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A Forgotten Hero
Chapter 17: Tis the Season

Chapter 17: Tis the Season

I slowly get myself out of bed in the morning to the sound of my alarm. Despite school being a few months out I still wake up early to work out. A healthy body is always a good idea to have. Plus it seems I have no shortage of trouble and getting stronger among other things is important.

I get dressed in athletic clothing and warm up by jogging to the gym. Once there I do a few minutes of stretching to get the morning stiffness out and then begin my workout. As of the moment I am fairly strong, stronger than the average person, but not super bulky or anything which is actually good. Strength is important up to a certain point where eventually you lose flexibility and endurance. I like to keep myself noticeably muscular, but more on the lean side. I decide for the foreseeable future to work on endurance by doing a high number of reps rather than anything heavy. This mixed with cardio I should be hunky-dory.

I spend an hour and a half lifting running on treadmills and using a rowing machine before I call it a day. I have some decorating to do, and hopefully, if I can, some baking and other various cooking. As I head out of the gym a group I pass catches my attention. There is a woman in a wheelchair being pushed around by what looks like a trainer and accompanied by two nurses. The wheelchair-bound one calls out to me,

"Hey, you! Are you the pilot of the Wendigo?"

I stop and answer,

"Well it's just Wendigo, but yes that is me."

She nods and gives a sad-looking smile before saying,

"Congratulations on winning the senior division for rankings... I can't give you your rematch to really find out who is the best. Sorry about that."

She looks downtrodden and I reply,

"Hey, don't say that. As soon as Wendigo is back in working order name a time and I'll give ya the fight we got screwed out of."

This causes her to give a light smile before she lifts up the blanket over her legs revealing two nubs. The legs are cut off just below the knee meaning it still remains, just like me. She sadly explains,

"I don't have the ability to use my legs correctly anymore. My piloting days are over. The only reason I'm still at this academy is to finish out my senior year... my family won't take me back to Titan because I can no longer bring glory..."

She seems quite upset and I think about it for a moment deciding if it's worth it or not. Deciding to try and cheer her up I roll up my pant legs revealing the missing lower parts of my legs. The metal replacements sitting dull and dark in the morning overcast. I say to her,

"See, not the end of the world, plus these metal sticks are earth made. I'm sure you space fairing jerks got something way better than this. See... Don't get yourself so down. You can still fight if you want, but if you don't, so be it. It's your life at the end of the day. Live it how you see fit, but live it well so you have no regrets."

She looks up and beams a massive smile towards me while laughing. It seems I caught her a bit off guard but made her happy. She then says through her laughter,

"You are a truly interesting person. A freshman, earth-born, commoner, who beat top-of-the-line pilots and AMS in a tin can. Then every action you've taken so far is beyond my comprehension. I could never leap into action as you did. Then now you show me you don't have legs either! This is too much. Thank you for this. I don't know what I would've done moving forward, but I think I'll try and get some new legs too. Then I'll come and beat you fair and square."

I return the smile and say,

"Sure thing. I'm always looking forward to good competition."

We give each other our well wishes and go our separate ways. I go to find a place to eat breakfast. I go to the cafe I frequent and quickly get to my lonesome table outside. With a big cup of black and a plate of eggs and bacon, I am quite happy with myself. Now the most important things are, first figuring out where the hell Dusty is to get her the gift on the 25th. Then after the course of action is getting my room a little spruced up, nothing extreme, maybe a cheap tree and a wreath for my door. Then it's the best part. The baked goods. While I am no professional chef, I have since I was younger been a pretty decent cook from what I can remember. Of the few remaining memories of my father, I can remember very clearly making Christmas goodies.

As I'm eating and sipping at my drink I am in a world of my own now deciding which exact sweets I should make. There are so many options, but which ones can I make. I will purchase a cheap electric oven for my room, but what am I willing to go through for sweets? Some recipes I know end up making an absolute shitton of food and there is only so much I can eat and I only know like eight people maximum to share with and not all of those eight are people I am willing to share with. Maybe I can be just a well-wisher and give out a bunch of it for free. That might work but folks may be hesitant to take anything as they don't know how it was made or with what. This is an interesting but difficult decision to make.

