Hello!

Here is Chapter 14. I AM SO SORRY this took like... 3-or-so-years to do. I have no excuses this time.

I apologize. I hope you enjoy!


. . .

Tristan arrived at Safehouse Windmill.

The mission has been accomplished.

...

Tristan gazed around himself and saw the camp of refugees around Safehouse Windmill.

A familiar face remained next to another one, then another, then another next to that one.

He checked his weapon to make sure the safety was on for what was possibly the twelfth time that day.

"Are you alright?" Nearl asked.

"I'm alive." He answered, adjusting his rifle's strap around his body.

It didn't exactly take a genius to know that underneath the ball cap, Shemagh, and safety glasses, Tristan wasn't right.

"I'm fine." Tristan whispered with a paper-thin smile on his face.

He nodded his head and took a deep breath. He took a step forward only to be halted by a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Hellagur asked.

Tristan blinked, initially unsure how to answer.

"Never lie to a superior officer. Are you sure you are alright?" Hellagur nodded.

Tristan bit his lip.

"… I'm not." He whispered.

Hellagur nodded his head, acknowledging Tristan's answer.

"We're returning to the Landship for debriefing. The situation is contained, and we will assemble again for debriefing." He informed.

Tristan didn't reply.

"Will you be joining us?" Nearl asked.

"I-… I don't know." Tristan whispered again, giving a weak shrug.

Hellagur nodded.

"The decision is ultimately yours. To demand more from you after today would be unwise on our behalf."

Tristan nodded his head, disheartened at Hellagur's final statement.

The Hippogriff and Nearl took their leaves.

"You are coming tonight, right?" April's sudden appearance nearly made Tristan's heart jump out of his throat.

"You surprised me. What was that again?" He caught his breath.

"I surprised him?" April side-eyed Tristan with a raised eyebrow and a puzzled look.

She rolled her eyes and accepted it. "Yeah. Sorry about that." April moved on.

"You're going to be at the debriefing, right?" She repeated her question.

"I don't know." Tristan shrugged.

"Why not?"

Tristan took a minute to repeatedly blink out of disbelief.

"Why not?!" The question bamboozled him.

"I-…" Tristan took a minute for his brain to reboot.

"For-…" The answer to April's question that he thought would have been obvious, Tristan himself completely failed to find words and structure the sentence and communicate what he wanted to say.

"I-…" For a moment, Tristan's knowledge of his own language nearly blanked from his mind as he still tried to conceive of an answer to April's out-of-nowhere question.

"Well-…" Again, Tristan scrounged for words and basic sentence structure that had temporarily vacated his brain in order to make space to process the fact that the answer he already gave had just been questioned off of a whim.

"It-…" Eventually Tristan gave up trying to give an answer and found his response.

"What do you mean "why not"? I nearly-… I almost-… I was a liability. Through the whole thing." Tristan answered.

"I nearly got myself killed and I put myself and another person in danger because I wanted to play hero with a live explosive and didn't think things through! I'm not cut out for this. I'm not trained for this- at least not on a professional level, like you guys!" Tristan spilled the beans.

"I'm just…" He took a deep breath, hoping that satisfied April's question.

"I'm not-…" Tristian tried to follow-up his explanation, but the words wouldn't conceptualize.

April blinked, unsure how to answer back.

"Sir Tristan" Passenger stepped in.

"If it matters to you, you saved April and a civilian from an unknown explosive device."

Tristan looked at the rose-haired man, his expression hidden under his olive scarf and glasses.

"You successfully identified a trap and warned April. She could have died if you weren't with us this day." Passenger gave Tristan a smile.

Tristan, still disheartened, looked down to his feet.

"Though true you made a grave mistake, you still put other people's lives in front of your own. Assuming you still desire to assist us, we can provide you training, discipline, drills, and further education so you don't make these mistakes again."

Tristan bowed his head, understanding.

"I-… Thank you Sir, but I don't think I have it in me. I'm sorry, but-… I don't think I'm cut out for this – not anymore, I think."

April's jaw dropped.

Passenger chuckled, almost as if nostalgic.

"I understand, Tristan. However, I want you to remember this: You saved April today. You saved lives today, and if you change your mind, Rhodes Island will be there for you." Passenger concluded.

Tristan took off his hat and pulled-out his earpiece, setting it in the hat and shoving the article of clothing into the space between his shirt and plate carrier, under his Shemagh.

"Thank you, Sir." Tristan managed to audibly whisper, taking off his gloves.

Passenger nodded his head and left in the same direction of Nearl and Hellagur.

"Maybe later, but right now I just-…"

Tristan felt a lump in his throat before he could finish.

"Want to be with Coffin?" April finished his sentence.

