After she locked the door again, Rosie took in the sparse room. Anything of value long gone. Nothing more than a locker, desk and a bed taken from the infirmary. She pressed herself into the corner and waited.

Soon enough her target burst through the door, sweating and anxious. Rosie doubted she needed the stealth field as he pulled out a drawer to get at his stash. He held a lighter under a spoon with trembling hands and filled a syringe. He took off his boot and rolled up his trouser leg, tying a rubber tube tight around his ankle.

Rosie let him get his fix. His manner calmed and movement stilled. She padded silently across the room, ducking down and crawling to get under the chair. She pressed the injector to the back of the knee. He didn’t even flinch.

A moment later, his head slumped forward. Rosie tilted it back, straining his slowed breathing further. She checked for a pulse, finding none. She lingered a minute longer to be sure. Rosie slipped out into an empty corridor, finding Matt waiting.

“We good?” He asked as she dressed in her black fatigues.

“Yeah.” Rosie knew she'd got it done.

“You ok?” Matt had a worried look.

“Yeah.” She still didn’t understand why he and Charlie thought this would be difficult.

“Give me the injector, I’ll have Janey incinerate it.” Matt held out a biohazard bag with the green fatigues in and she dropped it in. Matt breathed a sigh of relief. “Charlie wants to see you.”

Rosie went back to the Recon HQ. No one gave her a second glance. Charlie waved her into the office. “We good?”

“Yeah.” She saw Charlie relax.

“You ok?” Charlie asked, the same worried look.

“Yeah.” Rosie hid her annoyance at the question.

“Good. I wouldn’t have asked you if we had a better play.” Charlie got up from her desk, forcing a smile. “Come on. The food’s terrible but there’s plenty of it.”

They walked out of the office, when Janey’s feed came on in Rosie’s vision. “Paul’s awake.” Rosie waited for Charlie to get an envelope from the office and they all but sprinted to the infirmary.

Matt met them at the door. “Family only.” A stern nurse said as they walked in.

“They are family.” Charlie didn’t even look at him.

“Charlie.” Paul murmured, bloodshot eyes half open.

“I’m here, you’re at the outpost.” She took his hand and started to cry as he squeezed it back.

“What happened?” He asked, gradually getting his bearings.

“We had a meet with Jones. It was an ambush.” Charlie tried to give him as little information as possible.

“We whole?” Paul saw Matt and Rosie. Charlie held up the letter.

“No.” Rosie saw him suffer a pain no medication could help with.

They gave Paul time to take in the news. Charlie got a nod from everyone and opened the letter.

“I, Sentinel Brandon Cross, being of relatively sound mind, ask the following be carried out in the event of…” Charlie trailed off and cleared the lump in her throat. “My wine collection is to be left to Paul. Under the strict condition every drop goes into a glass and not a pan. My records go to Sara, comic books to Matthew and my other books to Rosie. To Charlie I leave the thing most precious to me, my team, my family. Finally, enclosed are letters for Sara, Clarke, and my team. I ask that my team gather and read their letter.”

“Any and all remaining property is to be sold and funds donated to the nearest orphanage. With an amount set aside to go behind the bar of the nearest establishment of ill repute. All my love, Brandon. P.S. I would very much like Janey to have my chess set, she knows where it is.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Charlie opened the letter for the team, her tears turning to laughter. “You idiots! You finally went and screwed up bad enough that I had to do something daring and heroic. And this time, I didn’t make it out. That’s alright. I’d give my life for any of you ten times over.”

“Paul, I don’t know who I’d be without you. I’m guessing I’d be thinner. And not half the man I am today. No matter how bad things got. How short on ammo we were. How outnumbered we were. I knew you’d be right there with me. In fact I’m guessing if you’re there and I’m not, you’re in a hospital bed. Don’t blame yourself old friend. We spat in the face of death for years. The bill comes due. If I pay it instead of you, that’s fine with me. Stay strong brother, and thank you.”

“Charlie. You're a first rate scout, a true friend, and an amazing wife. But a better Second there is not. Your insights made me better, forced me to think outside of what I knew. When I had your backing I knew we would walk out without a scratch. It’s your team now. I hope you find a Second half as good as mine.”

