1848

She sat in the tree, clutching Oso with all her life, tears leaking out of her eyes. A few hours ago, Alta had learned of a rebellion led by her people, creating their own republic, and she would've been a lot happier if it didn't mean she had to leave Mexico. She tried to forget about it, but the hurt look on her padre's face had really made her feel guilty. Alta prayed, rubbing the wooden cross that hung around her neck,

Please, let this be the only war I ever go through...

1862

It simply wasn't fair to California. Having to watch as she sent man after man to their deaths while she sat at home. The Civil War, they called it.

There's not a thing civil about it, if you ask me.

Cali thought back to when Texas had come to speak with her peacefully about a month ago,

"Oh, come on Cali! Don't ya wanna join us? You can be your own republic again!"

Cali shook her head,

"I'm a free state, Tex. I'm fine right where I am."

She saw the pain in his eyes but she knew that he wasn't really hurt by her, just the fact that she wouldn't support his cause,

"Well, just think it over, will ya?"

She had only been a state for ten years but she couldn't help but feel guilty. If she had just listened and split into two states, Northern and Southern California, then maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

No, I can't do that to myself. This is not my fault.

NorCal was only a thought, despite claiming he was a state, and she couldn't blame herself for everything. This went back much further than anything she had done.

She looked in the mirror and picked up the scissors, examining the metal carefully before looking back up at the mirror. Her hands went to the braids that hung from her head and she tugged on one. She said to herself confidently,

"If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do this right."

Cali took a deep breath, raising the scissors and cutting the braid clean off. It fell to the floor with a quiet thud and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. In the mirror, she didn't look half bad. She toyed with the now short ends of her hair, declaring them even enough, and then raised the scissors to the other braid, cutting this one off more calmly.

After disposing of the hair, Cali found bandages in her pantry and removed her shirt. She had only recently gone through puberty, even though she was about 16, and now it was very obvious that she was a girl.

With a grunt, she wrapped the thick bandages around her torso, binding herself tightly. Once the bandages were in place and she put a shirt on, she looked at herself in the mirror again. Her clothes easily showed off her hips and that wouldn't do. She found a pair of Levi jeans that was a few sizes too big. Using a belt to keep them in place, she managed to get the jeans to conceal her feminine legs and waist.

"Well, I look manly enough."

She rubbed her chin and thought about the bearded men in the city. She grabbed a brown bandana and tied it around her head, covering her mouth, chin, and part of her petite nose. She barely even recognized herself in the mirror. The only things she left were her eyes, which she couldn't change, and her necklace, which she couldn't bring herself to get rid of,

"Hello, I am here to fight in the army."

She sounded like a man, deepening her voice, and impersonating the American accent was easy enough,

"My name is..."

She paused. America had renamed her Angel a decade or so ago and it was a unisex name,

"My name is Jones. Angel Jones."

She secured the straps of her holster, which held her two guns, and tightened the bandanna, cringing when she felt the bandages around her chest cut into her skin,

"Pues, no dia como hoy."

Joining the California Column was easy enough. They were welcome to every man who volunteered and soon Cali was marching east to where Texas had expanded his army in the New Mexico territory. She held her gun proudly and marched beneath the Union flag, holding her head high and her Bear flag higher. When she and the rest of the infantry reached New Mexico, she fired on Texas's men. It was a brutal battle but they managed to push them back. It wasn't without pain, however,

"You're hurt!"

Cali had been shot in the arm and a paramedic noticed. He took out his kit,

"Here, let me dress it for you. Take your shirt off, please."

Cali froze and then said in her deep voice,

"I-I can't."

"Sir, I need to clean this."

"No!"

The medic gave her a suspicious look but didn't object when she took the bandages from him, "

I'll do it."

He sighed dejectedly,

"Well, if you need anything, just let me know."

One day, while she was packing up her supplies, she was knocked unconscious by a Confederate soldier. Cali was taken hostage and when she awoke, she was face to face with Texas himself,

"Well, if it isn't one a Cali's boys."

