The word had aged. It had grown older, the firm foundations slowly degrading. Everything had held itself together for so long, decades without change, yet the colouring had turned dark in only a couple of weeks.

And Charlie had witnessed every step of the process. It wasn't often he ever looked at anything but the wooden ceiling. By now, he knew all the details, every crack and imperfection that was there. He knew it better than his own hand, better than his own mind. He knew how it developed, how the mould grew from the sides, how it would soon crumble, and crush him from above.

His eyes were dry again. They always got dry at the current time of the day. The easy fix would be to blink, but… Charlie found it hard to do so. He did not like it. Even if he was supposed to see only black, so much else was shown. The lack of light only brought other things to replace it. It brought somebody to replace it, every detail still burning brightly.

How he hated his body, always betraying him. At some point, he would always get to see it. No matter what he did, that crackling, that suddenly stopped breathing came to the forefront of his mouth. The wooden floor creaked every time he shifted his weight, making him want to sit stock still. It made it all too hard to bear.

Did he regret it? No. Did he want it to have never happened? Yes. Would he do anything to make it go away from his mind? Yes. Would he have done anything else in the same situation? No. Charlie understood what he had done was the best choice he could have made. Yet, even the best choice was not always good. His mind had told him that every day since. It didn't let him forget anything about it.

Why wasn't he allowed to forget? Why would the image of a broken neck not just disappear into the cloud, only to be vaguely remembered? Why did he need to see Darlow’s vacant eyes every time he lost focus? He could not sleep without waking up in a cold sweat, could not eat without feeling the need to vomit, and there was nothing that could be done. Why could he not just-

"Hand me the tablet," Mara asked in her own special way, having yet again woken from her slumber. Looking at the shadow on the wall, she had gotten up earlier than normal. Charlie remembered the days where he took that as a good thing.

He knew the pain she felt. He could see it in her eyes. Mara might have been a strong-willed heathen, but there was only so much pure force of mind could do. It obviously couldn't heal worsening organ failure. Still… there was not even the slightest hint of the pain. Her face was as impassive as ever.

"I think that's called ‘could you hand me the tabled?’" Charlie reminded her, giving Mara a small smile as she handed it to her. He did not smile often. Charlie understood he should smile more. He understood what it did to the others when did not do just that. Yet, it was just so hard to do. Letting Mara see it was already hard enough. "Courtesy should be easy enough for you."

"Talking should be likewise easy enough for you when you show off how much you can your mouth off," Mara answered. The device powered up flawlessly. It really was a worthwhile item to procure. She had wanted to get it close to the start when her condition had not looked too dire. Or, not too dire to him and Troy. She had likely known the truth since the start. "Maybe show off this ability to the youngest when you get the chance."

Troy… that was not what Charlie thought about much. He always did come up, even if the large man tried to avoid the subject. The bright young man, intending to let him escape from the facility. He had loved the idea, loved the gift given. And… it had been ruined in the worst way it could have possibly been.

A price had been taken, the gift being close to a trade. Charlie liked to think he had shaken the devil's hand. But, the one he had shaken hands with was Troy, the young man who only had his best intentions from the start. Those eyes had not lied to him. They had betrayed no malice towards him. If anything, they had shown the opposite.

"I don't think I can, for now," Charlie said. It was the same answer he always gave. Yes, Troy did not deserve it. Yes, Charlie was the one in the wrong for acting the way he was. Yes, he should have apologised for being so cold. But… he just couldn't. Not until it was over.

"I expected as much," Mara said. She looked back down at the device. One handheld it, while the other slowly wrote down on it. There had never been clear communication about what was on it, nor had the woman ever confirmed anything Charlie had guessed it to be. Every time he tried to take a look, she would always turn off the screen.

Not that he needed to look. Mara was not one to waste time writing down paltry things. Charlie had figured that out through the years he had spent by her side. If there was one thing that woman hated, it was to waste time in any capacity. And, from the stories told during the mornings, she was making up for the time that had been wasted.

She was rewriting her notes. Everything she knew, everything that could give an edge over their competition, everything that she had planned to do going forward. It was a set of notes that she had spent years preparing, always making sure to write down every useful detail. Not long before they had escaped, Dr Fidelis had destroyed those notes. He had ripped them apart, putting them in unfixable disarray. Charlie wasn't sure if the man had any clue about what he was doing, but the fact remained that everything had been destroyed.

So that was what she did. Every day, during the time where she could move her fingers, Mara wrote everything she could. Each time she did so, Charlie could see oh so clearly that nothing was wrong with that brilliant head of hers. She was the same person she had always been, albeit a bit on the dying side.

If only she wasn't such a private person. Charlie wasn't allowed to see it. He was not allowed to know what she wrote. The one time he tried to track her fingers, she had given him one the strongest glares she had seen on her face for a very long time. It had been one of the best memories he had gotten as of late.

"How long until you're done writing it all down?" Charlie asked. Every second of his day was spent making sure that she was alright. That meant he had to make sure that she was alright in every way. With her current condition, there was always the chance of unnoticed internal haemorrhaging. Charlie knew he would be able to stop it if he could detect it in time, but… that requires him to talk, asking questions that Mara found annoying.