As I am deep in thought someone sits across from me without me noticing. When my train of thought is broken by a voice,

"What's got you so deep in thought? I also can't believe you're back on campus already..."

I shake out of my self-inflicted trance and look up to see Liberty across the table from me. She looks incredibly tired. I shake my head and reply,

"I'm just trynna think through what I should make for Christmas goodies. I'm having trouble figuring out what to do with the huge amount of excess I will have, just by nature, also I'm back on campus because I have nothing better to do and I don't wanna spend more time in Dr. Frankenstein's workshop than I have to."

She laughs tiredly at my joke before letting out a long sigh and saying,

"I would say hand all the excess over to me, but at my age, it takes a lot to keep this figure."

She motions to her admittedly nice figure. I then follow up with a mean joke,

"Well, it's not like you can get yourself a husband at your age anymore so what's the point?"

She purses her lips and reaches over the table to slug me. Her hit is solid. She meant it. She replies,

"Yeah, my bad. I wasn't put on ice for almost two decades. Any way I can get a husband at any time I want."

She is getting a little worked up but she isn't as tired-looking anymore. I reply,

"Name one guy. I'll admit defeat if you can name one male on this entire damn planet."

She pauses, and then I begin laughing. She sits there for a moment thinking for a while before quietly saying,

"This is revenge for that time...right? You don't really mean that?"

That makes me hesitate before slowly saying,

"Uhhhhhh, What one time? I can't say I remember anything directly related to this... or even vaguely. Aside from trying to kill me what else could I want revenge for?"

She shakes her head and replies,

"Don't worry about it. I guess you aren't able to remember that as of now. Don't worry about it, so you are just being mean!"

I laugh at the last part but now I am curious about what she is talking about. I can ask later but right now I have free entertainment. Still though, what on earth is 'that one time? I then say,

"Well, regardless I still didn't hear an answer from you. If my math is correct you are almost if not already forty right? Tick tock on the baby clock ya know."

She pouts for a moment and then says in an attempt to catch me off balance,

"Well, you could man up and give me one retard. I am only three years older than you, remember?"

It does in fact catch me for a second but I respond,

" Hmmm, throw my sausage down a hallway? In other news, I could take my pants off in a gymnasium and feel the same thing. "

She physically cringes before responding,

"Oh, quick one there. Thought I had you, but I mean, at the end of the day, in two years you'll be the forty-year virgin."

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We both laugh as I cough loudly in surprise at the quick comeback. I reply,

"Luckily, I couldn't remember that, but it seems we are at a draw before we just start hurling slurs and insults rather than having good banter."

She nods her meals arriving. I then ask,

"You look beat to hell. What's up with that?"

She jumps in surprise at the question and then says,

"It's a boring story you sure you wanna hear?"

I nod and say,

"Any better idea for conversation?"

She shakes her head taking a long swig from her cup and then explains,

"Well, simply put the terrorist attack is an administrative nightmare. From a legal standpoint, a financial standpoint, and from a personal standpoint. I have parents of the dead trying to lynch me for not having good enough security, as if I could foresee that attack. There is the money aspect of people dropping out losing us income, and repairing destroyed stuff, and of course insurance doesn't cover acts of terror unless we had the package including that. At least they are footing all medical bills.

On top of that is the guilt of it all. In the end, I was in charge and I have some fault when it comes down to it. My job is to educate and train the best AMS pilots, and anytime they die during their time at school and afterward due to whatever reason it is somewhat on me because I possibly could have done something to prevent their death. Every pilot and student killed during the terrorist attack is on me because I didn't have good enough security, every pilot killed in this war on terror happening right now is on me because I didn't have courses or training that kept them safe. I just don't know what to do?"

She seems to be nearly about to start crying. I can tell from her voice and her body language she is truly remorseful about the situation. This situation I can barely call her fault. This was one big surprise to me and should be for anyone else, but I understand the guilt of not doing enough. I feel it too...

