Hal's head throbbed with a burning pain. His eyes fluttered open weakly as he turned his head slightly, and a wave of nausea immediately hit him from the sudden movement.

A bright, almost blinding light shone down on Hal, causing him to squint. He released a low moan, and slowly his eyes became slightly adjusted to the brightly lit room.

He glanced around slowly, careful not to jerk his head too quickly so the pain wouldn't escalate. For a moment, Hal looked around the room in mild confusion, wondering where he was. But then he remembered.

Soon after he had boarded the ship with Karen, a few Skitters had thrown Hal into this blindingly bright room, and left him there. It had been more than three days.

The room almost reminded Hal of a solitary confinement room in a psychiatric facility. Every inch of the small room was white, and the only light hung suspended from the ceiling, and it was so bright Hal couldn't open his eyes fully. The light was always on, and Hal had soon found himself praying for darkness.

Hal slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning back against one of the walls for support. He sighed and rubbed at his stinging eyes.

Something suddenly caught Hal's eye. A small bowl-like object rested a foot or two from his right foot, and Hal saw the familiar sparkle of water inside it.

Ignoring the pain in his head and the weakness in his body, Hal scrambled towards the bowl, grasping it in his shaky hands. He lifted it to his lips and moaned in pleasure as the lukewarm water soothed his dry throat.

Since Hal had entered the ship three and a half days ago, he had received no food or water. He had forced himself to stay awake, hoping to confront whoever or whatever brought in his food. When no one came in after three days, Hal gave up hope for food or water and allowed his exhaustion to claim him for an hour or two. He hadn't thought he would be waking back up.

Hal tossed the bowl carelessly to the side when he drank all of its contents. The bowl, which was made of a thin, glass-like material, shattered as it collided with the ground, sending a loud cracking sound throughout the room.

Hal sighed and settled back against the wall again, letting his eyes close for a brief moment.

"Hal, what are you doing?" His eyes opened at the sound of his father's voice.

Tom knelt before Hal, his face tired and earnest. Hal didn't feel shocked at the sight of his father. He knew he was hallucinating, undoubtedly from sleep deprivation and being confined in that room for so long. But Hal was too tired to care, and if he was being honest, he was happy to have the company.

"What do you mean?" Hal mumbled, his voice hoarse.

"Why are you just sitting there? Fight back! Get up, throw things around, beat on the walls, scream! Do something!" Tom's voice was loud and slightly harsh, but it had little, if any effect on Hal.

"I'm tired, Dad." Hal said quietly, his eyes shutting involuntarily.

"You are not doing this, Hal! Get up, and fight back! Do you think I would just give up if I was in your place?" Tom looked at Hal intently, waiting for him to stand up and start fighting. But Hal remained slouched against the cold wall.

"No." Hal stated, his eyes still shut.

"Then why are you?"

"Because I'm not you."

"So that means you just give up? You've never given up, Hal! Not once in your entire life! So why now?" Tom's tone was angry, and almost taunting.

Hal opened his eyes and looked at his father evenly.

"I was never getting off this ship. We both knew that." Hal's voice was hollow, yet firm. He continued to look at Tom, his eyes never faltering.

"You are goi-" Tom started, his voice still loud and determined.

"No, I'm not. I was dead the moment I took Karen's hand. She was never going to let me live!" Hal spat back at Tom, forcing himself to sit up straight. "She's going to either get what she wants from you, or she isn't, but either way, I'm dead."

Hal pushed himself to his feet. He was in such a delusional state that he barely registered how weak and sore he was.

Hal began to pace in front of Tom. He glanced down at him, his eyes narrowed.

"And who are you to judge me? Huh?" Hal shouted accusingly, jabbing his finger in Tom's face. Tom remained silent and kneeling on the ground, watching Hal with a deep intensity.

"You know, you were pretty ready to give up after you got back from walking onto that goddamn ship! You didn't stop once to think about how you were affecting Ben or Matt, did you?" Hal stopped in front of Tom and looked down at him angrily.

"What about how I was affecting you?" Tom asked quietly, looking up into Hal's eyes.

Hal fell silent, his brow furrowing as his father's words sunk in.

"What about it? I was fine. Ben and Matt were the ones who needed you, but you weren't there." Hal's tone was quieter and a little more calm, but it still had a sharp edge to it.

"You needed me, too." Tom stood up and looked into Hal's eyes closely, seeming to search through them.

"Ben and Matt-" Hal started slowly, but Tom cut him off.

"Needed me. But so did you. You're still my son, Hal." Tom reached out and gently placed his hands on Hal's shoulders.

Hal stared at Tom for a moment, unable to speak.

