AN:…is everyone cool now? Is it safe to post shit again? Good. Way too much drama this past weekend, seriously…

Anyways, on that bright, sunny note, here's some more shout outs for you rockin' peeps!

This right here's for Black Galaxy Stars! This person's given me a whole bunch of really awesome reviews for both this story and previous ones, and is also the proud owner of Elliot in this story! So thank you so much for all the support, and yes, eventually I will try to get around to finishing COPS… probably XD I've been trying to come up with ways to finish it, and I think that I'm starting to come up with something. Anyway, thank you very much!

Second's for clemmyclue19! I don't know if she's actually coming back or not lol (where'd ya go?) but she's been extremely supportive of this story and previous ones in the past, and she also created Kazuki if you guys wanted to know. She's a really great addition to the story, so thank you for that!

James' POV

"You're late."

Grinning like a damn fool, Luna steps into the little dining room that we have as she quietly shuts the door behind her. We don't use this room very much, if at all really, since there hasn't really been the need for eating in here for a very, very long time. But, according to Bo and the rest of these clowns, apparently this is a special occasion of some sort.

How the hell would they know if it was actually New Year's Eve or not around this time of year? I'm pretty sure they're just using it as an excuse to drink up some of the alcohol that Luna, Jake and Scott had found while on their "little detour". Yeah, I'm quite aware that they went farther than they were supposed to.

I don't know why we even had one of these in the space centre to begin with, to be frank. Don't get me wrong, it's a really nice place with the scarlet curtains, maple wooden table and chair set, and the nice (while also very expensive) carpet that rests underneath our feet, but it seemed a little out of place in a building like this. Science labs and fancy dining rooms don't really seem to mesh together.

Luna doesn't seem to mind, though – in fact, I think this place actually makes her seem a little happier than usual. Where are Scott and Jake though?

And more importantly to me anyways, where's Bo?

"If someone invites you folks over for dinner, you'd think that the least you could do is be punctual…" I mutter, sitting down in my chair as Luna plops herself down into her seat and immediately pops open a wine bottle before anyone else shows up. Classy, this one. "You know how I feel about people running late – out here especially. It's not safe for people to be wandering about at night."

Scratching behind her ear and flicking some hair follicles onto the floor, Luna shrugs her shoulders before taking a big gulp of the alcoholic substance. "We just got here a little while ago, doc. It's been a long journey," she points out, stretching her arms to the sky as she sighs in relaxation. "You worry way too much, Jim. Loosen up a little bit!"

"It's James, and it's my job to worry. You, on the other hand, have a much bigger problem than I do."

Knowing that that would capture her attention, seeing's how she doesn't like people telling her what she can and cannot do, her eyes seem to glimmer in the dim lighting of the dining room as she pointedly glances over to me.

"Oh really? What's that, then?"

"Alcoholism," I tell her bluntly, referring to the wine bottle in her hand as she quickly puts the cork back in and rolls it underneath the table; the swishing sound in the bottle just making it all the more obvious that she's embarrassed about it. "Not a nice trait to have these days, Luna. It makes you dull; unaware of what's going on around you," I point out, feeling a little off-put as her eyes take a softer look to them as her red-tinted lips curve in a suggestive smile.

Is she trying to… flirt with me?!

"Oh, I think I know exactly what's going on here, darling," she purrs as I can practically smell the scent of booze from the other end of the table. "I know you want me, James! Fess up – you don't need to be ashamed of loving me!"

Finding the whole scene terribly unappealing, I roughly clear my throat before picking the wine bottle up from the carpet and pouring myself a glass. Now I see why she needs to have this stuff all the time – it can get you out of the most awkward of situations.

Hopefully after one sip I can just magically make all of this disappear.

"Perhaps finding someone your own age would be more appropriate… I'm a whole lot older than you," I suggest, trying my best not to make eye contact as she chuckles softly. Does she seriously find all of this amusing?!

"I'm nineteen! It's legal, you know! Why can't I be in love with you?"