What surprises me the most though is Liberty. She claimed earlier when apologizing to me that she has done a lot to change and feels regret about her past actions. I couldn't believe her, I took her tears as those of a crocodile, crying while they chomp on your throat, but here, it seems she really has changed. If I had more memories I could make a better judgment on what I think about her now, but with what I remember and know at the moment, I won't forgive, but I can see her as a person, possibly something similar to a friend. To be honest, how many friends do I have in this future world? If she has changed, what does it hurt? I clear my throat and reach across the table and put it firmly on her shoulder and say,

"It's a shit situation... I know, and I also know it's hard to not put blame and guilt upon yourself. I kinda have the same feeling. I ask myself whether or not I could have done more. Could I have fought harder? Could I have reacted sooner? These questions filled my mind and still have echoes bouncing around in my head. In the end, you have to be good with the fact you at least did something. It doesn't matter how small or how great the things you did were. You did something, that's more than what anyone else can say, you did something to help. You weren't a bystander or a victim. Even if all you did was organize relief efforts or whatever, you did something.

What I want to say is this. It sucks, you are sad and overwhelmed with the whole situation. Makes sense, very few wouldn't be. You being sad about what you couldn't do, that alone takes away from what you did do. So stop that. You did what you could and that's the great thing. Now, what will you do? Continue to mope or will you put your big girl pants on and understand that you are human and are limited by that alone? "

She sits there stunned for a moment before wiping her eyes and saying,

"Good idea. I guess it is a situation where there is no truly correct answer, the only one being the right one for the spot you find yourself. Thank you, Mike."

I smile and sit back in my chair and we finish breakfast in silence. Before I can go to pay she takes the bill and gets it for us both. As we stand up to leave I ask,

"Wanna take a longer break and do Christmas stuff?"

She smiles and replies,

"Yeah, fuck paperwork. I'm about to go insane with the mountains I got left. I could really go for some festive stuff. Shame Christmas isn't celebrated much anymore, not since that imperial religion came around, a good amount of people on earth even follow it. Shits weird."

We get up together and we head to the shopping mall first. I manage to only find a wreath and a wireframe tree. Even if it was cheap I would've preferred the kind that actually tried to emulate a real tree. Along with that, I got myself the cheap electric oven, which with modern tech is about as good as a full-size electric convection oven back in the day.

Having collected everything I need I am dragged around by Liberty through clothing stores. I manage to get out of going into any women-only stores but she drags me into dress-up time. I'll admit I've never held much regard for fashion. I have just enough clothes for each specific situation I find myself in. I don't need anymore I feel, but according to Liberty, I need more variety. Much to my great displeasure, I am forced to try on some more modern outfits for my gender. To me, they look like fancy sweatpants and t-shirts, but apparently whoever made them has the audacity to charge a few hundred for the set. I only walk away with a set of khaki shorts and a few polos from this shopping spree. This is because as of now I don't have any what I would call beach clothes.

Liberty for her part has me judge her on a few outfits but I really don't know what I'm talking about and at the same time I didn't want to be honest on a few. I didn't wanna make her mad when she is trying to find nice-looking clothes. She comes away from the mall with a few bags of clothes which I am not required to carry as my hands a full. We head to my dorm to drop off what we have now and then leave again towards the grocery store.

There, using a mixture of my own memory and some of Libertys we gather the ingredients for our favorite Christmas sweets. We make it back and get to work. I make my dad's favorite peanut butter cookies being the easiest as they only need a cup or two of smooth peanut butter, a little bit of baking soda, an egg, and some oats to bind. Nine minutes later at 350 degrees leaves the whole dorm smelling great.

(I am not going to describe many cookies or sweets made, this fiction does not have a tag for cooking, nor do I have my family recipes on hand at the moment. I apologize but look them up and you'll find some great recipes online to enjoy. The only reason peanut butter cookies are described is that I am currently eating some.)

In the end, we make batches of chocolate chip cookies, some peanut clusters, Amish sugar cookies, and some pretty fucking good homemade sandwich cookies (think soft Oreos). After the tables are cleaned we take a step back to look at the unholy amount of food we just made. I feel proud, but at the same time, I feel uneasy. There is no way in hell we are even finishing a third of these. I think for a moment then ask Liberty,

"Who should we invite to enjoy these with us? "

She thinks for a second and shrugs saying,

"I dunno. I'll probably give any leftovers out to the rest of the administration of the school as they are working hard."