"… Yeah. I promised her I'd be by her side. I want to be by her side." Tristan explained.

He took a deep breath, standing in the middle of the road, staring down the afternoon horizon as the very edge of existence where the forest kissed the grassland, far away into the distance.

Behind him stood the clinic.

"Why did I leave her? Why did I leave-…?" Tristan asked himself, not realizing he was thinking aloud.

April thought about answering the question for him but decided to say something else.

"We have more medical personnel on site at the clinic, so she should be free for the rest of the day if it makes you feel better."

Tristan's eyes lit up after he heard her words, gasping.

"What am I doing?" He blinked.

"What?" April asked.

Tristan turned toward her and smiled.

"I know what I need to do!" It was a soft, warm smile as April watched a tear fall down Tristan's cheek.

April blinked.

"Five minutes ago, the guy looked like he was on the brink of a mental breakdown. Now he's just beaming with joy. What's up with him?"

"And what's that?" She asked.

Tristan started heading towards the clinic.

"Wait! You didn't answer my question. What do you need to do?"

"I need to take Coffin for a- OH!" His eyes widened as he snapped his fingers and turned back around.

"Are there any good places for food? To hang out? Does Rhodes Island have- wait, no. That's your military base. Uh…" Tristan rubbed his chin and fumbled through ideas, stuck in a mental lock.

"Ooooooooohhhh!" April smiled, nodding her head as she had an epiphany of what Tristan was trying (and failing) to communicate.

"You want to take Coffin out for a date?" April asked with a smile on her face.

Tristan looked out to the cloudy sky and took a deep breath.

"Yes, but not just any date. No – Coffin only has so much time left, and I want whatever time I'm going to be in her life – be it years or months, I want this piece of her life to be her best!" Another tear fell down Tristan's cheek as he spoke.

April blinked, dumbstruck with disbelief, yet awkwardly joyful at what she just heard.

"You'd do that for someone infected with Oripathy?" She rubbed her shoulders, remembering her own situation.

"If I can, I'd do everything to be at her side 'till her last moments. Anything less and I'd rather die."

April heard Tristan's words.

She processed them.

"Does-… does he even know what he just said?"

She tried to laugh it off but couldn't.

"You're-… You're insane. You want to do that for an infected – to be by one's side when they-…?" She rubbed her eyes as she tried to keep her own emotions under control.

"If being a good person is insane, then I want to be nothing else." Tristan answered.

April chuckled, rubbing the sides of her face.

"You love Coffin that much?"

As Tristan stared into the cloudy sky, he took a deep breath and turned to April.

Tears streamed down his face as he opened his mouth to answer.

"Yes. Yes I do. And I'd do the same for anyone else."

The moment Tristan finished saying that, a light, gentile, chill sprinkle started falling from the clouds.

"Want to help me, April?" He asked.

April chuckled, caught in a conflict between being crying and laughing.

"Do I!" She answered, gently grabbing Tristan by his sleeve.

"What are we waiting for?" She headed for Safehouse Windmill, gently tugging Tristan's sleeve as he followed pace.


CHAPTER 14 – BLEEDING SCARS

Inside Safehouse Windmill Clinic, Coffin dug through her pockets and pulled out a photo from what felt like long ago.

COUSIN BARTHOLOMEW was scribbled on the back of it in black marker.

She flipped the photograph over, viewing the young man next to who Coffin assumed to be Tristan's brother.

Bartholomew looked identical to Zipper.

Coffin bowed her head and wept.

The front door swung open.

. . .

A young man of her same height dressed in an olive plate carrier, a blue Battle Dress Uniform and tiger-stripe pants rested his gun onto the couch beside his scarf, headset, pair of gloves, and his hat.

"Tristan!" She ran up and embraced him, short of nearly tackling him off his feet.

"Coffi-" As Tristan embraced her in turn, she pressed her lips against his.

Tristan returned her affection, pressing deeper into her as she pressed into him.

"I'm not leaving you ever again, and I'm sorry I ever left." Tristan whispered, looking deep into her eyes as she looked equally deep into his.

"I'm sorry too." Coffin buried her head into her shoulder as the two held each other.

"I want to do something special for you." Tristan stroked her hair.

"What is it?"

"Your coworker April told me of a place, with a beach, and food – a vacation spot. She told me that you'd love it, so I want to take you there." Tristan teased.

"Where?" Coffin asked, still holding Tristan even as the accessories on his carrier made themselves inconvenient.

"April told me the place was called Siesta." Tristan answered.

"Siesta!?" Coffin barely contained herself.

"For the rest of the month!" Tristan added.

"FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH!?" Coffin's eyes widened half with panic.

