Chapter 29

Small Hours

It was four in the afternoon. At least, that's what the sundial in the garden said. To the two sitting on the bench, it seemed as though time had stopped altogether.

The awful, dreamlike night had come and gone. They had never left Deborah's side, sinking into their places on the floor and staying there as the darkness deepened. Elisabeth had brought them blankets near midnight, having come in and found, to her alarm, that they were almost as cold as the woman in the bed was. When the next morning had come, they had followed the casket out of the Infirmary. By some miracle, there had been one coffin left in the colony. Supply was finding it difficult to keep up with the increasing demand of the war.

As they stepped outside into the sunlight, Lucas had paused and looked over his shoulder at the building. He hated it, of course. Everyone hated it to a certain extent. Some of the worst moments of his life had occurred in that place .. but also some of the best, though he wouldn't ever have thought so at the time. It had become a sort of home to him, and there was a distinct part of him that grieved the thought of finally leaving it. He had turned and followed the procession away.

Memorial Field, though miraculously untouched by the fighting, was deemed too dangerous to hold the funeral in, though Skye had insisted her mother be buried beside her father. The ceremony was conducted inside the colony, near the gates. It had been a fairly short affair. Everyone was perpetually on edge as they tried to listen to Boylan, eyes frequently flicking to check the sky, ears constantly listening for the first blare of the sirens, muscles tensed, ready to spring into action should the call ring out. It did not, however. The funeral, just like the night before, came and went. Skye and Lucas had followed in silence as several members of the security team carried Deborah home to be buried. Reynolds - still in the process of regaining his vision properly, though well on his way to a full recovery, much to everyone's relief - had been permitted to help carry the casket, sandwiched in the middle left as a precaution. Skye had felt a vague flash of gratitude as they slowly lowered the box into the ground, their movements just as careful and gentle as she herself would have been.

They had both watched, pale-faced and dry-eyed, as the first layer of dirt had showered down, quickly covering the last traces of Deborah they would ever see. The headstone had preceded her there. Her name had been carved into the face, though not the date. There was no way of knowing exactly which year they were living in as far as this world went, and as of yet, there had been no consensus about the prospect of continuing to use the old future terms, so gravestones remained dateless. This one had been resting beside Alex's for some time now. As such, the thick slab already wore a weathered look. It conveyed a strange sort of sentiment to those viewing the little burial, as though it had been waiting all this time for her, waiting for the story to be completed, keeping watch until the time finally came to welcome her home.

Somehow, Skye and Lucas had ended up back inside the gates, had found their way to a bench across from the marketplace, had watched everyone else disperse and go home, taking a moment to pay their respects and then leaving to resume their lives, seemingly unaware of the fact that, for two members of the colony, life had stopped altogether.

Skye looked down at her right hand. At some point that morning, someone had made her shower, had tended to her injuries, had wrapped her hand up to protect it. She couldn't remember who it was, couldn't remember feeling the sting of the antiseptic as it touched her raw skin. She was in different clothes, her hair had been washed. She didn't even know when or how it had happened. She turned her hand over, examining it disinterestedly. Her wrists had transformed into an almost pretty shade of purplish blue, the bruises encircling them like bracelets. They should hurt as well. They didn't.

She glanced up at Lucas. He had sat beside her for some time, never saying a word. He seemed to have retreated into the depths of his mind, closing the door on the pain and reality of the outside world, as he always did. She had to draw him back into the light somehow, before he finished bolting the doors and locked himself away for good.

"I overheard the nurses talking." She ventured, her voice sounding strange and colorless, even to her own ears, though she was powerless to fix it. "They said you were with her, they said .. that they found you lying over her the night the colony was attacked .."

She paused. Was she getting through? His expression didn't seem to have changed, but there was something ..

Somehow, she knew he was listening.

"You were prepared to die for her." She continued softly. "They thought you were crazy, to die for a woman who was dying already .."

Skye watched him, a mixture of sorrow and gratitude in her face.

".. maybe it was crazy. But .."

She trailed off, dropping her head and leaning it against his shoulder.

".. thank you."

He rested his head against hers, but said nothing. There didn't seem to be anything to say. She was gone. Every word on the planet seemed to pale in the light of it.

"Skye .."

They looked up as the owner of the voice stopped awkwardly in front of them, including Lucas in his glance, though never mentioning his name. Skye stared at him for a moment in confusion, trying to swim through the sea of faces and memories in her mind to find the right one to connect this new arrival with. She knew him, she knew she did .. but somehow her mind just wouldn't .. Josh!

Josh stood still as she watched him, meeting her gaze solemnly.

"I just wanted to tell you .. I'm sorry. I know it can't help, but .."

"It's alright." She looked down at her hands, squeezing one bruised wrist with the other, as if she was trying to elicit some reaction from inside of herself. Nothing happened.

"Hey .."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. It didn't come back.

"I just .. well. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Skye didn't look up at him. Her voice sounded almost alarmingly tired. "Everyone loses their parents sooner or later .. right?"

Something stabbed at Josh's chest, but he subdued it and took a step back.

"If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. We're all here for you .. okay?"

"Thanks."

