Tyson couldn't help but wish that he had listened to his parents, that he had become a soldier. As no matter how much he loathed violence, strategic thinking would have done him some good instead of filling his thoughts with endless worry.

Would they survive the siege of the Alamo? How? Would Beor catch up with his beloved and get the portal for them to escape?

At this point, all Tyson cared about was to leave Alamo. It didn't matter to him much where they would end up or if they would progress in the maze or go backward.

That was how they spent most of their time while also doing their best to avoid the soldiers. It was crucial to hide the fact that they didn't belong there, that they had no knowledge of what it meant to be a soldier, of how they should behave.

When the moment of the Alamo falling started approaching, Tyson was starting to do something he never did before. He panicked.

"Ahem, Tyson, when will they come?" Marcus asked, seeing the increased agitation in Tyson's behavior.

After all, being helpless wasn't something either one of them was good at. However, there wasn't much that could be done but wait and hope. Because going over to the Mexican side and finding Loralei and the portal would be suicide, and escaping in any other way seemed impossible.

The two of them did spend hours upon hours talking about their options. And even though Marcus participated wholeheartedly in all of their discussions, the solution simply didn't exist, or they didn't have enough information to find one.

"In a few hours. We are running out of time, and I am starting to think that Beor might have ended up dead, killed by Mexicans, or he ended up as an amnesiac," Tyson said hopelessly.

"Come on, Tyson, don't talk like that. We'll get through this!" Marcus said, trying to drum up all the enthusiasm he could muster. "From what you told me we've been through far worse."

"Well, I am not sure it's worse, but we have been through a lot," Tyson said, sighing deeply. "Still, there was always something to be done to stay safe. Even if it was just sitting in our room doing nothing. This time, I honestly can't think of anything that would keep us safe."

"Well, didn't you say that the women hide in the church and that they survive the ordeal?" Marcus asked, thinking hard.

"Yes, but how does that help us?" Tyson asked tersely, feeling on the edge of reason.

"I was thinking, what if we disguise ourselves as women and hide in the church?" Marcus asked without missing a beat.

Tyson looked at his friend's serious face and wondered how they were friends with such different personalities. It would have seemed impossible to him if someone had told him they could become such good friends. The rational guy and the overly imaginative, head in clouds guy, who would have thought it could work out?

"Are you serious?" Tyson asked, unsure how to process the utter craziness that Marcus had suggested.

"Yes, why not? I mean, that does seem to be the only way to stay alive. I am ready to do anything it takes to survive, aren't you?" Marcus asked sternly.

"Maybe because we aren't in a movie where we would conveniently find just what we need to pull that off," Tyson said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Well, we could like steal some women's clothing and put a scarf over our heads, and voili?" Marcus said, gesticulating wildly.

"Haha, well, that sure would be something," Tyson said, bursting into unrestrained laughter. "We would be the prettiest ladies in the land. I am sure no one would notice our short hair and unnaturally male body shape."

"Are you making fun of me?" Marcus asked, insulted.

"No, no, of course not," Tyson said, struggling to contain his laughter that was threatening to blossom once again. "That would have been a great idea if we were in another time where there are wigs and things like that, but I am pretty sure that it wouldn't work here."

Marcus had a doubtful expression on his face as if he thought that Tyson was just blind to see the genius behind his idea. Thus, Tyson did his best to compose himself and continue deconstructing Marcus's 'genius' plan.

"Besides, you are rubbish at acting. You wouldn't be able to walk like a lady, let alone talk like a lady," Tyson said.

"And you would?" Marcus asked bitingly.

"No, not at all, and those are just some of the problems with your plan," Tyson said rationally.

Although imagining the two of them pretending to be women had him on the verge of a laughing avalanche. "Don't you think that Travis would notice the two of his men were gone? What do you think he'll do, just let us go?"

"Wait a minute. Wasn't there something about him drawing a line and some soldiers being allowed to surrender and walk out of Alamo?" Marcus asked, his eyes brightening up in hope.

"Marcus, those are just legends. Do you really think he had the time to do that?" Tyson asked, annoyed. "What they do in the military at this time if someone deserts their post is kill them."

"Are you sure about that?" Marcus asked.

"No, of course I am not sure. I don't know anything more than you do about the military and its rules and regulations. However, considering their precarious situation, I wouldn't be surprised if that ends up happening to deserters. Either way, are you ready to risk it for an idea that has low chances of even working?" Tyson asked.

"Well, it's still an idea!" Marcus snapped at Tyson. "I don't see you coming up with heaps of your own ideas!"

"You are right. I am sorry. We'll keep that as a last resort," Tyson said, never really planning to implement the ridiculous plan but still wanting to appease his friend. "Deal?"

"Deal," Marcus said. "Either way, you are just jealous because you know that I would make a hotter chick than you."

That was when they both burst out laughing at the mere idea and the images it created in their minds. Only once they started did they realize that they needed that. They needed to release some of the tension that was so thickly coiled up around them that it barely allowed them to breathe.

Their lives were in danger. They had no idea how to survive, and yet there they were, laughing like two idiots who had no worries in the world. It felt good to just be, to enjoy the moments as their last one might come sooner than expected.

It was a way for them to get out all the tension, and both of them preferred that to crying as they were both taught that men shouldn't cry.

"Could you clue me in on the joke as I sure can use some laughter myself," a firm male voice cut through their revelry.

Tyson was the first one to recover his wits and turn around, hoping that it wasn't the commander who saw them losing their minds. It was safe to guess that going crazy wasn't something the military approved of either.

To his relief, it was just Beor seeming out of breath and disheveled but otherwise unharmed.

"Beor, you are yourself? You still have all your memories?" Tyson asked in shock.

He had reckoned the guy done for one way or another, and the last thing he expected was to see him back more or less intact.

"What happened to you, dude? You look as if you've been dragged through a hedge backward," Marcus said.

Tyson looked at his friend-raising an eyebrow as he was surprised by the odd expression Marcus had used. Furthermore, he disapproved of Marcus poking at the guy who almost broke his nose.

"Well, things didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped," Beor said, sounding exhausted. "I thought I could talk to her, make her see reason, but she was too far gone."

The sadness in his voice confirmed Tyson's assumption that he still felt something for her, and he sympathized with the guy. However, there were other things to think about besides broken hearts, such as coming out of the whole ordeal alive.

"Why didn't she put a whammy on you?" Marcus asked before Tyson could say something comforting that would move them along.

Still, it was a valid question, so Tyson didn't chastise Marcus for it. After all, maybe tearing the band aid could be seen as the best approach.

"I think she didn't want me to forget the time we spent together, our love. No matter who she is now, she seems to want us to share those memories," Beor said pensively. "And instead of thanking her for that, I returned the favor by throwing a knife at her."

The sadness in his voice was palpable. Tyson wished there was something he could do to make everything better.

"Did you ki..." Marcus started to say.

"Marcus!" Tyson interrupted quickly.

Luckily Marcus understood and closed his mouth with a pop.

"I threw a knife at her hand," Beor said, staring daggers at Marcus. "To get this."

As he said that, he showed them what they needed to see the most at that moment. Their salvation.