Luckily for them, the Surge Protector hadn't been there to stop them. Why not, Felix had no clue. He could only guess it was because he was busy.
The tram shuddered to a halt, and Felix was noticeably more relaxed now. He even hopped out of the tram-car with his characteristic 8-bit sound, and offered his hand out for Tamora to take. Everything was quiet, like it had been the last couple of days, and he could only assume that Ralph was still in Sugar Rush with Vanellope. But a little quiet could do them all some good right now. The two of them walked the short distance to their house and allowed themselves in.
"This is much better." Felix said with a sigh of relief and a light laugh, closing the door behind them and turning back around to smile at his wife. This day had been one of the longest he was sure pretty much everyone in the arcade had experienced in a while - and he was more than ready to just sit back and relax.
"Sure is," she replied. She parked it in the nearest chair and began removing her boots, since she couldn't exactly wear them if they chose to lay down. Once they were successfully off and stationed by the front door, she padded into their bedroom and sat on the bed.
The incident with Stevens had yet to leave her mind, and she doubted it would for the remainder of the evening. At least now that they knew what the virus was capable of, they would be able to effectively prepare themselves against it. Even if that meant sedating all of the soldiers that were sent to the infirmary, just to avoid brutal outbursts or unnecessary deaths. No one else needed to die, in spite of the fact that they could regenerate.
Heaving a sigh that tossed up some of her bangs, the blonde laid back on the mattress and curled onto her side. Up until that point she had been steadily ignoring the crippling ache in her body and head, and especially that godforsaken fuzzy buzzing in her ears; out of all the symptoms, she despised that one the most.
Away from her men, she was free to step out of character and bellyache a bit - though neither happened to their full extent. If anything, she just lifted up her hands and massaged her temples, since they were pounding like war drums.
By the time Felix removed his own shoes, Tamora had already moved to the bedroom. Placing his smaller footwear neatly beside hers, he move to follow in after her. He looked at her in concern before moving to hop up onto the bed.
The bed shifted only slightly as he moved to sit down next to her, and he smiled down towards her. She could have been doing anything, and she still would have been beautiful. He couldn't get over it sometimes. But it was rare to see her show signs of discomfort, even when it was just them. He moved his hand down to rest on her head and gently moved his fingers through her hair, in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture.
"Are you alright?" He questioned. He knew she had a lot to be upset about. Her game was going haywire, his game wasn't doing too great either - heck the entire arcade was in a state of apparent quarantine. Not to mention that she might have been starting to feel some of the symptoms herself. It might have been rare, but she had every excuse to let some of her concerns out into the open; in fact, she may have needed it more than the rest of them.
Were it anyone else she wouldn't have hesitated to grab the corresponding wrist, break it, and then shove her gun into the daring individual's face. But since it was Felix, well…it was fine. She slowly lowered her hands away from her head as she opened her eyes, gazing up at him.
Even in the dim lighting of their bedroom his eyes were shining with love and warmth - something that made her stomach do stupid, embarrassing summersaults. She didn't know what she was going to do with him. Or without him.
"Feels like I took a hit to the head," she replied, frowning. The blonde shifted in her position, so she wasn't lying on her side anymore. She laid on her back instead and rested her head on Felix's lap while continuing to look up at him; her fingers extended, gently brushing his cheek before ghosting over his lips.
Her brave little soldier.
More often than not, Tamora believed that she didn't deserve Felix. She'd done absolutely nothing in her life that should have awarded her the nicest, most considerate husband in all the gaming world. He understood her in a way that should have been illegal, could calm her in a manner that rivaled that of a parent soothing their frightened child. A darker, weaker part of her psyche occasionally tried to convince her that one day he'd tire of her hectic lifestyle (or her in general) but that was when she set those pesky insecurities on a table and shot them to pieces.
"You seem to be holding up alright," the sergeant observed. "At least better than the others." She'd noticed that Felix wasn't as bad as Ralph or the other Nicelanders. Perhaps being a 'good guy' pacified his condition. Or maybe he was just lucky.
