Mmhmm. I'm back again.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANYTHING.

DEDICATION: To Caris, as usual. *wide smile*

WARNING: Drake gets a bit of a sailor's mouth in this one... Haha.

NOTE: Edilio and his Spanish-ness again. He says "What is this?"

Chapter Seventeen: Spotlight

"The one thing you're fighting to hold

will be the one thing you've got to let go...

And when you feel the war can not be won,

you're gonna die to try what can't be done..."

-Mute Math, "Spotlight"

Day one hundred and five, still.

Nala just left, leaving her cronies to clean up after her, to clean up the Holocaust that she just caused, and left us with the promise that she was coming back soon. I don't know what that means, exactly; is she finally going to kill all of us and take Little Pete? Or does she just want to torture us some more?

The doors slammed open and Nala stalked in, flanked by dozens of her clones. "Get up," she snapped, and after a brief hesitation they all obeyed, Lana tugging on Patrick's ragged, filthy collar. They subconsciously shifted into one big group; Drake and his gun at the head, only inches away from Nala.

"Hey, Drake," she said, all smiles and fake cheeriness. "How are you liking this game?" His eyes flared with rage as he shifted his weight and clutched his gun even tighter.

"Fuck you."

"Now, now, now." She actually wagged her finger at him. "None of that language. Hmm, what punishment should be used for disorderly conduct?" Nala snapped a finger and Drake's gun was suddenly in her hands, and her little-girl arms were wrapped around his throat, the barrel of the gun pressed against his temple.

"Death is a fitting punishment, don'tcha think?" Her voice was light, casual even, as if she was discussing which ice cream flavor to choose for dessert. "I guess the group of survivors will be one short tonight." Nala's finger hovered over the trigger, and Astrid looked into Drake's eyes.

I shouldn't have felt anything. This was it; the killer finally getting what he deserves. And I know it's cliché; I looked into his eyes and saw something there, but I did. I still don't know what that something was, but I did understand that our "group of survivors" as Nala called us has no chance of survival of any sort without Drake. However much I hate it.

"Stop," Astrid said loudly, silently proud that her voice had come out sounding strong, without wavering. "Just... Stop. This has to end." She picked up Little Pete, resolutely not looking down at his blond head, resolutely staring ahead, not thinking about what she was doing, willing herself not to cry.

Like she even had any tears left.

Astrid missed the shocked, incredulous looks on the faces of four teenagers behind her, she missed the whispered "No..." from Lana, she missed as Drake's mouth twisted downward into a scowl, but his grey eyes lightened from the inside. No, right at that moment Astrid's world consisted of herself, her brother, and Nala, smirking in front of her.

"So, you finally are seeing sense?" Nala whispered as she removed the gun from Drake's head, threw it to one of her lackeys, and took Little Pete in her arms. "Good job. The cretin lives, for now." She shoved Drake back to their group, where he sprawled to the floor. Lana helped him up; his face was a brilliant shade of red.

"What, are you an idiot?" he hissed as Nala walked away, one of her clones carrying Little Pete. "I thought we agreed that that kid was our only hope, and you just gave him away!" He exhaled loudly, turning away in exasperation.

"She was about to kill you!" Astrid replied bitingly. "Or don't you care about that anymore? Heavens above, I should at least get some thanks! I just gave my brother away for you, the psycho that killed my boyfriend!"

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Silence reigned in the church when the Nalas showed up. Astrid was sitting with Lana, as far away from Drake as she could get. Edilio was playing a subdued game of Spit with Caine, as Orc's fingers were too big to hold the cards. Orc was watching, drinking a beer. And Drake had his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall.

"You are summoned," a Nala droned. "Come, or be taken forcefully." Astrid and Lana stood up, as did the others. Lana whistled for Patrick, who came, oblivious to all tension around him.

"I've had enough forceful taking today, thanks," Caine muttered as they were led outside for the first time in exactly one hundred and five days.

"What the hell," Drake hissed.

"¿Qué es eso?" Edilio's mouth dropped open.

"So this is what she's been doing," Caine and Lana whispered at the same time. Astrid's eyes widened in awe and Patrick barked loudly.

"Hot damn," Orc slurred.

Where the mayor's office used to be loomed a gigantic castle, turrets and everything. Nalas marched around it, putting finishing touches on the walls. But that wasn't all.

Behind the castle was another hulking piece of architecture, a gigantic Roman-inspired colosseum. "What is that?" Drake asked under his breath, shading his eyes with one hand to get a better look at it.

"A colosseum," Astrid answered, before she remembered that she wasn't talking to Drake. "The ancient Romans built them. They were entertainment centers, where they would throw prisoners in to fight with wild animals or each other as an execution." Then, she realized what she had said, and turned to the others with wide eyes.

Entertainment centers. Where prisoners would be executed for the pleasure of others.

God save us all.

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