Author's Note - Well we're down to the last three chapters. And I have them all ready for your reading pleasure. I will be releasing them on a weekly basis just to ration the heartbreak for you. In the meanwhile please feel free to follow my twitter account that I've salvaged from the doldrums (the link can be found on my profile). It now has my crazy rants and stress filled writing and provides you with a glimpse of the commissions that are being artistically constructed by MyFantasiWorld. That's right pictures!

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, now things are getting serious.

Chapter Twenty-Three – Someone to Watch Over You

Wilks could feel himself falter. For every blow he threw against each creature that dared to stop him he could feel his body edge closer to the brink. He held back the rage inside as it begged to tear out of him, to pour his aggression into something so much stronger. He wanted to smash them to pieces until they were nothing more than a mulch of blood and bone. But he couldn't risk letting the demon out for fear of it never returning.

For every step he took to the edge, Miles brought him back. His voice a distant reminder to hold onto the humanity inside. The sound of his Snub blasting out at each Polyp that charged at them, keeping them back before they threatened to approach. They worked together, clearing the streets as they went, steadily making their way to the harbour. Wilks drew to a halt, dropping his exhausted body behind cover as Miles planted himself heavily beside him.

"Of all times to have a broken arm," he grumbled, tugging at the restraints that prevented him from going full out crazy.

"It's probably a good thing," Wilks observed, "It's bad enough having one of us on the verge, we don't need both."

"Cam would be so pissed,"

Wilks half chuckled to himself as he drew the Lancer's magazine out and counted the bullets, digging through his pouch for the remaining few and slotting them in place, then clicking the weapon firmly together. He peered over cover to assess their next move.

"The harbour's to the left. I suggest we split up, evaluate the situation then flank,"

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Miles commented, slotting his Snub into the crook of his broken arm so he could attempt to reload, "what we're going to do is stick together, so you don't end up going all Glowie on me."

"Since when did you outrank me?" Wilks gave him a look.

"When your alter ego became a Former, I am certainly not double teaming with that kind of monstrosity,"

"Would keep you on your toes,"

"How the hell you're making light of the situation I'll never know,"

"That's the thing Miles," Wilks somberly responded as he levered himself out of cover, "I'm not. It's the fear that's talking."

He caught sight of a Former lumbering towards them, charging forward as he revved his chainsaw and sliced at it until all that remained was a splattered mess of Imulsion and ash. As Miles drew level with him, poking at the remnants in the dirt, Wilks spat blood to the ground.

"I'm not going down like that. I will be fighting against this until my last breath,"

"Never thought you were capable of anything else," Miles indicated to where a stalk had erupted and with it another surge of Polyps, "we'll probably all go down fighting at this rate."

"Either that or devoured by monsters, not a pretty sight either way," Wilks checked their position, close enough to the entrance to the harbour, but there were too many Polyps for them to handle alone, "you have any more of those flaming grenades on you?"

"How much more of this village do you want to set alight Ol?" The tone of Miles' voice laced with concern, the humour he had so often used in times of a crisis now wearing thin.

"I'm down to my last clip, what's your suggestion?"

They backed slowly away, in the hope they would slip the notice of the advancing Lambent, but luck it seemed wasn't on their side. Wilks turned to Miles, a sudden decisive air about him.

"I am willing to spend the rest of my life rebuilding this place from the ground up, you have my word, but right now setting fire to these bastards are my only option," his dark countenance gazed back upon the red headed Gear. They had been through a lot together over the years, Miles knew how Wilks' brain worked, how he had been trained to assess a situation. The father had bordered on the extreme, and the son had looked at the human aspect. Miles had adapted to work with both members of the Wilks family. But it was the son he viewed as family. It was the son he had followed when they decided to flee from the COG. And right now it was the son who was asking him to set fire to their home.

Miles was an idea man. His mechanical brain forced him to think outside the box, if there was another way, he would find it. As he glanced up at the burning structures around him, so many homes long beyond saving he questioned whether he might be the right person for the job.

"Crap," he cursed to himself, "okay, but we maximise on Polyps, limit destruction. See that building there?"

"The one already on fire?" Miles couldn't help notice the hint of uncertainty in Wilks' voice.

"We lure them in, set a trap, jump the hell out and blow the buggers to pieces,"

"You make it sound so simple. If it weren't for the already flaming building, I'd be right with you with enthusiasm,"

"Hey," Miles gave him a look, "the building is already on fire, I'm trying to keep what little we have left. Now, do you trust me?"

"Of course I bloody do," Wilks gave the building a cursory glance before assessing the area around it, "now you're going to listen to me. Get into cover, have that grenade ready and lit. I'll lure them in, and you light it up."

