42S didn't immediately leave the infirmary. His eye was still an ongoing work in progress, as was his physical therapy. He could walk short distances without losing his balance, but the relay between his new legs and his brain was finicky at best. 42S couldn't decide if it was a mechanical or a mental issue. Performing a self-hack only led to a migraine, probably because of his still-damaged eye, and so for the moment, he gave up.

"I wish you could work on me," he confessed to 9S when he came to see him. So far 2B and their daughter B9 had yet to make an appearance. Evidently, despite being a combat model, 2B was shy. As for B9, well, kids and hospitals didn't usually mix. He was a wreck, and 42S didn't want to frighten her.

9S shifted awkwardly and gave him a chagrined smile. "Well, I could try."

"I mean, I get why you haven't. It's okay. Really. I don't think there's much anyone can do about it."

"Hey, we got 11S up and running again. You'll get there. I know waiting sucks, but give yourself some time."

42S nodded. "Yeah. I know."

9S patted his brother's shoulder and 42S tried to smile for him.

"Hey I...have something to ask you," 9S began. The hitch in his voice hinted at something neither of them wanted to put into words.

Inwardly, 42S braced himself. Had someone been infected? 9S? One of the nice red-haired ladies? His Pod 219? Now he was just being ridiculous. Forcing himself to pause and take a deep breath, 42 asked:

"Ask me what?

Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, 9S drew out a small, flat canister not much bigger than the palm of his hand. Without a word, he handed it to 42S who took it, bemused.

"What's this?"

The skin around 9S' eyes tightened in the subtlest of winces. Briefly he glanced down, clearly searching for words, before looking up and offering an apologetic expression.

"What's left of your old OS chip."

"You kept it?" 42S sounded surprised.

9S shrugged. "It wasn't my decision to make. I felt like I should ask you first."

42S looked down at the little tin in his hands. It might have held boot polish, once. It was the right size and shape. Now it held ashes. Ashes of a thing he hadn't even been aware of until after it was gone. He'd intentionally done his best to isolate the Logic virus in his temporary memory storage. It was the safest place to try to quarantine it. He'd spent four long years keeping it contained. Had he known what was already sleeping there...would he have done it? He didn't know.

"Is it still dangerous?"

9S shook his head. "No. We had to burn it. It's only dust now." A pause. "Should I have just...thrown it away?"

42S had to think about that. "I don't know. Was there a reason you didn't?"

9S shifted uncomfortably. "I couldn't. Like I said, it wasn't my decision to make. And...maybe I let my own feelings override my logic."

"What do you mean?"

"I just felt like she deserved to be recognized. Maybe there wasn't much of her yet, but she was part of you and someone special. Someone who may be gone. On top of that, she saved your life. Without her...you probably wouldn't be here."

It wasn't often what 9S said went over 42S' head, but at present, his brain could not parse the words. He hadn't known, hadn't understood what the growing amount of code in his temporary memory was. Now that he did...

His fingers clenched around the tin protectively. 9S was right. She deserved better than to be just thrown away.

"What do you think I should do?"

"I don't know. That's up to you."

There was a lot to think about, but 42S' mind could not settle on any one thing. Perhaps it was because each of the thoughts waiting to be processed were each unpleasant in their own way. A buffet of unappetizing options: bitter, sour, ashen, each flavor worse than the last.

The knowledge that the war was over wasn't painful in and of itself. It was good news. A good thing. But he'd been MIA for most of it. 9S had given him the short version, but he lacked the details of individual stories. 9S' and 2B's story was easy enough to guess, they'd enacted it enough times, but it seemed they'd finally, finally achieved their happy ending. Thank whatever gods there might be left.

4S had come to see him a few times, but hadn't been able to add much. He'd been conducting research and archiving data most of the last few years. 42S was more than content to let 4S ramble about his research. He liked to listen. In another time and place, 4S might have made a good instructor. He had a way of explaining things that was easy to understand. 42S had never thought much about terraforming, or wildlife, or mushrooms, moss, or lichen, but after listening to 4S, he did. It was something calming for him to sort through when the phantasm of cold and ice started to seize his new limbs and burned at his damaged reflex relays. Everything else was still too much for him to try to wade through.

While he tried to sift through the jagged shards of thoughts and feelings, the little tin of ashes sat on the bedside table. Not accusing as such, but somehow more prominent, more present than Pod 219 despite her never leaving his side.

"What should I do with her, girl?"

Pod 219 chirruped. Her voice had vanished in the cold and snow from calling for help non-stop. However, 42S could understand her just fine. It was obvious she didn't know either. Well, he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe by the time he was back in one piece he'd have a better idea. Maybe.

"Hey."

42S looked up at a voice both familiar and not.

"Les!" he felt a smile stretch his lips and cheeks, pulling and cracking skin that hadn't bent that way in a long time. 11S smiled back for him, oblivious to the oil that 42S could taste running from his split lip.

11S looked...different. Like 9S and 4S, the iconic black YoRHa uniform was gone. Instead, he wore work overalls with an abundance of pockets and a battered apron. The only traces of his old uniform were the black buckled boots which had lost much of their shine and the choker just above his collar. The biggest difference, however, was the pod hovering above and behind his shoulder.

"I came straight from work," 11S offered, as if apologizing for his appearance. "Nines and Fours said you were up if not running. Sorry I didn't visit earlier. I didn't want to come empty-handed and it took me a while to find this."

He set a thick, folded bit of fabric on 42S' lap. Blinking, 42S picked it up, watched it unfold as he lifted it. It took him a minute to realize what it was: a fleece jacket. The fabric was a deep shade of navy blue so dark it was almost black, the texture thick and soft, almost fuzzy. Instinctively, he brought it to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. It was as soft to his face as it was to his fingers.

