Hiya folks! Here's the last chapter here. Thank you for reading!

Thanks again to Jaywings and Pinky G Rocket for beta-reading! You guys should check out their fics sometime! I'm not sure if Rocket's here, and I know Jaywings got locked out of her account, so if you guys want to read their stuff, head over to AO3. It's good! (Also remember I post more stuff to AO3 than to here, soooo...!)

Let's go!

The real world came back into view.

Oleander blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the bright white lights of the interrogation room once again. His face felt wet, and a maddening itch was clawing at his back. He went to scratch it, only to find himself tugging against restraints. Oh, right...

As his vision returned, he noticed Sasha and Milla making their way into the room, the former flipping through some notes. That confused him until he recalled they had disappeared past a certain point, and Cruller had stepped in. Cruller was nowhere in sight now—must've gone back to watch the kids and called Sasha and Milla back in to wrap this up. In whatever way it would be wrapped up, anyway. They took their former seats across from him, and Milla used TK to retrieve her Psycho-Portal, drawing it back into her hand. For a while, they sat in silence. Sasha continued to read over the notes and, Oleander assumed, relayed them to Milla, who was nodding occasionally.

Finally, Sasha set the notes aside and looked up.

"So, uh." Oleander paused to clear his throat. "Are we done?"

Sasha nodded. "After an extensive mental evaluation, we believe we have roughly enough evidence to make an accurate conclusion."

"So what's the word?"

Milla straightened in her seat. "The two of us have decided—"

"Two?" Oleander frowned. "What about Cruller? Are you not taking his word on this?"

"Agent Cruller was not involved in any way in this process. He is not authorized to conduct evaluations or to be involved in official Psychonauts business of any kind whatsoever, short of Whispering Rock operations," Sasha responded automatically. Meanwhile, Milla winked at Oleander, who gave a small smile.

"Heh, all right. So what's your word, then?"

"Like I was saying, Sasha and I have decided that based on what we've seen of you and what we've seen of your mental world..." She trailed off, looking at Sasha. Oleander bit his lip, his gaze darting between the two of them.

Sasha nodded. "We've come to the conclusion that, after a probation period, you should be fit to remain working for the Psychonauts."

"Oh thank goodness." Oleander leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. The tension within him evaporated so quickly he nearly fell off, and scrambled to sit straight again.

"However," Sasha continued, "I will need to send this report to Truman—or Hollis, more accurately—for them to make the final decision. But I feel they'll trust Agent Vodello's and my judgment."

"Good to hear!" Scooching forward in his chair, Oleander leaned toward them. "So we're done, right?"

Sasha held out the notes again, flipping through them quickly. "Hmmm, not quite. For the sake of completeness, I'd like to run a few physical tests on you to attach to the report later."

Oleander groaned. "Really, Nein? How can I be sure you're not just using me as a guinea pig for something or other?"

"The more complete the report is, the better it will look to Truman and Hollis. Unless you do not wish for your chances of retaining your employment to be boosted—"

"Fine, fine, I get it. We can do it later—just—" He wriggled against his restraints, gritting his teeth. "Get me outta here already!"

"Of course, Morry!" Milla said, hopping off her beanbag chair and using TK to grab a key (which had a small piece of psitanium embedded in it) out of one of Sasha's pockets. She brought it over to Oleander, unlocking the restraints, which cracked open, allowing him to stretch his arms.

"Finally!" he cried, shaking the numbness out of his arms and scratching his back. "These things are awful. Ugh." As he rubbed his face, a memory of sneaking these very same types of restraints over to Thorney Towers struck him. He paused, looking up at Milla. She gave him a knowing glance, but said nothing to him, and he relaxed.

"They're not exactly made for comfort," Sasha remarked, standing and taking a drag from his cigarette.

After pulling the anti-psychic helmet off his scalp and wiping the sweat from it, he looked around for his own helmet, only to blink when Milla held it up to him. "Oh, thanks." Once his helmet was firmly on his head, he grinned. "All right, let's move!" He hopped off the chair—

—and his legs immediately buckled beneath him, his vision going black. He faceplanted with a groan.

