Neil sat alone in the room, save for Sergeant Valentine. As he stared at the sleeping man, Neil flexed his right hand. It might have been his imagination, Natalie had said that the mind could play funny tricks when it came to the prosthetics. But he felt like every metal piece that made up his hand, his arm, shoulder, leg, foot, even down to the plating of his skull and chest; it all felt cold. And he felt like every single small, intricate part was glaring in its clarity, even though he didn’t even know most of the parts, even of a natural hand.

It all felt wrong, and it itched. He had spent every waking moment since they had brought him out of sedation hating the artificial limbs, and hating Vance for putting him through it. Ever since he had woken up. The only other thing that had been a constant was the absolute truth that he should have died on Mars. With the rest of his soldiers.

Clenching his fist until another trick of the mind told him that he could feel metal clinking, he brought his eyes back up. Valentine was looking at him, where a moment later his eyes had been closed, and breathing heavy. “Sergeant Ziggenbor.” He said.

Neil put his hands deliberately on his legs. “Sergeant Valentine.”

“Not pretty, is it.” Valentine tried to strain and look down, before shaking his head. “Ah, forget it, those fuckers covered me up again.

They had. Neil had been in the room when the while medical blanket had been draped over the stumps of Valentine’s legs. He had missed the bandages go over his chest and arm, but Neil could imagine as he clenched his right hand again.

“You saw though?” Valentine coughed. “Those shiny new legs they gave me, they took em back. You’re good though.” He nodded. “You getting the feel for them?”

Neil didn’t say anything, but he looked down, feeling guilty about his resentment. Even with the shock of his new self, he couldn’t imagine being repaired as he had, and then having it stripped away.

“Hey, short stuff.” Valentine waved his good hand. “Never thought to ask them to bring you up to six foot, did ya?”

“Didn’t get the chance, Sarg—“

“Nope.” Valentine winced, shanking his head. “Fuck no, no, that’s not how this is gonna go. We are way past that.”

Neil blinked. “I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, well, if I pull someone’s ass out of a bad spot it usually earns them a beer. I pull someone out of that shit stain of a situation you were in, you’re not gonna worry about my rank any more.” Valentine held out his hand with a grimace, and Neil reached to shake it very gently, and uncertain. “It’s Val. Or Jack, I don’t give a fuck which.”

“Neil. Or Ziggenbor, I guess.”

“Ziggenbor?” Valentine grinned at the ceiling. “A lot you can do with that. Zig?”

“Taken.”

“Ziggy?”

“Not worthy of that one.”

Valentine looked back at him, a pensive expression on his face. “Z.”

“Taken. Collectively.”

“Well fuck.” Valentine resumed his study of the ceiling. “Gotta do something with that. Thanks for coming up.”

Nodding, Neil remained mostly still but for the almost habit like flexing of his right hand. “I’m sorry about your squad.”

“No, don’t do that either.” Valentine said, his eyes coming back around, and levering himself up an inch. “You wont, and I wont.”

“What do…”

“How many people have been telling you about how sorry they are that your battalion's gone?”

“Quite a few.”

“Yeah, you like hearing that? I bet you don’t. I don’t like hearing it anymore than that.” He laid back down wincing. “Look, Neil, there’s gonna be a time when we hash it out. It’s gonna happen, I’ve seen it. Two guys who got put through hell together on different parts of the board, and there’s always something there. We’ll get there. But it ain’t gonna be us telling each other how sorry we are that we lost people. That’s part of this shit we signed up for.” He sighed. “Look man, you’re gonna be up here a lot. You got your reasons, and I don’t much care about those. They’re not my reasons. And I’m gonna be sleeping a lot. Just… you need to talk something out, just say it while I’m sleeping.”

“Not a lot of good that’ll do you.”

Valentine turned his head. “You think it’s for me?” He shook his head. “They’re gonna but the best in front of us, you and me. You’re not gonna tell them any more than I am, I think, cause we’re rocks. Soldiers are like trying to squeeze water from a rock when it comes to emotion.” He sighed. “Look, if you stay up here I’m gonna be talking to you. Just because you’re here, and you were there. After a while maybe I’ll be able to do it while you’re awake.” He closed his eyes. “Till then…”

Of course Neil was silent. Though the reputation of all soldiers was to drop and sleep, a solid ten minutes before Neil even allowed himself to think again. But as he did, he realized that Valentine was right, at least about the things that Neil could string together. Because being in that room was comforting, despite the inexplicable negativity he felt.

“Or maybe it is explainable.” Neil said. It felt wrong, even though he could see the monitors reading all the vitals at rest. “I guess there’s going to be a lot of bad that I’m feeling that seems like it’s coming from no where. But maybe it’s just coming from everywhere. That would be easier.” He leaned back in his chair and put up the foot rest, leaning his head back. “I don’t get it, Valentine.” He muttered. But I came up here for you. To see you, so that you could see me. So that you could feel some peace about your loss. And I know I shouldn’t… but I’m fighting with myself. Part of me thinks you should have done more.” He watched the sleeping Sergeant for a minutes. “But another part of me thinks that if I had, you wouldn’t have needed to be there in the first place.”