He laughed, taking his gun out casually and spinning it on his finger. Cali refused to make eye contact, looking down at the floor, afraid he might recognize her. The bandanna was still on her face and she still had all her clothes, not her guns, however, so her identity was still secret. Her hands were tied behind her back to the chair she was sitting in and she struggled with the ropes,

"Don't bother."

Texas snorted,

"Those ropes would hold a grizzly."

That's ironic.

Cali didn't say a word, knowing Texas would see right through any fake accent. He was rather intelligent, after all, and knew a bluff when he saw one. Texas took a step forward and Cali tensed. He grabbed the front of her shirt and put his face close to hers,

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Look at me."

He shook her harshly but she squeezed her eyes shut. Texas raised a fist and swung, knocking her head sideways. She let out a yelp of pain but still didn't speak,

"What, are ya deaf? Are the yanks that desperate?"

He punched her again and blood trickled out of her nose, soaking the bandana. Texas tore the cloth off and laughed,

"Ya have a very girly face for a fella."

Texas punched her in the gut and her eyes flew open momentarily before snapping shut again,

"Now, tell me, what tricks do the yanks have for us, hm? Got any secrets ya'd like to tell?"

She snarled at him and he laughed,

"I'll take that as a no."

He punched her hard in the cheek, her head falling limply after. She was working on the bonds tying her hands back at the moment and had almost got the first knot undone. Texas grabbed her chin, holding her face level with his as he punched her hard in the gut,

"You're free to talk whenever you're done with all this."

She coughed up a small amount of blood and took shallow breaths and Texas snorted,

"Ya yanks are weak."

He kicked her the shin and she finally got the ropes undone. She sprung forward, kicking the chair back and punching Texas in the head. He fell backwards and she made a break for it but he grabbed her ankle,

"Come back here!"

He pulled her to the floor and she yelped, falling flat on her face. Texas pushed her over and sat on her ribs, crushing her, and he threw punch after punch at her face. With a crack, her nose snapped and she screamed with pain. Texas shouted at her but she didn't catch any of it. Then, suddenly he stopped,

"Wait."

He grabbed the necklace that hung around her neck, pulling her off the floor, and thumbed the red star,

"I know this necklace."

He looked at her face carefully, gasping when he recognized her baby blue eyes,

"Cali?"

Cali would've laughed but she could hardly breathe. She spat at him,

"Howdy, partner."

With a thud, he let go of the necklace and her head hit the floor. Texas got off of her, carefully not putting any more weight on her and she said,

"Where are you going?"

Texas fixed his hat, turning away from her,

"I don't hit girls."

Cali sat up,

"Come back here and fight me!"

She got to her feet and put up her fists,

"Come back here and fight me like a man!"

Texas snorted,

"Ya mean like the man ya pretend to be? Leave the fightin' to the guys, Cali. A woman has no place on the battlefield."

Cali screamed at him as he walked away,

"I could take you anyway of the week! You're just scared of me!"

Texas froze and slowly turned to her, his face dark,

"Listen, little lady,"

Cali snorted and crossed her arms but didn't say anything,

"I ain't about to hit a girl. You're nose is broken and I-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence because Cali had thrown a left hook. He grunted and Cali kicked her foot up, pinning him to the wall with the sole of her foot at his neck,

"I am so sick and tired of people underestimating me!"

Texas wheezed,

"Cali, your foot-"

She pressed harder, cutting him off,

"Shut up and listen to me! For once, could someone take me seriously? Is that too much to ask for?"

Texas grabbed her foot and twisted it, knocking her off balance and he caught her. Texas snarled,

"Now, you have no right to be here. I'm sendin' you on the first train back home."

Cali kicked and yelled but Texas had the upper hand. He carried her out of the tent and dumped her on the floor,

"You bastardo!"

"Cali, you have no place here. Just go home and leave the fighting to the men."

