Disclaimer: I wish I owned Suikoden but I don't.

Title inspired by the song lyric "How many roads must a man walk down, before you can call him a man?" Post SIII.

Mostly Borus-centric, but with some Chris and maybe Percival POV as well later.

Immediate Aftermath

Borus looked around the room at his comrades. The recent war had taken its toll on all of them and they were tired—he was tired. He looked over at his silver goddess as she was discussing the recent events and what was to be done now that the fighting was over. Salome, Lucia and Sasarai were discussing the possible terms of a truce. Percival cleared his throat next to him, drawing his attention. He blinked his burning eyes as he realized he had been staring at his captain. The discussions had ended and the room was emptying slowly. Borus leaned back against the room's rich wooden wall and closed his eyes. Slowly he tuned out the voices of the other knights as his memories of recent events flooded his mind.

***

Running through the ruins as fast as their heavy plate would allow, the six knights rushed toward their destiny. A figure stood blocking their way, the appearance of whom caused their captain to freeze in her tracks. Borus heard the pain in her voice despite her whisper of a single word.

"Father?"

The figure of Wyatt Lightfellow spoke to her, but all Borus could remember was the pain in her voice and the roar of anger in his ears. He was on edge and ready to strike if this… thing that looked like Chris' father moved to hurt her in any way. In his peripheral vision, he noted Percival readying himself as well, preparing for a united attack that they had perfected during the long and drawn-out fighting. He saw his opening and rushed the figure, knowing Percival was doing the same. He managed to get in one good strike before he felt… something… hit him hard in the gut and launch him into the air. He hit the wall hard and felt something crack from the force of the impact and then he fell with a thud and a clang to the stone floor. Dimly he felt rubble falling onto him, but it did not stop his struggle to retain consciousness against the rushing sound of blood in his head. He forced his eyes open and was greeted by a vision of his captain, standing resolute and facing her enemy. He tried to call out to her, but his words were silent in his ears.

"Be strong, Milady…" echoed in his head before the darkness took him.

The next thing he could remember was the feeling of warmth and light surrounding him, washing him. It felt like a long soak in Goro's bath, only not nearly as wet.

"Surely, I must be dead and Sadie is welcoming me to her arms." He thought. He slowly opened his eyes as the warm feeling faded and the aching in his body became apparent.. He looked directly into sad lavender-gray eyes once the ability to focus returned to him. He felt himself smiling goofily at his silver goddess as she spoke softly to him. Her voice was a mixture of sadness and relief.

"Well fought, Borus." She had said, as she held his head in her lap.

"I'm dreaming." He thought, until he was hoisted to his feet by his fellow knights and friends. He rubbed the back of his head, where the throbbing was the greatest and wincing, felt his hair thick and sticky with blood.

"I should be dead." He realized as he watched his captain stand and stagger slightly with the exertion of her Rune's power. His heart ached as he watched her wave off assistance from Louis, noting that her normally fair face was blanched white, like newly bleached linen, but she stood firm and lead her men onwards to the final battle.

***

Lifting his weight from the supporting wall, Borus returned mentally to the small meeting room. His fellow knights were discussing the terms of the truce with the Grasslanders with varying degrees of satisfaction. He couldn't follow the discussion as he was lost in his own thoughts, nor did he desire to.

"Milady?" he said loudly, over the arguments. "I need to take a leave of absence." The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. Borus just stared at the ceiling waiting for a response. He felt her eyes questioning him, looking for an explanation, but he felt he could not be forthcoming with his thoughts at the moment.

"Very well, Borus. How long do you think you will need?" Her voice was tinged with concern, but she otherwise maintained her typical stoic tone.

"I do not know, Milady." He looked at her finally. Her eyes betrayed the depth of her concern for him. She held his gaze for a moment before nodding her permission. He nodded in return before walking out of the room.

Borus lay on the narrow bed in the small inn room he shared with Percival at the united army's base chateau. His heavy armor discarded haphazardly on one side of the room, he lay quietly in his rough brown cotton underpinnings with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know why he was crying, but he couldn't stop. He threw his forearm over his face in an effort to stem the flow. Some time later, he heard the door open. The heavy thunk of metal on wood told him that his roommate had returned. Borus lay still, hoping to convince his friend that he was asleep as he listened to the other man removing his own heavy plate and laying back on his own narrow bed with a loud sigh.

"That was… unexpected of you, Borus." Percival said to his friend. Borus only turned to his side away from him. He heard Percival shifting likewise in his bed.

"Borus." Percival called to him, his voice filled with concern for the man he had grown to see as a brother. "Are you alright?" Borus sighed; he could never fool Percival. Wiping his eyes, he turned stiffly to sit on the side of his bed facing his friend.

"What do you think?" His rich baritone sounded rough in his ears. His light brown eyes burned and were puffy and red, belying the tears that had been falling, despite his attempts to hide them.

"You look like hell warmed over." Percival's normally playful tenor was unusually subdued despite the mild jab contained in his words. Borus clenched his hands into fists as he leaned on his knees. His head drooped heavily until he was staring at the floor. Two tears fell from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. They struck the floor noiselessly.

"I should be dead." Borus said quietly.

"Oh, come on, Borus. Not one of us here hasn't cheated death at least once in our lives. It's a hazard of the job."

"No, Percival. I should be dead. I would be but for the grace of Lady Chris."

"I know." Percival responded quietly, his voice pained at the thought of losing his best friend. The blonde knight ran his hands through his thick hair. He gingerly touched the sore spot at the back of his skull. It was still very tender and slightly soft to his touch. He winced at the feeling. Lady Chris had indeed saved his life and healed him enough to allow his adrenaline to get him through that final battle, but Borus knew he would need time and rest to heal completely and return to his place by her side. He looked up at his friend, his light hair flopping in his face.

"What are you going to do with your leave time?"

"I'm not sure yet. I just… I need time to think is all." Borus sighed. "And to heal."

His voice betrayed his feelings of failure and worthlessness. Percival looked at him with grim determination on his face.

"You need a soak in the bath." Percival commanded finally as Borus stood stiffly, cringing with the motion. His body was still sore all over from the prior day's battle. "And a nice bottle of wine. Should do wonders for the healing process." Percival said as he gave Borus a light shove toward the door. "Come on, Borus. You know the good Doc said the bath will help with the aches and pains." Playful chiding returned to the older man's voice.

"I don't see how drinking will help my concussion." Borus grumbled in response, but allowed himself to be herded to the ship at the back of the chateau and the warm bath therein.