"That wasn't the…"

"I'm your Sergeant Miles," Wilks rarely played the rank card, if he did it was because he could see something from the situation that meant his family would come to harm. Something that Miles had overlooked. As much as he wanted to object, he knew Wilks had made his decision.

They planted themselves behind cover to assess their plan, Wilks carefully drawing the Polyps towards them. Miles kept himself hidden as his Sergeant made his approach into the burning building. The wall of heat hit him hard as he took a breath to steel himself and trod further into the darkness. Wilks could hear the clicking and hissing of the creatures as they skittered close. For a moment he wondered whether they'd grown too cautious of the situation, that they had evolved beyond blindly following their target into certain doom. But as one appeared suddenly in front of him, he realised that the Polyps had been trying to outthink him. He blasted it back with his Gnasher just as he heard the calculated clink of Miles' grenade.

"Incoming!" The engineer hollered.

"Shit, shit," Wilks threw himself at the back door, revving his chainsaw to slice the wood apart and squeeze out of the building.

He rolled heavily into the street. Hands clasped over his head to protect himself, as the room exploded outwards. The structure creaked and groaned as the wood shattered into pieces over him. He lay there, momentarily, as splinters of the building rained down on him. Slowly he made the decision to stagger to his feet and made his wobbly way back to Miles and saw a sight that chilled him to the bone. Miles, who had been picking off the odd burning Polyp from the building, was completely oblivious to the approaching Nightmares behind him. Wilks struggled to pull the Longshot from its webbing in time. He lifted the sight to his eye, lined up one target and pulled the trigger. Except he had forgotten that he'd been using Aidan's Longshot. The bullet sliced past his target, leaving Miles exposed.

"Miles!" Wilks cried out, "behind you."

Miles turned too late as three Nightmares descended upon him, one grabbed his already broken arm and yanked him backwards. Miles stifled a yelp as he swung his body around to wrestle himself out of the hold. His able arm lashed out, catching one of his attackers in the gut, throwing him to one side. He held himself well until two pulled out their Cleavers and held them either side of his neck, forcing him to a standstill.

Wilks drew to a halt at the scene, "Miles!"

Thaw lifted his Cleaver from Miles' neck for a moment and pointed it in Wilks' direction.

"Our Leader requires a meeting, just you and him, no tricks. We'll take this one for insurance. His safety will be guaranteed provided you keep your word,"

"The only thing that bastard is going to get is my fist in his face!" Wilks yelled angrily.

"Keep it together Ol," Miles called back, "do not let it destroy you."

Before Wilks could respond, Thaw and the Nightmares dragged a struggling Miles away with them, leaving the Sergeant alone to continue his approach.

Wilks let out a reluctant sigh, "it's been coming to this for a long time."

The Leader swung his giant blade at a fleeing civilian. He sliced at the woman again and again as she screamed at the impact, thrusting her forward into the water. She thrashed around a few times, reaching out to him for help. He sliced back at her with his blade, lopping off her arm and kicking her backwards. She struggled for a moment, the water staining red as she sank further into the depths. Gasping for air until her body bobbed motionlessly.

"Enough!" Wilks bellowed as he staggered to halt in the harbour.

The Leader whirled round at his adversary's voice and let out a throaty laugh.

"So this is where you hid yourself playing the doting husband, blinding yourself to this pathetic life growing fat and complacent," he flung his arms wide, "you thought you could keep the outside from this hole?"

"Don't you ever talk to me about fucking holes, I've saved enough of your family from them."

"You saved no-one, they're all fucking dead to me," he surged towards him angrily, giving away any inclination Wilks may have had in regards to his identity.

"That was the choice you made. No one forced you to make those decisions. You are here of your own free will."

"You think this was a choice?!" He roared, "You think I am here because this is what I wanted to make of myself. After all those years I spent aspiring and training, and I turn into this!"

He angrily ripped his mask off and thrust it to the floor, revealing his identity to Wilks.

He knew who to expect even before the cover came off, but he just didn't realise the magnitude of the monster he faced. Standing before him, staring with as much hatred as he could muster, his face a mess, cheek bone and partial eye socket revealed the husk that remained of the young adult he had once saved. Washington Frost spat blood at his feet in defiance.

"It should have been me,"

"Jealously? Seriously? That is what turned you into the creature you are, because of a fucking girl,"

Frost barked a laugh, "you think my life ended because she fucking ditched me? What kind of idiot do you think I am? I'm perfectly capable of moving on and surviving without her. But you, you should have taken me instead."

"What?"

