12 - Connection Reestablished

- Couple

"And here I thought you said you were terrible in close quarters." she scoffs sarcastically in his direction.

"Never said such a thing. I only said I would be as useful as a used teabag." he corrects while chuckling.

"Turns out, that's true comparatively. Did you count how many times I got my rifle strap snagged on something? You on the other hand did not have that issue. You were practically meant for infiltration."

"You calling me small?"

"Only where it needs to count."

"If we weren't trying to be covert, I would've thrown something at you."

"That was a compliment, Einstein."

"Just keep your eyes open for that jammer, Nostradamus."

Trevor is rather surprised by that remark, mainly because he does not know why she called him a quack who thought he could predict the future. But then it hits him. He has good vision, but with his sniper rifle instead of his imagination. Impressed by her quick retort, he is glad he rubbed off on her in that regard at least.

Only about fifteen minutes ago, they were still on the street. Just entering the neighborhood where Trevor knew the way much better. Which is a shame for him, because despite the neighborhood not being that good before, it is still his home. The sight of stores ransacked, property destroyed and general infrastructure destroyed, hurt him. In the rubble of a jewelry store however, he did succumb to the urge to forage for something useful. And so did Patches, despite her insistence that it was morally wrong. Gold has a certain attraction after all.

After decking themselves out in some leftover bling, including a new watch for Trevor and a nice necklace for her, they continue on in search for the jammer. He had a feeling about the tower's location and the best place to find it is on top of the tallest building in the immediate area.

Even at the ground floor, Patches had her snark meter set to ten and could not resist asking him why he was not good at close quarters. She got her answer quite quickly, as the layout of a more cramped apartment building with weapons drawn and firing. Sound does not spread out very well, meaning that those earpieces are absolute blessings. Fulfilling an unexpected noise-canceling role.

There are no Aparoids around but there were infected and uninfected armed goons spread around. All seemed to have fought amongst each other at some point until some kind of unspoken ceasefire was declared. But with Mr Bones and Ms Patches' unexpected entrance, this was thrown to the wind. They were recognized and when their names were uttered, gunfire engulfed the inside of the building. Those unarmed hid and locked their doors. Those armed could not care less about that; they had to shoot each other to stay safe themselves. Sometimes it was more organized gangs and sometimes people who never held a weapon ever in their lives.

Seeing those unfamiliar with weapons point a gun at them, trembling like a leaf is not something one can forget easily. Especially for that person to be shot dead in the head by someone he thinks he could control a fully-automatic machine pistol if he held it one-handed and "gangsta" style. Which Patches quickly put a stop to by teaching that criminal the proper way to hold that thing; she shoots his hand and while shrieking in pain, the gun is dropped.

Going completely in character, she holsters her pistol temporarily, grabs the wannabe gangster by the collar and drags him over to the man he just shot. While loudly stating that "Ms Patches should whoop your ass". But she has a different idea about punishing him. Once close enough, she drops him face first on the blood stain that he caused on the floor. And then makes sure this guy sees what he did because he tried to be so brave. So badass. So gangster.

"Enjoy your work, punk!" she shouted to him before she was unable to hold her anger back anymore and stomped down on his back.

In the meantime, Trevor has probably snagged himself on too many things for comfort. Feeling more lucky than professional but surviving anyway. Now Patches knows why but as long as they get through this she does not care. Stairwell after stairwell, they clean house and less and less people want to fight them anymore.

"The rumors must be true!"

"These two are killing machines!"

"Go, Bones and Patches!" are only a few things being yelled at them and they get more positive the less people try and fight them. If that is out of admiration or just fear is unknown but it suits them.

On the last few floors they meet no resistance. Which gives them a moment to breathe. In fact, they were even very carefully stopped by one resident and her family so they could profuse their admiration for the couple. Which was kind of awkward for the both of them, pretending to be a couple to begin with. But they seemed to have pulled it off, because after receiving some snacks that this family could miss, they excitedly returned back to their apartment after meeting these heroes.

For Bones and Patches, it is kind of unbelievable how fast this was spread around. Those drones must have been operating in groups or had an enormous stock of those posters. It is somewhat overwhelming, feeling like they do not deserve it. So when they manage to reach the roof, it is a relief not to have to deal with that. One can want popularity but once faced with it, it can be very overwhelming. Therefore, to make absolutely sure that they will not be disturbed, they made sure to lock and partially barricade the door leading back inside.

