Lost and Found - 1. Chapter 1

Riley

"San Francisco?" I repeated the name as if I didn't hear it the first time.

"That's what I said." General Tucker shuffles around a pile of papers on the corner of his desk.

General Tucker was a younger man, around forty if I had to guess, which meant that he was under a lot more stress than the average General. Because he was probably the youngest General in Republic history, maybe even the US, he was watched under much scrutiny.

"You're to report at the airfield no later than oh-six-hundred hours tomorrow." He adds, throwing up his hands and seeming to give up on what he was looking for.

Tomorrow? I would be leaving tomorrow?

"Sir, with all due respect, I think my talents could be used elsewhere." I try to plead my case, try to convince the General that San Francisco would not be the best place for me.

"I'm not coming with."

"What are you talking about?"

The conversation plays on repeat inside of my head as General Tucker sighs and sinks back into his seat, running a hand through his short salt and pepper hair.

"Look, I respect you, you may be a royal pain in my ass sometimes but I still respect you. That being said, the only reason you're hearing this from me and not your team leader, is because of that fact. You and the previous members of Team Alpha helped stop the worst terrorist plot this country has seen since Nine-Eleven, and that hasn't gone unnoticed. No one wants to go to San Francisco right now and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, it's a shit show right now. Between the last remaining factions of The Order holding up somewhere in the city, and the citizens resisting our attempts to help them, we need Team Alpha there. You're the only one on this base that's been there, so you know the city better than the soldiers we already have there. Can I count on you?"

"I can't Riley."

"Then I'm staying with you!"

I feel an emptiness in my heart, the dog tags belonging to another man feeling like a ten thousand pound weight on my chest. I desperately want to rip them off and chuck them across the room like an angry teenager. Though I hold my composure, straightening my posture even more.

"Of course sir." I nod sharply.

General Tucker smiles and nods his head in approval. "You're a good soldier Monroe, maybe when you get back there will be a Staff Sergeant position waiting for you."

I know what he's doing, enticing me with a promotion so I won't go kicking and screaming. I could give a shit less about the possibility of a promotion, I just didn't want to go back to that god forsaken city.

"But… I love you B"

"I love you too Riley."

"You're dismissed, take the rest of the day for yourself, get things in order." General Tucker commands, I give him a solute and turn sharply on my heel, heading for the office door. I thrust it open and close it behind me, standing in the boring, brightly lit hallway.

My breathing is sharp and fast, my panic beginning to rise slowly. I hadn't seen or heard from Gray in almost a year, and it wasn't by lack of trying on my part. I had written emails hell even going old school and writing letters. When we finally established communications inside the city I even tried contacting him. I never heard a single word back.

I run my fingers through my hair as I step outside into the hot desert sun, cursing my bad luck and misfortune. It had taken me so long to get over Gray, finally coming to terms with the fact that I wouldn't see him again, and that maybe he didn't want to see me either.

"We will see each other again."

"Promise?"

I run my fingers over my lips, where I swear I can still feel that kiss from last year.

"Promise."

I shake the conversation from my head and make a beeline for the armory. I need to destroy something, and what better way to do that than with an assault rifle and some practice dummies.

I pass by Alex's old workshop, not bothering to look at it. The last thing I need is more heart wrenching memories.

"Riley!" I hear a voice shout, but I continue walking, my mind on one thing and one thing only.

"Monroe!" The voice calls again. I grumble and slow my pace so he can catch up.

"What is it Jon?" I growl, not bothering to look at him as he catches up, huffing and puffing from running.

"What did the General want?" He asks.

"We're wheels up tomorrow for San Francisco." I reply shortly.

"No shit? So I guess that explains why you look like your about ready to murder someone."

"Why? Are you volunteering?" I tease.

He laughs and I crack a small grin. "You know I'm your only friend here, who else would be able to put up with your shit?" He jabs.

He had a point there. Now that Cody was gone, and Elliott was up living the civilian life with his sexy boyfriend and adorable dog, Jon was the only friend I had left at Bakersfield. I didn't get along with other people too well, and I liked it that way. Less ways to get hurt, or stabbed in the back.

Fort Bakersfield was a large joint base, encompassing roughly what used to be the city of Bakersfield, housing The Army, The Marines, and the Air Force. Regardless of its size though, rumors about Riley Monroe circled like wildfire. But when you're stuck on a metaphorical island in the middle of the desert, it was easy to get caught up in gossip.

"What are you doing in Alex's shop?" I ask, noticing that was the direction he came from.