"Take it slow, Morry," Sasha said, TKing him up off the floor and back onto his feet. He kept an invisible telekinetic grip on him, while Milla held onto his shoulder to keep him steady. "With the time you've been unconscious combined with our evaluation, you've been off your feet for over twelve hours now."

As his vision slowly returned, the room spinning as it came back into view before becoming steady, Oleander took a moment to gather his thoughts. Sasha and Milla, who had both been furious with him before, were now looking at him with understanding, of a sort. They hadn't seen everything, of course. But the fact that they'd been willing to go through this at all after what he'd done spoke volumes. He looked from Sasha, then to Milla, and sighed. "I'm sorry, guys. I don't know what I was doing there."

"From what you said in our interrogation and what we gathered from your mental worlds, you knew exactly what you were—"

"I know that, Nein!" Oleander snapped. "I meant... ugh." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Yes, I know what led me to all that. It was a lot of things. You don't need me telling you again. I can just… I barely believe myself, you know?"

"We all have our regrets, Morry." Milla rubbed his shoulder gently before letting go.

"Yeah. Good thing I'm feelin' 'em now and not while we were still in my mind. Would've made things harder than it already was."

"Though you remember who else you should be apologizing to..." she went on, looking him in the eye.

"Right, I wouldn't forget." Oleander scratched the back of his neck. "I'll address it to all of 'em before the end of camp."

"I'm glad to hear it, Morry!" And he knew she was, as she flashed him a genuine smile.

"I'd like to hear something else," Sasha said. "Namely, what you plan on doing once we've settled things with headquarters."

Oleander mulled the thought over in his mind and frowned. "I... I don't know if I want things to go back to exactly the way they were. Not that I don't want to run the camp, either." He gave a short laugh. "Someone's gotta train these soldiers! But I'd like to get involved in missions again... if they'd let me."

"I'll see what I can do," Sasha put in with a nod. "I'm sure after a probation period they might let you join in missions again."

Oleander brightened. "Great!" Feeling a bit more energy rush into him, he tugged at one side of his mustache in thought. "Was also thinking about some of the stuff I was doing while uh... I went a little off-course."

At that, Sasha and Milla gave a start, exchanging glances. "What were you thinking about?" Milla asked cautiously.

"Well, of all the stuff I did, the most fun was working on the tanks." Realizing how that sounded, he quickly held up his hands. "Uhhh, not that I wanna build a brain tank again! Was thinking more along the lines of something for the Psychonauts, not opposing them. Right? Something that could—"

"Let's just take things slowly for now, Morry," Milla said with an uneasy smile, while Sasha rubbed his forehead. "I'm sure you'll get your chance to work on other projects later."

"Indeed." Sasha waved them toward the exit of the interrogation room as he began walking toward it himself. "Let's focus on finishing up this examination and getting the reports to Truman first."

"Yeah, sure," Oleander grumbled, sighing in resignation as he and Milla followed their coworker (though he was relieved to recall that he would still be considered that). As they stepped out of the interrogation room and back into Ford's Sanctuary, though, he paused. "Hang on," he said, and Sasha and Milla turned to him. "Can I do one other thing first?"

"And that is...?"

The afternoon sun cast cool shadows across Whispering Rock. Oleander had to blink a few times, his vision still adjusting to the bright natural light. He heard birds chirping, bugs humming, and, in the near distance, the voices of children. As he walked one of the dirt paths, Sasha and Milla flanking him, he caught whispering on his blind side:

"It really is the coach!"

"Don't look like he's brainless."

"Dang, I owe Quentin five arrowheads..."

"You reckon they're takin' him to jail?"

"I ain't goin' nowhere, soldier!" Oleander snapped, whirling on the voices.

JT and Chops both yelped, leaping out from where they'd been hiding behind a log. "He saw us!"

"RUN!"