Now left by themselves and having a lovely view over the dilapidated neighborhood, they scan the horizon for that jammer. Trevor, lying prone, uses only his scope while Patches uses the night sight while standing up straight. Just like how it was before they tackled the goon squad.

And as she does, she inevitably crosses over where Trevor lies. Ever the cheeky rabbit, or maybe as a way to resume what she started back at the first jammer, she looks down at his behind. Whatever the intention was, the end result raises a question; where is this man's tail?

How has she never noticed before? It is not a hard thing to miss, given that pretty much everyone in Lylat has one but the absence of one has passed her by completely. Now there is curiosity, although she has a sneaking suspicion that there is a reason why Trevor himself never brought it up…

"Trevor?"

"Found something?"

"In a way… may I ask why you have… like, no tail?" she asks a little hesitantly.

The question positively piques Trevor's interest but then drops him into a series of flashing images and the sound of screaming inside his head. There is a horrible noise, like metal and aluminum smashing themselves against something harder at high speed. The sound of a frontal car crash. Blood, smoke, tears and pain plague him and then seeing that face. The familiar face of a massive bastard. Whose head is currently turned to the side as it lies against the inflated airbag. There is the wish that it might have broken that man's neck.

"Car crash." Trevor answers, now audibly ticked off.

"I was 11. I think. My father took me for a ride. There was a car crash. A pole he didn't see. My tail got stuck between two pieces of metal it shouldn't be stuck between. It had to be amputated lest I… well, I wouldn't be here at all."

"Ouch! I'm so sorry Trevor…" she sympathizes with shock.

She never expected the story to be rosy but at a young age losing a body part like that.

"Thanks Patch. You know… I had a feeling I shouldn't come along with that car ride. Like a vision. But had no other choice. Because if I didn't come along, the bastard would've forced my mom in too." Trevor continues, as the resuming and repeated images continue to plague him.

"Bastard? What bastard?" Patches asks, slowly creeping closer to Trevor so as to not scare him.

In case he needs some physical support, like a hug or a shoulder. She can already feel it in her bones; whoever this bastard was or still is, this is personally heavy for him.

"My dad. He was… rather persuasive in that way. Especially when he drank too much. Very persuasive." Trevor emphasizes as he clenches his left fist, just like he would.

"He decided in his drunken wisdom that it was time for a ride. And he would take his only son along. I could've said no… but I couldn't do that to mom. Or we would've taken her along too."

Patches does not need her sensitive ears to hear him start to sniffle.

"I wish he had died that day. Instead, he lived. Sure, he was arrested. But not for the abuse that…"

He tries to continue but an emotional lump in the throat stops him from doing so. All that comes at is a mild croaking noise as he chokes up. Then he straightens himself out. There is a time and place.

"So yeah, that's the tale of how I lost my tail." he chuckles on the wrong side of this mouth.

"One positive at least: I can't possibly get that thing snagged on anything. Otherwise I would've been utterly useless in this building."

His smile is forced and he looks like only a slight breeze away from breaking. Considering the subject sensitivity, Patches sympathizes once again. Which he appreciates. But they should really focus on finding that jammer. Hesitant, she complies and resumes her searching. And so does he.

He feels terrible. Both because he had to recall all those memories but also because she wanted to help and he did not allow her. Then again, there would be nothing she could do. It is better that he also resumes looking for that jammer. He puts his eye back into the scope and takes a deep breath. And after a few more moments of searching, he finds it.

"Got it. Fuck…"

The last word he said as quietly as possible. Patches runs back over and is directed to where it is. She is obviously delighted and already starts mentally projecting the best route to get there. But she notices that Trevor is not looking all too pleased about it. When she asks about it, Trevor replies that he knows where that is.

"That's very close to my apartment. I already started living with her before I was sent out to Macbeth. Very likely she stayed there the whole time."

"I'm absolutely sure she's fine, Trevor. Don't you worry." she tries consoling him, without too much effect.

So she proposes something else completely. Maybe a bit out of the blue and not exactly the time and place either, but it is better than nothing. She sits down beside him, causing him to look away from his scope for a moment. Exactly the intention, distract him for that moment.

"Tell you what; What can lil' ol' me do to make you just a little bit happier?" she asks with just a sprinkle of her slightly improved southern accent and with a broad, sincere smile gracing her face.

