Ben awoke feeling disoriented, the previous night's events taking a moment to sink in. He cringed at the memory of his best friend's body flying toward that old oak tree like a rag doll. Realizing that Jimmy's fate was no longer any different from his own, he allowed his head to sink into his hands. When they found him, he wasn't going to be the same Jimmy Boland, not a chance in hell. He was never going to be able to understand 'normal' again. And that was if they found him, which Ben knew wasn't very likely. All he had to hold on to was hope, and so he clung to it as he forced himself out of his cot and into his black tee-shirt and jeans.

Leaving the tent, he headed toward the makeshift mess hall. He took a seat but didn't pick up a plate or anything else for that matter. The sandy haired teen couldn't bring himself to eat even if he'd wanted to, not after all the trouble he had caused. So he simply sat down at a table alone, trying to keep a low profile and not turn any heads. Already he was failing; he could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back like daggers.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Ben asked of his older brother, unable to take the patronization.

"I'm not staring," Hal answered slowly, holding up his hands in a motion of surrender.

"Yeah," Ben replied dryly, "You are. Got something to say?"

"Yeah I do," the dark-haired Mason seemed to have made the decision that erring on the side of caution was doing nothing to help his little brother.

"Easy now boys," said Weaver, looking up from his own breakfast. Hal held his younger sibling's gaze a moment longer before standing up and leaving the table.

"I'm gonna get some coffee," he said to no one in particular, grabbing his mug. Maggie followed him to the thermos that held the hot beverage.

"You okay?" she asked him. Any regular kid would've been unable to hear the conversation. Ben however, was no regular teen. His time with the Skitters had given him ears like a bat's, along with other talents, some of which he hadn't even discovered yet.

"Me? I'm fine. It's Ben I don't get." The boy in question winced a little at the mention of his name. He was beating himself enough! He didn't need his older brother's help. Hal continued. "What was he thinking? He put the whole 2nd Mass at risk." He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head slightly.

"Yeah, well, if they followed him back to the airport I'm sure we'd know by now." Maggie said soothingly, being the voice of reason.

"Oh, you're making excuses for him?" Hal lowered his voice even further, but it didn't make a difference. Ben still heard him loud and clear, word for word.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just saying…" Maggie paused and took a deep breath. "Ben's in a world of pain right now and mad dogging him like that is not gonna solve the problem," the blonde explained. Ben took in what she'd said and realized how true it was. "Give him some slack." Hal took another sip of coffee as Maggie went on. "Give yourself some slack."

Just then, Tom Mason came up behind his eldest son's scouting partner. "Any news?" he asked.

"Ben hasn't really said much," Hal replied. Not that he'd really tried, but he was supposed to be retrieving as much information relating to Jimmy's disappearance as possible and since Ben had been the only one there, he was their best bet.

"We ran into a Skitter patrol, but they were heading the other direction," Tom said as he walked a couple of steps past his middle son to Captain Weaver. "I think we're safe," he concluded.

"Yes," Weaver replied gruffly, "But for how long?"

Tom didn't respond, but turned to Ben instead. He held out a square object attached to a ripped piece of cloth. The boy stuck his hand out to take it and felt his heart lurch as he realized what it was. "The compass," Tom supplied, unnecessarily. "Give it to Jimmy when we get him back?"

Ben gripped it tightly and found himself smiling at the memories the compass held, until he remembered all of the baggage that it now came with. He absent-mindedly tapped it against his head, contemplating all of the mistakes he'd made of late. Hal was right. What had he been thinking? Ben stood up and left the table as Dr. Glass approached. Maybe it would have been better if Jimmy had just gotten killed. Then he wouldn't feel like he had entirely, single handedly, ruined the rest of the kid's life.

Unable to handle seeing anybody else, especially when they looked at him with such accusing eyes, Ben headed off to the place where he knew he could be alone: the exact spot where Jimmy had been taken. Sitting on top of the log that he'd been hiding behind just one night before, Ben shut his eyes and allowed the awful thoughts to play over and over like a movie in his head. Minutes turned into hours, but he had no idea. It felt good just sitting by himself. So good that time had become a foreign concept to him. He didn't even notice the temperature beginning to drop from its already cold state and the sky darkening as the sun set. A familiar rumble brought him out of his stupor. Though he hadn't heard it in a while, he recognized the sound enough to instinctively look to the sky. It wasn't like the consistent whir of the alien's high tech beamers, but something completely different. A small red airplane was zooming oddly close to the ground and heading straight toward the airport where the 2nd Mass was holding up camp. Ben scrambled to his feet. Who knew what kind of thing was inside of that plane? How were they flying with all the beamers around? How had they not been shot down? Maybe they could help him find Jimmy? They could be bringing word of hope.