"Because I'm not someone that you'd want – trust me, it's not worth your time. You'd be terribly disappointed," I insist, trying to dissipate whatever bubbling, misguided feelings she might have for me. I can't say that I've ever had to deal with this kind of thing before – is it weird that I feel kind of flattered, and yet totally sickened at the same time? "Now come on, let's chow down before the flies get here and eat it for us."

Puzzled, Luna frowns slightly as I pick up a fork and knife and start digging in. Who would've thought that venison and beans would actually be a good combination? I'll have to cook more often!

"I thought you wanted to wait for Bo?" she questions as she gestures to the door with a confused expression.

Shaking my head, I take another bite out of the meat; encouraging Luna to do the same before the dinner starts to get cold. "He's never this late – if he's not here yet, that means he's got something important to be doing. No need to wait for him."

"Dinner for two, then?" she smirks knowingly, causing me to roll my eyes in exasperation. "Cheers, mate."

"Don't push your luck," I comment dryly, clanking my wine glass against her as we both take a big gulp.

Bo's POV

With one ear pinned up against the door, I get a much better idea of how the conversation is going inside the dining hall than Jake and Scott do, but either way we're all feeling as giddy as a group of school children as we hear their banter. I nearly burst out into an incessant fit of laughter when Luna started saying that James wanted her, but thankfully I managed to keep that under control.

I wouldn't want to spoil this magical moment after all!

"Oh James, you are never gonna be able to live this down," I snicker quietly, feeling like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland as I decide to give the side of my head a break. This is comedy gold right here! "Jake, get your damn knee out of my back! Oww! Dude, would you two knock it off back there?! You're gonna spoil everything!"

"I'm starving! Do you know how long it's been since we've had a proper meal?" Scott whines, sounding more like a mopey teenager as he reluctantly backs away and slumps against the wall.

Rolling my eyes, I try to whisper so that the two love birds in there won't be disturbed… and so that we don't get totally busted for this afterwards. "It's been less than three days, drama queen… and you already had food prepared for you. You can afford to miss one more – or if it'll quit your bitching, I'll give you my leftovers when they're done in there."

"We ate canned shit for three days! It tasted like scrap metal!"

"How would you even know what that tastes like?" Jake questions as a faint blush of embarrassment appears on Scott's cheeks. Clearly he's got some explaining to do.

"It was a dare… we were up north in Washington during the winter for a school trip," he recalls sheepishly, and I nearly face palm as I start to realize what these friends of his made the guy do. So stupid… "We found one of those old lamp posts that you used to see in old-time Europe, you know? And so, the dare was for me to… to lick it. Naturally, I got stuck there for over half an hour and held up the rest of the class. They practically needed to rip my face off the pole, and it took over a year for it to heal properly…"

"You didn't…" Jake remarks, holding his head in his hands as Scott nods in confirmation. "Oh my god… I don't even want to know anymore… My curiosity is sated enough for one day – that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Putting a finger to my lips and widening my eyes as I hear footsteps coming from the other side of the door, I quickly usher the two of them down the hall as we all hide behind the corner. James would ring my head through a meat grinder if he found out we were eavesdropping on a dinner that we were actually supposed to attend, so I deeply sigh and give up on trying to listen in. Might as well find something better to do – this has been pretty childish, if not super fun at the same time.

Leading them down the hall, I lift up a hand to punch in the code, but stop myself when I remember that the power has gone out in almost all sections of the space centre. Tommy had mentioned before how he was going to fix it… that clever bastard. Too smart for his own good, unfortunately.

It's a good thing James and I (well, mostly me) had managed to keep him quiet right up until his surprising departure. I thought for sure that he'd end up sticking around, but he's not our problem any longer.

"You fellas ready to see where the magic happens?" I ask them, swinging the door wide open as they already start to gape in awe. "Welcome to history, gents…" I whisper as they glance at the rocket which I must have seen at least two thousand times by now. This room hasn't seen a whole lot of activity besides James and I coming to make sure that things are still operational from time to time, but showing the grand tour every now and again sort of reminds me of the community we had before. I miss those days… I miss hearing the kids sprinting down the hallway, playing games and just enjoying themselves while their fathers would holler after them to slow down. I miss the times that I spent playing a good game of chess when my shift on watch duty would be completed; looking out over the city as the sun would go down.

