Author’s Note: This story was inspired by Megan’s query about what Pinocchio would be like if he were in love, although the original character in this story is in no way intended to be seen as a love interest for him. (I think Mike himself makes his feelings on that point pretty clear below.) I just wanted to explore a little more of the humanity Pinocchio tries to hide, like I did in “Harsh Reality.” 🙂

I’ll be damned if I know why we picked this one up.

I understand why Florence insisted on pulling Hobbes’ head out of the sand and dragging him along with us. She’s firmly convinced that he’s “The One” prophesied to save the Realm. Although, for the life of me, I still can’t figure out why a military video game has prophecies.

To be honest, I see it too. I mean, hell, anyone who can be here for as long as he has and not lose their soul at least a little bit is definitely something special. Even if he does piss me off with his naivete and idealism more often than not. He’s a clueless bastard, but that might be just what’ll let him succeed where the rest of us couldn’t.

And hell, at least he’s Real.

This kid–because she is a kid, and a damned young one for this place–is a VC. And what’s more, I think she knows it. Something about those phantasms in her eyes makes me think she knows exactly how pointless her existence is.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t leave her behind. The VCs who think that they can get into heaven because they don’t realize they have no souls, they annoy me. But this one I can’t help but pity.

Twenty-five years old and never known any world but this hell.

A week ago, I would have said she was lucky. She’ll never know what she’s missing. But something about those eyes stops me cold. Maybe it’s the way that little gold corona around the pupil looks like there was once a sun where there’s only an eclipse. Maybe it’s their salt-water green color that makes them look like they’re crying even when they’re not.

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t felt this needed in a long time.

Florence doesn’t need me, she just keeps me around to help her with the dirty work. Or because she likes me for some unknown reason. Hobbes only needs me to pound an occasional dose of common sense into that love-and-honor, believe-the-best-of-everyone thick skull of his. Okay, so that’s a pretty big need in this place. But it’s still not the same–any other disillusioned soldier not under Santiago’s thumb could probably do the job just as well as me.

This girl needs me. I can’t explain why, but something in those eclipse eyes always says that there is no one else who could do this job.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not falling for this kid. For one thing, she’s ten years younger than me. That’s a pretty big gap, both in age and in experience. For another, when she’s not wrapped up in one of those damned morose spells that scare the hell out of me, she acts more like an obnoxious but tolerable little sister.

So it’s not love or lust that makes me keep dragging this damned VC with us everywhere we go ever since we found her. It’s something I would never have thought I could still have in me. Not after Desert Storm. And sure as hell not in Harsh Realm.

Guess I do know what I feel for the kid after all.