A huge crowd of people had already gathered around the bright red machine. A blonde girl who reminded Ben of a slightly sunnier and older version of Maggie emerged. Weaver had immediately begun to question her. Though Ben was unable to catch all of the conversation—there was too much chatter going on among the congregation—he was able to gather that she'd come looking for the 2nd Mass. Apparently she was from somewhere in South Carolina and she was in search of survivors. Most promising of all the things she said, however, was the news of a centralized government. Ben knew that this could mean great things for the human race if it wasn't a trap. He also knew it meant leaving any chance of finding his best friend far behind. Of course, either way he knew they would be leaving the airport. Weaver had plans to head north. This was just another bump in the never ending road of problems. Any faith Ben had been holding out for Jimmy was shrinking by the second. Time wasn't on his side in the slightest.

As usual, he took off. His presence had been noticed and people were starting their typical whispers and unsure glances. He was headed for the med bus to grab disinfectant for the cut above his brow, as well as peace and quiet. Fifteen minutes passed as the confused teen sat alone, fiddling with Jimmy's compass, fifteen minutes he had been left to yet again run the previous night through his mind as well as all of the times he had spent with his best friend. Silence was finally broken when his father clunked up the bus's stairs and back to stand behind his son.

"Where'd you go?" the concerned father asked, skipping the formalities of a hello.

"Nowhere," Ben answered without looking up. "Just walking around, staring at Jimmy's compass. A few months back, he got separated from the 2nd Mass. It took two days to find him again, so Weaver gave him this compass, so that he could always find his way home. How is he supposed to find his way home now, Dad?"

"Don't blame yourself for this," Tom said quickly.

"Everyone else does," the boy replied quietly.

"That's not true."

"I see the way everyone looks at me," Ben finally looked up at his father; his eyes were glazing over with tears that weren't quite ready to fall. "Hal, Matt, even you."

"No,' the father's brow furrowed in sympathy.

"Fine. Whatever. But don't think I wouldn't trade places with him in an instant. He shouldn't have to go through what I have."

"I'm sure that you would," Tom answered quietly, staring down at his son, in pain along with him. "Just like there isn't a day goes by that I don't wish and pray that your mother was still alive and, uh," he paused, "it sucks, really sucks. Sometimes you think that you can't go on. Except, you don't have a choice but to go on. And the good news is: we've got each other to get through a lousy situation. The bad news is…" he stopped again and looked down expectantly at his son.

"It's a lousy situation," they muttered in unison.

"Alright," said Tom. "You should start packing up for the move. I think Weaver's gonna have us heading for Charleston instead of the Catskills. He called me to a meeting earlier to talk about it." Ben nodded but didn't move. He watched as his father left the Med bus and waited a little while longer before leaving himself.

It took him no longer than thirty minutes to pack up his bag and realize that he had left Jimmy's compass sitting in the med bus. It took him even less than that to realize that it wasn't in there at all.

"Have you packed?" Ben heard his father's voice from behind him. "I got the official order. We're leaving for Charleston after a final sweep for Jimmy."

"Yeah," Ben mumbled in reply, digging through Anne's drawers full of medical supplies for the third time.

"What's wrong?"

"Jimmy's compass," Ben replied, holding his hand to his mouth and searching the Med bus with his eyes one last time before accepting that it, like Jimmy, was gone. "It's gone." The boy, recognizing the knowing look on his father's face, relaxed a little. "What?" he asked.

"I think I know where it is," Tom explained.

"Where?"

"Pope."

The teen gave a slight nod of his head, knowing exactly what his dad meant. He moved aside as his father pushed passed him and left the med bus close behind him, though he had no intention of following him.

When Ben awoke from the few dreadful hours of sleep he had gotten he headed for the playground less than a click away from the airport. He and Jimmy had hung out around there a couple of times since they'd gotten to the hanger. Those Dragon's Breath rounds weren't the only thing Jimmy had been able to swipe from the Berserkers. He'd managed to get a hold of a couple of Pope's six packs as well. When it got down to it, the two boys were nothing more than teenagers. They'd wanted to be reckless, break the law, rebel against authority. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face as he remembered the nights that they had spent, hardly sober, ranting about the way things had been before.

He kicked an empty beer can and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Taking a seat on one of the swings he pumped his legs and allowed the cool, winter wind to blow through his hair. A slightly bow legged man swaggered up and joined the teenager.

"You know you're no good at staying put?" said the man's gruff voice. When the boy didn't respond, Weaver continued. "He was like my son, Ben. We're going to get him back."