But Trevor is not really in the mood it seems. He appreciates the thought but right now there is not really anything she can do to cheer him up. He has to go through this. It will be tough but in the end it might be worth it.

As he goes to put his eye back on the scope, he suddenly gets struck with something that she could do. But it would not be something she did with her hands or what she could get for him, instead it would be a response. So instead of scoping back in, he looks behind him, to his back pocket. He reaches in and pulls out a locket that he found while scouring through that jewelry store.

"Here. I got this for you." he says trying to keep himself as cheery as possible as he hands it over.

She is quite perplexed by this and at first hesitant to take it. When she does, she sees it is a gold-plated, octagonal locket. With a very crude "A" carved into the back of it. Still in disbelief, she presses the little button on the side and it opens, revealing two empty positions for her to fill with pictures.

Trevor sees that she is not getting the thought behind this gift yet, so he tells her how the one thing she was allowed to keep for herself, was the picture of her mother which she normally kept in her wallet. He could not find a wallet but he found this little thing. At least then the picture would not be damaged or bent.

When what he says connects in her head, does she realize the magnitude of the gesture he just gave her. Almost on instinct, she reaches into her pocket and takes out the picture. With an almost trembling hand, she slides it behind the glass casing. And there she is. Her mother in her full glory. Safe and sound inside a small locket gifted by someone who has already given her so much. On top of everything else, the necklace she is wearing has an empty bail; she can keep close to her at all times.

It still confuses her how and why he did this? Why would this make him happy? She tries to rationalize with it while struggling to keep herself from getting too emotional.

"If anything makes me smile, it is seeing my friends happy. Call me a happiness leech but the last thing I want is those I care about looking sad. I saw how happy you got when that picture was returned to you. It was the least I could do."

"Why… I don't…?"

She does not know whether to hug him or pry open his head to see what the hell he is thinking doing this for her? Like that, out of the blue. But it is working, as she can see him start to lighten up because of her response.

"I made sure it would be able to fit two pictures. One of your mom and the other could be for your new potential romantic partner. Your new "lovey dovey"."

Now there is the Trevor she knows very well. There is always something to it that makes it scathing towards her. In a positive way.

"Firstly, I can't thank you enough for this. Secondly, I am not going to call him my lovey-dovey. Trust me. But in all seriousness, thank you so much Trevor. I really appreciate it."

Trevor shrugs modestly.

"I gotta keep my Ms Patches happy. Otherwise, what kind of husband would I be?"

She is now very tempted to give him a smack on the back of the head but puts that off for a while now. There is a time and place for that. Instead, she goes in for the hug which is graciously returned by him.

"Hey Trevor?"

"Hm?"

"She's gonna be alright. I promise you."

His hug around her grows tighter.

- Signal Lost

Going back down that apartment building was much easier now that everyone kept out of the way. And more importantly stopped shooting at them. A wise lesson learned.

Another person who learned their lesson, would be that "gangster". The family of the killed man has taken the killer into their home. It can be safely assumed that he got an earful and maybe even a slap. Nothing more than this person would deserve, however things have calmed down. It is still very tense but he is showing remorse for his actions. It does help to some degree.

The police cannot be called, so he will likely be confined to this apartment until normality returns. His wound has been treated as best as the family could and he has even been served something to drink. The glass is still full however.

At the ground floor, they find a small collection of residents that have been trying to escape the violence above. At first, they are frightened by their appearance. In particular the drawn weapons create a scenario where panic is inevitable. However, when Trevor holsters his revolver carefully, slowly and Patches does the same with her two pistols, the situation calms down again.

One of the people in the crowd recognizes them. The person holds up a poster they had found on the street. Severely crumpled up but still readable, other people start to look at it. The pair are tempted to strike the same pose as is depicted on the poster but that image was not exactly kept properly in either of their memory banks, so they leave it be. If only to avoid something awkward.

Now the atmosphere has turned around completely. There is still commotion, but it is positive at least. Bones and Patches cannot stay for the party though, they got their target to get to. Thankfully the crowd lets them through, under the impression that the pair must do more vigilante justice. And they would be lying if it was not at least to be praised like this. It is almost like they are costumed superheroes.

About half an hour later, they are where they are supposed to be. A small square with a fountain in the middle. One that is not working but then again, it never did. The trees that once surrounded it have been reduced to coal and ash. The footpath has been cracked and simply turned into a crater in some locations. Just like the square close to the Metro Station and the junction at the start of their Zone journey, this has been a place of intense battle. And the Aparoids have sadly won.

