A guest prompt: A version where Rita does walk away from the helicopter like Cage wanted her to. What happens?

I just wanted to thank everyone for the emails I've been getting about follows/favourites/reviews for my EoT fics in particular. I'm assuming this is because the DVD/Bluray just got released and there are more people watching this awesome movie. Of course, I own it.

Much of the dialogue at the start of the story is paraphrased and taken directly from EoT. I don't own anything.

Just a warning. If you haven't seen the movie then this story won't make much sense. It starts after they get off the beach and have already killed the Mimic that was hiding in the trailer attached to their vehicle.

The van they'd found always ran out of gas. But Cage found that the moments they shared on the ride were both enlightening and painful. Rita often refused to speak to him at first. And the few details he painstakingly pulled from her were collected reverently over several such car rides. He found telling her a complete falsehood, making up stories another Rita had told him, got her to open up more. Even if it was to correct any mistakes or call him out on telling her complete the story of her visit to Lyon, or the reveal of her middle name as Peyton. Inevitably she always shut him down.

"Cage, I do not need to get to know you. And if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't want to get to know me either. It's the only way you'll make it out of this thing."

On this particular reset, Cage chose to leave it at that, stung that she had no interest in him beyond what he could do for her. It was getting harder and harder to remind himself that when this was all over, Rita would walk away without a backwards glance.

After the van finally gave up, they were forced to walk. They'd found a group of buildings, once someone's home with a helicopter sitting conveniently in the back. A helicopter that Cage didn't seem too keen on trying to fly. His suggestion was to siphon the gas, but Rita knew that this was their greatest chance of reaching the Omega. Still Cage protested against her suggestion, making a flippant remark in response to her query of his fear of heights.

"I'm afraid of crashing, and not at all ashamed to admit it."

"You'll be fine Cage. You'll learn."

He wanted to say something else, make another protest, but she winced, her breath hissing out of her mouth in a pained gasp.

"What is it? Let me see."

Rita almost shrugged him away, but she stilled long enough for him to pull back her sweater and see the damage that the Mimic in the trailer had inflicted. She didn't protest as he led her to find something to clean the wound.

As he cleaned her gash, really nothing more than a scrape, though it hurt like a bitch, Rita shifted impatiently.

"We have to find the keys to the helicopter."

Cage seemed hell-bent on ignoring her advice.

"I'm sure we'll find them. Heli's full of fuel, though. I found a hose..." He pointed out, his voice casual. But she could feel the tension in his hands, even as they gently applied the makeshift bandage to her wound. So gently she felt only mild discomfort.

"We're flying Cage." She was ready to move, to find the Omega and finally end this entire thing. She wanted the war to be over. She wanted many things. Hendricks and her parents alive, one of many. But she could never have that. What she could have was revenge, maybe find some semblance of peace. She'd earned that much for herself.

"It's getting dark soon. We might be better off going to the farmhouse." Cage suggested, his voice level but insistent. He really didn't want to get in that Heli.

She smirked. "And curl up by the fire and open a bottle of wine?" Was he really trying to seduce her, or was his fear of flying really that intense? "Ten minutes and then I'm killing you." She chided. She was sore and tired and she figured starting fresh would be better. They now had a way to the Omega at least. What was one more reset?

Cage rummaged around in the shack that might have once been someone's work shed. She almost smiled when he'd pulled out coffee and managed to heat it.

"I can't believe you found coffee." She sighed as she went to grab it from his hand. But then he pulled back, a sudden chagrined awareness crossing his face.

"Three sugars, right?" He dumped them in quickly and offered her the cup, now prepared to her taste.

And then she knew why he was so afraid of the Heli. They'd been here before.

"How many times have we been here?" Cage avoided her gaze. "How many times? Where are the keys?" She demanded, a feeling of betrayal coursing through her as he pulled them out of his pocket. "You can fly it, can't you?"

Cage nodded his head jerkily, his nervous energy turning into desperation before her eyes. "You start that engine, you die." He gestured around them bleakly. "This is as far as you go. This is as far as you ever make it." His eyes pleaded with her. "At the farmhouse, there's a cellar, food. Just wait until I get back. You'll be safe."

"You lied to me." It wasn't exactly truth but it was close enough. He'd hidden so much already, all in some pathetic attempt to keep her here. She strode to the helicopter in quick strides, hopping into the seat as Cage followed her.

"Get your weapon, and get in the helicopter." She demanded.

