Colvin stood on the smoldering pile of concrete. Flames crackled around him, casting shadows on the remaining foundation of the building. Bullet ridden bodies strewed the ground in a path leading from him to the remainder of his squad. In the frigid wind, he still found himself sweating profusely under his armor. Newly created pot marks in his armor were jagged and shimmered brightly in the firelight.

"What the hell happened?" Knight Captain Dusk snapped.

Colvin shook his head, perplexed by the ambush that had been sprung on them. It had been a long time since they were caught off guard in such a fashion that ended in casualties. Dusk shifted slightly as another in the group led one of the wounded for her to help. The new recruit's leg was lifted up off the ground. A sense of shock and fear hit the group.

The area had been deemed cleared by other troops thus far.

"I don't know," Colvin uttered, lost in thought.

"Well, Lyons is going to lose her shit when she finds out that the status of this thoroughfare has changed," Paladin Glade growled.

Colvin nodded, looking in the direction towards the Citadel. From where they were, with the injured initiate and their dead, it would take hours to get back. He felt defeated by the attack. He looked around to see if they could lay low for the evening to get the young man stabilized; maybe send someone for a medic to transport him back for proper help.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder; an overwhelming sense of dread sank into him as he ordered the group to retrace their steps to a small burned out area that he knew for a fact was clear. The group groaned in sync and began to bicker about what had caused the super mutants to get so uppity recently. It could have been anything, by all accounts, they had little to go on as to the motives of the heathens, but that didn't make the brazen attack any easier to accept.

Dusk and the recruit stayed to the center of the group, while Colvin took the rear. As they reached the small summit in the road, they saw the large double doors of a blasted out office building hanging ajar. It was defensible enough for the night; they'd work in shifts if need be.

"You know, you're an asshole, Colvin," Dusk remarked with a glance over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Dusk," he replied, as if unmoved by the unprovoked quip. "That's great."

"You're not even listening, are you?" she growled with a stop. The party parted as she spun around nearly taking the recruit to the ground. Colvin stood his ground at her attack. The snipers stared at each other in silence. Dusk planted her finger into his chest and pushed. "This shit is on you! Ever since that stupid child came by GNR you've been out of your motherfucking mind. You aren't fit to lead a group no matter how much bravado you spew!"

Colvin looked at her finger drilling into his chest plate and to the group. Yes, he had been distracted; he could admit that. It had been three weeks since he'd seen Quinn. The only thing he'd been hanging on were the news reports that Three Dog would dole out like morsels of hope to him.

"This isn't entirely my fault," he responded in frustration. "You are just as accountable for this CF as I am."

"Bullshit," Dusk hissed.

"No, it's not, and you know it," he argued back. "You've been riding me since I got back to the Citadel. Hell, the entirety of Lyons' Pride has been gossiping like a damn knitting circle about things they have no idea about." His eyes shot up to Glade who was pushing open the battered door and back to Dusk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

Dusk staggered back as if the words had knocked the wind out of her.

"What the fuck?" she uttered.

"You heard me," he snapped back.

"Run," the sniper whispered. She looked around him and quickly stepped further away.

Colvin turned with just enough time to see a very large, very angry Super Mutant bearing down on him. He shoved Dusk for the door and was rewarded with a hard hit to the gut that sent him flying against a concrete wall. Pieces of it began to splinter and crack, smashing him in the head. His head swiveled to and fro. He could barely get his bearings when a large foot stopped right in front of him. He lifted his gaze to the monster as it reeled back a large hammer.

Hail Mary, full of grace…

He closed his eyes and waited for the killing blow. He thought about Quinn, where she was, what she was doing, what he wanted to say and couldn't. He hated himself for it: the fear.