Those times are gone now, but maybe it's better in some respects – we're no longer just living in a fantasy. The people around here may be hard-headed and miserable a bunch of the time, but at least they seem to be a capable bunch.

I can't tell you how many hours of sleep I lost just lying awake at night wondering what might happen if a herd of roamers just came over and swept this place clean. I don't need to worry about that so much anymore.

"Go ahead and flip that switch for me, would ya?" I call out to Jake as he nears the long distance radio machine, having heard that it actually works after James explained certain things to me. He seemed a lot calmer at that point.

Doing as I've bid, Jake switches it on as the dash lights up; giving me an excuse to try and contact our missing patrons up in Missouri. The trail had gone pretty cold over the last couple of days, and we had wanted to conserve battery life for the machine, so we've only used it for brief amounts of time.

Settling into the chair directly in front of it, I start turning the dials until I finally manage to find the signal from Kelly's radio. I hope they're still out there somewhere…

"Hey Scotty? You still have that hatchet thingy with you? I wanted to try a few swings with it – seemed like a pretty solid weapon in a pinch," Jake compliments as Scott checks his backpack and opens up the zippered pockets. Whatever they may have found out there really pales in comparison to the task at hand, but at least it'll keep them busy for a little while.

"Kelly? This is Bo calling from the Houston Space Centre! Does anyone copy, over?"

Snapping his fingers in dismay, Scott shakes his head as he looks up towards the ceiling. "Must've left the thing in the chopper," he remarks, "I'll go grab it and bring it down."

"Nah, don't trouble yourself. It's not going anywhere," Jake shakes his head, gesturing to all the interesting stuff sitting around. "I'll go grab it later – there's some things that I've gotta fix up in the chopper later anyways."

"If you say so…"

Choosing to practice the art of patience as once again I hear nothing but static on the other end of the line, I continue to holler into the microphone in the slim hopes that somebody will actually pick up the signal. I hate being in the dark on things like this, as do most people. It's like getting a huge cliff hanger at the end of a really good movie and you realize that you have to wait two or more years for the sequel to come out.

It's mind boggling how frustrating the god damn waiting game can be.

"Hey Bo! Why don't you ever use this stuff to fight off the undead?" Jake questions, walking around with the space helmet like an idiot as he prepares to put on the rest of the getup. "This outfit is awesome, dude! You could be like a friggin' juggernaut in this thing! Nothing would be able to stop you!"

"It's definitely not bulletproof," I explain, pointing to the rack as he reluctantly puts the space suit back where it belongs. They're not tear-proof either, as scary as that might seem. The fabric may not be quite at the strength level as it once was.

Blowing a raspberry, Jake looks around impatiently in search of something productive to do. I'm trying to find our friends, Scott is looting through old newspaper clippings and silently chuckling at the cartoons from long ago, but not poor, old Jacob. If he's not fiddling around with some kind of machine or trap or anything of that nature, then he never seems to feel satisfied.

Sliding his hand along the railing, he turns to me as I try again to contact our fellow Fireflies.

"Got anyone up on lookout right now?" he asks as I turn my head in fright; having completely forgotten about that today. Jake doesn't seem to be too alarmed though, as he waves his hand out nonchalantly. "No worries, Bo, I reinforced the lock on the front doors. Nothing's getting in without our say-so," he reassures, mentioning that he's going up top anyways.

Not paying him much more mind than that, I spin back in the chair and continue adjusting the volume dial as he starts the climb up to the roof.

About three minutes or so later, some literal magic actually happens.

"…hello? Bo? Is that you?"

"Holy shit… we've got contact again!" I exclaim as Scott rushes over to my side. "Yeah, it's me, Kaz! Are you guys alright? Where's Kelly, is she with you?"

