A/N: Okay, one more time. I realized that I might have published this one a little too hastily in my excitement to get to the main story arc. So many great ideas and I am unable to slow down long enough to realize that there was something sadly lacking here. Thank you wonderwoman56 for reminding me that more needed to be said. Oy Vey! You can shoot me after the story is done...

A/N: Due to an unexpected interruption in my writing schedule, this installment was not published in a timely manner. For that my dear readers, I humbly crave your pardon.

Oh, who am I kidding? You are all probably grateful for a breather from reviewing a new chapter every fifteen minutes.

This chapter in all its sappy glory is dedicated to my husband who is also one of my dedicated reader/reviewers and really wanted to see more of Adora. (although I refuse to disclose his screen name)

Tin Man Not Mine

Happiness: A state of well-being characterized by emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy

Annual One after Wyatt Cain's capture Adora wrote her first love letter to the husband whose death she mourned.

My Darling Tin Man:

Jeb turned twelve yesterday and I cried realizing it was the first birthday you would not be celebrating with us. He smiled so bravely as I brought his favorite meal to the table, but I could tell he was remembering too. Your son is just as tenderhearted and courageous as his father. I am so proud of both of my men, even the one I will never hold again in this life.

We escaped from the mines only a cycle after Zero dumped us there and since that day, the resistance is going strong in your honor. Jeb is so much like you, it scares me. I have been trying to raise him right and never let him forget the father who gave up his life for the most noble of causes. I do not do him justice. Most days, I barely hold on myself. But I refuse to give up when you fought so hard to the very end.

Do you see me on my bad days? I am sorry if you do; I do not really blame you for what happened. I just have so much anger and grief that I cannot help myself. I have to let it out or I will go mad.

Jeb wants to fight so badly but I am trying to let him be a little boy for a little while longer. He says he understands, but sometimes I wonder if he hates me for holding him too close.

I miss you so badly, my love. Zero used to bring around one of those horrid machines once in a while when we were in the mines. He would play and replay your death for us while the guards held our heads forward so we could not take our eyes off the screen. Did you feel the pain when they shot you? Did you suffer for hours or days while you bled to death in front of our home? I never got to tell you I loved you one last time or say goodbye. And when we got out of the mines, I could never make myself to go back.

You would not have been there anyway.

Love,

Your Adora

PS. I never thought you were a coward for wanting to keep us safe.

Annual Two, she wrote her second letter and decided that she would do so every year until she died.

My darling Wyatt:

Another year passes since you left us. I found out yesterday that one of the resistance fighters who had fought beside you has been teaching Jeb to shoot a revolver. My heart sank even as it welled with pride. I am tickled to note that he might just be able to outshoot you – but my memory is somewhat hazy on that point.

The witch is still in power and we seem to make no headway in dethroning her. I would not write to you of such dire things if there were more happy times to fill these pages.

Oh we have our moments of quiet joy. When a baby is born in the still watches of the night in a rough tent in the Resistance camp. Or when we celebrate an anniversary or birthday. There was even a wedding between the camp's healer and the blacksmith. We have to stay quiet, for fear the Longcoats might hear us, but there are many ways to rejoice in the silence.

The other day, Jeb woke up screaming from a nightmare. When I finally got him calm, he told me he could no longer remember what you looked like and my heart broke.

So I spent the rest of the night telling him every story I could recall from our early days of marriage. Through my tears, I recalled every vivid detail of your face and personality.

I did not realize until after he went back to sleep that I was also telling the stories so I would be able to remember you too. I fell asleep imagining that I could still see your brilliant blue eyes as you held me on our wedding night.

Love,

Your Adora

My beloved husband:

Jeb turned fourteen this year. He is now a man in his own rights and you would be so proud of him. He is now helping me lead the Resistance, and he is extremely intelligent. We have used many of his ideas in our battle strategies, although I am loath to send him out on the front lines. He tells me not to coddle him right before he winks and walks off with that cocky swagger you always pulled off whenever you got your way. I know I cannot hold onto him any more than I could hold on to you, but my mother heart is breaking the more he outgrows his dependence on me. I am actually finally understanding that it was a very good thing we did not have any more children. As much as I grieved over our loss, I would never wish another child of mine to grow up fatherless. It is hard enough watching Jeb struggle through.

I have been noticing a small change in him lately and it worries me a bit. The war has had some painful effects on both of us, but I think Jeb is suffering more. He lost a father at a very delicate time in his life and it is hurting him in ways I cannot see. There is a hard, cynical edge to our son that I never saw in you no matter what we suffered. How many other sons and daughters must suffer without their fathers guidance and love before the Sorceress has had her fill of blood?

I miss your presence,

Adora

My Dear Love:

Our son has just introduced me to his first crush. She is a pretty little thing with blue eyes and dark brown hair. Her parents are resistance fighters and have often let us stay with them when we need a safe house between battles. She is only three annuals younger than our son, and already apprenticed to the camp healer. Her name is Dorothea after the first victim of the witch's rule. Jeb calls her Dotty and pulls her pigtails. I am reminded of another Cain boy who once did the same thing to the woman he loved. Perhaps it is more than a passing crush.

How do I continue raising him without you, my love? He is fifteen annuals old and I am so frightened that I will damage him irrevocably. He reminds me that the war has damaged him more than any mistakes I will ever make, but I am still scared of the future. You will not be there when he walks his bride down the aisle after they say their I do's and you will never see your grandchildren or tell them stories like we dreamed of so long ago.

I do not cry every night now. Somehow, my heart is finally starting to let go of its iron grip on your ghost. I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens in this life. And I will go to my grave happily, knowing that I will see you on the Other Side.

All my love,

Adora

Wyatt:

I do not know how to write this letter. My heart accuses me of betraying your love and memory. But I cannot live in the past forever. And I miss the companionship that a husband brings.