"General Tucker wants me to take over, since Alex…" He trails off and shuffles around uncomfortably.

I nod my head, ignoring that pain in my chest that appeared whenever someone mentioned Alex Wilson. She used to be the Mechanical Engineer on our team before she died last year. Of course Jon would be the natural successor to Alex. With his knowledge of mechanics and computers it would only make sense. Word must have gotten to the General that his mother was Alethea Stavros, tech genius and billionaire. No doubt that Jon was a chip off the old block, which he proved during the LA Terrorist Plot, and many times after that.

"I'm gonna keep everything as it is. I don't want to step on any toes." He reassures me.

"Thank you. Alex may have betrayed us for The Order, but she was still like a sister to me."

"I know, you guys cared about her a lot. I have big boots to fill."

I scrunch my eyebrows together and give him a confused look. "I think you mean shoes, big shoes to fill."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I meant what I said, Alex always wore boots."

I grinned and nodded my head. "That she did."

We approach the Armory and I turn around to look at Jon, who gives me a confused look.

"As much as I enjoy your company, I kind of want to be alone right now." I explain.

Jon lifts his hands in defeat, slowly walking backward. "Say no more, consider me gone." That was the one thing I liked about Jon, he didn't hover.

I push the door open to the Armory, its cool and dark confines like a support blanket for my soul. I grab an assault rifle out of the cage behind the desk, giving a nod to the Private manning it, and step into the firing range.

There was only one other person in there, so I chose a stall five down from him to give myself some privacy. I enter my chosen stall and place the assault rifle on the counter in front of me. I grab my ear protection and snap the noise canceling headphones over my ears completely knocking out all sound. The only thing I can hear is the soft muffle of the other man firing at his targets.

Some people have the gym, some listen to music, but my therapy is this right here. Nothing but me, a gun, and some fake targets to take my aggression out on.

I slam my fist into the big go bottom on the side and a countdown initiates in front of me.

3

I check my clip to see if it’s full, shoving it back into the gun.

2

I bring my rifle up to my shoulder and look through the sight.

1

The first target pops up and I shoot it, right between the eyes. Then another, then another, a civilian pops out to my right, being held hostage by an enemy so I nail him in the forehead.

The simulation stops and my score pops up where the countdown timer was.

1000, perfect score.

I grin to myself as I set my assault rifle down, feeling more content than ever, and slide my headphones down around my neck.

"Holy shit man, I've never shot a thousand before." The man who was shooting at the stall down from me had been watching apparently. I didn't even notice him come over, or stop shooting.

"Nothin' but net." I give him a cocky grin and brush past him. There was a reason why I ran the Armory, and that's because weapons and shooting are my specialty. So of course I would be able to shoot a perfect score. Some may call it cocky, but I just call it doing my job.

I return the gun back to the cage and head back outside, not really sure what I was going to do with the rest of my day. Maybe I would head to one of the new bars in town. Now that the US is over here helping us, it might be nice to see some new faces… Among other things.

I head to my car, my mind set on going out. Maybe I could find someone to take my mind off going to San Francisco, because that's what I'm really worried about. Isn't it?

I climb into the driver's seat and rest my head against the steering wheel, sighing heavily. The more I think about going out, the more it makes me think about Gray. The age old saying "The only way to get over someone, is to get under someone else." was obviously not written by someone with a broken heart. There was no amount of hot sex that could replace the feelings I had for that man, and it infuriated me to no end.

"Fuck." I growl, punching my dashboard.

Why did I have to fall in love? Why did I have to go and get feelings for a man that apparently didn't feel the same way I did?

When I first met Gray, all I wanted was to get in his pants. He was a big hulking Latino, with a brooding personality that was so hot. But the more I got to know him, the more those sexual desires morphed into something else. The first time we kissed I knew I was fucked, and yet I couldn't stay away. Then the first time we had sex. I shudder at that memory, no one had ever made me feel that way before.

Before I can resist, the memories of that night come flooding in. Gray on top of me, kissing me tenderly on the neck while he slides his thick cock into me. Whispering in Spanish, into my ear, how sexy and beautiful I was.

The memory makes my chest ache and I try to choke back tears, but to no avail. I try to breathe but all I do instead is gasp. I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white from the force, and I count backwards from ten. A little tactic my therapist taught me to control my temper, maybe it would work with this.

Soft tears begin falling down my cheeks as I count backward, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself from the wave of emotions. When did I become such a heart broken baby? I was being ridiculous right, I'm thirty-five years old for chrissakes, not some love sick teenager. I mean after all, he was just a man, a man that I fell helplessly in love with.

