Ella

We've been here for three days now, and nothing remotely exciting has even happened. My team has finally gotten me out of my room, though, and we've all decided to go for a walk to check out what is our new home. It's not a home to me, though, and I can tell the others are skeptical of what's going on too. It just doesn't feel right, this whole situation, and I can't help but almost wish we were still out in the desert, no matter the amount of food and water we have here. This place is unsettling, and I don't like the feeling that has layered its way inside of me.

"I don't like the looks they're giving us," Mark speaks up after a moment, as we explore a new hall that we haven't yet visited today. "It's like we're experiments, the way the one's without helmets looks at us. It's like nothing has changed, this world might possibly end, and here we are still at that different stage? We may be aliens, but we are not something to be pricked and poked and cut open. I don't want that kind of life." Mark is all worked up, his breath is heavy and coming out in pants as we stop walking, making sure that he's alright. "I want my mom," he says after a moment of us probing him for answers to see if he's okay. "I can't find her. I've gone to where the girl Norovian's stay, I ask for her name, but no one knows where or who she is. What if she's dead? What if they did something to her?" He asks, and I can tell the amount of strength he is holding onto, trying not to let go and break down right here, right now. I have to keep that from happening, I have to keep this boy strong.

"Hey!" I say to the first Guard that passes us by, his mask on his helmet not covering his face, letting me see his grey eyes. "What do they need our names and stuff for? I'm just curious." I want to get to the bottom of this, for they shouldn't just need our names and count us for safety purposes. There is either something fishy going on or there is truly safety issues that they are trying to handle. Either way, they should have no trouble telling us the truth.

"That is classified information, we cannot give that out," he says, his voice gruff, before walking away, not giving us a moment to reply.

"I don't like this, any of this. What is going on?" Carol mutters, and I want to tell her how are we supposed to know? Isn't that the reason why I asked the guy?

"C'mon, I want answers. I don't care if they claim that this place is safe, there is something weird going on, and I want to find out what it is. If this place is our new home until the meteor shower is over with, they should be open and honest with us." My voice is rushed, and I don't wait for them to catch up, as I continue down the hallway we were originally walking, not knowing where it is going to take us.

Dean begins to say something behind me, but is cut off when I pull another Guard to the side, this one wearing a mask. "What's going on? Why isn't anyone giving us answers?" I ask, and underneath his uniform, I watch as his muscles tense.

"That is classified infor--"

"Yeah, 'classified information', you're not the first Guard to tell me that," I mumble, my temper rising with no one answering any of my questions, leaving us in the complete darkness. They have our lives in their hands, the possibilities of what they could do to us are endless. It could be like those radicals, Hunter could just as easily destroy me.

The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

"Then maybe you should know that we can't just give out information like that, then," he states, before turning his back on me, and I can't help but feel defeated. I've been here for three days, and the whole time, there's been something off. We were supposed to come here and be sheltered, be protected, and all that I feel is this hostile aura that the Guards and whoever else here is here giving off whenever I want to know something. I don't want to be left in the dark, not knowing what they're doing, why they're counting, why they need my name. Why do they need our names when there are thousands that died at the hands of the asteroid? What does our names matter?

"Government, this must be the government," Carol whispers as I just stand there, feeling foolish and not for the first time.

"It's military, of course it's government," Mark rolls his yellow eyes, and I want to tell him it's not the time. When we need the support of each other, like we do right now as we try to figure out what's going on, we don't need the arguments.

"Are they going to train us? My grandmother used to tell me of films she'd go to the theater to watch, of alien invasions, and government bases training the humans to fight back," I say aloud, and Dean scoffs next to me.

"Why would they train us? To fight space debris? That makes no sense," he defends.

"They're the government, they aren't supposed to make sense," I reply. He doesn't say anything, none of us do, we just stand here. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to get these answers that I feel as if I need. I don't want this darkness that is surrounding me, surrounding all of us--I want to feel safe. Something I haven't felt in what seems so long.

"I'm not doing this anymore. I'm tired, my body still aches after the journey here, I'm going to bed. I don't like the way they're treating us and not feeding us this information, but I'm exhausted," Carol complains as she yawns, and I can see the dark bags under her eyes, noticing them for the first time.

