05: There Is An End To This Road, Right? (2)

"A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended." - Ian McEwan, Atonement

Trigger Warning: (Child abuse): Verbal abuse toward minors; Suicide; Dismemberment (Kaiju and Human)

November 8 TH , 2019

When Angela returned from the bathroom she didn't notice Jessica until she almost walked into her. Jessica was crouched in front of the bunk, rifling through one of the boxes Margret sent her.

"What are you doing?"

Jessica had the sense to look like she'd done something wrong, but her curiosities got the better of her when she pulled a photograph from the box. "I didn't mean to pry, but it was kinda sticking out and I couldn't help it," The girl shrugged shamelessly. "You didn't tell me your dad was a soldier."

"There's not much to tell," She said, taking the photograph. "He did his duty and came back scrambled." The photograph was of her, Margret and Frank on his motorcycle. She was wearing his favorite leather jacket, Margret was on her lap and they're safe and secure against him while her mother takes the picture. Angela never had any aspirations of being a soldier, but her mother always told her Frank was a hero for going to war. She loved the idea of her father being a hero. It certainly gave her something to talk about in class as a kid. She idolized him a lot more because of it. Funny she would find herself in a similar situation, completely divorced from the intimacy of human violence. "Is this, like, a family tradition?"

"How do you mean?" Angela picked the box up from the ground put the picture back inside. Margret probably put it in there by mistake. She'd send it back to her when she got the chance. As Jessica stood she started to fidget, scuffing her feet in the same way she used to when she had a crush on some boy. "If it weren't for the Kaiju, would you join the military like you dad?"

"No, I would certainly not," Angela replied, sitting on her bed. "I was a graphics designer, I liked my job. My husband, though? He was a soldier." She grinned sourly. "Still is, really."

"Cool." At Angela's glare, Jessica corrected herself. "I mean, I think- well, I actually, I do think it is cool." She nodded a child prepared to stand their ground against their parent. "He helps people when it counts. Like us."

Angela chose to keep her bitter thoughts to herself. "Why did that picture interest you so much, Jessica?"

"I've started having these dreams about your dad, actually," She said.

Angela's eyebrows raised above her bangs. "Well, I'm sorry for that."

"I mean it's not pervy or anything, they're memories mostly. Hugs or birthday presents, motorcycle rides. The usual, I guess. But, it starts getting really dark," Jessica said, making a wavy motion with her hand. "Like someone turned off the lights or something. I don't know how to explain it, really. There are all these emotions - confusion, anger, fear. All about your dad and when you were a kid." Jessica pointed to the box. "I wanted to find out if I was just making this stuff up. He seems nice in all the pictures I found."

Angela doesn't speak for a moment. She stares down at the box then back up at her partner. Jessica's got a look on her face that clearly states she'll find out one way or another, by accident or by RABTT chasing. "My dad... he had some troubles after we were born. Mum says he was having problems all along, like drinking and nightmares, but kept quiet about because he figured he could handle it. But, things exploded when he lost his job. He was stuck at home with two kids while his wife was at work. He yelled at us, mostly at me. The one time he almost hurt my sister, my mother left him because of it," Angela explained calmly. "She told me his behavior was because of the pills they gave him a long time ago, some kind of neurotoxin that messed him up, but she wasn't about to let us stay in that environment."

"And your dad, he just let her leave?"

"No," Angela scoffed. "But that didn't mean my uncle was going let him in his house, which is where we went."

"Did he get help at least?"

"Eventually."

Jessica lowered her face into her hands. "Oh, my God, Angela, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I mean- I meant to, but I didn't think-!"

"My other co-pilot, Miranda, she had the same kinds of questions after we Drifted." She paused. "You could've asked."

"You might've opened up to Miranda, but you don't talk a lot about yourself to me," Jessica said. At the roll of Angela's eyes she continued. "I mean, I don't talk about myself either and we see a lot of ourselves in the Drift, but- I dunno, I guess I'm starting wonder. What are we to each other exactly?"

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

She shrugged. "After the war started, people really didn't care whether or not you lost your family to a giant monster. If you were homeless, you were homeless, you know? If I stayed out of the way, I wouldn't be bothered. If I knew when to hide, I'd be safe. Here? Here, I feel like I belong somewhere. Like I can be safe and keep people safe, and that's mostly because of you're my partner. They let me stay because Marshall Pentecost wanted us to be partners, because you chose me.

"But, you're distant and really cold sometimes. I hear all these great stories about co-pilots, how connected they are. But us?" Jessica pointed to the box. "There's a connection, but you don't want to develop it. We work together, yeah, but, we never wear our jackets at the same time. And I can always tell you don't wanna be bothered with small talk, or jokes. You're always thinking about him and if you're not thinking about him, you're thinking about Miranda. And if you're not thinking about her, it's your husband. Where do I fit?"

Angela couldn't say she never put much thought into her relationship with Jessica. When they were partnered up, she was still getting over Miranda and the idea of having more than one voice in her head, more than two sets of memories.

Jessica took a while to come out of her shell. When she did, Angela's obligation to talk diminished and so did the compulsion to share. Angela was content with working under the assumption that they were just partners, even if she knew the girl felt otherwise. She never thought it could be translated as not caring, though. "What do you want us to be?"

"I want us to be friends," Jessica replied. "I wanna be like the other pilots, I guess. Talk outside the Drift and be proud of the things we do. I don't want to be angry, scared and sad all the time. I wanna matter to you, Angela."

Angela flinched when she saw one hand cover Jessica's face in a vain attempt to hide the tears running down her face. "That's what I want," Jessica raised her hands in surrender. "I didn't mean to word vomit." Rising from the bed Angela gathered the girl up in her arms. Jessica let out a sob and wrapped her arms around Angela's middle. "Jessie, you matter to me," Angela soothed, rubbing her back.

"It doesn't feel like it," Jessica spoke into her shirt.

"Well, we can add that to the list of things Angela Hansen mucks up," Angela murmured into her hair. She could tell the girl in her arms she didn't mean to be an ass about how she felt, didn't mean to retreat inside herself and toil over and over on the reasons that brought her to Kodiak island and the Jaeger Program. But she doesn't.

Angela tried to be a better friend and partner to her. The leather jacket embroidered with their Jaeger's logo still reminded her of her father, invoked the old smells from her childhood. Separating one from the other was hard, but not impossible. So, she tried to think of Jessica's wanted and needed when she wore it.

November 11 th 2019 -

The Defense Corps can't afford to have them suspended for long, so they're given the lenient suspension of three weeks. It was torture for Jessica, who doesn't like the idea of being benched at all, but Angela takes it in stride, choosing to preoccupy herself with writing to Margret.

Her inbox was somewhat empty. Margret had only sent a few e-mails and letters every now and again since getting married. She was preoccupied with her husband, David, something she remembered being herself.