But that was the thing about me, when I fell in love, I fell hard. It was my curse, and while some people may not think so, they've never had to deal with the aftermath.

"Pull yourself together Riley, and be a man." I can hear my father's voice ring out in my head. Even from the grave, I can still hear his words of disappointment.

I wipe the tears from my face and blow out a long huff of air, before starting my car and driving out of the parking lot.

I decide against going out, instead taking my usual route back home. More than anything I just felt like being alone, drinking a beer, and watching the hockey game.

I pull up to my apartment and step out of my car, trudging my way up the stairs. I unlock my front door and step inside, kicking my shoes off and making my way across the living room.

"TV on." I command, and the TV flicks to life, already on the sports channel. I grab a beer out of the fridge and make my way back into the living room, collapsing on the couch and propping my feet up on the coffee table. I tried getting lost in the Red Wings and Bruins game, but my thoughts kept turning back to San Francisco, and the inevitable thing that was waiting for me there. What would I say if I saw Gray? What would he say to me? Would he apologize and grovel, or not even care?

I take a drink off my beer and my phone begins to vibrate next to me. I look at the screen and notice it’s Jon. I almost don’t answer it, but against my better judgement I swipe the screen and accept the call.

“Please tell me you're not stranded somewhere, because I’m not leaving this couch.” I grumble.

“Umm no.” He chuckles. “Hockey game and beer, you down?” His question is more of a statement than a question.

“What part of, not leaving this couch, didn’t you get?” I deadpan. At that moment my doorbell rings and I groan.

“Hold on, someones at my door.”

I shuffle over to the door and open it, only to find Jon on the other side with a wide grin on his face. I look from him to my phone, and then back to him again. He hangs up his phone and slides it into his pocket before pushing past me and walking into my apartment.

“Sure, just come on in.” I give him an annoyed look and flip my door shut.

“I got your favorite beer and cheese pizza, coupled with the Hockey game we have all of your favorite things in one room.” Jon gives me a warm smile.

“Well not really, because you're still here.” I tease, plopping down on the couch.

“Har har.” He bumps shoulders with me and cracks a beer open.

I smile and take a drink of my beer. Actually having Jon around couldn’t be the worst thing ever, he was my friend after all. Hell, he was the only person that seemed to understand me at this place.

“So why are all of my favorite things in one room?” I ask, keeping my eyes glued to the TV. I had a feeling I knew what the answer was going to be.

He hesitates at first, chewing his pizza slowly, clearly choosing his words. “We got an update from Russo about our next assignment."

"And let me guess." I tear my eyes away from the game and give him a suspicious look. "You wanted to make sure I wasn't freaking out."

"Can you blame me?" He cocks an eyebrow at me.

I make a frustrated noise and take another drink from my beer. I guess I couldn't blame him, I couldn't be mad at him for caring.

“Well I’m fine, I already freaked out in my car. Freak out over, done, never to return again.”

He gives me a blinking stare, not quite believing me. Maybe I didn’t even believe myself.

“What? You don’t believe me?” I reply.

“Well,” Jon wipes his hands with a napkin and turns his body to face me. “The last time someone mentioned Gray, you did throat punch them.”

“Hey, I told him if he didn’t shut up I would throat punch him. It’s not my fault he didn’t listen.”

“And you got court mandated anger management for it.” Jon pointed out.

I sigh in defeat, it was no secret that I had fucked up this past year. That one incident cost me my position as team leader, a position that Elliott had entrusted me with.

"Do you think I'm being stupid?" I ask, seeking some affirmation for my behavior.

He takes another drink of his beer before answering, looking at his bottle in a pensive fashion. "Depends on what you're asking? Do I think your behavior is stupid? Maybe." He shrugs.

"Gee thanks." I grumble, taking a drink of my beer.

His expression turns to empathy and he places one of his big hands on my knee. "But, do I think the way your feeling is stupid? Not at all. You fell in love with someone and then that person left you behind. Not to mention the only family you had around here left, and Alex died but not before betraying you all."

"Yeah, what you're saying isn't really helping here." I deadpan.

"Would you shut up for five seconds?"

I clamp my mouth shut and Jon continues. "Your heart is broken man, you're allowed to feel however you want."

I nod my head slowly. He was right, about all of it. I was allowed to feel heartbroken, and not just about Gray but about everyone else as well.

