A year ago:

Grace waved at her audience.

A beautiful smile adorned her face.

Red lips and white teeth… Something you rarely see these days. Though one of the reasons why people would come from all over to see the actors and actresses of Broadway. Not even a nuclear war could dim the light of the theatre district's stardom. The old halls where "My Fair lady" and "Hello, Dolly!" were performed had taken a beating, sure. But they were still manageable and served as the houses for a new era of plays, musicals and art performances. Things you would now only find in the Empire Wasteland.

That evening, Grace Bonny had successfully played in the latest musical of Bernard Mildwalk, Broadway's most famous contemporary playwright. "Help, I married a ghoul!" was a resounding success; Judging from the applause.

"Thank you all! This means the world to me!" Grace smiled; her words barely audible over the grand applause she received. In response she bowed again, and blew kisses into the audience.

One such audience member, sitting up in a box at the side, grinned from under her black veil.

"My my… What a beautiful face." Ania whispered. Before she gently put the cigarette holder to her lips.

"Send her to me, after the show."

*knock knock*

"Come in!" Grace said eagerly while she held her hair up.

She sat in front of her dressing room mirror of which most lightbulbs were gone or broken, but it still worked regardless.

The door opened softly and a large man from Ania Ray's security detail stood in the doorframe.

"What is it sweety?" Miss Bonny smiled at her visitor.

"Erm…" The guard now for the first time saw her up close, she truly was a beauty to behold. She looked like one of those girls you see on old pre-war billboards. So clean… So perfect.

"Miss Ray would like to congratulate you on your show, miss."

Grace Bonny was taken aback, she pressed a hand to her chest.

"Do you mean THE Ania Ray?" She asked flabbergasted.

"… Yes." The broad man replied.

Bonny couldn't believe it. Ania Ray went to see her show! She had heard stories about her before she was someone here in Broadway. She used to be THE biggest star in the whole world… Well, the world that mattered.

"On top of that, she has invited you for dinner."

"You cannot be serious!" Grace exclaimed with glee.

"Miss. I am." The guard said, too dumb to connect the dots and understand that this was important to a rising star like her. No, instead he was imagining himself boning her.

"Oh! But what should I wear?!"

The actress rummaged through a wardrobe filled with clothes that had survived the war. Dresses and high heels, among the least practical of items.

"Dinner at the Ania Ray Lounge. 7 O'clock" The man added. Whilst smiling quietly to himself.

"Oh! I'll be there! Trust me!" Grace nodded.

After that the guard left her to undress, and closed the door again.

After he had done so, yet still had his hand on the doorknob; He contemplated if he should spy through the keyhole. It had after all been a while…

At that moment a stagehand bumped into him with a large faux-marble bust stage prop.

"Sorry, feller. Didn't see you there!" The smaller man excused.

The guard didn't even dignify him with a response, instead he just walked away with red cheeks.

Grace looked up at the night sky. She could see the moon peak through the clouds above, some Hollywood-esque searchlights moved from left to right over the night tapestry with not much of a goal other than to signify that Broadway was the shit, and you should definitely come visit, and spend all your caps.

Caps Grace happened to have. She wore a beautiful dress and coat that matched each other perfectly, taken straight out of a pre-war catalogue. Her high heels clopped over the old cracked road as she made her way to the Ania Ray Lounge. She had been there before, sure. That Jazz player… Tyrone, a new kid, was one of the best things about the club. That and the namesake… The glamour.

Every step closer the grew more nervous. Even after having just performed live in front of hundreds of people. Perhaps because she thought this was going to be a career defining moment.

As she entered the club and left her coat with Venessa. She looked for any sign of Ania. Grace started to wonder what she would look like. I mean, she heard stories about how Miss Ray rarely shows herself in the public these days.

"Miss Bonny?" a suave voice asked her.

"Yes?" She replied back, courteously

"Miss Ray is expecting you on the 75th floor."

"Oh, I was under the impression we would eat down here in the club." Grace seemed surprised, as she gestured at the lounge, full of glamourous ambience.

"No, miss Ray likes to eat with you… In private."

"Eum… Ok." Grace agreed, it's not like she could say 'no' now could she?

After that, the Maître showed the young starlet through the smoky club, towards the hallway where the elevator was.

"Right this way." He told her.

"Thank you." She said innocently as she stepped into the lift.

"The elevator will take you there automatically."

