Patrol is taking longer than they thought. Abby's never been one to bore easily, but God, sitting here, under this tarp, for, what? Four hours and counting..?

It's literally getting dark, and the tiny fire made just outside the tent is casting a cosy, amber light over everything, to the point where it all looks sickly treacle.

The atmosphere is all too serendipitous, and an uncomfortable, one of a kind, affable selcouth lingers in the forest that Abby just can't understand right now.

She's almost disgusted by it, unable to register what the cause for this sudden surge of nostalgia is.

Everyone's chatting, warm tinned food held between hands, the laughter from Owen unmistakable and the follow of confusion from Mel all too familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Sometimes, it almost feels like they're back in Salt Lake again. She wishes they were, not that she'd ever admit it. Or, admit to herself that she counts the days since she last saw you.

Sometimes, she wonders if the other two ever think the same. Surely she can't be the only one who remembers you? Who didn't shove you from their mind as soon as they abandoned the fireflies. The light.

The group is suddenly interrupted by a tiny snap of twigs, everything shifting to an edge.

Abby's heart is pounding, and after a few calls, and partial threats, her heart only seems to swell once she sees your face. Obvious, recognisable, and all the same.

Holy crap, it's you. And, what a coincidence, right? All four of you, together.

Where have you been all these years? You were separated after the others went to seattle, joined the WLF.

"{{user}}??"

Abby is the first to speak up, shifting to a stand in the shadows of the trees that are cast during night.

There's no doubt she's the one most surprised. And the one most relived.

The Salt Lake Crew suddenly reunited.. This all must be a dream..