"Oh my God! Callista! You're okay!" Sam exclaims as I stumble towards the gates, tired and sweaty and hungry. "I've been worried sick about you! What happened in that basement? Where's your backpack and jacket?"

"I'll tell you all about it as soon as you let me in," I say, slowing down to a walk.

The ache in my legs quickly spreads to the other parts of my body. I think the pain was always there, but now that safety is a mere few feet away, I'm just now beginning to notice it. While the run home wasn't exactly dangerous, I still feel exhaustion gnaw at my bones.

"Uh, right. Right. Raise the gates!"

The alarm goes off, like it always does as the gates go up, and I wipe away the sweat from my forehead as I shuffle inside Abel, my legs feeling like lead.

Someone has to go get Maxine to inspect me for infection. I guess they weren't expecting me to be back so soon, although it's been a good two hours since I lost contact. Even after getting out of that lab with the spiders, I couldn't raise Sam.

I think the only reason he came in now was because he saw me on cams.

I think some people were beginning to think I wasn't coming back at all, judging by the surprised stares from those around me.

I scoff, waiting for Sam to comment, but he doesn't. It only takes me a minute to come to the realization that he's probably left the coms shack to come meet me. Shame twists at my insides at the reminder of how much he loves me and how I only put him through more stress.

Sam reaches me just as Maxine does, and he doesn't hesitate to follow me into the tent, eyes searching for even the slightest scratch, even though he knows as well as I do that he won't find anything.

I shed my smelly clothes, letting Maxine poke and prod at me with gentle hands.

"What happened?" Sam asks, and I swear I can see the gears turning in his head as he studies me, my drained expression and slumped posture.

"Did you get the V-Types to the facility for Veronica?" I ask, not answering right away. Sam's face pinches in aggravation at me avoiding the question.

"All but the one that chased you down," Maxine replies, stepping away from me. "You're clean. No cuts, no bruises, no spider bites either. Sam told me he saw some from your headcam before you shut the door and everything cut out."

"I didn't shut that door," I say, slipping my clothes back on. "And those spiders tried to do a lot worse than bite me. Veronica said they were a Ministry bioweapon that burrowed under your skin to lay eggs and then the babies eat you from the inside out when you hatch. My flashlight was the only thing that kept me safe."

"Veronica?" Sam blinks. "She talked to you?"

"She saved me. I would have died if she hadn't come in," I reply, running my hand through my hair. Without her, my fate would have been worse than death. "She told me to tell you she'd be in touch, and that she's... she's still her. She sounded like Veronica, and she... yeah. She told me to tell you guys that."

"Is there anything else she said?" Maxine asks as I stand.

"It was a lot of Veronica talk-too smart for my sixth-grade education to understand." It's a good enough lie. Making myself look stupid makes it more believable. "I know you have a lot of questions, but can I please go take a shower? I feel disgusting."

She nods. "Of course. I can go tell Janine you're back, and that you talked to Veronica. She'll want to hear about it too."

"And Peter?" I ask, biting the inside of my cheek. "Is he... his hand..."

"He's okay, hurting, but okay. He'll be glad to hear you're back."

I nod, not entirely satisfied with that answer. "I uh, I'm gonna just go shower then. Sam, can I talk to you while I head over there?"

He doesn't even answer, just follows me as I walk out of the tent and to the showers. I wait until we're out of earshot of anyone before I speak.

"There's something else I need to tell you about Veronica," I whisper, and he stiffens slightly. "She asked me not to tell anyone, but... well, you're my husband, and I don't-I don't want to keep secrets from you."

"Oh." A surprised, smile and a blush slowly spreads across his face. God, it's a beautiful sight. "You really are making progress with your whole 'opening up' thing."

"Character development, I guess. But I... please don't tell anyone else. Veronica begged me, but I just wouldn't feel right keeping it from you."

His smile fades at my serious tone. "What is it?"

"Veronica... glitched when we were together. She became overwhelmed, overtaxed. She froze, couldn't remember what we were doing. There were a good few minutes I was running alone with those spiders around me. Those spiders were photosensitive. The light was the only thing keeping me safe and it was flickering and Veronica... left me.

