Well, I decided to re-write Stakelander's ending to make it fluffier. Purely for self-indulgent purposes.


The Hunter had gotten used to goodbyes, so used to them that he hardly bothered saying them anymore. By this point, Mister tended to assume anyone he met would be dead as soon as he turned his back. It was just one of the many harsh truths in Stake Land.

This though... This would be cowardness, not practicality.

Martin had grown a lot in the past year from the quiet, solemn boy who lost his entire family in one harsh, brutally unfair night. The one who dubbed the Hunter as, 'Mister,' and got the name to stick. The one who rarely spoke and clung to his new guardian like the man was a particularly surly security blanket. And he one who also absorbed information like a sponge, even if Martin was sometimes still too soft-hearted to use it right. He was stronger now, more confident. Martin had come face-to-face with the absolute worst the world had to offer. And, after crying an entire lifetime's worth of hurt and pain and loss out onto Mister's shoulder, he was ready to stand on his own two feet.

Now, as Mister watched Martin single-handedly kill a vamp to impress a girl, he knew it was time to leave. He loved the boy like Martin was his own, no matter how much he'd tried to resist it, and the Hunter knew Martin felt the same. The way the boy's eyes lit up whenever he saw Mister, the way he turned to him for protection and answers made that painfully clear.

And this was why the Hunter had to go.

If he stayed the rest of the way to New Eden, he'd have to explain to Martin how the Hunter always intended to leave the kid there, so long as it was safe enough. Mister would have to explain that he never intended to stay, that a quiet, peaceful sanctuary wasn't for him and never would be. Because, at the end of the day, the Hunter knew he was still too full of hatred and burning need for revenge to be fit for anything remotely resembling civilized society.

Martin though... Martin still had a chance. Even as he grew to accept the harsh reality they now lived in and learned how to deal with it, hope still lingered in the boy's eyes. Hope, warmth, and kindness that Mister was sure to poison if he stuck around any longer.

'They'll be good together,' the Hunter told himself as he watched Martin and plucky, capable Peggy sleep, curled up next to one another on the bed. 'She'll be good for him, far better than me.'

Mister had gone over the bar carefully, making sure there were no skeletons in the closet or corpses in the basement that could be sprung on them later. The place was clean, the girl was good, and while bar's supplies were dwindling, there was enough to get them over the border. The truck had gas, and rationed for two there was still some food for the trip even without hunting wild game. They could do this. Mister could leave them and be confident the pair would make it.

At least... that is what the Hunter kept telling himself as he kept packing and repacking his bag. To be sure he only took what was absolutely needed, so he could leave Martin and Peggy with as much as possible. Mister could survive off the land with little issue almost indefinitely, while the kids were still learning.

'It's better this way,' he reminded himself. Hesitantly, the Hunter reached out and brushed the fingertips of his damaged hand through Martin's dark, messy curls with a gentleness he never allowed himself to show the boy before. 'You'll poison him by sticking around.'

That was enough to force the Hunter out into the bleak, pre-dawn light, securing the door tightly behind him. He'd follow the road down south, back into the Stake Lands for a few hours. Not too long though, lest the boy wake up and try to find him. If Martin begged him to stay, the Hunter wasn't sure he'd be able to withstand those big, sad puppy dog eyes. He wasn't sure he'd be able to say no.

'So you're running to run like a coward and leave him wondering what he did wrong?' a voice that sounded distressingly like the Sister asked from the dark side of his mind. 'You're just going to abandon Martin like he was nothing to you?'

The Hunter flinched at the words of his own subconscious. No, he couldn't do that. The kid deserved better, better than Mister, and better than the betrayal of a non-existent goodbye. But life wasn't fair, and Mister was all Martin had.

'Could I leave a letter?'

No, Mister had never been great with words, and, in the time it took to actually sit down and write out his thoughts, the Hunter might talk himself out of leaving. He scratched the back of his neck with a sore, nearly useless hand, and his fingers brushed against the chain of his skull pendant.