Once upon a time, she figured they wouldn't be that kind of couple, but Herc and Angela couldn't keep their hands off each other the first couple weeks of their marriage. She was sure they would've spent most of it in bed if she didn't have an obligation to her job.

Angela did her best to recount most of what she did prior to dropping off the face of the planet with her sister.

In the background, she could always hear Jessica grumbling to herself, wondering what to do now she couldn't go anywhere near their Jaeger until suspension was up. Girl was merely twenty one, but you wouldn't have been able to tell by the way she crawled up the walls from Jaeger withdrawal. "I just wanna tinker with her, is that too much to ask?"

"Apparently, so, Jessie."

Angela had to order her out of the Shatterdome every now and again, socialize with someone who wasn't entrenched in the war effort. Jessica always felt like she was betraying their friendship by even thinking of becoming attached to someone else, but Angela assured her she wasn't the jealous type. "World's not gonna end if you're not spending every waking hour with me, Jessie."

Still, Jessica manages to get her Jaeger fix from somewhere easily without ever approaching the Jaeger bays. By now, everyone's heard of the billion dollar Jaeger, Striker Eureka. The first Mark-5 and final Jaeger produced by the Defense Corps., sat cozy in the Sydney Shatterdome. Angela remembered hearing rumors of the recession of the Mark production, but she never thought they'd stop at only one Mark-5.

She saw the blueprints and the rough cell phone photographs taken by a Shatterdome tech in Sydney. If she could have described it, Angela barely thought "shiny" was the proper word for it. Striker was cold. Everything about its design spoke of an immediate detachment from empathy, but a complete dedication to its purpose. Angela could already see Jessica daydreaming about piloting it, everyone was.

Mako is fourteen when Herc sees her again. She's at the age where her body doesn't seem to know what to do with the extra length it's gained so she walks around the Sydney Shatterdome like she isn't accustomed to her own feet yet. The combat boots aren't helping either, he figures.

Still, whenever she's around, it's the happiest (or most content) he's seen Stacker. Some part of him was jealous of that stability, really.

Though he lost his sister and was arguably separated from his partner, Tamsin, by mere location, Stacker had someone to talk to or bounce off of. Mako was a constant. Herc, he didn't have anything remotely resembling that. His brother hated his guts and wanted him nowhere him once the trial was over. Angela also hated him, and would arguably chuck another helmet at him if she saw him again. When the suspension was given, Herc didn't know what to do with hisself. His Jaeger was under repairs and would be reassigned to other pilots.

Herc was effectively without any ties. He couldn't focus on anything, he found himself relatively unmotivated to check into bay six, where Striker Eureka currently rested on its laurels. He'd been excited before things went downhill, now his level passion for Jaegers was below the point of apathy. He found himself wandering around the Shatterdome, feeling out of sorts, wondering if he should go and pester his best friend for a cuppa and shoot the breeze. Of course, that was beginning to appear next to impossible. Stacker seemed busier and busier these days, even with Mako to look after. He jumped from dome to dome, preoccupied with finalization of the Jaeger Program's production.

So, it's something of a surprise, the one day he decides to crawl out of his shadowy hole he calls a bedroom, he walks right into Miss Mako Mori. She apologized for not looking where her feet were taking her. He accepted it for her pride's sake, adjusting his vest nervously. "How long have you've been here, Miss Mori?"

"For a week. Sensei -" She stops, correcting herself. "The Marshall, he was in Auckland prior to coming here."

"I know, I was there."

"I do not know the particulars, but Miss Hansberry was very upset about the drop, but did not conduct herself properly when she disagreed with the other team," Mako's eyes met his. She spoke vaguely, but Herc was fully aware that she knew with whom Angela disagreed. He hung his head for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. "Something happened, something out of my control," He said. He wouldn't say anything else, and she wasn't prying. Her gaze slightly judgmental, Mako nodded her head in subtle understanding. "Miss Hansberry, she doesn't like to talk to me."

"Don't take it personally, Miss Mori," He said, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Angela hates everybody."

"She doesn't hate her co-pilot," Mako replied, watching Herc frown. "And, I think, she misses Max. Why did he stay behind?"

"I couldn't tell ya, I don't speak dog," Herc sighed. "Is Stacker around?"

"Not at the moment," Mako replied. "He should return shortly. If it's important, I can give him a message."

"It's not, but thank you," Herc nodded, appreciative of her concern. They parted ways, Herc heading out of the Shatterdome, Mako ready to preoccupy herself with pestering the Jaeger teams for spare parts.

November 21 ST, 2019 -

There are certain things you learn to get used to.

Bad food, too little food to really complain about quality and a fewer variations in your wardrobe than you care to admit. Fatigues work, but she missed being able to wear something pretty just for the sake of it.

She's half sleep when the alarm goes off and the screen across from their bed starts relaying information on the Kaiju rising. She waits until she hears Jessica's eager feet hit the floor before she follows her out of bed. Milling about the bedroom, Angela tries to find her bearings while people are banging on their door. She's only been forty for eleven months, but it has not been kind to her on any physical level despite being in peak condition.

Jessica was a rabbit, hoping from end of the room to another, fetching her clothes, adjusting her toothbrush in her mouth. She stops long enough to sling an arm around her shoulder and kiss on her cheek. When Jessica says it, it's flat, all "om" instead of "um", lacking the inflection of her own accent. No one's called her mum for a very long time. Angela knows it out of jest, but it's hard to keep it under control. "I'm not your mother, sweetheart," She's surprised by how soft her voice is. She should be angry, but she's isn't.

Jessica gave her this kind of shrug, the type she's only seen children make when their admonished, but don't particularly care they're wrong in this case. "I know you're not," She said. "Anyways, it was just a joke." They both allow themselves to smile, Jessica doesn't say anymore, but Angela gets the message.

Surrogacy could be a bitch sometimes.

They had less than seven minutes to get ready. Walking down the hall toward the Drivesuit room, it almost seems a tad ridiculous to put on clothes just to get out of them. No one questions the routine, of course. She suspects no one actually wants to see what their teammates wear underneath their uniforms. Tango's jackets, retrofitted bomber jackets, bore at least four Kaiju heads their respective left arms.

Less than five minutes now. Jessica sauntered into Tango Tasmania's Conn-Pod, the sound of their boots echo in the noisy chamber as its inner workings begin to power up. "Whadya do wanna do after this?"

"Take a nap and call my sister. You?"

"There are a couple of the guys from the other crew who wanna—you know, go clubbing, and I was just wondering if you wanted to come," Jessica clarified.

"Sorry, no. I promised my sister that I'd call her later," At Jessica's expression, she added, "We can talk for a really long time." Jessica didn't hide the doubt, but let the comment past. Double checking the panels, they gave Jaime, the LOCCENT controller, the all clear. Tango Tasmania's head dropped down the shaft toward the body.

