A/N: Well, it's been a little over three years. How are you all doing? Yes, I'm still alive. It's amazing what quarantine can bring back, isn't it? You have my deepest apologies for keeping you waiting this whole time. Life has changed quite a bit in these past three years, but I'm in a really good place now compared to this time in 2017. I hope you all are taking care of yourselves and staying healthy! Reviews are always appreciated, but never required. If you're still here reading this, kudos to you, and thank you very much! Now, let us resume.

Three days passed before Karla was finally retrieved from the medic tent. While she still struggled with movement, as was clearly expected from her injury, she found that she was less stiff, and brushed off any help that was offered to her in regards to moving.

I can do this myself, she thought in annoyance as she slowly made her way into the military vehicle. I'm not on the brink of death; can they stop acting like it?!

As the car began to move, however, she couldn't bring herself to even take a glance out the window. She never wanted to see this place again. Not after everything that had happened.

Not after…

The explosion rang out in her mind as it had so many times already, and she shook her head roughly in an attempt to rid herself of the memory. Her hands began anxiously moving in her lap seemingly of their own accord, her fingers shifting and intertwining over each other. Her broken one twinged with pain as she did so, but she paid it no mind. Her pain was nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Nothing compared to the pain of those who they had invaded…

She felt tears spring to her eyes, clouding her vision as screams tore through her thoughts, and she impatiently wiped them away with her good hand. She couldn't do this. Not here. Not now, not while surrounded by the few soldiers that were in the car with her.

This isn't the time for that. This can wait. It has to. Not until we're back.

But… back where?

From a vehicle, to a train, to another train, to the middle of the snowy north once again.

The redhead had left her original bandages on throughout the days of traveling; she had had no time to have them changed, but it wasn't as if she had wanted that in the first place. In her mind, there was no sense in letting anyone touch her. Not now, now that she had been tainted with the killing of an innocent… Why would anyone want to associate with her now? Why would she want to be associated with? Why…?

Now that she stood in the midst of North City, dressed in order to conceal her wounds, Karla sighed. Where was she to go now? She couldn't go back to Virnikov. That would be admitting that her mother had been right, that she wouldn't have been able to handle the military, and that wasn't something she was going to admit in a thousand years. She didn't think she had it in her to return to the fort either; it was as if she could hear the major general's voice in her head now, especially if she'd received any sort of reports about Karla's conduct in combat.

Of course you had to go and make an ass of yourself; I should get you reassigned to a different station.

Good lord. That was something she definitely didn't want to hear.

She sighed, glancing around. Perhaps she could start a new life here in North City, away from all the hustle and bustle of military life… oh, that was a foolish idea as well. Karla couldn't exactly blend in; she was sure that someone would notice she'd never returned. Maybe they would assume she had died in combat.

Do you really want that? You were only there, what, not even a year? Honestly? Do you want to just run away and hide at the first sign of trouble? You're better than that…

Her inner voice… was right. She was far too stubborn to just lie down and accept defeat like this. She may not have been able to return to Virnikov, but she sure as hell wasn't going to refuse her duties at Briggs. She would just have to learn to push everything down, she decided.

With that, she turned and slowly made her way to Northern Command. Her hand was throbbing in the cold, and the bullet wound in her side sent a shock of pain through her with every step she took, but she strove to ignore it, pushing against every urge to make even the slightest grunt as she moved. She was stronger than that. She needed nothing. Her pain was her own to deal with, and soon enough it would be gone, she knew. Locked away, just as she would lock away the past several weeks.

Upon entering the building, she approached the front desk. Withdrawing her pocketwatch from her pocket, she dropped it on the desk before declaring, "I need transport to Fort Briggs."

The soldier at the desk glanced down at the watch before meeting Karla's eyes. "Name?"

"Chernikova."

A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Karla scooped her watch back up and dropped it back into her pocket. Meanwhile, the other soldier turned away from her, presumably to make a call on the phone on the other side of the desk. Karla turned her back in response, for she had no interest in the subject of the call. Perhaps it was about a vehicle up, perhaps it wasn't; what difference did it make to her? Such small, insignificant matters were of no consequence to her.

Was this what it was like, attempting to distract herself?

Of course it was.

The less she cared about something like this, the easier it was to distance herself from the bigger matters. Perhaps if she could keep this up, she could be just as emotionless as she desired to be…

...and nothing will hurt anymore.

"Chernikova."

The voice tore her from her thoughts, and she turned. "Yes?"