"We…we're trapped in one of the houses! They almost caught us!" she exclaims, having to whisper for some unknown reason. "Shit! We've gotta hide! Alden, get over h-"

Frantically turning the dials and slamming my fist on the control panel when the signal goes dark once again, I lean my forehead on the cold metal as I shake my head in anxiety.

Clem… you better get there quickly.

Clem's POV

It's been five minutes that we've been talking with this man, and already I'm starting to get a nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It's not just limited to the soft yet dark underpinning of David's voice, or the greasy, slicked back hair of his or even the creepy grin he wears whenever it's our turn to add to the conversation – it's literally all of the above and then some. The deplorable, decrepit state of this metro is messing with my head, and the saddened, depressed look on the faces of its inhabitants makes me want to just pluck them all up one by one and bring them back home with us. In all my time spent with the Fireflies, I've never wanted to be more of a beacon of hope for people than where we are at right here, right now.

These people need a little light in their lives more than any of us.

I've still not gotten used to the dank, disgusting smell of the place, nor the way that the mold grows on the concrete blocks thanks to the water that drips down through the cracks in the surface. There's also the matter of bats taking nest up so high that nobody has been able to shoo them away, and the occasional stray walker that'll somehow manage to find its way through the sewer tunnels on the opposite end of where we had come from.

"We call them Infected," David had told us earlier when we described some of our experiences up top. It literally seems as though this man is the only one who kind of has an idea of what things are really like out there.

Of course, it could be that things are even worse down here.

"So, I can't help but notice that you people don't travel lightly," he comments as he glances at the various weapons that we carry around on our person. "You could practically equip a small army with the heat you're packing over there. I can't say that it's not making our people a little nervous, with a group of your size able to inflict so much… destruction."

"We're not handing anything over, if that's what you mean."

"No, no, of course not," David chuckles humourlessly as Lilly protectively holds onto her rifle. "I'm just saying that we typically… don't get a whole lot of visitors down here. You understand, right? We've all got people to look after."

Taking a good, hard look at the surrounding area, with people on the brink of starvation and just festering with disease, Jane whistles mockingly as she makes a few slow claps.

"And what a job you guys have done. Bravo, just bravo," she gives him a big thumbs up with a frown etched onto her face. "Not only did I want to gag upon coming in here, but now I just want to smack you across the back of the head! How could you possibly have let things go this badly?!"

Not liking the tone of voice or the fact that somebody's ridiculing him on how to run his own group, David looks over at me sternly with narrowed eyes. "I'd ask that if you would like to continue our friendly conversation down here," he reprimands through gritted teeth, "that you would keep your smart-mouthed companion over here at bay. You're all our guests down here, but I'd have no problem kicking you back out onto the road if you all continue to insult our way of life. This is our home, and I'd like you to respect it as such."

His vocabulary alone would almost be enough to send Lilly into a fuming rage, but before she can even mutter a sound I turn to my comrades and shake my head. It's not worth it just yet – we'll get there eventually, as this cannot continue. People can't continue to live like this. What would even be the point of going on if this is all they have to look forward to?

But right now, we have to maintain a tactical advantage and focus on the primary reason that we came here in the first place – getting our friends back safe and sound. If they have any potential way of helping us, then that has to be our main objective.

Then and only then will we finally be able to discuss the situation down in this metro. Just sitting here gives me the creeps.

"We didn't come down here just for a visit," I brush off, getting back to the matter at hand. "We were on our way to Ranger's Grove to look for our friends," I point out, noticing how his face contorts darkly. "I take it you know what I'm talking about, then…"

"If your friends went there, then they're already dead… or soon will be," he remarks in a pessimistic fashion, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he leans back in his seat on the couch. The way that he keeps looking at Ellie has got me more than a little pissed off. "Ranger's Grove has been sacked and rebuilt so many times that I've lost count. I used to live there at one point, you see, and I've witnessed it getting taken over on countless occasions. Why the hell they would want a place like that is beyond me, especially when we've got a nice, safe setup right down here."