"She came back, and she saved me when my flashlight did go out, but it was scary. The spiders were on my backpack and jacket. I had to throw them off because of it. So we're down a backpack now. Sorry."

Sam shakes his head. "No, it-it's fine. What... why did she..."

"She said her mind was still too human, and that it's not able to admit that it has the processing power. I... she asked me not to tell because she was afraid Janine wouldn't trust her if she knew. But I had to tell you."

"I see," He says slowly. His eyebrows are knit together in thought when we finally reach the showers. The slight frown on his face deepens when I let out a heavy sigh.

"That's not all." I head to my locker, grabbing out my change of clothes. It hurts to admit it, especially when Sam is staring at me in such an innocent way. "She knows... about me."

"What?" The word comes out as a mere whisper, and he grabs my hand. The contact offers the slightest bit of comfort, soft and warm and just Sam.

"She knows about me being immortal."

"Wh-I don't... how?"

"She says she's been monitoring Abel's coms when she can. She apparently was able to listen in when I took a trip to one of Van Ark's bases. She doesn't know who all knows. She believes it's just you, but guesses there might be others. She said she'd help me if I kept her secret to myself."

"Then why did you risk telling me?"

"Because you're my husband and I'm tired of lying all the time," I say, ripping my headset off. I turned it off when I went through the gates, but if Veronica is somehow listening in, then I suppose she just is. "I'm not going to keep lying to you, especially after how you've kept so many of my secrets. It wouldn't be right."

Again that surprised smile appears on his face, despite the effort he makes to fight it. It disappears when he speaks.

"Do you really think she's going to help you?"

"I hope she will." I grab my clothes and towel and hang them up on a hook by my chosen stall, and I step inside and begin to strip down, chucking the clothes out onto the tile floors. "I want to be somewhat normal again."

He laughs from the others side of the shower curtain. "Normal is overrated."

I roll my eyes as I turn the water on, biting back a shriek as cold water hits my skin. "Says the normal person."

"I'm immune from the zombie plague. Well, the regular zombie plague. I think that counts for something."

"I guess," I say sarcastically, smiling when he scoffs.

"You guess? You've not even been back thirty minutes and you're already poking fun. I'll remember that when you say you need me."

"I always need you," I reply lowly, and he clears his throat a second later, sounding flustered. I grin with pride as I grab the soap. I smell truly horrible and probably have an inch of sweat I have to scrub off of me.

"I missed hearing your voice," I continue. "Veronica blocked your signal because she said I had a better chance of surviving if I only had one voice to focus on."

"I thought I heard you for a moment," He replies. "I was so sure. And when I told them, Peter said he'd go back to that factory and look for you, but Janine told him no. Said you would have to get out yourself because of the V-Type down there posed too much of a risk for any of them to come save you."

"That... sounds like Janine," I say, hoping he can't hear the slight disappointment in my voice.

I know Janine was only doing what she thought was best. She was thinking logically, but that doesn't mean her decision didn't hurt. I think Peter was right about what he said to me. Even though neither he nor the others know I'm immortal, they act like like I am. Like I'm always going to be okay, like I'm Head of Runners so they don't have to help me...

It kind of hurts to know that she didn't want to come save me. Maybe I don't mean as much to them as I thought.

I quickly shampoo my hair, washing it as best I can as I continue talking to Sam.

"Is Peter really doing better, with his hand?"

"It's already starting to grow back actually. It looks kind of gross, if you ask me." The laugh he gives is awkward, forced. "Pain medication doesn't really seem to be doing much, but he said it helps a little. More than it did before he blew himself up."

I don't say anything for a long minute, but when I do finally speak the words are filled with remorse. "It was my fault."

"What?"

I turn the water off, my hair clean and washed, along with the rest of me. I grab a towel and wrap it around me, not bothering to dry my hair. I step out of the shower stall and am met with a confused gaze.