And with that, the doors slowly closed, muting the sounds of the lounge completely.

The mechanism of the elevator kicked into gear and now Grace stood there, in a small cubicle with nothing but the faint humming of the machinery.

It felt weird. To be thrown in such silence all of a sudden. It made her think a bit. Calm down even. Eventually she reached her designated floor. A ding sounded in the arrival and just like that she stepped out, looking into the hallway.

Silence…

It didn't take long before she realized that Ania's room was along the hallway. So with her hand purse strongly in hand she walked over to the door that could only be the one.

After that she breathed in sharply and knocked on the door.

…

"Come in."

Grace obliged, and opened the door carefully.

Amazed by the scale of the room beyond her pretty mouth fell open.

Wow! Just look how huge this place is!

Ania slipped away behind a dressing curtain. Grace had just missed her.

"I'm sorry, darling! I'm not properly dressed yet, I'll be there in a moment!" The diva called out.

"But do help yourself to a glass of champagne!"

Grace then noticed the bucket of champagne on a lone table somewhere in the middle of the room, next to two large chairs.

"Thank you, miss Ray. I do have to say… What an amazing place you have!" Grace said, still gawking around, taking in the little details of the luxurious penthouse.

"Thank you, darling child."

Grace stopped in front of the bottle, it seemed open already, so she only had to pour herself one. Next to the bucket there stood two fancy glasses. A bit nervous, but still in awe, the young starlet did what she was told. The bubbles rose up in the glass with a soft and satisfying trickle. Grace didn't dare to admit she never drank champagne before. It was rare to come by, one wondered how Ania even got her hands on a bottle. Bonny pressed the glass to her lips and took a sip.

"We will eat filet Mignon." Ania revealed from behind the curtain.

"Oh, that sounds fancy." Grace admitted, not knowing what a filet mignon was.

"It's very delicate. Like you."

"Oh, now… Miss Ray." Grace said flattered.

"It's true. I saw your performance earlier tonight. I tremendously enjoyed it."

"I…" Grace found it hard to think.

"I thank you, Miss Ray. But without your investments in Broadway it would never have been possible." The young starlet tried to repay the compliments.

"It's just that…"

Whew… I'm feeling a tad swoony

"What is it my dear?" Ania asked, seeming curious.

"It's just that I…"

What is wrong? I feel so… Sleepy…

Ania walked in from behind the curtains. Wearing a bright red dress, that cascaded down over her hourglass figure, it was sleeveless and ended at above her breasts. Her chest… Was horribly burned… So were her arms, in fact, they looked worse than burned, they looked dead… and veiny and horrible.

"Wha…" Grace's eyes felt heavy.

Ania smiled, her rotting teeth showing from her bright red lips. Ania's hair was blonde and brushed in a swirly wave over her pink face. Her head seemed to clash with the rest of her body. But at this point Grace's vision was blurry and …

She passed out.

Grace's head felt heavy. Like her brain had soaked up water like a sponge.

"Ugh…"

"Oh, you're coming by." Ania said. Seemingly concerned.

"Well… I threw away the champagne already… Damnit. Then we'll just have to do it like this."

"Like wha…" Grace struggled, it felt so hard to open her eyelids. But she managed, eventually.

Ania's face was still blurry though, everything further away than her nose was.

The starlet wished to get up, but she couldn't. It didn't take long before she realized she was strapped down to a table with leather straps, keeping her from moving her head and limbs.

"What is going on her…" She panicked, though did not yet have the power to speak out like she meant it.

"I'm doing a make-over, Honey." Ania replied.

Her face was starting to take shape through the blurriness.

Pink cheeks, red lips… nice eyebrows…

Though… Perhaps a little broad. And what are those shimmering things on her forehead.

The picture started to get clearer. They were… pins. Stiches of sort. Keeping 'it' on.

An excessive amount of eyeshadow was used to conceal the fact that those eyes were actually underneath the skin.

"Oh my god…" Grace protested meekly.

Yes, another girl's face was stretched over the ghoul's own face. The ghoul being Ania.

"Hush now darling."

"Mamma's going to put something on to relax.

Grace wanted to cry, scream, protest! But she was still too sedated. Ray meanwhile, gently put the needle of a record player down.

After that she raised her scalpel, which shone bright in the surgical lamp above Grace.

"I just need your face honey. This one's started to peel off as well."

At that point grace had started crying.