"A vehicle is being sent; it will be here momentarily."

Karla merely answered with a nod, and without another word turned once more and headed back outside. Snow was falling now, as it frequently did; as it settled in her hair, she merely crossed her arms as best she could, staring blankly into the distance. However, she saw nothing in front of her. Her thoughts were miles away, doing their best to keep the more… troublesome ones away. Focus, she told herself. Focus on anything except that. Focus on… your alchemy. You have to become better at that, discover more about your style. You need to learn more than making mere weapons. Weapons can only get you so far –

"No," she muttered, feeling that darkness within attempting to surface once again, threatening to drown her in its familiar flashbacks. "I can't think of that. I won't think of that. I don't need to break here, god damn it."

Where was that damn car? The sooner it arrived, the sooner she could return to the fort, the sooner she could disappear within it.

However, moments later, it seemed some entity had heard her desires, for a sudden vehicle that bore the Amestrian military insignia on its doors pulled up, slowing to a stop in front of the building. Immediately, Karla clambered inside, though neither she nor the driver said a word to each other. Instead, the car reversed, turning until it was headed in the direction of the fort.

It was not long before Karla arrived, and as soon as she managed to slide out of the car, it drove off, leaving her outside the massive fort alone. Interesting, there was usually always someone out here. Perhaps she had merely missed a patrol. After a moment, she entered the fort, making a beeline for the workout room. She may not have been able to truly lift weights right now as she was, but she could at least distract herself. Besides, the longer she could evade the medics here, the longer she could evade the infernal prying questions she knew they'd ask her.

Her pace was slower than it usually was due to her injury, but she still made it to the room without anyone seeing her. Not that that was difficult to do with just how large the building was; it was common for her to not see anyone for some time. However, as she entered the workout room, her heart fell.

"Oh, fuck."

In the room, lifting weights, was the very last man she had wanted to see.

Captain Buccaneer replaced the weights on the bar over him before sitting up, and a giant grin cracked his face. "Was wonderin' when ya'd turn back up, Red! When your shit got here before you did, I started to wonder!"

Karla's eyes narrowed. No, she did not want to deal with him right now, him and his mysterious automail and his gruff voice and his muscles that always irritatingly seemed to catch her attention whenever she saw him in here…

"And that is my cue to leave," she said flatly, turning around to head straight back out.

"Like hell it is."

The redhead's movements stopped as she heard his footsteps approaching behind her. She turned again, moving her broken hand to conceal it behind her back. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking up at his massive form.

He positively towers over me…

What an odd observation to only be made now. Perhaps she had merely forgotten just how large he was.

"Ya can't just stumble in here lookin' like that and immediately leave, ya know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Looking like what, may I ask?"

"Look at ya, Red. Ya look tired as hell."

At that observation, Karla brushed past him and went to the closest mirror, taking a good look at herself. Well, shit. Although she hated to admit it, he was right: Her uniform was torn in various places, her hair was falling out of the bun she kept it in, and her eyes looked sunken in, with heavy, dark bags underneath them. She sighed, moving her hand back in front of her. As long as he didn't see it, she wouldn't have to answer anything about it –

"The hell happened to your hand?"

...Great. Why the hell does he notice everything?

She sighed, shifting her gaze from the mirror. "Nothing of your concern." If she gave him blunt answers, perhaps he'd leave her the hell alone.

"Y'should probably get the medic t'look at it. Shit doesn't look like it's been changed in a while."

For some reason, this statement got Karla's blood boiling, and she spun to face him, wincing at the sudden pain in her side.

"Will you shut the fuck up once in a while?!" she demanded. "I just came off a fucking battlefield, Captain! For fuck's sake, what did you think I was going to be when I came back? You're damn lucky I came back at all!"

Silence rang between the two of them, and she was surprised to find that she was struck with almost immediate remorse. Perhaps she shouldn't have said that…

But, to her simultaneous shock and irritation, the captain merely laughed for a moment. "There's that fire!" he declared. "Should've known they couldn't take that outta ya."

Karla's good hand clenched into a fist, though she kept it firmly at her side. God, how did he manage to be so infuriating all the time? "Are you done?" she asked through gritted teeth. "You had your laugh, after all. I don't see what there is to be laughing about, but that's just you, it seems."

Buccaneer approached her, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Ya know what? Since ya came back intact – mostly, anyway – I think ya've earned somethin'."

"Earned what?"

The smile turned into a smirk just then. "Ever drank before, kid?"