"BUT I-…"

"But I don't have that long…" A borderline primal fear caught her tongue, preventing her from finishing what she was about to say.

"Well-" April interrupted, leaning against the door frame.

"April! What are you doing here?!" Coffin nearly jumped out of her skin, surprised.

"Not that I mind! Just unexpected. What's up?!" Coffin added as she suppressed her chaotic emotional state.

"Well, as I was just about to explain to Tristan, a vacation is not that simple, I hate to say." April finished.

"There's still the clearance issue, but even if it doesn't get approved, there's something Tristan wants to tell you."

"What? What is it?" Coffin asked, half-exited, half-dreading the answer.

Tristan smiled.

"I quit being a Mercenary – for real, this time!"

"… Excuse me, what?" Coffin hesitated, still overwhelmed with everything else going through her mind.

"No more deployments. No more operations. No more duties or anything – just me and you, and I'm never leaving your side again Coffin. Never." Tristan finished.

"As long as we're alive, I'm not leaving your side ever again Coffin. I swear!" He pressed his lips against hers again.

. . .

Meanwhile, back on the Rhodes Island Landship at the Debriefing.

"What do you mean denied?! This is Coffin's big break, and you're just going to say no?!" April slammed her hands on the table.

"Her stage of Oripathy infection would compromise the safety of anyone around her, and Siesta is too far away to justify an R&R retreat shorter than a week." Kal'tsit answered.

"What about here on the landship? Surely Rhodes Island's R&R facilities can accommodate for those two for the rest of the month! And what do you mean by a week?!" April answered.

"I don't understand. This is COFFIN we're talking about! She deserves to be happy. What does everyone in that room know that I don't!?"

There was a deafening silence in the room that followed April's tirade.

Folinic broke the silence.

"Coffin's Oripathy accelerated. She'll be lucky to live past five more days, maybe six."

"… Five days?" April's heart sank at the news.

"-But Tristan…" She addressed but couldn't finish.

"He doesn't know either. Does he?" Occphhen answered.

April shook her head side-to-side.

Passenger bit his cheek then looked to Hellagur, then Nearl, then everyone else in the room.

None of them spoke a word, but they all had the same response.

The silence that followed that was somehow even more deafening than the previous.

Amyia broke the silence. "Then we better make every moment count – for Coffin."

"For Coffin." Hellagur nodded.

"For Coffin." Nearl joined in.

"For Coffin." Occphhen joined in.

"For Coffin." Passenger nodded.

"For Coffin." Kal'tsit nodded.

"For Coffin." Schwarz, Grani, and Franka joined in.

. . .

Back at Safehouse Windmill…

Tristan entered the medical tent, having left his weapons and ammo for them back in the cabin, wearing only his clothes and armor. He didn't want to scare anyone – especially the young girl kneeling beside a very familiar crippled figure as Coffin applied aid, alongside someone that Tristan hadn't met yet, but he overheard some people calling him by the name "Uncle Modric".

"They're alright!" Tristan's heart felt relief and leapt with joy as he recognized the girl with the bandaged throat and the father from the extraction zone.

Naturally, Tristan ran up to meet them.

"Hey! Is he alright?" He innocently asked, taking a knee near the bed cot.

Coffin bit her cheek.

No response.

Tristan didn't notice until now the girl was sobbing.

"I-…" Tristan blinked; his brain flat-out refused to process the situation.

"- Came-…" He felt as if he had completely forgotten how to speak as he tried to eek-out the sentence.

"- to return-…" He untied the doll the girl gave him earlier from his plate carrier, offering it back.

"This." Tristan finished his sentence.

Coffin blinked.

"Tris-" Uncle Modric gently set his hand on her shoulder.

"Watch." He whispered.

Tristan slowly set the doll onto the father's chest, waiting for the girl to grab it.

She set her hand on the doll, then buried her head onto her father's chest.

"… Papa" her voice faded into tears.

Tristan took a deep breath, then another.

"He's-…?" He looked at Coffin.

"Coffin, please for the love of [Profanity] tell me he's going to be alright. Please…" Tristan bottled up his emotions again, trying to fall back on his professional persona he developed.

Coffin didn't answer.

Tristan took a deep breath.

"He-… I-…" He wiped his face with his hands.

Tristan took another deep breath, rising from his knees and turned to the tent entrance.

"Tristain, wait-" Coffin reached out to him.

What greeted Tristan at the medical tent entrance was the sight of Tyv and a familiar Sarkaz, cradling an orange-haired child, pierced by many arrows.

The Sarkaz and Tyv were weeping.

Tristan took a step back before freezing, his eyes fixed on the child.

"Tr-… Tristian?" Coffin noticed.

Tristan started hyperventilating.

