Many thanks to BeaconHill, frustratedFreeboota, and themanwhowas for betareading.

Wildfire 9.5

I shut the door of my workshop behind me, my fingers drumming an idle rhythm on my armor as I considered the furnace. With Heartbreaker beaten, it would be a few hours before the Protectorate and Wards were ready for another operation. It would be some time before I could even decide conclusively what our next target would be. But that was no excuse to stop working. There was too much to do, and if nothing else, I could at least get some more work done on the Nine.

I hung Búrzashdurb on a rack and crossed over to the furnace, my soot-blackened hammer appearing in my hand as I went. The gold and mithril would likely be ready to pour into the molds by now. Where had I…?

I didn't even notice myself stumbling until I caught myself on the back of a chair. The hammer fell from my nerveless fingers, clattering to the ground loudly. My eyelids fluttered unbidden, and I forced myself to blink, hard, to clear my vision.

What the hell?

Exhaustion. I hadn't slept in almost two days, unless you counted that spell of unconsciousness after my memories had blasted a hole through the wall in my head. Had I even eaten? I didn't remember eating since dinner last night.

In the past twenty-four hours, I had remembered my nature, or some of it, had seen my father mastered to betray me, had cast off the chains I once bound myself with, and had destroyed the first of my enemies. I had been betrayed by the person I trusted most, and had won the loyalty of many who had no cause to trust me.

I lifted my left hand to my eyes as my right supported my weight. It was shaking, rattling in its gauntlet.

I guess I'm not quite the unsleeping Maia I once was. Not yet.

I collapsed into the chair, fumbling for the straps of my armor. Heartbreaker was beaten, the Protectorate and PRT were mine, and the rest would follow. There was time for some rest, if I needed it. I hadn't expected to need it, but I wasn't foolish enough to ignore the need before me. My body was my most vital servant, and I could not give it reason to betray me.

Not like Sophia.

I swallowed involuntarily, blinking away the flash of green eyes filling my vision. The wooden chair creaked as I leaned back in it, allowing myself a few deep, calming breaths.

It wouldn't do to forge the Nine, or any other great work, in this condition. But I didn't want to sleep. Sleep was less important for me than it might have been—it was just a condition the body forced on itself to recover, after all. I could recover without that handicap, if I made sure not to distract from the effort with other magic.

That left me with time to think.

My eyes found myself drawn to a long streak where the soot had been scraped off the wall in front of me. I remembered sliding down that wall, my armor screeching against the concrete as I fell. I remembered Sophia running over to me—but stopping herself just short of reaching for me.

I don't believe you.

I rested my face in hands that smelled of soot.

Sophia was a child, taught by a child. Her naïveté was almost admirable… and was certainly enviable. I remembered being just as naïve, barely a day ago.

But I had changed. I had remembered. I had remembered the slow creep of horror, over thousands of years, as I watched the Firstborn squander their gifts, as I watched the Secondborn kill one another for scraps of meat or acres of ground. I remembered the final moment of decision.

They're children, I told myself again, as I had then. What parent leaves their children to fend for themselves? I thought of Dad, still locked in an M/S confinement cell after his betrayal, and for a moment felt almost sick. They need to be protected—as much from themselves as from anything else. I may not be their Father, but I'm here. He isn't. And I will not abandon them.

I had expected Sophia to follow me. Not to understand—understanding would have to come slowly, as I taught her all that I had learned. But I had moved too quickly—out of need, admittedly—and had driven her away.

I had to respect it. She had become so loyal to the principles I had instilled in her that she already could not bear to betray them, even for me. But I had been a child, and those principles had been similarly childish. I was wiser now.

Nevertheless, I missed her.

I frowned down at my hands—my idle hands. "What are you doing?" I asked myself, and my voice rang around the workshop. "You say you shouldn't leave them to fend for themselves, and what are you doing now?"

The Wards had just been exposed to the horror of real war for the first time, and I wasn't there for them. A failure on my part, and one I needed to correct now.

I put my hands on the armrests of my chair and forced myself upright. For a moment I stumbled, before righting myself. It wouldn't do to show weakness.

"Annatar," said Aegis with a deferential nod. "Done with the forge already?"

I shook my head. "Decided the forge could wait," I said. "How are you all doing?"

His lips pursed. "Mostly okay," he said hesitantly.

"Tell me," I ordered gently.

"Chris hasn't left his workshop since the fight," Aegis confessed. "We're worried about him. Dean went down there earlier, but I don't think he made any progress."

"I should go talk to him, too. Maybe I can get through to him."

"What are you going to say?" Aegis asked, then hurriedly added, "If you don't mind me asking."

I frowned slightly. "I want to apologize for pushing him so hard," I said. "I stand by everything we did today, but… that doesn't mean it wasn't painful, and that doesn't make it any easier."

Aegis nodded slowly. "That's about how I feel about it, yeah." He hesitated. "You… you killed a few people today. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, shaking my head. "It's not… like that, for me."

"I know. You killed Bakuda before. But even so—"

"That's not what I mean." I shrugged. "Believe me, Carlos, I'm fine. Tired, but satisfied, and ready to get back to work after a short break."

"Okay." He considered me for a moment. "I really envy you sometimes, you know?" he said suddenly.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Hm? What for, exactly?"

"Envy's not the right word, actually," he said, glancing away from me. "I… respect you, I guess? I don't know if that's the right word either. I wish I was half the leader and fighter you are, but I'm really glad you're here."

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "I'm glad I'm here, too," I said, and it wasn't a lie.

For a moment we stood there, and then he huffed a rueful laugh and pulled away. "Look at me," he said wryly. "You're busy, I'm busy, and I still waste both of our time on shit like this. I'll let you go down and talk to Chris now. Sorry about getting so wishy-washy."