"I'm exhausted too, honestly," Mark dryly laughs, before he yawns as well, and I can't help but smile.

"Go to sleep," Dean shrugs as he nudges the boy with his arm. "Ella and I can take care of ourselves, we'll get this all figured out." His eyes focus on me, and I can't help but notice that in this lighting, his eyes look almost brown. "We always do." Carol and Mark make a comment, but I don't know what it is. The only thing on my mind, is the way Dean is looking at me. He's looked at me so many times during this crazy trip, but he's only looked at me like this a handful of those times. It's as if he can see right through me, and it's as if he's okay with what is inside. His gaze burns, and I can't look away.

So many times these past three weeks, I've found myself wanting to punch and hurt this ignorant alien that I thought I knew. I thought I had Dean all figured out, but I was so wrong. He's not ignorant--well, he is sometimes--but instead he's more hurt. He's lost so much in his young life, and I can't find a single part of me that hates him anymore. He was a jerk, but we're only kids. I'm seventeen and he's eighteen, we're so young in the world. We make mistakes, we say things, and it hurts. It hurts so much and the pain is still there if I think about it, but I need to let it go. What's in the past, should stay in the past.

He's become such an important part of my life, and I never thought he would be. He has wiggled his Norovian features, into my heart, and I don't want him to leave. I thought that we would get separated here, and we'd never want to see each other again, but that wasn't the case. We got separated, but I don't want to be parted from him. I don't want to lose him. Although Hunter is back in my life--and I'm so thankful for that--I can't help but know that Dean is my best friend now. We may have hated each other for the majority of the time we've known each other, but I feel like he's told me things, let me in and let me see the Dean behind the facade. I feel like I've gotten to know the real Dean, and the person he is when he's kind and sweet, is a person that I have grown so fond of.

We're still looking at each other, and the look in his eyes reminds me of the time I thought he was going to kiss me. I knew he wouldn't at the time, but the way his eyes glanced on my lips, made me think he was going to. This moment right now, is just like that. I'm not exactly sure how I'd feel if in fact he did.

"I should probable head back," I say after a moment, breaking the silence between us.

Dean clears his throat, before looking away and nodding. "Okay. I want answers, though, so do you want me to meet you outside of your room, after lights out?" He asks, and I feel a hit of excitement go through me at the idea of finding out the truth of why we're here.

"Yes, of course."

"Alright, I'll see you in a bit. Be careful," he warns as he disappears in the crowd around us. I begin to walk back the way we came, and my mind opens up to the possibilities of what we may find tonight. This could just be us overthinking everything, or we could actually be in trouble.

I find myself lying on my bed, the darkness surrounding me, as I stare up at the ceiling and listen to Carol's breathing as she sleeps across the room. I've been lying here for about twenty minutes, and I can't help but think about the other day, when we were all in that house and Dean came into the room I was in and found me crying. I've cried so much, most of it being because of him. I didn't want him in there, but when I seen it was him, I didn't want him to leave. He makes me so upset, yet comforts me at the same exact time. The relationship we have is so messed up, I still don't understand what it is.

I also think about how he held me as we laid in that bed, and I wonder if he needed the comfort as well. I wonder if Dean truly needs to feel someone's touch, and when he does it helps him forget, like it helps me.

I slept so good that night, I wish I could sleep like that every night. Carol's words then invade my thoughts, about how she thinks that I have Dean wrapped around my fingers. She clearly doesn't know him if she believes that. But then again, he's so different with me then he is with her. Mostly, because she's annoying and rude, but I can't seem to help but know that he really might care for me, in his own way. He's not wrapped around my finger, but there is truth to some things she tends to say.

A light knock on the door, wipes those ideas from my mind, as I get off the bed and make my way over to open the barrier that shields me from Dean and the answers I'm hoping to get. "Hey," he says once I open the door.

"Hey," I reply, noticing that there is no one at all in the hallway. I then also wonder why they have lights out, what do they not want us to know they're doing while we're sleeping?

"Are you ready for some answers?" Dean asks, attempting a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

I don't reply, I only close the door behind me softy, and follow Dean, wondering which way we're going to go, and where we're going to start.