Scouts Out

“My make up bag is non-negotiable,” Sofia grumbled in protest. She was sure he could remember her complaints about dress code back when they were Marines, and likely several write ups that followed. “They should bring me on as a product tester. Nothing is a stronger test of sweat resistant than this hell.” Moping was evidently one of her strong suits, as she brought up the heat again. God, she hated being hot.

“Funny thing is, I think I would still rather be here than home right now. Do you have any idea what it’s like raising teenagers?” She groaned, shaking her head. “I now understand everything I put my mother through. This is why I don’t want children. I’d rather be at war.” Which she technically had never left….or so it felt.

“Sounds good to me. Lucky for you, I’m here, otherwise your English-speaking ass would be up shit creek.” She was sure that was intentional, things like that always were. But she always had to rub it in. His side of the line was quiet, and she knew what that meant. Without the banter, she finally found the head she needed in her scope. Waiting, focusing, her finger curling around the trigger….

Then she heard footsteps from below. First, maybe second floor. So much for no overwatch.

“Hurry up,” she hissed through the radio. “I’m not alone. We need to finish.” M

Not alone. Her words echoed in his head, sending a thrill of panic up his spine. They were supposed to be alone, have plenty of time to evacuate on their terms. And now Sofie was in danger.

“Sof, take your shot and get the fuck out of there. I’ll kick up a racket and draw them to me,” He hissed into his comms. 

He was pretty sure he didn’t have a great path out of here, but he was pretty goddamn sure no one was in the church below him. Or at least, no one who’d prove a threat.

As much as she complained about raising her teenage siblings and bemoaned her time at home, he knew that they needed her, and she needed to go home. If he died in a “construction accident,” Catie would be devastated, but she could move on with her life. Sofie was needed. 

His finger squeezed the trigger the rest of the way, his breath stilling long enough to watch the crosshairs settle on his original target as the muffled crack of his rifle echoed through the city and he felt the recoil push into his shoulder.

Messy. Messy. Messy. He repeated to himself, trying not to look too hard at what his crosshairs landed on as he raked the crowd, shooting randomly. There were a lot of innocent people down there, but if he thought about it, he’d never make it through.

When he’d created enough chaos, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and pushed himself back from the edge. Time to get the fuck out.

“I just did get rest,” Catie half-whined in protest, though didn’t object when he pulled her back in. In truth, she’d almost been thankful for the distraction and the reason to keep herself up at all hours. She didn’t sleep well without Charlie, and when he was gone she couldn’t help but flash back to his time in the military when she was unsure if he would come home or not. He was safe now, they were safe now, but she couldn’t help but still feel it. “I can take care of myself when I’m out of law school. Sleep then, too.” She knew the mumble would still be heard, and likely met with more protests. “Until then, coffee.” “Look at us, having a glance into our senior years in our twenties.” She groaned, shaking her head with a bit of a laugh. “Aren’t people our age supposed to be able to be out all night and then fine the next day? This is pitiful. We need to up our game.” Granted, that wasn’t supposed to be a nightly thing as her all-nighters were. “Is this what happens when you go to college and don’t join a sorority and party all the time? You turn into a grandma early?” Catie shook her head, giving him a final squeeze as she pulled away. She reached up to pull the elastic from her hair, feeling the all-too-familiar tension of a headache building that she didn’t want to contribute to. “Nope. No way, partner. I’m as well-rested as I’m going to get.” What a joke. “I can sleep when I’m out of law school and have a name of my own built. ..Maybe not then. I’m pretty sure Annalise sold her soul for the ability to make prosecutors cry and not sleep, so I guess we’ll just see.” She cracked a grin and shrugged, finally finally making her way towards the bathroom. She unbuttoned her stained shirt as she headed that way, half-tempted to throw it away rather than try to rescue it from the stain splattered all over her abdomen. “I’ll be fine after a shower,” she said dismissively, tossing the shirt in his direction once she’d finished, aiming to hit him square in the face. “And I do not snore like a chainsaw.”

Charlie snatched the shirt out of the air as it arced towards his face, more out of reflex than on purpose. “You know I’m going to nag you and worry about you for like, ever, though,” He called after her, turning to head towards the stacked washer and dryer that was nestled in a closet off their kitchen. He spritzed stain treatment on her blouse, before stripping off his shirt to treat it, too. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m over being up at all hours. Let me be an old man,” He answered, raising his voice to be heard across the apartment. “I’m happy to go to bed, when I have someone so lovely to share it with!”

