DISCLAIMER:

I do not own Sym-Bionic Titan. If I did, it would not have been cancelled due to lack of merchandise.

My brain is so dead right now. I'm slowly reviving it with Muse. I had my math final earlier today, and I surprised myself- B+, and I maintained my A, yay! That's pretty good, considering I only got about five hours of sleep… and thanks especially to A Necessary Production for the advice (and, of course, the awesome review- that made my day XD)! Thank goodness it's the weekend… Anyway, enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW! I know a lot of you are reading this and thinking, "yeah, whatever", but it only takes two seconds at the bottom- just type the review and hit "send"- nothing to it. I've checked the traffic on this story, and over all there have been about fifty people who read at least one chapter. I have, like, six reviews right now, which I am very grateful for, but guys…that's 3/25. Or, roughly estimated, about 1/5. Pleeeaaassseee it takes several hours to write one of these, it takes two minutes or less to review… ANYWAY, enjoy (and review)!

Chapter 5

Ilana peeked into the living room.

He was there, of course. Where else would he be? Just as he had been here for the past five hours, and just as he would most certainly be here for the next five, he was here now, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his sister. He was still staring off into space, just as he had been since the last time she checked on him… she checked her watch. Two minutes ago. She couldn't help it, she was worried. Within the course of three hours, he had experienced so much, one after another. Of course, they all had, but with him, it was different. It all seemed blurred and at the same time clearer than anything she had ever experienced. Quick: alien visitor, from Galaluna, monster following, don't forget, don't forget. Monster fighting Galalunian, they can't help, it sees them, it heads towards Lance. Can't fast-forward, watch in silence in your head- the orange suit jumps in front of Lance, monster is killed, the orange is pierced. But, no, no, it's not the orange anymore- a small girl, a young girl, falling into Lance's arms. Lance, in pain, so much pain, all on his face. In living room now, she's dying, they're crying, she's getting worse. And then…

Ilana blinked. How odd, my thoughts are all discombobulated, she thought. They had been reading Fahrenheit 451 in class, and Bradbury's style seemed to be rubbing off on her. She walked over and sat down on the floor next to Lance. The sofa had been moved closer to the fireplace, which was turned on. At first Lance had objected to this: she had seemed hot enough already, a thin sheen of sweat covering her face. Octus, however, had insisted it was necessary for her to heal, so Lance had grudgingly agreed.

She looked at him again. He was absent-mindedly stroking his sister's hand in his, needing to feel the warmth of their skin together. It appeared to be the only thing keeping him from detaching from his body completely at this point. She thought back just a couple of hours, when they thought they'd lose her…

"Please", she heard him whisper.

And the funniest thing happened- the wounded little girl seemed to hear him. Octus reported immediately that the drugs seemed to be taking effect, but Ilana knew better. It seemed as if his sister was making a statement: well, I suppose if you use the magic word, I can't resist. At that moment, though, it had been hard to think of her making a joke. At the worst point, her face was constantly spasming, sweat dripping down her face in rivulets. Her blood flow had increased, and Octus was constantly working to change the bandages. It had gradually gotten better, but at such a painfully slow rate that it really didn't seem as if anything really was. But, of course, it had, and the relief on Lance's face was obvious. He cried again- but these tears contained none of the earlier pain. Of course, he was still extremely worried about her and wouldn't leave her side (with the exception of relieving himself). But, no, these tears were full of something else. Not quite joy, exactly. Those tears would come in time- these tears were tears of relief. Relief and love for a second chance at something that's power is greater than your own…

Ilana smiled gently. Her heart ached pleasantly to see him so passionate about something that had so much life. Such deep emotions for someone you love is a wonderful thing, Ilana thought, unconsciously glancing once again at Lance. She felt herself blush for no particular reason other than looking at his face and those far-off eyes.

Octus didn't know when she would wake up. He had told them that at the beginning, once the bleeding had slowed down. The bandages only needed changing about every half hour now. Lance had looked up, but he wasn't looking at them. He was looking far away, his eyes going through them. For a second he focused on them and managed to mumble a "thanks", but he was gone again before they could respond. Ilana and Octus had given him some space, but once they were in the hallway upstairs, Octus had turned to her. "I am going to go through some files and see if there is anything on Lance's sister. I've got one so far, but it's only her birth certificate. I'll be doing it on my way to the pod. She had to have brought some things, and I am going to try to retrieve them before Solomon and G3 gets there. Her vitals are normal, and it'll only take a second. If she starts bleeding again, there's some bandages next to the couch. You and Lance know what to do."

