Rebel: A Monstercat Fanfic

042 - Guardian

Song of the Chapter: Till It's Over - Tristam (Glitch Hop/110 BPM)

I know we need a comic relief chapter ... this isn't it, sorry.

(Tristam's POV)

I hold my breath as another MI car speeds around the corner, sirens wailing. They don't see us hiding in the alleyway, smashed between two buildings. We survived day one, but the city was shut down - no one is getting in or out for a couple days. There's no way we can get back to the hotel, since they'll most definitely arrest us there, and it's impossible to sneak out past the MI officers and Jensen's soldiers. I shudder just thinking about them.

"Is it clear?" Braken whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

I nearly jump out of the alley in surprise. "Whoa, Braken, don't scare me like that."

"Sorry," he mutters.

"But yeah, it's clear. Come on." I step out of the alley and walk a couple feet before searching for a new hiding place. We're both exhausted, but we need a safe place to rest or else the MI will catch us completely off guard.

It's nearly past midnight, but there are still cars and even a few people roaming the streets - though considerably less than before our declaration was read. Some people have begun taking matters into their own hands and an officer has already been killed in a small riot on the other side of the city. Most people are playing it safe and staying inside.

"What about back behind there?" Braken suggests, pointing to a closed comic book store. "Behind that?"

"We can try it out."

Together, we start walking, casually, across the street. Braken keeps his hand on my arm, as if he's afraid he'll lose me again. I don't blame him, not really. Not after what happened before. We duck behind the building and find a garbage-filled corner, just big enough for the two of us to fit. Hopefully, no one will think to look back here. I slide in and sit down carefully. The whole place smells like smoke and beer, but it'll do.

Braken sits next to me and stares off into space, thinking. A glance would tell me that he's relaxed, but I know him better than that. His shoulders are tight and his head is completely straight up - usually, it's tilted a little, off to the left. He's rested his back against the wall, like me, but his legs are half-crossed and his arms are wrapped around himself for protection.

Instead of telling him that he has nothing to worry about, or ask him what's wrong, I merely ask, "What are you thinking about?" It's a way I've found helps him feel free to leave out anything he doesn't want to tell me.

He doesn't look at me; turning his face up to the night sky instead. His thick brown hair falls away from his eyes and I can see that they're panicked and afraid. "What if ... " he whispers. "What if this was a bad idea? What if we've just given the city a death sentence? You saw what happened with the declaration. What if we're doing more harm than good?"

I don't know what to say. "I guess ... " I start slowly. "The heroes always win in the end, don't they? If we fight hard enough, we'll get what we want."

"That's just the thing. Every villain is a hero in his own story. Are we the heroes to everyone else, or are we the villains?"

The moonlight illuminates the jagged white scar on his face, and I start to think about his father. Was he some sort of hero, too?

"They want us to crumble just as badly as we want them to," Braken continues, still looking up to the stars. "If we're both fighting hard enough, who's going to win?"

"You're hurting my head." I look up, too. The stars are clouded by city lights and pollution.

"I'm afraid, Leo. What's going to happen to us?"