He dropped the two stained shirts into the drum of the washer, followed by two detergent pods, before returning for the dirty clothes he’d packed in his pack for the return home. He emptied the bag, listening to Catie turn on the water. It splashed lightly as she put a hand under the flow to test its temperature.

“I’m just sayin’, I got dibs on you tonight. Annalise can suck it. I’ve been gone for a week and I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on at least falling asleep in the same bed, if nothing more.”

“It’s hot.” The whine was almost child-like, and a pout was added to the end despite the fact that her other wouldn’t see it. “God, and I complained about Texas. Texas has nothing on here.” Her brow was sweaty, and she reached up to wipe it with the back of her hands with a scowl. She would never miss deployments, 110+ degrees in the shade wearing fatigues and gear that may or may not have weighed more than her. This was nothing compared to that by far, but still she found herself complaining. Hey, at least in this situation she was allowed to wear her signature winged liner and bright red lips…even if they were melting off her face. “Good. If someone takes me out, it’ll end my suffering. I’m not designed for humidity, Charlie. We’ve discussed this before.” Petulant like a child, she sighed and re-adjusted herself despite her whining. She shifted back just slightly to swipe at her eyes, regretting wearing make-up after all and just hoping that water proof held true. She couldn’t see with sweat in her eyes, and if she couldn’t see this all was all for nothing. She wanted it to be over with and not have to revisit this in a few weeks time. One and done. She felt the hair that had escaped her fishtail braid sticking to her forehead, and she let out an exhale as she allowed herself to focus on the task at hand and ignore that annoyance as well as other distractions. She adjusted herself again, preparing herself as the parade continued and her target came into view. “ Como siempre seré,” she mumbled, teeth sinking into her lower lip. 

Charlie chuckled from his rooftop hideout. He was baking in the sun on the red terra cotta tile, but it gave him the best vantage point. “We’ve been through worse, Espinosa. Not much worse but... at least Afghanistan was a dry heat?”” Under his padded tac pants, the heat of the day was starting to burn his thighs, but he didn’t dare shift. Not now, not when everything was so close.

“Just imagine how much more comfortable you’d be if you’d left your makeup bag at home, Princess,” He teased, dragging out her much-hated nickname from their time in the Corps together. Sweat was coursing down his face, trailing under his glasses and dripping off his nose. He’d wipe it, but it would just be back a second later.

For all his teasing, he was just as miserable as Espinosa was. And the way they were both sweating, they’d need some electrolyte tablets on the way home, unless they wanted to feel super fucked up tomorrow.

“Right on. I’ll cause some havoc and mayhem, you finish the job, we’ll both get the fuck out of here and get some nice cold beers...” Charlie muttered, lining up his first shot. A police officer, far enough away from the podium to look random. His breathing slowed as he counted his heartbeats, finger curling around the trigger as he squeezed it to the very edge of breaking, waiting...

“It’s just a crazy case,” she mumbled with a sigh, despite the fact that he didn’t seem to mind the mess. “It’ll be over with in a few days, though. Then most of this will be shredded, and the rest will go back to the clinic.” She really couldn’t wait for it to be over with. This was the first case that felt truly unwinnable, but she was really hoping that wouldn’t be the case. The firm she was working for hadn’t lost in the year she had been working there. She hadn’t lost this much sleep looking for an ace in the hole yet. Just the idea of how much sleep she had sacrificed for this case, especially considering the fact that their client was likely guilty. Ugh.

Caitlin idly nuzzled into his neck, hiding another yawn. “I know it’s super not showing right now because I’m too tired to even throw an ounce of enthusiasm your way, but I’m super ridiculously happy you’re back early. It’ll come through once I get some coffee in me.” She was so sick of caffeine, and knew she probably shouldn’t be drinking as much as she was with how fast it made her heart pound. She always told herself she would stop as soon as the case was over, but then the next one began just days (or sometimes even hours) after. “Speaking of, I need to brew another pot….that one is definitely cold by now, don’t drink it.”