He cast another glance at Lucas before turning away. The physicist didn't meet his eye. Josh gave up the attempt and moved to rejoin his own mother, falling into step beside her in silence. When they had retreated a safe distance, Elisabeth looked inquiringly at him.

"Well? Any observations to share, Doctor?"

He looked down at her affectionately, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"She's still trying to catch up. I think they both are."

"Mm," Elisabeth smiled sadly. "Poor things. But hey, on the bright side, at least he can finally go for a shower now."

Her oldest son paused mid-step.

".. what .."

"Oh." She laughed a little at the expression on his face. "During the last few days, he wouldn't leave her, not even to shower. It was sweet, in a way. I think he was too afraid she'd slip away if he wasn't there to hold her back. He couldn't even let go of her hand. Like the second he released her .. she'd .."

Josh turned back sharply as a sob broke from his mother. Elisabeth was holding a hand to her mouth, as though she was trying to stifle the pain that had suddenly welled up inside her and was now threatening to spill out. Even as Josh watched in alarm, the hand was beginning to grow wet with tear streaks. Evidently some of the grief had managed to escape after all. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her lightly.

"Come on, Mom. Let's go home."

They spent the rest of the day sitting on the floor and playing with the younger members of the family. It in the end, it was the best thing for them. The life and lightheartedness of the children seemed to soothe the raw wound that the recent death had created. No matter what happened, they bounced back. No matter the terror of the previous night, when the morning came, the children forgot and put all their effort into their own games once more. There was something absurdly hopeful about the simple acceptance of their circumstances, something that resulted in both Elisabeth and Josh feeling much better by the time the day was out.

Skye and Lucas, however, were a less cheerful story. They remained on the bench for some time, neither particularly eager to face the thought of their own empty houses. Eventually, they fell asleep there, and exhaustion clouded in to cover every fuzzy thought with a white nothingness. They were shaken gently awake just as the sunset was returning to the sky. Forcing their gritty eyes open, they looked up into the sympathetic faces of the head researcher and the colony commander.

"Time to rise and shine so you can go to bed." Malcolm said cheerily, though his voice seemed quieter than usual. "I realize perfectly well that that sounds like an oxymoron, but you'll have to forgive me the irony just this once. You're taking tea in the barracks and then-"

"I swear, you get more British every day." Reilly interrupted, casting a raised eyebrow at her companion as Lucas and Skye looked on in vague confusion. Malcolm snorted.

"I can't help it if the thought of producing a decent evening meal causes you to shudder at your own inadequacy-"

"Okay .." Reilly scoffed, holding up a hand. "Put a lid on it, my lady, or I'll tell the men the food won't measure up to your refined palate. At worst, they'll laugh you right out the gates. At the very least, you'll go hungry."

"Perish the thought!" Malcolm backtracked hurriedly, reaching down to squeeze Lucas' shoulder. "Come on, get a move on, or I'll be forced to sit on you and then we'll all fall asleep."

"Now that I'd like to see." Reilly murmured, and received a snooty glare from her chief science officer in return.

"That's enough out of you, madam, or I'll be forced to hand in my resignation."

"You do that .." Reilly returned, as she helped a stiff Skye to her feet. ".. and I'll be forced to give your Lab to Boylan. He's always complaining that the hall kitchen doesn't have the right equipment for his interrogation serum experiments."

"Boylan?! The man's mad!" Malcolm barked, pulling a weakly protesting Lucas up and dusting him off briskly. "One of these days, he'll really blow himself up, you mark my words."

Reilly smiled kindly.

"Am I to assume that means you'll be staying on then?"

"Only if you feed me." Malcolm retorted. "I don't function properly otherwise."

He held out his pointing finger in the acting commander's direction as she opened her mouth once more.

"Ah! Not another word. These poor people need immediate nourishment and a good night's rest."

Reilly grinned.

"I guess we're in agreement then. Come on, you two. Dinner and bed."

Both Lucas and Skye began to protest at once, but Malcolm shushed them with a wave of his hand.

"Nonsense. Stop it. You're bordering on insubordination, you know. I'm your boss and she's your commander. Show a little respect and do as you're told for once!"

The order was unexpectedly harsh. Reilly eyed him, looking a little shocked, but trying not to show it. Hopefully Malcolm knew what he was doing ..

As it turns out, Malcolm did. Neither one of the captives attempted any further argument. They came along willingly, ushered swiftly to the barracks and into the kitchen to join the already gathered mass of hungry soldiers. After they had picked at their food for a while - under the gazes of several watchful eyes - Reilly pulled them from the noisy room. She immediately placed Lucas in Guzman's waiting hands, leaving him to organize a couch for the weary physicist as she ushered Skye upstairs. Unexpectedly, Lucas didn't protest. Perhaps even more worryingly, neither did Skye.

Reilly came down a short while later to announce that the girl had fallen immediately to sleep and wasn't to be woken again under any circumstances. As if this order for silence wasn't bad enough, she also shooed the remaining crowds away to the dormitory, banning them from the common room for the night so Lucas could rest. He already appeared to be asleep, though in his case, she had her suspicions about the depth of the slumber.