Our Lord is with Thee…

Through the heavy breathing and gnashing of teeth, gunshots echoed through the street. The crack of a high caliber weapon sent familiar shivers down his spine. He heard a loud thud hit the broken sidewalk. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the hammer on the ground a mere inches from his legs. He looked up at the Super Mutant in front of him and saw that its attention had turned from him to up the street. He strained to see who was firing but couldn't get a bead on them through the sweat and blood trickling into his eyes.

"I'll kill you human!" it bellowed loudly before barreling down the road in the direction of the firefight.

A second shot hit the large mass sending a spray of blood into the air. It only infuriated the mutant more. Colvin took the advantage to attempt an escape but when he pushed up on his hands to center himself, he found himself increasingly dizzy. He was nauseas, wanted to sleep. The whole event just felt like a hallucination to him. The way the moon hit the mist of red bursting into the night air was like taking a psychotropic. He slid down the wall again and let out a loud growl.

The yelling continued for several more moments and then the deathly silence returned. No gunfire, no screams, nothing. Colvin felt himself panting from the adrenaline and pain. He wanted to get up, he needed to. There was no way around it, unless he wanted to make himself a target for another attack. The quick crunching of gravel underfoot drew closer; followed by a second set in close succession.

"Are you alright?" a woman's voice asked, nearly out of breath. "Dad, he's hurt."

"Help me get him up," the second person replied.

Colvin felt hands around his arms and his weight being lifted so he could stand. The pair of Samaritans grunted as they placed him on their shoulders. He knew the Power Armor was unforgiving, but he wasn't and he asked – more to himself than outwardly – for it.

"Bring him in here," Glade called.

The three of them shuffled across the road slowly and he heard heavy doors close and latch behind him. A small lantern lit the room in an incandescent yellow. He heard moaning and Dusk reassuring the recruit that he'd nearly forgotten about until then.

"Is there someplace we can put him?" the familiar voice queried with a groan.

He didn't hear a response; he just kept moving until the duo eased him to the ground. His saviors stood over him and in hushed whispers spoke amongst themselves. The woman let out a sigh and the man walked away.

"Can I get you to take off your helmet so I can check you out?" she asked finally. Colvin, through the hazy blur, saw two small hands come towards his face. Instinctively, he tried to stop them. "I really need to see how much trauma was done." Her voice was soft and calm as she explained why she was doing it. His hands slipped from hers and he nodded in a daze.

He released the seals and she helped him remove his helmet. His head was heavy and almost unbearable to hold up any longer. Blood dripped from his forehead on his armor, but at that point he didn't rightly care. He just thought about Quinn and how much he didn't want her to ever see him like that.

An audible gasp escaped her. He looked at her; his remaining strength waned just to meet her eye. He saw large glassy eyes staring back at him. Her mouth was covered by her hand.

"No, Quinn" he mumbled.

"Colvin," she breathed.

He tried everything in his power to smile at her – just to make her feel better. He lifted his hand to hers and pulled it from her face. His vision became worse as he watched her expression change from shock to sadness. Everything in him told him to hold on. Don't sleep. He matched her sadness when he realized that he could not feel her hand through the heavy metal of his gauntlet. It was the one thing he ached for, even if were for a moment it would a moment of pure grandeur for him.

"Is something wrong?" the older man asked.

Quinn straightened, pulled her hand from his and shook her head. She cleared her throat and uttered, "No. He has a laceration and a concussion."

"Alright," he replied. "When you've got him stabilized, I could use your help with this one."

She nodded and returned her attention to Colvin. She feigned a smile and pulled her pack in front of her. She dug through it and pulled out a small box. By now, his eyelids were heavy and her voice drifted from barely audible to crystal clear. Soft shaking would wake him from his stupor and ground him into reality, but he could no longer keep his eyes open.

He muttered incoherently as she asked him questions, but his hand never left her lap as she worked on him. It was where they wanted it to stay for the time being and he was glad for it in a sense. He felt like he was home with her. It was the only thing that made sense to him as the questions and jostling subsided and he felt his full weight sink into the ground.