"You die here!" he insisted with thinly veiled despair. "Right here! I can't save you no matter what I do. If I go on to kill the Omega, you're dead, forever."

She considered for a moment the desperation in his eyes and felt the briefest moment of regret. How had she come to mean so much to this man that she barely knew? Still she needed to hear it confirmed, even if the words would damn them both.

"Why does it matter what happens to me?"

Cage seemed to deflate, his shoulders drooping in resignation. But his eyes, dark with pain, remained on hers. "I wish I didn't know you, but I do." And that one statement said so much more than it should.

It was time to make her decision. Every part of her screamed to start the engine of the helicopter, to force his hand. She wondered why she was still sitting there, staring at Cage as his eyes began to light with what could only be hope. And it was cruel of her, cruel to give him even a moment's hope when he'd already told her how it had to end. But she would have died a thousand more deaths for even one more night with her loved ones. She could give him that at least. Even if what he felt for her was only obsession.

"Okay." She relented.

"You'll wait here?" He smiled but she held a hand up to stall his gratitude.

"I never said that." Rita snorted. "I'm coming with you, and we're flying this helicopter out of here. But we just need to think of some way to kill that Omega without either of us dying."

His face fell once again, but she held up a hand to stall any objections. "And, yes, I'm tired. One night in the farmhouse won't kill me." Wrong choice of words apparently as Cage winced again. Maybe it would, maybe it was the wrong choice to make but she'd made up her mind.

"Thank you." Cage whispered, his frantic desperation turning to relief. He seemed rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her face.

There was an awkward silence between them, almost as if Cage had no idea what to do now that she'd acquiesced.

"Shouldn't we move to the farmhouse?" She inquired idly, her entire demeanor changing from anger to numb acceptance. She would not be killing the Omega. Not today, maybe not ever.

He started, his eyes widening. "Yes! Yes, we should." He looked around them, his steps faltering as he seemed uncertain how to proceed. His hands moved idly, his fingers clenching into fists as he watched her step down from her seat.

For a moment, their eyes met and held. Until she gestured towards the house with impatience. "Well, you're the one who knows what's going to happen next. Lead the way."

"I don't." he admitted with a helpless shrug. "I don't know what's going to happen. You've never said yes before."

Rita felt her stomach clench as her nerves reacted to his statement. This would be the first time they were alone, without a destination in mind, without the focus of Mimics in their paths. She shouldn't have said yes, but she felt it was too late to back out now. Her anger had faded, and her emotions were too much of a jumble to understand what exactly she was feeling now.

Cage made the decision to search the house a little further, trying to find something that would at least make the cold cellar floor less uncomfortable. She doubted either of them would be getting much, if any, sleep tonight.

Her shoulder ached so she made no protest to his suggestion to wait for him in the cellar. She sat on a rickety chair and looked around the room, not really taking in anything as she considered what to do next. Should she just agree to his plan to continue on without her? Wait for him to return, if he ever did. Maybe he'd be dead and she would be left waiting in vain, only to have the day reset. She decided then that she couldn't wait. She'd rather be with him if he died, or die by his side if that was what was going to happen. She was a soldier. She'd been one of the first volunteers, before the UDF had Cage willfully recruiting people through the media. And her fight against the Omega had become personal to her.

So now she had to consider how to kill the Mimic that was so close to the helicopter without alerting the other ones waiting in the field. It seemed an impossible task, and she wondered again why she was doing this. Giving Cage false hope instead of just forcing another reset. She picked up the gun she held close at every moment, her eyes tracing it's design. She considered for the briefest moments, simply shooting him when he returned. But it felt like a cowardly thing to do. And a betrayal that he might not get over. How would her actions affect the next reset? She hoped that this would be the last, that even if both of them died the next day, that they would take the bloody Omega with them. It seemed a faint hope now.

Cage's arrival interrupted her thoughts. He carried an armful of old bedding with him, which he unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Somehow, in one hand he carried the coffee she'd abandoned in the shed. He offered it to her with hesitance. Rita's fingers brushed his as she accepted it gratefully. It had gone cold in the short time between their argument and Cage scrounging for usable blankets, but it hadn't been that warm to start off with. She sipped the coffee and watched as Cage spread the blankets out in the corner. He settled himself heavily, his back against the cold cement walls. He noticed her watching him and offered a small smile.

"It's not the Ritz." he commented.

"No, it's not. But I've never been to the Ritz. Have you?"

He nodded absently. "Seems like another life now."

