The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

[KamiKaze]

((Bella Bianchi continued from Picking Up the Pieces ))

Never, ever, did she want to go through that again.

Her heart was only just slowing down after escaping the cabanas. The snow crunched underneath their feet as the three of them stomped through the snow, in an almost consistent rhythm. A lot had fallen to the ground during the night. Maybe Bella didn’t notice because she was… distracted. Distracted was both a good word and an awful one.

Bella hadn’t said much once the beeping stopped, only a few minutes ago. The bags were heavy on her shoulders.

While taking Paisley with them only took time they could have used to get out, she could understand why Yagmur did it the more she thought about it. Perhaps he felt there had to be a better place to finish covering her up. Maybe someplace nicer where she could be buried.

Problem was, could she do something like this for Shadi and Eden? Or Aidan and Will, for that matter?

Aidan. The news was still fresh in her mind.

Maybe she thought he would be the kind of person to keep going in something like SOTF. Maybe she didn’t know him well-enough. But she left him there, holding Will in his arms. What was he thinking about, as the hours ticked closer, the beeps getting louder? Did he do something for Will before it became a dangerzone, much like they were doing for Paisley? Maybe she got it wrong, and he just didn’t make it.

Maybe the bags weren’t what was heavy after all.

Bella made a face as she walked in thought. How many more names would she have to hear called out?

It wasn’t that far a walk before a new building made its way into her sights. Bella looked up, numbly observing it. Ever since the announcement before last, she had been looking at the map often, and occasionally something called an “Ice Palace” slid into her mind. Well, this looked like a place you could name that. It looked like something out of a fairytale, with its jagged spires and painted outside. Her feet slowed to a stop.

It was good for a rest, at least.

Bella checked behind her, to make sure that Yagmur and Regina were still nearby. Regina still had that leg, and she didn’t want to leave her too far away. Last time showed why.

“Is this a good place?” she said, nervously adjusting the straps.

Maybe not too much for Paisley, but maybe just to get a breather.

[Imehal*]

[CJ04: Regina "Reggie" Aston continued from Picking Up The Pieces]

It had not been fun traipsing around in the cold, but the promise of some form of respite from the cold and exertion forced Regina to keep the façade maintained for just that bit longer. Never mind whether the cameras or family were watching; only Yagmur and Bella mattered at the moment. As much as she would like to try and deny the truth of that, she felt it in every step that she chose not to ask for support, and deplete her energy reserves just that little bit more. It was all the more important now because even though she was being direct, hard, resilient on the outside, inside she just wanted to cry.

With the way she had felt about Yagmur’s anger (despite him saving Paisley’s body), and how much she resented every person who had made winning so much harder Regina thought she had run out of emotion to spare. The announcements soon corrected that assumption, adding disappointment. It sapped the strength from her, and left her vulnerable enough that she turned to regard both of her allies just after Bella’s question, then nodded once.

“There’s a staff room inside that is fairly warm. It should be okay for us to sit and recuperate out of sight.” Of course, that had not gone very well for Tucker and herself, but they did not need to know that. “Then we can decide what to do next.”

The cold was also beginning to aggravate her knee again, so she needed to sit down, eat and take some more of what was a limited supply of painkillers. Regina knew that the muscles were likely just very badly bruised, but even that took time to heal, and she did not have that. Therefore she did not wait for a response, limping forward to open the Ice Palace’s doors once more. It was not much warmer inside, but stripping off her old clothes had left her a little more exposed to the elements then she would like. That said, the clean tank top underneath her t-shirt and track pants were considerably more tolerable and practical than dirty, wet and stained clothing that would immediately set her at odds with any strangers should she be separated from Bella and Yagmur.

[General Goose]

((Yagmur Tekindor continued from Picking Up the Pieces ))

"You go inside, warm up, I'll find somewhere to put her at rest," Yagmur said to Bella, nodding his head towards the door. His tone was polite, formal, friendly, but clearly masking some pretty intense emotions. Without any further ado, he turned away from them, around the corner, looking for a particularly deep pile of snow.

Yagmur was maybe thinking bringing Paisley's body wasn't the best idea. Certainly, it was one made with the best intentions, but he was well aware that sometimes intentions did not necessarily guarantee outcomes. And that was certainly the case here.