Upon noticing our less than impressed stares, David steps off the couch and ushers us to move forward to the railing. My blood turns cold when he offers Ellie a hand and that the girl unfortunately accepts the invitation.

Making sure to remain right by the girl's side, I'm the next to look out over Hunter's Retreat as we see the same poor conditions that we've been observing for the past little while. Why he'd want to show this off is anyone's guess.

"This place was settled by a colony of hunters a number of years ago, after the Infected started coming back to life and the metro was abandoned," he explains like some sort of tour guide, giving us the historic run-down as he holds his arms out wide like a preacher of sorts. "Since then, people have come here from all across the country seeking shelter or temporary relief from the outside world. It's a chance for people to escape; to start living again without having to resort to all of this… this violence," he mentions, gesturing to the guns again as Lilly stiffens up a little bit.

I get the feeling that she hates this place even more than the rest of us do.

"These people aren't safe here! Look at them! Half of these people are dying in their own shit, and the other half are drugged out of their minds!" blasts Lilly as my urges to keep quiet about this go unheard. It doesn't surprise me, really. Neither of the two women really have a strategic head for this sort of thing. "If nobody else will say it, then I will – with the way this place is running, soon you're going to end up with an entire army of the undead just wandering around, and nobody will be here to stop it from spreading."

Not allowing this to ruffle his feathers, David sticks his chest out a little bit as he shakes his head in denial. "Despite your judgemental ways, why don't you take a moment to consider just how fortunate we actually are down here?" he wonders aloud as a woman coughs violently a few feet away from us. "There are so few of us left out in the world, and times have been especially cruel," he shudders, as if just thinking about all the death is giving him waking nightmares. "Through it all, this place has stood tall and proud. How many other communities have been ravaged by bandits or worse? We get by down here – we've been living just as our ancestors did, and this community will continue to stand the test of time!"

Scoffing, Jane shakes her head at just how delusional the guy seems to be. Can he seriously not see that this entire place is crumbling right before his eyes? Is he seriously trying to justify the fact that children are starving, while parents and elders are struggling just to provide for their meager lives?

With most of Hunter's Retreat wrapped snuggly under his thumb, David appears content with the depraved conditions of his people, but as far as we're concerned, they can make their own choice. They can die in their cooped up little world, or they can potentially live out with the rest of us. I'd rather run the risk of guns, walkers and other people rather than stay down here for even a day.

"Under your leadership," Jane mentions, folding her arms sourly across her chest, "none of these people will make it. Your ignorance to what's really going on is gonna tear this place apart bit by bit."

"My leadership has kept us all alive! Now if you don't mind – "

Interrupted as two physically exhausted men sprint to a halt down below, David neglects his previous sentence as we all follow him down the escalator. Ellie nearly trips and falls flat on her face going down, so I reluctantly allow her to sit on my shoulders as we hit the bottom and scoot over to them.

"You've been gone for days," David points out, tilting one of the men's chin up as he awaits a response. I allow Ellie to settle back on the ground and dust off her faded jeans. "Well? Where's the rest of them? What happened out there?"

"Gasp… Johnson… he and Roscoe got caught… Joe, Ross and Frank got killed…" the man wheezes, clearly exhausted after such a long journey. When David widens his eyes at the news, the man lifts a finger as he continues. "It was Ranger's Grove… a new batch of people took over," he remarks, finally regaining his composure as his partner nods vigorously. "We can't let them get executed like Ross did – he got hanged by a belt from the fucking light post, David! They're going to murder them!"

Calmly (too calm if you ask me) internalizing and processing the information, David maintains a neutral position before turning towards the rest of us.

"Looks like you've found your opening," he comments as he pats his friend on the back. "These two can show you the way into Ranger's Grove – you can look for your friends in there, but you need to come back with my men… or you might as well not come back at all."

Realizing that he's got a point, I turn towards Lilly and Jane as the both of them nod in agreement. Something needs to be done – action needs to be taken quickly in order for them to survive. Who knows how long it'll be before Tracy finds our friends next?