Shortly afterwards, when the kitchen had been emptied, Malcolm had been unceremoniously shown the exit, and the lights had been extinguished, she moved quietly to the door, inched it open, and slid out, clicking it shut behind her. With the large moon lighting her path, Reilly made her way back to the steps of the Command Centre.

Lucas awoke as it was nearing midnight. Pushing himself onto his elbow, his gaze swept across the silver-lit room, suddenly uneasy. But why .. He couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Had someone been at the window? What was-

His heart froze.

A dark shape was standing on the bottom step of the stairs, appearing to face in his direction. In his half-asleep state, he wondered if it might be Deborah, back to warn him of some horrible occurrence that would come to pass in the near future. As the shadowy form shivered, though, his heart remembered how to beat again. It was Skye. Releasing a deep sigh, he slumped down to rest on his arm.

"Skye?" His groggy voice murmured from the couch. "You okay?"

"You awake?" Came the uncertain response. Lucas smiled a little. She sounded like a small child, not at all like the usually self-assured Skye he knew.

"Nightmares?"

When she didn't answer, he pulled himself to a sitting position, his head flopping lazily against the back of the couch, as though he didn't have the willpower to hold it up anymore.

"Come here."

For a moment or two, she hesitated, and he began to wonder if her plan was to completely ignore him. But then her feet moved, and she came, bare footsteps padding softly against the cold wood floors. He shuffled over a little, piling the loaned blanket onto his own lap so she could sit beside him. Then he shook it out and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders, leaving his arm to rest behind her. She didn't seem to have come for the sake of conversation, and something told him not to question her. So they simply sat, side by side, as silence filled the dark room and the moonlight tried to peek in through the window. Lucas, fighting to keep his heavy eyelids from sealing themselves shut, turned his attention to the world outside. A few seconds later, he murmured, half to himself.

"It's snowing."

It was. Skye's own eyes had located the window and now she stared at it distantly, her mind trying to pull up a memory of a night not so long ago, another night where she had sat by herself doing very much the same thing. That time, it had been Lucas' presence in the Infirmary that had kept her from sleeping - though not for the sympathetic reasons one might suspect. Back then, it had been a different kind of distress that had resulted in her midnight observation of the snowfall. All had ended happily, however. Her mother had woken up and they had had an early breakfast at 4:00 am. What had happened to those days?

A movement beside her drew her out of her thoughts, as Lucas squeezed her shoulders briefly and then moved forward to lower himself off the couch.

"Get some sleep. You're exhausted."

She frowned a little as he settled down onto the floor.

"I-"

"I'll be right here, don't worry. If you have another nightmare, just hit me or something. It'll make you feel better immediately, I promise."

Skye tried to smile, but somehow, none of the muscles worked the way they were supposed to. It used to be so easy to pull the corners of her mouth up, they'd felt so light that they had practically formed the expression of their own accord. Now, it felt as though it would take the strength of two people just to lift them. She sighed in frustration.

"You can't sleep on the ground. It's freezing tonight."

"I'll be fine. The rug's pretty thick. It's good insulation." He patted the mat beneath him, as if to demonstrate.

"At least take the blanket."

"No, you keep it." He hugged his knees, rocking back and forth slightly. "You always feel the cold worse than me. I don't want the sound of your chattering teeth to keep me up."

Again, Skye tried to smile. Again, the attempt failed.

"Thank you." She murmured, and Lucas looked up at her from his position on the ground.

"I meant what I said yesterday, you know. It'll be okay."

"Yeah."

"Lie down."

She obeyed, and he reached forward, tucking the blanket up to her chin.

"No more wandering about in the dark. You might end up finding more than you wanted to."

He grinned, and the moonlight made his teeth glow white against his face. The view was somewhat alarming. Skye wished she could laugh.

"Guess I won't wander then."

"I'll hold you to it." He responded, pausing to pull the blanket up just a little more. "Goodnight."

"Night." She responded, her voice somewhat muffled. He laid down and rolled over, hugging his jacket to himself. It truly was brutally cold, but he was determined not to show it. After a moment or two, however, something soft touched his shoulder. He turned to see the edge of the blanket descending, creating a pile of folds as his arm stopped its downward movement. He felt Skye's hand position it gently over him and reached out to catch her fingertips as they began to retreat.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She didn't try to pull her hand away. Somehow the pressure was comforting, slowly cracking the frozen lump inside of her. He was moving and breathing. His fingertips were just as cold as hers, and yet the two freezing hands were managing to warm each other up. He was alive, even if she wasn't completely sure she was. That in itself was reassuring.

Lucas waited for several moments, then adjusted his position a little, shifting his hold this time to include all of her fingers. He smiled slightly as Skye's own grip tightened in response.

"Sweet dreams."

"Yeah. Sweet dreams."

It was Reilly who discovered them the next morning.

She leaned against the archway that led into the living room, watching the exhausted pair in silence while Guzman made a dull racket in the kitchen, scavenging around like a wild animal for some description of breakfast. The noise didn't seem to be disturbing Lucas and Skye whatsoever. The corner of her mouth twisted sympathetically. They must be half dead from exhaustion. She was almost sorry to wake them. But her sergeant had advised her to get it done quickly. The boys upstairs were already stirring and would be down any minute, and their noise would wake even the dead. It was only by coincidence that Curran had chosen to stay overnight with his animals, or he would have risen with herself and Guzman, as he usually did. Thank goodness for small mercies. She moved forward quietly, her eyes on the two below her. There was no help for it. It was more or less because they were so tired that she had to wake them. If they were discovered by the others like this ..