Perhaps he should have left her there. Regina and Bella, for all their faults, had done a cromulent job of affording her some respect, of some dignity, of some privacy. And now with the Cul de Sac a safe zone, she would have been protected from collateral damage and cruel fellow students.

But unless he just threw her body back in there from a distance (which would be just disrespectful on so many levels), that ship had sailed.

So now he was just hoping to find some snow to bury her under, tucked into a corner, in sight of the cameras so her body could hopefully be retrieved. Hopefully the cold of the snow would keep her....decent. That was all he could do.

[KamiKaze]

Regina mentioned a staff room. Well, that would be nice. It wouldn’t be like the cabanas, but maybe there was a couch, or a table. Nothing too fancy, but somewhere cozy enough to rest. It seemed like she had been here before, which may had been a good thing. Maybe.

If anything, it was a good place to set the bags down for a while. Bella was athletic to begin with, but that couldn’t prevent an ache forming in her shoulders entirely. She still felt drained and sleep deprived, which only made things not much better. Her head ached, too. Bella remembered that Paisley slammed her head against hers, but she didn’t think it was a concussion. At least, she hoped so.

Bella responded to Yagmur with a nod, and said “If you need anything… don’t be afraid to yell.”

She still didn’t know where exactly he was around the time Paisley showed up. He wasn’t hurt, just… upset, really. But she still had to be concerned. He’d been drinking, too. Bella wasn’t sure how much was still in his system, but it could mean someone could take advantage of that. He had the gun, so if someone decided to attack him, he would have a pretty good way of defending himself.

So Bella nervously followed Regina, and as the door opened she smelled a familiar foul scent, like rotted meat. She knew what it meant by this point. As she stepped inside, a tremble came over her body.

It looked like an ice skating rink. Bella never expected a thing like that to be at this resort, but that was what it seemed to be. Might have been nice, to take your family out to during the season. Bella had never ice-skated before. It wasn’t really a huge thing in Albuquerque, not that she knew of.

The smell followed her as she looked to her other side. There was a café and an arcade here, too. From where she was standing, she could see the source of the smell. Bella knew what it was, but not who, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to step closer for an answer. Maybe it was a classmate. It was a boy, she guessed.

Bella gulped. She didn’t have a clue how fresh he was, and still, she didn’t want to get up close to figure that out. Another shudder passed over her body. A third. She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them.

“Staff room. Right…” she mumbled, mostly to herself.

Just a moment to rest. For both of them.

[Latin For Dragula]

((Vahka Basayev Continued From Measure by Measure, Drop by Drop))

"A-also... Paisley..."

"I fucked up. I know that. If- if you get the chance..."

"When you hear who did it, if you run into them..."

Yagmur had Paisley's body. It'd be hard to mistake her for anyone else, there in his arms, orange hair sticking out among the bleak snow and absurd structure looming behind them. Vahka knew he hadn't killed her. He'd remembered the name in the announcements, just like he'd promised to, and it sure as hell wasn't his. But he had her body, and that meant he had answers.

Answers would be nice, for once, instead of more questions.

He didn't speak as he limped forward towards the castle. Yagmur would see him first. Vahka hadn't seen him since he'd woken up, and he didn't have a damn clue what sort of state the crazy bastard was in. How he reacted would dictate how this all went down. If he wanted to talk, they'd talk. If he wanted something a little more physical...well, they could work that out too.

In the end, he'd get his answers. All that could change was how many bodies he left on the way there.

[Imehal*]

There had not been bullet holes in the tables or the counter before. Even if Regina had known there was a slowly decaying corpse in the Ice Palace that would not have stopped her, but she certainly would have hesitated about bursting in there so haphazardly. So she could not stop herself smelling, recognising and nearly throwing up again at the smell – and very quickly the sight – of a boy’s corpse beside one of the tables.

He did not get the same consideration as Paisley, Regina barely giving him a second glance as she made her way between the ice rink and the cafe towards the back entrance. “This clearly happened after we left. I do not remember shootouts and dead kids.”

The words were delivered sharply, almost deadpan as she pushed open the door that led into the area that had once been staff only. I’m sure whoever hosted this season is going to be pissed that there are bullet holes in their furnishings, never mind the fire back at the cabanas. The thought brought a small smile to her lips, and restored a little pragmatism to an otherwise frazzled mind.

