They arrived at the next safe-house within three hours. The tip of the rising sun was just visible over the desert sand, creeping its way up over the horizon. Synthetic Flame stared at the soft glow as it rose, casting a warm light over the desolate landscape. She couldn't get Cellophane Believer out of her head. The idea that some complete stranger out there was willing to give up their life to save hers baffled her. She knew that, if it were her in Cellophane's position, she wouldn't have done what she did. She didn't have the courage. She could save people, and would do anything to help them, but die? She wasn't certain how Cellophane had done it. Just standing up and facing death, even embracing it? She couldn't see it. And if she was going to die, she would much rather it be from a bullet through the head than the way Cellophane chose to go, being able to feel the pain until the very end. Flame looked up to poor Cellophane, the way she had chosen to die in order to save others. The way she had faced the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W awake and unafraid.

The safe-house came into view, but no matter how much she wanted to, Flame couldn't be happy. She'd never really felt loss. When her parents were taken away to be brainwashed and turned into Dracs, she hadn't felt the pain inside that she was feeling now. She'd pushed aside any unhappy feelings, reminding herself that it was their choice. She'd told them time and time again how they should run away with her, but they'd pushed her away, laughing at even the idea. So she'd distanced herself from her parents, knowing that it was their option, not hers. So when they went into the chamber, she felt no remorse. She took down five Dracs with a stolen gun and escaped from that hell-hole that her parents had called their 'home'.

Being on the run when you're seventeen is hard, especially when you're on your own. But Flame was never one to feel sorry for herself, even then. After a few months on living on barely anything, she met Crimson, a lively girl of sixteen. But she held a secret, a terrible, horrifying secret. But Flame never asked her about it. She didn't want to butt into Crimson's life, especially when they were such new friends.

They ran for years together, meeting other killjoys occasionally, saving people, killing others. Flame could never say she was proud of the life she'd led, but she wasn't ashamed of it either. And it was better than being a mindless slave, working for a company who was only interested in total world domination. She wanted people to be free like her. Well, she wasn't free, hadn't been for a long time. Living out in nowhere, running for your life every second of every day? That wasn't free. In a way, she felt more trapped now than she ever would have as a Drac. At least when you were a Drac, you couldn't remember anything. Couldn't remember any of the sins you'd committed, any of the lives you'd taken away. It would just be black. Nothing but black until the day you die. Unfeeling and unseeing.

Jet parked the car outside of the safe-house and the others in the back climbed out of the open door. This house was a little larger on the outside, but not by much.

The group was nearly at the door before they realized that Flame was still in the car.

"Are you coming, Flame?" Kobra asked, turning around,

"I think I'm just going to stay out here for a minute," she said softly, not looking at them, "I'll catch up with you guys,"

Kobra turned back around and entered the safe-house with the others. Flame climbed out of the car and hopped onto the roof, staring at the golden sun as it crept up over the desert sand and into the azure sky. So many thoughts filled her already crowded head. Feelings flitted around her brain, some like butterflies, some like wasps. Cellophane, running, the new friends she'd made, the old friend she'd kept, to name a few. No matter how much she thought about it though, she couldn't get her mind around any of them.

Cellophane was dead. So why couldn't Flame forget her? She'd seen other people die, people she'd known better and longer. So why could she not get this girl who she'd known for five minutes out of her mind? It just didn't make sense …

Suddenly, she felt a droplet of warm wetness fall down her face. She brought her hand up to her dusty face, and brought it away with a small teardrop dangling from her fingertip. She wiped her eyes quickly, looking around to see if anyone had seen. Flame was not the kind of girl who cried. Ever. She hadn't cried since long before 2012, and she wasn't going to make a habit out of it now.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her face. She turned to face the source of the darkness and saw Crimson smiling sadly at her. She climbed up onto the roof of the car to join Flame.

"Hey," she whispered softly, the glow from the now almost fully risen sun lighting up her pale face. Flame nodded, only half returning the smile.

"You shouldn't be afraid to cry," Crimson continued, "I'd say it's your turn. I've already cried way too much recently,"

Flame sighed heavily.

"I just don't understand it," she said, "I've never cried over someone before, and when I choose to it's over someone I've barely known for ten minutes?"

Crimson chuckled softly.

"I think it's because you're amazed at how brave she was, looking death in the face like that," she smiled sadly, "How she was so willing to let herself go, just for us,"

"I'm more stunned," Flame answered, "It's just, if I was in her position … I would have never … could have never done that. I'm just not that strong, that brave. I'm not afraid to die, don't get me wrong, but like that? Where you feel everything until the very end and walking into it knowing there's no way you're coming out alive? I'd be terrified. I wouldn't be able to do it,"

"I think she was grateful,"

"Grateful?" Flame asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it," began Crimson, "She'd somehow managed to come out of the darkness. She remembered who she was, who she used to be. And then she realized what had become. A Drac. She could have potentially killed her friends, people she knew and loved. If I were her, I don't think I would have been able to live with myself. And I don't think she could either. So, she chose her way out,"

"But why that way?" Flame said incredulously, "Why not just ask one of us to shoot her? Make it quick and clean?"

"Do you really think you could do that, Flame?" and truthfully, Flame knew she could never kill another killjoy, no matter how much they begged.

"And besides," continued Crimson, "I think she wanted to feel the pain she'd made others feel. She wanted to suffer for her sins,"

Flame could kind of understand that. If she'd been captured and turned, then somehow woken up from that dream, she would have felt the same way. But again, she felt she'd much rather die by staring down a loaded gun then at the hand of something like the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.

Suddenly, Flame remembered something Crimson had been screaming as they had fled from the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit, and it made her wonder.

"Who's Alteration?" Flame blurted out before she'd fully thought through her words. She blushed, something she rarely did.

Crimson smiled sadly.

"Alteration Lover was my sister," Crimson said sorrowfully, "Before I met you we were running together. She was killed by the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W when she was fourteen. Cellophane kind of reminded me of her,"

"Oh, Crim," Flame whispered, pulling the girl close to her, hugging her tightly, "I'm so sorry,"

"You shouldn't be," Crimson looked up into Flame's face, "I should have told you sooner,"

"No, I understand," Flame patted her black and red hair,

Crimson backed away, staring into Flame's face.

"You're my sister now," she said, smiling. Flame grinned and pulled her into a big hug.

"I love you, Crim," she whispered in her best friend's ear,

"I love you too, Flame," Flame could feel the corners of Crimson's mouth pulling up into a grin.

"Now come on," Crimson continued to smile as she pulled away, stray strands of Flame's purple hair mixing with her own, "Let's go inside,"

The two girls got up off the roof of the car and hopped onto the desert sand, walking towards the safe-house. A tear of contentment fell down Flame's face, but this time, she didn't brush it away.

*Authors Note: I know this one is kind of a filler as well, and I totally apologize, but I really wanted to get into Flame's mind, figuring out what really goes on in there, you know? So, I promise that there will be progress really soon ;) also, I would like to say a big thanks to all the people who are rating :) even just knowing that a couple of people out there like reading my story is super amazing :D so thank you guys to much :) ~Alteration xXx*