RACHEL

The moonlight cuts pale lines across my ceiling as I lie in bed, staring at the cracks and shadows on the plaster. Sleep doesn't come easy these days. It hasn't for a long time. Not since David. Not since I crossed a line I can't come back from.

I keep telling myself that I won't do this again tonight. That I'll shut the window, lock it, and force myself to face the darkness alone.

But I don't.

I can't.

The window's open, just like every night this past week. And every night, Marco shows up.

Sometimes we talk about stupid things that don't matter. Old memories. Bad jokes. School. Sometimes we don't talk at all. He just slips in beside me, warm and steady, like some kind of anchor I didn't know I needed. I don't know why he keeps coming, but he does.

And when he's here, I sleep. Real sleep. The kind that pulls me under without the weight of nightmares. The kind I haven't had since before this war started to tear me apart.

But when morning comes, I wake up to reality. I have to put on the act again.

I smile at my mom and help my sisters with their homework. I sit through boring classes and pretend I care about grades and prom and whatever else normal high school seniors are supposed to care about.

Then, after school, I sneak off for recon missions, watching the Sharing's meetings from the shadows and keeping an eye on the valley, praying the Yeerks don't find the newly free Hork-Bajir. I feel the tension rolling off Jake every time we meet up. We haven't really talked since the big argument last week. Neither of us are big on emotional apologies. We'll just bury it, along with everything else. Until it inevitably explodes again.

The Yeerks are out there, hunting us, furious that we stole that ship. Visser Three is probably losing his mind trying to track us down. And any day now, it's going to come crashing down on us.

I feel that weight pressing on my chest every second of the day.

And yet, somehow, when Marco's here… it lifts.

I cried all over him that night after the ship. After the fight with Jake. I lost control—completely shattered—and Marco was there to catch the pieces. I felt so weak, so raw, but… it helped. More than I want to admit.

Now, I can't stop reaching for him. And he's always there.

I know what he sees when he looks at me. That worry, that care. It's in his eyes every time I catch him watching me when he thinks I'm not looking. Part of me wants to let him in, tell him everything, show him just how dark this war has made me.

But I can't.

If I let him see that side of me, the part that doesn't feel human anymore, the part that craves the fight and doesn't know how to stop… he'd leave. He'd have to.

And right now, he's the only thing holding me together.

So, I do what I always do. I push the darkness down and pretend I'm fine. I tell myself that tomorrow night, I'll keep the window shut. I'll let him go.

But when the sky turns dark, and the world gets too quiet, I can't help but slide it open.

And like clockwork, he's there.

Marco. My best friend. My anchor. My reason to get through another day.

And I fall asleep with his hand in mine, breathing in time with him, pretending that for just a little while, everything will be okay.

/

The air in the ship's warehouse smells of metal and something faintly burnt, a lingering reminder that it didn't come without a fight. The space is massive, stretching into dimly lit corners where weak overhead lights flicker, casting long, jagged shadows across the walls.

Ax moves fluidly through the rows of alien tech, his stalk eyes swiveling as he inspects each device with precise, almost reverent focus. This is his element. He glides between us, his hooves clicking softly against the metal floor, tail twitching with barely restrained energy. Every new discovery sends a flicker of excitement through him—equal parts scientist and warrior, always analyzing, always learning.

Cassie and I? We're just here to move things around and pretend we understand half of what he's saying.

[Ah, this is a Valenzetti Conduit] Ax says, turning it over with practiced ease. [It is used to stabilize anomaly fields during periods of temporal flux. Without the essential numerical code, it is unfortunately useless… but the design is quite sophisticated.]

He studies it for a moment longer, all four eyes focused with something close to awe. Then he sets it down with care, like it's a priceless artifact and not some half-busted alien relic that sounds like it came out of a crazy sci-fi show.

I glance at Cassie. She meets my look with the exact same expression.

Yeah. It's going to be a long day.

I move on by stacking what looks like alien batteries into a crate. It's monotonous work, which is probably why Cassie takes the opportunity to hit me with something I've been trying to avoid.