"What… do you… want?" Tyv eyed Tristian with a look that radiated pure hatred.

"Bar-…" Tristan still eyed the orange-haired body, still frozen in his tracks as every hair on his body stood straight on-end.

"Everything was fine… But then you came." Tyv finished before a hand set itself on her shoulder, prompting her to quit.

"It… wasn't your fault." The Sarkaz giant tried to offer Tristan comfort, but had none to give himself.

"… Bar-…" Tristan's hand slowly outstretched itself towards the body in the Sarkaz's arms.

Tyv's expression towards him changed.

"Tristan." Coffin tried to snap him out of it.

"Tristian, it's not him." She grabbed his shoulder and gently shook it.

"That's not your cousin." She reaffirmed.

Tristian turned to Coffin.

To her shock, Tristan's face was completely drained of color and reflected light from the tent from the tears that drenched his face as an expression of pure despair and dread had rested itself upon it.

"It's…" Tristan tried to speak.

"It's not him." Coffin reaffirmed again.

"I know." Tristan whispered, nodding.

"Then what's wrong?" Coffin asked.

Tristan choked as he tried to answer.

"My cousin had the same face." He squeaked.

"... You… too?" Tyv whispered.

"I'm sorry." Tristan croaked-out, leaving the tent.

"Tristan, wait! Where are you going?"

"Home" He answered, sniffling.

Coffin pursued after him.

Tristan doffed his plate carrier on the cabin porch (which Coffin put in the cabin itself for security's sake before catching up).

They passed the originium generator at the back as Tristan carried on his way to the house on the hill.

"Tristan, wait." Coffin yelled.

Tristan continued walking. The two arrived at the trail.

"Tristan, what happened to Barthollomew?" She asked.

Tristan halted.

"What happened to your cousin?" Coffin asked.

Tristan paused, taking a deep breath, and wiping half-dried tears from his face.

"New Mexico."

Coffin slowly walked up to her weeping lover and wrapped herself around his left arm.

"I-… They said it was-... but it-… the news-… nothing lined up… machine… Shiny black rocks…"

Coffin's heart nearly froze in her chest as she held her breath at the mention of that last one.

"Tristan, what happened at New Mexico?"

"… Protest. Bartholomew... was part… of a protest… New Mexico. The protest... unpopular. They wanted to use a machine... on the protesters… to hurt them..."

Coffin bit her lip, remembering what little of the Chernobog incident she was allowed to know - how Gummy would straight-up lock down when Coffin innocently asked one time why she keeps the lights on when sleeping, or why she and Zima came to blows because she prodded at whatever happened to her friends from before Rhodes Island, or the rest of those students.

Tears fell from Tristan's face as he tried to continue piecing the words together, tapping into the horrible memory. He said more, but it was barely intelligible.

Tristan kept going, pouring out everything and everything in an unintelligible mess of blabbering as Coffin nearly had to physically hold Tristan upright from how weak he became from recalling it.

Coffin pulled Tristan into herself as they continued to the house.

They arrived just as the sun was beginning to set over the trees and road as its light reflected into a glistening pond.


. . .

Hello. If you're reading this then thank you for reading Ch 14 of the fanfic. I hope this chapter was ok.

Thank you very much for your time. I do update my chapters to correct mistakes and inconsistencies.

Next chapter is going to be slice of life, and I'm going to be SLOWING DOWN my pacing!

I escalated the story quicker than I was ready for and wrote myself into a multiple-year-long depression hiatus.

This is what happens when you don't plan your pacing accordingly!

(I'm so mad at myself)

Semi-spoilers, but-not-really ahead, so read with the intent of theory crafting!

I know that I retconned Jared a little hard, and he's a really strong-in-character character that I will get back to, but now I want to hopefully build Tristan up a little because Coffin's passing is going to be PAINFUL for me to write, which, I have to admit, is the reason why it's so hard for me to continue writing this fic is because it got REALLY sad, REALLY quickly, and I need a break from the sad to hopefully bring my spirits up (of course, before crashing them back down again. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSEEEELF?).

So... Yeah. I'm going to dedicate either an entire chapter (or perhaps an entire arc) that's completely dedicated to mending and healing the characters (of course, with Coffin's passing playing a giant role that will, paired with send Tristan's arc into OVERDRIVE) before I conclude what's going to happen to the town, what on Terra was going on between Reunion and Slick, and of course, conclude the fate of Bawlz! BUT BEFORE WE GET THERE, the entire healing arc, of course, is going to take place within 4-5 in-story days (and A LOT can happen in a single day).

Thank you all very much, and I hope you return for Chapter 15! Thank you so much for sticking with me, and I hope to wrap up this story soon!

AGAIN! THANK YOU, EVERYONE!