Author's Note -

I'd like to thanks those that have read these couple of chapters, you're quiet but I know you're out there. Anyway, I am continuing on with pushing these chapters out, as I have already written to chapter sixteen and hoping that I can keep my proof reader readily motivated and Game of Thrones doesn't get in the way. Enjoy.

Chapter Three - Losing Control

Within minutes the Polyps broke the surface of the ocean and started skating rapidly across the water towards the harbour. Wilks took his stance, feet firmly planted Lancer in hand. He had to keep the Polyps away from the village, they couldn't suffer another mass loss after the previous night. At least this time he was ready for them.

He started firing whilst they were close together in the hope that one explosion might trigger the others off. After a couple of successful hits the Polyps had learnt to dodge and scatter quickly, their spindly legs swiping easily back and forth across the water. They were approaching him faster than he was able to keep back.

A second volley of gunfire nearby sent the Polyps off course momentarily, enough for Wilks to glance back at Burn. Behind him he had gathered a group of men assembling themselves with their weapons.

"Your female Gear alerted us, she told us you could do with as much help as possible, rightly so,"

"Thank you," he called back, mentally praising Aidie's initiative.

One of Burn's men rushed towards the Polyps with his own handmade sawn-off shotgun, he charged headfirst as he fired a round at the glowing creatures. They exploded around him throwing him to the ground at the force of their explosion. Before he could scramble to his feet more Polyps crawled over him, dragging him deeper into the mass of writhing glowing bodies. They watched in horror as the Polyps ripped him apart, sucking at the flesh and blood of their first meal.

"Shit!" Burn screamed out.

A shout came behind them and they turned to reveal Miles swinging a makeshift grenade on its chain. He had lit an Imulsion soaked strip of cloth and had wrapped it round the grenade. It glided overhead and landed amidst the Polyps, the flame igniting the surrounding mass of Polyps as they exploded with the grenade blast.

As if this was a trigger another pod from a Stalk to the left of them suddenly burst open, freeing a horde of wriggling Imulsion soaked Polyps. Screeching and scrabbling for freedom.

"Keep your distance," Wilks called to his assembled squad, "they explode."

"Suits me down to the ground!" Miles had lined a whole row of grenades, he fixed them up with a strip of cloth soaked in a bucket of Imulsion. He ripped the cloth into strips and tied each one around the grenade chain. He rushed over passing each person one of his grenades lighting the strip as he went.

Wilks threw the grenade into the oncoming collection of Polyps and watched as they burst into flames. He glanced back at Miles and gave him an approving nod.

"It's a prototype, I'm working to assemble it to an Imulsion can next,"

"Keep doing what you do Miles,"

Tate had joined them, Lancer in hand as he flanked to the left to take on the next group of Polyps. He picked off one or two but they were descending upon him at an alarming rate. Burn's men were helping him out, driving the Polyps into a tighter group as one of them threw another of Miles' flaming grenades at them.

Cam and Aidie arrived with two Scorchers taken from Burn's weapon cache. They split either side of the group of the Polyps and started burning them at the edges, forcing them to funnel towards Wilks' waiting shots. One of the creatures broke free and leapt at Wilks, he jumped backwards to lift his Lancer up and rev the chainsaw, searing through the Polyp just as it burst open with Imulsion all over him.

Miles approached with another flaming grenade just as Aidie shouted out to him, one arm held out to stop him.

"Keep away from Wilks!"

"Why?" Miles stepped backwards hesitantly.

"He's flammable," she explained, "Covered in Imulsion. So keep your distance."

Miles skirted around their Sergeant as he continued firing at the never ending flood of Polyps. He swung his homemade grenade into them and watched as a mass of flaming writhing creatures charged towards them. Aidie pulled out her Gorgon and fired at them to help finish them off.

Wilks was too busy firing to realise that the Polyps had gone on a flaming charge towards him. Burn and Archer started shooting before they could take Wilks down. He moved backwards as they stepped in, just in time for Aidie to grab hold of him and shove him in the direction of the harbour.

"Hey!" he retorted.

"I am not having you as a human torch," she ordered, dragging him backwards by his weapon sling.

"We need to keep the Polyps away from the houses," he shouted his orders to the others.