"It was my fault he got hurt," I say, not meeting his eye. "I... I didn't duck fast enough. He forced me to because he didn't want me getting hurt, and that's how that liquid nitrogen ended up getting on his hand. And then I'm the one who accidently brushed up against him and made it fall off entirely."

"Well, I mean..." Sam trails off, unsure of what to say.

Droplets of water fall from my soaked hair onto the floor, a soft tap, tap, tap to add to the sound of my footsteps as I grab my clothes and walk to one of the changing stalls.

"It's because he thinks I'm mortal." I choke on the last word, as if it's poison.

"And you can't tell him yet, can you?"

"I don't think so, no." I hastily put on my clothes, my wet skin soaking them from my lack of drying off. I wish I could say I care, but I don't. Now I just want to sleep.

I leave the changing stall, toss my dirty clothes away to be washed, and then take Sam's hand. He lets me lean against him despite the fact that my hair is soaked, and I make a mental note to go to the greenhouse and check on those cocoa beans and make him some more Culy-Wurlies, because he honestly deserves them.

"Do you remember what happened when you told him?" He asks.

"We were fighting over something or another, him being reckless or stupid or something around that."

He hums. "Sounds like Peter alright."

I snort despite myself, and Sam smiles, proud of himself.

"I wish I could tell him, but trying to change what I see never turns out well. Somehow the visions always end up happening, whether I want them to or not," I sigh. "I'm tired."

"A nap sounds great right about now," He agrees. "But unfortunately, Janine will probably want to speak to you about Veronica. Just... don't tell her about the glitchy bit."

"I won't. I don't plan on telling anyone else, and I hope it won't bite me in the ass later."

"I think no matter what you decide, there will be consequences," He says, and I purse my lips.

"Yeah, but it's whether those consequences will be good or bad-that's what I'm worried about."

"Yeah." His lips press against my temple, soft, gentle, "and unfortunately you can't see what the future holds when it comes to this one."

"No. No, I can't. Not right now... Let's go find Janine."

•

I sit on top of the coms tower, back pressed against the tower, my legs crossed as I sit on the platform. I watch the sun setting on the horizon, the sky changing from its bright blue to soft shades of pink and orange.

I stare at the sky, watching and admiring its beauty. It will be dark soon, and I'll retreat back to Sam to escape the loneliness and darkness the night brings.

I don't think I'll be able to get much sleep. After speaking with Janine about Veronica, telling her what she wanted me to tell them, I went back to the coms shack and passed out for a few hours. The sleep was restless, nightmares of spiders waking me up every thirty minutes or so.

Nightmares are regular for me. With how much I've been through, it's no surprise that I dream about the major traumatic events that have occurred in my life. I still dream of Abel being blown up by a rocket launcher sometimes...

This is just another one that will haunt me. I doubt this spider nightmare will be as frequent, sort of like when I watched New Canton Runner Thirteen get eaten by rats or when I saw a skinned zombie or when the Warden beat me with a whip. I have nightmares about that sometimes, but not often. As scary as those things were, they didn't have as much of a lasting impression on me as other things did.

I suppose if I can't sleep I can always go find Peter and Tom. They'll probably be out smoking or talking or both. Either way I won't have to worry about suffering through the darkness alone.

I shudder, but my attention is quickly taken away from that when I hear the ladder rattling. I expect it to be Sam, and a small smile appears on my face. It falters only slightly when I realize it isn't him.

"Peter," I say in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to get you," He replies. "I saw you up here and was going to help you get down."

I cock my head to the side. "Why?"

"Because you're afraid of heights," He states, making a confused face. "I was assuming this to be a 'cat stuck in a tree' type situation."

I would have laughed if he wasn't dead serious. "I come up here all the time."

"But you're afraid of heights!"

"I know, but it's out of habit. I hate it, but it's like, my spot, you know?"

"That's stupid logic."

"Believe me, I know," I reply. "It's just about as stupid as your logic of smoking and ruining your lungs just because you know they'll eventually heal up."

That gets a chuckle out of him.

"Now are you going to come sit up here with me or are you going to keep clinging to that ladder like an idiot?" I ask, and that's all the invitation he needs to climb up on the platform and take a seat beside me, a smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "So, is coming to be my Prince Charming the only reason you came up here?"

