Hey all, quick and friendly PSA note: the CDC-center of disease control- has now recommended the follow procedures for preventing the spread of Covid 19. (Particularly for those readers in the United states of America, as that is what I am most knowledgeable on.)

-Wear a mouth covering-such as a scarf, banana, or home made face mask-and gloves-whatever type you have access to at home-while out and about in public.

-Keep in person shopping to essentials and shop with a purpose-assuming you haven't been put under quarantine yet.

-If you are shopping, don't touch an item unless you are committed to buying it. (Just imagine that it has a ton of corrupted, disease ridden demon blood on it. Ew! Your new shoes don't need that noise! Nor do your hands!)

-Remember to treat these coverings as if they are covered in infected demon's blood or other bodily fluids-don't give ASH a chance to get you too!-and to remove them accordingly. DO NOT touch the outer parts that may have been exposed to any disease particulates and wash immediately upon returning home.

-wash your hands! (You think zombie slaying Leon or Chris isn't a germaphobe in their spare time? You bet your ass they are! Don't be like that weirdo Albert Wesker, rubbin' unmentionable gross all over himself. No Wesker. Just. No.)

-maintaining your social distance of 6 feet (Finally an excuse to read even MORE fanfiction in the comfort and privacy of your home! Woot!)

My 16 1/2 month old writer's block and myself thank you in advance for helping keep both yourself and us safe! :)

Sarah

She went still, resting against the wall for support, listening for people in the hallways. There was no way she was waiting for nurse clearance that would never come. No Sarah was tired of waiting. She didn't want to share the room with Rowan and Sage anymore. She didn't know where Tweak was, and even if she did, she wasn't sure she wanted to talk with him. Instead there was someone else she wanted to see.

The cafeteria had its lights on day and night. Over time, it had turned into a popular hangout place. Even when food wasn't being served, which wasn't happening as much any more in either case. Hunnigan had set volunteers to work with the engineering squad, something about hydroponically grown crops, but there was zero news on that yet.

Sarah found him exactly where she expected to find the old detective. Sitting quietly in a chair in the corner, a glass of water at his elbow, nose deep in a worn paperback. He looked up as she sat down next to him.

"Sarah." He set the book down after sliding a book mark between the pages.

"Brian," Sarah retorted. A small smile upturned his mouth as he studied the young woman before turning his attention back to the few groups of people gathered about the large room. The scorch marks the grenades had left were more or less scrubbed up and volunteer construction crews were working on fixing any structural damages.

"Anything I can help you with?" Grant asked after a moment. Sarah looked at him, her eyes haunted.

"I found him, Grant."

"Tweak?"

"Yeah," she nodded, looking away. "I don't know why I was so worried about him." She shrugged, biting her bottom lip as she looked down into her palms. "He wasn't worried about me. Or, um, if he was, it wasn't in the same way."

"Tweak, the man that watched after you after your brother died?" Grant asked. Again, Sarah nodded.

"My parents did something-I'm not even sure what-but the fey claimed ownership over them. They were treated like slaves and it cost them their lives. I was little but I remember it. One day I was going to daycare with other kids, the next day, no more school." Sarah paused leaning back in her chair.

"You've told me this before," Grant commented gently. "You were dependent on your brother after that."

"Yeah," Sarah nodded. "We lived in an inner city fey court for rejects, run by fey not even other fairies wanted to be around. But you know," Sarah took a long deep breath, "It wasn't all bad. I learned magic. We made friends. Like Tweak."

"Like Lor," Grant added. Sarah made a face.

"She was more of Aaron's buddy, after he joined the head bitch's security team or something like that. Aaron said she had money troubles, made a deal with the wrong kind of fey. Her, Aaron and Tweak would do whatever the head bitch or head bastard at the moment wanted. Until Lor decided she didn't want to anymore." Sarah took a breath.

"I used to evy her, you know? She got to hang out with Aaron and Tweak more than I did. I wanted to be strong like them, not the weakling baby who got left behind. They just, everyone leaves me behind, Grant." Grant studied her profile for a moment.

"Sarah, how old are you?" At that Sarah glanced at Grant, offering him a small, sly smile.

"I'm not entirely sure," Sarah shrugged. "Time sometimes works differently in fey courts. I guess you could say I'm only young on the outside," she replied. "After Lor quit, they were ordered to hunt her down. Then Aaron died, and the only ones left were Tweak and me." Sarah turned to the old man. "He told me he sent me away for my safety." Grant raised both eyebrows in surprise, indicating he was still listening. Sarah leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.

"I would have rather died by his hand knowing he loved me," Sarah said quietly, staring at the floor, "than to be sent away without a word."

The paperback book smacked gently onto the top of her head. Startled, Sarah looked up to Grant.

"Be that as may, it would be a terrible thing to lose someone like you." Grant cleared his throat, retracting the paper back. He turned his attention towards the gathered groups of people. "You grew up in the fey courts and it shows. Out here," Grant gestured to the people, "life is precious. You only get one. Your friend sent you away because-"

"He made a fairy pact to my brother that he'd keep me safe," Sarah retorted bitterly. "I could jump in front of a bullet and he'd be obligated to step between it and I. He doesn't love me Grant. He's just," Sarah sighed, "keeping his word." Grant chuckled. Sarah blinked.