Tango Tasmania's last Kaiju was another flyer. The city had been evacuated, but it did nothing to stop the Kaiju from following the path of buildings until it found the largest one to perch itself on top of. The skyscraper was built to last under normal circumstances, but something told Angela and Jessica it wasn't designed to hold the weight of a Kaiju. The structure was slowly crumbling beneath the creature's weight, something it tried to counteract by wrapping its tail around the base just below it and keeping its wings spread.

From where they stood in the center of the city and a fair distance from their target, the creature's size was immense, its width alone well past their Jaeger's. They could see the reflection of the sunlight on its scales that were in constant movement on its forum arms. "What is this thing, again?"

"According to command? It's a Category IV, codename: Avion," Angela replied, overlooking the data stream being fed into the HUD. Jessica swallowed. This would be another first for them. The sound of jets overhead caught their and Avion's attention, Avion's head moved left to right in search of the sound. The last thing they needed was a pair of causalities on their hands if they could prevent it.

Reaching over, Angela sounded the horn and nodded to Jessica. Tango turned its back on Avion as the Kaiju's gaze finally locked on to them. The jets forgotten, the creature uncoiled its tail from around the building and pushed away from the rooftop. Avion soared allowed itself to drop for a moment before steadying its wings.

Tango's legs carried them through the maze of buildings as the creature flew overhead. "Sweet Jesus," If she could, Angela was sure Jessica's cross would've been between her teeth in an instant. Avion's body cast a shadow big enough to block out the sun from the height it was flying, the thing was far larger than it looked at a distance. "LOCCENT!"

"We read you, Tango," Jaime replied.

"Is it is supposed to be this big?" Jessica inquired nervously as she watched the creature circle above them, eyes constantly on them. "Jessica, 109 meters, 3,475 tons is the typical weight of a CIV Kaiju. Keep it together, kid," Jaime responded.

"LOCCENT, what's the ETA on backup? This is a pretty big Kaiju."

"We're working on it, Tango. Do what you can."

"Roger, that," Angela felt her partner resign herself to the idea and burry her fears before it interfered with her job.

Tango kept moving toward the open expanse of the city itself. Avion followed them, its low growl the only indication that it was tracking their movement. In other instances, they've been attacked the moment they so much as twitched a finger in a Kaiju's direction. But Avion, it seemed content with merely watching them move through the city. What that meant was anyone's guess, but they couldn't do anything to it until it came to them.

What about the guncannon?

Its accuracy isn't great long range and it's not a beam cannon.

I know, but it might get its attention.

Angela couldn't argue with that logic, but they were barely any near their- something clicked in her mind.

Jessica looked around. Angela blinked and looked toward the HUD. Avion's avatar was missing from the display. Tango Tasmania stopped. Its hull creaked as they looked back and forth around their environment, baffled. "LOCCENT, we've lost the target," Angela relayed as she glanced upward, despite knowing she couldn't see anything beyond the hull of the Conn-Pod. "Do you have a visual?"

"Visual is confirmed, it's moving right toward your position," Jamie relayed. As the LOCCENT officer completed her sentence, the growl of the creature echoed throughout the empty city followed by a thunderous boom. Tango Tasmania turned as Avion's wings crashed through the first building they laid eyes on. Avion showed no regard for the environment around it, its wings cut through the buildings around it like a knife.

Standing between two buildings, there was nowhere for them to run. God, I wish we had more than a cannon right now, Jessica mused as they aimed the right arm. They pumped their right arm back and forth, charging the weapon to half power. Avion screeched in retaliation. Tango Tasmania fired its guncannon as the Kaiju collided with them. The blast fired over its shoulder, barely grazing its scales.

The corresponding buildings crumbled around them as they tried to get a hold on one another. Tango's fist collided with Avion's jaw; the Kaiju surged forward, ramming its head against the Conn-Pod. Angela and Jessica were sent reeling back, their harnesses locked in place as it tried to accommodate to the sudden change in energy.

Claws tore into metal as debris fell on top of them. Avion's arms wrapped around their upper body and its wings heaved upward, blocking the rest of the crumbling building from them. Jessica screamed as the Jaeger was lifted from the ground and thrown into the side of a building. Avion's horn cracked Tango's opal visor, Angela and Jessica struggled to keep the Avion's jaw from enclosing around the head. The Kaiju instead clamped down on the left hand's fingers as it lifted them higher into the air.

Watching Jaeger combat on television was something of a ritual in the Shatterdome. It didn't matter when or where the fight was taking place, everyone who could afford to be away from their stations, were situated themselves wherever there was a television or a radio.

LOCCENT was not a place for loitering and only a few were allowed up on that particular deck. Herc had been in the middle contemplating what to eat when the familiar sound of clumsy footfalls in combat boots broke his concentration. Mako braced herself against the railing of the stairs leading up to the serving area, huffing and puff. Herc watched her, brow furrowed. "Fighting- Jaeger, Kaiju," She huffed. "Miss Hansberry."

Jaeger = Fighting = Kaiju. Tango Tasmania. Angela. It made sense when he strung the words together. He looked down at the food, suddenly disinterested. "C'mon!" Mako gestured toward herself and headed back down the stairs, he followed. Herc and Mako moved against the flow of the crowd heading for the recreation center. She grabbed him by the wrist, frustrated with his pace.

Picking up her feet, they moved through the wide expanse of the hangar back toward the elevator that would take them to the upper level. They said nothing to each other on the way up, Mako concentrated her attention on chewing her fingernails. Herc was content to observe the hands on his watch, the heavy doors opened to a busy hallway.

Mako was out before him, pushing past technicians as she may. Herc followed her path, most got out of his way on principle. As if attuned to the sounds around him, LOCCENT officer Berno Dawkins, turned in his chair as Mako came to a stop just a few inches away from him. "Oi, what are you doin' here?" He blurted, more annoyed than usual if this was the first time Mako had done this.

Mako flashed her badge, the one that gave her no real clearance anywhere just yet. She was too young to join the academy (as far as Stacker was concerned) and certainly not old enough to be assigned to any maintenance team in the dome. She might as well have said "I'm the Marshall's daughter" and saw where that got her. "She's with me, Berno," Herc replied, stepping out from behind Mako. The girl frowned but said nothing.

"What's the situation?"

"Dismal if anything," Berno shot Mako another look of suspicion before shifting his attention back over to the projection. Herc's gaze follows suit. The two screens projected on the left and right. One monitored the Jaeger, and her pilots, the other the point of attack. Tango Tasmania was already in the red, the right arm was missing; hull integrity was down to seventy percent. Next to the avatar bearing the Jaeger's name Herc felt his jaw clench when he saw the specification for the Kaiju on the avatar circling Tango's. "Jesus, Berno, they're taking a Category IV on their own?"

"Ayup, that's what I said. I'm about to lose a pot to some cub scout who bet on a Kaiju."

Herc glared at the controller, the man chose to ignore his reaction. He leaned forward on the deck and stared into the projection. "Where's their backup?"