He had grown up so quickly after the invasion that he had stopped relying on his father for pretty much everything. It had all happened so quickly and chaotically that Hal had never really taken the time to stop and think that maybe he did still need his father for some things. Sometimes Hal forgot that he was really just a kid himself. It was hard, and almost painful, for Hal to think about it. In this world, there were no children. Everyone had to grow up immediately. And Tom's words only reminded Hal of that.

"I was fine-" Hal tried to speak again, but Tom shouted over him.

"Oh, come on, Hal! Are you really going to stand there and tell me you were fine, that you are fine, after everything you've been through?! Stop kidding yourself! You're not fine, Hal!" Tom's voice echoed throughout the room, causing Hal's ears to ring.

"Stop it!" Hal shouted angrily, clapping his hands over his ears like a child. He couldn't let himself think about everything, not when he was already feeling so trapped. He couldn't take it.

"Stop what, Hal?! Stop being honest?! What is it you're afraid of? Is it the memories? The taunting, terrifying memories? They never go away, do they, Hal?" Tom stepped closer to Hal, cocking his head to the side.

"Stop talking!" Hal pressed his hands tighter over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to shut his father out.

"Which one's the worst, Hal? The one where you found my dead wife's body, blood still pouring from her wounds? Or maybe all those innocent little kids being blown to pieces?" Tom continued to step closer to Hal, who was practically shivering with fear.

"Shut up!" Hal's scream was piercing, the memories already beginning to seep into his mind. He stumbled back, trying to move away from Tom.

"Maybe it was Ben's neck snapping, as he looked into your eyes for help. Or when Dai was killed because you went through the window first." Tom was merely inches from Hal.

Hal fell to his knees, still pressing down hard on his ears to shut Tom's cold words out.

"Please stop!" Hal begged hoarsely, feeling as though he may explode at any second.

Tom knelt down next to Hal, whose eyes were still squeezed tightly shut.

"Fight back, Hal. Even if all you can do is injure one of them, do it. Stop feeling guilty about things you couldn't have controlled, and fight back." Tom said, his tone much calmer, yet still firm.

Hal's eyes opened slowly, and he let his hands fall from his ears. He glanced up at Tom, feeling as though he were a thousand years old.

"How?" His voice was weak, and it cracked slightly.

"When did they bring you water, Hal?" Tom lowered his head a little to meet Hal's eyes evenly.

"When I was sleeping…" Hal mumbled, his head beginning to pound.

Tom remained silent, his eyes boring into Hal's.

Hal held Tom's gaze, searching his face for an answer. Then it hit him. They'd brought him water when he'd passed out. They had only come into the room when he had been asleep, because he posed no threat unconscious.

"They come in when I'm asleep because I'm a threat awake." Hal said slowly. He straightened his back up and eyes Tom curiously.

Tom smiled, and Hal almost felt better at the sight. But he knew this wasn't really his father. It was only a hallucination.

"That's my boy." Tom whispered, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth and admiration.

Hal let out a sharp breath, and for the briefest moment, his eyes closed.

But that was all it took. When Hal opened his eyes again, Tom was gone.

Hal looked around the room, hoping his eyes might skim across his father's scruffy face. But he was alone.

Hal lowered his eyes to the ground, his chest tightening. He wanted so badly for his father to come back to him, but he knew he wouldn't. Not yet.

Hal's eyes were suddenly drawn to the shattered bowl in the corner of the room. He focused on one particularly long a sharp piece.

Tom would come back soon. But first, Hal needed to fight.

Hal had been lying on his side for close to four hours, his eyes remaining firmly shut. Four hours, but still no Skitters, and no Karen.

Hal ran his finger across the shard hidden in his hand. He applied a small amount of pressure to the tip of it, feeling it tear into his skin harshly. He almost smiled. He could already imagine himself thrusting the shard deep into a Skitter's skull.

Hal knew he wouldn't be able to escape the ship. He would be able to take on one Skitter, but more would surely come and overpower him. He knew he wouldn't be able to break free of captivity, and he was okay with that. Part of him didn't want to escape. If he did, Karen would surely order an attack on the 2nd Mass and all those seeking refuge in the New Charleston. All he wanted to do was... Fight back.

A quiet clicking sound suddenly echoed near Hal's back, followed closely by a low, nearly silent creaking. Hal's muscles tightened slightly, but not noticeably so. The door to the room was open.

For a moment, there was only silence. Just as Hal began to wonder if he imagined the noises, a cool breeze brushed over his still body. The small amount of light that managed to shine through his closed eyelids suddenly vanished, leaving him in darkness. Hal felt a shiver run down his spine, but he remained still.