"So," she says, her tone far too casual. "How are you doing? Have you talked to Jake much?"

I freeze for half a second, then keep moving. "Nah. I think we're… fine," I say, trying to sound just as indifferent. "I've cooled off. He's cooled off. Not much to talk about."

Cassie hums softly, which in Cassie-speak means she doesn't quite believe me but won't push.

She changes tactics. "You know… it'd be nice for all of us to just hang out again. No missions. No school. Just… being together."

I let out a breath and keep organizing weird alien tools. "Yeah, well, that's not exactly our life, is it?"

Cassie doesn't respond right away. I can feel her watching me, like she's reading every crack in my armor.

I try to ignore her stare as I grab another piece of alien metal that Ax had designated as junk and toss it into the bin with more force than necessary.

Cassie just shrugs and bends to pick up some weirdly glowing panel. "Oh," she says, like it's only just occurred to her. "Isn't Marco's birthday coming up?"

The answer slips out before I can stop it. "Yeah. Friday."

Cassie looks up at me, eyebrows raised. I immediately regret speaking.

"Well, do you know if he has plans?" she asks, her voice all deceivingly innocent.

I sigh, already knowing she's not going to drop this until she gets whatever she's after. "I doubt it. His dad's out of town until Saturday for some conference. They're doing something then."

Cassie gives me that look.

"I just… heard him mention it," I add quickly, a little too defensive.

She's quiet for a beat, but I can see the wheels turning in that devious brain of hers. Then, oh so casually, she says, "Shame. I'm sure he'd love to celebrate."

I snort, trying to cover the weird, uncomfortable heat creeping up my neck. "Yeah, I guess. Marco does love being the center of attention."

"Exactly." Cassie grins like the predator she secretly is. "And since Ax has a whole section of the valley cloaked now, and the ship's pretty much cleaned up… wouldn't be too hard to get some cake, music…"

I narrow my eyes at her. "Wait. Are you suggesting we throw him a birthday party?"

Cassie shrugs, all fake nonchalance.

[A birthday party?] Ax's thought-speak voice cuts in, eager and curious. [I have never been to a human birthday party. Will there be food? Perhaps cinnamon buns? Or drinks? Like delicious shampoo?]

I groan. "For the last time, Ax, shampoo is not meant to be consumed."

[Then why is it flavored? Strawberry. Coconut. Vanilla…] he counters, completely serious.

Cassie bursts into laughter, and now she's fully hyping him up. "Oh, we have to do this. It wouldn't be right for Ax to spend all this time on Earth and never experience birthday cake and ice cream."

Ax's stalk eyes swivel toward us. [I suppose I could take a brief recess from my duties to engage in this human custom.]

Fantastic. Now I'm outnumbered.

I sigh and lean against the table. The idea of celebrating feels… wrong. There's a war happening. People are being killed, tortured, enslaved. And we're supposed to throw a party? But then I look at Cassie's hopeful smile, at Ax's eager, alien curiosity, and something in me softens, just a little.

I picture Marco's stupid grin. The way he's been there, night after night, when I leave my window open. The way I actually sleep when he's next to me. The way he never questions, never pushes—just stays.

Maybe… maybe he deserves something good. Maybe we all do.

"Fine," I grumble. "But if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you."

Cassie beams. Ax's tail flicks in excitement.

And me? I pretend I'm doing this for them. Not because I'm imagining exactly how Marco's eyes will light up, that big, lopsided grin he does when he's genuinely happy. Not because I know how much he needs this—how much we all do.

Not because it's something small I can do for him after years of him always being there. For every ridiculous joke he cracked just to pull me out of my own head, for every battle he stood beside me, for every time he got in my way just to make sure I didn't go too far.

Not because it's something small I can do for him after all the years he's always been there. For every ridiculous joke he cracked to pull me out of my own head, for every battle he fought beside me, for every time he stepped in just to make sure I didn't go too far.

The way I feel something shift inside me, something I don't have a name for.

Nope. Definitely not because of any of that.