There he sat for an hour before falling asleep himself, and when he woke there was a blanket draped over him. Valentine was easing, and Natalie was there to collect him back for more of the dismal and miserable routines that he was subject to. Neil did them in silence this time, pushing himself where he could, and trying to listen to the wrong limbs when he couldn’t.

When they were done, Natalie helped him back to his chair. “Back up to Sergeant Valentine?”

Neil nodded, but when they got to the room, Valentine had been moved. “You’re up sooner than I expected, Apprentice.” Nurse Rayne said, bustling out of the room. “Your charge isn’t skimping on his therapy, I hope?”

“No ma’am.” Natalie said. “Do you know where Sergeant Valentine is?”

“Yes, he’a with the Colonel, and I’ll take you there. You’ll need to wait outside till they’re done talking over Valentine’s options.” Together they went to another, more casual seeming wing of the hospital, and arrived at a large double door as Colonel Vance stepped out. “Nurse, Apprentice.” He turned to Neil. “Sergeant.”

“Sir.” Neil said, his voice strained.

“He’s eating again. That man is ravenous, nurse.”

“He’d rather eat than make me angry, sir.” Rayne beamed. “Especially in his current condition, he needs it.”

“Indeed.” He turned his gaze on Natalie. “Apprentice, I would watch your messages in the next few days, there’s going to be some interesting things coming down the pipeline.”

Her eyes widened. “Assignments.”

“I did not say that,” he said, though his gaze betrayed all. “But I would have your dress uniform in order if I were you. Just in case.”

The Colonel walked away, and Neil blinked up at her. “What did all that mean?”

“It means,” Natalie said with a smile. “That promotions are coming down to the pipeline, and with promotions comes orders to a research station. Sometimes by yourself, but usually to a place with subjects in your field of study, and sometimes with other new Journeymen.”

Neil smiled. “Any chance you could get assigned here?”

“No, actually.” Her face fell a little bit. “Journeymen usually get cycled back through later in their rank cycle, while they’re deciding which route to go but… but I’m sure that I’ll be around for a while longer.”

“Nah, not that.” Neil said. “Don’t worry about that. Nurse, do you know why they moved him?”

Without answering, Nurse Rayne pushed open one of the doors.

“I’m fucking eating!” Valentine yelled around a mouthful of food. “Begone, witch!”

Neil took in the room. It looked much the same as the last one had, though this one was much wider, and had a second, much less medical looking bed in the opposite wall from where Valentine was sitting. He grinned. “The nameless man.”

“I’ve got a name, ass.”

“And now you’ve got a bed.” He said, filling his spoon with mashed potatoes. “Say thank you.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought you were going to roll out of that chair and fucking die last night, that’s why.” Valentine said. “And you were so deeply asleep that no matter how I yelled I couldn’t wake your ass up.”

Natalie looked down. “You didn’t tell me you slept well last night.”

“That’s because I woke up feeling like a batch of spare parts in a machine shop.” Neil grumbled.

“I’ll get you some food.” Natalie said. After she returned, Neil ate, and when the day had died, he slept. But in his sleep he only dreamed of the thwump-chunking sound of an apes, and the hissing noise that grew every closer until he would wake up. It was never a jolt, it was never a start when he did, in fact the line between that and wakefulness was often something he couldn’t just pinpoint.

This time, however, when he was awake, he heard something. The soft snuffling that was unmistakable to anyone who had raised a child. He laid there, unmoving, trying to hold the cadence of his breathing. Valentine retched out words through the sobs, but Neil couldn’t catch them. He tired to ignore Valentine, but couldn’t. So Neil lay there until the sounds subsided.

“They’re all dead.” Valentine whispered. “And I don’t know how to make that right in my head. But you’re here. And as long as you are, they didn’t die for nothing.” Again there was a pause. “I’m probably feeling the same shit you are, Zigzag. We’re just looking at it from different angles. I’ll be angry, I’ll be relived, I’ll be fucking miserable. But I got you out, and and that makes it all worth it. Even if I don’t believe it just yet, it’s truer than most is right now. And I’ll keep telling myself it till I believe it.”

Then it was all small sounds again till they were gone, replaced by the gently breathing of Valentine before it morphed into the steadier cadence of sleep. Neil opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling, the feeling in his stomach indescribable as he contemplated the cruelty of fate. Even as his thoughts went there, though, words that he would carry with him bubbled back up through his memories. He closed his eyes, but it was a mistake. The face of Major Darrow swam before him, the words she had said that night burning through him as he remembered the shame.

This was what he had signed up for.

Rage replaced for the shame as Major Darrow’s face shimmered away, replaced by the steady, business like countenance of Colonel Vance. The man responsible for his survival, and Neil thought then that he may never forgive him for the decisions he had been saddled with.

But, Neil thought with bitter shame again, that was what the man had signed up for too.