"What?" she demanded, annoyed.

"It's nothing," the old man started.

"Clearly it's something," Sarah retorted, her irritation rising.

"You're outsides are matching your insides," Grant replied, a kind hearted smile on his mouth. Sarah gave him a confused look.

"Your literal age might not match your outer appearance, but neither does your experience with others," Grant explained. "You came here looking for someone to talk to. Care if I do some of that talking now?" Sarah shrugged, studying the man as she waited.

"You should let it go for now. You might be in love, but it's too big for you to hold right now. If it were a bowling ball, you'd drop it on the floor. Good love doesn't belong on the floor." Grant gestured to the crowds. "Get to know other people-people who don't know anything about the fey. Get involved in the community here. They are looking for volunteers for everything."

"And?" Sarah demanded after a moment.

"Go volunteer. Go meet people. Get a few more bowling balls and learn to juggle them before you come back to this love issue," Grant replied. "If it's really what you think it is, your feelings won't change over time. If they do, then you know they weren't as serious or as big as you thought they were.."

She was quiet for a long time, thinking about that.

"You think so?"

"Yes, I do." Again she was quite a long time, thinking about it.

"Grant?"

"Yeah."

"I've never been bowling before."

"Then start there," he suggested. "Get someone-other than me-to teach you how to bowl." Sarah blinked.

"You won't teach me."

"Nope," Grant picked up his book, flipping to the book mark. "I'm old and this book is good. Plenty of people here that might though." Sarah looked at the groups of people then back at the old man. His nose was already buried in his paperback. Taking a deep breath, Sarah got to her feet. Well, she'd come for advice and this was it.

Hunnigan

She leaned over Mike's shoulder, peering at the monitors he had set up in the hanger. The signals were coming in relatively well. They had traces on every ETAP band. No surprise neither of the twins were wearing theirs. Leon's band spiked, rising and falling rapidly.

"What is that?" Hunnigan pointed at the screen. "Is there a problem with your technology."

"Doubtful," Mike's hands flew over the keyboard. "Leon's vitals are all within normal parameters. Whatever his ETAP band is picking up, it's external."

"They found something," Trish's voice was soft. Hunnigan straitened, looking at the blonde. Trish's eyes were trained on the portal.

"Demons," Lucia agreed, her words soft. Softly she coughed, her skin pale. Trish studied her.

"Should you be up and moving around?" She asked the acadian after a moment.

"I am fine," Lucia replied softly. Another short coughing fit took over. "Messiur Raziel cured me, with his medicine. He had me sent here with Matier-my mother," Lucia explained. She waved a dismissive hand. "I will be fine. I have missed out on much. I do not intend to lay about further."

"Raziel?" Hunnigan broke in. rounding the desk, she approached the lithe tan woman. "Raziel had you sent here?" Lucia's green eyes took in Hunnigan.

"Yes. I was unwell for a long time. Matier grew desperate and started searching for doctors. Messiur Raziel was the only one who would take the time to talk with her." Hunnigan's mind raced. Whirling, she turned to Mike.

"Mike!" Startled, Mike jumped, head jerking towards Hunnigan.

"You still have all the data from Karkarov's experiments, yes?" Nervously Mike's eyes darted to the blonde amazon and the lithe redhead.

"I hardly think now is the time-"

"Yes or nor?" Hunnigan demanded.

"Um, yes?"

"Right. We are going to cross reference Karkarov's research with whatever we were able to salvage from Raziel's lab. If anything sticks, I want to know about it." Stupefied, Mike stared at her.

"Now?"

"Yes Mike. Now." Mike adjusted his glasses.

"The data is in a different storage space. This computer isn't connected to-"

"I can monitor the screens," Hunnigan approached the desk. She crossed her arms, looking down at the desk jockey. "You have your orders. Get to work Mike."

Mike took a deep breath and let it out with a gust.

"You're the boss lady, but no, I'm staying here." Hunnigan raised an eyebrow. "I am the head of computer analytics," Mike replied evenly. "I have a staff, remember? I'll pass the orders along now."

"Mike," Hunnigan began.

"You want to know why Karkarov didn't red flag my team and throw us in the coffins?" Mike retorted.

"Because he knew you wouldn't be able to run away?" Trish guessed, flatly. Mike shot her a look, his palms going to smooth his shirt over his-noticeably diminished-gut. THe food rationing had been hitting him harder than others-or perhaps it was the lack of access he had to his favorite snack foods.

"No, because computer nerds know how to keep their mouths shut. We also know when to speak up. Rayne is activating her ETAP as well." Mike threw in the last part, leaning forward, his eyes on the monitor. Quickly Hunnigan took up her position hovering over Mike's shoulder.

"Pucker up, buttercups, we have company," Trish replied. Glancing up Hunnigan saw what could only be described as nightmare fuel lurking on the other side of the portal. A creature, mangled and distorted, laughing.

"They will not get past us," Lucia said calmly, her hands going to her twin short swords. Throwing knives glittered in holsters upon her thighs.

"Right," Mike pulled a gun off the top of his desk and handed it to Hunnigan. Chambering a round, she joined Lucia and Trish in front of the portal. Trish glanced at her and Lucia.

"It should go without saying, but don't get bit."