants, severely dirtied and scuffed, and black converse with the toes painted bright orange. A gun, painted blue with two stripes, green and orange, racing up the side, sits at his hip. He has brilliant green eyes set into his tanned face. He looks like he could be about sixteen.

"Who are you?"

He smirks a little. "Hydrogen Hellhound. Or Elliot. Whichever you prefer."

"Elliot. And... Are you the guy I always see dying?'

He nods. "Sorry, dude, you didn't have to see that. That was a terrible death."

"It's alright." Sinner sits up. "Who are you?

"The healer."

"But why do I always see that girl with you whenever I ask for the healer?"

Elliot sits down, and looks at the pale-eyed boy. "Sinner, there's a special thing with twins. We know each other. Like you wouldn't be able to understand. We figure each other out. We're always at each other's sides. We know what the other's going to do. Essentially, we share a common bond that, in a way, makes us one entity. Especially in the rare case of my sister and I. And that tie never really breaks, not until there's no ends to tie it to, when we both die. It can feel so weak that it's almost gone, but eventually, it mends. That's what happened with us. When I died, that tie nearly disappeared, but it didn't. And while my sister isn't feeling it yet, that tie is mending."

"If you're saying you're coming back from the dead, you are absolutely fucking crazy."

"I'm not. I'm saying that I'm letting a little part of myself become my sister, too. The part that you're looking for."

Shotgun Sinner looks at Elliot, confusion plastered onto his face. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that my sister, Sinner, is becoming what we both were, the ultimate fighter. My sister is becoming a warrior. My sister... Is becoming the healer. The protector."