"Auckland can't get anyone close enough on the horn. Saber's still in Seoul with Nova and Cherno, they deployed Diablo Intercept and Crimson Typhoon soon as we contacted 'em, but they're not gonna get there time," Berno replied. "I'm surprised the old girl's managed this long."

"If she's anything like her pilots, she's not goin' down easy," Herc remarked. He listened to the radio chatter and tried to pick out Angela among the static and overlapping voices.

She could never tell when exactly winning fell to the wayside and the losing began. The Kaiju had the advantage that much was for certain. How it managed to keep them up in the air, dragging them across the face of every building in their proximity, was baffling.

The free fall was even worse, crashing down into the streets. Avion wasn't exactly giving them a fair chance to retaliate, not that she expected it to. The most they could is grapple with the creature when it wasn't throwing them against buildings and evading them. Avion had the clear advantage, using its weight against them at every turn.

Tango Tasmania scrambled to its feet, tearing at the ground beneath it as it slammed its right shoulder into its face. Avion fell back on its side with a howl. Tango moved to pin the creature when its tail swung upward and slashed through the left chest panel. Angela and Jessica braced themselves against the glass as the Conn-Pod's visor shattered. Avion was already up and vanishing around the corner by the time they recovered.

It moved faster than either Jessica or Angela would've liked, using the city as its shield. Every volley fired from guncannon seemed content to miss their target, instead obliterating every vacant building in their path. This thing's toying with us, Jessica remarked, her anger bleeding through their link. Angela fed off of it, attempting to focus that energy into something useful. The beat of its wings kept them on edge, moving in a constant circle, unsure of where it would attack next.

"Right!"

What?

Angela and Jessica turned as Avion's talon's closed around Tango Tasmania's arm and pulled it from its socket. Jessica felt her right side of the run hot before going completely dead, a complete opposite of the scream that escaped Angela as she fell to her knees. Avion banked around the corner and discarded the twitching arm. Circling high, it moved to make its next attack.

Diablo Intercept and Crimson Typhoon weren't going to make it.

Striker Eureka had no pilots was and still in the troubleshooting stages.

Tango Tasmania was on its own. Mako's kept her gaze affixed to the radar, her eyes occasionally shifting to observe Herc. The man paced around in small space of the LOCCENT, the only real indication of distress besides that was in his eyes and the subtle way they flickered whenever he heard the sound of her voice and the voices of the others corresponding in the Auckland Shatterdome.

Below she could hear a group of people groan in unison, as though they were at a sporting event. Before, there had been nothing but enthusiastic cheers, rooting against the Kaiju. Now, Mako was lucky if she heard at least one person still cheering Tango Tasmania on. No, they were all holding their breath now, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

A cold nose bumped her pants leg, Mako looked down to find Max sitting next to her, wanting her attention. She welcomed the distraction, scratching behind his ears.

Tango Tasmania's offensive was desperate. With the right arm gone and their hull compromised, there was little to do but never give their enemy a chance to attack you. If they took another hit to the Conn-Pod or lost the right arm, they were dead. The weight of the Jaeger worked against them, Avion used its speed and agility to knock them off guard, break their focus.

Tango Tasmania moved clumsily through the city to evade the Kaiju's attacks. Angela's right arm hung uselessly at her side. It did no good to move it; it merely agitated the socket of the Jaeger. Avion flew overhead, claws tearing at the tops of the buildings. They ducked reflexively, moving quicker through the maze toward the harbor.

Avion swooped down from the clouds and raced toward them. "Jessie, brace yourself!" Everything was depending on how quickly Jessica reacted, how she reacted with her. Avion grabbed hold of their waist its hind legs, wrapping one muscular arm around them. Tango's feet left the ground, the Kaiju howled, pulling their weight up higher and higher.

The Jaeger flailed in its grasp, fighting to maintain stability as the creature batted its wings against their weight. Tango's head collided with Avion's jaw several times in the hopes of getting free. Even as they were thrown about in their harnesses, they stopped the Kaiju's second arm from reaching their neck. The Jaeger's hand switched. As Avion's arm surged forward they grabbed its forearm and began to pull it away from its body. Avion's free arm swung upward. The Conn-Pod shuddered as the rest of Tango's visor fell away from its face.

The Kaiju's sneer seemed to become a smile when it paused to regard them. Drool fell into the Conn-Pod at the rate of rain, Angela's heart spiked when Jessica's did, but they didn't stop to observe. Their muscles strained, reaching their breaking point when the skin of the Kaiju finally began to tear away from its body. Its bone snapped, breaking away from the muscle encased around it. Avion shrieked as its arm went flying from its body to the mercy of the winds.

The Kaiju surged forward, its teeth clamped down on the head without a second thought, its body jerked forward. Mom! Dad! Jessica screamed and Angela could do nothing as she fell backward into her memories. There was an ugly sound tearing in the background; the elder pilot turned as light burst through the back of the Conn-Pod's doorway. The sharp end of what could only be the Kaiju's tail shot past her and right through Jessica.

Red blinded her. She couldn't tell what was in front of her anymore. A crowd bodies smashed against her, her son's dry hair bit into the palm of her hand, the smell of blood and smoke filled her senses. The sunlight of the morning before it was obscured by buildings. The side of her face throbbed from the backhand that sent her crashing into the foot-board and the ground; shoes beating her head and back, helicopter rotors; bay water and old flannel. Hope you're doing well. I'm bored (sad face). Hope your good (smiley face). Don't think. Mom. Don't think. Dad. Don't think. Don't go. Get off her! Don't touch her! Don't think. Just let it go. They're not coming back. He's not coming back.

Angela's ears throbbed at the sound of the flatline being fed into her suit, she watched as the Conn-Pod was torn in half by the tail and Avion's mouth. Sunlight blinded her further as one half of Jessica disappeared in a bloom of fire and torn metal.

Her arm moved before the rest of her knew what she was doing; she balled her hand into a fist until she could feel her fingernails through her glove. Discarding piece of the Conn-Pod in its mouth, Avion bit down on the cannon with the intention to tear remaining arm from the Jaeger's body. Stupid bastard, Angela thinks as everything hits her at once and pulls her down.

The Kaiju never got any higher than the clouds before the cannon fired a volley strong enough to blow the back of its head from its body. Avion's ascension deceased, its corpse fell on top of Tango Tasmania's mangled body and they plummeted in spiral.

The worst thing in the world was knowing there about a thousand or so more miles between them. He couldn't just get on a helicopter and head straight for her (not now anyway).

Anyone who'd been watching the fight on the television knew how and when the Jaeger crashed landed; spiraling out of control, thrusters failing to maintain a steady propulsion as they sped closer and closer toward the harbor. Avion broke Tango's landing, their combined weight snapped the harbor bridge in half where it met in the middle.

