Marcus was already regretting this whole situation.

Of course he had known himself well enough to know that would be the case the moment he made the offer to Rosie, but that didn't lesson the feeling any.

Obviously, there was no way in the world he'd ever abandon her or kick her out, certainly not with a full island lockdown now in effect. He was perfectly willing to violate that in order to get her home, had she so wished, but he was glad she hadn't opted for that. Odds were that she would have been in far more trouble than he had they been caught doing that particular option and that was something Marcus also couldn't abide by.

He was stuck with her for the next few days and he would just have to live with what he was programmed to do.

Marcus knew his neighborhood in Iroquois Point as well as he knew himself. Every house within a mile had long since been fully, systematically categorized based on its condition and what it contained in the way of supplies or other objects of any use.

During the evacuation fifteen years prior, the former residents hadn't had time to take much with him and here most of it remained. Anything that hadn't been taken by scavengers or by Marcus himself was, depending on the condition of the house that contained it, more or less intact.

It was a real shame, really. Marcus had long ago raised the point to General Carter that there was a lot of viably useful things left in Iroquois Point that could be distributed among the remaining residents of Hawaii, but he had been met with sound rejection on his proposal from the Air Force.

There were so few people left on Hawaii, compared to how many there had been before the invasion, that generally speaking everyone had what they needed and Iroquois Point and everything on it (Marcus included himself) were redundant. Marcus had hoped any survivors left who may have lived here before the invasion could return to gather what was theirs, but it occurred to him that most of them were likely long gone.

In the end, like a lot of things on Oahu, it ultimately didn't matter and the neighborhood became free game to Marcus and anyone brave or stupid enough to violate the no trespassing order and scavenge around.

Marcus and Rosie were now in a house down the street from his residence, in a home (that was in really good condition compared to others nearby) that Marcus had long ago noted a couple of teenage girls had likely lived in, so there were clothes and maybe other feminine necessities that Rosie might need to make her stay with him some measure of comfortable.

Over breakfast (bacon and fried eggs, the only thing Marcus was any good at making for breakfast) Marcus had proposed this little adventure and Rosie had jumped at the chance, saying that she wanted to explore Iroquois Point further, finding the abandoned neighborhood, in her words, fascinating.

The morning and early afternoon were the best times to rummage about the neighborhood for supplies, given that the sun was as bright as it was going to get during the day. This made it easy, generally, to navigate in electricity deficient homes. Even still, Marcus collected several of the numerous flashlights he had in his possession and had issued one to Rosie to assist further. He had also found a backpack among his collection of various bags and had given it to her as well to transport anything she might find

He sat now in a living room recliner while Rosie looked around a bedroom upstairs, hunting for anything that might prove useful to her.

This was nice, because sitting down was the best way to keep the pain in his left leg and back from flaring up too much, but it was also a detriment because it offered him unencumbered time to think.

And, of course, he was thinking about Rosie.

He had been rather concerned when she had blurted out that she didn't want him to be alone and was even more concerned about her bizarre use of emotional blackmail to force him into saying he wanted her to stay with him, even though the only thing he really wanted was for her to be safe, the location best suited for which in the entire area being totally coincidental and somewhat (in Marcus's view) unfortunate.

What was this girl playing at? What was her endgame? Why did she care whether or not Marcus was alone or not? She knew nothing about him. Literally. She had no idea who he was or what he had done, or anything about his 'hero' status on Oahu.

Marcus once again thought briefly that she might be some sort of mental case, but her I.D. would have contained a disclaimer had that been the case. He could only conclude that she was just a little off. She seemed harmless enough; certainly not a danger to him, he thought. Though, even still, this was one of the reasons he had refused the military's offer to transport her home with them. Her story still seemed a little odd and he really didn't want her to ultimately get in any trouble.

Then he thought about her parents. He knew perfectly what it was like to lose someone to violence. She had even said she had withdrew from everyone. Maybe that's why she was the way she was; just a little off. She seemed really sweet and even a little timid at times and it was, of course, obvious that she was smart. Just very eccentric.

Marcus dearly hoped he wouldn't say or do anything to upset her for the duration of her stay, but he had no idea if he would be able to accomplish that. He wasn't the most pleasant person in the world these days.

At any rate he was stuck with her for a little while. It looked like he would have to set up a more permanent, more comfortable sleeping situation under his truck.

He also wondered when he'd get around to ask a question that had bothered him since the moment he had first run into her: Just what was she doing out on Iroquois Point in the first place?

"Marcus?" Rosie called from the second floor landing at the top of the stairs. "I think I'm just about done."

He looked up. She was wearing denim short shorts and a faded black T-shirt representing some band that he had never heard of and likely didn't exist anymore. She had tied her hair into a simple ponytail using what looked like a strand of blue ribbon.