Ray didn't care and put her cold dry hand on top of the young Starlet's head. After which she pressed the scalpel against Grace's chin.

To then start cutting herself a new face.

A few hours later, Morgan opened her eyes, and peered at Rooks side. She lay quietly, enjoying the moment, and the peace.

Rook sensed Morgan stir from her change in breathing.

"You are awake."

"Yeah..." Morgan said softly, still sounding sleepy. "I... thanks for looking after me."

"You are my friend, Morgan." Said Rook. Obviously he was using the word for more than it's base definition, but he wasn't really able to figure out another word that meant the same thing but to a stronger degree.

"Do you mean something more than friends?" Morgan asked, glancing up at Rooks face.

Rook stared back at Morgan, and was silent for a long time.

"Does this question have a correct answer?"

"I'm uncertain." Morgan whispered. "Just say what you feel is right."

"I feel that without you, I would be very empty. But with you I feel very warm and upbeat. Like I have just reactivated from a cooldown cycle. When Hamilton shot you I felt pain- but nothing physical. However, it would appear none of my circuits are malfunctioning. I then came to a conclusion. You are... unique to me. Irreplaceable."

Rook canted his head at her, like he always did when he required input or explanation, or something was confusing him.

"Does that make sense?"

Morgan's face went red and she nodded. "It does make sense..." She whispered.

"Do you feel that way? I am your irreplaceable friend?"

"You are my only friend." Morgan mumbled. "That makes you very irreplaceable..."

Rook nodded, then fell silent. He loosened his grip on Morgan, and then reached down with one hand to pull the comforter up.

"You are my only friend as well."

"Rook..." Morgan started before falling quiet and curling up close. "You're the best..."

Rook didn't respond his thanks, but wrapped his arms around Morgan again, pulling her into his embrace.

"You are the best, Morgan." Rook echoed, unable to really express himself in any other way.

Morgan whimpered before slowly nodding. "You mean...a...lot to me..."

"You mean a lot to me too." He repeated back to her. When she said the words, and he made sense of them, they certainly agreed with how he felt. Thus, echoing what she said felt appropriate.

Morgan smiled and rested her head on Rooks chest. "Thank you..."

"Why thank me?" Rook asked, pressing his chin into his chest so that he could see her face.

"Because you make me happy..." Morgan mumbled in reply.

Rook nodded and lay his head back on the pillow.

"You make me happy, Morgan. I know what happiness is because of you."

I could say the same...

Morgan smiled through her pain and laughed quietly. "I'm glad I could show you."

"Are you rested?" Rook asked, slowly pulling one of his arms away.

"If I say no, would we stay like this?" Morgan retorted.

"Yes." Rook answered flatly, like the answer was obvious. He furrowed a brow.

"Do you want to stay like this?"

"Yes..." Morgan admitted, looking a little flustered.

"I...am enjoying it."

Rook canted his head at Morgan.

"Why?" He asked, curious. He did however, perhaps noticeably, wrap his arm back around Morgan.

"I feel...I dunno.." Morgan mumbled. "I feel safe like this…"

Rook smiled at her.

"I want to keep you safe." He said, forgoing any 'my missions' or 'protocol dictates.' He guessed it was good to state of he really felt as a person every now and then.

Morgan giggled childishly and buried her face in her hand. "D-don't. You'll make me blush..."

Rook reached up and touched the backs of his fingers to Morgan's face.

"Why is that?"

"I... I um..." Morgan stumbled, looking down at her hand. She seemed incredibly nervous for some reason...

"S'n-nothing!"

"Morgan." Rook began, lowering his voice to a soft rumble in his chest. He touched the points of his fingers to her chin, and tilted her face up to look at his. Compared to how he normally was, Rook was being awfully handsy.

"I am not good at reading emotions." He stated. "But I can see you are anxious from a plethora of tell-tales. I want you to tell me. This is important, what we are discussing right now." Rook said, trying to convey how much he wanted her to talk to him in the best way he could. "I may be free, but I am also yours."

Jesus...

Morgan gulped and shook her head. "I... I know, I c-can say the same.." She whispered softly.

Rook shook his head.

"I do not understand."

"I belong to you..." Morgan said incredibly quietly. She was barely audible. "I'll be here for you, no matter what. Until I die."

Rook furrowed his brow, taking it all in, still confused, but gradually gaining a better handle on things.

"Does that make you my wife?"