His name is Galen. He has been my closest friend and support. Jeb really likes him a lot.

Actually, you probably remember him. He used to be one of the four Tin Men who worked for the Mystic Man's special detail. He has taken Jeb under his wing and if you remember from my previous letters, he also taught Jeb how to shoot.

I actually hated him for the first two annuals after you died. He was the only one of the four Tin Men who survived the witch's attack. The first time I met him, I punched him and told him to go to hell. He did not get angry with me. Instead, he rubbed his jaw and told me that the fact that he survived when you did not was his own personal hell. Then he cried and said it should have been he who died.

I do not think I love him yet. I like him and he is a good man. We have been drawn together because of you in some strange way and I respect him for that. He told me he loves me and understands that I will never stop loving you.

Oh Wyatt, what do I do? If I had died, I would want you to find love again. I could not begrudge you the chance at happiness for a second time in your life.

My heart aches. I love you. And I do not want to say goodbye.

Adora

Dear Father:

I found these letters after I got out of the tin suit and buried mother. The last one was written a couple annuals ago, and I should probably write one last letter to give all of us closure. At first I was just going to burn them, but I could not bring myself to do it in the end. Still, it took me an annual and a half before I actually decided to finish what she started. She could never get up the courage to write to you after...

Mother did marry Galen about an annual after her last letter to you and they were happy for almost six cycles until Zero caught up with us for a second time. Galen was killed instantly in the crossfire, but mother and I escaped again.

Two cycles ago, Zero came again. This time mother did not make it. I am not sure exactly what happened to her, but what I do know, I will not relate to you. I still have nightmares from the little I was forced to witness.

I was imprisoned in the tin suit just like you had been before Zero shot you. The bastard had the gall to smile at me before he closed the lid. He will die by my hand as restitution for his crimes. I promise on both of your graves that you will be avenged.

I am now leading the Resistance on my own. One cycle after mother's death, some members of the resistance found me and let me out. They look to me for guidance now because I am the son of Wyatt Cain, and I fear that I will never match up to your memory. You are quite a legend in the OZ.

I pray that you and mother are well and once more in one another's arms. She loved you to her last breath and made sure that I would never forget whom my father was. Gods willing I will see you both again someday.

Your Son,

Jebidiah Cain

PS. How long were you in the suit? A few cycles was enough to give me a fear of closed, dark spaces for the rest of my life.

Jeb pushed back his chair and threw the pen down. Picking up the letter, he re-read every line he had written before perusing his mother's letters. Words on paper - that was all they were. There was no life or breath in the last words of Adora Cain. Only pained memories that slowly dimmed each passing day. His mother and father were dead and he had revenge to exact on the bastard who did it.

So why was he pouring over sappy sentiments on parchment paper in the privacy of his tent? The first time he saw the letters, he had wanted to burn them. Yet still, he held onto them for no possible reason he could see. Like his mother had said, he could not live in the past and he had a job to do. He just was not ready to say his final goodbyes. Maybe after Zero was dead, he would finally be able to bury the past and move on for good.

When that happened the letters would burn. For now, he tucked them back into the leather pouch on his belt where he had also stashed his mother's wedding ring. She had given it to him the night she and Galen were wed.

"For the future," She told him sadly, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Your father would have wanted it."

How did she know what his father would have wanted? The man was dead and buried along with Jeb's childhood hopes and dreams.

He did not know whether he wanted to alternately curse his father or beg him to come back. Since the latter option would not work, he chose the former.

When the last tears had subsided and his last curse fell from his lips, he squared his shoulders and stood up. Just as he walked to the opening, a pair of laughing blue eyes caught his brooding ones as the tent flap was pushed aside.

"Brooding again, Cain?" The bell-like voice teased him into smiling. "What have I told you about isolating yourself when you are depressed?"

"The healthiest thing to do during a depressive phase is to avoid situations of isolation," He intoned, raising his voice to mimic her higher pitch. She smacked his arm and scowled in disgust.

"You are incorrigible, Jebidiah Cain! I will never forgive you for mocking me when I was just trying to help," She insisted while trying to keep the sparkle of mischief out of her eyes.

"You will. You always do Dotty," He insisted right back. She smiled and smacked him again before her eyes saddened and she grimaced. "Besides, you are good therapy for me."

"It will get better, Jeb," Her voice softened in understanding. "I promise you, it will get better. The witch cannot rule forever, and someday we will be able to pick up the pieces and move on. Your mother did, and she found happiness again. She also had you to live for."

"And I have you," Jeb leaned down to plant a kiss on her full, red lips. "For as long as that may be."

"What would you do without me?" Dotty asked again, the teasing back in her voice.

"I would probably curl up in a ball and isolate my self, being unable to resist my depressive tendencies."

"You have more heart than anyone I know, Jeb Cain. That is why you feel so deeply. And that is why I love you," His love pressed herself to him in a tight embrace. Pulling back, she smirked and grabbed his hand to drag him out of the tent. "Now get out there General Cain and lead us to victory."

Fingering the letters and his mother's ring once more, Jeb strolled back into the center of the Resistance camp to meet with his sergeants for the next plan of attack.

He thought he might know just why it was not time to burn the letters.

A/N: One more pre-chapter down; one more to go…

I wanted to do something new for Adora's final chapter, because she is such a unique character and could not be approached the same way all the other characters were written. So, I hope this satisfies you while not dragging out her suffering or making her die without one last happiness in life. She did not necessarily move on, but she allowed herself to find companionship with one who shared her sorrow.

My Apologies for the timeline discrepancy! I fixed it, but for those who already read the story, I hope it did not ruin your opinion. I had to change a little bit around to make it work.

Do Not Hate Me Please.