Trying very hard to not think about her appearance, Marcus nonchalantly replied. "Find everything you need?" Of course the prettiest girl on Oahu would just wander into the path of his life. Of course.

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I should be all set. I grabbed enough stuff for at least a week."

"Yeah, I can wash clothes, you know. If you have three outfits we can make it work indefinitely."

"So, you're inviting me over indefinitely?" Her grin turned to one of sly amusement.

"Nope!" Marcus replied sardonically, matching her grin.

"Do you want that table?" she asked, glancing to the one in the center of the room that Marcus was sitting in.

"Yeah, it's inoffensive enough. Matches my home layout perfectly, at any rate."

"What layout?"

"Exactly."

Rosie glided downstairs, backpack swung over one shoulder, and she sat on a small couch opposite Marcus, as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back in order to avoid staring at her.

"Do you want help moving this?" Rosie asked, regarding the table.

"Oh, no," Marcus said, "I'll just get Sully or someone to help me whenever the next patrol comes over to bother me. Shouldn't be too terribly long, even with the lockdown. I was actually expecting a supply run in a few days, though that's likely canceled due to a mild case of pending Fog, may God help us all."

"What do you think the Fog ship is here for?" Rosie asked.

"Couldn't tell you," Marcus opened his eyes and accepted the inevitable: that he would have to, over the next few days, look at this girl at some point. "Have you heard any new rumors about the Fog?"

"Rumors like what?" Rosie cocked her head a little and her ponytail danced over her shoulder at the sudden motion of her head.

"Well, word is the Fog, at least some of the bigger ships have rolled out some form of avatar. Like, a robot or cyborg or some goddamn thing for some goddamn reason."

"No," Rosie blinked. "I hadn't heard that. Why would they do that?"

"I don't even know if they are doing that," Marcus shrugged. "It's just a rumor making the rounds at Pearl Harbor-Hickam, supposedly. Just wondered if it was also floating around among the civilians of the island. I don't exactly have any fingers on the pulse of this place, as you could well understand."

"Nor do I," Rosie said quietly. "I don't really... talk to many people."

Marcus sighed a little to himself. "Well, I would encourage you to change that, but I guess it would be a little hypocritical of me to say."

"It certainly would," Rosie agreed flatly, pulling no punches.

"Ouch," Marcus muttered, struggling to his feat and leaning on his cane. "You good?"

"Yes," Rosie stood up as well and followed Marcus to the front door. "What's the plan now?"

"Oh, other than my own boring routine we don't have much in the way of plans out here. I said you could stay for a few days; I didn't say that you'd have fun."

Rosie giggled a little as the pair made their way out into the brightly shining sun and onto the paved street and headed in the direction of home.

"Hey, Marcus..?" she said after a few steps.

"What's on your mind?" he replied, lighting up a cigarette.

"Well," she started, seeming to have trouble finding the words. "What if the Fog really are forming... avatars? What does that mean, you think?"

Marcus just shrugged. "I couldn't even begin to tell you. Honestly, if they could, that's what I would do, I guess, for a few reasons."

"Like what?"

"Well, firstly it'd be a good way to spy, I'd imagine... Though, now that I think of it, I don't know why they'd even bother doing that. Spying implies one is gathering intelligence in order to help hurt their enemy. Like, they need said information. The Fog could wipe us out whenever they wanted, regardless of any information they might gather. They just don't seem to want to fuck us up further, God knows why."

Marcus took a deep inhale on his cigarette, giving it further thought. "You know what, never mind. I have no fucking idea what purpose it serves, from their point of view."

He took another couple of hobbled steps before looking to Rosie. "Why, you have any theories? You seem relatively interested in them."

Rosie smiled. "I've been interested in the Fog for years. They're a fascinating conundrum. What if they did it to understand us, humanity, better?"

Marcus thought on that for a moment. "That's a interesting thought, but again, I can't see why that'd be practical. They don't need to know us any better than they already seem to in order to beat the hell out of us. Whatever their objective is, they're obviously accomplishing it just fine. I can't see why having an avatar would help."

"Maybe we'll never know," Rosie trailed off.

"Yeah, never knowing is the state I'm used to living in. I just try to worry about one day to the next. Try not to think too far ahead because who knows how far ahead you have. That's the Oahu way, after all. We should probably put a motto like that on our fucking flag."

"But you're young!" Rosie seemed startled. "You have your whole life ahead of you. Isn't there something you want to do in the future?"

Marcus laughed. "You know, I'd warn you that what I'm going to say is horribly cynical, but I've said so much cynical and terrible shit already and you've seemed pretty undeterred thus far, so I'm not even going to bother editing myself or warning you."