"A better one." she observed.

"I wouldn't say that." Cage smiled. "I would never have asked for this, but I'm here. And I try not to think back on the man I was. The Ritz was beautiful once, but I never really cared for it. I never really appreciated the things I had before the Mimics' appearance stole them all away. I guess I didn't really deserve them."

"And now you do?" Rita questioned with a confused smile.

"I would at least appreciate them now. And I've never really cared about the people I had in my life," he said pointedly. Rita raised an eyebrow as if to say 'oh, really?' Cage hurried to clarify. "My parents are small town people. They could care less about the world outside Cranberry, New Jersey, where I'm from. I always wanted more. And I never visited them enough, always feeling as if it was a nuisance to visit parents I'd always seen as small-minded. Seems like I was the small minded one." He mused. "I'd give anything to see them again. To step through the doors of their small house, a place I'd once loathed. So, I think that I might deserve a bit of indulgence now, more than I ever did before the war."

Rita simply nodded in agreement. She could pass no judgment on the man Cage had been before. She had an idea of who he'd been, but the entire experience with resets had clearly changed him for the better. Maybe their life was hell, but he'd become a better man through it.

"And I got to meet the Angel of Verdun, so that's a bonus." He smirked playfully at her eye-roll.

"I hate that name," she confided.

"Why? You deserve it."

"No, I don't," Rita insisted. "Look at the person you were before versus who you are now. You clearly fight better, and you've killed almost as many Mimics as I did that last day. So if you lose the ability to reset, and they tally the amount of Mimics you've killed, do you suddenly deserve a moniker? What will they call you I wonder? A saint or savior or some other nonsense? We do what we do, are as good as we are because of the resets."

Cage held his hands up in surrender at her fierce tone. "Whatever they call you, whatever label they give you, I hope that I can at least call you friend."

She wanted to laugh at the absurdly sentimental words but she could see from his expression he was serious. His eyes held a hint of vulnerability. Friends. It was just a word, but she knew very few people she would ever call a friend. She might call Dr. Carter a friend. He was the only person who'd ever believed her before Cage. To her, they'd only known each other less than two days, was that really enough time to consider him as more than an acquaintance? He'd saved her life countless times today, amused her with his wild speculations of her past, and some part of her trusted him implicitly.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod. "We're friends."

Cage's smile was lopsided but warm and genuine, and for a moment she wondered what his lips tasted like. She shoved the thought away with horror, wondering if she'd gone insane since waking up yesterday morning. He was attractive, and determined, she wouldn't deny that. But he was still a practical stranger in so many ways.

"So we don't have a fire, but this is a cellar after all." Cage got up and walked to the wine rack that held dozens of unopened bottles. He pulled a few out, reading the labels and placing them back until he'd found one he liked.

"And how are we going to open that?" Rita shook her head and laughed as he pulled a corkscrew from his pocket, waving it at her triumphantly.

"I found this upstairs."

"There just happened to be a random corkscrew lying on one of the beds you pilfered those blankets from?"

Cage shrugged. "In a drawer."

Rita's expression sobered. "I don't think getting plastered the night before we go after the Omega is the smartest idea."

"Who says we need to get drunk? One drink won't hurt." Cage insisted.

"But why drink wine at all?" Rita asked with exasperation, raising her coffee mug as evidence.

"Let me have one drink with a friend before I die."

So Cage thought they were going to die. So did she, and if that wasn't a reason to have a drink she wasn't sure what was. She relented and held out a hand for the bottle, placing her coffee mug on the floor.

"Did you at least find some glasses to drink from?"

Cage grinned and produced two wine glasses, both with small visible smudges. But dirt wasn't going to kill her, a Mimic or the Omega was. She poured their drinks and set the bottle to the side, offering Cage a glass. He took it from her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers for just a moment. It was enough that she felt a twinge of arousal at his proximity. Enough that when he settled back on the blankets she followed. He held her glass as she collapsed beside him, her right side flush against his left as she accepted her glass back and started to sip her wine. They hadn't eaten since that morning, and she didn't want to overdo it.

"Do I always call you Cage?"

"Yes." He confirmed. "You could call me Bill, if you wanted."

"Bill." she tried the name out but he didn't look like a Bill. "Short for William, I presume?"

"Yeah."

"William it is." She took another slow sip of her drink. "So William, how many times have you been through a reset? If you don't mind my asking."

"Feels like thousands, but I'm sure it's barely a hundred."