Herc zoned out. The screams, the sound of both suits flat lining before Tango Tasmania's beacon vanished from the projection in conjunction with the blood red avatar that signified the Kaiju's death. All it put him back in a place in his head he never wanted to visit again. Everyone was watching him, eyes wide and uncertain of how he would react. Mako came in the clearest, she held Max in her arms, he could hear the dog whining as he tried to squirm out of her arms and jump into his.

Automatically he extended his arms, his expression stony. Mako was only too happy to give the dog up to him. Max made himself comfortable, short arms attempting to hug him, and his chin resting where his right paw lay. Mako regarded everyone around her with uncertain eyes, her fingers pressed into her palm she kept her arms at her side and back straight. "I'm sure they're fine, Mr. Hansen," She didn't quite believe the words herself. The memory of her own denial drifting back up from the recesses of her mind. Her parents would come back little Mako thought to herself, they were just lost.

Herc, however, wasn't a little girl. He, like sensei, was someone who was familiar with death and combat. She could only speculate. He kept his hand firm on Max's back as he nodded numbly in response. "I have to call her sister," He said. "She'd want to know."

"Of course. We'll handle things here, Mr. Hansen."

He didn't remember leaving the LOCCENT. Traveled through the Shatterdome in search of his bedroom; he could feel Max breathing against his chest, the occasional whine escaping him. He sat on the bed, Max slumped down onto his lap and jumped down onto the floor and shimmied under the bed.

"I have to call Margret," He said. Max barked. Herc jumped a little, his breathing picked up. The bulldog stood on his hind legs, his cell phone was clamped between his teeth, but it wasn't what Herc was seeing though he took it from him.

Max was still wearing Angela's wedding ring on his collar.

Rescue and hazmat crews were sent from the Shatterdome almost immediately once the dust settled over the disaster. Tango Tasmania lay on top of the headless Kaiju, bleeding black, red and blue. Angela hung from what remained of the Jaeger's Conn-Pod, one leg free while the other was trapped.

Half aware and slow to realize to what happen, she listened to the sound of her breathing fall in rhythm with the alarm. The rescue team worked to free her from the Jaeger while the hazmat team neutralized the blood running into the harbour.

Nothing responded when she fell into the arms of a dozen people - maybe it was just five, she couldn't remember. There's twinge in her left leg that progresses into a pain that feels like a pair jaws on her legs. Her helmet falls from her head and the next thing she hears is helicopter rotors.

Jessie.

Crimson Typhoon and Diablo Intercept were able to aid in the aftermath of Tango Tasmania's fight with Avion. The Mark-4 and Mark-2 Jaeger waded through the harbour, carrying the remains of the Kaiju toward the ships that were assigned to carry them from the site.

Both bodies were tangled in the frame of the bridge, Tango literally speared by the beam of the bridge while Avion hung onto the frame of the Jaeger in a death grip. It was a wonder that the reactor was untouched. The triplets, Cheung, Hu and Jin regarded the mangled mess of machine and monster with morbid curiosity.

Neither of them had ever seen a Jaeger at its lowest point; torn to pieces and gutted. The HUD picked up traces of human blood splattered inside the ruined Conn-Pod and spied the unfortunate end of what was left of the dead pilot. 「Do you think she felt anything?」The youngest inquired from behind as the third arm rotated with the other and grabbed hold of the Kaiju's body. 「I'm not even sure what hit her to be honest.」 Cheung remarked as Avion's middle tore away from the rest of its body. Tango Tasmania slumped further into the harbour. The Wei's deliberated over what to do. The worse that could possibly happen if they pulled her out was taking the harness with them.

Typhoon's free hand worked its way around the body and pulled. 「Hey, Camilla, Sofia!」

Diablo Intercept turned in response, the spotlights on either side of its head illuminating the diminishing light of the environment. "What is it, Typhoon?"

"Call signs, Typhoon, call signs," Sofia replied sardonically. Crimson Typhoon's head shook in a manner that reflected the triplet's exasperation from the unnecessary reminder. It's not like they were using walkie talkies. "We found a body," Hu relayed, extending the right arm that cradled Jennifer Hardwick. Diablo Intercept moved through the water toward them, the Wei flinched slightly when their spotlights hit their scope square in the eye. Camilla and Sofia were careful not to touch the body as their HUD examined the body. 「We don't know where the rest of her is.」 Hu remarked.

"LOCCENT," Sofia relayed with a frown. "We've found the other body."

"Can you identify which one it is?"

「Jessica Hardwick. Ranger Hansberry's co-pilot.」 Jin said.

"Come again, Typhoon?"

"They said, Jessica Hardwick," Camilla repeated.

"Right, sorry. Bring her in or take the remains to one of the HAZMAT teams," Jaime stated. "Can you determine the cause of death?"

"We can, but I'd rather not say on the coms. It's not pretty."

November 22 nd , 2019

Hansberry sisters were all bite and very little bark. They'd cut you worse with words than their fists, the complete opposite him and his brother. He barely mustered up the courage to call Margret when his phone began to ring.

Lying in his bed, Max curled against his middle; he picked up on the second ring, and uttered a sleepy "hello?" He expected a very angry little sister. Instead, he's greeted by the sound of an irate Uncle Mac and Margret demanding silence while she retreated into another room.

He's barely sitting upright when she started asking questions. "Where is she? Do you know if she's okay?"

"No. No, I don't know anything. They haven't told me anything."

"Well, why not? Aren't you involved with that Pentecost fella?"

"Pentecost isn't here, Margie. I don't know who's handling the retrieval."

"This is all my fault. I should've- I should've stopped her, changed her mind."

"You can't blame yourself for this, Margie. You know there's no changing her mind once it's made up."

"I should've tried, anyway. Why didn't you stop her? You're her husband, why didn't-"

"We got a divorce, Marge."

There was a squeak on the other end of the line, like she swallowed something. "...She never told me."

Herc's brow creased. "I figured you'd be the first to know," He said.

"No. No, I never knew. Why didn't-?"

"Look, I'm gonna try and find out what's happening, I'll come get you as soon as I know anything."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I promise."

The first Shatterdome Margret Hansberry ever visited was Sydney's. She'd barely gotten over the idea of being treated like a VIP before the jeep traveled through the double doors leading into the huge facility. Herc was waiting for her on the other side, hands in his pockets and still wearing that atrocious vest of his. Standing next to him was a girl who stood no taller than herself, wearing combat boots and hoddie. Max sits between them and she's reminded of what her sister told her about their separation.

She jumped out of the jeep before it came to a pull stop, the wind picked up around her and she looked off to the far right. A helicopter was just starting up. Pulling her jacket closer around her she moved toward Herc, shoulders hunched. He looked just as bad as she did. "Where is she?" She bellowed over the roar of the chopper. Herc nodded in the direction of the chaos kicking her skirts up. "She's in Auckland," He replied. "Care to join me?"