"You're only human," I said with a shrug. "Don't worry about it. Get some rest—we've got a lot of work lined up for the next few days."

He nodded. "We're cleaning up the city, aren't we? Heartbreaker's just the start."

"I've no intention to stop here. Do you?"

He grinned. "Not a chance. Keep me posted?"

"Of course."

As I walked away, grabbed a snack and headed to the stairs, the smile slipped off my face. Aegis wasn't terrible company, but he didn't understand.

I missed Sophia.

I rapped gently on the workshop door. "Chris?" I asked. "It's Annatar. May I come in?"

The faint electric hiss of some tool stopped. There was a momentary silence, and then Kid Win's voice called, "Come in!"

I took note of the strained undercurrent to his tone. Stress, clearly—not depression or anger. I would tailor my approach accordingly. I opened the door.

Kid Win was hunched over a workbench, a plasma torch in one hand and a half-constructed object in front of him. His face was turned away from me, but I could see the tension in his shoulders and back.

"Annatar. Need something?"

"No," I said, shutting the door behind me. "I came to see you. How are you holding up?"

"Fine," he said. The word was all-too-hasty, as though he wanted to spit the foul-tasting lie out of his mouth. "Just getting some work done."

I nodded, even though Kid Win was looking away. "I meant to do the same," I said. "But I decided I deserved a break, after today. Don't you think you do too?"

His fingers twitched around the plasma torch. "I dunno," he said, injecting a desperate lightness to his voice. "Maybe, but I'd just as soon get a head start on my work."

I allowed the silence to stretch for exactly five seconds before I replied. "Then you're made of stronger stuff than me."

The plasma torch dropped to the table with a clatter. Kid Win straightened up, rolling tight shoulders uncomfortably as he turned to me. His eyes weren't red. I hadn't really expected them to be. But they were a little bloodshot, and his face was a little pale. His mouth was set into a thin line. For a moment he just looked at me, as though debating what to say, before he spoke. "How did you deal with it?" he asked. "With Bakuda, and today."

I shook my head. "We're very different people," I said. "I don't think my approach would help you. How are you dealing with it? How are you feeling?"

He shuddered. "I don't feel bad," he said, and his voice caught on the words. "That's the worst part, I think. I keep running the whole thing through my head, and I don't know what I could have done differently. We needed to stop him. That woman had been trapped with him for who knows how long—without us, she'd have been given up for dead anyway. We won today, and I know we won, and I can't feel bad about it, even though I know I should."

"Why should you?" I asked gently.

"She was a human being!" he exclaimed, staring at me—not in surprise, but in supplication, begging me to give him an explanation to make sense of the world. "She was alive, and I killed her, just because she was in my way!"

I nodded. "And any one of them would have killed all of us, if they could."

"That doesn't make it right!"

"Of course not," I said gently. I had to be careful not to drive him away. "But right and wrong are luxuries, Chris. Do you think the people living under the cape warlords in Africa can afford to worry about right and wrong? Do you think people living in the heart of ABB territory, or Empire territory, can afford it? We're lucky we can ever take the time to moralize, and sometimes we just can't. That's war."

"We're law enforcement," said Kid Win weakly. "Aren't we?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?"

He didn't answer.

"Ours is a world at war," I said softly. "The villains exploit the common people, and the heroes try to stop them. It's a struggle for control, not of superpowers, but of ordinary, human power. Mastery over the land and its people. No villain is willing to use anything less than their full power in a struggle like that, and so neither can we. Thus it becomes war, no matter how hard we pretend otherwise. And war demands sacrifice—not because it's right, or wrong, but because it's necessary."

"Was it necessary?" he asked, meeting my gaze. "Was there a way to win where that woman didn't die?"

"Probably," I said honestly. "But we don't have the luxury of a time machine. We can't repeat a single skirmish over and over until we get the perfect result. We can only do the best we can."

"So you agree we could have done better."

"Did I say that?"

He blinked. "Uh, yes?"

"No." I shook my head. "I said there was a better possible result. But we did our best. You aren't perfect. I'm not perfect. We have to accept that. To accept that the outcomes we get when we're trying our best are the best outcomes. As long as we do that, try our hardest, we have nothing to be ashamed of."

He swallowed and looked away. "I feel like I should feel bad about it," he said. "I feel like I shouldn't… compromise like that."

"You'll kill yourself, going that way," I cautioned. "That way lies madness. You're a soldier, Kid Win. A warrior. And this was your first taste of the real war. Compromise is a necessity, if you want to come out the other side. There is no other way."

"I wish there was," he whispered.

"So does everyone," I said, remembering something another Maia had said once. Who was it? "But that's not ours to decide. Heartbreaker set his own course. All we can do is set ours. You'll never find the perfect path, and while you search Heartbreaker will move on, defeating you because you couldn't bear to win." I walked forward and put my hands on his shoulders. "Chris, you did good today. Don't lose sight of that just because there was a cost. Everything worthwhile has a cost."

He swallowed again and met my eyes. "Okay," he said quietly. Then, louder, "Okay. You're right. Thanks, Annatar."

"You're my teammate." I smiled. "I'll always be here for you if you're having doubts."

There was a chiming sound. My phone? I glanced down, fumbled in my pants pocket.

"Text?" Kid Win asked.

I nodded, looking at the screen. It was Dragon. Can we talk? I'm on the roof.

I smiled slightly. I had a feeling I knew what this was about. No rest for the wicked, eh? "Yes," I said. "Sorry, I've got to run. Someone wants a word."

Dragon wasn't happy with what I had done, I knew. But something told me she didn't care to chide me now.

I had planted my seed. Time to reap the harvest.