"Nines said you've been cold. That should keep you warm."

"Does he want his cloak back?"

11S waved him off. "Nah, you need it more. Besides, he's pregnant so he's always too hot. He wouldn't wear it anyway."

42S nodded, unable to resist glancing at the tin. 11S followed his gaze.

"...is that it?"

"It?" 42S echoed, unsure how to answer.

"Your burnt-out chip."

"Oh. Yeah. Nines said he didn't know what to do with it, so he saved it for me."

11S perched on the edge of the bed. He didn't say anything right away, just sat there for a moment. For some reason, that was more comforting than 9S' words earlier.

"Nines tried to explain it to us," 11S said quietly. "About having kids. I didn't know that was a thing. Never occurred to me we might be capable. Not like I ever did a lot of dating. I was too busy running the Defense Barrier. Didn't really have time for much else."

42S nodded, only half-listening, still staring at the tin.

"Do you want to talk about them?"

"Them?" 42S looked up at his brother.

"The person you fell in love with."

"Oh." The smile came unbidden, almost reflexive, when he thought about her. "Maybe some other time. She's… She's probably dead by now. Killed in the battle that almost killed me, or when the Logic virus hit, or some point in between."

"You know there are survivors out there? From the Bunker? Threes and 801 were able to get some people out before all hell broke loose."

42S straightened where he sat. "Wait, really? Nines said they'd survived, but he didn't say anything about anyone else."

11S nodded. "Yeah. We've only had brief, intermittent contact with them, but we estimate two groups of thirty to fifty people. She could be out there with them. 32 and his dad are trying to find a route to them now."

There was nothing 42S could say to that. The possibility that she might not be lost hurt even worse than believing she was dead.

"Can you tell me her name? I could check and see if she's with them."

42S shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry I can't. Not right now. I've just… I've lost so much… I can't. I just can't."

11S rested a hand on 42S' leg. "It's okay, I get it. I know it's not the same, but if it makes you feel better, I lost my mind."

42S just stared at him. 11S shrank.

"Sorry. That...that probably doesn't help. I'm really bad at this."

"No, it's okay. I just...I don't follow. You seem alright to me." Maybe a little more blunt, a little less bossy, but still the brother 42S remembered.

"I'm not." 11S looked away. "I can't… I can't scan anymore. Not on my own." He rested an affectionate hand on his pod. "I can't scan or read or write. I can't see straight sometimes. When I talk, I don't always make sense. That part of my hardware got corroded by the saltwater. The twins tried, but they can't fix me. So my pod does all that for me."

"Shit, Les," 42S breathed, horror-struck. "I'm so sorry."

11S shook his head. "Not your fault. Nothing anyone can do about it. Am I angry? Yeah. Does it suck? Hell yeah. Can I still function and work around it...yeah I can. I'm not fit to command anyone anymore, but there's no war, so it doesn't matter."

"It still matters to you."

"Yeah. It'll probably always bug me a little, but it could be worse. I mean, yeah, I lost a chunk of my brain, of my abilities as a Scanner, but I got you and the others back so...there's that. Not a bad trade-off."

"You didn't trade your brain for us, Les."

"Maybe not willingly, but that's what happened. Maybe what had to happen. How many times did Nines and 2B try before they finally got it right? Before the stars aligned or the gods decided to cut them a break? Either way, if given the choice…" He trailed off, leaned closer and laid a hand on 42S' original arm. "I'd still have picked all of you."

"Aw, Les…" 42S let go of Pod 219 to pull his brother into a hug. They held on for a minute, gesture expressing what words could not, until emotion subsided.

"Where I was going with that," 11S said, pulling back, "is that...that things happen and it's how you deal with it that's important."

"I don't know how to deal with this," 42S admitted.

"Well, there's two ways to look at it. One: it's an expired OS chip full of corrupted data. Short-term memory. Something that was likely to be lost anyway, so it doesn't matter. Throw it out. There's no reason to feel guilty. It's just junk.

"Two: it's the shared code of you and someone special. Something that never got a chance to be anything more. Something you never knew was there, but still saved your life. They matter, and deserve to be remembered even if it's only by you."

42S looked over at the bedside table. Reaching, he took the little tin and held it in his lap.

"I don't know why this is so hard. It's just ashes, right? An incinerated chip. It's not like what happened with Nines. Why does this bother me so much? Why does it hurt?"

11S took his brother's hands, folding them more closely around the tin. "Because your heart's already decided. It's just waiting for your brain to catch up."

Scrunching his eyes closed, 42S tried to breathe, tried to force himself to be calm, but the tears were already running down his cheeks. Rather than fight it, when 11S put his arms around him, 42S leaned his head on his shoulder.

"I'm so sick of crying," he sniffled. "I'm just so tired… Everything feels so much..."

11S rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back. "Yeah. It sucks."

"So… So she's not just a burnt-out chip. She's important. What do I do with her?"

"I dunno. We could hold a decommission ceremony for her? Maybe bury her somewhere?"

"I can't just dig a hole and leave her there! I know it's just ashes...but it's the ashes of my baby." 42S covered his face with one hand. "God, I sound insane..."

"No you don't. You're a parent who lost a child. You just want what's best for them."

"This is gonna sound stupid, but I don't want her to be lonely… If I bury her, she'll be left in the cold and the dark all by herself." And hell if he'd let that happen to anyone else.

"Then don't. Carry her around in your pocket if you want. No one's going to stop you."

42S looked down at the tin, smoothed his thumb over the cool metal. "Yeah. I guess I could do that. Until I can think of something better, anyway."

"Does she have a name?"

"No," 42S said quietly. "Not yet."