And this time was no exception. She gave him a mild glare, pausing momentarily in her finger-pressing. It was times like these where Charlie so strongly felt like putting on a smirk. It was what he would usually do. But, he didn't.

By this point, he knew that it was a legitimate annoyance. Mara was genuinely annoyed with him for constantly asking that. And, he was annoyed that he had to ask for it. A few weeks before, he would have been able to simply scan her body from afar. Charlie had chosen utility enhancements for a reason. With them, he could always make sure everything was alright.

If only it had not gone all wrong. It had caused another overuse of his temporary strengthening. Charlie had not joked about the effects. His body had been hit by it, some of his implanted devices not able to keep up with the internal stress. He could fix it in the future, sure, but they would remain unworkable for now.

It could have all gone so differently. If only they hadn't been so stupid...

"You don't need to watch over me constantly. Go do something else," Mara said, as she always did every couple of days. It was a little early for it even. Charlie wondered what had spurred it on this time. Maybe his paranoia was finally beginning to show a little. That had been a conversation. That had also been the first time he had forced a laugh after making a joke.

"There is not much to do. Nothing is as important as this," Charlie said, never taking her eyes off her. "Mara, we need you to be alive. I can't make sure of that if I-"

"Make a better excuse," Mara challenged. That was new. It would usually be an argumentation through repetition. It wasn't like either felt the need to shout. They had done so plenty before, and neither thought it wise to do again.

"If we lose you, then we will lose everything," Charlie stated, beginning to realise a staring contest was starting up. That was fine with him. He had been preparing for such an occurrence for the last many days.

"If we lose anybody, we lose everything," Mara fired back. "There is nothing we can do without Troy, nothing we can do without you."

That was true. Mara was the brains, Charlie was the brawns, and Troy… Troy was something special. He was in a class best left for the damned. Later in their escape, Mara had told them just why the young man had been so desperately needed. Know that he understood it…. it was more than just unethical.

"Then we watch over each other. You're hurt, and our sole goal is to make sure we can stop that from-"

Charlie stopped talking the moment he heard the door being pushed open. Was Troy already here? No… it was opened with a heavy hand, pushing the door right into the wall. An unknown enemy had just entered.

Taking one meaningful glance at the wounded woman, Charlie slowly stood up, preparing to once again fight for his life. He went over to the side, putting his body against the wall. He would be practically invisible for anybody walking further inside the house, positioned in a blind spot. A lot of time had been spent preparing for the moment he would have to use it, and there was no chance Charlie would mess it up.

Sniffing could be heard. Was it cold outside? From the quick check done twenty minutes prior, it was not too far over freezing temperatures. Yet… that should not have equalled sniffs of such a calibre. Certainly not from any human, and even more certainly not from somebody breaking into a house.

… The footfalls were heavy and quick. Armour perhaps? Whoever was on the other side of the wall had to weigh well over a hundred kilos. The floors were sounding out their displeasure of the pressure put upon them. If the intruder jumped, there was a good chance of them breaking. Could he use that?

The steps continued. Since Mara was in the middle of the room, she was the first to notice the identity of the intruder. Charlie had talked it over with her before, and she had agreed to be a distraction. It was not a permanent position, as he expected to attack the moment the intruder stepped-

"Charlie," Mara calmly began, her tone as even as the wind. "It's a bear."

What? Charlie had to look over at her, as the steps began to grow louder. And more rapid.

Then… then the head poked through the door frame. It was a bear. An honest-to-god bear had stepped inside the house. Its eyes were on Mara, her voice seeming to have caught its attention. Or, maybe it was the instinct showing that she was helpless. Or it could have been the blood on her shirt. Nobody could have been sure.

Charlie could only watch as it took two more steps inside the living room. It was big. Bigger than expected. Its fur was black, yet no hairs stopped him from seeing the powerful body that was at its disposal. A simple swipe would kill anybody unlucky enough to be struck. That only meant he needed to be quick.

With an audible click, he jumped on its back. However, that click was more than enough warning for the large creature, it was already halfway on its hind legs. By the time Charlie had gotten hold of its fur, stopping him from falling off, he got the pleasure of being crushed between the rough wall and a massive bag of flesh.

The pressure was unbearable. He felt like he was going to burst. Yet, he could not give up. The moment the creature loosened up, Charlie struck. With a pull, he got his hands around the bear’s neck. Through the help of a foot jamming him in place, he pushed to one side. He used all the force available, and-

Crack. That was the sound heard, as the bear fell to the ground, Charlie on top of it. He had twisted its head around, its mouth turned the wrong way. It looked towards him in its last moments.

Then the backlash came around, and Charlie began to vomit blood on its fur. He fell to his knees unable to stand. His body was crying out. His vision was going dark. His limbs shook. His veins felt like they were going to burst. His-

"Barricade the door, when you get it out of here," Mara said. "There might be more, now that we have something that lures them."

… Pain was only a challenge to strive for. She was right. The beast was dead, yet its flesh would only lure others to their location. Charlie had to move it.

"Promise you won't die, while I'm gone," Charlie requested, not able to think enough. His head was pounding. This was what he got from overuse.

"If that gets you away from more quickly," was the response. Looking over, he could see her beginning to write on the tablet again, as if nothing had happened.

… was he the crazy one? It just felt like that sometimes.