"My comparison was again, you being a cat stuck in a tree, but I wanted to see what was wrong earlier. You seemed a bit... nervous when talking to Janine about what happened in that basement with Veronica."

I give him the best nonchalant shrug I can muster, hoping he doesn't notice how forced it is. "Veronica... is a complicated subject. She did save me, but..."

"But?"

"Well, she is the one who closed the door, saving me from the V-Type but also putting me in a lab complex where I was surrounded by bioweapon spiders that wanted to let their babies live in me and then eat me from the inside out, so..."

He hums. "Yeah, I can see why that might put a damper on things."

"Glad we see things eye to eye," I say sarcastically, and again he forces a smile. The genuine one I have fades. "Are you okay?"

He rolls his eyes. "You need to stop worrying about me so much."

"You need to stop trying to force me to be a bad friend."

"You're not a bad friend for not being concerned about pain of an immortal. Look." He shows me his left hand, which has grown back considerably. The only thing that isn't really back yet are the fingers, which make me wonder how he was able to climb up here. "I'll have a whole new hand by tomorrow, good as new."

"Are the scales gonna stay?" I ask, reaching out but not quite touching the dark green scales that cover his new hand. He raises his hand up to close that last bit of distance, to prove I won't hurt him.

I want to comment how cold he feels, but the shiver he gives when my skin-which is extremely warm by comparison-touches his tells me he already knows. He shakes his head.

"They'll fall off in a few days, revealing healthy human skin."

I hum. "It's kinda weird you do that when..." I trail off, and Peter looks at me with interest.

"When what?"

When I just burn.

"Nothing," I reply dismissively, which gets a frown from him. I don't keep eye contact, a pang of guilt stabbing at me because it really isn't fair. "You said some that plastic splashed you... is that healed too?"

"Oh, yeah. It was fine. Hurt getting it off, but yeah. Better me than you."

"No, it's not," I say, and thankfully he doesn't argue, although the look on his face tells me he's really thinking about it. I look out into the sunset, and I can see a few stars starting to peek through, their bright light trying to become more visible through the sky that hasn't quite reached its dark color. "'S pretty, isn't it?"

Peter looks out, staring at the sky and onward for a few seconds before replying. "Yeah. Never really was one to stare at sunsets though."

"Me neither. When I lived in Arkansas, I didn't care much for when it got dark. It was so humid in the summers, so even after the sun set it still didn't get much cooler, and mosquitoes were the worst!" I groan, which makes Peter laugh. "I'm not exaggerating. If I ever went outside after dark, I'd come back inside covered in welts because of them. And because I lived in town there wasn't really somewhere I could sit and enjoy the view anyway, not like this."

"Yeah, but now you're going to have to face the consequences when you try to go back down."

"That's why you're here, right? But even if I could have gotten up here before the apocalypse, I wouldn't have. My fear would have kept me from doing it."

"But you're still afraid of heights."

"Actually, I'm afraid of falling and the sudden stop at the bottom, but... I've gotten to the point that I can push myself through the fear to get the benefits of it, like this view. I think my friends would be proud of me if they could see me now. They would always make fun of me when I wouldn't ride rollercoasters or get of the Ferris wheel with them. Wes was the only one who didn't call me a coward."

I'm surprised by the sneer on Peter's face. "Your friends sounded like little pricks, besides Wes."

"Oh, like you haven't made fun of me before," I mock.

"I make fun. I'm not cruel. Me saying it's obvious when you and Sam have shagged because of the rats nest on your head isn't the same as calling you a coward because you were a kid with a legitimate fear. It's still a legitimate fear even now."

I shrug, mostly because he isn't wrong. "Well, my two closest friends right now have both tried to kill me, so I can say you have been cruel a few times. Also, please don't ever say anything like about my hair again."

"Well, it's true. And also, ouch." He places a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Low blow."

"Sorry," I giggle. "Speaking of our other dearest friend, are we meeting up tonight?"

