"Has there been any word?"

Rosa looked up from her spot on the couch, a solemn expression on her face, then shook her head. "Nothing."

Eric let out a slow exhale. "How soon do you think they'll tell us once she's back?"

"It's hard to say, Eric. I imagine there are parts of this mission they'll want to keep classified. I'm sure they'll have to debrief her once she's back. But after that… it shouldn't be long."

"You're sure?"

"No, I'm not." Rosa sighed tiredly. "Look, it's almost two in the morning. You've been up for far too long. You need to get some sleep."

"You're one to talk."

"I'm only up because you're still up. That's also why I'm staying at your house instead of my own. That and I figured you didn't want to be left alone right now."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm not an idiot." Her expression softened. "It's sweet that you care so much about her, but you're running yourself ragged doing this. You need to get some rest."

"If our positions were reversed, she'd wait up for me," Eric pointed out.

"We don't know how long she'll be out in the field, you know. It doesn't make any sense for you to stay up for what could be several days, just waiting for news."

That was true, he had to admit. The officers had tried to assure the two of them that the mission would only take a short time, but it had mostly fallen on deaf ears. They both understood what was going on – that she'd been dispatched on an incredibly dangerous mission that she might not come back from. No amount of weasel words or obfuscation was going to conceal that kind of truth from the two of them. The facts were that this was something she very possibly wouldn't be walking away from, and that until the two of them heard otherwise, they were going to remain on-edge.

Eric let out a grunt, then shook his head. "I just… don't like the idea of going this long without news, you know? It bothers me, on a fundamental level. What if something happens to her? Are they just going to leave her for the Iprenians to find? I mean, it's not like they can go in after her-"

"Eric," Rosa interrupted. "Come sit."

"Rosa-"

"Now."

He stared at her for a moment, but gave in, moving to sit next to her on the couch. Once they were side-by-side, Rosa let out a short exhale.

"You're a good man, you know," she told him. "I feel like I've told you that before, but I haven't said it nearly enough. The way you've reached out to her, and helped her try to adjust… it's nothing short of amazing. You should be proud of yourself."

"Rosa?" Eric asked, taken aback by what she was saying.

But she ignored him, instead turning to look out the window. "...I'll admit, when the government first told me they wanted you to house her, I had my reservations, especially after the first few days. But once it became clear just how much help she needed, and how fucked-up she really was… you went above and beyond. The government said they picked you because they figured you'd drive her away, but they were wrong, more wrong than they could ever have imagined. You've been incredible to her."

Eric stared at her, unsure of what to say. Rosa turned towards him, and then did something unexpected.

She leaned forward and gently hugged him.

Eric blinked, taken by surprise. The two of them had hugged each other, sure, but it'd always been in the context of Rebecca being there as well. This was the first time ever it had just been the two of them.

And yet, despite all the things said between the two of them since she'd become his handler, it wasn't unwelcome.

Slowly, he brought his hands up to return the hug.

"I believe she'll make it back," Rosa told him. "Do you want to know why? Because she loves you."

Eric's heart skipped a beat. "She… doesn't know what love is, Rosa."

"I think you're wrong. She may not have a word for what she's feeling, but it's clear to me that she cares a great deal about you. You're the one she's come to rely on more than anybody – the one who cares for her, comforts her… in the absence of her sisters and father, you're her everything, Eric."

He shook his head. "I'm not. She has you, too."

"Maybe so, but not to the same extent as you. You're the one who lives with her – the one she wakes up and sees every day. Can you imagine what that's like for someone like her? After all those years of fear, and terror, and combat, she finally has something stable she can cling to. They raised her to be a killing machine, but you've brought out the human side of her in a way nobody else ever has. And that's why I believe she's going to make it back eventually – because if she doesn't, then she'll never see you again, and I know nothing scares her more than that."