Reilly smiled to herself. Something told her that neither of the two were in a strong enough mental state just yet to ignore the merciless teasing of Skye's well-meaning brothers-in-arms. She paused and glanced at the ceiling as a low thump from above implied that someone had just been dumped from their bed. Better hurry. She bent and shook Skye's shoulder gently. The girl awoke with surprising swiftness and jolted upright, gripping the side of the couch as though she was about to launch herself from it. When she caught sight of Reilly, however, she seemed to relax a little, and sat blinking around in confusion. Her sudden movement had torn the blanket from Lucas' grasp, and he too sat up, albeit rather more slowly than his predecessor, and squinted up at Reilly blearily.

"Oh. Hi."

"Hi."

She allowed them a few seconds to gather their wits before continuing, but as another series of thumps from upstairs urged her to make haste, she folded her arms, assuming the business-like manner that had become part of her very personality by necessity.

"Right. Go to the kitchen and get yourselves something to eat. Guzman's in there, he'll help you. Everyone else will be down shortly."

Lucas caught the unspoken warning, even if Skye didn't. He nodded and stood, dusting himself off as he gestured to the girl beside him.

"Come on. You barely ate anything last night. You must be starving. If we hurry, we can get the seats by the stove before the others get a chance."

He grinned, the expression held up by an effort as Skye pulled herself to her feet. She still seemed half asleep, but it wasn't weariness causing this. Reilly, for her part, didn't seem to notice Skye's zombie-like manner in the slightest. She picked the blanket up and threw it onto the opposite chair, then turned to address Skye curtly.

"I have to catch Lucas up on something. You go on ahead. He'll be in shortly."

Her tone left no room for argument. With a hesitant glance in Lucas' direction, Skye left to join Guzman in the kitchen. The remaining two heard the cheerful greeting of Reilly's head sergeant as he immediately took the girl into his care. Lucas raised an eyebrow in Reilly's direction.

"Something tells me you don't have another prisoner you want me to pacify."

Reilly smiled a little.

"I don't want you to think I don't understand what's going on - I understand as much as any outside person can."

Lucas nodded slowly, eyeing her.

".. but?"

"But I wanted to give you fair warning. That was your last night under this roof."

She watched him, waiting for some sort of reaction. He gave her none. It was impossible to tell how he had really taken her words. When his silence had extended for several seconds, she forced herself to continue.

"I know it sounds harsh right now, and I don't mean to rub salt in the wound, but .. you have to go home. To your own house. She can't start healing until she gets used to this new form of normal, and frankly, you two are not sleeping on the floor of the common area every night."

"Technically, I was the only one on the floor."

Reilly's mouth twitched.

"Be that as it may-"

"She doesn't want to stay here." Lucas commented, his manner almost conversational. "She wants to go home, to her own house, her own room, sleep in her own bed."

"I understand that .." Reilly said gently. ".. but the truth is, she can't. We made an exception for her while her mother was alive, but technically, the unmarried soldiers all stay here. Those are the rules."

"You can break the rules." Lucas returned. "You've done it before."

"When there was reason to, yes." Reilly admitted, watching him seriously. "But to be honest with you, that time has passed. To let her live there on her own now would not only be inappropriate .. frankly, I don't think it would do her any good either."

Lucas studied her in silence. Reilly stared back for a moment before pressing on.

"It's better for you too, you know. You've been living somewhere between your house and the Infirmary for who knows how long. It's time you get settled back into your own home."

Lucas' gaze dropped to focus on the floor, but then he nodded. Reilly smiled sympathetically. The gesture, as small as it was, must have taken some considerable willpower. Giving in went against his entire nature. That much she understood perfectly. It also went against hers.

"She has a bed upstairs now with her name on it." She offered, trying to soften the blow. "She belongs here with us. I know it seems cruel, but she'll be glad of it one day. You'll see."

She stepped back to allow him passage into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder as the staircase began to shudder.

"Breakfast is waiting for you. You should go eat something. This place will be swarming with hungry stomachs in seconds. If you procrastinate, there may not be any left." She turned back to him with an almost motherly smile. "When you're ready, I believe Malcolm is waiting to see you in the Lab."

Lucas looked up then, eyeing her warily.

"You know, I am older than you."

The smile widened a little.

"I know."

It was nearing 3:00 pm. Malcolm reached the haphazardly constructed fence, leaning on it with some misgiving. Inside the pen stood a large, armored creature, its thick tail culminating in a bulb the size of a small mountain. At its head stood a special kind of idiot - the kind that had taken on the task of attempting to train the beasts.

"How goes it?"

"Dr. Wallace."

Curran turned to meet the man's gaze briefly before returning his attention to the animal at hand. The creature's large eyes were watching his every step. The heavy tail moved fractionally up and down, as though its owner was deep in thought and performing the movement out of habit.

