This is the last chapter. Thanks for reading!

"The man was Takehashi Oni, like you suspected Major, formerly in the military." Ishikawa consulted the tablet in his hands as the briefing room screens flashed an army profile. "He was a sergeant during the peninsular war in 2024. Late in the war, he was taken hostage and brutally ghost hacked, and then sent to kill his buddies."

"Did he succeed?" The major asked after a moment of silence.

Ishikawa sighed. "Partially. He killed four out of his unit of twenty, injured six more before another private sacrificed himself to do a brain dive and force a reinitialization."

"Well, that explains his hatred for the refugees," Togusa said, "but why attack the party – there was a refugee representative from each district, sure, but the vast majority were citizens of Japan."

Ishikawa shrugged. "That we don't know – and we couldn't get it out of him. One of the inspectors said he showed signs of schizophrenia and dementia. We do know that he got his firewalls from the military database directly. As an ex-soldier he had the right to get into the facilities, but he shouldn't have been able to find the barriers or copy them."

"There're signs of hacking in the database," Bomer interjected, "but it was skillfully done."

"He's got the resume though," Ishikawa said, "his unit was known as Hack and Slash 29. They would set up raid networks and access enemy databases to find plans, weapons holds and prisoner camps." He shook his head. "I checked everything I could think of, but I couldn't find any larger plans or set-ups. He seemed to have been acting on his own and in desperation."

"A misguided sense of revenge, coupled with an ability to carry it out." Motoko muttered, frowning. "And we were caught in the cross fire.

There was a pause, everyone but the major stealing a glance at the place where Batou would have been – had he not been in a hospital at the time recovering. It had been seven hours since the incidents and while all of the victims, including Togusa's wife, had physically and cybernetically fully recovered, Batou had still not woken up. The screen switched off, the debriefing obviously over, the case closed – for the most part.

The chief didn't even bother to dismiss them. The team allowed the Major out first, but she barely even noticed as they filed out behind her and disappeared. Only Togusa did not exit the building, trying to follow Motoko casually as she made her way to the break room.

She had sat down with a cup of coffee before sighing. "What is it, Togusa?" she asked without looking at him.

He jumped slightly. Logically, he knew that he could never sneak up on her, but he hadn't expected such a sudden question. "I… I wanted to thank you. For saving my wife." He shifted, wishing his conscious had just let him be at peace without having to go through this. "I don't know what I would do without her."

She opened her mouth to reply, and then reheard his words. She closed her mouth, mulling over the thought. "I know what you mean," she said finally, staring out the window. It was six in the morning, cars filling the street like ants below her. She got up, leaving the still steaming coffee to spread fog on the window. "You should go home," she said, and smirked, "Kurutan is probably wondering what's going on."

Togusa bit the inside of his cheek as the major walked past him, obviously distracted. He wouldn't mention that his wife was already at home, the nurse sent home with several large bills, an explanation, and many thanks. His son and daughter were probably still asleep. But the Major's mind was elsewhere. He had a feeling he knew where, but admitting it, even to himself, was probably not the wisest of choices.

When he looked up next, she was gone. Sighing, he dumped her leftover coffee into the sink and threw his coat over his shoulder. It was time to go home and get some proper sleep.

Getting into the hospital was simple, she needed only mention that she was from section nine and the nurse let her in. Motoko decided that she must have been AI – only a robot – or a very good actress – could have shown her to the room without once giving her dress a second glance; in all the investigation, interrogation and worry, there had been no time or thought to changing. She sighed as she sat down beside Batou's bed, the tortured satin rustling as if it were still new.

Batou's coat was hung on the side of the bed. She wondered who had thought to keep it with him as she fished for her gloves and earrings. They were still in the pockets he had held open for her, gloves clean white and sparkling. She smirked, strange that the gloves had survived the night while her dress was – compared to its former glory – in shambles. The heavy blue satin was wrinkled all over, the bottom in some amount of tatters. Around her knees tiny threads had come out of the fabric and the tiny white beads that decorated it with a sweeping flower patter up one side were coming out.

She sighed, almost sorry. She had liked the dress, as much as she could get attached to clothing. Now she knew it would just remind her of the things that had happened while wearing it. It wasn't like she would have this problem with a normal combat outfit, she thought, just…

She propped her elbow on one knee, resting her chin. She had to admit that she felt guilty that Batou had been forced to take something of this caliber for her, something that could have been prevented, had she really thought about it. She had never seen such a form of offensive firewall – but it didn't give her an excuse. To some extent, it galled her that it had been a crazy ex-military man that had caused all of the trouble, almost like a let-down. Perhaps, if it had been a credible hack, instead of someone using another's tricks, she would feel less responsible.

