EDIT, FEBRUARY 2013: If you're a new reader, please read this little note first.

Before you trudge through my first few chapters, take into consideration that when originally published, this story was only supposed to consist of a single chapter (which is mediocre at best.) And then after some unexpected popularity, I decided to continue it with no plan whatsoever.

Furthermore, I would also like to beg you to resist judging the rest of the story based off of this chapter, or the few after this. My writing skills have increased exponentially since I first started this story, and though they are still not the best, I promise they're better than what you will witness in the chapter below. As the chapters go on, there is a slow but noticeable change in quality with each post.

Once this story is complete, I will be editing it at insane levels, not to change the story, but to simply make it better. But for now, I have to power on towards the end before I can do any of that.

Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter One: Alive

This day had instantly gone from bad-to so much worse.

All I wanted to do was go home, take a shower, eat, and then sleep off the roughest day of my COG career yet. Was that too normal to ask for?

Considering the crazy guys chasing me, it probably was.

They were COG soldiers too. But they were all about a year older than me, taller than me, they outnumbered me, and they were drunk. Alcohol and reckless new soldiers did not mix. I was in that bar for ten minutes tops, wanting to grab a quick drink before I started my walk home. I hadn't even been able to order yet when one of the drunken rookies came over and tried to get a quick feel.

There was a line of shot glass to my left, lined up on the bar. They were all filled with something strong, and before I could get a hold of my anger, the contents of one of them was thrown back into the eyes of the asshole behind me. Of course, this set him off. Then his drunk friends got pissed because I was pissed, and now to avoid an all-out brawl in the middle of the street, I was running. Hopefully, the four men behind me would eventually sober up and back off, because there was no way I'd be able to go home without letting them know where I lived.

I wanted to tell myself that I could take them. Considering their intoxication, there was a slight chance I could. But there was no way I was risking my rank, health or honor trying to fight off these wasted bastards in front of a bunch of Stranded.

Hence my hasty escape that was still in progress.

"Get back here, you bitch!" That was the guy who got the alcohol to the eyes. He sounded furious. The pounding sound of four angry, sprinting men in boots hurried after me, making it impossible to slow. Did being drunk make men faster or something? What the hell?

We were streaking through complicated alleys of the inner city. I'd chosen this way in hopes I'd be able to lose the assholes, but so far it wasn't working.

We reached a small street that ran behind a couple of old apartment buildings, giving me a chance to reach full speed without having to worry about jumping over crap. The four guys trailed close behind, maybe fifty yards away.

Making a split decision, I suddenly took a sharp right turn, almost busting my ass in the process. I was now running down another alley that led out into the sidewalk and the main street.

When I'd almost reached the end of the alley without hearing my trackers behind me, I decided to throw a hopeful glance over my shoulder. To my delight, they were nowhere to be found. This was finally my chance to-

SMACK!

The remaining air in my lungs was violently forced out of me as I ran straight into a huge ass man-three times the size of anyone pursuing me now.

I immediately crumpled to the concrete, but the guy I'd almost tackled didn't even budge. "Son of a bitch!" I wheezed out, rolling over onto my hands and knees and gasping for air. "I'm so sorry! I didn't even see you!"

The man towering over me let out a growl, low and rough. "Damn girl, what the hell are you running from?" He asked, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet.

I shook my head, a little disoriented and still out of breath. "Just…some drunk…assholes…no big deal." I braced myself against my knees and focused on breathing.

"Drunk assholes?" The guy lifted an eyebrow. "You don't look like a girl that likes getting into trouble." What he meant to say was that I didn't look like a stripper, I didn't look homeless, I wasn't wasted off my ass, I wasn't strung out, and I didn't smell like cigarettes.

"Yeah, well, you'd be surprised," I mumbled as the said assholes came screaming and shouting down the alley I'd just emerged from.

Big, gruff guy turned towards the drunkards and a scowl spread across his lips. "Let me guess," he said. "Drunk rooks lookin' for trouble?"