Hal heard the familiar hiss of a Skitter somewhere above him, and it took all he had to maintain his composure. He wanted to scream and cry out in fear, but that would ruin his plan. So Hal kept quiet and focused on his breathing to calm himself until the time was right to make his move.

A steamy, gnarly breath washed over Hal, nearly causing him to gag. He felt the Skitter inch closer to him, another quiet hiss escaping its mouth.

Wait for it, Hal thought anxiously.

The Skitter hissed a little more loudly. Hal felt the breath become hotter on his skin, and he heard the creature move closer to his body.

Wait for it...

A low screech flowed through the still air. Hal tensed his body subtly, preparing himself for what would happen in the next moments.

Wait...

Hal felt the hot breath on his body again, and with it came a small amount of thick saliva. The Skitter was directly above him, its face merely inches from Hal's.

Now.

Hal twisted the shard in his hand so that he was holding it like he would a knife. He pushed himself up and turned, forcing the shard directly into the Skitter's mouth.

The Skitter released a loud screech, sounding similar to nails on a chalkboard. It grasped Hal's arm with one of its pincers, squeezing it so tightly that Hal dropped the shard. It fell to the floor hard, but it didn't shatter.

The Skitter quickly lifted the electric staff it held in its other pincer, and in a swift movement it jabbed the back end into Hal's stomach with such force that he fell to his knees gasping.

Hal's eyes fell to the shard resting a few feet away, and he immediately scrambled to it, swiping it in his hands. He jumped to his feet, feeling as though he'd been hit by a car, and faced the Skitter.

It let out another hiss, its fangs dripping with its thick, slimy saliva. The Skitter jumped up in the air, holding the staff out. Hal saw the familiar blue flash of electricity light up its tip, and without a moment's hesitation, he rushed at the Skitter and jabbed the shard straight through the roof of its mouth.

Hal heard a crunching sound, and the he felt the horrible sticky blood gush from the Skitter's mouth. The Skitter collapsed instantly, dragging Hal down with it. He fell to his side, his arm still jammed inside the dead beast's mouth.

Hal slowly and carefully pulled his sticky arm from the Skitter's mouth, his entire forearm dripping with hot black blood.

He rolled over on his back for a moment, clutching his stomach tightly, desperately trying to not cry out in pain. He pulled his torn shirt up slightly, so that he could get a clear look at his stomach. Hal winced as he saw the already-darkened, swollen bruise that encompassed the entire left side of his abdomen.

Hal pulled his shirt back down, breathing out heavily. He turned his head and saw the staff lying half-beneath the dead Skitter.

Hal stiffly pulled himself to his knees and reached down to the staff. He tugged on it with as much force as he could muster, but it barely moved an inch. The Skitter was too heavy, and Hal was too weak. He sighed in frustration as he pushed himself to his feet.

Hal turned for the door, moving surprisingly quick. He stuck his head out and searched the corridor up and down several times before he proceeded to exit the room.

He didn't know where he was going, or what he was looking for. Hal felt as though he may as well be walking blind. The entire hall was empty, with the exception of the room Hal had been confined to. There were no other rooms, no doors, no exits.

Hal had walked the corridor up and down several times, and he still found nothing. He felt like he was cornered in a tight box. He had yet to even run into another Skitter. He was starting to question whether there had ever even been a Skitter, but the throbbing pain on his abdomen told him there had been.

Hal ran his hands through his hair, pulling on it hard. He looked from side to side hastily. Hal felt like he was going insane. He couldn't tell what was real, and what his mind told him was real.

"You killed my brother." The soft voice filled his head.

Hal turned on his heels quickly, and he met the eyes of a little girl.

She looked to be about five or six years old. She had soft, light brown curls that were slightly matted. Her arms were dirty, and Hal saw traces of dried blood on them. Her face still held a round shape, but her body had too many visible bones. She was draped in a ratty pink dress that looked like it might have been an old princess costume. She wore one matching pink slipper, but her other foot was bare, exposing her overgrown nails and calloused heels. Her skin was pale, almost sickly.

Hal stared at her, finding no response to her statement. He felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he wondered how she came to be on this ship.

Hal knelt down shakily, so that their eyes were even.

"What... What are you doing here?" Hal whispered, glancing around to ensure they were still alone. "How did you get here?"

"You killed my brother." The girl repeated. Her eyes were completely empty, and she expressed no emotions.

Hal opened his mouth to speak, but something behind her caught his eye. Hal squinted, trying to focus. He had spent so much time in that blinding cell that his eyes were having a hard time adjusting the darkened corridor, and he had gone so long without sleep or food that he found it incredibly difficult to maintain any sort of focus.

Hal's eyes slowly focused in on the object. It was glowing, emitting a dull orange color. Hal was exhausted and slightly delirious, so it took him a few moments to realize what the object was.