"The girl can stay here until you get back…" David remarks suddenly as I put a protective arm around her waist. No way am I letting this creepy fuck alone with Ellie! "You're not seriously expecting a little girl to go out on a stealth mission, are you? I thought you'd be smarter than that."

"I'll stay here with her then. Jane, too," I add, needing another capable person here to stay with me in case things go south. Lilly can manage just fine – she's been through these kinds of combat scenarios numerous times before, and she knows a thing or two about sneaking up behind enemy lines. "Marcus can head on with you – he's a mercenary, and he knows what he's doing. But Ellie stays with me, and that's final."

Holding his hands up in defense, as if he really needs to justify himself to the rest of us, David takes a step back while nodding in solemn agreement and heading off to talk to the rest of his hunters. There aren't a lot of these guys here, and the crappy condition of their clothes and weapons makes me think that they aren't that well prepared. If Ellie was a little bit older, I'd say fuck this place and that we should just head out there immediately.

But if their numbers are as big as we've heard, then we might need all the help we can get… even if it's from a disturbing man like David.

"Be careful out there, you hear me?" Jane remarks pointedly, more than used to Lilly going out into the heat of danger at this point. "Don't even think about risking your life for any of these assholes… just stay out of sight and come back to us."

"Come back to you, it sounds like," she quips with a smug look on her face, giving Jane a quick peck on the lips as I look down at my feet. Not even five seconds later does Lilly come over and squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. "You've got this, Clem, I know you do," she tells me as her soft echoes ring off the walls of the metro. Speaking in a more hushed tone as she bends down in front of me, she fixes up my jacket as I smile at her with affection.

"You always have been one to worry too much about these things."

"Just… whatever you do," she whispers so that nobody else can hear, "don't trust David. And don't trust him with her."

The three of us stand there, surrounded by filth, misery and all kinds of ruined hopes and dreams, until Lilly, Marcus and the two they're with disappear from our sight down the long, dark tunnel. There's nothing in the world I would want more than for all of us to return to Houston and just start living normal lives again…

…but out here, those happy sentiments almost never tend to happen. Our struggle with Ranger's Grove has just begun.

Nobody's POV

Embroidered with red and white paint, various enhancements that really make it stand out among the other vehicles used out here, the helicopter sits tall and proud up on the roof of the space centre; a beacon of hope if the inhabitants had ever seen one. Things like these are a commodity that they've been extremely lucky to afford – a treasured artifact that sets them apart from the other random survivors just trying to get by on a daily basis.

If Jake hadn't known any better, he'd swear up and down that finding a place like this was nothing more than a pipe dream. But it's very much a reality now – he and the two he set out with can finally stop worrying about people coming to kill them in their sleep, while knowing that if something like that were to happen, they'd have an entire community to back them up. They're all a part of the same family now. Sure, some members might take some getting used to for the first little while, but for the first time in years, Jake actually feels as though he can be a part of something special again. He can finally contribute to something that won't just automatically fall apart as things usually do.

Whistling softly to himself as he pulls a wrench from out of the toolbox, Jake barely even registers the visitor that he's receiving up on the roof this evening. It's not as if he hasn't had to deal with Luna's bad habits beforehand. Clearly someone had a little too much wine at dinner this evening.

"You touching my shit now, Jake? Is…is that what this is?! I thought we went over this!" she blurbs out in a drunken fit as the nineteen year old slowly walks forward. Every step feels like a mile to her as her brain basically turns to mush and her eyes make everything seem blurry and unfocused.

Annoyed by the interruption, Jake continues to tighten bolts near the tail end of the chopper. "Calm down, Moonshine…" he retorts, using the nickname as a double whammy for her regular name and whenever she gets ridiculously liquored up. "I'm not taking the helicopter – I'm just grabbing something for Scott and fixing up one of the rotors."

Feeling insulted at the use of that nickname which she's explained countless times was hurting her feelings, Luna glares deeply at Jake; barely able to see him as the sun starts to go down. That just crossed the line, big time.