Although their numbers are much smaller now, they are still around and maybe now even more dangerous than ever. Like a cornered beast, they can still lash out. And they are still Aparoids. They can infect and turn you to their side. So getting reckless is not recommended.

All of this is a bitter pill for Trevor to swallow. This is his place, his immediate environment. One he planned to share for a long time with his girlfriend until he saved up enough to move somewhere else. It piques him to no end but he has to maintain his calm. For now.

His mood clears up fairly well once he sees that his apartment building is not the one with the jammer stuck into it, but instead the building across from it. Even better; the tumorous growth has settled on the apartments of a particular group of youngsters. Well, not really young by any means. Definitely legal to drive but acting like edgy thirteen-year-olds. They were in fact what the young man in the stairwell tried to be; good with weapons.

And they used this to their full advantage. Never using them to kill, only to threaten. Not always for money or jewelry either, but just be fun. Gaining fear factor was their goal. Always out of sight of the police and never caught. A total terror group who hopefully now got their grim comeuppance. Whether they are dead or cocooned to be used as a power source, he does not care. They deserve worse.

He tells this to Patches and she responds in a more mild way. Comparing the situation of the innocent, ambushed family being cocooned to the possibility of those sadists suffering the same fate… she might not give them mercy as quickly. But that they should be punished is all too clear. Just maybe not in this gruesome way.

Trevor however is steadfast in his belief that it is for the best. He does realize it is very harsh but sometimes people relinquish their right to compassion from him when they start putting knives to the throats of old people. Just for the fun and rush of it. In that, she can see reason.

But they are not there to discuss how criminals should be punished. After all, she is no longer a police officer so it is no longer her concern. Instead, they formulate a plan similar to the plan of the previous encounter with the jammer. Trevor will support from the building across and Patches will go in to disable it. Once it is down, they will meet up near the fountain and then go into Trevor's apartment to face the inevitable. And keep the hope alive that she is also alive still.

"Right, step one then. Let's get you in position." Patches states, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'll run to the door, give 'em a lil' lovetap will ya?"

"That southern accent is getting better and more annoying. Soon enough, you'll long for lemonade and sweet tea." he chuckles in response.

"That sounds delicious. I bet I could convince Herg to try that."

"He'll probably think it's the purest form of heresy."

"He'll have to deal with it. Right, go and tap 'em!"

She pats on this shoulder one last time. The number has been given. Trevor takes aim and manages to pop one gormless bug's eye like a balloon. Without too much screeching, the creature succumbs to gravity and Trevor hides behind his cover. The Aparoids around are now alerted and to make the confusion all the better, he looks around for the biggest and baddest one. Assuming they work with prison rules, this will cause even more chaos. The second shot silently rings out and burrows itself straight through the most imposing insect's forehead. It too goes along with the pull of gravity and falls over backwards on its back, making quite the racket.

"That doesn't feel nice now, does it?" Trevor mumbles to himself, wishing it was the hybrid that caused him that awful back ache.

In the meantime, Patches has found her opportunity to run to the entrance of the apartment building. The door is mostly composed of glass so kicking it in could risk cutting her leg open. It has an electronic lock but also a normal lock that fits a key. Which can be smashed. She takes the assault rifle and uses the butt of it to smash the lock to pieces. The electronic lock has been circumvented so the door opens without much resistance.

Patches gestures to Trevor to come over, which he does the moment his magazine is empty and the anarchy within the Aparoid ranks is complete. Underway he reloads his rifle and sees his position already. One downside is that it has no way for Patches to descend down like she did before. It is too high and there is only the street to catch her. No matter how good the strength of her legs are, he can already see her crumple like an accordion from that. And running all the way down those stairs will only take time he is not willing to sacrifice.

During this whole thought process, he occasionally keeps an eye on the ultimate goal; his apartment. The windows of it are boarded up like everyone else's. Smart, attracts less attention. Especially at night. Then his mind shifts back to the now and kneels down beside Patches.

"Well done. Change of plans though; I got this building on my own." he states a little bit out of breath.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"No time for discussion. I got this. Stay here and wait until you see another Aparoid drop, then you run."