Morgan sighed in mock frustration and broke out into a giggle. "No, Rook." She chuckled. "It makes us...I dunno...special friends. The best kind?"

Rook then recited something in perfect imitation of Morgan's voice: "'A wife is...what a woman becomes when a man or another woman, loves them a great deal, and wants to spend their life together.'"

He stared blankly at Morgan for a moment, before asking,

"Do we love each other?"

"I...am unsure..." Morgan whispered, her eyes watering.

Rook pressed his palm against Morgan's face and lowered his forehead to her's, so that they were nose to nose, and looked straight into her eyes.

"I love you, Morgan."

Morgan blinked and glanced down to Rooks nose before flicking back up to his eyes. "How? Y-you don't even know what it is..."

"I have learned much on my mission with you. Hamilton assumed you were my wife, because of our conversational dynamic. Garrett explained to me what friends are. But friends do not share beds or require each other to achieve a fufilling rest. Nor do they get exploited as a weakness. I have not changed my mind. That is the point. I want to spend my life with you even though it is totally irrational. I have terminated non-combatants for much less than the insults you have done to me. You are an encumbrance. Tactically, I am more likely to be terminated with you in the vicinity. The only logical conclusion is that I must be in love with you." Rook explained, applying logic to things that logic really shouldn't be applied to.

"It is the undeniable conclusion I have reached."

"Rook..." Morgan gasped, placing her free hand over his and gently lowering it so she could free up her face.

"I took away your freedom remember? I've done nothing but...but lie to you and...it...P-people would find it...unethical."

Rook didn't resist, letting her guide his hand away. His brow stayed furrowed, as dramatic as always.

"You have not lied to me."

"Remember when I asked you to tell me about the Commonwealth?" Morgan asked, hanging her head.

"I... didn't need to hear it. I actually came from there..."

Rook showed a surprising amount of emotion by widening his eyes in shock. He was silent for a moment.

"That was smart of you." He noted. "I would have killed you had I known back then." The android admitted. He touched her arm with his free hand.

"Morgan, I do not want there to be any more secrets or hidden information. I want to be able to trust you completely. And I want you to trust me wholly." Rook did not have a sex drive, being a machine and all and having no capability or need to reproduce, and thus the next sentence had to be put into context. "I want to be as close with you as two persons can be."

"Well...that's all I had to say..." Morgan stammered. "It... was what was on my mind earlier. B-besides, I don't think you're capable of providing every aspect of that..."

Rook canted his head.

"What do you mean, 'every aspect'?"

"Erm...it doesn't really m-matter Rook..." Morgan blushed.

Rook, for once, knew exactly what Morgan was talking about.

This was covered in his programming. Seduction run-times were a valuable part of intelligence gathering and a vital function of any infiltrator.

"Morgan... once you've had me, you'll never want a real man again." He told her in a soft voice.

If I wasn't so injured right now...

"I have never wanted an actual man, ever..." She admitted, though it took a lot for her to do so.

"I can..." Rook started. "Do you want me to...?"

"I'm too hurt..." Morgan whispered

"I...I...I d-dunno..."

"It is up to you." He said, changing his body language, his hands lowering or rising to places that he'd previously avoided.

"Even with your wound I can still... preform in any way you wish." He met her eyes. "Will you trust me?"

Rook nodded.

"Very well. I just thought it was an effective use of time, as you do not want to move. Tell me whenever you are ready."

He re-adjusted his arms back around her back.

Morgan gently shook her head and kept her smile. "It's alright, you can go do other things. You must be bored."

"I do not get bored. I lay in this bed for over 8 hours with only the ceiling to stare at."

"You didn't sleep?" Morgan asked. "Or...power store..."

"No." Rook answered simply. "I did not need to. And I had to guard you."

Morgan rolled onto her back gently and sighed quietly. "I...am bored of being stuck in bed..."

"Your wound was grievous, Morgan." Said Rook, rolling onto his side to look at her. "It is crucial you remain immobile."

"I know..." Morgan muttered. "But it's so dull..."

"Tell me what you know of the Commonwealth." Said Rook. "Since you are from there as well." He pulled his jacket off, letting the wounds on his back and arms breath fresh air. They'd already started to seal up, thanks to the stimpack.

"Well...I grew up in the Capitol Building." Morgan mused, thinking back. "The people had taken it over from a bunch of raiders, or so I'm told." She sighed, rolling her head so she could look at Rook.