"I was ready to become a soldier, the day you came to us I was so eager to prove to you that I was willing to fight by your side. But she fucking stuck her nose in, made it about herself, as she always did, and you fell hook line and sinker for the fucking innocent act. You became her white knight rather than the soldier you were meant to be, and I took the fall. Because of you that Mauler damaged me beyond repair. I stand here today as a reminder of your failure,"

"You're kidding me," Wilks racked his brain for any point that Frost had tried reached out to him, and failed, "you never said anything."

"I was the only one who didn't need training, who could handle a weapon without struggling. But no you pick the girl. Playing the fucking hero, acting to sacrifice yourself for us to win her over and gain a shiny new promotion. Yeah, you're such a hypocrite,"

"Act! You seriously think what happened two years ago was a bloody act? I gave you your chances like everyone else. I let you make the choices, lead your people. I only stepped in because she didn't feel safe following you to certain danger. It turned out her gut instinct was correct. I didn't get your Compound killed, you did."

Frost flinched, he remembered every moment of that fateful night in the Stranded camp. He still had nightmares about the blood on his hands as he tried to save some of them. But he would never allow the Gear, who had proved to him all along that he had been wrong, to see the turmoil it had created inside him.

"My face fucking melted!" He screamed back instead, "Do you know what it's like to have your skin melt from the inside out? To feel the agonising pain as you start inhaling your blood? But having to keep taking that poison that was ripping me apart from the inside out for fear of the infection from spreading."

"I was never responsible for that!" Wilks attempted to defend himself, "I did my job, I got you to Jacinto. What else did you want from me?"

"Yeah that's right, dump me in Jacinto where the doctors knowingly prodded and poked. They knew what was going to happen, but they just stood by and let it. You left me when I needed you the most,"

"I thought you were safe, damnit Frost. Your Lieutenant was meant to protect you. You were his responsibility, not mine,"

Frost paced back and forth, swinging his blade from side to side as if he was battling with the memories.

"Once we left Jacinto it got worse. Leaving that place meant that those monsters weren't even hiding anymore. They started collecting their victims together. People injured during the evacuation, civilians who were too sick to fight back and they tortured us further. They hacked away at us until we couldn't feel pain any longer. They called us a Nightmare of mistakes, so that's what we became. I kept thinking that someone would come for us, save us one last time. But when no one came I knew we had to fight back alone, take down the monsters that had created us and run."

The shock on Wilks' face was evident to see, he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He had been witness to some horrors in his time in the COG, things his father had endorsed and encouraged, and he had done his best to voice his disapproval. But there were things that even he played a hand in occurring. He had held the IV bag that had pumped into Frost's failing body, read the inscription on the side of its content and had knowingly allowed his treatment to continue. Frost was right. He was responsible for this atrocity. He had been in a position to stop it and instead walked away.

"I'm sorry," the words felt like bile out of his mouth, "I should have been there."

Frost twitched, his jaw ground together as he whirled towards the Gear.

"Save your pity, I don't need it from you,"

"Frost, I..."

"You took her from me, my only reason to survive and you stole her. I grew up with her, protected her, loved her with my very soul, and she tossed me aside like I meant nothing to her. Who the hell are you to step into our lives and destroy it like you did? You're just a soldier, nothing more,"

Wilks scrutinised him for a moment before responding, "I thought you said this wasn't about her."

Frost screamed at him in frustration then charged at him with his Cleaver raised. Wilks, who had expected this response, met him with the chainsaw of his Lancer. Pushing him backwards to keep their distance.

"Stop making excuses for the things you have done. You hate me, I get that. But don't ever presume to know me," Wilks shouted back at him in an attempt to stand his ground.

"You COG are all the same. All twisted and conniving. Turning a blind eye to the atrocities around you. Did you even try to stop it? Angelo, that kid, they had him on the firing line because he was too different because they were scared of him. These are the people you follow!"

"Do you ever stop to listen to yourself?" Wilks interrupted him angrily, "You only know half the story."

Frost's body shuddered at Wilks' defiance, holding back his aggression was harder than he thought possible. He could see the build up of anger surge through Wilks as he took a few determined steps towards him and pointed angrily.

"Don't you dare tar me with the same brush,"

Wilks would never share with Frost the reasons behind his dissolution of the institution that raised him. How could he explain to him that he had picked his people over the COG? Despite everything he had seen this was still the same monster who had mercilessly slain Tate's young family. Frost would never understand the reasoning behind why Wilks took Aidie's hand in marriage and then as a family fled from Port Farrell before anyone knew they were missing. They had thrown away their lives as Coalition soldiers to protect the only people that mattered. He refused to view it as desertion because his family were all that mattered.