"Meet Roberta."

Malcolm's wince was visible even from the other side of the enclosure.

"Roberta?"

Curran grinned.

"Blame Silas. He named her. We wanted to change it, but once he'd said it, it just kind of .. stuck."

Malcolm snorted.

"Why are we still letting Silas name things, that's what I want to know. Wasn't 'Loretta' bad enough? When I get back, I'm starting a petition: 'All in favour of never allowing Silas Irving to name another living thing.'"

"Won't stop him." The dinosaur trainer countered. "He'll just start naming nonliving things. He already calls his emergency pack George."

"Then I'll make a petition for that too." Malcolm retorted, undaunted. Curran laughed.

"In that case, add my name to the top of the list."

"Consider it done." The head researcher said graciously, his mood softening with his next question. "Hey .. how is he doing anyway - Silas, that is?"

Curran's face darkened.

"To all outward appearances, he's fine. Exactly the same as he's always been. Seems like he never cared about his sister in the slightest."

"But you know him better .." Malcolm ventured.

"I know he's hurting more than he wants to admit." Curran murmured, stroking Roberta's wide face gently. He contemplated mentioning that he had heard the boy's soft crying at night on occasion - probably most of the dormitory had been aware of it, but so far, no one had said a word. Somehow it felt like betraying Silas to bring it up now. He resisted the buffeting of the animal's head against his chest, looking back at Malcolm with a shrug. "He's also prouder than most people realize."

Malcolm nodded and returned his gaze to the fence nearby, gesturing quietly in that direction.

"And who's your other friend?"

The trainer glanced over his shoulder in surprise, then smiled as he glimpsed the large red Ovosaur watching him through the bedraggled woodwork.

"Oh." He backed up a few feet, eyeing the Anklosaur warily as she tensed her muscles. "That's Roland. He's a regular in the yards, comes and goes as he likes. No one's been able to catch him yet .. not that anyone's tried that hard. Ever since Brady .."

He trailed off, shrugging again.

"Sometimes when I'm working with Inky, he'll get closer, but Inky's gone home for a while, so he's back to distancing himself. Just likes to keep an eye on what's going on around here, I think."

He raised his hands in warning as the Ankylosaur lifted her tail slowly.

"Hey, that's enough .. easy .."

The tail went down again. Curran tossed another look at Malcolm.

"So what brings you out to our little neighborhood anyway?"

The chief science officer carelessly flicked an insect off his arm.

"Just wanted to see my research in action. Any progress?"

"You can come try it out for yourself if you want."

"I'd rather see it demonstrated from this side of the fence." Malcolm returned graciously. "Rickety as it may be, I don't fancy being beheaded by that monster."

"You'd rather see me beheaded?"

The other man's expression grew ambivalent.

"Quite frankly, one of these days, it's going to happen, with or without my help, so I might as well keep my own neck out of the line of fire in the meantime."

Curran grinned.

"Easier to make accurate observations from a distance anyway, right?"

"Exactly!" Malcolm seized upon the excuse with pleasure. "See, this is why I put up with you army people. You might seem like nothing but brute force and gunpowder with bricks for brains, but every now and then, you actually say something intelligent."

"Sometimes I even surprise myself." Curran responded solemnly, putting another couple of steps between himself and the Ankylosaur. Her brown eyes remained locked on him cautiously. Malcolm watched her with some nervousness.

"So what can she do then?"

"I'll show you."

Curran walked slowly to the side, reaching out to grasp a rope which hung down from a solid tree branch suspended over the fence. He pulled the rope with some effort, his muscles straining as the sandbag on the other end was hauled into the air. Malcolm watched with interest as the soldier tied it off, leaving the bag to swing slightly in the breeze. The Ankylosaur moved then, creeping closer and reaching out her nose to sniff at the bag. Curran retreated several meters, casting a quick glance at the intrigued researcher nearby.

"Now watch."

He raised his wrist to his face, putting his lips over the whistle built into his leather cuff. The movement drew the animal's attention back to him, and she waited, tensing, as though she knew what was coming. Curran met her gaze for a few seconds and then took a quick breath, sending three shrill notes streaming out into the air between them. The Ankylosaur responded so suddenly that Malcolm froze in surprise, barely registering the swing of the tail before a cloud of sand erupted into the air, so thick that it briefly concealed the creature entirely. The ruptured sandbag now hung limply by its neck, swaying back and forth as sand continued to dribble out from within it. Roberta's eyes followed the movement for a few seconds, then she turned back to the trainer, studying him with such a docile curiosity that she might as well have been a giant cow. As Malcolm gaped, Curran retrieved a couple of apples and gave them to her, turning back to the other man as the Ankylosaur munched happily.

"See?" He grinned. "Few more of those and we'll give those Phoenix guys something to remember."

Malcolm simply nodded in response.

1:00 am. That's what the clock on his bedside table said. Midnight had come and gone and still sleep eluded him. Lucas stared at the white sheets on the ceiling. It was his first night in his own room after what had seemed like an eternal sleepover at the Infirmary. Was it supposed to feel this wrong?