"It was shite. Nobody talked to me unless they wanted to insult me..."

"Did you have parents?"

"I did, but they never wanted anything to do with me..." Morgan shrugged. "Been alone most my life..."

"You are not alone anymore, Morgan. I will always be with you." Rook said confidently.

"You will?" Morgan giggled. "Sure you won't get bored of me?"

"I do not get bored." Rook reiterated. "I am with you for life."

Gods we are starting to sound like a married couple here...

Morgan smiled her appreciation. "Then it is good to know I'll have someone to talk to."

Rook nodded, then fell silent. He rolled onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling.

Morgan also looked up to the ceiling. She awkwardly and not so subtly, placed her hand on Rooks stomach.

"What do you think about, when you stare at the ceiling?"

"I review memories. I forget nothing, and I use empty time to relive them. I then reflect on them. I see if I can discern anything from my experiences." He turned his head to look at Morgan and gave her the technical explanation. "My learning computer absorbs any information I have recorded but not deemed significant until now, and then uses algorithms to make sense of its usefulness."

"Ah so you think of the past." Morgan nodded, shuffling a little closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "Can you tell me about some of it?"

Rook put an arm around Morgan, for no reason other than he wanted to.

"My most vivid memory is of a battle south of Boston. There was a large force of raiders encroaching on strongly Commonwealth controlled portions of the city. I and several Police were sent out to fight them. They had the high ground and an entrenched position, as well as many explosives. It was very chaotic. Have of our force was dead before we terminated a sole unit of the enemy. It is hard to figure everything out that happened. I was damaged very badly in the fight, and one of two survivors. This is the one I review most often, to see if I can find something I missed. Despite how... unpleasant it is." His voice lacked emotion, he told the story in a neutral tone, only perhaps showing a grain of how he felt at the end when he paused.

"Sometimes, things can't be explained by logic. However, these Raiders did seem to have an unfair advantage." Morgan noted, furrowing her brow now too.

"Did you win?"

"Yes. I terminated all hostiles."

"Weren't your masters at the Commonwealth angry they lost so many androids?" She asked, quite curious.

"They lost no androids. I was the only one sent. All the Police were humans. No one from the SRB."

"Were they angry over the Humans then?"

"Perhaps, but I do not possess that information. But it did not matter to me then, and they knew it. I returned, gave them a report on the engagement, and then was assigned my next mission."

"Ah I see..." Morgan nodded. "So uhm...did you like your job at all? I imagine not…"

"I did not like it. Nor did I dislike it. It was my purpose. I had no opinion on it. It was my function and I performed it. That is like asking an oven whether it likes to bake food." He paused. "But now that I am self-determinant, I do not think I would still do it. It does not appeal to me."

"Yes, you seem like the kind of person to save lives, right?" Morgan teased, knowing full well he never.

Rook lowered his gaze to Morgan and smiled at her.

"That is a joke."

"Correct." Morgan giggled. "I'm proud you understand."

Rook rolled onto his side, so that he could face Morgan completely, and pulled her into his embrace.

"Why did you leave the Commonwealth?"

"There was nothing keeping me there anymore." Morgan whispered. "After I won that pip-boy, I was gone."

"Did you ever encounter any androids?"

"Yeah..." Morgan admitted. "I er...used my own robot to blow him up and nick the Pip-Boy..."

Rook smiled again, the grin wrinkling his face, and pulled Morgan closer.

"It must've not had a very durable exoskeleton. Or your explosive was exponentially stronger."

"I think it was an older model Android." Morgan said quietly, growing timider the closer she got. "Er...and Henleys grenades were super powerful. B-built him and them myself. W-well I more...repaired H-Henley, b-but still..."

"What is a Henley?" Asked Rook, relaxing when they were chest to chest.

Morgan exhaled heavily before talking. She could hear her pulse racing in her head.

"Henley was a Protectron I found whilst out after curfew. I... dragged him back to my room, repaired him, gave him an upgrade and improved his AI..." She sighed, somewhat regretful.

"He could have reached Self-Determination, I know it."

Rook nodded and then canted his head at Morgan and furrowed his brow.

"He was terminated?"

"Affirmative." Morgan said regretfully. "To protect me..."

Rook was silent again, and averted his eyes from Morgan's face, staring past her.

Maybe I took Henley for granted far too much.

Morgan sighed and looked up to Rooks chin. "What's wrong?"