“Matthew. Your father would be proud of you. I know that because I was given the honour of filling in for him, and I am proud of you, son. Watching you grow from a boy filled with fear, into a man in complete control of that fear, has been incredible. I have no doubt that you would have made a chief worthy of many songs. It saddens me that I’ll miss you getting fat and old and slow. I want you to promise to work things out with Sara. You two have loved each other from day one. Stop getting in each other's way.”

“Rosie. If you’re hearing this then we didn’t get the kind of time together I hoped for. I’m sorry for that. In all my years, all my travels and my career, you are the most exceptional person I have ever met. Not because of the tech on your arm, in spite of it. If I had your gifts, I may have used them for profit or power. I may have used them just because I could. You haven’t done any of that. What you have done is work to save strangers, even without meaning to. You can make a real difference Rosie, on a level I never could. It’s up to you to make sure that difference helps people. If you are ever unsure, let your family guide you.”

“It was an honour my friends. See you in the next life. All my love, Brandon.” Charlie folded the letter away as if it were fragile, then burst into tears.

“I’ll deliver those.” Rosie volunteered after regaining most of her composure. “I’ll bring back real food.” She squeezed Paul’s hand.

She remembered the way to the elder’s office from her last visit. This time she knocked on the door. Sara smiled as she opened the door, seeing Rosie in uniform.

“Don’t we look handsome.” Sara’s smile faded as Rosie held out the letters. “You know, I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” Sara took them both, laying them respectfully on the desk.

“I could use a hand.” Rosie didn’t know how Sara had coped so well, and didn’t want to see her fall apart.

Rosie led Sara to the back entrance of the mess. The cooks finished for the day and Rosie had the run of the spacious kitchen. She grabbed a dozen fresh tatos, cut them into chunks. Seasoned and drizzled in oil, Rosie slid them into the oven.

“What do you need me to do?” Sara asked.

“Oh, I don’t actually need to do anything. I figured no one would stop me if you were here.” Rosie got a laugh.

“You would have let them stop you?” Sara asked with a grin.

“Everyone here deserves respect.” Rosie had made an effort to fit in and not cause trouble.

“You know I can actually help.” Sara washed her hands.

“Great, can you blanch those.” Rosie handed her a bowl of tatos.

“Sure, I can blanch them up real nice.” Sara switched on the grill. Rosie tried not to laugh, admiring how well Sara bluffed.

“I just need you to boil them for a few minutes, then drop them into cold water.” Rosie tried to remember how Paul taught her.

“I know that.” Sara broke into laughter, letting Rosie do the same.

Rosie made the soup, talking with Sara as the pot bubbled away. She felt closer to Sara than before, seeing Brandon’s mannerisms and hearing his turns of phrase.

“You should have this.” Rosie took the knife from her pocket and gave it to Sara. “I made one each for the team. It’s Saturnite alloy, cuts through pretty much anything.”

“Anything?” Sara flicked the smoke coloured blade out, a dubious look on her face. Rosie glanced around, pulling a bone from the pile of leftovers. She held it one hand, taking the knife carefully with the other. The bone offered no resistance as Rosie slashed it in two. “Damn.” Sara's doubts vanished.

“He’d want you to have it.” Rosie managed to whisper.

“I think you’re right. I also think he’d want us to watch out for each other, like family.” Sara put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’d like that.” Rosie smiled through the tears as Sara hugged her.

“Can you toast that bread?” Rosie tasted the soup and took it off the boil. “This time you should use the grill.”

“Fuck you. I can make toast” Sara seemed lightened by the break, and the company.

With the second lot of bread toasted, Rosie ladled soup into plastic bowls and headed back to the infirmary. The sight of Sara and the smell of real food brought Paul a lift. Matt reached for a bowl as she set them down. Rosie batted his hand back, adding a touch of fresh cream.

“Well?” She asked, eager for Paul’s verdict.

“Needs,” Paul smiled as Rosie cut him off.

“Hot sauce.” She held out the tiny bottle from the pre-war pouches that were like gold dust.

They sat and enjoyed a meal together, enjoying the company, learning to cope with the absence.