Then it hit him suddenly. She was harnessed.

Hal tried to stand up quickly, but he fell back on his heels. He caught himself from hitting his back, and he managed to clumsily scramble to his feet.

The little girl stared at Hal, her face still empty of emotion. She watched as he slowly began to stumble backwards and away from her. His face was heavily guarded, but there was a slight flicker of fear in his sunken eyes.

"Where are you going, Hal?" The little girl called out. Her voice rung through his aching head, making his skin crawl.

Hal still backed away, his body moving almost in slow motion. His feet felt heavy, like they were a hundred pounds each.

"Why did you kill my brother?" The little girl began to step closer to Hal.

He slowly came to the realization that the Skitter he killed back in the room had been this little girl's "brother." Hal felt guilty for a second. He had taken a family member from this girl.

Hal almost began to apologize, but then he remembered she was harnessed, and harnessed kids were controlled. This wasn't the little girl speaking to him. It was the thing controlling her body.

As Hal continued to back further down the hall, away from the child, a chill crept down his back. He stopped suddenly, his eyes watching the little girl. She remained where she had been moments before, her eyes still burning into Hal's skin.

Hal turned slowly, his body rigid. He clenched his hands into tight fists at his side, ready to attack whatever awaited him.

Hal turned completely, and found nothing but darkness. His eyes flicked up and down, left and right, but there was only emptiness.

Hal heard a click coming from where the little girl had been. Without hesitation, he spun around, his expression deadly. He immediately stiffened, however, all instincts forgotten.

Where the girl had been standing alone just seconds before, Hal now saw a familiar figure next to the young child. His breath caught in his throat, but he kept his features cool. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing he feared her.

"What are you doing, Hal?" Karen almost sounded exasperated, like she was speaking to a disobedient child. "This could have been simple and painless, if you had just stayed put."

"You weren't feeding me." Hal stated simply, his eyes holding her gaze evenly. His expression was cold and filled with hatred.

"So you killed our brother?" Karen took a step closer to Hal. She pulled the little girl with her.

"I wanted to get your attention." Hal's voice was practically dripping with rage.

"Well, you certainly did that." Karen chuckled a little, taking another step closer to Hal. He remained still, his body stiff.

Karen stopped a few feet away from Hal, an dark grin plastered to her face. She pulled the little girl in front of her, letting her hands rest on the child's shoulders.

"I wouldn't have let them starve you, Hal. You know that, don't you?" Karen questioned, her voice light and deceptively innocent. "I wouldn't let you die, Hal. I love you." She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming.

Hal remained silent, his eyes never falling from hers.

"But... I can't let the death of my brother go unnoticed, Hal. Not even for you." Karen paused, seeming to think about her next words carefully. "You wanted my attention, and I gave it to you. Now, I'm going to need yours."

Without any warning, Karen moved her hands to the girl's head, placing one across her forehead and cupping her jaw with the other.

"No!" Hal yelled, his voice hoarse and trembling. He took a shaky step forward, reaching his hand out towards them.

"Hal?" The little girl called his name, her eyes looking straight into his. And before Hal could do anything, or say anything, Karen twisted her hands quickly.

Hal heard the crack as it rang out between Karen's cold fingers. He stopped moving, feeling frozen in place. For a moment, Hal was certain his heart stopped beating.

Karen removed her hands from the child's head. Hal watched as the little girl collapsed to the ground. Her eyes were still open, but they had rolled back into her head, revealing only the whites. The harness on her tiny back was no longer glowing.

Hal fell to his knees next to the girl's lifeless body. He felt a sharp tightness in his chest, and realized he had been holding in his breath. He breathed out heavily, his heart pounding.

Hal reached out and pulled the child to him. He gently lifted her body into his arms, cradling her. She lay limp in his arms, her skin already becoming cold.

Hal let out another long, deep breath. He felt as though he had too much air in his chest, and it caused his body to ache. He tried to release the air, but the aching remained.

Hal's grip on the dead child tightened. His eyes began to sting with tears, but they wouldn't fall. He felt his entire body shivering, and he felt a terrible sickness in his stomach.

"It didn't have to be this way, Hal. You made it so." Karen said in a low, dark voice.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with more pain and rage and darkness than anyone should ever know. Hal began to stand, still clutching the little girl to his aching chest. He took a step towards her, his expression crazed. But before he could say anything, an explosion of pain spread throughout his back.

Hal fell to his knees, still cradling the girl in his tired arms. His vision suddenly became blurry, and his head began to spin. He tried to move, but another electric wave of pain ripped through his body, and he let himself fall into the soothing peacefulness of the dark.