"And they're doing a great job, now we work on you," she had reached the harbour wall, "In the water, now."

"Wait wait wait!" he dug his heels in.

"Wilks damnit!" she circled round him to face him, her face streaked with a smoky residue, "those Polyps will kill you if they charge at you when they are alight."

"Water won't wash the Imulsion off Aide,"

"No but it'll bloody help," she took hold of his Lancer and pointed to the water.

Reluctantly he obeyed, jumping off the wall into the water. She watched as the oily residue shifted slightly off him, floating ominously on the surface.

"Happy?" he asked ready to wade his way back to dry land.

"Nope, you need to go under, you're still covered,"

"Damnit Aidie, I'm in full armour here!"

"Wilks the Imulsion moved remember, I am not risking it going to town on you,"

A shudder etched its way up his back as he was eerily reminded of the nightmare. He wasted no time submerging himself completely in the water. He remained in the depths for longer than he was comfortable with to ensure that the Imulsion was no longer soaking into him. He came to the surface in time to see Aidie take down two flaming Polyps with her Gorgon. It had originally been his but she had taken to it a lot easier than the Boltok and he didn't have the heart to claim it back. She took cover just as the creatures exploded. He waded his way back and hoisted himself onto the harbour wall, water weighing his armour and clothes down. He could see the Imulsion ripple on the surface.

"Happy now?" he called to her as he picked up his Lancer.

"Much," she responded as she turned the Scorcher on another group of Polyps skittering towards them, "at least I can go near you with this without the risk of setting fire to you."

He fired at the Polyps taking each one down before they could advance closer. Every step he took his boots made a squelching sound and water seeped its way over the rim.

"Oh that's just perfect. There is nothing worse than wet feet," he then called over to her, "if this is about the bucket incident, Aide, next time I'm throwing you in the frigging sea."

"You try and I'll hurt you so bad you'll be adopting all your children from Tate,"

"Hey I heard that!" Tate shouted nearby, he had moved closer as the Polyps had drifted across towards them.

Wilks unbuckled the straps on his boots and pulled his socks off, scowling at them as he chucked his boots to one side. He hated being barefoot, it was something he was unused to as the soles of his feet had rarely touched the ground without heavy COG issue boots underneath.

He was too busy grumbling about his feet that he missed the Polyp that charged towards him.

"Watch out!" Aidie called, blasting the Polyp just before it reached him, bursting Imulsion over him.

"Oh you have to be fucking kidding me!" He shouted in frustration.

"In!" She ordered pointing blindly to the water as she concentrated on the Polyps.

"I hate you sometimes," he cursed as he leapt back into the sea.

By the time all the Polyps had been mown down daylight had broken and the civilians were venturing out of their shanty houses to assess the aftermath of the battle.

Wilks had stepped back from duty so he could get himself a much needed warm shower, one that preferably didn't leave his skin with a salty residue. He counted himself lucky that Burn had the foresight to store rainwater and treat it to make it drinkable for his community. The showers had been installed with a solar heating system that granted them the luxury of a washing in warm water whenever they needed.

His palms pressed up against the cracked tiled walls, letting the water batter against his uplifted face, his dark hair plastering against his head.

"Sarge?" a voice came from outside the cubicle.

"I swear to the Allfathers Tate, if the next words out of your mouth is another Pod has opened, someone is going to regret being the messenger very quickly,"

"Uh... no," Tate responded hesitantly, he and Wilks had grown up together through their youth training camps so he knew how to tread carefully round him when he was at his most volatile.

Wilks reluctantly twisted the taps off and grabbed the towel he had hung over the cubicle door. He rubbed the excess water off before wrapping the towel round his waist.

"Come on then Tate, spill, you know you want to," he said as he swung the wobbly cubicle door open.

He took in his friend and comrade, standing patiently in the changing room protectively holding a baby in his arms. It didn't seem so long ago that he and Tate had gotten so blindingly drunk on moonshine that neither were able to perform their duties the following day. Wilks' father was so angry that he'd beaten them and they had to hide the bruises for days afterwards. Now that foolish accident prone kid was a father, not to one but to four young children. A tiny wave of jealousy hit him in his heart. He seriously doubted he would ever experience parenthood himself.