"How do you know?" asked the hurting teen as he looked up at his commanding officer.

"I don't," answered Weaver's weather-worn voice. "But I do know that he's one hell of a kid and he won't go down without a fight."

"Once you're with them…it doesn't really matter if you're a fighter or not."

"Be that as it may, I need you to promise me that something like this will never happen again."

"Yes, sir." Ben mumbled.

"You are aware that both you and Jimmy disobeyed direct orders?" Weaver chastised.

"I know," Ben's voice was barely above a whisper.

"If it happens again…" the captain's voice trailed off. "Your dad got the compass back from Pope." He pulled the object out of his inside jacket pocket and held it out to Ben.

"No," Ben said shaking his head. "It's yours."

"Jimmy's." Weaver corrected.

"He'd want you to have it until he gets back."

Weaver nodded."My father gave me this when I was Eagle Scout," he said turning it over in his hands. "I always meant to give it to my daughter, Jeanne, but I never got a chance. Thanks."

"Yeah," the teen shook his head with his eyes downcast. "It sure came in handy for Jimmy."

"That it did," replied Weaver. "He's a good soldier, that boy, but he has no sense of direction."

"No, sir, he does not." Ben smiled despite himself before his face went grim again. "Do you think he'll find his way back to us?"

"He found his way home once before. I'm sure he will again. Head back to camp, Ben. We'll be leaving for Charleston by night fall."

The teenager got up from the swing but froze once he'd left the mulched area of the playground. Weaver turned back and looked at him.

"Ben?" he took a step towards the teenager, whose lower lip had begun to tremble.

"I-I'm sorry," his voice was shaky as he broke down for the first time since the events of the other night.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, son." Before Weaver could do anything to stop him, Ben had lowered his wet-with-tears face into his commander's chest. "We're going to be fine," he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around the teenager.

"I'm sorry," the boy repeated.

"I've got to get back to camp," Weaver said taking Ben by the shoulders and pushing him back. He looked the boy right in the eye. "We're going to be fine. Alright? We're going to be fine."

Something told Ben to stay behind as Weaver left for the airport to make sure everything was packed and ready. As night began to fall a greenish-brown terror with one red eye emerged from the wooded area surrounding the playground. He felt the air being forced out of his lungs and he was pushed onto his back by the slimy hands of the Skitter as the static in his head became unbearably loud. Just as it had the night before, a tingling in the back of his neck told him that his spikes were doing something abnormal as the ground took on a strange bluish glow.

A flash of color dashed in front of Ben's eyes, followed by another and then another; painting a blurred image. A boy with frighteningly crystal blue eyes lay, face down, arms and legs strapped to a table. His face was contorting and blood was dripping down the right side of his cheek.

"Help me," the voice murmured, all strength gone out of it. "Somebody? Ben?"

The grip on Ben's subconscious tightened as he watched a sluggish, leech-like creature slither onto Jimmy's back. A single tear fell from the young boy's eye as the Harness dug its needle sharp claws into his back. The image gradually faded away, as did the wound on the back of Jimmy's head, the harnesses effects already taking hold. Then it all went dark and nothing but black surrounded him. A voice filled the void, though it did not speak a word, somehow it had managed to break the silence and communicate.

"I had to do it," the creature whispered. Ben could understand the alien. He couldn't see and he couldn't hear but it was as though the beast was inside of him; thinking for him. "It was the only way. They need to trust in us, though we do not trust in them. A minute tribe of my kind is not as susceptible to the effects of the harness. I need you to understand that I mean you no harm, Benjamin Mason. I wish to help your cause. We have come to believe that your race's resistance is our most plausible chance of survival. Help us and we will help you."

The crawler released its grip on Ben's mind and sight returned slowly to the teenage boy. He gasped in deep breaths of air as he watched the Skitter disappear into the coverage of the forest.

"Ben!" called the familiar voice of his older brother. "You out here?"

"I'm over here." he replied mindlessly.

19 minutes agoThe rumble of Hal's bike drew nearer as the older teenager approached his little brother. Distress was evident on the younger boy's face as Hal drew up beside him. He looked at Ben quizzically. "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," he lied and nodded his head slightly, though it was clear he was far from alright. "Let's go." He took one final look around the playground and into the woods that the red-eyed Skitter had escaped into before climbing onto the back of his brother's motorcycle.

AN: I'm so sorry guys for the long update time! I'm currently writing two other stories and they can be quite distracting. I would like to give a huge shout out to Ebi Pers for editing this for me. I can guarantee you that it wasn't half as good as it is now before he took a look at it for me. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter. We head to harnessing facilities next time. What fun!