Caitlin couldn’t help but muster a smile and roll her eyes as he unbuttoned the top button on her blouse; Charlie never changed. He’d been like this since high school, and it only got worse once he’d joined the military and they had to spend considerable amounts of time away from one another. She sighed a little on the inside; why did he always have to have a job that took him away from her? She would never complain aloud, but it was hard not to sulk at times. “I was gonna throw a load in after my shower. Add your stuff to mine if you want. You just relax, you’ve been gone for a week.” She covered another yawn, reluctantly pulling back. “I don’t need to be at the clinic for…three hours, so I have plenty of time to do it.” No time to nap, though. Damn.

“Crazy case or not, you need to get some rest. You’re not even getting paid to deal with this shit, so you do need to make sure you’re taken care of, too, love,” Charlie murmured, pulling her back towards him and into a hug. He could feel the sticky dampness of the coffee stain they both wore, slowly warming against their skin.

“I’m too tired to get together too much enthusiasm, either, but I’m super excited to be home early, too,” He added, stifling a yawn that was triggered by hers. “I bet after we both get some sleep, we’ll be a lot more excited looking.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, keeping her pulled in close to his lanky frame.

He could blame his construction job for the reason that muscles still swelled underneath his tee shirt as he held her, and not that he was still fighting, albeit in a new way. Getting out of the Marines, he’d expected to grow softer, especially under Catie’s doting, but an unexpected job offer saw to it that he’d never had the chance. 

Caitlin froze when she heard the familiar voice, looking around the apartment in a bit of a panic because he came into view. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. She stood, looking at the mountains of papers around her as she kicked off her heels that she was still wearing from the day before. While she was absolutely ecstatic that he was home early, their apartment was more of a wreck than it had been in a very long time. She had thought that she would have more time, so that she would be able to not only finish this hell case but clean. And not just declutter, but deep clean. He worked hard and deserved a clean apartment to come home to, not this chaos.

“….I thought I would have time clean,” she said a little sheepishly, sighing and offering a smile. “Pay no mind. It’ll be cleared up as soon as I have my breakthrough and the case is over.” She realized how crazy she must look, surrounded by mountains of boxes and files and stacks of papers. “….just try not to touch anything. There’s a method to all of this madness and everything is exactly where I need it to be.”

Then all at once she was crossing the room, up on tiptoe to loop her arms around his neck and pull him close. She buried her face against his neck for a moment, planting a few kisses there before moving up to trail them to his mouth, planting a firm one against his lips. “I missed you” she mumbled as she pulled away, smiling up at him sleepily. Why did he always need to work in a field that took him away from her? He would still take a few odd weeks away over a deployment any day. She pulled back and looked at him, dropping back down onto flat feet. “Sorry about the mess….and the coffee I just transferred from my shirt to yours.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement behind his glasses as she sheepishly tried to explain. “I promise I won’t. Don’t worry about the mess, baby--just worry about you.” He stepped fully into the apartment, dropping his pack on the floor with a soft thump. Charlie had no idea how she’d managed to have her case paperwork get this out of hand in a week, but he was the first to admit he wouldn’t have known a damn thing about what she did in the first place.

“I missed you too,” He mumbled back, leaning into her kisses. He’d definitely missed her kisses, her warmth, her scent... her unending to-do lists. A pang of guilt hit his stomach. He’d promised her when he got out that he’d be done with it all and settle into a normal life, but here he was, deeper in than ever before and desperate to keep her from knowing.