"Olly I'd like you to meet my son, Aidan," Tate announced with pride.

"You have to be kidding me. Tate, please tell me you didn't seriously name your son Aidan."

Tate fixed him with a look of shock before smirking back at him, "you seriously think I'm that stupid? The one child I get to name and it's the person Sofie hates the most."

"I was having my doubts," Wilks turned away to pull on a clean dry t-shirt over his head, thrusting his arms through the holes and rolling the fabric over his chest and down his stomach. The remnant of dampness made the fabric stick to him more than usual.

"She would have killed me before I'd even have the chance to lay my eyes on my child," It was Tate's turn to avert his eyes as Wilks pulled on a pair of boxers, letting the towel drop around his feet. He then took hold of his trousers and heaved them over his legs.

"So does the child have a name that is remotely human?" He rubbed a hand through his hair to shake off the excess water from the strands.

"He does, we have decided to call him Tyrus," Tate finally offered the baby to Wilks, "Tyrus meet your Uncle Olly."

"So you named him after a Country, kudos on the originality there, it's not like half these other kids aren't already called Jacinto or Pelles,"

"I dunno, I thought Tyrus was a strong male name, plus if he ever asks us about it when he's older we can explain it further to him."

Wilks took the child gently in his arms as the baby gazed blankly back at him.

"And to think this could have been you," Tate commented innocently, watching his child.

"I'm not sure if I want to know the meaning behind that Tate, remember carefully I am holding the life of your newborn offspring in my rather tired arms," Wilks sent him a warning.

"I just mean Sofie," Tate added nonchalantly, oblivious to the hurt he was causing, "if it wasn't for that Wretch we both know that she would have picked you instead of me and you would be the one standing where I am right now. Rather than..."

"Rather than what Tate? I dare you to continue," Wilks' words came out sharp enough to make the baby open his eyes in shock, "let me finish for you. Rather than the position I am in now, sharing a bed with the one woman I am totally crazy about but can't show how I really feel. Is that what you wanted to say?"

Tate stared silently back at him, his eyes flicking from his son to Wilks, "We could share Sofie, if you wanted a family so badly. I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving you a son."

"Don't make me punch you Tate," He handed the child back to him and folded his towel over his arms.

"There's something else," Tate continued following Wilks out of the room and down a long corridor till they were out in the open. Overlooking the Stranded Village from a slight incline.

"Careful how you step Tate, you're already on thin ice,"

"It's Sofie," Tate began, "We've been talking and now that we have little Tyrus to think about we need to consider the future."

"You'll be the only one," Wilks sniped sharply.

"She thinks it would be cruel if the children grew up not knowing their father. She thinks I have spent too much of my life thinking about war when we should be protecting our offspring. She's asked me to hand in my tags and renounce my status as a COG soldier so I can concentrate being a father."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"We all know that the COG are basically over anyway, we are working here on no one else's orders except yours. It's about time I think about my family."

"You have to be kidding me,"

"I nearly died the last time I was in combat and it was shake up for both of us,"

"Tate, you were shot in the fucking thigh over two years ago,"

"But I nearly died,"

Wilks balled his fists, his world was starting to collapse around him.

"You think it was easy for me to carry on after the Wretch ripped me apart Tate, after my father blew his brains out. I nearly threw it away, if I hadn't taken that Raven to that Compound I was a step away from walking out. But then I was given a reason to keep going."

"Oh give it a break Olly," Tate snapped uncharacteristically back, "every time it's always the Wretch with you. Oh boohoo, so the Locust took away your rugged good looks, so the women stopped looking at you except to point and sneer. Get over yourself. Fucking hero."

Wilks saw red. But Tate continued, for the first time lashing out at the one person he was usually able to confide in.

"Do you use the Wretch as an excuse when you can't get it up for Aidan as well. Is that why you're so frustrated these days. Aren't you getting sick of hiding behind that fucking Wretch? Can't you just be a man and take her like you would have done before that Wretch took your balls."

Tate had gone past the point of no return he had touched a nerve so raw that Wilks shook with anger. He took a couple of steps backwards and stopped a passing civilian, placing a hand on her arm.