It took barely a minute to reach the room where the- she had rested a few days ago, and Regina paused, pressing her ear up against the door and listening for what felt like forever for movement inside. After about thirty seconds she released the breath and opened the door, club half-raised to strike the darkness that greeted her.

“Thank fuck for that,” she whispered under her breath, swinging the door wide open behind her as she limped towards the couch a few feet away, then collapsed onto it unceremoniously. Carefully she removed her backpack, now devoid of most of the cans that she had gathered from here earlier and left behind in the cabana because it had been much too heavy. They already had enough baggage without adding unnecessary weight, after all. It did not take long to fish out the sealed sandwich, rip it open and take a first, hungry bite.

[General Goose]

Vahka thought he was being sneaky.

He'd never been a sneaky guy. Partly that was because of his size, partly that was because Yagmur knew all his tricks. So many times they'd drunkenly tried playing pranks on each other, with no regards for the collateral pranking damage or the conversations they'd interrupt or drinks they'd spill, that Yagmur knew all of Vahka's tricks.

Vahka knew all of Yagmur's too. But Yagmur knew there was probably not much of the Vahka he knew left.

So when he pretended not to notice Vahka's presence, he hoped Vahka missed the twitch in his neck as he flashed his eyes over his shoulder to double-check the identity of the new arrival.

He hoped Vahka missed Yagmur reach into his bag, using the snow and Paisley's body as cover, and pull out his gun.

He hoped Vahka was so convinced that Yagmur was into burying Paisley's body that he would be caught off guard when Yagmur jumped to his feet, twirled around, and aimed his gun straight at his former best friend's face.

"Don't move a muscle," Yagmur said.

He hoped Vahka would comply.

[KamiKaze]

Regina spoke up, saying that the bullet holes and the boy laying on the floor were new, or at least not there when she came by. Bella believed her. She didn’t think there was much of a reason to lie about that, not at this point.

As Bella followed Regina, she caught a closer glimpse anyways.

Colin Pigeon was a boy who went to her school. She remembered him as a mellow person. He drew, and sometimes would sell his artwork on campus. Bella never knew him that well, but it couldn’t stop her eyes from staying on him as she walked, as much as she didn’t want to look.

Even if they were never close, it was still jarring to see his body just laid out like that.

Her pace increased until she was right behind Regina.

Regina put her ear to the door Bella held her breath, getting some of the stench in her mouth and increasing her nausea. After a moment, the door opened, and Regina lifted her club in preparation. An empty staff room greeted them. Bella released her breath, somewhat louder than she realized.

Bella stepped inside, looking around. Growing up, she had been familiar with all sort of green rooms, and while this wasn’t one, it was the same in principle. A table, a couch and a few chairs, even a coffee machine.

She closed the door behind her and placed everything down. Bella absentmindedly rubbed her shoulder for a few seconds. Afterwards, she picked up the pogo stick from where it had been hastily shoved inside her bag. Maybe the door helped, but the smell wasn’t as bad in here. She slid out a bottle of Powerade, and gently smoothed out her dress before she sat down. The pogo stick was across her lap.

Regina had laid down on the couch and was now eating a sandwich. But, Bella was quiet.

Come to think of it, she may had seen Paisley before. Not during the orientation, only one face managed to stick with her during that time. But looking back, she may have seen her at the condos. That was when Eden was with her.

Bella had slid up to the door, and saw Matt Weiss with two girls. Probably not from her school. One with pink hair, and one with orange. She wasn’t sure if it was her mind filling in the blanks, but… that may have been Paisley. And that was the last time she saw Matt.

He had been on the announcements, she remembered. Shot by a name she didn’t know. It wasn’t Paisley, she didn’t think, though the name had flushed out of her memory by this point. Maybe Paisley had to do with it, if it was her.

No, it was her. It seemed like so long ago, but it had to be her.

In a sick way, it may have been a good thing she killed Paisley. Sure, it hurt Regina, Yagmur, and especially Tucker. But what if she didn’t? Paisley had clearly snapped and was in the middle of attacking Regina. For all she knew, she could have played a part in what happened to Matt. If she hadn’t stepped in, Regina could have died. And then who was next? Tucker, Yagmur? Her?

It was the same with Gene. He’d murdered Will, and two girls from the other school. He seemed like the type to go for ten kills, and it was the most she could really do for Will. If she hadn’t, he would have gone on to kill and kill again.