His eyes wander over to the helicopter, Margret doesn't waste her time asking why and what fors. She nods her head and followed him when he and the girl start moving toward the helicopter. Max trotted excitedly behind them, if dogs were even remotely capable of carrying on a conversation, she might've chewed his floppy ears off for abandoning her sister.

There was a man waiting in the chopper when the doors slid open. Margret held her breath, taken aback by his studious expression, but she recognized him right off. "Mr. Pentecost, hiya," The greeting comes off as awkward, but he receives the message, either by virtue of her poor communication skills or the fact that something just passed between him and Herc as she clambered into the cramped space.

The space smells of metal and leather, she feels out of place and everyone except Max knows it. Max sits on her lap and watches as the world below disappears. She could think of nothing except reaching her sister. Her nails were nubs because of it. Don't be dead Angela, don't be dead.

Waiting is the hardest part about arriving to the Shatterdome's hospital wing. It's certainly the longest he'd been in Margret's company in years since she was fourteen and babysitting Chuck. Angela's doctor, Maxine Guevara, was certain she'd be fine, but she wasn't getting back on feet or in a Jaeger anytime soon. The mental shock alone was probably going to keep her grounded until medical leave was over. "When can we see her? I mean, can I see her, she is my sister?" Margret spoke a mile a minute, never giving Herc a chance to assert himself in the initial conversation.

"I can't say just yet, you have to wait until Dr. Guevara comes out of surgery."

"You said she was fine-"

"And she is. She just needs a little fixing up. You don't get out of a scrap like that and not come out busted." The nurse almost sounded offended that Margret didn't know otherwise.

"Busted how?" Herc asked before Margret could tear into the nurse.

"It's internal bleeding mostly; some of it'll heal on its own, the rest has to be fixed," The nurse fixed her gaze on Margret, who started to pace. "She also suffered lacerations, concussion, and a compound fracture in her right leg."

"But she'll be fine?" Herc inquired.

"If all goes well in surgery, then, yes," The nurse said. "Trust me. The Jaeger took most of the beating." She left before Margret could make any further remarks.

No one would tell him what happened to Jessica, there wasn't even a mention of her when they arrived at the Shatterdome. He assumed she was dead, hence the silence, but the nature of her death must've been something they wanted to keep from him and Margret, considering what happened the last time his ex wound up in a situation like this.

Pentecost was fairly maintained throughout the whole ordeal. For all his resolve, Herc felt his knees buckle every time he looked down the hall that would take him to Angela once allowed. Margret wasn't any better, but she had the virtue of being distracted by Max, who preoccupied her. Mako actually appeared to be using her clipboard for something other than shielding herself from outward troubles; she interacted with the nurses on a level that impressed him, but it appeared to be par for the course for Pentecost.

"It never gets any easier does it?"

"…No. It doesn't."

"Watching your family hurt," Stacker fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve. "You can tell yourself it doesn't do any good, worrying, but you worry and when something does happen, you can barely think of what to do."

Herc stared out at the desk situated in across from him. His hands flipped the pages of the wrinkled magazine on the coffee table out of habit. "That goes without saying," Herc replied. "How is Sevier, by the way?"

"Last I checked in with her, Tam was doing well. Walking around, making sweaters," Stacker said. "That was six weeks ago. I haven't heard back from her."

"Marshall," Mako stepped in front of the table that separated her from her father. Stacker and Herc looked up in response. Mako had the clipboard against her chest again, the pin twirled in her hand. "There's a situation that needs your attention in LOCCENT."

"Have you got what you need?" Stacker asked.

"Yes, all relevant data on Miss Hansberry and Jessica Hardwick has been collected from Nurse Cindy," She said, handing him the clipboard. Stacker stood from the chair, he looked over the clipboard for a moment and nodded appreciatively. "I've gotta go," He said. "If anything changes-"

"I'll give ya a ring, yeah," Herc finished. Pentecost allowed hisself to linger, even as Mako moved to leave, thinking the matter was done with. "I'll be fine, get outta here," Herc assured his friend. Never one for second guessing the decisions of others, Stacker departed from the waiting room, Mako trailing beside him.

Margret and Herc waited for hours. They fell asleep in shifts, watching the clock tick time away. Neither would leave the other's side when they suggested finding someplace to sleep (a motel, the Shatterdome quarters, anywhere but the waiting room). When he woke up the next time, Margret was still oblivious to the world, curled up in an awkward position on the couch, Max sleeping in her lap. Dr. Guevara appeared from around the corner, wearing blue scrubs tinged in blood. His breath caught in his throat as reached over and to wake Margret. The younger Hansberry's red hair fell away from her face as she sat up, Max jumped onto the floor and began to pace. "Is she, okay?" She blurted.

"Yes, your sister's fine, Ms. Hansberry," She answered. "Surgery went off without a hitch." Margret covered her mouth to hide her sob. Herc wrapped one arm around her shoulder and steadied her as her legs gave out.

Margret was still crying when they're finally allowed to see Angela. She lay prone in the bed, mouth slightly agape. She was a mess of bruises and bandages, but there isn't the slightest indication of pain on her face. "What happened to her partner?"

"Pentecost wouldn't tell me, but- I think she didn't make it," Herc explained.

"Oh," She was quiet for a moment. "The last person I saw like this was mum," Margret hiccupped. "She wasn't bruised or anything, but she was sleeping - I found her in her room. Angie hadn't come around to talk to her in a while… but it didn't matter, because she was dead already."

"That's not gonna happen to her."

"Dunno how you can be so sure," Margret sniffed. "I saw those things hit the harbor on television. By all rights, she should be dead. She might still die."

"Hey," Margret looked up from her sister. Herc took Angela's hand in his. "Your sister's a fighter, she's not gonna die because of some bloody Kaiju. Not when she's got you to see again."

Margret almost gave him a similar sentiment, but thought better of it. "You better be right," She said.

November 24, 2019

Herc and Margret were in and out of the Shatterdome's hospital wing for days. In that time, Margret preoccupied herself with filing through her sister's bedroom, counting the little trinkets she got from her Kaiju victories (a scale there, a tooth fragment here; maybe a gift one of the coastal city inhabitants gave her), frowning at the amass of unopened boxes that sat under the bed in a neat row.

Herc would choose to linger outside the bedroom door until she dragged him in, bothered by his odd ritualistic need not to encroach on her sister's territory. "What she doesn't know won't kill her," She told him. "I'm not certainly gonna tell her you were in here with me."

Herc keeps his hands in his pockets, content not to touch anything until he sees the picture of himself, Angela and Chuck on his 8TH birthday, taped on the wall next to a Polaroid photograph of her and Jessica Hardwick in a bear hug, just two weeks earlier. "She was cute," Margret commented, tracing the girl's jawline. "Probably a lot of fun to, judging by Angie's expression."

Somewhere around Margret's second visit to the hospital, Angela began to stir. Margret was perhaps a little unrestrained and deprived of sleep, to hold back the squeak of excitement when her sister opened one eye and looked right at her. "She didn't say anything, but she was conscious and they said that was good thing."