"Please don't. I want to hear what you actually think."

"Oh, so what I think matters now?"

"In this particular scenario, yes."

"Because you say so?"

"Yes."

Marcus laughed even louder this time, as his house came into view around the bend in the road. "It'll be a good day when I figure out what I think that does and doesn't matter to you."

"Maybe you'll get there someday," she smiled. "Wouldn't that be something to look forward to?"

Marcus sighed, after a minute or so of silence. "If you must know, to answer your question, no, not really. I look forward to the next day and I look forward to scheduled things like supply runs. That's about it."

Rosie looked crestfallen. "There's nothing you want to do?"

"No," Marcus said, opening the gate and waving his hand in front of Rosie to invite her in first.

"That's... sad..." The expression on Rosie's face plainly reflected that her feelings on the matter matched her words.

"Yeah, well sometimes sad's just in the cards. You grew up on Oahu. You've lost people. You probably understand."

"There's always something to be happy about."

"Yes," Marcus agreed, wondering where she was possibly going with this. "I'm happy enough to be alive. I get to live the way I want, which on Oahu is kind of a big deal. I mean, you don't hear me complaining, do you?"

"Well, no..."

"Then don't worry about it," Marcus said, climbing the set of stairs to the front porch and spiking the spent cigarette in the designated pot. "Don't worry about me. Just worry about you."

The remainder of the day went by fairly uneventfully. Marcus was able to keep to his workout routine of core exercises and biking on a machine (his exercise room was one of the bedrooms of the large, five bedroom house, re-purposed for this), neither of which hurt him too terribly much to do. He had shown Rosie his large library of books (in another bedroom) and had told her she could read whatever she wanted, before he had taken a shower. Given that he knew the poor girl was going to likely be bored out of her mind as her stay went on and Marcus had little intention of spending every waking moment she was here with her, he figured it would be best if there were things she could occupy herself with without needing him.

He had cautioned her strongly against leaving the property without him and she had agreed without too much fuss. He also promised that they would go out and about Iroquois Point every day, which was perfectly consistent with his routine, anyway.

Maybe having a girl around wouldn't jack up his happily lonely and set routine too much.

Then again, who was he kidding.

Marcus and Rosie sat now at the table on his back deck as the sun began it's nightly descent. It was dinner time and Marcus, not feeling remotely like cooking, opted to just throw MREs at the problem.

"I would highly recommend the Cheese Tortellini," Marcus said, slapping down the two MREs he had collected from his good sized stockpile on the wooden table. "It's easily my favorite one."

"Well, then won't you want it?" Rosie asked, obviously trying to be polite.

"Psh," Marcus waved her off. "I've eaten hundreds of them. Literally. I think I can go without one for one night. Plus, you're my guest! And I think you're supposed to be nice to guests, or something..."

Rosie laughed and smiled at him. "You really aren't very good at this, are you?"

"Lady, you have no idea," Marcus deadpanned. "I'm surprised I remembered to not feed you bleach. Or I haven't lit you on fire trying to light a cigarette or something."

Rosie giggled. "So, are you just not good with girls, or with guests in general?"

"Either, I guess. I've actually never had a single person out here that stayed more than a couple hours."

"So, I'm special, huh?" Rosie asked, that sly twinkle in her eye as she reached for the MRE Marcus had recommended and began trying to open it.

"Circumstantially special," Marcus said, waving to the Pacific. "You can thank our friend the Fog for that."

"Well, thank you, Marcus-"

"Nope," Marcus cut her off. "Don't thank me. I mean it... And here, let me get that for you."

Marcus opened her MRE and handed it back to her.

"The individual packets are easier to open," Marcus assured her, opening his own MRE which was the Chili and Macaroni, easily his third favorite kind. "You want the main course heated?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I want to see how that works!"

So, Marcus proceeded to show her how the flameless, self heating packet worked. He opened the heating packet, placed the main course packet into it and filled it to the designated line with water from his old, beat up water bottle and let science take over.

"How does it work, exactly?" Rosie asked, clearly fascinated.

"That's above my pay grade," Marcus smiled a little. "If it doesn't involve shooting things, I'm a little out of my element."

He regretted saying that as soon as it left his mouth.

Rosie turned to him looking shocked and saddened.

"Shit," he muttered. "Sorry... Bad joke... Most of the socializing I've had my entire life has been with military people and that's just how we talk. I'm not used to having more civilized company."

"Or company at all," Rosie said, quietly.

"Or that, yeah."

This was going to be a long few days. Marcus didn't know how long he could keep up this fair to poor charade of hospitality. Sooner or later, he was going to say something or do something that was going to horribly offend or upset this girl. He wished that wasn't the case, but he knew himself well enough to know that it was an inevitability. And the longer she stayed, the higher the chance of this became.

