Ruminations of a Survivor

[AuruemSaber]

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As the tranquil calm fades away, and the rest of the world begins to come flooding back in, a realization comes to light. Time blurred as I remained idle these past months; things changed for everyone. Everyone but me, that is. Purpose continued to evade me and I did nothing to try and search for it.

Pure coincidence was the only reason I went to the Gate to check on Jason. Nobody else was free at the time he went silent.

But when I arrived, I get the message it was just a false alarm. He somehow managed to get so distracted to ignore calls or messages for multiple days, don't know how, but to be honest it suited me fine as I still can't really talk to Jason after all this time. I should have been back on Canaria by now, where I have called home in the months since the rescue operation.

Yet, I linger in Coronado, unable to leave and return to the Omegas. It would be easy to blame hanging around on the fact that Kris apparently calls the Gate home now or on the whole new mess we seem to be in now, one consisting of mixed messages and even more mixed feelings. The uncertainty of it all makes me feel as though it’s a perfectly valid explanation. Alas however, I know he is not the reason for it.

The truth is this issue spawned even before I learned as much; Cal's minor jobs thrown my way were eagerly accepted. And I cannot attribute it to seeking the thrill of combat, not with how simple and low-level everything was. Or the fact that one of them was just collecting meds.

Hell, it wasn't even as though I was avoiding Canaria, by and large, just Aspen's apartment itself. Even if I may not share her gift, it was plain to see she felt at a loss with how I was. My time was spent doing little of note, just training and staying fit before sleeping and repeating the cycle.

At the very least, I'm now spared the guilt of feeling like a burden, one only tolerated due to perceived debts. Yet, despite that fact, all the years of fighting and intelligence work leave me feeling like a weapon that has been long discarded.

A weapon with nothing to be aimed at, a soldier with no cause to believe in, and without even the excuses that justify returning to the mercenary lifestyle that being broke afforded. There is no chance to drown my thoughts in the adrenaline that comes with the chaos of combat.

And I am left with 'nought but my own thoughts. And the only thing on my mind is that my refuge at the Gate has not solved anything. I still lack purpose, which means the unexpected arrival of Alex and the Spirit brings along a bitter feeling.

One I'll inevitably have to confront; I cannot pretend to not know he is here. Too many people know, and I refuse to risk hurting him by avoiding him.

Still, for the moment, it gives me something to do, even if it's as simple as showing my face and congratulating him and his crew on their victory. I owe Alex that little, at least.

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