Rook looked back at Morgan.

"Nothing. I just do not have any words." He retreated up with one hand and gently pressed his thumb into the smooth skin of her face, slowly exploring it.

"You know I do not speak much. Carrying a conversation for even this long is a task."

"You're doing great Rook."

Morgan smiled when he touched her face. It felt very warm, but not sweaty. Just... pleasant.

Rook had a feeling he was expected to do something, but wasn't sure what. He knew either end of the spectrum of this, but not the in-between.

"Is there a certain operation I am supposed to preform?" He asked.

"Erm no? N-not that I know of..." Morgan mumbled, shrugging. "J-just do what you feel like doing."

"I do not feel like doing anything. I do not possess this instinct." Rook pointed out. "All I know is that you have an increased heart rate and that blood has engorged certain vesicles. But more importantly, I want to please you." Rook explained, meeting her eyes.

"Well...feeling this close to someone, when you've never had that before is very pleasing." Morgan smiled, not breaking her gaze away from Rooks. "I...well...wh-what do your programs tell you to do?"

Rook blinked.

"Do you want me to explain that in detail?"

Morgan simply nodded.

"M-maybe not super detailed or a-anything. Just the gist..."

Rook then gave Morgan a perhaps too detailed explanation of the actions a man and a woman would do together when on a piece of furniture such as this bed and had sent the kids off to sleep-overs.

"...that is what I would do." He said, still completely stoic. Obviously, he was just stating facts.

Morgan croaked voicelessly for a few minutes, completely dumbfounded by the stoic description of such things. Eventually she started breathing again and calmed down enough to speak.

"C-could you maybe j-just..."

Just say it! Bullies ain't here anymore, are they? No.

"I d-dunno...It...it's n-nothing."

Wimp...

"Morgan." Rook said. "Speak. I am your special friend."

Urgh I should have told him something different to call...whatever we are.

Special Friends sounds so childish.

Morgan gulped and looked away from Rooks face. "I-it's ok. It d-doesn't matter, r-really."

"Morgan." Rook said again, more firmly. He did not like having things kept from him, when he was always so open. It... frustrated him. He tightened the embrace, not letting her move away.

"Morgan." He said again. "It does matter. This is all very important to me." Rook realised that he'd never really had things be important to him before. Frankly, he'd never cared about anything. But Morgan was important and she mattered. "Morgan." He said for a third time.

She closed her eyes and breathed heavily for a while, since Rook tightening his hold, shifted her bullet wound and it still stung like a bitch.

"I...I..."

Just fucking say it! You didn't escape the Commonwealth to be held back by them right now!

"Iwantyoutokissme." She said extremely quickly before hiding her face as best she could.

"Oh." Said Rook. "That is doable." He brushed his lips over her forehead for a start.

"Show me your face." He said, lowering his voice to a gentle rumble in the back of his chest.

Morgan shuddered involuntarily and slowly looked up to Rooks face.

I've always wondered what this would feel like.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her's and then moved his mouth against her's, slowly and gently.

It feels real? Hell, I wouldn't have anything to compare it to. It is real. It's really happening..

Morgan pulled away after a brief moment, her face redder than ever. She mumbled out her thanks and curled up to close her eyes.

"Do you like that?" He asked, cradling her back in his arms.

"I do yes..." Morgan grinned. "It was g-great!"

Rook nodded, settling back in the bed.

"We're going to have to get to Governor's island somehow." Rook suddenly said in a low tone.

"Rook..." Morgan said softly. "People who go there they..." She sighed, and looked painfully into his eyes.

"They don't come back…"

Garry wandered back into the former apartment complex, looking incredibly tired, though he was used to that at this point.

Garry wandered over to the window, getting his rifle at the ready as he looked out. Somehow, the streets bellow looked even more dead during the day, than they did at night...

The Wastelander looked up at the city landscape and furrowed his brow, finding himself to be growing frustrated with the fact that he was stuck here and couldn't do anything.

I know you're out there... He thought, as though he could telepathically project his thoughts to Hamilton directly.

His rifle still had enough bullets to take Hamilton down, if he popped up again but now he'd lost the element of surprise. Rook had no idea how bad their next attempt could go down and in spite of the fact that everyone was trying to tell him to let it go, he just couldn't.

He was so close to escaping it all, to avenging Anna and ending his previous life...

He felt hope for the first time in his life and it was once again dashed by the ego of an idiot...