Would that...

Yes, that would work.

Mister pulled the pendant off and stared into its empty dark eye sockets. He'd miss it; he and this little piece of jewelry had a lot of history. It had been his old man's, and his grandfather's before that, one of the few things Mister had left from his old life. But the Hunter had no future, so it was only fair that the pendant went to someone who did.

The boy... His boy... His son...

Martin.

The Hunter just hoped the kid didn't pitch the pendant into the woods, even if that was probably what Mister deserved. He hung it on the driver's side window and gave the bar one more look before starting down the road.

"It's for the best," he said, and did his best to pretend that he wasn't leaving because seeing Martin cry again would break his heart.

'Sorry kid, I'm just weak.'

The Hunter couldn't bear the thought of breaking Martin's heart. But, more than that, he couldn't bear the thought that one day one of them would make a mistake. That one day, he'd have to watch helplessly as Martin got torn apart by vamps, or have his throat slit by some murderous asshole. Even worse, that Martin might eventually get bitten and the Hunter would have to put his child down again.

No, for both of their sakes, it was better to leave.


Ten years down the line and Mister is cradling another dead girl in his lap. Once more, the world was crashing down around him and tears were trying to fall.

There was no anger this time though. No rage, no desire for vengeance, just bitter sorrow and pain that ached right down to his tired old bones. Why did this have to happen again? Why couldn't the Hunter save anyone? Why did he keep failing to protect those he loved? To protect anyone at all?

In the distance, the sounds of a horde of angry, hungry vamps were approaching. It looked like even Bat and Doc Earl's sacrifice wasn't enough to wipe them all out.

When would the world stop taking from him?

"I can't do this anymore, kid," he said, low and empty.

Defeated.

Martin glanced down the mountain trail, ears picking up the howls of the vamps. Then he realized... "Don't even think about it."

The boy's voice was shaky, half with anger, and half with fear. At the sound of it, Mister flashed back to the morning he left all those years ago. He'd snuck out like a coward to avoid having to hear Martin plead with him in a voice like this. Back then, the Hunter had left because of his own cowardness. And, once more, it was his own fear that spurned his action.

"I'll buy you as much time as I can."

'I can't watch you turn into me anymore. I can't keep losing any bit of happiness I manage to find in this shitty world. I can't keep failing,' the Hunter wanted to say. 'I can't watch you die.'

"No," Martin shook his head. "No, I'm gonna stay, and we'll fight."

'Oh, kid... You're the reason I still have hope for this world.'

"A man wants his son..." the Hunter said slowly, finally putting the love he'd felt for years into words he'd never been able to say. "...to be better than he is."

'I never deserved you, Martin. But I'm happy to have had you in my life all the same.'

Even through the fear, pain, disbelief, and anger, a warm joy lit up Martin's face plain as day. He leaned close, his hand coming up to clasp the back of the Hunter's neck as the boy pressed his forehead into Mister's. The Hunter closed his eyes and mirrored the action. He brushed his thumb against the pulse point of the boy's neck, a reminder that Martin was alive!

And, if Mister had anything to say about it, the kid would stay that way for a long time.

He pressed his hat into Martin's chest —one final reminder, one final gift, one final goodbye— and pushed the boy away. Looking him in those damned puppy dog eyes one last time, the Hunter started to tell him to get, to go and not look back, only for Martin to cut him off.

"Get off your high horse, you stubborn old bastard," the boy snarled. "You don't get to abandon me again. Not this time."

The shrieking of the on-coming hoard was louder than ever, and yet to the Hunter, it sounded miles away. Hi!

"Now you listen to me, boy! You get your ass up the mountain right now," he demanded. Now was not the time for the kid to have a fit of stubbornness. "This isn't up for discussion!"