Sometimes she would still feel a pang of raw emotion towards Gene and Paisley. How she had seen them brutalize others, and how they seemed… gone. Not hating them, even now, was the hard part.

And yet, sometimes, memories came back. She would remember Will’s screams as he got beaten. Gene's cursing as a fire extinguisher smashed into his head interrupted her thoughts from time to time. Other times, it was Paisley's insane laughter, or Yagmur's fear and anger.

Bella realized she hadn’t actually been drinking from the bottle at all since she sat down. Instead, she was staring at it, the blue liquid splashing as her hand shook.

She lifted her head to take another look at Regina. She managed to find something to say.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, her voice quiet.

[Imehal*]

It was not clear when it had started – an hour, a few hours – but Regina realised that she was aware of Bella’s presence the entire time she had been moving, eyes on the injured girl before her. Being hyper-aware of her surroundings was no new thing; it had been a practised behaviour ever since Christian had left. Ever since she had started viewing the vast majority of people as means to an end, or simply just human beings that were part of her life. No need to stress about how they felt, unless she needed them at the time. It had been that way until Ashley, until Douglas... until Vahka.

Now all she had instead was the nagging insistence that Bella was on the verge of a breakdown and that that could not be allowed to happen. But did it really matter, when she could not win now?

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be!"

What was the path forward, and could she find it before the game defeated her?

“Paisley wanted me to stop fighting her, Bella.” There was a grunt as Regina adjusted herself on the couch so that she was sat upright to give her teammate more room, and carefully rested her hand on her ally’s shoulder. It had to be about the deaths that had been at her hand; Bella had been stronger before Paisley – more self-assured. “Gene murdered my friend,” a small lie, required, “right in front of my eyes before he did this to me. It hurts like hell, but I can walk on it with painkillers. I’ll manage.

“Whoever you’ve hurt, remember that they would have hurt someone else if you had not stepped in. No matter what Yagmur or any other self-righteous,” take a breath Regina, calm, “says, this is not like the real world. The same rules do not apply. Think in terms of the lives you have saved, or this game will drive you mad long before you die.”

Casually she swiped the bottle from Bella, smiling ever so slightly as she passed half of her sandwich across in payment, taking a long drink without missing a beat. It felt, just for a moment, like she could pretend that she was in the basement, talking strategy with her father.

Regina was no fool. She knew Vahka, unless he was on their team by some miracle, was not going to make it home, and Douglas and Yagmur were too principled to do what needed to be done. Bella could make it, and she would carry them as long as she could. That was enough. It had to be.

[Latin For Dragula]

So that's how it was gonna play. Even Yags couldn't hold it together five seconds without waving a gun towards him. Couldn't say he blamed him, really.

Vahka paused for a moment, staring blankly into Yagmur's eyes. The correct move, the choreographed move, was to charge and yell to hell with his bleeding foot. Take a shot or two, if need be, but close the distance. Hit him hard and don't stop until there were two bodies left lying in the snow.

He didn't move. Instead, he let his eyes drift downward, tracing over his arms. There were a few bandages here and there, some cuts he'd missed, the occasional bruise marring his work, but he could still make them out. His crows. His companions. His heritage.

Family had been far from his mind since he woke up. Anything he'd let slip in from his personal life had just been for show, little things to humanize himself and keep the audience intrigued and guessing. False glimpses behind the curtain. That was all he could afford.

Bleeding in the cold with another gun to his head, though, he felt them there. They'd always been with him, but he didn't want to acknowledge them. Didn't want to drag them down with him. Didn't want to let one of them drag him away from what was needed. They pressed closer than ever now, hovering about his shoulders as he looked over their torn and obscured names within the crows. Even as he shut his eyes to keep them out, they came to him.

------

He saw the shivering, stooped mass of a man staring into his empty wooden bowl within the drab confines of the mess hall. Felt the weariness as he rose and shambled towards the fenced-off counter, barely holding himself together between the starvation and the rolling, boiling fury that built up in his gut. The crack of the bowl smacking against the counter and wobbling back and forth echoed through the silent room.

As it died out, the distinct clack of the Kalashnikov echoed from the door frame behind them. He turned, in his mind, just as the man turned to face the guard, and the barrel of the gun.

His great-grandfather's eyes sparkled as he stared into the sights. For a brief moment, he smiled.