He glanced over at the clock again, his fingers playing mindlessly in the blanket. The blanket. Deborah had given it to him long ago. It had been a present, the first show of kindness he'd received after being dragged back to this wretched place. He paused in confusion for a moment, his old memories intermingling with his new ones. He didn't feel that way now, of course. The wretched place had become his home. In a way, the blanket had become a symbol of the fact. And yet ..

He looked down at it, untangling his fingers from its folds with something akin to horror. Within the space of a heartbeat, it had turned into an enemy. Suddenly he couldn't bear to feel it against his skin any longer. As quickly as possible, he rolled it up and threw it to the end of his bed. But even that wasn't far enough. He jumped as his foot brushed against it. Grabbing it as he leapt up, he stormed into his living room, casting it roughly against the opposite couch. He missed altogether. The blanket hit the wall and fell with a soft thud, unraveling itself from its misshapen ball as it reached toward him across the floor. Lucas turned his back on it and returned to the bedroom, closing the door angrily behind him. The resulting slam echoed down the street.

"We're out of options here! You said you'd do whatever you could to help us!"

"I will! Just not .. that .."

"Then what are you even doing here?!" Jim burst out in frustration. "Either you'll help us or you won't. End of story."

"It's not that simple!" Harlon protested. "He'd never agree to see me! We wouldn't even get through the door."

"You're exaggerating-"

"No, I'm not!" The former Sixer argued from his position on the floor. The two men stood above him like giant sentries. "My father is never going to forgive me for what I did. I stole from him and then abandoned him completely. Pretty sure no one could forget that."

Taylor, appearing particularly strange from this odd angle, smiled down at him.

"Ah, you'd be surprised what a father can forgive."

"There are also things that a father can't forgive." Harlon persisted stubbornly. "I'm sure you two of all people can understand that."

"Maybe. Only one way you're gonna find out. Try it and see." The former commander's eyes twinkled. "Unless you're too chicken."

"Speaking of which, it's still your turn." Lucy cut in, eyeing her opponent impatiently from his right side. "Holographic planes don't fly themselves, you know."

Harlon turned back to her with a slightly guilty laugh.

"Sorry. Although, to be fair, I'm not sure why you refuse to give up. You still haven't beaten me yet."

Lucy's face darkened.

"There's still time." She shoved the control box into his hands roughly and turned back to the projection with a growl. "Fly."

Harlon exchanged a grin with Zayne as he began the game again. The girl's average flight time was miles behind the Sixer's, who had turned out to be oddly gifted at the activity. This was probably due to the hours he had spent perfecting his technique in his own teenage years - a fact he had thus far chosen to keep to himself. The increasingly thunderous look on Lucy's face with every consecutive win was well worth the cost of omission. This time, however, he seemed to be enjoying the game far less than normal. He barely smiled as he soared across the finish line, having beaten the record for the third round in a row.

"Alright." He finally muttered, as he allowed the furious girl to relieve him of the controller. "I'll try it."

He turned to see the raised eyebrows of the two men staring down at him. Jim and Taylor, their arms folded in the exact same manner, waited for him to elaborate. Harlon looked from one to the other, meeting each pair of stern eyes in turn.

"I still don't think it'll do any good, but .. you're right. I did promise to try and make up for what I did, and if that means facing him again .. I'll do it."

He pulled himself up a little straighter, steeling himself against the flood of panic infecting his stomach.

"I'll go and see my dad."

The declaration alone almost made him sick, but as he heard Taylor's cheer and felt the solid whack of Jim's hand against his shoulder, he found himself smiling despite the fact. He was further distracted from the twisting sensation in his abdomen by another howl from the girl beside him. Amidst Zayne's shout of laughter, Harlon threw himself to the right and dove for the control box, forgetting about his worries as he rescued the device from its imminent collision with the shiny white floor.

She woke up from the dream in a cold sweat. Had the train stopped? Light was streaming in from the window. The dormitory seemed deserted. What time was it? Skye slumped back against her pillow, her dream tears drying on her face. The uneven wooden planks of the top bunk hovered in the air above her. No one else was here. She should get up. But what was the point .. ?

She was still lying there when Reilly came to check on her some time later. The acting commander, relieved to find that the girl was finally awake, began to speak to her cheerfully, only to fade away mid-sentence. Something was wrong. Skye appeared to be conscious, though her face was turned in the direction of the window, but something about the girl's expression sent a chill through Reilly's blood. She wasn't listening. Perhaps she couldn't even hear her. Skye's mind appeared to be far away, unable to be reached by words or voices. Shaking off the irrational fears that had begun swirling around her own mind, Reilly stepped forward, continuing to chat in an almost idiotic manner about breakfast, about the weather, attempting to draw the girl back to the present. Nothing seemed to reach her.

She should have seen this coming. Reilly, receiving no reply from Skye, turned instead to berating herself. Over the last few days, Skye had grown almost catatonic. She had barely eaten, barely slept, she participated half-heartedly in jobs, spoke as little as possible to anyone, and had seemed to avoid looking people in the eye. When she had expressed a desire to go home and Reilly had objected, she hadn't even argued, had simply accepted the acting commander's word and continued on as though it didn't matter. It wasn't at all like her. Years ago, during the sincyllic fever outbreak that had killed Skye's father, Reilly herself had been around. She had known the young girl a little, though admittedly not well, but even then, Skye had never withdrawn like this. She had been sad, of course, but she had bounced back quickly. Now, Reilly realized with a sinking feeling, it was because of the necessity of looking after her other parent that Skye had kept on with such stubbornness. She had overcome her grief because she was needed by her mother so badly. Who needed her now?

