She means I'm about to wake up.

You wake up with a jolt. You’re back in bed, your bed, when you come back to your senses. Bones, the dog, is looking at you. You rub your eyes and let out a soft sigh as the events of your dream…

“Fuck,” you rub yourself and grunt, swinging your legs off the bed.

The events of your WET dream replay in your head. The memories have a strong lingering effect causing your penis to come back to life, apparently eager to have something done with it again. You wash up and get Bones ready to leave your room. It takes you a little while, but when you finally get back around to going to work, Scarlet is out there about ready to knock. You’re surprised to see her hair black with blonde roots again. She’s again wearing jeans, a plate carrier, and a pistol belt.

“Where have you been?” She says, reaching for the lease. Bones happily takes his new handler and passes through the door’s threshold. Your eyes follow him before returning to Scarlet.

“I had one Hell of a nightmare…” You trail, wondering if that’s even the correct phrase to use. It wasn’t a nightmare, and the cooling warmth puddled in your underwear is enough to remind you of that fact. Scarlet, however, looks at you understandingly, probably recalling more of her own experiences instead of considering different circumstances. “I’ll be out after a rinse and a change of clothes.”

“Yeah, take your time,” she says, reaching for her walkie-talkie. I’ll tell the others to start their patrol, but I’ll wait inside if you don’t mind.

You did mind, but you didn’t have a good enough excuse to leave her outside or to kick her back to her room or even outside…

…

…

The night draws near, and the routine you committed to the first time is repeated a second time. You remain vigilant with Scarlet, who seems less interested in the events of the interior than she is in the quiet of the exterior. In one particular pause, you join her gaze with the inky hue of the desert. Bones sits and stares at the fair, sniffing as the sounds entice his attention away from his handlers.

Scarlet adjusts the strap of her carbine and exhales. “There’s someone out there. Did you see that?”

“No,” you say, checking again. “Where?”

“That slope,” she said with a weak point that gestured to the entirety of the world. “Look! There’s a light.”

You didn’t need help spotting her concern this time. The brief flash of orange light caused your gaze to fixate and stare at the point of abnormality. “Yes, yes. I saw it. Is it our job to investigate it?”

Scarlet took a moment. “I’m tempted to dispatch our handicaps up there.”

“Softspot and Half-Gob?”

“Ahh… maybe Softspot with Sevens and Fifth-Finger … I’ll pair you with Half-Gob and let you run support with them. I’ll stay here with the dog and double-time the our patrols. If anything that sounds out of place happens here, get back fast, especially if you don’t hear anything from me, yeah?”

“Who’s the acting superior in our gathering?”

Scarlet scoffs with a smile. “You, of course.”

…

…

You met with Half-Gob, Softspot, and. Fifth-Finger.

The non-uniform fit of your appearance made you feel like the good old times of running contracts with groups instead of solo.

The good times were much worse, and remembering your current teammates previous practice run, you can't fight the knot that tightens inside your intestines. You chewed on the interior of your mouth and spat out what you bit off as you traversed unfamiliar ground towards literal shadows.

Despite your worries, those around you kept their heads on straight and made little noise as you guided them to the source of your dispatch. When you got within 50 yards, you brought the crew together and knelt.

Half-Gob moistened her lips, her eyes dark as they regarded you or orders. How quickly she became loyal as soon as the time came and you were in charge… “Orders?”

Sevens swallowed. "I can take point, but if I'm doing that I'll need Softspot with me. Someone quick."

Fifth-Finger chimes in. "Let's send Softspot in alone and see if he can entice any shots or shouts, we'll take care of the rest as it unfolds."

Half-Gob, thinking it's time to announce all thoughts also adds to the growing list of plots. "Let's all go forward, take turns taking hard points of cover while we leap frog until we're there."

"Or," Softspot draws out. "We shout now and call out whoever is out there to come out. Warn'em we're with the circus and city, and that they don't come out, they'll be shot to ****."

You look up the group. "I'll get Scarlet on the fucking horn and see what she thinks," you cut in sharply. "Shut the fuck up."

The circle cringes. Half-Gob even frowns, realizing she was no better than anyone else that has side-tracked the advance.