Eric blinked, his vision blurring at Rosa's words. "...You're wrong," he said softly. "If that were true, she wouldn't have gone off in the first place. So why-"

"Because this is unfinished business to her," Rosa explained. "She has to see this through to the end in order to move on, Eric. Because if she doesn't, she'll always be left asking herself why. She has to do this, because until it's done, she'll never be able to fully leave that life behind her. Don't you understand? She's not doing this because she loves her mentor more than you, she's doing it because she doesn't want anything left that can drag her back into that life and away from you."

Eric froze, unsure of what to say. Try as he might, the words simply wouldn't come to him. Finally, after a few seconds, he settled on simply holding Rosa even tighter, which she reciprocated.

And for just a moment, everything felt right in the world.

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***

Warning: Significant damage detected.

Warning: Vital signs are dropping.

Warning: Seek medical attention.

Thirteen let out a low hiss as she pressed her back up against a nearby wall, then stuck her head out to peer around the corner. Through her cracked visor and flickering night vision, she was just barely able to make out that the darkened hallway behind her appeared to be clear for the time being. She let out a short breath, wincing as she did so. Her vision blurred, black spots dancing on the corners of her eyes. And all around her, an alarm blared throughout the facility, the flickering red light going off every few seconds, illuminating the shadows she'd hidden herself in.

The fight with Major Miller had been a back-and-forth. The two of them were evenly matched; every blow she dealt ended with one being returned to her with just as much force. Already, parts of her armor had been caved in, and others had been reduced to liquid slag thanks to his plasma sword. Injury-wise, the armor around her left arm had been crushed, mangling the limb within; her armor's automatic injectors had given her enough morphine and adrenaline that she couldn't feel it, but she could tell from the blood leaking through the cracks in her gauntlet that the moment the armor came off, her arm was going to need emergency medical attention.

Beyond that, she had a litany of other injuries that were going to need surgery. Several of her ribs had been broken, and one of her lungs had collapsed. Each breath was coming out more as a labored gasp, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to do even that with every passing moment. And as if that wasn't enough, she had several gashes along her body that had been cauterized thanks to that sword.

"Rebecca…"

At the sound of her old instructor calling her name, Thirteen stiffened. She unslung her next weapon, an automatic shotgun, and hefted it with one hand, the other arm dangling uselessly at her side, and tucked the stock of her weapon under her armpit as she rounded the corner.

"Kill… me…"

Thirteen grit her teeth as she turned, searching for Major Miller. But she couldn't find him – his armor had the same refractory camouflage hers had, which made detecting him in the darkness almost impossible. He didn't have the same problem, though – unlike his armor, the camouflage on hers had burned out after the big hit to her chest from earlier.

Thirteen cautiously took a step out of cover, still keeping her shotgun leveled at the area ahead of her. With a small wince, she began to move forward, limping the entire time.

Whatever they'd done to Major Miller, it was clear that he wasn't in control of his own body anymore, and that on some level, he was aware of what he'd been forced to do. Perhaps that was why he was begging her to put him down, or maybe it was because he knew there was no way they'd be able to undo what the Iprenians had done to him. Either way, it didn't matter to her – her superior officer, and more importantly, her father figure, was giving her an order, and she would see it through to the end.

Even if it killed her.

Eric's face flashed through her thoughts at that moment, and she grit her teeth as she shook it away. There was no regret in accepting this mission, but that didn't change the fact that, more than anything, she wanted to go home and see him and Rosa again.

It was funny on some level, she mused as she continued moving through the facility – when she'd first arrived at his house, all she'd wanted was to get back into the field. And now that she was out in the field again, all she wanted was to go back to him. Some part of her had changed during her short time with the two of them, which almost belied belief. But those were the facts, and there was no denying them.

She was sick of war. It had been all she'd known, and now that she'd had a taste of civilian life, there was no going back.

But the mission came first, as always. And not even Eric could change that right now.

Thirteen moved into a nearby room, one filled with bizarre Iprenian contraptions and machines she couldn't make heads or tails of. This facility was for some kind of research, though she had no idea what. Whatever it was, they'd seen fit to station Miller here, which meant that once she was done with him, it'd have to go, too.

