Unlike many of his peers who had fallen from grace, Hilary had not forsaken his calling to god in favor of carnal desires. Rather, he'd found himself restless, seeking the engagement of physical activity, yearning for the rough and tumble of the knock down schoolyard fights of his childhood. A wise Father and councilor at his seminary gently suggested that he trade in his collar for Captain's bars at Sandhurst. The fact that the Father in question had been a military man first and a man of the cloth second meant he was certainly in a position to know how closely similar the two callings could be in reality. And in the end, the Father had been right; Hilary was far more suited to a life in body armor than a life bound by the collar and cross. While both might be worn as a symbol and a protection, eventually Hilary learned the hard way that neither one could truly protect the heart. Abby and Connor's unexpected return had cauterized one of those emotional wounds. But the losses of Danny, Sarah, and so many others along the way were still raw beneath the armor. Perhaps that was why Hilary held everyone at arm's length; Armor might make one untouchable, but the wounds of loss scared regardless.