Of course it was a good thing, Herc thought, he just hated that he wasn't present when it happened.

November 25, 2019

Coming out of a fog was difficult, navigating through pain was harder. Some part of Angela knew she wasn't in a Jaeger, the other was consciously fighting to claw its way free of it. She still felt it weighing heavy on her back, still felt it being torn away from her body as every piece of the bridge lodged itself into their middle.

She felt her spine disconnect from her body when the Kaiju speared her. Jessie. That's what woke her up.

Her middle half, her better half, it was numb - quiet.

"Jessie?" Her voice came out in a whisper. Her eyes opened, dark filled her vision in succession with the sound of the heart monitor. "Jessie?" Jessie. There was no one on the other end to receive her voice; the tug and pull was there, but the bond that tethered them together was frayed, swinging in darkness. She tried to move, pain shot up her leg and she went rigid. She saw of flashes of red, the light of guncannon before it off. The weight of her body against the mattress became clear, Angela let herself cry.

She was still awake when Margret and Herc came around for another visit. Angela recognized the high and low of Margret's voice immediately as it followed the click-clack of her heels. Her head is fuzzy from the drugs they gave her to dull the pain in her leg, she barely catches herself when her sister throws her arms around her. She doesn't try to stop her when she squeezed her.

"I thought you were a goner," Margret said, mascara running down her face. Angela struggles to maintain a coherent line of thought as she wipes her sister's face clean with her sheet. "I'm just really glad you're here," It was best she could think to say and it seemed all Margret needed to hear.

"Oh, God, what happened to your eye?" Herc leaned a little to the left to get a look at his ex, but he couldn't see past Margret's back.

"Doc says it's normal after what happened," She answered. "It'll get better, I promise."

Removing herself from her sister's embrace, Margret tucked her hair behind her ear. "I, uh, brought some company."

"It wouldn't be the company lurking in the door like a schoolboy?" Angela could barely raise her arm to point. Margret cast a look over her shoulder. Herc was indeed lurking in the doorway, watching the two sisters like they were most interesting people in the world. "Be nice, Angie, he was worried about you. We all were," Margret admonished. "If worries were promises-" Angela fell back against the pillows behind her, grimacing at the twinge of pain in her leg. She ignored the glare her sister shot her as she said, "Well, c'mon in, Hercules. My nails are broken, so I can't scratch you."

Herc approached the bed at casual pace, shoulders back and his chin up. "I wish you'd call me Herc," He said, daring to bring her 'recent' habit to center point. Angela yawned. "Do you know what happened to my Jaeger?" Herc's eyes switched over to Margret, her sister wore something of an exasperated look as she pleaded silently with him not to say anything. "I'm not sure if it's my place-"

"You're a Ranger, I'm a Ranger, your place is as good any," Angela interjected. "What happened to her?"

"She's in a pretty bad way, your team isn't even sure it's worth trying to fix," He said.

"And the Kaiju?"

"The Kaiju's dead, Angie. Brute can't walk around without a head."

Angela's shoulders sagged; she looked in direction of her sister. "Could you give us a minute, sis?"

"Sure, I need to check on Max, anyway," Margret pressed a kiss to her forehead and moved away from the bed. She shared a brief look with Herc as she stepped out of the room. Herc waited until Margret's footfalls were far enough away before he focused his attention back on Angela.

She patted the edge of the bed; he moved across the room a casual pace and placed himself in the chair next to the bed. "How long has it been since the fight?"

"Almost a week," Herc answered. "You've been out for six days."

There's another beat before she allowed herself to speak. "What did they do with her body?"

"Angie-"

"I know what happened to her, Herc, I felt it," She said. "I just want to know- if they found her." She turned to face him. Herc contemplated his answer; his mind found itself reliving the very moment he told her about their son's death. She'd been hysterical, clawing at his shirt through half-awareness and demanding that he tell her the truth, stop lying to her.

The circumstances here were different; she knew her partner was dead, but the confirmation of her remains might send them back into the same situation. "…I haven't be told anything, but, if they did find her," He stopped when he heard the monitor spike. "Angela-" He placed a hand on her wrist. "Angie, look at me." Angela pulled her wrist away from his hand, hand curling into a fist. She opened her eyes and focused on him. "If they did find her, I'm sure they've taken care of everything. Yeah?"

"Why am I still here?"

He stopped short of answering her, taken aback by the question. He could play dumb, comment on her leg, but he knew exactly what she meant. "You really think anyone would be better off if you were dead?" He asked. Angela shook her head, tears running down her face. "All I know is that there are two kids dead- because of me."

"You had nothing to do with what happened to her-"

"I was her pilot, I was supposed to look after her, protect her," She protested.

"You were supposed to look after each other, and you did. What happened- it wasn't in your control." He stood up from the chair, Angela's breathing accelerated, interrupted by hiccups. He took her earlier invitation and sat on the edge of the bed. "Everyone around me keeps dying or they disappear. I don't have- I'm not," Angela clutched at the bed sheets. "I don't want to be here anymore if it means I have to keep going through this."

"You're thinking- you're thinking of killing yourself?" The question fell clumsily from his mouth.

Angela shook her head. "I'm tired, Herc. I'm so fucking tired."

"Angela, I know this has been hard, but things will get better."

"No, they won't."

"We're winning, there's still a chance that things can get better. Margret, she needs you. I need y-."

He stopped when Angela looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, worse so because of what happened in the Jaeger. "You don't need me. I don't want to be needed. I hate you."

"Angela you can tell me you hate me until we're old and gray and it won't make a difference. I'll respect how you feel, but it won't change how I feel about you."

She continued to stare him down, eyes at half mass, body trembling. "That is a really fucked up thing to say to me, Herc. You don't know shit about me- how your feelings more important than mine?"

"I never said they-"

"What about how I feel? What about my fucking life? If I don't want it, shouldn't I be allowed to just leave? Fuck you!" She shoved him off the bed. He barely caught himself as he stumbled forward.

"Shit," Herc paced around the room with hands behind his head. He watched her break down, his mind and his instincts pulled him in two different directions. "I've never been good at talking to you when you're-shit!"

"Get out of my room!"

"I don't want you to kill yourself. That's it! That's all I can think to say you."

"Get out!"

When Margret came back Angela was crying her way to sleep. "What the hell did you do, Hercules?" Herc tried to explain the situation to her as best as he could. Margret couldn't believe him, even when she recognized the words as her sisters. Margret pushed him out of the room and told him to take a walk. Max was trailing behind him as he returned to Angela's bedroom.

Suicidal thoughts weren't uncommon among Jaeger pilots who lost partners, the doctors had been prepared for it, he was sure, but it still scared him to hear her say that to him. He relayed what he knew to Dr. Guevara. The doctor had kept her cool while her and told him to leave the situation alone until Angela had time to rest. When he came back to her hospital room, Margret looked ready to stand guard at her bedroom door. Herc convinced her to head back to Angela's quarters. He'd watch over her as soon as they decided to kick him out of the medical wing.