She is still a little perplexed but quickly comes to it. She nods and Trevor goes in. She cannot hear any gunshots from him so it must be safe all the way up. As tempting as it is to look up and hope to spot his silencer poke out of a window or hole, she has to keep an eye on the square ahead of her. It is not a very big square but that only makes the small concentration of Aparoids only seem larger.

The familiar sound of an entire tire deflating in the span of a second is then vaguely heard and instantly after another Aparoid keels over dead. That is her cue; she sets off like she has to run for the Olympic record. With her two pistols drawn, she feels like she is an action movie and she is the protagonist.

She reaches the apartment building she needs to be in. The door design is much the same, however in the reflection of this one, she can see the faint glint of Trevor's scope. She looks back and can faintly see him wave from another massive hole that has been blown into the building's fourth floor. At least she presumes; hard to see from that far away. However it is rude not to at least return something and knowing he can see her very well with that sniper scope, she gives a quick salute before returning to the door.

No rifle butt needed this time as the door was never locked. She gets in and closes the door behind her. In case any Aparoid wanted to get in. Now she is in and the inside looks both modernized and yet very old. The ceiling is so low she almost has to have both ears bent. However, it is done in a modern style with modern, lightweight materials. This type of renovation has been done everywhere. It gives a comfortable and yet cheap impression. Like painting over rot or rust. Not to address the issue but to hide it.

But as long as it keeps the roof from collapsing right on her head, it does not matter too much. And even better; the elevator in this one seems to still work. Although it is risky, she has been on the move non-stop since the earlier afternoon, only stopping once for maybe slightly more than a quarter of an hour. It will be a moment of deserved comfort.

She enters and presses the button to the highest floor. As the elevator doors close after a pleasant ding, she leans against the side of the right wall. She sighs deep and fetches the locket from her pocket. Her current and potential future guardian angel safely incased. Given by her partner. A small but very impactful thing and gesture. If anything is keeping her standing up straight, it is definitely those three people.

She still has some time left so attaches the locket to the necklace. It is then that she once again notices the "A" that has been etched into the back. So either Trevor found a knife or used his own teeth to cut it in. Although crude, it is another thing that makes it that bit more personal.

Then the elevator stops and the doors open. No welcoming committee. Which is a shame because she had her pistols already drawn in the meantime. Now she has no one to pump full of lead. But maybe there are more chances for that up ahead.

She walks out of the elevator and turns the corner. A walkway stretches out before her, with the apartment doors to the right and the square down below, only seperated by a white painted guard rail. And obviously, the disgusting growth that forms the basis for that jammer.

It looks like minced meat that has been sitting outside of the fridge for a week, started moving within its own mass and was then glazed in grape juice. A revolting combination that has sprouted its roots everywhere, like an ancient tree. She would like nothing more than to burn it down.

As she approaches the organic mass, Trevor has finished plaguing the Aparoids with silent death, making the few survivors run for their lives. An interesting tactic, considering that self-preservation has never been high on their list. They are just pawns, unimportant to the greater scheme of the hivemind and easily replaced.

He un-scopes so he has a better view of the surroundings. But he sees next, he needs to scope in to believe. As he watches Patches from far away, his attention is drawn to the top of the building. There stands a large and familiar silhouette. He quickly returns to this scope and sees it is that hybrid from before. He is both shocked and delighted. Now is his chance for revenge.

Without thinking twice, he aims for the thing's head and fires. It does not seem to phase it that much however and only serves to draw this thing's attention to him. And it recognizes him too. With quite a large amount of cursing, Trevor pulls the bolt back on his rifle to chamber the next shot while the monster starts running over the roof.

The stomping is heard and felt by Patches, who is frantically looking for the source. She does not have to wait long as the hybrid starts walking over the jammer. She can see its underside and also recognizes it. So her natural reaction is to aim for those boils. But the hybrid is unphased and instead uses the jammer as a diving board and he cannonballs straight down into the middle of the square with a massive splash. The fountain is reduced to rubble but the water can now spray freely out of the once blocked pipe. It does not phase the creature at all either.

What it does phase, is the status of its legs. Despite the mutation, this height was too much for them not to buckle and break. It is pretty much what Trevor imagined how Patches would be if she had been with him and jumped out like before. Instead of horrifying, with the hybrid being the victim, it is actually quite humorous now.