"Well too bad, Pappy," Martin said calmly. "I don't gotta take your word as law no more, not since you left me behind ten years ago. I'm a grown-ass man, I can make my own path and I ain't letting the only person I have left in this world die without a fight!"

"No! I'm not having it!"

"I don't care. I'm not losing you. I'd rather die right here by your side than have to be on my own again."

'Damn you, boy! Why are you making this so hard for me?' The Hunter shook his head, "Don't you get it? I'm poison, Martin! I'm the reason your family is dead!"

"You're the reason I'm alive!" Martin shouted back, eyes wet and shining in the dim light. "And you're all I have left. So, if you really want to make up for what you believe you did to me, then get rid of this damn martyr complex and live! Live and stay with me! Live and stay and take responsibility instead of running away when things get tough again. Don't you understand that I want to stay with you? It's all I've ever wanted! I don't want to be alone! I don't want you to die for me, I want to mean enough to you that you'll live for me!"

Having finished his rant, Martin panted. He looked at Mister with those big brown eyes and said, "Please."

.

.

.

"Fine" the Hunter sighed, giving up. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to see Martin's elation. Mister hadn't done anything to be worth that much love. "You're a stubborn idiot, you know that?"

He heard Martin laugh. "Just like my old man."

Something in Mister's rough, tired old heart warmed. He knew the boy loved him, and had loved him from very early on. Maybe it was just a way of coping... transference or trauma bonding, something with a fancy sorta name like that. The boy's family had been butchered, and all his love for them shifted to the gruff, scary stranger who saved him, protected him, cared for him, and taught him how to survive. Things were different now though. Martin wasn't some young pup following at the heels of a bigger, more experienced hunting dog anymore. No, he was a man in his own right. Scarred and bitter, with his own collage of loss and suffering. He could survive in this world, Mister was sure of that.

This moment of happiness, like all joy in Stake Land, didn't last long. The snarls and shrieks of the vampire hoard were louder than ever. They were only a few yards away now, probably just around the bend in the path.

"We've got to go!" Martin said, pulling the Hunter's arm over his shoulders. "We've got to run!"

Mister considered telling the boy to leave him behind and run. Martin would never listen though, he was too good for something like that. So the Hunter just focused on moving and prayed for the first time in well over a decade that they'd be fast enough.

Thwip!

In the end, they didn't have to be.

In the end, the universe decided to do something good for once.

Mister turned just in time to see a flaming arrow pierce the heart of a ghoulish-looking vamp. The skin of vampires was dead and dry, good for burning.

"Rhhhaaaaa!" it shrieked, dropping to the ground as it withered in pain before going limp. Two more vamps rounded the corner. One tripped on the burning corpse and also caught on fire while the second fell to another arrow.

"Are you two alright?" a man, one of the guards that Bat and Doc had sent along to protect the civilians, asked as he jogged up to them, already notching another arrow.

"Feel like shit," they both said simultaneously.

The guard, Stephen, gave a dry chuckle before growing serious once more. "Bat and the Doc?"

The grave silence that followed said it all.

"Damn," the guard whispered, shaking his head. When a choir of snarls alerted them to the arrival of more vampires, he grew tense again. "Get on the ready!"

Three more guards scurried down the hill to join them in defending against the hoard. Mister pulled away from Martin and readied his stake.

Some things never changed.

With the sun on the horizon and a smoldering pile of dead vamps behind them, Martin, Mister, and the four guards caught back up with the main group.

The fight had been hard and bloody, but none had been lost, which was the most anyone could hope for in this situation. Lady had been buried properly, with the guard she'd slipped away from helping dig the grave through repeated tearful apologies. Mister had just waved them off. Lady had been strong-willed and feisty, and no one could make her do anything she didn't want to. The guard, Max, couldn't keep her from running any more than Mister could make her stay away from the fighting in the first place.

And now she was dead and gone.

It hurt.

Experience told the Hunter that it would always hurt, but he had more than his fair share of bloodsoaked ghosts. He could survive one more. He would have to for the sake of his last remaining child.