November 27, 2019

Herc stirred at the touch of fingers curling around the short hairs on his head. Rubbing his face against his arm, he lifted his gaze up from behind his arm and locked gazes with the woman staring down at him. "You're awake," He sat up, her fingers fell away from his hair and her hand found its place back atop the head of her not-so-faithful companion, Max.

The dog had found its way out of her bedroom from Margret's side back to his. Max was insistent on joining Angela on the bed, uncomfortable with how little space he was afforded on Herc's lap. She barely stirred when he flopped on her left side and propped his head on her arm.

"So, it would appear," Angela sighed. "Shouldn't you be somewhere killing Kaiju?"

"Not at the moment, no," He replied. "I'm here as long as Margret's outta of the room. She's sleep."

"Margret sleeps like the dead, it'll be a while," Angela said. "They haven't paired you up with another pilot?"

"They have," Herc said. "Fella named Michael Courbet. But it's temporary, consider-"

"Considering he's the pilot of Vulcan Spectre," Angela finished.

"Yeah, we've got Striker Eureka,"

"Ooh, the new hotness." Herc frowned, Angela shrugged. "It something Jessie- it's stupid."

"No, it's not stupid," He laughed. "It's just weird coming from you is all."

"I've said stupider things," Angela remarked. "Anyway, you're lucky to have him, I heard Courbet's great."

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll pair you up with someone once you're done mend-" Angela regarded him with a sideways glance. "I mean, if you want to, that is." Angela didn't answer him right away. She busied herself with caressing the wrinkly skin of her pet, Max leaned into her caress. "I don't think have a choice in that," She said. "I don't have a Jaeger, I doubt I'll be let anywhere near another after what happened."

"What happened wasn't your fault, Angela," Herc said. "You were sent against a Category IV on your own and the fact that you did as well you did is amazing."

"Max's collar is missing, what did you do with it?" She asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't do anything with it, Margret might've done something though," He said with a frown. "She likes to wash his things. She was absolutely appalled that I practically let him create a second bed with all his fur."

Angela snorted. "That sounds like my sister, neat freak extraordinaire. What time is it?"

"Quarter to twelve," Herc replied. "You wouldn't be looking for this, would you?" He extended his arm over the bed and opened his hand. Angela stared down at his hand; her ring was sitting pretty in his palm, linked on a chain next to her dog tag.

She started to wonder what happened after the crash; what happened to her suit, her underwear- stupid things in retrospect, really. Reaching up, she let her finger trace the running vertical down her face. "I thought I lost them. The tags, I mean."

"They were about the only thing left of your belongings after the fight," Herc said. "The ring, Margie wanted me to give it back to you." Angela relieved him of the necklace and sat it on the bed next to Max.

"Thank you."

"Thank your sister, she stopped them from throwing them out," Herc said.

"Thank you, Margret," She said.

"Listen- about the other day-"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"I know you don't, but I want you know that I'm here of you, no matter what. And so is your sister."

Angela didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded, hoping he would drop the matter altogether.

December 11, 2019

Time moved at a snail's pace. Margret became a literal fixture in the Shatterdome. Everyone referred to her as "Margie" and can't believe the two of them are related ("you're so different from her!"), as though they were supposed to be identical in manner and personality. An expert on all things holistic and organic, Margret took to feeding her blender vegetables.

The virtue of the human body's notoriety for bouncing back from broken bones spurred her on to make her drinks full of all her daily vitamins and other essentials. "Drink this and your bones'll be twice as tough," Margret declared. "Mum would be proud of me- both of us, really. Me looking after myself, you saving the world from monsters."

Angela appreciated her company, but she wanted her to go back home and resume her life. There was no point in losing her job because she chose to remain at her side, but knowing Margret, she likely worked something out with her boss.

She dipped in and out of the fog that clouded her head. The drugs weren't helping her sense of self, but it distracted her from the pain, allowed her think of other things. Nightmares were rarity sometimes. If they happened regularly, however, she could never remember anything besides how they made her feel. Worthless, weak and frightened.

December 15, 2019

Herc was and out of the medical wing, they don't talk much and that's partly because Angela can't bring herself to simply relax in his presence. She's afraid he'll bring up that day and she doesn't want to talk to him about that.

But he doesn't.

He plays games with Max, he talks to her about mechanics, how many bolts he managed to find on a Jaeger, anything. His voice filled her head, clashed with Margret's. The one time she woke up from a nightmare while he was present, she elbowed him in the face. He stopped sleeping with his head so close to her arm, though she apologized for the involuntary action that left him black-eyed. "Can't be any worse than the other bruises you gave me," He said, ice pack against his eye.

"That was a joke-" Angela just stared him.

She spent the rest of the days frazzled by the tiniest sound - something that doesn't go unnoticed by her ex. He keeps trying to connect with her until he's contacted by Pentecost. He's needed back in Sydney.

Margret actually hugs him before he goes, a sign that's something changed between the two. "Don't be a stranger. It's lonely 'round here when there's only this cranky bird to talk to," She told him. Angela glared at the two of them, silently plotting her sister's demise once she was able-bodied and upright. Herc spared her the jokes. "I dunno when I'll be able to see you again, but I'll when I get the chance. Don't hesitate to call me," He told her.

Angela felt the hairs on her neck bristle as she nods. "I'll keep that in mind."

TBC

Author's Note: So, I managed to find some free time to edit this and halved the final chapter into another fragment. Again for the sake of an update (i.e. "Still alive. School still sucks").

(1): Constructive Criticisms and the like is welcome, especially what with the themes in this particular part of the finale.

(2): Angela's father, Franklin "Frank" Hansberry (1953-2000), was RAAF pilot during the Vietnam war. He was given prescription pills for malaria. After he was sent back home (1975), married Jennifer Kazinsky, Angela's mother (1950-2001). Angela was born two/three years later (February 1979). He took the pills whenever he thought was experiencing symptoms of malaria, all of which compounded his PTSD. He fought frequently with his wife and when he lost his job, took it out on his daughters by yelling them.

(3): There a fantastic piece of artwork on Deviantart by by ptitvinc ("My Jaeger") that actually captures how I would think Tango Tasmania could look like (sans the chainsaw blade on its left arm).

(4): You can read about Jessica Hardwick at my tumblr greatrunner. Look for the tag "My Headcanon".

(5): Avion is blatantly based on the Colossi of the same name in Shadow of the Colossus (PS2, 2005) and Devimon from Digimon Adventure.

(6): About the Shatterdomes in Auckland and Sydney. I had this theory that they were all connected through a database/system (whatever) and no matter the Jaeger launched, the other Shatterdomes could monitor the activity going on in that specific area.

Next Part: 07: My Feet Have Led Me Straight Into My Grave (3)