Then he broke into a lumbering, stilted gait towards the door.

------

There was no more mess hall, nor rows of huddled prisoners. There was only a long, dark, quiet street, and his grandfather's heavy footsteps. Grozny was muddled and indistinct as he walked its streets beside him. It wasn't his home. He was only here for the old man.

Up along the road, under one of the dim streetlights, were two men. They gestured towards his grandfather, called for him in a language he couldn't quite understand. He didn't need to. The casual parting of their coats to display the revolvers in their waistbands told him enough.

The rest of the exchange became predictable. The slight hesitation. The tension in his grandfather's body. The sudden rush.

The smile. His smile.

------

He'd always had a good picture of what would happen if someday he just never came back home. By now, his father was used to him disappearing with Yags or Ronnie or any of the trouble they brought, but if he vanished and his father had reasonable certainty that he was never coming back, he knew how things would go. He knew because it wasn't the first time someone had simply disappeared from Danilbek's life. It might not even be the last.

The first night he'd vanished with one of Ronnie's parties and neglected to call home, he expected anger when he'd returned home. Anger, disappointment, questions, something other than the deep sorrow and relief that surrounded him with Danilbek's arms as he walked in through the front door. It was clear he'd been crying. Crying and drinking.

Later, they sat together in the workshop and smoked. A somber, quiet cough echoed from his father's throat before he brought his gaze back to Vahka's eyes.

"I barely knew my father, Vahka. He never knew his, and he never knew his. It's a curse, they say, for our family. So the day you were born, I held you in my arms, and I prayed. I prayed to any god who would listen, 'Please. Please don't take me from him. Let me see my son become a man.' "

He looked down at the floor again, and puffed thoughtfully at his cigar. "Today, when you weren't here...I am not a superstitious man, my son, you know this. But there is a part of me that believes all pacts are double-sided, and you cannot be given a gift without paying a price."

Tears welled up in the old man's cold, blue eyes, only to be blinked away and forgotten. "Forgive my ghosts, boy. Next time, send a word so they will not haunt me."

He could see him now, clearer than the others had been. He could see their home as his father walked through the halls with a large, cardboard box, slowly taking down each picture of a son who would not be coming home. Each step was measured. There was no anger, no passion, in the act. That was what it was, after all: an act. A ritual, developed over a lifetime of loss and struggle, to channel the pain into manageable doses. To do what needed to be done, and move on.

There would be no rage from his father. No valiant charge. No tensed, powerful limbs ready to swing.

No smile.

Only acceptance, and the act. The rest would come later, in their own time. For now, all that mattered was the act.

------

Vahka saw them all, in the brief moment he let his eyes shut to keep them away. The weight of everything he knew, from the finest details to the blurriest strokes, pressed upon him.

There had to be an act. The show had to be kept going. But maybe now, just for a little while, the act could diverge. Defiance, anger, confidence...all had their place. But he knew where they led today. He could feel, with every pulsing ache across his beaten body, where they had taken him so far.

With a heavy sigh, he let the tension ease out of his body, and met Yagmur's gaze once more.

"I'm tired, Yags," he rumbled wearily."So damn tired. Tired of crazy assholes. Tired a' fights. Not here for that."

He gave a slow, brief nod towards Paisley's body. "Just here for her. Like I promised."

[General Goose]

Yagmur almost let his gun down. His arms even began to relax a bit, the tension in the joints beginning to relieve, before he stopped himself.

This might have been his trick. That might have been his modus operandi. No, Yagmur wasn't going to let their past friendship, the orthodoxies of their past relationship, get in the way of his own survival. No. His arms tensed up again, the gun remaining focused on Vahka.

"Two questions." He was giving Vahka an opportunity to think he might earn Yagmur's trust. Yagmur had no idea if Vahka could actually say anything that could convince him to lower his gun and lower his suspicions. He couldn't think of anything. But maybe Vahka could present a brilliant and irrefutable argument that Yagmur just couldn't imagine, or maybe Yagmur's emotions will get weak and get the better of him. He had to be cognizant of the latter possibility.

"Question one. Why the fuck do you care about Paisley? Question two. What the fuck have you been doing? All this killing and murder?"