Ilana agreed and told him to be safe. He had been, of course- he had come back with only the main Galalunian tech from the pod (all of it in one compactible circuit) and a bag that must have been Lance's sister's.

Ilana thought of ways to bring Lance back. Should she crack a joke? No, of course not. She shut down the idea immediately- that was definitely not appropriate at this time. Looking at him again, she wondered if she should bring him out of his reverie.

She looked at the girl on the couch, and then looked at Lance. She smiled softly, and looked back at the girl. "She looks like you ", she whispered. She could feel Lance's gaze shift to her, and she flushed slightly. Apparently he hadn't been as far away as she had originally thought…

He looked at her and frowned. "I don't see it…" Ilana hadn't lied, though. They did look alike, but not in the way that most people did. They weren't the same in the twin sense- not the same features or tones, to be exact, but you could see each other in them. His sister wasn't exactly petite, per se, but she definitely wasn't large, either. She had a small frame, but regular body mass. No ridiculous diets like the cheerleaders here just to look skinny, Ilana thought. There was hardly any fat, though- mostly muscle. Not all ripped like Lance or anything, but…toned? Ilana couldn't quite describe it. Perhaps a swimmer's build. She had a nice figure, too- perfect proportions. Her waist didn't blow out like Barb's (Ilana didn't even know how that was possible)- they slimmed out perfectly. She also had slim but toned legs- like a runner. They weren't smooth, though- and her feet could definitely use a pedicure. Make that a mani-pedi, thought Ilana. Both her hands and her feet had a graceful and sturdy build, so it wasn't the shape. Her nails were cracked and dirty, just as Ilana's had looked shortly after their arrival at Sherman. She looks like she's been through a war. Then the reality hit her- she had. Lance's sister had come from Galaluna, where the war was raging. Ilana forced herself to concentrate on more of the girl's features. Her arms were sturdy but feminine, and her neck was gracefully slim. She was wearing a necklace that Ilana couldn't see, as it disappeared under her shirt. Basically, her whole body was perfectly built for a woman in combat, without forgetting either component.

Then Ilana came upon her face, and felt a twinge of jealousy. Despite the fact that it was caked with blood, sweat, and dirt (Lance had wiped off the Mutraddi guts carefully), she was still beautiful. With a perfect complexion, a pretty nose, perfect eye shape, feminine lips, and only a few freckles dotting her cheeks, she kind of gave Ilana inferiority complex for a moment. Looking at her hair, Ilana was mesmerized. Even grimy from her trans-galaxy trip, her hair was beautiful. It was cropped short (shorter than Lance's), but not a pixie cut. Even though there was only a little of it, it seemed to dance in the firelight. Somehow, she had inherited a beautiful, glimmering red hair that had light streaks of blonder shades as well as a little brunette thrown in there. The most beautiful part, though, were the amber streaks in her hair that made it take the flame from the fireplace and create its own hearth around her head. Ilana remembered that there had recently been a lot of talk at Sherman High about a series- "The Hungry Games"? Something like that, and if Ilana hadn't known that Lance's sister had only just entered this galaxy, she could have sworn that the "girl on fire" in it that she had heard about was modeled after her hair.

"What? No", Ilana joked. "I thought you would have seen it in the hair for sure." Lance looked at her and smirked. "So, you're finally getting the hang of sarcasm." Ilana shrugged and looked back at his sister. "What's she like?" She asked softly.

His face fell. "I honestly don't know. It's been so long." Ilana looked at him softly, a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "How long?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The pain flashed back to his face. He looked at her, and she could see that it hurt him to remember.