For a person so concerned with tidying up and organization, her apartment showed no signs of either skill. Papers were strewn in a manner that seemed to have no organizational bearings, files and folders piled in a disarray. Several cardboard boxes littered the floor, filled to the brim with more papers and files that she had yet to sort through. Really, the entire living room (and some of the bedroom, but that door was closed to avoid seeing that mess) was more paper than furniture. For a moment, after she’d taken half of a second to breathe, her heart began to pound at the mere thought of how much of a fire hazard she’d produced with all this paper…. but she hadn’t another half a second to care. Too busy, too busy, too busy.  The trial was in two days, and the case still seemed unwinnable. Stacking evidence against their client, testimonies out the wazoo, and not a single ball in their court. The situation was seeming more and more dismal by the moment, and Caitlin found herself questioning if the woman in question had in fact murdered her own daughter after discovering the deceased’s affair with her stepfather. She had to shake that thought away, because even if she believed her client guilty, it was her job to find a way out. Some faulty evidence, discrediting a witness or a medical examiner..something, anything.  Well, it was technically her boss’s job, but she and her other colleagues had been voluntold to find an answer. Any answer, anything, but they were grasping at straws. By colleagues, she meant fellow interns. Why was she doing so much an intern? She asked herself this question at least fifteen times a day, and had to remind herself that the attorney she was interning for was a force to be reckoned with. One of the most sought-after attorneys on the west coast, and she had picked Caitlin and four lucky (well, maybe) others out of all of the students at Stanford Law (approximately 800 or so). Caitlin had to remind herself that she was lucky, that she had earned her golden ticket, that this internship was going to jet set her to greatness once she finished school and passed all of her exams. At least that was what she had to believe while she did all of the leg work for some other woman to take the credit, otherwise she’d cry. And she did enough of that already. But for now, she was asleep. She hadn’t meant to, but exhausted had quite literally taken over and refused to accept anything other than yes as an answer. She wasn’t even comfortable, adding insult to injury, face-down in more papers with cold coffee beside her. She’d averaged three hours of sleep over the course of the past two days, discounting quick power naps where she hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. Caitlin was still dressed for work from the day before, blazer draped across the chair behind her and pink blouse ruffled, but at least the skirt still looked presentable. She may be able to get away with just changing the blouse, the black pencil skirt was pretty interchangeable with the others in her closet… And just like that, her phone rang, and she jolted awake. Her hand immediately knocked into the forgotten coffee mug, pouring the contents onto her lap and earning a sharp (and sleepy) swear. Eyes only half open, she reached blindly across the desk, strewing papers everywhere and onto the floor, patting the surface in search of her phone. It stopped ringing, and Caitlin groaned, leaning back in her chair slightly. She rubbed at her eyes, fighting a yawn, allowing herself a slow stretch. She looked down at her coffee-stained clothes and sighed; so much for re-wearing anything. Her phone began to ring again, and she sighed, reaching for it as she heard the door open. “Connor? Connor, I – what have I told you about calling and showing up simultaneously?”

With a shudder and a jolt, the small jet touched down on the runway of the Palo Alto airport, slowing to a roll. The pilot taxied the plane towards the row it was directed to by the tower, as the jet’s only passenger roused, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Slightly sunburned and more than a little jetlagged, Charlie was back in the U.S. after a week overseas for work. The cockpit door opened to reveal the rather eccentric pilot, his surplus Air Force crush cap atop his head at a jaunty angle, clashing wildly with the parrot-print Hawaiian shirt he wore. Flip flops slapped against the carpet as he stepped out of the cockpit and closed it behind him.

“Thanks for the ride, Mac,” Charlie yawned, stretching one last time before rising from his seat. Mac nodded, already opening the forward closet to retrieve a long, padded case. He handed it to Charlie.

“Any time. I mean, it’s what they pay me for, after all.”

Charlie flashed a friendly grin and bumped his glasses up his nose. In the loose-fitting flannel he wore over a plain tee-shirt, he looked deceptively slight and harmless. He pulled out a coyote-colored daypack from the row of seats behind him, hefting it onto his shoulder as he adjusted the handle of the padded case.

“‘ppreciate it, all the same. You know if Martin’s here yet, or if I’m gonna be stuck waiting for him to pick me up again?”

“See, I thought about it, ‘nd I figured you’d wanna get home to see the little lady as quick as possible... so I told him we were due to land about a half hour ago. He oughta just be gettin’ here now,” Mac grinned lazily, obviously pleased with his foresight.

“Ah, you’re a genius. Thank you. I’ll see you next time, alright?”

Charlie skipped down the steps to the tarmac of the tiny airport, heading for the squat terminal. As he pushed through the glass doors, his cell phone chirped with a message. He juggled his luggage a bit until he’d freed a hand to fish the device out of his pocket to check it. 

I’m here. Black Ford.

The number wasn’t saved, but Charlie knew it was Martin, here to pick him up. Just outside the doors ahead of Charlie was the car in question, a middle-aged man in sunglasses leaning against the side.

He straightened as Charlie pushed through the door, popping the trunk with the keyfob in his hand. 