Wiping away some snot that's ungraciously made its way down her nose, Luna folds her arms together maliciously. "…you two think you're so fucking clever, huh?! Ain't that right, Mr. All Up In Everyone's Business?!"

"What the hell are you even talking about now? And why do you still have a bottle of vodka in your hand?!" he finally notices as the contents swirl and she swigs another drink back. "We talked about this! We agreed that you wouldn't go past your limit! Give it here!"

Lazily giving him the finger, Luna finds herself at odds with the man yet again. Throughout the time that they've known each other, they've had more than their fair share of fights and arguments over this kind of thing. In the past, Scott has usually always been around to break it up… but not this time.

And now Luna's got enough alcohol within her system that a verbal filter no longer applies.

"You know what? Fuck you, Jacob!" she bellows as he looks up from his work for a second. "You…you think you're some hot shit just because you know how to fix a fucking old lady's toaster when it gets on the fritz! You and Scotty are working side by side! You're both in on this horse shit together, fucking pansies!"

"Would you cut out the cussing already? I'm not in on anything! You're just throwing around stupid accusations!"

"Yeah, okay! As if I'm supposed to believe one damn word that comes out of your whore mouth!" she verbally assaults the man as her vocabulary becomes more and more vulgar with each passing second. "You know what the problem with you is, Jake? You and Scott both think that you're better than me! I can see it on both of your faces!"

Temporarily giving her his full attention, Jake puts the wrench back into the toolbox and replaces it with a screwdriver; holding it at his side as he tries to put the pieces together.

And Jake thinks that he knows exactly what this could've been prompted by.

"Is this about James shooting you down?" he insinuates, apparently guessing correctly as Luna's face lights up like a volcano.

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU FUCKERS WERE SPYING ON US!"

"Luna, the guy's in his mid-forties! What made you think you had a chance with him anyways?"

"Don't… don't you fucking talk about him like that! We were made for each other!" Luna points towards him in anger. The tiny rocks underneath her shoes crackle as they spread across the rooftop, making it incredibly difficult for her to stand properly in her current state.

Deeply sighing and running a hand across his scalp, Jake decides to drop it for now as he turns back to the helicopter. There are some things worth getting into a debate over, but this definitely isn't one of them.

"I don't have time for this right now," he comments dryly, getting back to screwing in a bolt near the rotor panel. "Can you go bother somebody else, please? I need some space here, so how's about you take your vodka and drown yourself in booze downstairs? It's really distracting right now…"

Using her alcoholic logic, Luna tries her best to come up with a desirable explanation for why her friends seem to hate her so much, but all she can come up with is more confusion. Why do they act this way around her? Why can't they just treat her like everyone else? Why does everything always have to be so complicated?

So many why's, and not enough explanations given.

"That's what this is… y'all think I have issues… and can't contribute to the community…" she reasons as her voice becomes more raspy after shouting so much. "You think I'm just a stupid, lame fucking drunk who has nothin' better to do than to sit on my ass and drink my sorrows away! Well I've got news for you, shit for brains!" she snaps while edging herself closer and closer towards the mechanic. "I'm the one who's flying this bird! I'm the one carrying this team on my back to the path of victory!"

Groaning in frustration, Jake curses under his breath as he tries to get back to work, but Luna's not letting him have at it. "Would you listen to yourself, Moonshine?!" he exclaims with a huff. "Look, we all know that you've got family issues, but can you save it for another time? Go talk to your boyfriend downstairs – I'm sure James would love to get a look inside that screwed up head of yours…"

Like a slap in the face, Luna instantly gets a flash of recurring memories of a violent upbringing, a broken home and several excruciating years of therapy sessions that she had never asked for. So many tests she had to take… so many times she had to lie, smile, nod and try reassuring everyone that it was all just peachy. The truth would come out with alcohol, since that seemed to be the only saviour to her misery.

But upon realizing that she must've spilled her guts out on more than one occasion, Luna flips her lid.