"You think you still have the control, don't you? While your pathetic village crumbles and we're ripping apart everything you thought you could protect, you still fucking stand here and play hero,"

"This is my home, and I'll do anything to protect it,"

From the times in their past that Frost and Wilks had clashed the Gear had always done well to stop his temper from fraying. But it was evident that Wilks one step away from letting it all out and the temptation was too much for Frost to resist.

"Not doing too good a job, though, are you. What a failure, standing here once again acting hero as your home is on fire and the lives of those you hold dear in my hands,"

"If you've harmed Miles in any way..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard the threats before, you'll smash in my head. Big words considering I haven't seen any action from you,"

Frost watched Wilks twitch in response. He was holding everything back more than usual. The way he awkwardly held himself as his chest heaved with each breath he took. It all started to click into place. He let out a small chuckle letting it resonate into a loud barking laugh.

"No way, no fucking way!" he bellowed, "He did it didn't he, that little shit infected you! I've seen enough of those freaks to know what it looks like when you're rocking the Lambent hangover from hell. That kid is so fucking predictable. He would have killed you to get to Angelo, you realise, that kid has no loyalty except to that creature. I learnt that the hard way too."

Frost bent over to stifle his laughter.

"Surprised you didn't slash his limbs off for defying you," Wilks commented carefully.

"Oh he did a pretty good job of fucking up his life without me interfering,"

"So you do have a conscience,"

"Not that it would have mattered, there's no coming back now for whatever Angelo has become. That's Lem's cross to bear."

"Those creatures need destroying, they're dangerous and unpredictable, and they won't hesitate to kill you either,"

"Nah, I made a deal with Angelo's creature thing,"

"You think it'll honour that?" Wilks bellowed, "it'll answer only to the Lambency inside it. And that's one thing I know about."

"Yes, and those Lambent freaks answer to me," he swung his blade casually in his direction, "how long have you been fighting it now? How many hours since you left the mansion? Haven't seen many humans last long with it. I've heard the agonising screams from them all as they tried to fight it. All to no avail. And then, when it takes you, you will be mine to control."

"I don't entirely understand what happened for you to turn into this piece of shit," Wilks struggled to maintain his composure, "you were a good kid, with a slightly misguided moral compass. A lot of crap happened to you, and for that, I wish I had done more. But I just don't understand what happened to turn you into the monster that murdered a man's children in front of him."

Frost took a moment to understand what Wilks was implying.

"What?"

"He was my best friend, and you ripped his family apart. You slaughtered his little children in front of him and their mother, and then you tore his manhood from him. Only a monster is capable of such barbaric acts," Wilks balled his fists, the pain of it all still so real.

For the first time, a look of alarm crossed Frost's face as he realised what Wilks was accusing him.

"Wait, that wasn't..."

Freja appeared from the far side of the harbour, and it was enough to silence him instantly. Wilks watched the mercenary's body language as he responded to the woman's approach. He puffed his chest out, the look of concern crinkling into a scowl as he called her name.

"Freja my love!" he called, almost as if for Wilks' benefit.

Freja let out a throaty chuckle as she caught sight of him, dragging her captive towards her and revealing Aidan to them. She was bloodied and beaten, but there was still a stubborn air of defiance held in the way she walked. She slowly lifted her head to catch sight of Wilks, as their gazes fixed for a moment he indicated away encouraging her to follow suit, and she then drew her attention to Frost. She stopped her steps in astonishment.

"Oh god no," she gasped in horror, "Wash?"

Freja urged her forwards, "c'mon."

For a moment Aidie was completely oblivious to the woman trying to take her captive. She took a few steps towards Frost and paused, clasping a hand to her mouth as she took in his horrific sight. He could see tears filling her eyes as she drew closer to him.

"Oh god Frost, what did they do to you?"

Wilks could see there was an emotion rumbling in the depths of Frost's insides as he took in the woman who had broken his heart. He let her approach him closer than he would have allowed anyone.

"The COG did this to me," his tongue lolled slightly out of the side of his cheek as he spoke, his voice softer when he addressed her, "the drug they gave me to cure the infection destroyed me from the inside out. Then, when I turned to them for help they just turned their back on my pleas and experimented on me further. They tortured me, Aide, left me screaming for mercy. They tried to break me."

She shook her head very slightly in denial. Her hands still clasped to her mouth as she tried to fight down the repulsion. She let out a stuttered breath as she dropped her hands from her face.

"You can vomit if you want, most people do when they first see me," he quietly told her.