“Made it back in one piece, I take it,” He commented, reaching out a hand to take Charlie’s bags.

“No thanks to Espinosa,” Charlie griped, handing off his bags and slipping into the back seat, “You mind making a quick stop at the storage unit before dropping me off?”

“Sure thing,” Martin answered, sliding behind the wheel.

---

The first thing Charlie heard upon opening his front door was Catie’s tired, irritated voice scolding her twin.

“Baby, it’s me,” He called back, “Job got done early, so they sent the crew home.”

He’d supposedly been out of town, working as part of a construction crew that was working on building a shopping mall the next state over. That job had been his cover for the past few months, whenever he needed to leave town for work.

As he pushed the door shut behind him, he surveyed the chaos that was their apartment.

“You can’t run on empty, baby.” Katie pulled away slightly to face him instead. Sighing, hands reached up to cup his face. The tears had stopped for the moment, but her cheeks still felt damp from the tracks left moments before; she didn’t dare release him to wipe her face, lest she draw attention to herself. She tried so hard to fixate on him rather than on herself, and for the most part it worked. When she focused on him and his well being, she didn’t have time to let those anxious thoughts creep in. But then anxiety concerning him managed to seep in through the cracks and that was something of an anxiety gateway drug. “Shut up,” she grumbled, a small pout forming as her eyebrows creased together slightly. “I’m not more important. As a matter of fact, I’d argue the contrary. To me, you’re more important. It’s all subjective. Therefore, your argument’s entirely invalid.” Sighing, her thumbs rubbed in circles on his cheeks as her eyes met his then quickly averted. Rambling was one of her tells that she was feeling beyond anxious, that her brain was moving far faster than her mouth ever could (which, really, was impressive considering how much she could talk). She knew she was giving herself away just as much as jumping up and down and yelling ‘hey, my chest is super tight and my heart hurts!’ but she couldn’t help it. Her words earned a roll of the eyes from her, but a smile did pull at the corners of her lips. “You just want some,” she mumbled as she leaned into kiss him. “You always want some. Regardless of a zombie apocalypse, I’m fairly certain your number one priority will be getting it in.” But regardless,she nuzzled in. Pressing a kiss against his pulse point (and lingering there, just for a moment, to feel it flutter against her lips), Katie left a trail of kisses up his neck and across his jaw before planting on firmly against his lips.

“Marine, remember? Running on empty’s pretty much my default state.” He reminded her gently. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to actually sleep soundly through a whole night. I had been a struggle even before the rabids, when he was home with her on leave. He loved sleeping next to her, even when sleeping meant laying awake while the arm she was pillowed on went numb, flinching every time the air conditioner kicked on. Her hands pressed against his cheeks in the darkness, warm against the wind. “I’m actually pretty sure my body would just like, shut down if I got more than four hours of sleep.”

“Well, to me you’re more important so therefore you can suck it, because I’m not awake enough to continue that argument.” He mumbled with a yawn. Trust Katie to be able to argue anything at any time and win. She could probably argue down a rabid, he mused sleepily. She was right, not that he’d ever, ever admit it. There’d be no living with her after that.

“I know.” Despite it all, her voice still sounded tight and caught. Her breaths were shaky and her heart was still pounding, and the accelerated heart rate was making her chest hurt. She needed to calm down, but it was so hard to bring herself down when she was at a ten pushing an eleven. She was a wreck if she wasn’t comfortably settled between a three and a five as it was, and she knew it was just going to take her time to get there.  Anxiety medicines were long gone, and listing and scribbling were hardly an option anymore with her notebooks all getting low on blank sheets of paper. “It’s just the same as always,” she mumbled. She shrugged a little, the motion awkward considering their positioning. It was always the same. Reliving finding him covered in blood, but the nightmares usually took a much worse turn. Being alone in the nightmare they called reality. Her brother attacking her, the light gone from his eyes and replaced instead with an insatiable hunger. They never varied much, but they were all still enough to work her up. “You’re tired,” Katie corrected, shifting around in his hold so that she could see him. “I’m okay, for real. I’ve been asleep for hours, I’m good now.” A lie, but not a big one at the very least. “Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up if I need you.”