But he did so anyway…

His first words caught her attention. "When my mother died…" Neither of them had ever talked of their mothers- it was a touchy subject for the both of them. Lance hesitated. "When she died, it was a bad time for my family. My dad became more and more absorbed in his work, trying to block out the pain. She and I didn't have that option. We relied on each other for support. A couple of months before mom passed away, I had been complaining about how I didn't want to share a room anymore. Our house was fairly small- dad hadn't moved up in the science world yet, and his pay was just enough to keep us afloat. After I had been nagging them for a couple of months, they finally did some home renovation and managed to convert the walk- in closet into what would become my new bedroom." He chuckled sadly, a gleam of nostalgia in his eyes. "I remember them moving all of their clothes into the closet in our study. But then, when she died, I moved back in with my sister. All of mom's stuff was moved into my old bedroom. At nights, we would quietly move the beds together and talk about mom. Sometimes one of us would close our eyes and the other would recount a story that she used to tell us, and for just a moment mom was alive again. We'd talk about her cooking, and the spotted shirt that she loved so much but looked terrible in, and all of her little quirks that we had never noticed before but found we missed. The way she would tuck our hair behind our ears or how she always insisted that we made our beds or how she tucked us in at night, or even just how she was always there for us. Some nights we didn't talk about her at all. We just cried together, and whether dad heard his six year old son and four year old daughter crying alone at night, I we never knew. We always moved the beds back in the morning." Lance chuckled once more. "It made us pretty buff."

Some part of Ilana's brain registered their ages- six and four, Lance was two years older than his sister- so she was fourteen now. Mostly, though, she was concentrating on his story. Her eyes started watering up as he continued. "By now, dad had been promoted numerous times. He would come home around two, and we would be done by then. We would sleep for about three hours and wake up when he came home. He might have missed mom, but he still loved us very much- we would gather around the table, sometimes with cookies and milk, and talk about our days. We still had a chance at happiness then." Lance's eyes were far away now, eating cookies and drinking milk with his family, remembering times full of opportunity.

She didn't want to break him out of his reverie. He looked almost at peace, but she needed him to finish. "What happened?"

He came back to her, his memories back in his mind. The look on his face told her that the next events were dark and lonely. "One day dad wanted me to come with him to work. He had great expectations of me to follow in his footsteps as a great scientific mind of Galaluna. I didn't particularly want to go- she would be left all alone, which I had promised never to do. Dad, however, was adamant, and when she told me to go, what could I do? When I asked dad if she could come, he just looked at me and said, 'I don't think so, son.' I never understood that, until I grew up and realized that he had wanted a second son instead of a daughter." Ilana could tell by the look in his eyes that this made his blood boil. She felt rather indignant, too- what was wrong with girls? "Right as we were leaving, she called out to me. She said, 'Have fun with dad, Lance!' For no reason whatsoever, right then something inside me snapped. I must have been in an extremely bad mood, or perhaps the crying at night hadn't been enough, because right there what I did was inexcusable. I spun and faced her, and shouted: ''Have fun with dad?' What's that supposed to mean? Don't you even remember mom?!' In that instant, I realized what I had said when I looked at her face. Her expression was shocked and full of pain. Her big brother, who she admitted was her hero, had just accused her of not missing their dead mother. I can't even imagine how deep that must have cut. Her eyes were torture." Lance's voice was thick with guilt, and Ilana identified shame on his face. "I turned and ran, willing myself not to cry. Dad caught up to me and slowed me to a walk. I resolved to apologize to her when we got home."

"I never got the chance."

"All day, dad went around and showed me all about his work- the particle fuser, the atom splicer, and the quantum-entanglement generator. I was pretty geeky at the time, and loved it all. I forgot all about our little feud while I was there, but recalled it as we were walking home. I dreaded apologizing to her. I braced myself and swallowed my pride. Then we came over the hill and the house came into view."

"I hadn't braced myself for the right thing. Oh, she was there, all right. But she wasn't sad or angry. She was deathly afraid…" Lance's face reflected the terror he was recalling, and something told Ilana that whatever had happened he blamed on himself. Now, though, Ilana pressed him for reasons other than her own curiosity. She could see that this had been eating away at him since it had happened ten years ago. "Of?" she asked.

He looked at her, his eyes now dead. "The men holding a gun to her head."

Ilana felt a cold creeping through her body. Despite the fact that Lance's sister had obviously survived, she couldn't even imagine what the four- year old must have been going through.