"Now." Jon slaps my leg and cracks open two more beers, handing one over to me. "Let's drink some beer, eat some pizza, and watch the Red Wings get annihilated by the Bruins."

I smile and take the beer from his outstretched hand. "You're a good friend Stavros."

"Pfft, I know." He responds, holding his head high.

I snort and shake my head, relaxing back against the couch. Jon settles in next to me, his broad shoulder resting against mine. The light contact feels nice, his warm skin sending a nice heat across my shoulder and down my bicep. I slouch down further into the couch and rest my head on his shoulder, seeking more of that warmth. I can feel him turn his head and look down at me before throwing a big arm over my shoulder and pulling me closer into him.

I would never do anything with Jon, and he would never try anything with me. It was an invisible line both of us respected. We were friends, plain and simple, and neither of us were the others type. It still felt nice to have someone around though, to feel the warmth and contact of another man. Even though I desperately wished it were Gray.

Gray

"Jesus christ! Don't you knock?" I shout as my brother Griff swings my bedroom door open. I scramble to find something to cover myself since I'm completely naked, just having gotten out of the shower. I resort to my hand, covering my manhood as best to my abilities.

"Gray, were twins. Literally what you have is what I have. Although I seem to have gotten more than you." He teases.

"Get out!" I yell.

"Jeez always the grouch." He rolls his eyes. "Come downstairs, Liv made her banana pancakes."

I pause while pulling my underwear on. "Banana pancakes?" I respond excitedly.

"Yeah, so you better hurry before Gabby eats them all." Griff chuckles as he closes my bedroom door.

I hurry and throw some clothes on, excited for the taste of banana pancakes making my mouth water.

Griff's wife Olivia was a phenomenal cook, and her banana pancakes for breakfast were the best way to start a morning.

I throw my bedroom door open and barrel down the stairs, almost missing one and falling flat on my face. The smell of coffee and pancakes draws me to the kitchen, marking the perfect morning.

I enter the kitchen and notice Gabby and Griff sitting at the kitchen table, Liv was standing in front of the stove, humming and flipping pancakes.

"Uncle Gray!" Gabby shrieks, an excited glint in her eye.

"Hey there little one." I grin and ruffle her hair, choosing the seat next to hers.

"Hey, don't mess up her hair. I finally got the curls under control for school." Liv flicks her spatula at me threateningly.

Gabby, like Griff and I, has a head of curly hair that is almost impossible to maintain. When her hair isn't done she looks more like a wildling then an adorable seven year old girl. It's why I resort to having a shaved head, I never liked having to deal with it. Plus it's an easy way to tell Griff and I apart.

"Did you save me some?" I ask Gabby.

"Mmhmm." She nods her head.

"More on the way." Liv replies from the stove.

I grab the coffee pot off the warmer in the center of the table and pour myself a cup. Bringing the cup up to my lips and taking a whiff of the beautiful scent before taking a drink.

"Dude, it's way too early for that shit." Griff states, pointing out my coffee bliss.

"Language! A dollar please!" Gabby shouts, holding out her tiny hand.

Griff groans and then pulls a dollar out of his wallet, grumbling something under his breath about stupid rules.

"He don't forget, you're the one that made the rule." Liv jabs, while placing more pancakes in the center of the table.

"Yeah-yeah don't remind me."

I spear a couple of pancakes and transfer them to my plate, the anticipation of the taste killing me. I slather some peanut butter on them, and then a little bit of syrup, before finally cutting up a piece and bringing it to my mouth. My taste buds explode in happiness as I let out a pleasant groan that has Gabby giggling.

"Liv, if you keep this up I may never move out." I joke, taking another drink of coffee.

"Then don't. The room is always yours when you need it." She replies sitting down at the table with us.

"Gray needs his own space to grouch around in." Griff jabs and I poke him with my fork, causing him to rub his arm and scowl at me.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time with that train wreck next door." Liv flips her hand around aimlessly.

"Nah, it's got good bones. It'll be awesome when I'm finished. Plus I'll be right next door." I give her a warm smile before taking another bite of pancakes.

Ever since I decided to stay in San Francisco and leave my team last year, I have been staying with Griff and Liv. Don't get me wrong, I loved living with them, and having Gabby around was great. But Griff was right, I needed my own space, and that space was a run down single story house next door to theirs.

Since the city was virtually abandoned until a few months ago, there was no currency. So when the United States and Republic Armies began moving in to help rebuild, they began giving away unclaimed properties under the condition that they would be rebuilt. Their hope is to re-populate the city and get the economy back up and running, which seemed to be helping slightly. Although not everyone agreed with it, mainly its citizens.