It made his chest ache to know that she was so upset, but he had so few options for helping her. Her heart was probably racing, galloping ahead of her with its arrhythmic beat he’d always loved and feared together. She was supposed to be on two different medications for that, but she’d long since run out. And honestly, it wasn’t like either of them would live to be little old people, sitting on a porch together.

Same as always. She’d given him a little view of her nightmares when thy’d first found each other again. He dominated them, bleeding out on the hospital floor. Her brother, trying to eat her alive. He understood. He’d seen the horrors first hand, had put down his own family too.

At first she stiffened up at the touch, jumping and looking abruptly to her side. She nodded once after his question processed, taking in a deep shaky breath as she slowly looked away from him again. Unconsciously she leaned into him, eyes closing tight as tears suddenly formed and she tried to force them away before they fell. She’d always been so quick to cry, too overly emotional, and she hated it. She had never liked crying, especially in front of people, but it was so hard to keep it at bay. Charlie was a different case entirely, especially considering he’d seen her cry more than just about anyone (the only exception was likely her twin brother). But even then, Charlie had enough on his mind. He was so busy keeping them safe and trying to give them some semblance of shelter. Katie felt useless as it was, and nightmares and crying only made those matters worse. “Yeah,” she breathed after a moment, looking over at him again. One hand came up to wipe at her eyes with a closed fist, and she sniffed a little. “I’m okay,” she managed, offering a smile that she knew he would call out as fake. “Sorry to wake you, baby,” she mumbled, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She wasn’t even sure if he’d been sleeping at all, but she felt bad about it regardless. He slept so infrequently, and even when he did she knew it wasn’t soundly. “Go back to sleep, I’m okay.”

Even in the darkness, he knew she was crying. He knew the same way he knew she missed her planner and regular showers and her twin. It was part of what made Katie, Katie. He was glad she still could cry--that the world hadn’t hardened her sweet heart enough to stop her tears. He also knew that she was trying to keep it from him, because she thought he was dealing with too much. That’s why she was his best girl. His grip on her tightened slightly, giving her a squeeze. “You know you can talk about it, right?” He murmured, lips brushing her hair in a soft kiss. “I’m always here for you.”

She was his reason to keep fighting. When he needed the motivation to survive after putting down his little brother and his parents, he focused on finding her. Once he found her, he switched to protecting her. One step at a time, one more headshot, one more day, moving forward beside her. He’d dreamed about facing life with her at his side when he bought the ring years ago. He just never had imagined it would look like this.

The gasp she took in was abrupt as eyes snapped open, her heavy breathing breaking the otherwise silence surrounding them. Sitting up was instinctual as Katie curled in on herself, blanket thrown aside abruptly as she pulled away from the familiar arms that had been wrapped around her. Nausea swirled in her stomach as her vision spun, and she struggled to get her breathing back under control as her forehead hit her knees. The nightmares weren’t uncommon (and were certainly justifiable, considering the current state of the world), but were progressively getting worse.  She didn’t like to talk about them; Charlie had enough on his mind. Hell, he had more on his mind and more on his plate than she ever would. It was an easy decision to keep her mouth shut, and usually it was relatively easy to wake in silent terror and then curl back up into Charlie and try to forget what she’d seen behind closed eyes. But now she was shaking in a cold sweat as she struggled to keep quiet, but that was next to impossible. The cold midnight air sobered her a little, even if the wind in combination with the night terror infused sweat sent her into shivers. Their camp was sufficient and kept them out of sight and would protect them from rain (or, more likely, snow), but the wind still cut through her like a knife despite Charlie’s best efforts. Heart pounding as she recovered, she couldn’t help but wince as her chest felt tight, the too-quick beats too much in combination with the irregular rhythm. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes tight as she fought for composure, but it still remained just out of reach.

Sleeping heavily wasn’t a habit Charlie had retained since high school. When your life was lived under a constant but low-key threat of danger, your brain just couldn’t completely settle all the way, like a wary animal dozing, ears still flicking for any hint of a threat. With the undead roaming the world in greater numbers than ever before... well, he hadn’t had a solid night’s sleep in years. They’d secured their little camp enough to feel that no one needed to stand watch that night, and had bedded down, enjoying curling up together to share warmth against the winter winds.

When the figure next to him jerked upright, Charlie rolled over to face her, fingers curling around the handle of his knife that was never out of reach. Coming to completely, his whisper broke the silence.