1946

She stepped on board the ship, shouldering her bag, and saluted her commander,

"Sir,"

He saluted her back and waved her over to the other women. Cali had joined WAVES since the Navy wouldn't accept her because she was a woman. WAVES, or Women Accepted for Volunteer Services, welcomed her with open arms. She had over one hundred years of sailing experience, it would be ridiculous to not let her fight. It was her job to protect her citizens, she knew that, and her diligence and skill caused her to quickly rise through the ranks.

Soon, she was allowed in the actual Navy. One day, on her ship, a soldier said to her,

"What are you doing on this ship, miss?"

Cali paused, her frown quickly changing to a sickly sweet smile,

"Commanding it."

She turned and walked back, the soldiers she passed saluting her, and she smirked smugly to herself. On the warship, she saw battle only a few times. America and DC had only let her join the army because she had begged them and because she assured them that she wouldn't be caught in any huge battles. There were few Japanese submarines and so most of her time was spent simply patrolling for other threats. There were rumors of airstrikes or a large fleet of Japanese ships making it's way to the US but Cali couldn't bring herself to believe them. It was hard enough knowing that her land, her people, were under attack and in constant danger, she didn't need to think about the chance of actually loosing anything more.

One night, all of the men were taking out photographs of their families, wives, daughters, sons, pets, even, but Cali was reluctant to take out her own personal photo. One of the soldiers laughed,

"Oh come on, we want to see the lucky man who gets to see..."

He looked her up and down, causing Cali to grimace,

"All of that."

Everyone laughed, Cali turning pink, and encouraged her to take out the little slip of paper. Cali sighed, reaching into her breast pocket, getting a few whoops from the troops. She rolled her eyes and produced a photo,

"There, happy? She's all I have."

Cali tossed the photo to the center of the table, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. The same soldier, his name was Nick, who made the comment before picked up the photo, snorting when he looked at it,

"You only have her? I suppose the Jap is a good friend, or something."

"Don't call her that. Her name is Monica."

Everyone at the table laughed,

"Geez, calm down, it's just a nickname."

"It's a slur."

Her withering glare made the laughter dissipate. The soldier cleared his throat,

"Well, Miss Jones, I'm sure Monica will be very happy to see you again once she gets out."

Cali hesitated, "What do you mean get out?"

nodded,

"They rounded up all the Japs- I mean, Japanese folk, and carted 'em off. It's for our safety, though. I would be thanking the prez, if I were you."

Cali clenched her fist under the table, gritting her teeth to keep back a biting comment,

"Of course."

The end of the war was suppose to bring joy and celebration, but Cali found herself spiraling down into a deep depression. Her girlfriend, the only person she had ever truly loved, was gone. When she had gotten home to their penthouse in San Francisco, it was cold and empty. There was a note lying on the counter in veru rushed handwriting. Cali picked it up and read it slowly,

Angel,

I love you, but I must go. I hope you return to see this letter, I love you, I love you, I've loved you since the day I met you, and I may not return to you. But do not cry, I love you and you must be strong. Please, take care of yourself, I love you.

愛しています,

Monica

Cali dropped to her knees, clutching the letter in her hand as she felt her heart shatter. She whimpered,

"Monica, no-"

Tears filled her eyes and she fell to the side.

Damn war, damn president, damn world, damn death, damn everything...

She closed her eyes, not wanting to feel, but there were shooting pains in her chest and she was breaking the skin on her hand from gripping the paper so hard. The tears spilled over and she began to sob.

For the first time in her life, she wished she could die.

*Eminem's Without Me plays* Guess who's back, back again. Say he's back, tell a friend. It's good to be back and posting guys! I'm so thankful to all the people who stayed with me and put up with my crap and in thanks I give you angst galore. I felt so sad writing this and it's not even the full story. There will be a continuation of the Monica story, btw, so look out for that and get your tissue boxes ready. Now, I'm thinking of changing it to an update every week or one simply every three days so let me know what's cool with you guys. Let's see, Eminem, tissues, oh! Extra special thanks to SilentScreaming1944 for her wonderful drawings! Please read and review and I'll see you next time!