Deciding on her next movement, she took another step closer to him, the closest they had been in a long time. Their breath hot against their skin. Rising to the tops of her toes she carefully reached out to caress the side of his intact face, feeling him resist the urge to lean into her touch.

Freja bristled visibly behind her.

"Oh Frost," she barely whispered his name searching for a glimpse of the man she once called brother.

"Look at you drawn to horrific monstrosities," Freja seethed loudly forcing Frost out of his trance. He stepped backwards suddenly and pushed her roughly away, hard enough to send her stumbling over Freja's waiting feet.

"Well, at least I know you have a type now," he scoffed, her influence over him now gone.

"You know I never forgot you Wash," she carefully dusted the dirt off her knees, "I left you so you would never have to be tied down, that you would become someone better. I never thought that you'd become this monster."

"The COG turned me into this Aidan, I had no say in it!" he was quick to raise his voice to her now.

"As responsible as the COG is for what happened to you, you turned into this...this thing by yourself," she snapped back, "The COG didn't ask you to murder a man's children in front of him, nor did they tell you to maim him brutally. You did that yourself."

"But I..." Frost began to retort just as Freja lunged aggressively towards Aidie and walloped her hard across the face.

"I've had enough of your shit," she spat at her, grabbing Aidie by the arm and wrenching her backwards, "you keep your mouth shut before I ..."

Aidie whirled round, fingering the Locust dagger holstered on her waist. Eyes flashed dangerously.

"Before you what Freja?" she seethed, "I've had enough of you thinking you can overpower me with your aggression. If you're going to gut me bloody do it, the moment you do, Wilks will rip your head off."

Freja glanced across at Wilks, who had been carefully watching the entire scene between clenched teeth. He gripped hold of his Lancer for fear of letting the tremor get out of hand.

"I wouldn't worry about him," Frost commented from behind them, he had been watching Wilks carefully, "he's infected, he'll be a goner before too long."

"You're wrong, there's a cure," Aidie bravely responded.

"If there were a cure you think there would still be this many freaks around? You think we would have destroyed those things by now,"

"Lem said..."

"Lem lies!" Frost hollered. He strode angrily towards her and tightly grabbed her other arm until she squirmed uncomfortably in his hold, drawing her to his damaged face, "He promised to cure me! I never expected this to be permanent. He promised me he could fix it. It was nothing but false promises and fucking lies to keep him poking and prodding at more humans so he could have that freak job back."

"That's not true," her voice, although filled with fear, remained defiant.

"He injected your fucking Gear to get that freak back. He knew what he was doing from the moment he saw him. That shit will do whatever he wants. He's not the kid you once knew, none of us are."

"And neither am I," she seethed.

At that moment a devastating deluge of agony hit Wilks. He dropped his Lancer and gripped both hands over his head to cover his ears. He let out a yell as his body gave way and he fell to the ground.

"Olly!" Aidie shrieked as she wrestled against Frost and Freja to get to him. They were both so strong, but she was unrelenting, she wriggled and kicked against them.

"Surrender to it!" Frost bellowed out to the fallen Gear as he struggled against her, "Embrace the darkness, hold on to the nightmares in your head and bring it out. It wants to be set free, to be stronger than you are."

"No, Wilks don't listen to him," Aidie cried, her hands grasping Frost's face and pushing him away only to have Freja grip her hair and pull her towards her.

Frost was laughing loudly now as he watched the Sergeant curl into a ball to combat the pain. They could hear him cry out as he tried to fight the transformation inside.

"You're too late Aidan. He's too far gone," his tongue lolled out of the gap in his face in joy, causing her to lean away from him in repulsion, "all this fighting talk and yet he'll still be mine to manipulate."

"You bastard," she spat.

"Put her with the other one," Frost decided, wrapping an arm around Aidie and lifting her off the ground.

"Careful," Freja warned, "she's carrying a precious cargo I plan on keeping."

Frost nearly dropped Aidie in response, "she's what?"

"She'll be providing us with a delightful bundle of joy,"

The look he gave her was enough. The pain in his eyes as he dropped her and turned away, taking a few angry steps before approaching her again. He pointed angrily at her, letting out a few aggressive breaths.

"After everything you said to me," he shrieked, "take her away before I beat her senseless."

Aidie struggled against Freja as she smacked her hard, enough to bring her to the ground. She grabbed her before she attempted another move, now limp in her arms as she dragged her away from her fallen Sergeant.

She tossed her to a heap on the floor beside Miles. Frost following angrily behind them.

"You stay down, or I'll break your legs," He seethed, lifting his hand to wallop her and feeling the rush as she flinched in return, "You pathetic COG think you can even dream of defeating me, well look at you now. This village is my place now."