"I'm doing alright," he answered back, "It comes and goes." He recalled earlier that morning his head had felt like it had been wrapped in a blanket in a hot sauna, and while he had been chasing Ralph his headache had spiked up almost to the point where he couldn't focus. His symptoms seemed to increase exponentially whenever he was put under pressure or stress - which wasn't good for the workday. But the one thing that never seemed to cease was that annoying static-sound that was constantly buzzing in his ears. "And I hope the others are doing alright. They seem a little on edge. Though I can see why." He told her, "And Ralph - I hope he's doing okay." He was still in Sugar Rush, as far as he could assume. If he'd said he wasn't worried about Ralph, he would have been lying. The big guy seemed to have it the worst, in terms of how badly his symptoms were affecting him.
"I'm sure Wreck-It is toughing it out. Him and Schweetz are stronger than a pair of stubborn jawbreakers," she commented, thinking of their friends. Both of them wouldn't be taken out easy, let alone surrender when it came down to the nitty-gritty. And even if they did the sergeant planned to be there, protecting them at all costs from the virus that was so fiendishly eager to ruin their lives. It was her foremost duty.
But she'd think of that later. For now, her attention was targeted on the sweet man stroking her hair.
Though the plan was to dedicate the next few hours to basking in one another's company, it was also the last opportunity they'd have to spend time together. Come tomorrow, it was do-or-die time. She would wipe any semblances of emotion off of her mental slate in order to give it her all. There wouldn't be time for loving looks or caring caresses. Only forceful focus and strong strategies. But before she adorned this harsh behavioral routine, there was something she felt compelled to do - something that would grant her a settling piece of mind in the ugly face of a viral Armageddon.
Without saying anything, she reached for the dog tags that hung around her neck; the small metal plates jingled as she wrapped them in the palm of her hand. Then, with a firm tug, the chain snapped off. Her other hand then came to life and assisted the first in situating the tags around Felix's neck, so that he was now the one wearing them. Predictably, they were a bit longer on him than they had been on her, but that didn't matter. The purpose was still evidently clear.
"I want you to hold onto these for me, Fix-It," she told him, patting the tags against his chest. "Keep 'em safe."
Her words and feeling of her hand patting the dangling tags, made his own hand reach up and turn them over in the palm of his hand so he could see them better. Her name glinted off on them, a stunned silence came over him as he realized what she had given him. A wonderful warmth spread across his chest, and he closed his own hand around it, nodding down at her with a smile. "Can do," he told her, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her pixie nose. He would have preferred her lips, but he was enjoying this rare opportunity he had to look down at her for once.
He was also by no means an expert on the symbolism behind being presented with a gift such as that - but it touched him nonetheless. It also unnerved him slightly. If one of his guesses was correct, then he could assume that they wouldn't be seeing each other for a little while... Not too long he hoped. But, this wasn't a parting gift either. It couldn't be. "At least until you come back for them." He added, moving to rest a hand gently on the side of her face. She would be coming back. He believed wholeheartedly that she wouldn't give up until this arcade was cleared of whatever this virus was; and he would keep those tags safe for her until she did.
Felix's last statement went intentionally unanswered. She remained silent and gazed into his eyes before turning her face into the hand that rested on her cheek; she kissed the center of his gloved palm once and then set her head forward again, sighing.
"Finding a cure isn't cutting it. This virus keeps changing its genetics on us," she said, speaking her thoughts. "The only other option we're looking at is a mass reset." Though, even that would have its consequences - consequences that made her sick to her stomach. "That would mean that every game would be set back to its original factory setting."
The virus would be free from their systems, but…everything else would be gone.
Everything they'd worked for together, had achieved and created, would no longer exist. This included she and Felix's marriage, Ralph and Vanellope's friendship, and even Ralph's general acceptance in the arcade. Every single lasting memory would disappear from their codes forever without a single trace, as well as the possibility of restoring it.
And given that it was highly unlikely that the Sugar Rush incident would repeat again and they'd all establish their friendships and relationships as they had, it was truly devastating. Because in the end…
"We'd all forget."