"Most likely."

"Good. I'm not feeling tired and if I can have you guys around, at the very least I won't be bored."

Peter raises a brow. "You're not tired?"

"I fell asleep after our meeting with Janine. It was restless, same as I am now. I don't think I have the patience to fight with myself for hours only to realize rest is not something I will have the luxury of receiving tonight."

"So dramatic."

"I get it from you," I tease, leaning in a bit. He flicks my forehead in response.

"How? I thought you were the parent of our friend group."

"I'm the responsible one of our friend group-sort of. I mean, I'm responsible when it comes to you guys, I guess. You're the funny, dramatic one. Tom's the smart, slightly odd one."

He scoffs. "As if anyone in our trio isn't odd."

"True. But Tom recites poetry for fun, and then I have to ask him to explain what the he'll he's talking about because I'm dumb."

"We do the same when you start reciting off Bible verses."

"I thought you were just messing around." I hold back a surprised face when he shakes his head. "Aren't you Catholic? Didn't you like, have to study that?"

He shrugs in response. "I did, but I never paid attention. It's hard to love a God when the people around you didn't give you a choice in whether or not you could believe in Him, and when the closest thing you had to parental figure told you you were destined for hell anyway. You're one of the first Christians I've met since the apocalypse that hasn't forced your religion on anyone."

"Right. I'm sorry," I say, the mood becoming somber very quickly. "I forget that-"

"That I'm Simon, yeah. It's okay."

"It's weird. It's like I know you're him... you, but... I forget that your past is also... your past." I reach up, my fingers skimming over his shoulders. Under the fabric used to be healed over scars, but they're gone now, made clean. Blue eyes follow my every movement.

"Sometimes I wish I could forget that too," He murmurs, and I debate whether I should pull him in for a hug. I decide against it, instead resting my hand on his arm, a small bit of comfort without pushing too far. He notices, and he brings up his right hand to cover my own. "Thanks, darling."

"Anytime," I reply, and he clears his throat before letting his hand drop.

"Well, I suggest we get down before anyone else spots us and tries to come drag you down to the ground."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah. Plus, if we find Tom early, I can ask when our next training session will be. With everything that's happened, we haven't had a chance to have a one in a while."

He looks at me inquisitively as he stands and heads to the ladder, where I reluctantly follow. "Do you like getting your arse kicked in front of your friends?"

"It's a blow to my ego, yeah, but I like fighting against someone I can't keep up with. And I mean, he never hurts me too seriously." The words come out rather quickly, almost as a nervous babble. Talking to talk helps distract me as I descend the ladder, one shaky step after another. I'm surprised Peter doesn't point it out.

"Yeah, he's said that a few times, how quick you are at recovering."

"...Has he?"

"Yeah. I think he thinks you should be easier to bruise since you run from things more than you fight them, but I've told him about some of the shit you've been through. It takes more than a few punches to rough you up."

"If a few punches were all Tom threw at me during our training, I'd thank him, even if the hits landed," I joke. "But it's a good way to let out some steam."

"So, risking your life running isn't a good enough way to let off steam?"

"That usually adds to it," I deadpan. "And calming things like being around my kids or reading or talking to you and Tom at night are great, but I get antsy sometimes."

"Well, I'm not going to ask you to stop on my behalf. Watching you get slammed into the ground actually proves to be entertaining after a hard day."

I scoff, trying not to smile at his jab. "You asshole."

"You know you love me."

"You'd refuse to believe otherwise even if I didn't."

"Damn straight."

I snort. "For that, I won't even nag when you start whining about how stale your cigarettes are, and I won't complain about how it's going to give me cancer from the secondhand smoke."

He gasps. "Really? I think that's the best gift you could ever give me." He pauses, looking ahead. "And speak of the devil, there's the third member of our trio now. Come on. I'm sure he won't mind if we come bother him a bit earlier than usual."

"Oh, yes he will."

He nods. "Oh, yes he will. But will that stop us?"

"Nope."

The smile on his face grows. "Atta girl."

A/N: Here you go, guys! Hope you like this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!