"I'm all for having Uncle Gray next door." Gabby smiles and I give her a grin.

"Who else would I play hide and seek with?" I ask.

"Oh I don't know, maybe someone your own age, and with less fabric, if you catch my meaning." Griff gives me a devilish grin and a wink, causing me to blush.

"Griffin!" Liv hisses. "You do realize our daughter has ears don't you?"

"Relax, she's seven. She doesn't know what we're talking about." Griff waves his hand in a relaxed fashion.

"Your talking about sex." Gabby deadpans.

An awkward silence falls over the table, and I try my hardest to stifle my laughter. Liv shoots an angry glare and backhands Griff across the shoulder.

"Well." Griff's eyes are as wide as dinner plates, his face turning two shades scarlett from embarrassment. "Did not see that coming."

"Nice one Griffin." Liv responds sarcastically.

"What? She gets the big brains from you." He points out.

"Well that we can agree on." She jabs back with a facetious grin. I laugh and Griff clutches his heart dramatically. She turns to Gabby and pushes away from the table. "C'mon munchkin, Mamas got early rounds and you have school to get to." She picks up her and Gabby's plates and heads for the sink.

"Can't Daddy and Uncle Gray take me?" She pleads.

"They have to go to work too, and school is on the way to the clinic. Go on, get your bag."

"Fiiine." She pushes herself from the table and walks away dramatically.

"Now that, she gets from you." Liv bends down and gives Griff a kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too." He responds with an adoring glint in his eye.

Watching them reminds me of Riley. That pain I've been trying to hide deep below the surface tries to break through slightly, but I push it back down.

Riley had tried to call, sent emails, hell even wrote a few letters, but I never knew how to respond. What could I say to the man that I abandoned, the man that I loved. You don't abandon those that you love, although not returning his correspondence probably just made things worse.

"You're a fucking coward." My thoughts ring out in my head.

Yeah, I am a fucking coward.

"You okay bro?" The sound of Griff's concern pulls me out of my thoughts.

I grunt and round up my plate and coffee mug, heading over to the sink. I don't want to talk about this with Griff. I love my brother to death, but feelings were never a Torres family trait, at least with the men. My mom and Gabriella on the other hand... I mentally stop myself from going down that rabbit hole.

"They're never coming back. Just move on already."

It was hard to move on though. Moving on felt like I was forgetting about them, but my more rational side knows that's not true. Our parents died ten years ago, in the earthquake that changed much of the city's geography, and also much of California. My sister died just four years ago in a supply run gone sideways. All that was left of the Torres lineage was me and my identical twin brother Griff.

"Gray!' I hear a boot stomp on the floor, getting my attention.

"What?" I give Griff a puzzled look.

"I said are you ready to go-what's with you? You seem more broody today."

"Oh I'm uhh."

"Think of something Gray, so you don't have to talk about your feelings."

"I'm uhh… Debating on whether I want to put a skylight in the kitchen or not." It wasn't a complete lie, I had been thinking of adding one.

"Does that house have vaulted ceilings?" His expression turns to confusion.

I nod my head a little more energetically than necessary.

"You should do it. Might add some flair, plus natural lighting is always good. Now c'mon let's go." He turns and heads out of the kitchen as I breathe a sigh of relief.

I throw my boots on and walk through the front door, the crisp morning sunshine hitting me square in the face.

It was a beautiful July morning and the sun was out, no fog in sight. The walk to the capitol isn’t very far, maybe a few blocks or so. Still, it would be nice to have a car, even though cars and San Francisco have never gone together since the age of time. It wasn’t the fact that no one had cars, it was that the city didn’t have any gas reserves. But the Army was working on that, slowly but surely. I think that’s the thing I miss most about life outside of this city, driving, well, and something else, but I didn’t want to get into that.

People waved and smiled, giving greetings as we walked by. A few members of the guard stop and salute Griff as we walk by.

“Do you ever get tired of being The Commander?” I ask with a grin.

“Sometimes.” He grumbles and that takes me by surprise. Griff had never mentioned before that he disliked his position of power. If anything he never had an opinion on it when asked. I hadn't really got an answer from him on how he ended up in the position in the first place, he always seemed to shut down when confronted with questions.

“I didn’t want this. I didn’t know how to be a leader, or even how to run this colony, shit sometimes I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” We round a corner and begin walking down a hill, the rotunda for the church that served as the Capitol coming into view. “If it wasn’t for Olivia.” He pauses and shakes his head, his long curly hair bouncing slightly. “I’m sure I would have cracked under the pressure.”

