A/N: Alright, a long-needed Bullet Witch story. I personally enjoyed the game and found the characters (although quite opposite of each other) to be attachable to one another. Anyways, I thought the game was in due for a fanfiction and here it is. Alicia's character was a bit hard to write, but I hope that I made at least a good attempt at it.
Sighing, Maxwell looked down at the cold, cup of coffee in hand. It actually didn't really resemble much of coffee. Nor did it taste like it either. It was more like a cup of water mixed with something bitter. And the styrofoam cup didn't help much either. But whatever could keep him awake, after fifteen hours without sleep, was useful.
Slightly moving the cup in his hands, he observed the wreckage that spread in a five mile radius around him. The Geist really enjoyed killing people, causing havoc, and destroying buildings. Only the empty shells of the buildings overshadowed the lost city. Roads had been upturned and broken on some of the main passageways, while others were completely wiped out. There were random vehicles scattered about, either in a pile with thirty others, in trees, or flipped over on sidewalks. Everything about a city was lost somewhere else in the past. This place…it wasn't the lively, crowd-bustling place that was a pain in the neck to visit during the holidays, but you did anyways to shop and see family.
Now it was nothing more than just a simple shadow of its former self.
But, with the portal closed now, the Geist army was cut off from reinforcements. While their army still outnumbered them almost eight to one, at least they still had a chance to survive. They just took it one city at a time, clearing any Geist soldiers out of their way. Although the Geist Giants took a longer time, and the clean up was never easy, they were still a rare sight to see. As long as they could keep this up without any causalities themselves, then the human race might still have a chance. While he wasn't sure where the Geist had emerged, whether it was just in America, or all around the world, he tried to assure himself there would be other resistance groups coming together. Because it would suck if he and his men were the only ones. Not that he doubted their own strength, but it was tiring as hell to clear out a city of the Geist, clean up the bodies, find any survivors and then assign them to start on recreation. Then the next few days would be spent traveling to the next city, only to repeat the whole process again. The whole thing was beginning to wear him down. Hell, he found some gray hairs the other day, not to mention he hadn't shaved in some time now. He could feel the slight stubble growing along his face. Maybe he should grow a goatee.
He sighed some before tossing out the cold liquid into a small, dying plant that had somehow managed to wiggle through the cracks in the concrete. The lack of noise around him signaled that most of the soldiers had either taken the moment to get some rest or were off exploring the wrecked city with survivors, checking for any kind of supplies available. Or they were just taking a much needed smoke break. He guessed most of them were out back smoking, seeing as they always commented that it calmed them down. He didn't know; he didn't smoke. Too many health hazards.
"This is the longest you've ever been quiet."
He jumped at the voice before recognizing the almost monotone hint in it. A light chuckle formed at his lips and he ran a quick hand through his blonde spikes. "Alicia, you should know not to sneak up on me." he shook his head before looking over at the young woman sitting next to him. Her gunrod placed beside her, always with at least one hand on it. "And how long have you been sitting there?"
If she had a watch, she probably would've looked at it to mark off the time. But she didn't and instead her eyes drifted slightly to the darkening road in front of them. "Seven minutes. Give or take."
"Was I really thinking hard enough to ignore you?" He asked. "Man, that would explain the headache." he chuckled mildly at his own joke, only to be accompanied by her silence. Always with the one-sided conversations… he thought, giving a mental sigh. Although without her, they'd all probably be dead. She was the world's savior in this situation. "So, uh, any reason you came over? I mean, I can't help but to notice that most of the time, you try to avoid me."
"It's really hard to do that," she noted, still staring straight ahead. "Seeing as most of the time, you're everywhere."
"Yeah, I guess it seems like I just follow you around like a puppy," he commented.
"How many cities have you cleared?" she asked suddenly.
He took a moment to think, and count them over in his head. "About twenty in total."
"Any causalities?" she continued.
"Just one. But it was from a heart condition, not the Geist," he answered. "We're doing pretty good on men right now. A few problems with ammo and guns, but nothing a few military bunkers don't help with. I think as long as we can keep up with what we're doing now, then we should be okay in the future."
"Sounds like you don't need me anymore," she remarked.
"Are you kidding? You're just about the only thing the men keep fighting for," Maxwell replied. "They figure as long as you keep fighting, they'll keep fighting. You think it's just my good mood and high morale that keeps this group going?" she didn't even glance at him. "Not to mention all the guys would rather fight with a beautiful woman, who is invincible on the field."
"Is that what all the soldiers think…" she started, before her head turned and faced him. "Or just you?"
It almost seemed to be a mistake to meet her eyes. The dark orbs were like vises against his own, locking him down in one place with no chance of escaping. His mind seemed jumbled at first but he was quick to get back on his feet. "The rest of the world, sweetheart."
She seemed to think nothing on the comment and just went back to her staring. "Have you heard any word on your family?"
Man, she had a way with ruining a good moment. He sighed and stared up at the dark sky above. "Not yet. They lived somewhere up North, so maybe we'll run into them along the way." his parents had died when he entered the service, but his sister and cousins all lived in one area somewhere around New York City. There was a slim chance they were still alive, seeing as that was the first city hit when hell rolled out in the form of Geist.
"I'm sure they're okay," she spoke, resting a hand on his shoulder.
He chuckled once again. "That's the nicest thing you've said me yet." While it was true, he was really thinking of her hand on his shoulder. This was the first time she touched him voluntarily, without him pulling her into a hug. "Maybe this situation isn't hopeless."
It took her a moment before she moved her hand away. "You weren't talking about the Geist, were you?"
She shook her head, although he could've sworn he saw the slight upturn of a smile on her lips. "I can try, can't I?"
