Malia had rushed out of the tent with Carson, eager to find, and help, Sunny. She knew the Strider was very capable, but she just wasn’t willing to chance it. There were still many Huntsmen alive, as far as she was concerned. Hunters, apparently, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything, her only focus was getting Carson and Sunny out of here. They had to go home. When they found Sunny, seeing the triumphant grin on her face, Malia couldn’t help but return that smile, though the smile quickly fell.<br/><br/>She watched as Carson warned Sunny, and she drew her blade before making a move to intervene, but she couldn’t get there fast enough. She watched in horror as Sunny slumped to the ground, she couldn’t produce the words to protest. But, soon, she didn’t have to. She gasped and turned as the cry erupted, but when the members of their own squads came barreling through, she smiled. Both her and Carson took this as a moment to run to Sunny, and Malia held her hand over Sunny’s wound, before turning and digging some bandage from her belt. “If you think you can die, you’re insane.” Malia then got to work bandaging her up enough for the ride back to Central before Carson gave her a pill.<br/><br/>After the Hunters were driven out, the area was actually quite peaceful. Malia was exhausted, and achy, but they still had quite a walk before they reached their own campsite. She stayed next to Carson the entire time, her hand entertained in his when they weren’t holding their weapons. They had won, both against the Vanguard and against the Hunters, Malia felt unbreakable. As if nothing could touch her. She wasn’t sure whether this feeling was welcomed or despised.<br/><br/>Once they had made it back, setting up the taken tents and making sure everyone was settled and attended to, no one walking around with serious injuries, Malia joined Carson in a tent of their own. Her hands had stopped bleeding, they did sting, however. She sat down after discarding her Hunter attire and her gear, holding her hands out to Carson as he began to clean them up. She hissed as he wiped the blood away, but made no move to pull them away or protest. Her eyes remained on him as he wrapped them up, noting how down he appeared to be in the moment. She had no idea what has happened after he was captured.<br/><br/>As he held her hips, his forehead against hers, she closed her eyes and smiled. She’d only been away from him for a few days, but it had felt like a lifetime. Though, at his promise to never leave her behind again, she chuckled softly, her hands rubbing his shoulders. “Good, because I’d come either way.” With a soft kiss to his lips, she disengaged, crawling over to the makeshift cot they had created. It was getting dark, and she knew he was tired as well. She beckoned him over, holding her arms out for him to slide into. He always held her as she fitfully settled for sleep. Now, it was his turn.<br/><br/>Once he slid into bed with her, she wrapped her arms around his body, her nose pressed into his hair on the top of his head. Her fingers trailed up and down his arm, the other along his back as she lay there with him, her Carson. “What happened while you were there? You seemed kind of shook up, Cars.” She kissed the top of his head , her legs tangling with his. She just wanted to be in his comfort, to be there for him, and she was.<br/><br/>After they spoke, the pair settled in their bed, Malia contently tangled up with Carson. The world simply felt right, whole, when she was with him. She cuddled close, before drifting off into a deep sleep. No nightmares, no dreams, just the smell of Carson and his warmth filling her mind.<br/><br/>Over the next few days, Carson and Malia decided they should head back to Central, and so they led the squad backs they arrived just before nightfall, and the Runners retreated to their dorms to clean up and get some rest. Malia and Carson stopped by to see Sunny, making sure she was okay and filling her in before they retreated back to the CIC themselves. She began to strip down from her gear, changing into some shorts and one of Carson’s shirts. She sat down on the bed, hunched over, rubbing her eyes fitfully. She looked up to Carson, then, her eyes clearly giving away just how exhausted she was. “What now? This war isn’t over, not yet.” Her hands were healed up nicely, she had stuck them in that TRIM machine when they arrived home. Now they were only scars.