I shake my head. “I don’t believe that, you were always the strong one.”

He snorts. "I just wish people would stop treating me differently."

I could understand that. Even growing up Griff just always wanted to fit in, but his humor and quick wit had other plans for him.

We approach the Capitol and Griff reaches for the handle to the side door, but the sounds of angry shouting coming from around the front has us stopping in our tracks.

"What the hell is it this time?" Griff states with an annoyed tone.

We walk around to the front of the building to see a crowd of people in the square across the street, being held back by a line of Republic and US soldiers. Griff straightens his posture and pulls his hair back into a messy bun before making his way across the street, me following right behind him.

"We don't want you here!"

"Go back to where you came from!"

I heard angry people shout from behind the line. Griff approaches a man, who looks to be in charge, his hackles raised.

"Sergeant Reed, what the hell is going on?"

Reed rounds on Griff, a formidable vein pulsating in his forehead from anger. "What's going on, is your people attacked a group of my soldiers."

"Watch who you're talking to." One of the men from the guard growls.

Griff holds up a hand, telling the Guardman to stand down. "Was anyone hurt?" Griff responds, taking a more diplomatic approach.

"Yes, Simmons over there is bleeding from the head." He gestures to a man sitting some five feet away, holding a square of gauze to the side of his head. I approach him while Griff continues talking to Reed, kneeling down and taking a look at his injury.

The man, Simmons, was cute. He had chiseled features and a large frame, similar to mine. He had soft emerald green eyes that, when I looked into them, made me feel relaxed, like I was surrounded by mountain evergreens.

"Are you a Doctor?" He asks, turning his gaze towards me. It took every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the wound on his head, then at those eyes.

"No." I snort and tilt his head to get a better look at the gash. "I'm a scientist, but I did do a small stint in Med School."

He lets out a deep chuckle. "I didn't realize Sexy Scientist was a job title."

I blush and give a sheepish grin. "Yeah, you obviously got hit in the head hard."

It wasn't that I wasn't flattered, I was, though the last thing I needed to deal with right now was the prospect of being intimate with another person. Especially when my thoughts always turned to Riley whenever I even gave a second glance at an attractive person.

"Whatever you say Doc." He gives me a wolfish grin followed by a wink that sends warm feelings through my body. I shake the feeling off and part his auburn hair to get a better look at how large the wound was.

It wasn't very large, though it kept bleeding. He would definitely need stitches, and Liv's clinic was close by.

I grab his hand and place it over the gauze on his head. "Hold pressure here Rico Suave." I give him a sly grin before I look over at two Guardsmen, who are standing near Griff. "Sanchez, Miller, get this guy to the clinic so Liv can look him over." They both nod and begin making their way over.

"Whoa-whoa, we'll take him." One of the soldiers responds defensively, stepping in between me, and Sanchez and Miller.

"Dude, Kale, don't be a dick." Simmons speaks up.

I roll my eyes in frustration, my temper beginning to show itself. I take a deep breath and calm myself, not wanting to make the situation worse.

"We're all on the same side here." I reason.

Kale scoffs and shakes his head dismissively.

"Is that how you guys show your gratitude around here? By throwing rocks?" He gestures at Simmons, his golden eyes lit with fire. I could understand their mistrust in us, our people haven’t exactly made it easy to cohabitate, and they don't want to be here.

"Look, why don't you go with Miller and Sanchez? That way you know your friend made it safely. Our people won't mess with the guard, so it's safer if they go with you." I explain, hoping beyond hope that he sees reason.

He thinks about it for a few moments. Then to my relief nods his head and steps aside so Sanchez and Miller can help Simmons off the ground. I watch as they walk away towards the direction of the clinic before turning and walking back towards Griff.

"Will he live?" Reed barks and I give him a nod.

"Yeah I sent him to Liv. Probably just a few stitches."

Griff gives a sigh of relief before giving a worried glance at the angry crowd, still being held back by the soldiers.

"You need to talk some sense into these people Griff." I say.

He gives out a huff of air. "I don't even know what to say. I understand their frustration." He admits.

"You understand their frustration?" Reed replies incredulously.

"You seem to have forgotten that the Republic and the US abandoned these people after the second outbreak. They're pissed, and rightfully so." I defend, turning a scowl towards Reed.

"So injuring my soldiers should just slide?" He rounds on me, face turning red.