But it bothers the hybrid not at all. Instead, it lifts up its arms towards the jammer and starts sapping it for energy. Some kind of wireless connection combined with a magnetic attraction, which causes the jammer to bend in its direction and even forcing it out of alignment with its base. A faint blue-ish circle that envelops the tower starts to flicker and crackle as the tower is bended in the direction of the hybrid. And while the tower and its defenses suffer, the monster's legs grow back. Within a few more seconds, it stands tall on both of them. As well as that, the boils have grown back. To celebrate this, it lets out another one of those massively loud and impressive roars.

Once the creature is done, it turns its attention right back at Trevor who shot him in the forehead before. It grabs a piece of the fountain and hurls it right at his position. Wide-eyed he sees it approaching with great speed and he rolls away to his right behind the nearby wall. The rubble flies in and smashes through the wall that was behind him. Under heavy breathing, he lets loose a curse and is thankful he was not on the receiving end. But now it is personal.

"Language!" he then hears Patches condemn in his ear.

The sternness is clearly audible, despite the audio quality being very bad. But that he could hear her speak at all. He did not imagine it.

"Patch? That you?"

Now it clicks with her too. She was able to hear Trevor curse and respond in kind. Which he in turn heard as well.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Did you just say… language?" he asks, entertained.

She sighs.

"Can we talk about that later? That thing must have drained power from the jammer, causing it to fail. Not completely but enough to make it possible to communicate."

"Would you say that the connection is a little… patchy?" he chortles, much to her disdain which soon turns into mild amusement as she hears him trying to hold back his laughing.

"Could we focus? Let's pop some boils on that thing and call it a day."

That suggestion is well received and as he is itching for some revenge, he rolls back into his own position and snaps onto the boil at the monster's right shoulder blade. And before the creature has any time to react, it is popped. Its response is subdued as Patches from the other side starts lighting him up with her assault rifle. It raises its left arm up to protect itself from her firestorm, but this only helps Trevor get a good look at the boil on its elbow.

Another shriek is let out by this thing as it sees its predicament. It therefore bends over, allowing those tentacles protruding from its back the freedom to operate properly. They tense up and then shoot out like harpoons in their directions.

"Move!" Trevor shouts as he rolls away to his left to avoid receiving a facefull of tentacle.

It was also a good decision in terms of direction, as another tentacle just smashed right through the right wall he hid behind previously. The back of his head would have been impaled otherwise. Patches on the other side dove away, as its other two tentacles went in her directions. Smashing the guard rail she was resting the rifle on, the window that was next to her back right.

Once both confirm they are alright and the harpoon tentacles are returning to the creature's back, they resume their fire on this thing. Managing to pop the boil on the back of its neck, leaving on the one of its right elbow and left shoulder blade intact. And the creature knows this all too well.

It therefore starts retreating, walking away backwards to shield the remaining boils as much as possible. It gets the best opportunity to do this, once Patches has to reload. Not used to reloading that type of weapon, it takes a little longer than she would like. This is something that does not sit well with Trevor at all, because the building he is most likely trying to enter and hide in… is his apartment building.

It was personal before but now it is so much more than that. Trevor orders Patches to suppress that thing as much as possible by aiming for its head. Even though that does not do anything, it will have him shield itself and therefore not move that much. She does this and as predicted, it raises its hand up to block her fire while standing still. Like it was trying to stop Solar from shining in its eyes. A silent cough of cordite later however and the creature has one eye less to cover.

It screams again and this time loses its balance, falls backwards and hits the floor just in front of the building. Trevor breathes out relieved but knows this is not over yet. Another empty casing is ejected from the chamber when he notices something he recognizes something attached to the creature's hip. Fused to it, is an Aparoid core. The egg-shaped thing that they have sent here to capture and bring back. His eyes light up like he has just found gold. And in a way, he did. Now to cut it loose.

- Home

Patches will take care of the jammer while Trevor will surgically remove the core from the currently knocked out hybrid. The area around it looks suitably fleshy and therefore be cut. The knife will be substituted for his bullets and methodically he goes to work to separate the fleshy substance from the core.

Patches meanwhile has gotten to work on her previous idea of lighting that thing on fire. The combination of its sickening color, the fact that it moves on its own within its square confines and its purpose makes her queasy. Better get rid of it.

She therefore goes on a bit of a pillaging tour of a nearby apartment. She enters the apartment through the window that was broken by the tentacle. She steals some hairspray and a gas lighter from it. And then she goes to work. After a few clicks on the lighter, she gets a pretty good flame going.