With a last glance at Skye, Reilly left the room. When she returned some time later, she was speaking to someone quietly in the doorway. She stepped aside to allow him entry.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't want to send for you, but she just won't respond to anyone. It's like she's lost in there. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's alright."

Lucas placed a hand on the commander's shoulder as he passed her, entering the room. He crossed the floor to where Skye lay, hesitating for a moment before cautiously sitting down beside her on the bed. Reilly stood a foot or so from him, hovering anxiously as she watched him begin his own attempts to draw the girl out.

"Skye."

No response. Lucas followed her gaze to the window for a moment before turning back to her.

"Bucket, it's me." He brushed her tangled hair away from her face lightly. It was still damp from the tears of her sleep, though her eyes were clear now. "Are you okay?"

Once again, only silence greeted him. He exchanged a glance with Reilly, then turned back to Skye and tried again, clumsily rubbing her shoulder.

".. Skye?"

This time, Skye shuddered a little, her eyes still wide and confused as she stared out the window, though they appeared to be focusing somewhat. Lucas froze, listening intently as she tried to speak, her lips moving silently for a moment before any sound found its way out.

"She's .. gone." She managed to say, in a small, choking sort of voice. "She's gone forever. Nothing's okay. Nothing will ever be .. okay."

"I know." He glanced up at Reilly again. The commander looked as though she was blinking back tears of her own. He turned back to the girl in the bed. "But you can't stay trapped in this room forever, Skye. You can't."

Skye pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as though she was trying to block the whole world from existence.

"I can't keep going without her."

"You have to. We're still in the middle of a war. The colony needs you to fight." He hesitated before sternly delivering the final blow. "The world hasn't stopped just because your mother died."

At this, she turned to look at him, shaking with anger, her jaw clenched. Lucas stared back at her challengingly. This was the most life she had shown since Deborah had died. She would probably hate him from this moment onward, but he deemed the risk an acceptable one.

"Bucket, please sit up." This wasn't a request. Reilly watched from the side with relief as Skye pulled herself up reluctantly, still staring daggers at him. She was white and angry, but she looked far less corpse-like than she had in days.

"How dare you? I thought .." Her face crumpled a little, but she pulled it back together stubbornly. "I thought you loved her too."

"I did." Lucas paused and looked away, seeming to stare at nothing for a few moments, until Reilly feared she might lose him next. He sat, fighting with himself, all the while willing himself to go on. She needed him to go on. He closed his eyes tightly and then looked back at Skye. She was still watching him closely, but most of the fury seemed to have dissipated from her face. Lucas went on, suddenly sounding very tired.

"And life will never be the same without her." His voice caught, but he half-angrily overrode the tightening in his throat and continued. "But there is still a war going on. And people out there need you."

Skye stared at him for a moment, then turned away again, pressing the palm of her hand back against her forehead forcefully.

"I want to go home. Let me go home."

Reilly seemed to recognize her cue. She stepped forward and knelt beside the bed, drawing the girl's eyes to herself.

"Your home is here now, Skye. People here need you too."

Skye slowly lowered her hand, looking from one to the other in distress.

"I have no one now. I'm completely alone. Do you know what that feels like?"

Lucas eyed her, his voice growing quieter.

"You know I do."

Skye's face took on a strangely cold expression as she turned her attention back to him.

"No, you don't. You still have a parent."

Lucas smiled in a pained sort of way and shrugged a little, seeming to give up. Reilly watched him helplessly for a moment and then took over.

"Have you ever met my parents? Have you ever heard of them? I left them behind in the future. My mother was weak, my father was getting old. For all I know, they could be dead." She paused as Skye's eyes dropped guiltily. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to remind you that you're not alone. Even if it feels that way."

Skye's gaze shifted, moving to her own hand as Lucas reached for it and held it tightly.

"You couldn't be alone if you wanted to be."

For a few moments, it seemed as though she had frozen. Then, with a small sob, she turned back to Reilly, her eyes suddenly overflowing with tears.

"I miss her .."

"I know."

".. but .." Skye continued, looking almost confused. ".. somehow, I think I was expecting it .."

She shook her head, trying to wipe away the tears with her hand, except new ones kept taking their place faster than she could reach them.

"She was better. I had her back with me, but .. deep down, I think I knew it was only temporary. It just hurts-"

She cut herself off with a little choke. Reilly moved forward then, throwing her arms around the girl and holding her tight. Skye clung to her commanding officer with one arm as she gripped Lucas' hand with the other. Finally, when the sobs died down, she pulled away, sniffing and red-eyed, but considerably more human than she had been.

".. thanks."

Reilly smiled and nodded in response, apparently oblivious to the large wet patch on her shirt.

"Can you come downstairs and try to eat something?"

Skye hesitated, then offered a faint nod. Reilly caught it and stood, squeezing the girl's shoulder affectionately.

