Nine had brought a full on picnic basket. It looked like it had been handwoven by someone, but John doubted it was Nine. There were even small paintings of flowers on it.

"Hey!" Nine greeted.

"Hi," John replied. Nine seemed weird for some reason, almost…nervous. "Are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, fine," Nine said quickly.

It wasn't like this was abnormal. John and Nine hung out a lot, but it usually wasn't planned. Is that what the deal is? John thought. Because this was planned ahead of time?

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Uh, I thought we could just start walking and pick somewhere along the way?"

"Sounds good."

They moved away from John's small house, walking down the path that led into the woods. The path was worn down from all the times John had walked it, but it split off many different times.

"How's Nigel doing?" John asked. He knew that Nine and Nigel were close and he was honestly worried about him.

"He's alright. Caleb has been helping him."

"That's good, they're a good fit for each other," John replied.

"Yeah…"

They walked in silence as they weaved around trees to go deeper into the woods.

"Malcolm brought Adam up the other day," Nine said. "Apparently he talked to them and he's worried."

Technically the Mogs in Alaska weren't supposed to get visitors, but Malcolm had been able to get around that a couple times. "He said he thought he made some progress." Malcolm had also tried to convince Adam to leave the prison a couple times, but he refused to abandon his species.

"How worried?"

"Malcolm always says that they seem lonely. But he said they seemed even more so on his last visit, so he's pretty worried," Nine sighed, then said in a quieter voice, "he doesn't want him to hurt himself."

John had subconsciously taken the path that led to the small graveyard in the forest. He could see it coming up, exposed in a small clearing.

"What does he think we should do?"

Nine shrugged. "I don't know, he just seemed to be venting."

"Hm," John hummed thoughtfully. "You should ask him about it."

They walked closer to the graveyard and Nine looked at it like an old enemy. John watched him out of the corner of his eye.

There wasn't any door or gate to signal the start of the graveyard, but one would know when they got there.

There weren't a ton of graves, but enough to be depressing. Human garde students had been lost in the fight, Ran being one of them.

John walked up to it, looking down at the candles in front of it. He knew that Nigel would come down here and light them; he even stayed out here for a week once.

John sighed, then walked a couple steps to the right. There was a small grave with Sarah's name on it. Of course, she wasn't really here, her body had been buried back in Ohio, but John had still made one for her.

"Do you believe in an afterlife?" John asked, looking back at Nine, who was standing a couple feet away.

"I dunno…Six said something about Eight coming back for a bit and he mentioned that there is. I'd like to go where he is."

"Yeah," John said, looking back down at the small grave.

There was a time where he wanted to join Sarah in death, leave everything behind and try to find her in whatever afterlife was waiting for him. Now, he wasn't so sure. The people here needed him, to some degree, and he was finally beginning to heal.

He felt a drop on his cheek and realized he was crying. He blinked, making more tears fall. John thought back to the war and the invasion and now there was this. The foundation. Couldn't people just leave them alone?

"It's so stupid," John muttered.

"Mm," Nine grunted, sounding close.

John turned to see that he had dropped the picnic basket and walked over to him. Nine awkwardly put an arm around him and shuffled closer. John wrapped his arms around him in a hug and broke down, sobbing into his shirt.

John felt Nine tense up, obviously not sure what to do.

Soon, he wrapped his other arm around John and pulled him closer. He rested his head on John's.

"Why can't they just leave us alone? Why is there always someone out to get us? I don't want to be fighting a new war every other year!" John said, voice muffled from Nine's body.

"I know," Nine replied, hugging him tighter.

John cried for a little longer, thinking about everything he could have done differently. About all the people that hate them for no good reason.

Eventually, John pulled away from Nine, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He looked down at Nine's shirt, which now had a bunch of wet spots on it.

"Sorry," John said with a teary smile.

"You're good," Nine replied. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of John's head, making his heart speed up. "I've had worse first dates."

"We're on a date?"

"Uh…" Nine's face flushed red and he looked like panicking. "I mean… yeah?"

On a date, John thought, with Nine. Somehow the thought was nice.

John looked down at the grave at his feet. Sarah. He smiled for what seemed like the first time in years, but Nine had a way of making him do that.

"Yeah," John said. "I don't mind that."

Nine looked at him like he was going to take it back. "Oh."

John leaned up and pecked Nine on the lips before he could think about it. His face heated up, but he walked past Nine and to the picnic basket on the ground.

"I'm hungry, what did you pack?"

John turned to see Nine staring at him, looking like he was in a daze. He slowly walked up to John and cupped his face in his hands. "Can I kiss you?"

"Uh, y-yeah," John said.

Nine leaned in, pressing his lips softly against John's, who wasn't quite sure what to do. Nine's lips were rough, but not unpleasant. Nine kissed him a little more forcefully before pulling away.

John smiled up at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."