A.N. So I'm pretty much in love with this game. I also like to tell people I'm in love with myself because I'm in love with Jason Brody, who is essentially me. But that's beside the point. What I'm here to speak of is this fic, which is written strangely to coincide with the insanity theme of the game. It's supposed to be snapshots of their lives-mainly Jason and Riley's-after the gang leaves the island.

I hope it makes you smile, if only a little.

Disclaimer: Far Cry 3 may own my heart, but I shall never be the owner of...er, its.

Machete

Jason always walked around with a machete.

The wrong brother came home.

The wrong brother saved the day.

The wrong brother died.

After Citra died, Jason Brody and his friends left the island on the now-working boat. Jason told the others how the Doctor had died, and Daisy cried.

Then everyone followed suit, tears for different reasons, different people, but all held a small joy that finally, everything was over.

Jason didn't cry.

The Brody's mother was shocked at the state her sons were in. One had a bullet wound in the chest, the other missing a finger and covered in blood.

When she heard Grant lost his life, she nearly went catatonic.

Before she lost herself in grief, however, she had time to ask, "Then how did you get off the island?"

Jason's breath accelerated, and Riley flinched.

They all had to recount what happened to them on the island with various people—police, government agents, news reporters, doctors, shrinks, therapists.

When it was Riley's turn to share his experience, he spoke of his torture. When asked who tortured him, he answered Vaas and Hoyt and Jason.

They asked why he included his brother in that list if he knew Jason was undercover, and Riley said he didn't know.

Jason told those who asked—those importantpeople who asked—what his experience had been on the island.

They never could look him in the eye again.

Jason pretended not to notice.

Jason once asked Riley if he knew the definition of insanity.

Liza asked what happened between him and Citra.

Liza went to Hollywood alone.

Jason always walked around with a machete.

Jason knew everyone expected Grant to be the one to save the day. Grant was the capable one, the dependable one, the soldier, the survivor.

Jason had thought that, too. At first.

But they didn't need a survivor on that island.

They needed a warrior.

And Grant didn't survive.

Jason realized why he was able to find the strength he needed to save his friends.

It's because he stopped being scared, and they never did.

Jason realized he stopped being scared when he had his first kill.

Jason left a few days ago, announcing to everyone he would be going skydiving. When prompted where, he shrugged and grinned. When prompted for how long, he gave a salute and left the house whistling The Star Spangled Banner.

Jason always walked around with a machete.