Lance summed it up for her. "Dad and I started running towards her. I outpaced him, and was about twenty feet away before they stopped us. The only reason I stopped running…was because…because they flipped the safety catch off of the gun. No words needed- I could hear the click from where I was standing. I took one step closer and she would die. By this time, she had seen me as well. Her face went from terrified to complete calm. She hid her fear inside to be strong for me, and told me without speaking that it would all be fine. I could see that she had gotten in many good hits- the bandits' faces were all bruised, and they were both of the men were walking funny, slightly bent over their groins. Before I could stop them, the two bandits got into a pod and left, taking my sister and all our valuables, leaving the door broken on its hinges. I've never forgotten their faces."

Ilana found she was staring open-mouthed at the fourteen year-old girl on their sofa. She's been through hell, she thought. She looked at Lance. "Didn't the bandits send a ransom note?"

Lance's face hardened with a hatred so deep, Ilana flinched. "They did. Of course, I didn't know that until I inherited a small amount of dad's things after he died. I found it buried among mom's old things. Dad had always told me, though, that the bandits had never sent one. He said we should just forget about her and move on. He said that grieving wouldn't bring her back. He would scold me if he found me crying for her, and not knowing any better, I eventually listened to him and moved on. I never stopped thinking about her, though, not even when we came here, to Earth. That was the one thing I never forgave him for, was that ransom note."

"Was it too expensive?" Ilana asked.

Lance looked at her, the hatred burning brighter. "My dad made $500,000 a year. The ransom note asked for only $1,000. That's less than one day's work. No, he didn't want a girl in the family. He considered her a burden."

Ilana was infuriated. Despite the fact that this had occurred over ten years ago, her fury was fresh. What kind of a father had Edward been? Ilana hated to think so, but no matter how much Lance had loved his father, perhaps he was better off without him.

"I never saw her again. Of course, with my last image of her being that of a gun pointed at her head, and a ransom note that I can only assume was never paid, what else could I think but that she was dead?"

Lance looked at his sister, and his hatred softened. Ilana marveled at how just looking at her made him soften. "Of course, now that I know she's alive, maybe I can finally start to forgive him."

He pulled a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and looked at in the glow of the firelight. He smiled and handed it to Ilana, who was gazing at it curiously. "This was all I had left of her until a couple of hours ago, except the memories, of course."

Ilana studied the picture. It was in crayon (or, at least, the Galalunian equivalent of one), and it showed two small children holding hands and smiling. The one on the right was a small boy with a blue suit, long black hair, and dark eyes. He was holding hands with the girl on the left, who had light freckles, maroon hair, and blue eyes. The drawing was covered in a homemade lamination- tape covering every inch. There were deep creases where it had been folded and unfolded over the course of many years, but it had obviously been taken care of very well. Above the joined hands of the children was a heart, big and red. Ilana turned the paper over. She felt her face mirror Lance's smile, and her eyes glistened. With a big fat purple crayon, a child's handwriting read: '2 my big bruthur, my heerow. I luv u. *heart*, Littul Sis'. Ilana felt her eyes grow even wetter. She handed the paper back to Lance, and she saw that he had shed a single tear. Some part of her felt surprised that he had any left.

His voice was broken now, cracked with emotion. "That was the one thing I could never forgive myself for, though. Yelling at her- I could manage to justify just about everything in my life except for that."

He fell silent. After a long time, he whispered, "And now she's sacrificed herself for me." Ilana was momentarily confused, and then remembered- the Mutraddi monster. It had been headed straight for Lance, perhaps programmed by whoever had invaded Galaluna to target Manus armor. Instead of the Manus, though, it had gotten his sister. She had sacrificed herself for him.

Ilana looked at him sadly. "You know, that's not your fault", she whispered in his ear, leaning in. "You tried to help her fight. And Octus says she'll be fine."

Lance looked at her gratefully, and she realized that she had given him what he needed- consolation that this really wasn't his fault, that he wasn't the one to blame.

Ilana looked at his sister with soft eyes. "What's her name?"

Lance looked over at her once more. Their faces were close now, from her whispering in his ear- she could smell his breath on her face, and could see how tired he was. In his eyes were a variety of emotions- hope, sadness, pain. But mostly love was present in his eyes, and in his voice, too, as he answered:

"Amy."