She is a bit hesitant to spray the contents of this aerosol filled bottle and have herself a bootleg flamethrower. But her hatred and revulsion of this fleshy Aparoid heap wins over reason. She makes sure to kick the glassy sheen to pieces and then, with a press of the button a bright jet of flame erupts. And it does wonders to the squirming, cursed minced meat pile as it catches on fire instantly. Spreading throughout the entire structure. The purple turns to black very quickly and it quickly turns into a lovely inferno that starts to envelop the jammer itself too.

Knowing what happened with the previous host building, she decides not to stay and legs it in the opposite direction. Ignoring the elevator this time, as taking a risk is okay once. Doing it again is just asking for it. After descending many stairs and receiving a new appreciation for people who do that to keep in shape, she is finally back on the ground floor.

There she sees the thing still knocked out on the ground and Trevor shooting at its side? She asks him about it and he says that this thing has the Aparoid core they have been looking for. He is trying to cut it loose but with one bullet at a time it takes time. However, she could help with her weapons and then quickly snatch it.

"Are you crazy? You want me anywhere near that thing?!"

"You wanna get out of here? Our ticket is right there! Rip it off like a bandaid, shoot everything around it all to hell, I don't care!"

Almost spitefully, she wants to retort by saying that he could get it himself if he wanted it so badly. But she needs it too. Otherwise, it is over for her. Grumbling but now properly motivated, she runs towards it. Avoiding Aparoid corpses and rubble along the way. Trevor would be lying if he thought that it is not impressive to see her work. Fast, agile and graceful on top of that. She had to be a gymnast at one point, he knows that for sure.

He stops firing once she is close enough and now points the crosshair at the creature's eye, which is slowly regenerating itself. He tells her she has maybe about 30 or so seconds to cut it loose and get out of there. Pondering on what to do, she remembers that spray and the lighter she took. She did not drop it, instead brought it along with her.

She makes sure not to aim anywhere close to the core and then goes to work. Much like the humble beginnings the now mighty blazing jammer had, the flesh turns black and starts peeling away if not straight turning to ash. Once the core is only held on by a slither, does she stop. She grabs the egg with both hands and rips it off like the aforementioned bandage.

"Attah girl, Patch!" Trevor shouts out in jubilation.

"Now, run to me and… Run!" he then shouts in a completely different tone as he sees the eye has already reformed and is looking none too pleased about what has happened.

Patches sees this too and bolts with the core held underneath her arm, almost tripping over her own feet as she does. The hybrid starts swinging its claws at her, regains its footing and ignores the fire from Trevor completely as it has its eyes on the prize. Trevor keeps trying his best to distract it as it starts moving out of his arc of fire and pushing Patches into a corner.

Then it hears a small crack beneath its feet. It is unexpected enough for the creature to acknowledge this. It stops, lifts up its foot and looks down.

It can see it is a name tag, now shattered of course. But the name that was displayed on it is still readable. Martin. It remains standing there and staring. Patches notices this and turns around, pointing her pistol with her remaining hand at it.

"Martin!" she calls out fearlessly, while internally trying her utmost not to piss herself from pure terror.

The creature responds subdued but enough to where the two now have eye contact.

"That's your name right? Or at least what you used to be? You've lost. I will never return this core to you. And you have caused the destruction of your species' jammer. Look behind you, you can see it."

Again subdued but still going along with it, the creature turns its head and upper body around so it is now witness to the total collapse of the jammer. The foundation that kept it attached to the building gives in and the weight of the redhot tower is too much. It snaps off and it falls to the floor engulfed in flames. All that was flesh burns to black and ash.

Then a shot rings out and the second-to-last boil on its right arm is popped. It shrieks in pain and looks back at where it came from. Patches' barrel is smoking.

"You want your last one to pop too? Try us!" she says sternly.

And her facial expression does not lie.

"Stalemate then." it calls out, glitchy and weary.

"You will never give up but are easy to kill. But so are we."

It looks strangely content with this assessment. Although she can see signs of struggle in its expression. Like something or someone is making its muscles tense up erratically. It starts backing up before turning around in a flash and making its way to the fountain he just destroyed. To dive back into the sewers and recover.

But not without a memento from Nova 7 as Trevor misses the last boil but manages to lodge his bullet into the back of its head where it is a lot more spongy. With a satisfying scream, it manages to escape into the underground again but no longer in mint condition.