"Good. Wash your face. It'll make you feel better. I'll go get something ready for you."

With a unreadable glance at Lucas - a glance he understood the meaning of quite well - she left the room. When she was gone, he stood carefully and stretched his back, casting a look down at Skye.

"You should be congratulating me, you know."

She stared up blankly.

"Why?"

He grinned, patting the side of the top bunk with the back of his hand.

"The amount of times I almost hit my head on this thing, I'm lucky I didn't end up with a concussion. It's a hazard."

Skye actually managed to give him a watery grin.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you. Now you heard the lady. Let's go get you something to eat." Lucas reached out and gripped her arm, pulling her up and out of bed. He had to hold onto her a little longer than expected. Skye was rather wobbly on her feet. When she had regained her balance, he eyed her severely. "The sooner the better, by the look of you."

She glanced down at herself, looking back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You mind getting out so I can get cleaned up first?"

Lucas shrugged.

"If you insist."

She laughed a little and pushed him toward the door.

"Get out."

As he reached the threshold, however, Skye's voice halted him again.

"I .. I .."

He frowned as he watched her. She looked bewildered, as though she was fighting some internal battle with herself. He stepped closer again.

"What? What is it?"

Skye slumped back down onto the bed, allowing her shaky legs to hang off the edge limply.

"I .. I hate myself .."

Lucas' frown deepened.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't deserve her."

He folded his arms, leaning tiredly against the leg of the bunk.

"Skye .."

"I don't have to be afraid anymore. Because the worst has finally happened." Skye's voice was dark and distorted as she gripped the edge of the mattress, avoiding his eyes. "And there's a part of me that's glad of it."

A chill ran down Lucas' spine as he surveyed the bedraggled girl, her red-stained stare still focused stubbornly on the foot of the dresser nearby. He tried to calm his own pounding heartbeat so he could think.

"What .. what do you mean .."

"Because now .. I'm free."

The slight smile that touched her face only served to alarm him further.

"I no longer have to get out of bed in the middle of the night and creep to her room and stand in her doorway, too terrified to breathe until I see her start." Her voice was steadier now, calmer. "Now I wake up in the middle of the night .. and I remember she's gone .. and I go back to sleep. And it's .. easier."

She choked, suddenly looking as though she might throw up.

"My life is easier now that my mother's dead! How horrible is that?!"

Lucas sighed a little, feeling somewhat reassured now, though still unsure why.

"I'm no expert, but I hear it's normal."

"It shouldn't be."

"She was sick for a long time." He argued quietly. "I think you can be forgiven for being a little relieved."

"It's not that .." Skye stared up at him in agony, her cheeks glistening with tears. ".. I mean, of course I'm glad she doesn't have to hurt anymore. I'm glad she finally gets to rest .. but .. I'm glad .. for me.."

The last part of her little speech had dissolved into a whisper. When Lucas remained silent, she stared at him vehemently.

"What if I didn't leave because I was trying to save her? What if I was just running away from her?" She swiped at a tear and shook her head. "You wanted to go. I could've let you. Why didn't I?"

Lucas didn't have an answer for this, so he simply shrugged a little. Skye's eyes narrowed coldly.

"What if I only pretended it had to be me because I couldn't bear to stay? I aban .." She suddenly sucked in a horrified breath. "I abandoned her. She needed me, and in the last days of her life, I ran away because I couldn't bear to see her anymore."

Lucas stepped forward quickly as she swayed a little.

"She needed me .." Skye sounded like she was struggling to breathe now. Her eyes were wide and frightened. "At the end, when she needed me the most, I wasn't there."

A look of horror crossed her face, so acute that it looked as though she might be sick on the spot.

"I deserted her. I wasn't there to .. to let her know she wasn't alone. I failed her. In the last days of her life, her only daughter .. I wasn't there, I should've been with her. I wasted the little time I had left. I couldn't .. I couldn't .."

She was nearly hyperventilating now. Lucas gripped her shoulder almost roughly.

"Hey, calm down. You were trying to save her. If she'd known, she would've been .." His own voice crackled as an army of tears threatened to push past his last line of defense. He resisted the urge to slap himself. "You never gave up on her, not even at the end. You loved her enough to spend your last moments trying to save her. No mother could ask for more than that."

As she remained silent, he reached down and brushed a tear away from her cheek.

"Skye. Listen, alright? You're not a monster for wanting the pain to go away. Trust me. I know a monster when I see one. You're not it."

She shook her head in exhaustion.

"I'm so confused."

"You'll be okay." He murmured, patting her hair absently. "I need you to be. Is that selfish?"

"I don't .. think so."

"Well, try then, if not for yourself than for my sake."

"Alright." She smiled a little as she looked up at him. "I'll try."

"Good. One step at a time."

She took a deep breath, then let it out shakily, still clinging to the mattress with both fists. She couldn't seem to gather the strength to stand no matter how hard she might have wanted to. She cleared her throat in frustration, pushing back a new onslaught of tears with some considerable effort.

"Just .. give me a minute."

He rested his hand on her head, ruffling her hair a little as he leaned his own forehead wearily against the wooden railing of the top bunk.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."