I nod and decide to keep some for Genevieve and whoever just so happens to pass by. We divide the sweets into amounts saved for others and those we wish to eat ourselves. It's still a brutal amount of food to eat, but since we haven't eaten since breakfast it is possible to put a dent in the stuff saved for us. The rest will be held onto until Christmas which is only four days away.

I sit on my bed and kick up my feet and start chowing down with a full carton of eggnog in hand, another carton of regular milk open nearby to wash down the rich drink and food. Liberty takes her bottle of brandy and starts hammering alcoholic eggnog. The afternoon wanes and night come and we are both getting too full. I stop and put plastic wrap over my stuff to save. Liberty does the same at a slower rate as the brandy is slowly getting to her. Overall I am fat and happy for today.

We both decide it's time to head our separate ways as the large number of carbs tries to knock us out. I help her carry her clothing bags back to her apartment. She leaves her portion of food to pick up tomorrow. I walk her back and she is well behaved, only barely staggering every now and then. I get her to our destination and lay her bags inside and wish her good night. She flops on her couch and I close the door behind me.

What? You thought I was gonna take advantage of her? Perverts.

I return to my room and sleep finds me quickly. I go through the night quickly and wake up to my alarm. I get up, use the restroom and then go work out. I do similar to yesterday and forego breakfast as I feel like a fat pig this morning. I shower and get dressed in my regular clothes of long sleeves and long pants. I check my handheld and see Liberty texted me. She says that she is swamped with work for the next two days and will be by to pick up the food on Christmas eve. I tell her it's okay and decide to text Dusty to see if she is alright after the attack. She texts back telling me she is alright and no longer as shaken. I invite her over for some sweets and she agrees.

She arrives quickly and I almost don't recognize her. I know it has been a few months since we last met but her short hair is now almost shoulder length and the blue is only visible on the very ends of it. She still is an absolute physical beast though. I greet her and she grabs me in a bear hug which I just pat her shoulder on. She comes in and starts getting her favorite things. We talk for a bit and it seems she has been well off for the past few months, with no combat, no injuries, and no one to close having died. I tell her my time and she slugs me on the shoulder calling congratulating me on how well I have done.

I hand her the wrapped gift I got for her as she goes to leave. She thanks me once more and then heads off to wherever she came from. It was nice talking to her. I spend the rest of my day putting up my decorations and lazing around. The same pretty much happens until Christmas eve.

On the 24th I start my day like usual and return to my room. Liberty texts me saying she'll be over in the afternoon to collect her things and to chill for a bit to avoid work. I decide to make a party of it and invite Dusty too. Then I just wait.

At around six they both show up at the same time with drinks. I remembered they got along pretty well so I felt as if they would the same here. I get myself an already opened carton of eggnog and start the merriment. We mostly just shoot the shit and whatever the entire night when I go to stand up I fall back onto my bed. I had noticed this eggnog tasted weird. It must've been spiked. I decide to ignore the alcohol as it is a holiday, no reason to be a prude. My head swims as I get another carton after mine empties. I also don't stop Liberty in her adding brandy into my drink. Suddenly at about the halfway point of the carton, I stop remembering things.

On Christmas morning I wake up feeling pretty shitty. My mouth is dry and my head hurts, paired with a bit of an upset stomach. I prior had no tolerance to alcohol considering I don't drink. I really shouldn't have last night but it didn't matter. I go to sit up and relieve myself when I find my arms pinned. I feel my blood run cold. I say out loud,

"Please don't tell me I did what I think I did."

Looking down I see both Dusty and Liberty clung to one arm each. Using my feet I slowly remove the covers. Once I do I give a major sigh of relief. Both are fully clothed and so am I. Nothing happened. I manage to wiggle free and right myself before sitting in my chair. Eventually, both women wake up and look confused. Dusty gets really embarrassed and Liberty just laughs. I sit in my chair quietly and Liberty then says,

"I think I got you good! You should see your face you look red as a tomato!"

Dusty calms down seeing she is clothed and says to me,

"I'm sorry that I slept here! I didn't mean it."

I tell them both that it is fine and joke,

"Well, I doubt any man would ask for a better Christmas present!"

They cause a laugh from all of us. They leave quickly afterward as it really is an awkward situation. I see them out and turn to see my room... it's super messy. I spend my Christmas how anyone would want. Cleaning up...