Instead of answering, she grabbed her gunrod and stood up. A low breeze lifted the loose fabric of her overskirt, as well as the lighter strands of her hair. "A storm's approaching."
"How can you tell?" he questioned, noting that the dark clouds had been like so for years now.
"You can tell in the wind," she answered, holding her hand out just as the first few droplets of rain began to fall.
He looked up as the rain droplets fell from the dark sky above, and began to wonder if it was a possibility of acid rain. Who knew what the environment had gone through with gas station explosions, as well as destruction of chemical labs. Either way, he didn't want to find out. "Sometimes I wonder if you don't just control the weather as well." he teased, getting to his feet. "But best get back inside before things get heavy out here."
She just nodded in acknowledgement before following him as he turned and headed towards an old-run down motel. It was cheap looking, but one of the better buildings in the town. At least all of its floors were intact. They took quick shelter under the rain guards, just as millions of droplets came down. Softly rattling against the tin railings.
"You think the Geist fight in the rain?" Maxwell asked.
"Yes," Alicia answered.
"I thought so." with that, he turned and headed down the outside hallway. He noticed that she was quick to follow him as he turned inside the building before heading up a short flight of stairs. "There's larger rooms up here. We're using most of them as a dressing station, but there's still one or two we haven't filled out yet. So maybe if you're lucky, you won't get stuck sharing a room with me."
She obviously didn't think much on his joke, because she didn't comment back. Then again, she never really did.
"Commander Cougar!" he stopped and turned at the call, watching as one of his soldiers came trotting after them. From the looks of his rain-soaked uniform, he didn't get out of the weather in time. "The search party has returned safely. We found a few useful items for the survivors, including a small generator and batteries."
"That's good," Maxwell nodded. "What about the survivors?"
"We gave them the remaining rooms," the officer reported.
"Alright, well make sure they're cozy. I don't think this storm will be ending anytime soon," he spoke, watching as the officer nodded before dismissing himself. He turned back to Alicia. "Well looks like you'll have to bunk with me for awhile. Although I'll be willing to sleep outside if you don't want my company."
"Just go." was her only response.
He laughed and continued on down the narrow hallway before coming to the room on the end. A set of keys were already hanging from the doorknob. Unlocking the door, he had to shoulder it slightly to get it open before revealing the maroon-themed room inside. "Well, home sweet home."
She slightly brushed her way past him to get a good observation of the place. Sure enough, it had motel qualities. Cracked wallpaper, stained carpet, dusty furniture and even rabbit ears on the TV. She didn't even want to know what the bathroom looked like. Instead, she noted that a second bed had been moved into the room, with a small side table separating them.
"My offer is still up," he spoke.
"It's fine," she replied, setting her gunrod on a small, rounded table in one corner.
He shrugged and walked over to the bed closest to the door. Pulling back the covers just long enough to note that at least the sheets were clean this time. Stretching lightly, causing his entire body to crack and pop, he removed what light armor he wore and set it aside. The bed squeaked as he sat down on it, but gave a louder squeal as he rolled back on it. It would be nice to put in a few hours of sleep before they would have to move on to the next town.
Alicia watched him for a moment, noting that he quickly relaxed and went to sleep. Then again, she had watched him run around, directing troops and survivors for nearly two days without resting. This must've been like a lucky break for him. Turning away, she tossed back the covers of her own bed before settling quietly against the mattress. It didn't make a sound.
5.7 billion people had been slaughtered when the Geist first broke out. Less than a billion remained now. And of all the living people left, she had to get stuck with Commander of the Resistance, Maxwell Cougar. She had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not. Different parts of her argued over the subject matter, but she always reminded herself that she was a witch now. No longer capable of human emotions…this is what her father had sacrificed himself for. A witch.
But still, the thought of her father brought a cold dagger to her chest. A freak plane accident left her dead…and her father in mayhem. And now, he was the one dead and she…, she would've been better off dead than anything else. Sometimes she still asked herself why her father would do something like that? Sacrifice himself, and open a portal to hell just to bring her back?
I was his daughter…he would've done anything for me…
She wasn't aware she had fallen asleep till she woke up from it. Her hands clung to the sheets, as her dark eyes cut through the darkness in front of her. It only took seconds before she remembered where she was and calmed down. Slipping out of bed, she carefully moved around the room till she made it to the large window at the front. She carefully pushed back the heavy drapes and peered out of the smudged, dirty window. It was still raining, with no chance of loosening up anytime soon.
Stepping back, she glanced lightly at the figure behind her. He had somehow rolled to the middle of the bed, with both arms outstretched to his right, as he laid on that same side. He looked different when he slept. Much more serious looking, as all his features seemed to be creased. She wondered what could make him be in such thought, even when sleeping. Walking around to the other side to get a better view of his face, she noted that his scars seemed to be more defined when he slept. His blonde spikes were mashed down and stuck in all directions, making him almost seem years younger.
She reached forward and gently brushed a slight bang from his face, watching as he seemed to relax at her touch. Her fingertips slightly dragged down along his chiseled face before resting against his arm once more. She pulled back for a moment before carefully slipping in next to him. The mattress only giving a short, small squeak that was hidden easily by the soft tapping of rain outside. She carefully maneuver between his arms, till she was almost against his hest. He only shifted once, and that was just his head.
Maybe she could learn something from him. She always felt different around him…more…alive almost. Maybe he would be the one who could teach her to be strong and fight, instead of the other way around.
Maybe he could remind her what it was like to be human. To be what her father died for. If she could feel sorrow…then maybe she could feel what it would be like to be wanted…and loved.