"I know what you mean." Rita agreed. "But even that is too many. I've seen people die more times than I can remember."

"And Hendricks was one of them." It wasn't a question but Rita bristled at it. She'd told him not to talk of him. She wondered how Cage had ever found out about the man.

"He was." She replied shortly. And Cage seemed to let it go, taking a gulp of his wine. "I wonder how many times you've seen me die." She poked at him, still angry that he'd dared to bring up such a sore point for her. And she knew her death affected him. It was why they were here after all. Here and not him on his way to the Omega and her lying dead at the side of the helicopter outside.

"Too many times." Cage spoke softly, his eyes closing as he seemed to remember one or more of those times. The easiness between them was broken, as Cage was lost to darker thoughts. And Rita regretted the comment instantly.

"Hey." she nudged his shoulder with her own and his eyes opened, staring past her at some point on the cellar wall. "William?" His gaze focused on her, and she could see him visibly shutting those memories away. "I'm sorry William. It was a stupid thing to say."

"I deserved it." He paused. "It was Dr. Carter who told me, not you. I shouldn't have said anything about him. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she mumbled. It really wasn't. Hendricks was a man she'd fallen for during her resets. A man that she could never get to remember her. He'd died too many times to count, until the point where she went out of her way to save him, and when that didn't work, to avoid him. He'd died at Verdun, that last time, like every time before it. She didn't need to imagine what Cage felt at her death, she knew.

They fell into a silence that lasted several minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable, both lost in their own thoughts, but soon even the single glass of wine she had was making her drowsy, her head resting unconsciously on Cage's shoulder.

"I'll take the first watch," offered Cage quietly. Rita could only nod as she started drifting into sleep. Before she fell entirely, she felt Cage drape a blanket over both of them. It was musty but warm. She smiled, unable to voice her thanks as she lost consciousness.

She awoke to the sound of Cage's breathing. For a moment she was confused, her body lying completely flat on a hard surface despite the blankets. She tried to make sense of the situation, only realizing where she was when she heard the steady pounding of Cage's heart beneath her head. Somehow their positions had shifted drastically. Both of them were lying on the blankets rather than sitting against the wall. Rita's head was resting on Cage's chest, one arm pinned beneath her, the other spread over his stomach, her fist gently gripping his shirt. She shifted, looking up towards his face. One of his arms was pillowed beneath his head, the other one wrapped around her back, holding her to his side. It was intimate, one of her legs wrapped around his, the blanket he'd covered them with kicked to the bottom of their makeshift bed. She felt her face burning as she started to pull away. For a brief second Cage's arm held her to him, almost refusing to let her go before he rolled away from her.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Her voice was hoarse from the dusty cellar.

"I wasn't tired."

"You should still sleep." She refused to comment on how she'd woken up. He hadn't been touching her inappropriately, and it seemed she'd been the one to cuddle up to him.

"I should," Cage agreed. "You'll be okay to stay awake? We should only be a couple hours from sunrise.

"Yeah, I'll be okay William."

He'd put some distance between them, but she suddenly felt like never letting go. The dawn would ultimately mean their deaths, she was sure of it. Her own death at the least. So she locked up the voice that told her what she was doing was cruel, that it would only hurt him in the end. She shifted until her head was once again pillowed on his chest, her arm lying across his stomach and her hand flat against his ribs.

Cage tensed. "What are you doing, Rita?"

"I'm cold." she stated. From the tension in his body she half-expected him to pull away and grab the blankets to put over her. But he didn't. Instead he remained silent, his body slowly relaxing until she heard his breathing slow, his chest expanding under her head with every breath. She watched his face as his jaw slackened and his lips parted.

She didn't know exactly why she did it. She couldn't explain the rush of tenderness she felt watching his features relax as he fell deeper into sleep. She carefully slid upwards, studying him for any sign he was waking up. She held her face above his, gathering her courage before she dropped her lips to his. It was meant to be quick, but her lips lingered, parting so her tongue could dart out a taste him. It was a one-sided kiss and not completely satisfying so she pulled away. His head moved as if to follow hers and she stared at him with sudden fear. Had he woken up? After a few perilous seconds it seemed he'd only been adjusting his position, his face turning towards her and settling. She moved back to her original position, silently scolding herself for taking advantage of a sleeping man, and Cage of all people. Cage who looked at her with tenderness. She would break his heart, she was sure of it.

Before she settled her head back on his chest she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. It looked like Cage smiled. She jerked her head up but his mouth was still parted, his breaths still even, his heartbeat steady. She convinced herself she'd only imagined it.