My eyes widened slightly as I nodded. "Spot on. Good guess." But now that I finally got a good glance at him, this guy was obviously a COG soldier himself. How did I not realize it when I first rammed into him? He was huge! And from the looks of it, it was all muscle from head to toe. He was dressed in boots, cargo pants and a t-shirt. Then to top off the COG soldier look, he wore a black bandana, and his face was decorated with battle scars.

He turned his eyes down to me, giving me a suspicious look. "And you?"

I moved to look at the angry men who had slowed to a jog from the sight of the man next to me. "Sober rook, running from trouble." That answer seemed to satisfy him because he then sighed, and side-stepped to where he stood between me and my followers.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at him, feeling like a child as he moved me out of the way.

The man ignored me completely. "What the hell do you guys want?" he shouted at the angry mob, his voice rough and full of authority that was impossible to stand against.

Their leader was obviously still buzzed because he decided that this was a good time to be arrogant. "And who the fuck's asking?"

The man's blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and I the muscles in his neck tensed. "Marcus Fenix. But I suggest you call me Sergeant Fenix unless you want a boot up your ass, rooky."

There was a moment as those words sunk in with everyone present. The first thought that popped into my mind was "Oh shit." The first thoughts of the other guys were very similar.

"Um, I…uh," The leader of the angry pack was finally trying to put together a sober thought for the first time that night. I did my best to not flat out laugh at how pale his face was, or how bad his knees were shaking.

"Just a misunderstanding!" A guy in the back piped up. The last two nodded their heads vigorously.

"A misunderstanding, huh?" Marcus said, crossing his arms. "Then I assume you fuckwads will be able to pick up what honor you have left and leave this situation behind you?" Only a man with a death wish would oppose Marcus Fenix at this point. I didn't know him personally, but I'd heard the stories, and I knew his reputation. This was certainly a man you didn't mess with.

The four men all nodded again, their eyes low in fear and shame. Then without another word, they turned and stomped off with their tails tucked between their legs. Unable to help myself, I gave a small smile of satisfaction to my help.

"Thank you, Sergeant Fenix," I said, nodding my head once at him.

He snorted. "I didn't say you had to call me that." Then his eyes started scanning my face in an odd, calculating way. Like he had questions, or was trying to remember something. I stood still, watching and waiting as he examined me. What the heck was he thinking about? I could almost feel his gaze on my face.

"What's your name, rook?" He asked, still observing.

"Santiago," I told him, that tiny bit of pride creeping into my voice. "Melanie Santiago." Something in Marcus's mind must have clicked, because his eyes suddenly froze. It was eerie, the way he was staring at me. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable.

"Um…" My eyes shifted to the ground nervously. "I don't mean any disrespect, but…what?"

Marcus continued staring at me for a long moment before speaking. "What are your parent's names?" he asked in a serious tone.

That one struck a soft spot, but I did my best to hide it. "I don't know my father's name," I began, to Marcus's disappointment. "But…I do know that my mother's name was Maria."

I could have slapped him and gotten the same reaction he had now. "Hooooly shit." He said, an undertone of panic in his voice. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."

I gave him a crazed look. "What?" I demanded again, much louder this time. "What the hell are you getting at?" I took a step away from him, trying to judge his behavior or suddenly develop mind-reading powers. Then I asked the first thing that popped into my mind. "Did you know my mother or something?"

Marcus put his hands on his hips and let out a low whistle. He looked at me, the ground, me, then the ground again.

"I knew your mother," he told me, and then it was my turned to flip shit. But before I could get my first question out of my mouth, he held up a hand to stop me. Then he paused, and said "I know your father."

Wait…he knew my mother…and knows my father?

…my father was alive?

I straightened up and looked him dead in the eye, making sure he was telling the truth. Marcus stood perfectly still with his hands at his sides, and his eyes cool and calm. He wasn't lying. There was no way. Would there even be a purpose for him to lie? Could he gain something from it? Maybe I was just in major denial and making up shit with my mind.

After staring him down for a good thirty seconds, I decided that by the looks of it…he was telling the truth.