"Stop your fussing, boy," he grumbled, trying to bat away Martin's hands. The kid, stubbornly loyal and stupidly protective to a fault, was trying to support him as they walked. "I ain't dead yet!"

"Have you looked in a mirror recently, old man?" Martin asked, rolling his eyes. "You had one foot in the grave before last night so quit your complaining and let me help."

"When did you turn into such a disobedient smartass?"

"Blame yourself for that, Pappy. I'm just following your example." Martin turned to Stephen, who was doing his best to hide his chuckling at their argument. "What's this place we're going to?"

"The site of an old mining operation," the guard said. "Not the most comfortable, but it's enclosed by fences, easily defendable, and has a lot of hiding places for people. Vamps hate the cold, so they rarely wander that far up the mountain, and the vantage point means no one can sneak up on us. When one of the scouting parties found it about five years ago, Bat and Doc thought it would make a good fallback shelter, even if they hoped it would never have to be used."

"Yeah, that sounds like those too," the Hunter grunted, his heart aching at the thought of his two old friends. 'I'll make this up to you two. I'll protect your people from now on, as long as I can.'

"We should be there soon," Stephen continued. "We'll get you both patched up there. Doc was the best we had, but he's trained a couple of others for this exact situation. Always practical, Doc Earl was."

As they continued to trug further up the mountain, Martin and Mister fell back from the rest of the small group. When they were far enough away that no one else could hear, Martin spoke up again.

"So, are you going to cut and run in the middle of the night like last time?"

There was fear in the boy's voice, so much so that Mister nearly flinched. He knew that leaving would hurt the kid, but he hadn't imagined that hurt would have lingered for all these years.

Well, Mister didn't have a time machine; he couldn't turn back the clock and fix his mistake. He could, however, do his best to calm Martin's worry for his... for their future.

"Nah, I'm too old to keep running," he said. "Besides, these people will need help getting settled again. Have a voice of experience around. Staying is the least I can do after..."

He shook his head out. Bat and Doc Earl knew the risks, they understood the danger. The Hunter wouldn't spit in the face of their sacrifice by pretending otherwise.

"What about you? Are you heading back up north?"

A sad, bitter look passed over Martin's face. "No, nothing left for me there."

He didn't add, 'There is here though,' yet the Hunter heard it nonetheless.

"It looks like I'm stuck with you then," Mister mock-grumbled. "I suppose there are worse men to have by my side."

Martin laughed, a bright, happy sound that didn't fit in this cold, unfair world. "Like I said before: I got your back, Pappy. I ain't going anywhere."

Pappy...

For all it was a joke, the Hunter had to stop himself from grinning like a moron whenever the kid said it.

"But first..." he trailed off, eyes drifting upward as he noticed for the first time that Martin was wearing his hat.

Martin followed his gaze and blush bright red. "Sorry, I needed to free up my hands in the fight. Do you want it back?"

The Hunter took a moment to admire the man his son had become. Martin was still young with a slender build and annoying big doe eyes, but he cut an impressive figure now. A figure that was aided by the skull pendant and dark, wide-brimmed hat.

"It looks better on you," Mister said. Then, as a way to avoid the kid's beaming, he gave Martin an affectionate, fatherly smack on the cheek. The prickles of Martin's beard scratched the Hunter's palm. "First things first though, you've got to shave this damn rat off your face."

Another eye roll, this one coupled with a broad grin. One which reminded Mister of the smiles Martin used to give him all those years ago.

"Fine, but only if you promise to get me a puppy."

As the gates of the mining site came into view, Mister really, truly laughed for the first time in over a decade. "Sure, kid. Sure."

Both men had their scars, their ghosts, and their regrets. But they also had each other. Each other and tomorrow. Even in Stake Land, the dawn always came, and, god willing, father and son wouldn't have to say goodbye for a long time.