She smirked. Then again, maybe not.

A machine beeped, and she sat up, glancing at the read out. Still the same. She looked at Batou, wondering how far along in rebuilding his barriers he was. The hospital's wing was completely shielded from the net – it was especially reserved for those who had been remotely hacked or were in danger of remote hacking. When they had gotten him here, Batou had been at a peak of vulnerability. He was probably better off now – it had been almost seven hours since she had taken down the reverse barriers.

She returned to her vigil, unwilling to go home and come back later. It was the least she could do to be there when he finally came back to functionality… and to be honest, the wish wasn't totally a sense of duty.

And so, she waited. It was nearly ten o'clock when he shifted and groaned. She blinked, glancing up to find his face turned toward her, eyebrows knit together. "Major?" he asked, as if not sure it was really her.

She nodded once. "You gave everyone quite a scare."

"Yeah," he replied, sitting up slowly and rubbing the back of his neck, "gave myself a scare too." He glanced at her. "Must have been quite something if you're telling me, though," he commented.

She smirked. "I couldn't connect with you even a minute after the attack. It was quite something."

He twisted to face her, concerned. "But you're alright?"

"Yes." She paused, eyes falling to the floor. "Thank you."

There was a pause; she could almost hear the room fill with silent replies, ghosts of paths they could take at this moment. He reached out, brushing a still smooth part of her dress with light fingers. "How long has it been? You haven't even changed."

"About eleven hours since the incident itself – a little more than ten since the firewall sent you on introverted…" She paused, something in the back of her mind suddenly remembering the moment she had come back to herself from the trace. A small voice insisted that she had missed something very important, and she trailed off, looking up at him.

Even without physical eyes, his face was very expressive, and the memory of being wrapped up in his ghost washed over her. Her mouth involuntarily opened in shock. Had he really…

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, "I shouldn't have…"

He was supposed to be talking about the firewall, but they both knew that was a lie. She closed her mouth. "It's… all right. I only object because we should have been more careful – but given the circumstances," she stopped, meeting his eyes.

There was a long moment of silence, silent declarations and questions permeating the air. Then Batou sighed and looked away. "We are owned," he said, "the government's dogs…First and second in command." He paused. "I'll protect you, always, as much as I can hope to, anyway."

"I know," she replied softly. "So will I, as much as I can."

Tired, emotion laden silence fell as they brooded together; the closest they could permit themselves to be. She could have felt cold… maybe cried for what they couldn't have… but there was nothing to be done. She rose and turned to walk out, and in the same moment, he slid off the bed, half standing to grab her hand and pull her back.

"Motoko," he whispered, giving her half a moment to push him away, turn him back, anything – but she couldn't, and he covered her lips with his. She responded gently, sweetly, closing her eyes and resting the hand not captured by his palm down on his chest. His hand tightened, trying to feel every callus on her fingers- savor every sensation and commit it to memory because in a moment that's all it would be… a memory.

It came to an end like a dream, still lingering on the edges of their senses. He slowly let go of her hand. There would be no expectations… not in this lifetime. His eyes settled on her face, shocked to find tears there, but she blinked them away as she stepped away and turn back to the door. Half way out, she glanced back.

"Goodbye, Batou."

And she was gone. He sat down on the bed hard, staring at the white gloves she had left on the bed stand. A song from the next room filtered through the wall – soft and melodic as if to mock the words it spoke;

Everything I tried to do it didn't matter

Now I might be better off just rolling over

'Cause you know I tried so hard, but couldn't change a thing

And it hurts so much I might as well let go…

The gloves sparkled in the sunlight, white and pristine, and he didn't dare to touch them. When he finally got up to check himself out and go home – he left them. They were part of a memory that he wanted… but shouldn't have.

FIN.

… yeah. Blame one of my reviewers – they said 'tragic closeness' and the words just stuck.

The song that Batou hears at the end is from the second OST – 'What's it For?' sung by Emily Curtis. It fit so very well I couldn't do anything else.

I'd appreciate a review – but in any case I hope you enjoyed reading the darned thing. Thank you and good day.