"…what did you just say…?"

"You practically told me yourself about Daddy and how he used to be some drug-induced, raging sociopath, but guess what, Luna? You're not the only one dealing with problems out here! Don't go crying to me just because the world wronged you in one way or another! I've got too many things to worry about right now…"

Anger soon envelops her entire body upon hearing those scolding words; the words that have been said to her countless times before as a child and a young teen. It's no longer Jake standing there, but her father with a sickening smirk on his lips as he tells her what a shitty person she is over and over again.

You think you're worth something to anyone?! Ha! You're a pathetic waste of space! I never should've slept with that bitch you call a mother – maybe then you wouldn't have been here in the first place, and I wouldn't have to be reminded of her every fucking waking moment!

"You…fucker…" she whispers under her reeking breath, going to swing a fist right at Jake's jaw. The timing, unfortunately for her, is terribly clumsy and slow, so the man easily sees it coming from a mile away.

Dodging the blow and elbowing her in the ribs, Jake pins her right up against the helicopter as he holds her in place.

"Just drop it… don't make me kill you right now – I don't want to have to do this…" he warns, practically begging her to stop this madness as he holds the screwdriver close to her throat.

Upon seeing the tool wedged up against her neck pretty securely, with the cold metal reacting against the warm feeling that the substances have brought to her skin, Luna can't help but feel absolute loathing of this man. Who the hell is he to try this shit?! He's going to steal the helicopter and fly away with Scott; leaving her stranded with a bunch of strangers all because they think she deserves every ounce of hate she receives!

Feeling whatever kindling of friendship they may have had totally disappear, Luna prepares to end this and finally get rid of the unsuppressed anger she's feeling.

Clutching the neck of the vodka bottle firmly in her hand, the girl brings it up and smashes it cleanly across Jake's face; sending shards of glass to pierce through his eyeballs and cut deep into his face as blood gushes down rapidly. Screaming at the sheer torture that these lacerations have caused, Jake knocks over his toolbox as he stumbles closer to the edge.

Luna, still in an enraged stupor, roughly grabs onto his jacket and shoves him off the roof; incessantly telling him to fuck off as she looks on drunkenly until he hits the ground with a splat. Soft landing or not, the impact of falling at this height would've ruptured his vital organs and killed him almost instantly.

Sitting back down as if nothing had ever happened, Luna clutches what remains of her vodka bottle before trying to get the last few drops onto the tip of her tongue. When nothing else comes out of it, and the glass cuts the tip of her bottom lip, Luna splutters as she carelessly tosses the broken piece over her shoulder and down to the street below.

"Oh hey there, Scotty!" she remarks with a fit of giggles as the guy clutches a pistol shakily behind his back; unable to believe his eyes. "Come on, sit and chat for a little while! I think Jake's gonna be a little late to the party… but he should climb back up aaaaaannnnnnyyyyy time now…"

With grief plaguing his thoughts at the apparent loss of his good friend, Scott stands there as he feels his knees start to wobble. All the while, he tries to figure out what to do about this situation, and what it really calls for…

Kill Luna for the murder, and lose the best pilot they have? Or turn a blind eye and pretend that none of this had even happened?

Making his decision, Scott's teary eyes turn angry as his grip on the weapon tightens considerably; Luna unaware of what's going on as he steps up right in front of her.

"…Scott?"

"Fuck you…" he swears as the first bullet goes into her head. Then another. And another… and another… the boy doesn't stop he's unloaded an entire clip into her brain and left her looking like nothing more than a gory, bullet-ridden corpse.

Upon realizing that there's no way in hell either of them are still alive, Scott sinks to his knees before falling onto his side and weeping uncontrollably. He's always hated having to use guns; hated even being near them in the first place. And yet here he is now, with a used gun in his hand and a series of bullets imbedded into the skull of a person whom he once called a friend. The last two of his friends are dead… and he can't help but feel responsible.

Perhaps if he was here, then just like all those times before, this could've been fully prevented.