"Marcus...?" Rosie asked, with a small voice. "You said you'd fought in a lot of battles-"

"I don't want to talk about it," he responded firmly.

"But you just-"

"I know what I said. It was a bad joke and I'm sorry I said it."

"Marcus-"

"No," he snapped, before sighing, and wiping a hand over his face. "I don't talk about it. That's all."

There were several minutes of woefully awkward silence, as Marcus extracted Rosie's main course from the heating packet and opened it, before handing it to her. He drank several large gulps of whiskey as he did this, knowing it was the best thing to mellow him out a little.

"Enjoy!" he said, before picking up his own meal and eating it without heating it, like the neanderthal he was, he amusingly noted to himself.

"Thank you," Rosie accepted the cheese tortellini and took a bite. She smiled. "It's really good!"

"Told you!" Marcus agreed. "Number thirteen: Cheese Tortellini. By far the best one. Vegetarian friendly too, if that sort of thing concerns you."

"It doesn't." She took another bite.

"A true Oahu resident," Marcus smiled. "Eat whatever you can get your hands on."

"Marcus?" Rosie asked between bites. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Wait, what now?" Marcus asked, dumbfounded.

"I'm just curious," Rosie said innocently, blinking her eyes and generally looking adorable.

Well, Marcus could really see no reason to lie to her. "Yes. A couple times. One serious one, which was the last one."

"How did it end?"

"Not well," Marcus shrugged. "She's still around Oahu somewhere. Has a family of her own now and is doing fine, as far as I know."

Rosie took another bite and seemed to think on this information. This, coupled with the fact that she had brought up his former relationships, gave Marcus the inspiration and the moment he needed to broach a topic that he had been wondering all day how to bring up.

"Hey," he started, putting his whiskey glass down and leaning back in his chair. Rosie looked up at him. "I was told by my friend today that, apparently the continental states have their shit together so well, that they've manufactured submarines that can cruise right past the Fog without them knowing. Yeah! I'm amazed myself. They plan on starting to evacuate Hawaii sometime in the next couple months. I asked my friend if I can get some of the people I know on the first sub out and I was wondering if you would want that? You said you don't have any family or friends, so I think, honestly, you should really consider it."

Rosie's eyes widened for moment, before she took a few slow breaths, likely thinking of how to respond. "Well, it's for people you know, right? You don't really know me."

Marcus laughed. "I know you better than I do most people on Oahu, trust me. Plus, even if I had never met you and simply asked them to put you on that first trip, they would, no questions asked."

"Aren't you leaving? Surely they asked you?" Rosie tilted her head.

"Ordered, more like," Marcus confirmed. "But thankfully I persuaded them otherwise. I'm not going anywhere."

"Why not?"

"Why does everyone ask why I want to stay here?" Marcus asked exasperatedly to no one in particular before taking another gulp of whiskey. He noted he would need to refill the glass soon.

"Probably because they find it a little strange," Rosie answered. "I know I do."

Marcus sighed. "I guess I can understand that. But this is my home. Oahu, this house, all of it. This is where I belong."

"Why?"

"Jesus H. Jesus," Marcus muttered. "You and your questions... Tell you what, by sometime tomorrow I'm going to come up with a list of shit I don't want you to pester me about and I would really appreciate it if you'd respect that."

Marcus got up with his usual slow struggle and picked up his glass. "Would you like more water?"

"No, thank you. I'm almost done eating, anyway," Rosie replied softly, looking towards the Pacific.

Marcus made his way through the sliding door and to the kitchen where he refilled his tall glass to the brim with fresh ice and Jack Daniel's.

Yeah, this was certainly shaping up to be a long few days, he thought to himself, taking another large gulp and relishing the familiar, comforting burn on his throat as the whiskey made it to his stomach and began doing its job making his existence just that much more bearable.

Author's Note:

Sorry about the delay... I've just started in on chapter seventeen, and it's proving to be very difficult to write. I had issues with sixteen as well. Given the subject matter involved, I'm having a hard time getting the tone I want just right and on seventeen the dialogue (something I hadn't had any issues with before) is proving problematic. I'm hoping that with eighteen, where things are going to pick up substantially, the story will flow a little better. I have four chapters ready after I post this one and at some point I'm hoping to have five staged at all times, because that's the best way that I've found to edit them, plus it's a great way to work on detail consistency as well.
Anyway, thanks again for all of your support and being patient with the beginning of this story, where character development on my leads is, in my opinion, the absolute most important thing. I want everyone to have a very good idea who these two are before I start throwing things at them.

Find My Way, by Nine Inch Nails