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Chapter 3 – Little Yellow Bear

Ally pushed open the flap that led to the midsized hut that her, her brother and her mother all shared and made her way to the corner that was hers.

She flopped down on her bed and glared at the faded yellow bear in her hands.

"If it wasn't for you, he'd still be on the street where every pig like him deserves to be. But you mean so much to my mum."

The bear's black eyes stared out into nothingness as Ally hugged it close to her.

///Doc's Hut///

Broc sat on a stool next to the only object in the room; a steel spring bed with a thin old mattress covering it. The COG's body had been dumped upon it only an hour before.

"You're lucky you had that bear on you, big guy. Otherwise you wouldn't a been here right now. 'Cause my sis, she hates your kind, calls you pigs like most of us stranded do." He swayed slightly as if he was going to get up but chose to stay seated.

The Doc walked in carrying a small paper notepad and a very chewed pencil. He scratched the side of his face and said "He's lucky. Such a blow like that on most other people would have put them out permanently. But this pig's gunna be alright, he'll wake up sooner rather than later and when he does I want you to make him stay here. I've got some questions for him."

"OK Doc. You wanna know what's goin' on out there doncha?"Broc asked with a tilt of his head and a smile.

"Hn, Yeah," and with those words Old Doc left the hut.

Broc turned back to the soldier. There was something about him that just made it feel right to bring him here and keep him from the untimely death he would have met on the street. He thought about what the Doc had said 'I've got some questions for him' and thought "Well, I've got some questions of my own."

///2 hour's later///

A shift in position, a small movement, that's all it took to alert Broc to the wakening state of the COG before him. He got up off the stool and stepped to the bedside.

"Yo, you awake bud?" he asked poking the guy in the arm.

The soldier grunted and opened his eyes slightly adjusting to the overhead light. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and turned to look at the oversized boy beside him.

"How the hell did I get here?" he asked looking around the barren room.

"Drone smacked you upside the head an' you fell down like a tonne a bricks. Lucky me an' my sis was there to drag you 'ere, 'cause you woulda been dead meat on the street out there," Broc's smile grew as he saw remembrance in the soldiers face.

"Oh, right. Well, uh, thanks for savin' my ass out there." He said lowering himself back onto the mattress.

"Believe me if you hadn't picked up that teddy bear, we woulda left you there. So thank the bear, 'cause my sis hates you COGs."

"Well I wouldn't worry about that anymore. I left my team just before that Drone hit me."

"What you do that for?" Broc pulled the stool closer and sat back down.

"I got into a fight with my best... my commanding officer about a personal issue. I'm not going to take that crap from him when he knows he's wrong," he shrugged.

Broc shifted on the stool and smiled "Well, that topic is slightly depressing. Anyway, what's your name, big guy? Seeing as we can't just call you that all the time."

"Uh, it's Dom."

"Dom what?"

"Dominic Santiago. Ex-private Dom Santiago," He said with a short lived pride. "And you?"

"Broc... something or other. I can't remember my last name. I've never had to use it," he said with a shrug and his ever present smile.

"You don't know your last name? But you've got one right?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do. Ma and Ally, my sis, know it. I just can't be stuffed trying to remember something I don't need."

"When the war's over you'll need it."

"And you'll be in prison for desertion. Or maybe killed for it," Broc frowned. "It may sound strange but I don't look forward to the end of the war. Here in this hanger, everything's great. The Locust and COGs don't ever come here. It's safe."

"Well I gotta leave," he started getting up from the bed. "Now that I'm AWOL I might as well try to find my wife, myself."

"Hey maybe I can help you. Maybe I know her. Tell me about her."

"Alright," he paused thinking of the right things to say. "She's got bright brown eyes that are always shining when she laughs. Long, black hair that used to go to her waist but I don't know if it's like that anymore. Light tan skin, like yours but a bit lighter. And she's got a laugh and a smile that you'd never forget."

Broc smiled as he watched Dom go into something like a trance as he described his wife.

"You know that sounds a lot like my Ma. But that's probably just my opinion. I don't know anyone else like that," he looked away in thought. "Hey, you should meet her when she gets back!"

"Hm, maybe," his smile fading at the fact that the boy couldn't help him.

The flap to the hut flipped open and revealed Doc reading from his notebook and tapping his forehead with his pencil. He looked up and was slightly startled to see the soldier awake.

"My, well, Good morning... you," he struggled to form a sentence and failed miserably. "So, you're awake? Good. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for the benefit of the people living in this garage... hanger... Whatever you want to call it."

Dom looked at the man as if he had grown another head and shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "O... K. Ask away."

"Oh, wonderful," the old man's face lit up like a light bulb. "So, obviously, Raam's dead, what happened next?"

"Uh, not a lot really. I think the queen's angry but she hasn't done anything yet so it's been pretty boring out there. This is a good thing, sort of. Everyone's on edge waiting for her to do something."

"Is that it?" Doc tried not to sound disappointed. He wanted to hear of great battles of life and death that lasted from dusk till dawn and left streets painted red.

Dom thought about it for a sec "Yep, that's it."

"Oh, well that's all I wanted to know," he sighed. "Um, Maria, Broc's mother, will be coming in soon to meet you. She's the one who will decide what we do with you."

"I'm not an object," Dom said sullenly.

"Be that as it may, she will decide whether we help you or not."

"Ok, when does she get back?"

"Some time tomorrow," Broc offered, reminding them of his presence in the room.

"Oh Fuck," he flopped back on to the mattress, jumping as it squeaked loudly from his weight. Doc and Broc chuckled at his discomfort.