The human sat down across from him, making the chair squeak as he settled into it. He sipped the long-necked bottle in his hand, then draped his arm across the arm of the chair. "Well, Ratchet, how do you like Griffin Rock?"

"It's interesting. Chief Burns, I'd like to work with your rescue team."

Charlie took another sip, and Ratchet struggled not to chuckle, knowing the beverage wasn't the sort of intoxicant one would expect in a scene like this. "I'm glad to hear it. But still, I have to wonder what brings you out here. Don't get me wrong, we're eager for help, but rescue work is a little different from the war you fought. Bill has a mind that you've got an empty nest and you can't take it, but I'd like to hear your side."

Ratchet nodded. "I suppose it is true. The base simply isn't the same since the children have left. It's been a few years now, and there's no sign of any major conflict. It's too quiet out there, in every sense."

"You sound like a man who never thought he'd be saying it was too quiet."

"Yes. Yes, I never thought that. With no war, but the children… even one of the children… it was different. But now that Raf has gone off to school…"

"I don't know what I'd do if my kids moved out. Kade's talking about it. I don't know if I can handle it."

Ratchet nodded. "I suppose there are benefits to the arrangement you have here. If your children had not followed you into your line of work, they would have moved out sooner."

Charlie sighed. "Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest father in the world. Sometimes, I don't know."

Ratchet nodded. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I noticed that there is no Mrs. Burns. I cannot speculate as to why, but it must be… difficult, with four children."

Charlie smiled, eyes drooping. "I'm all right. I've had a long time to get used to it. But thanks."

"It's difficult, losing someone you love."

"I guess. I worry it might be harder, never knowing them. I wish Cody could have met her, you know? We have videos, letters, but… it isn't the same."

Ratchet leaned forward, looking away from the colorful signals on the wall, away from the world. All he could see was the tiny human before him, frail and slumping.

"They don't have to see that love firsthand to know it's there. The young ones… The security they have. It's like they know someone is watching over them. That's easier than knowing what you've lost." Ratchet looked down, finally, at the floor. "It's easier than missing it every day."

"I'm sorry." The deep voice was soft, quiet, low. "I had no idea. I should have realized."

"No, it's quite all right. Sometimes I need to remember that I am in no way unique."

"You're plenty unique, Ratchet. You just aren't alone."