"No, but if you're going to be here you need to understand these people. They see you as unwanted invaders. For the past eight years they've been making it on their own. Then the government steps in and tells them what's what, that same government that left them to die." My temper starts to flare slightly, and Griff takes notice.

"We can't fight amongst each other. If we do that then we'll never get them to fall in line." He urges. "We have to set an example, let them know that this behavior has consequences."

"And if that doesn't work? What then?" Reed questions.

Griff's face is expressionless as he glances at Reed. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Straightening his posture, he marches toward the angry mob. His strides are confident and powerful, his knee high jacket flapping behind him. It was a look that I didn't recognize from my brother, something that could only be gained from being a leader.

"Soldiers, break rank!" He orders in a deep baritone, stopping just short of the line. They all glance at him, giving their Staff Sergeants looks of permission.

"Did I stutter? I said, “break rank!" He orders again, this time with a little more bite. The soldiers part apprehensively and the angry crowd shuffles around, looking at their commander nervously.

"Whose doing is this?" He inquires, his tone never losing its edge.

No one responds, they just stand there, looking around at each other as if the culprit would materialize from their ranks.

"If the culprit doesn't come forward right now, you all will be charged with disorderly conduct. Now I'll ask again, whose doing is this?"

The crowd parts slightly and a larger man steps forward. There's a look of hatred on his face, and his fists clench as he comes to stand in front of Griff.

"Jory Gibson… I should have known." Griff shakes his head, the disappointment in his voice palpable.

"Someone has to do something about these invaders, since our commander won't." He rebounds.

Griff stands there for a second, the anger in his face apparent. "Guardsmen, take him to lockup." He growls.

Two guards come forward and restrain Jory's hands behind his back, before marching him off towards lockup.

"This is bullshit! We're never gonna stop! You can't silence us all!" He shouts, struggling against the guards as they haul him away. Griff ignores him, turning his gaze back to the crowd who are all whispering amongst each other.

"Listen up and listen well. I know we're all on edge right now, but these people," He gestures at the soldiers. "Are here to help us. We can't rebuild this city alone and ever since they've come here our colony has flourished. The gates are open now, we've begun expanding further outside the walls, and The Order is in hiding. We need to stick together so that we can get our city back to the way it was before."

"But they abandoned us after the second outbreak!" A woman shouts, and the crowd begins to talk amongst each other, most of them in agreement. The voices become louder and louder until the shouting starts again.

Griff turns to me, an unsure look in his eye. I give him a nod of approval, telling him that he's doing good.

"He's losing them." Reed's tone is cautious.

"He's got this." I reply, having complete faith in my brother. He didn't get this far as their commander without a few bumps in the road.

"ENOUGH!" He bellows and the crowd dies down immediately, most of them with shocked expressions. "We've all made mistakes, none of us are perfect! We are on the path of history, right now! We can either fight amongst each other like children, or, we can work together and do better than those before us. We have come so far as a community, we can't let something like this break us." He says the last sentence with urgency, something that the crowd seems to pick up on.

"Go home, go to your jobs. This community isn't going to build itself." He orders.

They're silent as he turns around. Some of them begin to scatter in different directions. Griff turns around and begins heading back in my direction. I give him a mock clap and he makes eye contact with me.

"Good job." I give him a grin.

"Don't you have a lab to be at?" He cocks an eyebrow at me, but I see a grin behind his eyes.

"Yes sir." I tease.

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Shut up."

I watch as he climbs the Capitol's steps and disappears behind the heavy wooden doors. I had to admit I was impressed with how he handled that. For someone who didn't think they knew what they were doing, he was a natural leader. The way the crowd responded and listened to him proved that.

I turned on my heel and began walking across the square in the direction of my lab. People whisper and shoot glances my way but I just ignore them. People always talked about me, the man who used to be a Republic soldier, a part of the system they hated. Some of them didn't believe I truly left, that my loyalties still lie with the Republic, that I was a mole of some sort. The one thing I've learned is that people will believe whatever they want, even if it's not true.

I turn and walk down the narrow alleyway that leads to my lab, the brick buildings on either side blocking out the sun and sending a cold shiver down my spine. Even though it was July the morning air was still a crisp fifty-six degrees, but it would warm up later in the day.

I walk down the cement steps and unlock the door, pushing it open and stepping inside it's safe confines.

The sound of music meets my ears, signaling that Adam is already here. I hang my jacket up next to the door and walk towards the back of the room where Adam's station is. As I get closer I can make out his voice, singing along to some Spanish lyrics.