"Now hang on—"

But both of the kids were already bolting through the woods. Oleander sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I could've probably handled that better..."

Milla was already on it, hovering gracefully after the kids. "Children, it's all right..."

"Come on, Morry," Sasha urged, and the two resumed their trek through the forest.

Any other campers kept their distance, and Oleander wound up blinking and rubbing his eyes a few times when he thought he saw them appearing as rabbits. But the two of them remained silent as the trees thinned slightly around them and they approached the camp lodge.

Before they entered, however, Sasha held up a hand. "Perhaps it's best if you don't enter here just yet. Many of the campers are resting in the lodge, and we don't want more children panicking upon seeing you without explanation."

"...Right, I get it." Sighing, Oleander turned to make his way around the back. "I'll be out on the back porch."

"Very well. We'll be out momentarily."

Nodding, Oleander walked across to the back, which was, thankfully, devoid of any campers, though there was still a blanket laid out where some had been sitting earlier. He walked past it, taking a seat on the brick ledge at the end of the porch. From his perch, he gazed across what little of the camp he could see from here. The camp property was fenced off not far from here, but off to one side, he could spot the bridge leading to the kids' cabin area, where his own tree fort stood. In the distance, he could see Lake Oblongata, though it felt different. Empty. It didn't take him long before he recalled the reason for that, and he winced, sharply turning away.

It was a harsh reminder of what he'd done, and there'd probably be a lot more of those to come. But... he probably needed them, didn't he.

The back door to the camp lodge creaked open behind him.

"...and I was trying to tell them Linda wasn't going to eat them—er, eat them again, but they just kept—"

"Razputin."

"Right, sorry. What did you want to show me, Agent Nein?"

Sasha didn't reply, and Oleander turned around, rising up from his seat. Standing beside Sasha and gazing up at him eagerly was Razputin. He had the wired look of a kid who had gotten far too little sleep and was making up for it with excitement and psi-pops (as evident by the gnawed paper stick he was twiddling in his fingers). When Raz turned to look at him, however, he gave a start, nervous energy replacing the excitement.

"...Oh," he said, the psi-pop stick dropping from his hand as he waved shyly. "H-hi, Coach."

"That's not the proper way to address me, soldier," Oleander said, though without his usual harshness.

"Uh... yes, sir." Raz kicked at the ground. "Listen, sir, I'm sorry about—"

Oleander gave a start, raising a brow. "Sorry about what?"

"Well, that whole mess with... our brains getting all tangled up—"

"What're you doing apologizing for what I wanted to thank you for?"

"I—what?" Raz shook himself. "Thank me? But didn't I just kinda mess up all your plans? I mean, I was hoping you wouldn't really have those plans anymore now, after everything that happened, but—"

"No, no more taking-over-the-world for me," Oleander said with a half-smile.

"Great!" Raz exclaimed, his face brightening. "That's what I was hoping, but no one else really believed me when I tried to tell them you were okay now. They were all saying there's no way you'd be better after this, even Lili, and I was starting to wonder if maybe..."

"Ugh..." Oleander rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I get why they'd think that, after what I did." He lifted his head, looking Raz in the eye. "I'm... I'm sorry, Razputin. I shouldn't have done any of that stuff I did to you guys."

"Yeah, but it's okay now, right?"

"...Not really." Oleander looked away briefly, staring back at the horizon where Thorney Towers once stood. After a moment, he turned back to Raz, who gazed up at him in worry. "But it would've gone a whole lot less okay if you hadn't decided to throw a wrench in the gears. Sasha and Milla helped me sort things out, but they wouldn't have been able to do anything without you stepping in first." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Thank you, Razputin."

Raz's eyes widened, then he looked away with an awkward laugh. "No problem, Coach," he said, shrugging Oleander's hand away. He turned back to him with a genuine smile. "That's what bein' a Psychonaut is all about, right?"

After everything that had happened, the words struck Oleander harder than Raz probably realized. He let out a laugh, rubbing the heel of his hand at the corner of his eye. "Yeah, it really is, isn't it?"