"Behind… you…"

Thirteen's eyes widened, and she moved just in time to avoid a swing from Miller that would have taken her head clean off. She whipped around, firing off what remained in her shotgun at him. Three loads of copper-plated buckshot impacted against his chestpiece, but the armor held, though the force of the shotgun blasts sent him stumbling back. Thirteen tossed the empty weapon aside, and then with all her strength, launched herself at Miller. The two of them collided, and were sent sprawling, the plasma sword slipping from his grasp.

Both combatants hurriedly picked themselves up, then stared each other down, the two of them gasping for breath. For as bad a shape as Thirteen was in, Miller looked even worse. His body was riddled with bullet holes, some of which had gone through but most of which had merely dented his armor. One had even gone through his helmet, though it had only grazed his head, if the thin trickle of red coming from the side of his helmet was any indication. His legs, on the other hand, had been all but shredded by gunfire, and if it weren't for the cocktail of painkillers and hemostatic medicine his suit had provided him, he would have keeled over and died minutes ago.

The two of them circled each other, Thirteen drawing her knife, the final weapon she had on her person. Miller, meanwhile, eyed the hilt of his sword, lying on the ground a few feet away. Thirteen tensed, waiting for him to make his move.

When he finally did, she wasn't surprised – he dove for the plasma blade on the ground, and Thirteen dove after him, slipping her blade through one of the bullet holes in his chest armor. She felt something crack as the knife was driven into him, followed by blood gushing around her gauntlet-clad hand, and a choked gasp erupting out of his throat. A sigh of relief escaped her, knowing she'd just dealt a death blow to him.

And then, before the breath had finished leaving her lungs, she seized, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Slowly, she looked down, and saw the green blade of Miller's sword jutting into her stomach. Her breath caught in her lungs, and she sank to her knees. Miller, meanwhile, struggled up from his spot on the ground, his free hand going to the knife still embedded in his heart. As Thirteen watched numbly, her vision blurring so badly that it was almost impossible to see at all, he grasped the hilt of her blade and roughly tore it out. Blood spurted from his wound as the knife came clattering the ground, and as she watched, Miller looked up to her.

And, of all things, he gave her a small nod.

"Well… done… thank you…"

Before she could do anything else, he reached up and grasped the hilt of his sword. She tensed, expecting him to finish her off, but he didn't.

Instead, he hit a button on the side of the hilt, and the plasma was cut off entirely, the hilt falling to the floor next to her knife.

And then Miller fell over, his body seizing as he gave one final, desperate gasp, before the last breath left his lungs and he finally died.

Thirteen stared at the corpse of her former instructor for a second, unable to believe what had just happened. Tears filled her eyes at the realization of what she'd just done, but she was quick to blink them away, even as she struggled to her feet, despite the all-encompassing agony she was in. Slowly, Thirteen turned and began to limp out of the facility.

She was still alive, even if only barely, and that meant it was time to go home.

***

With shaking hands, Eric dumped the remnants of his cigarette into the nearby ashtray, then went into his pocket for another one. As he lit it, he checked the nearby clock. It was almost midnight yet again.

Three days. She'd been gone for three days, with not a single word from anyone else. Him and Rosa had stayed up the entire time, waiting for any kind of news, but they'd received nothing.It was driving him mad. He'd gone through two bottles of bourbon in that time, not to mention several packs of smokes. Coupled with his sleep deprivation, and he felt like death, but he wasn't about to risk falling asleep and missing something important.

Rosa, for her part, felt the same. Despite her words to him earlier, she was just as guilty of everything as he was, which was why she'd long since given up trying to admonish him and instead had joined him in drinking and smoking.

Eventually, though, something had to give. Eric let out a wide yawn as the clock finally struck midnight, and was just about to tell Rosa that he was willing to throw in the towel and go to sleep if she was, when her phone suddenly dinged. She grabbed it as fast as she could, reading over the message, before turning back to him and giving him just two words.

"She's back."