"No son ni Reebook ni son Nike. Sin estilista, luzco fly. La Rosalía me dice que luzco guay. No te lo niego porque yo sé lo que hay. Lo que se ve, no se pregunta. Si los perdí, tengo claro que e' mi culpa. Como Canelo en el ring nada me asusta Vivo en mi Oasis y la paz no me la tumban. Hakuna Matata como Timón y Pumba. Voy pa' leyenda así que dale zumba. Los dejo ciego' con la vibra que me alumbra…"

I round the corner, a look of amusement on my face at what I see. He's shaking his hips back and forth, his slim frame bouncing slightly to the beat. His muscles ripple as he works, pulling the tops off of bullets and dumping their contents into a plastic container. He was cutting rounds, something we did sometimes when we were low on ammunition.

"This is the rhythm, rhythm, rhythm, rhythm, rhythm of the night!"

"Your Spanish needs some work." I speak up.

He jumps from surprise and there's a loud pop as the round he's holding fires off in his hand.

"Ow! Dammit!" He flips his hand back and forth.

I roll my eyes and make my way over to him. "How many times have I told you that if you're going to cut rounds you need to wear gloves." I scold.

He shoots me a glare with those silver eyes, his fingers in his mouth. I can't help but chuckle at his expression. I grab his hand and observe his fingers.

"It's hard to grip the bullets when you wear those bulky gloves." He argues.

His fingers are red and angry looking. So I retrieve the first aid kit from the opposite wall and set it on his work bench.

"Then use the pliers with the rubber grips." I counter.

He grumbles and holds his hand out, letting me put some burn gel on his fingers.

Adam was a local kid, about twenty-three, whose parents were killed in the earthquake. When I showed up last year and set up this lab, he used to hound me with science related questions. When I told him I needed an apprentice and asked him if he was interested, he jumped at the opportunity. He's a good kid, bright, with a good head on his shoulders.

"If you lose a finger, don't come crying to me."

"I'm not gonna lose a finger." He deadpans.

"Mmhmm." I raise an eyebrow at him before packing the first aid kit back up and hanging it in its designated place. "Why are you cutting rounds anyway? I thought we were good on ammunition."

Adam shrugs his shoulders and continues his work. "Apparently not."

That was a little concerning. Usually when something like that happened I heard about it. Being the brother of The Commander had its perks like that. I grab a pair of workers gloves and slap them on his work bench.

"Wear them." I order in a stern tone.

He huffs, but concedes, pulling the bulky gloves on. "Yes Doctor Torres." He replies in a mocking tone. I chuckle and shake my head, one of these days he'll learn.

I turn around and climb the few steps to my office and back into the door, pushing it open. It was a square room set in the corner of the basement and it had a wall of windows that looked over the space. It took me a good six months to put this whole lab together, that included all the tech upgrades that I got when we finally got a supply shipment in.

"Pull up the last project." I command. The monitor on the wall flashes to life, bringing up formulas and equations for a new industrial sealer I have been working on. It was boring, and not as exciting as explosives, however, the colony needed building materials.

Since I arrived in San Francisco this was my job, creating things that would help engineers rebuild the city. After the earthquake the ground under the city was slightly unstable, the frequency of earthquakes increasing to one or two every month or so. They weren't very large earthquakes, most of them only registering to around three to five on the Richter scale.

Still, engineers didn't want to take any chances. So here I was, thinking of new sealants, adhesives, and any other things that could help buildings withstand another large earthquake.

I pick up my headphones on my desk and glance at the picture sitting in a wooden frame.

Riley, smiling goofily, and me grinning with an arm around him. It was taken by Elliott on his thirty-second birthday. We went to the Santa Monica pier, something Riley had always wanted to do. We shared our first kiss after I won him this ridiculously huge teddy bear, which he affectionately named Yogi.

I smile at the memory, though it's soon replaced by a pain in my heart. The type of pain that only came from heartbreak. I couldn't complain though, after all, it was my fault I felt this way.

Riley deserved someone who could be around, someone he didn't have to worry about being in a worn torn city. Someone he could come home to, to share dinners and memories with. Maybe that was why I didn't return his calls or messages, it wouldn't work for us, at least not in the way Riley deserved.

I grab the top of the frame and pull it face down on the desk so I didn't have to look at it, turning my attention back to my work. I shove my headphones in my ears and tap one of them, letting the sounds of Led Zeppelin submerge me into my work.

Riley would understand someday.