I took a long, deep breath.

Initiate mental melt down in three…two…one…

"WHAT?"

"But how is this possible? We've been living in the same city for what? Three years now? And we're both with the COG? How have we not crossed paths or heard of each other yet?"

Marcus and I were walking down the street at a quick, steady pace. Almost jogging, actually. But Marcus had informed me that not only did he know my father (who was alive, by the way), but he lived with my father. He didn't even ask if I wanted to stop by, I just immediately followed.

"I don't know, kid," Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders. "You guys don't really have the best of luck."

"I've noticed…" I muttered, smirking. Then I shook my head, still in disbelief. "But wait, how can you be sure? How do know this isn't some sort of mix up?" I was suddenly worried, anxious that all of my sudden hope may turn out to be for nothing.

Marcus gave me a long look before answering. "You look a lot like the Maria I knew, kid. Not to mention you've got Dom's nose." He smirked, and light blush worked its way up the back of my neck.

"Dom?" I said, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Marcus nodded. "Dominic Santiago. That's your father's name."

Finally. I finally had a name to add to the face in my mind. Just because I didn't know what he looked like doesn't mean that I haven't spent hours upon hours trying to picture him. And it wouldn't be long until I would see the face of my actual father. Until I'd actually meet my father!

"Oh my God…" I whispered, suddenly feeling the impact of the situation. "Marcus Fenix is taking me to meet my actual father."

Marcus snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, I'm a bit shocked myself. But I've been through a lot of crazy shit, so I'm used to it."

I nodded, but really I was too caught up in my own thoughts to register what he said. "Oh my God, what if he doesn't like me? What if…what if he doesn't want to see me? That would explain why he hasn't been looking for me, wouldn't it?" The tone in my voice was reaching hysteria.

"Whoa, kid, slow your roll." Marcus stuffed his hands in his pockets and slowed his walking pace. "Just trust me, okay? He wants to see you. Really. Now I can't tell you how he's gonna react, but then again you never know with situations like this." How the hell was he able to stay so calm? I envied him.

Taking a couple deep breaths, I did my best to just let everything in. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

Marcus stopped walking, and so did I. For a moment, he just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking at me, waiting. "What?" I asked, and he shifted his eyes from me, to a set of apartment stairs, then to me again.

I felt my eyes grow huge. "Is this it?" Marcus nodded slowly, smirking at my reaction. I gave the building a quick glance up and down, and then turned my eyes to the sidewalk. "Um…okay. Okay. So we, uh…which floor is it?"

"Fifth." He stated simply.

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yep, just a little."

"Alrighty then!" I said, letting out a huge breath. "Sergeant Fenix, could you please show me the way?"

The walk up those five flights of stairs was the longest walk of my life. The higher we got, the quicker my breaths came. And it most certainly wasn't because I was out of shape.

"Oh my God," I kept saying, over and over. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

We reached the door to their apartment, and my heart threatened to leap through my throat. Marcus gripped the door handle and gave me a final glance. "Ready kid?" he asked. I nodded, feeling numb. Then, Marcus opened the door and stepped inside.

The living room was small and cozy. There was a make-shift coffee table made with an old, wooden door and four stacks of cement blocks. Somewhere way in the back of my crazy, deluded mind, I thought it was kind of cute. Next to the table was an old, beige colored couch, and sprawled out on it was another huge guy, easily more than six feet tall. He was dressed pretty similar to Marcus, but his hair was blond under a set of high-tech looking goggles. The guy was bigger than the couch itself, his arms and legs hanging over its edges.

His head lifted up slightly when we walked through the door. He didn't react to Marcus, but when he saw me he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hey Fenix, did you know there's a chick following you around?" Something about the tone in his voice and Marcus's reaction made me think that he was always that sarcastic.

Marcus gave an annoyed huff and closed the door behind us. "I see you've had a productive day," he said, walking over to the couch. "Where the hell's Dom?"