"Can you just hold this a second," he said as he plucked the baby from Tate's arms and handed him over to the woman who looked back at him curiously.

He then took two steps forward, swung his arm back and right hooked Tate hard in the face, a cracking sound came from Tate's nose as he yowled in response. The civilian screamed stepping backwards protectively holding the child. Blood seeped out of Tate's nose as he lunged back at him, Wilks ducked out of the way as he ploughed towards him. A fist caught Wilks in the side sending a crippling spasm through his kidneys. He let out a cry and dropped to his knee to protect his body. He looked up at Tate who stared angrily back at him, he spat out blood and charged at him whilst he was at his most vulnerable. Wilks lowered his head and gripped Tate round his waist flipping him over and slamming him onto his back.

"Stop it! Stop it!" the woman screamed.

They had scuffled before, many years ago but it had never truly meant anything other than juvenile rough housing. But as Tate scrammed Wilks down the side of the face where his own existing scars lay, nothing but intended hatred and pain seemed to pass between them. Wilks leapt back clutching the side of his face. Tate jumped at him, pummelling him to the ground and punching him repetitively in the face. Wilks caught his fist mid punch and twisted his arm till Tate was screeching back at him. Wilks had always been the more sturdier built of the two, his muscles were toned and harder whilst Tate's had softened by his embraced parenthood. Wilks could easily have wrapped his hands around Tate's neck and finished the job, but this was about pain, no one was about to have their suffering end any time soon.

"If you think you can protect your family from the monsters like this then you're weaker than I ever gave you credit," Wilks hissed at him, roughly releasing Tate's arm.

"Just because you were too much a of coward to do it yourself," Tate panted as he leapt away from him, "You're too much like your old man, I never realised. A bully and a dumb minded brute."

"You think walking away will solve your problems Tate, you think Sofie hasn't already worked out how to twist you round her finger. Your children don't even look like you,"

"You bastard," Tate screamed at him now, "you fucking bastard! It's over. You, me, we're done. I asked you as a courtesy. You have no fucking say in this Ollyvar. I'm not having you walking me willingly into a mass of flaming monsters when I could be happy with my family."

"You think this war is fucking over? You think if you quit the monsters go away? Get over yourself Tate. Because guess what, when we lose this war, and we are losing, those creatures will be knocking on your precious door next. When that happens I won't be there to protect you,"

"Go to hell Ollyvar. It's over," Tate howled as he reclaimed his screaming child from the woman and stormed away from him.

Aidie had been busy scrubbing down Wilks' armour, eliminating the remnant of greasy substance from the plates. She propped and draped the parts across the washing lines outside their shack in hope of catching the sun to dry it out. She had felt guilty for Wilks' impromptu salt water baths which had done nothing for his simmering temper. But she had seen too much freaky moving Imulsion to allow him to keep soaked in the stuff, especially when the flaming Polyps had started charging towards him.

She had taken over once the Polyps had been vanquished and Wilks had stormed away, passing the information she had gathered to Cam and Miles. She had reluctantly debriefed Burn of the situation and requested that the squad be granted some down time.

Crates clattered to the ground nearby, followed by cursing. She cautiously turned to see Wilks stalking fiercely towards her. She knew enough of his temperament to know when to keep her distance from him. There was a fire in his dark eyes and a storm was brewing deep inside. For a split second he gave her a look that made her feel uneasy. Then he glanced back at her with an expression of defeat, his face was bleeding from fresh scratches and bruises were starting to develop. She took a worried step forward.

"Wilks?" she cautiously met him, her fingers dancing over his wounds, "Are you okay?"

Firm hands drew them away as he shook his head before fixing her with an intense look.

"I'm fed up of pretending Aidan."

He placed a strong yet gentle hand on her cheek as she looked back confused at him. He drew her to him and kissed her. She hesitantly held back, unsure as to what was happening. His grip tightened around her as she felt her resistance falter and his kisses grew fiercer. He backed her into their room and he started to peal her vest over her head.

"Olly, we shouldn't…" she breathed uncertainly into him.

"I don't care," he growled huskily as he shut the door behind them and pushed her roughly to the bed.