Trevor raises his middle finger up at it as a final insult to injury and then the rumbling stops. Silence returns to the square. Not an awkward or foreboding one, but rather a comfortable one. Like one would like to have on a relaxing vacation with a nice cold drink to their side. It means peace, for the jammer is completely done and the neighborhood can come to life again. Then he notices a change in the light level of the environment; behind one of the barricades, a light has been turned on.

Down at the ground level, Ashley can let out a sigh of relief. She nearly drops the core and her gun on the floor as she does so. She was at the cusp of cracking, so tense was this encounter. She could not pull the trigger when it turned its back because of that. But at least she remembered its name, or at least what its name used to be at one point. The thing reacted and responded to it. Deep down there is still a person in there, hidden within that hideous mutation.

She holsters her pistol and picks up the remains of the name tag. It came in handy before, it might do so again. Then she takes a good look at this egg-shaped macguffin. It does not weigh that much for its size. It is more uncomfortable to hold than anything. No wonder why Trevor taped it to his radio before. Maybe he could do that again.

Then she sees him appear before her, running like hell itself was chasing him. Only to stop to pick her up and pull her along. She barely has time to ask why and pulls back strongly, not feeling like being the duck on a string. He quickly apologizes for his hurry but that light he saw being turned on, that was in his apartment.

Now she realizes the severity and starts running with him, quipping "What are we waiting for then?!" which makes Trevor almost wish that those claws had actually made contact with her.

The door of the apartment building is still locked however so the two stand on either side of it, like the professionals they claim to be. Trevor talks some courage into himself while Patches realizes she is leaning against the bell. She quickly pulls off but then the door buzzes and opens.

Not completely trusting this, they go in guns drawn. The elevator is working but they are not taking that risk. Slowly they walk up the stairs, keeping their eyes peeled. And to Patches' surprise, Trevor is not snagging himself on anything. Instead, he seems hyper focused. To the point that he might as well be in a different dimension.

And in a way he is. A thousand and one thoughts go through his head right now. Some nice, some horrific. He wants nothing more than those positive thoughts to be true. Cold sweat runs down his neck and his heart beats in his throat. He is trapped in complete autopilot.

Then he stops, just before his goal. A big splatter of purple blood is on the floor and on the wall opposite of this apartment door. There is even some residue on the door itself. Something has been shot here. An Aparoid? Or do his eyes deceive him and is that red? Not purple? It shifts from moment to moment and he feels himself going insane. Only to be awoken by Patches, who has managed to catch up.

"Wha…? Oh… it's you. I nearly swung at you." he sighs.

"Good thing you didn't then. You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. I don't know what we'll find in there so stay close to me."

He can feel her hand on his shoulder, just like they had done back at Herg's lair. The sign of trust is given so Trevor reaches over to the knob on the door. Now he really wishes he had not lost his keys shortly after arrival to Corneria, but who starts looking for those while you are overrun by bugs? But to his surprise, twisting the knob actually works. He can hear and feel the latch move back and the door opens inward.

He is slightly shocked by this but then kicks back into that autopilot. With his revolver primed and ready he slams his shoulder into the door and enters his own apartment, with Patches right behind him. He takes the right, kneels down so she has a clear view of anything to their left.

Then a somewhat perplexed feminine voice, smooth like butter and with a native Lylatian accent, wonders what in the name of sweet f*****g s**tnuggets just barged into her apartment. And the first response of Trevor is to smile profusely… because he is home.

His revolver falls to the floor with a dull thud onto the laminated floor below him. He stands up and drops his rifle too. The radio goes next. All care seems to have been thrown to the wayside as he now stands with arms wide open. Then another thing falls to the ground; a pan that the person from whom the feminine voice came held before. This impact leaves much more of a mark but that too is something to be worried about later. The wooden ladle remains held in hand.

"T-Trevor?" the voice quivers in disbelief and relief combined.

"Cal. You're okay… I was…"

He does not know where to begin, let alone where to end. But he does not have to as soon enough his canine girlfriend has already planted her lips against his and has him imprisoned in her arms. And her leg hooking around his for good measure. Because she is not letting him go anytime soon.

Patches has seen enough to understand that all's well that ends well, holsters her pistol and closes the door behind the reunited couple. He is home after all and she better be at her best behavior as their guest.