A/N: So I have accepted SoraNoWoto's story challenge and I'm actually kinda glad this author even came up with it. it gave me an excuse to write this fanfiction that has nagged at me for almost two years now (Time sure does fly fast when you do that). Its an old concept but I think I finally figured what I want to do with it now that I've had some time to look things over. So this is: Story Of His Life.

Update: I'm going to continue this story, but in a different direction that before. This will contain a lot more fluff.


Some days, he hated his job.

The only question she had been asked so far was her name, and yet even that she refused to answer. By the look in her eyes, it seemed as if she were frightened that if she did answer him, it would kill her instantly. It wouldn't, but he wasn't going to confirm that- even if it would break the awkward silence that now hung thickly in the room. The tension could be cut with a plastic knife, fairly easily, but that wasn't how these interrogations went here.

"All I ask of you is your name." Solomon said in a slow and calm voice, masking his annoyance with her lack of cooperation.

The girl winced and turned her head to the side. Solomon followed her gaze and looked down as a still bloody wound on her leg. She had gotten it when she was first lead here, when she kicked at her captor and missed. He made a mental note to have a medic patch her up before they sent her away. And he did plan on simply having her sent away afterwards. There was no need to kill her.

"What is yours?" She shot out quickly.

Another awkward silence hung in the room again, just as it did before, but two things were different now. Solomon allowed a smirk to grace his face, slightly amused by this question, and the girl now stared up at him with a sudden boldness in her eyes. Still, that did not mask her utter confusion as she waited for an answer. Just then, the smirk fell and a blunt answer followed.

"Solomon." He answered plainly, as if the name itself bored him.

The girl shifted in her chair now, hands clasped loosely on her knees now as she bowed her head yet again. It seemed that she hadn't really been expecting an answer, so she hadn't taken the time to think of a quick reply. At the moment though, it could have really been all she could think to say.

"It suits you." She replied quickly, looking up at the other.

"And yours?" He said. "I just want to know what your name is."

"Max..." She blurted out suddenly. Solomon raised an eyebrow at the name, but figured that was only part of her name. "Maxine... My name is Maxine..."

So he was right.

"Where are you from, Maxine?" This second question came as soon as she had answered the first one.

Not that he expected her to be able to reply. With the amount of time it took her to figure out her own name, her point of origin would no doubt be a difficult one to answer. They both knew this already, that it would be a long talk, so Solomon leaned against the wall behind him, his gaze still focused in on her. There was no use in standing so stiffly anyhow.

"Somewhere far away." She answered bluntly.

His eyes narrowed slightly from behind his glasses, and he watched the way she smirked at eyes she couldn't see. It was instances like that that REALLY made him dislike his job all the more. But that couldn't be helped.

"Can you define 'somewhere'." Solomon asked, but Maxine only shook her head slowly.

"I can't do that." She replied, bowing her head again with a simple shrug.

"And why is that?" He actually sounded rather interested now, cocking his head to one side, and for a second he wondered if he was.

"Because I don't trust you." She said, but he knew that wasn't the reason.

"Do you remember where somewhere is?" He asked.

He watched her shake her head, and that was all that could be done. After this, a light in the room was in flipped on fully, reviling the girl to now be laying on her side on the floor, a single wire connected to the base of her neck. It soon removed itself and slithered back up into an unknown spot in the ceiling. Under closer inspection a few drops of blood could be seen coming from Rochelle's ear, but not enough to really concern the man still watching her. The shock they had given her was only enough to knock her out, but it wasn't enough to truly harm her. The blood wasn't anything.

"What should we do with her?" A solider of G3 asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

"Let the med-bay look at her wounds... She'll be questioned more when she wakes up." Solomon answered as he turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word.

"Yes sir."

Some days, he hated his job, but that was the only emotional attachment he had. The girl would be questioned, and sent home without a memory of ever being there, and then the process would continue. He never took the time to form any sort of attachment to these people, no matter who they were. It came with the job, and there was nothing to be done about it.


Sherman Hospital: 32 Years Earlier.

Hospitals were always a terrible place to be. The stark white walls were painful to look at the smell of medicines and cleaning supplies was just sickening in its own special way. However, it was sometimes impossible to avoid these places, so with a look of disgust plastered on his face, the young child tracked down the halls. He was attempting to find the hospital room that the nurse had pointed him in the direction of not more than five minutes earlier.

'B497...' He thought over and over again, attempting not to forget it as he turned down the corner quickly and looked up at the first door on the left.

It read the jumble of letters and numbers he had been running through his mind, etched in the pale plastic nailed to the door, resembling more of a headstone than anything else. A rather fitting comparison, as a heavy atmosphere hung over the door, warning the child of what was on the other side. Pale and trembling fingers knotted into a fist, rapping lightly against the hard wood for a few seconds before dropping back down again. It only took a moment before the door was pulled away from the frame, and the sickening scents of the hospital's room soon rushed out into the hall.

"Hello." His father's booming voice greeted him the instant the child was reviled to him.

Like his son, the man, only aged 45, was pale white in both skin and hair color. His disproving face looked heavy today, in both age and a second underlying emotion, as his red eyes stared off into the empty hallway behind his son. He stepped out of the doorway not even a second later, allowing his child to enter into the room, seemingly against both of their wills.