The next morning, they'd found more coffee and drank it silently side by side. Cage had smiled at her brightly when wishing her a good morning, and Rita wondered if he knew what she'd done. But he didn't say anything, soon starting a conversation about how to get both of them in that helicopter and off the ground without dying.

They'd talked out a plan, and soon both were on their way, Cage being the first out the door to assess the danger. If he was forced to reset, then they would try again. Rita hoped they wouldn't be forced to try again. Even if she didn't remember it, the previous night was unsettling, her emotions tangled and her nerves strung tight with every smile Cage aimed in her direction. He seemed to be in a jovial mood and blamed it on her staying alive for the first time at the farmhouse. She decided to believe him.

Cage put down the Mimic easily and quietly with an ax he'd found on an earlier reset, the alien apparently not expecting an attack. Maybe the extra day had made the difference. Rita waited impatiently at the helicopter, only starting the engine when Cage was racing towards her. She was already taking off when he swung himself into the seat beside her, the noise from the rotating choppers drowned out by the rampaging Mimics heading towards them. But they were already off the ground by the time the Mimics reached them, too far in the air and on their way to kill the Omega.

The flight remained pleasant, if silent. Cage gestured towards certain points of the landscape, Rita nodding to confirm she'd seen what he was pointing out. Cage directed her when she didn't remember which direction to go to. Their hands hung loose between their seats, fingers brushing seemingly by accident. And yet neither of them moved away, even if Rita was risking life and limb by not having both hands on the control column of the helicopter.

It was only when they were within sight of the dam that the small smile that Cage had sported nearly the entire flight faded. Rita's own relaxed expression tightened as she was reminded that they'd reached the end of their journey, probably permanently.

They entered the dam armed with flares, the battle rifle Cage took from his jacket, his Colt and Rita's SIG-Sauer. It was too quiet for either of their liking and they used mostly gestures to communicate with each other. Rita felt adrenaline pumping through her system as they approached the rim of the pit that Cage had seen the Omega in. Cage shot her a glance, his eyes widened in anticipation as they looked into the pit...and found nothing.

They looked at each other in confusion, interrupted by a sudden screech as a Mimic sprang over the edge and collided with them. They flew apart in different directions, Rita hitting the wall hard, and Cage falling backwards, the Mimic springing at him and striking quickly before moving away. Cage was thrown again, twisting in the air before landing heavily on the ground. Rita was on her feet in moments, wincing at the sharp pain in her ankle. It was fractured at the very least. She limped to Cage's side as he got to his feet slowly. They faced the Mimic together, Cage pushing Rita behind him as he stepped forward.

"Finish it!" he shouted.

"Cage, no!" Rita reached for his shoulder, trying to pull him back but he shrugged her off.

"It's over, Rita. The Omega isn't here."

They were only distracted for seconds, but it was enough that they didn't hear the Alpha land behind them. It was enough that Rita was behind him.

Cage turned towards her as the Alpha struck. It was a quick slash, but with enough force that Rita was thrown forwards into his arms. The noise she made was somewhere between a gasp and a cry. Another quick slash and he felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down briefly to see a large slash in his vest, his skin bared and torn open. He pressed his hand instinctively to his side, his fingers pulling away dripping red. Cage lifted the Colt he had shoved in the waistband of his pants and got off four shots in quick succession, the Alpha forced back. He didn't want to kill the Alpha, simply keep it away long enough for him to assess Rita's injuries. He knew he should reset, but he needed to see Rita. And he needed to know one thing before she forgot.

Cage fell to his knees, Rita cradled in his arms.

"Not again." He murmured. "Not this time."

Rita spoke through clenched teeth. "My fault." She lifted her hand and Cage took it, holding it between both of his. Blood pooled around them, both of their blood mixing on the concrete floor. Cage placed her hand down gently, beginning to feel lightheaded from blood loss. But he needed to know.

"Why did you kiss me?" He asked urgently. "Rita!"

For a moment Rita simply stared at him. She opened her mouth, her voice shaky as she forced the words out. "My middle name...is Rose."

With an anguished cry, Cage lifted his Colt and placed it to his head, pulling the trigger before either Mimic could react.

He woke up gasping, Rita's lifeless eyes burned into his memory.

Tra la la laah...I'm just here, wondering what you thought. In particular, I'd like to hear from the guest who prompted this...

Thanks for reading!