Ilana woke up and found herself in Lance's lap.

She looked up and found his head on the couch, his fingers still intertwined with Amy's. He was snoring slightly, and Ilana gave a small smile at this- the big, scary corporal snored in his sleep. She tried to recall the past events- they had talked some more, cried a little, and then (apparently) passed out on each other. Lance's other arm was wrapped around Ilana, making her feel all warm and fuzzy (not that his arm provided much heat). She really didn't want to move, just wanted to go back to sleep, but her neck was on his shoulder in an uncomfortable position. She tried to move it slightly, but Lance being the light sleeper he was, automatically woke up tensed and ready for a fight.

To find himself cuddling with the princess of Galaluna.

He removed himself immediately, missing the sad look that crossed her face when he did so. Blushing furiously, he rearranged himself in front of the couch.

They tried to pretend it had never happened (despite the fact that they were both replaying it in their minds), but that's kind of hard to do when your robot can't take a hint and says, "So, you guys are finally up."

They swiveled to find Octus in a chair in front of the fireplace, with a…wait, was that a smirk on his face?

"I've been over all the data for files regarding your sister, Lance, but haven't found anything. I'm checking again for the third time, but I doubt I'll find anything new." Octus regarded Lance cautiously. "I know she's your sister, Lance. You're absolutely positive that she can be trusted?"

"Yes." Ilana was surprised by his simple reply. No tensing, no getting defensive. Just an answer. He must be pretty tired, Ilana thought. He should have slept in ;)…

Amy's bandages were clean- Octus must have changed them while they were sleeping. She thought she heard him snickering in her dreams, but robots don't snicker…

Meanwhile, Lance was reflecting on the day's events. So much to process… he was amazed he hadn't snapped at them yet. He was so tired…

He remembered one thing before passing out with Ilana in his arms- she had told him that Amy was pretty name. He had smiled and agreed, and then proceeded to lose consciousness.

How hopeless.

Octus went upstairs to get a better signal for the research. Ilana glanced over at Lance, making a mental note of how cute his eyebrows were when he was worried. They scrunched up like the furry caterpillars she had seen here on Earth. Once she was thinking about caterpillars, though, of course she couldn't stop herself from thinking of butterflies. She looked at Lance and then at Amy, wondering what metamorphosis his sister would inspire in the corporal. They had both lived lives in hell… though Ilana liked to think that being on Earth with her hadn't been that bad.

She could tell by looking at his face that he was still beating himself up for the blow that he should've received. Ilana realized that, within the past couple of hours (based on how long they had been asleep), she had probably learned more about him and how to read him than during the whole year they had been on Earth. She sighed. "Pardon my French, but tonight sure has been crappy."

Lance looked at her with alternating amounts of surprise and amusement, but she didn't really care. It was true. She looked out the window, where the sun was rising. The tints of orange, yellow, pink, and blood red hues painted a mosaic in their living room. "But, of course, dawn will always come- a new beginning." Ilana looked at Lance, putting everything into her eyes and voice. "And new beginnings mean forgiving yourself for things that aren't your fault."

All at once, the agony was back. He turned around and looked at her with those tortured eyes that she thought had left, releasing his hand from Amy's. "With all due respect, princess, you just don't understand. I lost Amy once, and now I almost lost her again because of my incompetence. Some big brother, some hero I am. How will I ever face her when she wakes up?"

A chuckle. "Perhaps you could turn around", replied a voice from the sofa.

ERMEHGERD that took SO FRICKING LONG. I started this Friday and as of now it's two am Sunday morning. 8 pages in Word, and I could feel some of you getting antsy. Well, better late than never. I can't promise to update on a regular basis, but of course I'll try. Dad got back from his trip tonight, so we had some bonding time 3. Sorry if certain words are repeated a lot, there are only so many synonyms for 'pain'. PLEASE REVIEW GUYS I SPENT SIX HOURS ON THIS ONE. SERIOUSLY. TAKES TWO MINUTES TO REVIEW… I'd go into more details about my life, but no one really cares ;. I give an internet cookie to anyone whose name is Amy, you rule… Thanks again to all those who review. I always eagerly anticipate your feedback. Going to bed now, goodnight…