"Where is she...?" The child asked softly, looking passed the bed in the center of the room and instead looking around.

The father sighed softly, pressing a hand to the back of the child's head and gently steering him passed the bed and in the direction to the corner of the room. As they passed the bed, the child's eyes darted to the still lying figure in the bed. The body of a woman, his mother, with the sheets pulled up passed the bridge of her long nose. Her own pale hair was spread about the pillow, framing her small eyes and narrow forehead. The scent of the hospital hadn't been over taken by that of death yet, but the child could tell that she had been this way for quite a while.

"Your sister." His father's voice cut through the air in an instant, drawing the child's attention back to the corner of the room.

A basket was directly in front of him now, propped up on four sturdy stands with a pink blanket flowing down the sides, hiding the newborn from view and causing the child to stand a little straighter in order to see her and her nameplate. The baby was only a few days old, but already had quite a bit of pale blonde hair on her head, framing her chubby face and narrow forehead the same way their mother's hair did to her. Her brother's dark eyes darted down to her name plate now, reading it until he had it committed to memory.

Maxine Kane

"What do you think of her?" Their father's voice sounded above him, sounding both tired and hopeful.

In an instant, the elder child's eyes flared in a rather cooled rage, darting back quickly to their deceased mother before looking back down at the little devil who had taken her from him. Taking in a deep breath, he stepped away from the baby's bin, pale hands brushing the soft blanket one last time as he turned away from her and started towards the door.

"I hate her..." With that he took off running, catching only the beginning letters of his name before disappearing out the door.

"Sol-"


Present Day:

A low tapping on the office's metal door drew Solomon's attention from his thoughts. Turning towards it, he watched as the door slid away from its frame, disappearing into the wall and reviling a red jump-suit clad soldier. Beside him, a young girl. If her groggy appearance and messy hair was anything to go off of, she had just woken up. It made sense- it was only 4am, and his sources told him that she had only gone to bed two hours ago.

"Good morning, Ilana." A greeting that didn't completely lack friendliness.

"Morning." She echoed, not rightly sure what a proper response would be in this situation.

"Shes awoken." The soldier from beside her replied, stating the obvious as he wrapped a gloved hand around the girl's thin arm. "She tried to leave her room on her own and asked to see you-"

"No."

"No?" Ilana pipped up, tensing up as she attempted to shake her arm out of the soldier's grip.

Her arm was soon released, and the soldier turned sharply on his heels, leaving down the hallway without a word to either of them. Ilana watched him, but her gaze quickly returned to Solomon, and she continued watching as he stood up from his chair and began to approach her in swift but even steps, stopping only once when he was in front of her.

"Follow me." He muttered, now passing her by in the doorway.

"But- You just said-" Ilana began.

"How did you sleep, Ilana?" He asked randomly.

"As good as I could-." She replied, a touch bitterly. "I didn't want to wake up Lance- He hasn't been sleeping at all the last few weeks..."

"The shock of loosing a friend will do that." He stated in a matter-of-fact way, looking straight ahead still. "How have you been fairing?"

"..." Ilana bowed her head. "Do you think theres ANY- just a way to bring him back...?"

"... Perhaps." Solomon said. "There isn't any way to be sure of it-"

"That makes me feel a little better." Ilana admitted. "I will take that over nothing."

"Is that what you wanted to see me about?" He asked.

"Yes." Ilana hung her head slightly. "But I also wanted someone to talk to. The room was a little too quiet- Other than Lance's sleep muttering. I honestly miss sleeping in my own room without my brother-."

Ilana cut herself off suddenly. Based on how quickly her face dropped and the bit of colour that flooded the tips of her ears, it seemed as thought she felt that she was overstepping. Or saying too much to someone who wouldn't care. While he couldn't say he cared personally about it, he did have enough concern for the alien to humor her some- but only for a little while.

"Hm... Brothers can be irritating like that, I suppose." He said.

"They can be." Ilana huffed, her voice raising to an almost hopeful tone of voice. "Like when they leave their things on the stairs or practice guitar at 2am on a school night-"

"Never did that..." Solomon heard himself mutter, low enough that only the two of them could hear it.

"You're a brother?" Ilana gasped.

He grimaced, and continued to walk ahead of the girl. While he had accomplished his goal of giving the princess some amount of hope, he gave out what he felt to be too much personal information. Though, he really hadn't confirmed of denied it, he had the feeling that Ilana knew the answer already.

"I'm going to guess that you're the older one." Ilana went on. "I thought you reminded me of Lance. So that makes me guess that your younger sibling was also a sister-"

"You'd do very well here." Solomon cut in suddenly. "But you talk a little too much and a little too loud."

"Sorry- Its just nice talking about something happy for once." Ilana admitted.

"... I can't give you much more information than that." He said. "If there were something else that would-"

"Like a TV show- I saw some soldiers watching High School Heights in your break room, so I assume you've heard of it." She smiled. "We could watch an episode of it."

The pair both stopped. It almost fascinated him, the things she would pick up on, and while he wasn't willing to discuss a show he didn't care for, he would be just fine with viewing a segment of it. After all, the world may need the titan again one day, and he was sure they would do a lot better well rested and the least bit happy- or as happy as they could be.