The guy snorted and went back to his nap that we'd obviously interrupted. "Weird, I always thought you had a thing for blonds."

Marcus growled in warning, clearly not in the mood. "Baird…"

"'Cause, you know, Anya's got that blond thing goin-"

"BAIRD!"

"Alright, geez!" The blond put his hands up in surrender. "Dom's in the kitchen making Cole clean. Why, you need him?"

Marcus scowled down at the man, looking like he may punch him. But I don't think there was a real threat because Baird, the man on the couch, didn't look nervous at all.

Just then, there was a call from the kitchen. "Marcus, that you? Imma kill these guys, I hope you know that!" I heard boots stomping around, and then a man emerged from the kitchen. He was tall and built like the others, maybe even a little bigger, and black.

"Man, Santiago's killin' me Marcus! You see him trying to make me do dishes?" He shook his head and walked over to Baird, slapping him on the leg. "Move over, The Cole Train needs a break!" Grumbling, Baird sat up and moved to one side of the couch.

Before he sat down though, Cole's eyes settled on me. "Oh wait, hold on now baby!" He walked around the couch and over to Marcus and I, towering above me by more than a foot. "Now who is this fine, young lady?" He asked, gesturing towards me. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your manners, Fenix!"

Marcus narrowed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Dom!" He shouted, ignoring Cole's question. "Could you come here for second?" Cole dramatically feigned being offended, which would have made me laugh if I didn't feel like I was going to throw up on the carpet.

Another man came walking out of the kitchen, drying his hands with a dish towel. "Alright, alright," he said, tossing the towel at Cole's face. "What do you need?"

The room literally started spinning before my eyes. My stomach felt like it was floating. I may have had some sort of crazy, out of body experience.

It was him. Oh sweet lord, it was him.

Maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn something about the atmosphere in the room sort of snapped. Cole and Baird were exchanging a confused look, Baird's slightly more mischievous. Marcus was giving Dom a look that seemed like he was waiting for him to pass out or say something, and Dom was giving me a look. It was like the look that Marcus had given me on the street; his eyes were scanning each and every feature while he was thinking, judging, remembering.

I was starting to really wonder just how much I looked like my mother.

And then the pain flashed in my father's eyes, making me regret ever coming here in the first place. If what Marcus had said about my looks was true, then who knew what memory my father was recalling now? Were my looks obvious enough to where he just knew, or did I need to go shake his damn hand and shout out my last name like at the academy?

Damn it Marcus, say something!

"Dom…" Finally. "This is Melanie Santiago. She's your daughter."

Oh God, I couldn't breathe. Everything was going dark. There was no way he'd want to see me. This was my last chance. I could just turn and run. I could leave, and I'd never have to see-

"What?" Dom took a couple slow steps across the room, towards me. I couldn't read his expression anymore because I was so worried about my own. "Are you serious?"

Marcus nodded, his lips pursed. "Look at her, Dom. You know it's true."

I don't have a damn clue why, but something about that line brought on the tears. I took a hesitant step forward, glancing at Marcus to make sure it was okay. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, and I was on my way to becoming an absolute mess. So I figured it was time to do something before the moment became too embarrassing for me. No turning back from here, right?

Before I even registered what my body was doing, I was across the room, up in the air and then landing into Dom Santiago's arms. He caught me with ease, like I knew he would. My arms wrapped around his neck probably a bit too tightly, and I hid my face in the crook of his neck. It took all of my strength to not sob like a four-year-old, but I managed. My feet were suspended in the air because he was so freaking tall.

And then I started to laugh. Uncontrollably. I'd never felt so freaking happy in my life.

His warmth, his scent, his breathing, everything that proved to me that he existed, that he was alive. I'd never be able to get enough of it. My father was here, in my arms, hugging me back. There could be a riot outside, the building could collapse, the Locust could attack, and I wouldn't care. I probably wouldn't even notice.

"Guess we've got some catching up to do," Dom murmured in my ear, tightening his hold on me.

I nodded and laughed, tickling my cheek on his facial hair. "Yep. I guess we do."