[Wham Yubeesling]

((Michael Robinson continued from Red Sun))

Michael had entered the Ice Palace through the front door. He and Zoe had discussed this back in the casino, and they decided that the Ice Palace was the best place for them to set up operations, considering its size and the options it gave for an attack. Admittedly, they were going to use the Boardwalk again, but it had become a dangerzone. Oh well, it didn’t matter that much, all they needed to do was to get in an area, set up base, and stay there.

And, seeing that nobody was in the café area, Michael was under the assumption that he and Zoe were alone here.

Well, that wasn’t true. There was a corpse on the table. Boy, green hair, had bullet wounds all over his body. Michael wasn’t sure who he was, or who killed him, but it didn’t really matter now. It might be a good idea to hide his body in a closet or something before someone got the wrong idea, though.

He decided to sit down first, though. He was somewhat exhausted from walking the whole length of the beach, and if he was in a situation where he was forced to fight someone, it would be better if he was fresh and ready to go beforehand.

He didn’t want to fight, nor did he want to kill, but that didn’t mean that he was going to lay down and die when somebody attacked him.

He signaled to Zoe to come sit down with him. "You're probably tired from walking down the beach. Sit down, nobody's going to attack you."

[Ohm]

((Zoe Walker continued from Red Sun))

They had gotten to the Ice Palace, Zoe didn't know how long they had walked from the beach, but it felt long, with the dangerzones herding everyone closer to each other, they needed a good spot.

The plan was to get to the boardwalk and set up an ambush spot, but of course the producers decided to make it a danger zone, bunch of jackasses. So they settled for second best, it wasn't as big as the boardwalk, but could still be made reasonably good

For the most part the place looked empty, except for the Cäfe, there was a body on the table, some blonde kid she didn't recognise, probably from the other school.

Michael signaled to her to sit at the table, ignoring the corpse that was right on the table.

"Alright, but just for a bit."

She walked over and sat down besides him, she poked at the corpse with the bat.

"So, where do you think we can stuff this guy before the place stinks up?"

[Latin For Dragula]

"Made a promise. Just like I said."

Yagmur hadn't shot him yet. Maybe that meant something. Maybe it didn't. It was nice to talk, though, with somebody he could understand. Yags wasn't the guy he knew back home anymore, that was clear, but he was a damn sight more lucid than most here. No bullshit theatrics, no lies, no insanity. Just straight to the point.

He glanced down at the dead girl before pushing forward. "Tucker was...is, one of my best friends. You know that. And Pia..."

His eyes traced back up to Yagmur's. For the first time, he let the just the slimmest etchings of sadness show. "I didn't want to put her down, Yags. Honest to god. She was already dyin', though, and she asked me two things: End it, and look after Paisley."

The reassuring bite of the sword's grip pressed into his hand. "The rest of it's pretty simple. They came at me, I finished what they started." His voice grew low and sad. "What would you do, if somebody promised that, if you let them walk away, they'd be back to kill you and almost everybody you ever cared about just as quick as they could. How the fuck do you respond to that, Yags?"

It was the truth, more or less, discounting a few creative revisions. It was the truth he was going to operate under, at least. That was just the nature of the act.

[General Goose]

"Like I can fucking believe that!"

That was a lie.

Yagmur could believe that. Maybe Vahka had been like Bella - a few mistakes, certainly, but actions that might very well be....justifiable, if not justified. Maybe it was really as simple as he'd said. Maybe he was guilty of no more a crime than an overzealous self-defence, and that was no crime at all.

It was possible. It was plausible. It was logical.

And it would be so easy for Yagmur to accept it without putting himself in too much danger. Accepting it at face-value did not mean lowering his guard, after all.

But he wouldn't.

"I don't believe you, man. You've changed. I can tell." His voice shook, but his aim was steady. He didn't look at Vahka's body or supplies, he didn't want Vahka to think his view was based on how he looked. It wasn't.

He blinked a couple of times. Clearing his mind, yes. "I saw that Taylor guy. He didn't look threatening at all. You know why. And you'd thrown him out of a goddamn tower."

He'd spent the whole game knowing his friend had changed. One quick mea culpa wasn't gonna change that. He didn't want it to change that. He didn't want all his passion, all his fears, to be for naught.

"And Vincent. Why him? I can't believe that. And....a mercy kill? Really?"

He swallowed, and blinked again.

"But I could use a hand." He lowered his gun, just enough to show...goodwill, but not too much to show vulnerability. "I...well, I don't know how to show respect to the dead."