"Now?" He sighed softly. "Now, we get patched up. Back on our feet. We honor the dead." He took a deep breath, shoving down the pain once more, and hauled himself to his feet. It took some convincing to get her to leave Max's body where it lay, though he did fold the boy's hands over his chest--<i>Dammit, Max. I wanted to like you.</i>--before he carried Malia to the infirmary. He joined the line waiting for access to TRIM, since there were a few emergency cases that had to go through the machine immediately, and while the wound on her leg troubled him he knew she wasn't going to die in seconds. While they waited he patched up her smaller wounds and let her do the same for him, wiping away the blood as well as they could in a crowded medical ward.<br/><br/>Sunny had been moved. No doubt Natya had taken her somewhere more quiet... though he couldn't imagine anywhere in Central was bereft of blood and bodies right now.<br/><br/>While they waited a Strider he didn't recognize came and asked Carson to follow him outside. Carson politely but firmly declined. He had business here. The other man didn't seem to know what to do, but eventually left Carson to it when Carson told him to start gathering the Vanguard corpses to be burnt. He saw Malia through the machine, though felt a spike of panic when it returned some unusual results. He was worried that the poison that had afflicted Sunny would be in Lia's veins now, too--but no. TRIM simply dismissed the abnormal chemical mix, and Carson escorted her back to their room to get a change of clothes. The bodies had been mostly dragged out by then, though the blood from Sarah's demise remained in a stagnant pool on the floor of the CIC.<br/><br/>Once he'd replaced his torn and bloodied clothes he gave Malia a tired kiss. He smiled at her, calm and quiet. Somehow he felt at peace, now; if they had come through this and survived, somehow, then they could come through damn near anything else. As tired as he felt, though, and as ready as he was to just lay down and let his body mend, there was still so much left to do. He spent just a few minutes with her in silence before he left, allowing her to come or stay as she pleased. He wouldn't blame her if she wanted to just forget for a while, all the carnage and the chaos. Regardless, the first thing he did was go to Max. He picked the boy up and carried him outside, then turned away from where the new Striders were taking all of the Vanguard corpses.<br/><br/>Instead he took the boy a ways from the doors of Central, to a patch of trees just beginning to grow. There he put the boy to rest, wrapped tight in the coat he might have someday earned. When it was done he leaned on his shovel, watching the skyline. A thick black plume of smoke was curling over the horizon, a spot at least a couple of miles from Central. He had no doubt it was where the Striders had decided to burn the bodies. With a heavy sigh he planted the shovel and made his way across the lumpy, uneven ground to the site. The stench was thick as he drew near, and he could see that those working closest to the fires had thick scarves over their faces. Even with the smoke and the stink, it didn't take him long to find her.<br/><br/>Carson knelt down next to his half-sister. With her eyes closed, stripped of her furs and cruel weapons, she almost looked sweet. Like someone he could have come to care for as family. The fabric wrapped tight around her body was designed to burn, designed to make the transition from flesh to ash as easy as possible. He stayed with her until they came to add her to the pile, and he watched without saying a word as Sarah was thrown into the pile, added to the fire. Another soul lost to this war. His father's war. His war. He turned to head back to Central, drained and exhausted, his mind curiously blank as he trudged through the grass under the smoke-blackened sky.<br/>"Now?" He sighed softly. "Now, we get patched up. Back on our feet. We honor the dead." He took a deep breath, shoving down the pain once more, and hauled himself to his feet. It took some convincing to get her to leave Max's body where it lay, though he did fold the boy's hands over his chest--<i>Dammit, Max. I wanted to like you.</i>--before he carried Malia to the infirmary. He joined the line waiting for access to TRIM, since there were a few emergency cases that had to go through the machine immediately, and while the wound on her leg troubled him he knew she wasn't going to die in seconds. While they waited he patched up her smaller wounds and let her do the same for him, wiping away the blood as well as they could in a crowded medical ward.<br/><br/>Sunny had been moved. No doubt Natya had taken her somewhere more quiet... though he couldn't imagine anywhere in Central was bereft of blood and bodies right now.<br/><br/>While they waited a Strider he didn't recognize came and asked Carson to follow him outside. Carson politely but firmly declined. He had business here. The other man didn't seem to know what to do, but eventually left Carson to it when Carson told him to start gathering the Vanguard corpses to be burnt. He saw Malia through the machine, though felt a spike of panic when it returned some unusual results. He was worried that the poison that had afflicted Sunny would be in Lia's veins now, too--but no. TRIM simply dismissed the abnormal chemical mix, and Carson escorted her back to their room to get a change of clothes. The bodies had been mostly dragged out by then, though the blood from Sarah's demise remained in a stagnant pool on the floor of the CIC.<br/><br/>Once he'd replaced his torn and bloodied clothes he gave Malia a tired kiss. He smiled at her, calm and quiet. Somehow he felt at peace, now; if they had come through this and survived, somehow, then they could come through damn near anything else. As tired as he felt, though, and as ready as he was to just lay down and let his body mend, there was still so much left to do. He spent just a few minutes with her in silence before he left, allowing her to come or stay as she pleased. He wouldn't blame her if she wanted to just forget for a while, all the carnage and the chaos. Regardless, the first thing he did was go to Max. He picked the boy up and carried him outside, then turned away from where the new Striders were taking all of the Vanguard corpses.<br/><br/>Instead he took the boy a ways from the doors of Central, to a patch of trees just beginning to grow. There he put the boy to rest, wrapped tight in the coat he might have someday earned. When it was done he leaned on his shovel, watching the skyline. A thick black plume of smoke was curling over the horizon, a spot at least a couple of miles from Central. He had no doubt it was where the Striders had decided to burn the bodies. With a heavy sigh he planted the shovel and made his way across the lumpy, uneven ground to the site. The stench was thick as he drew near, and he could see that those working closest to the fires had thick scarves over their faces. Even with the smoke and the stink, it didn't take him long to find her.<br/><br/>Carson knelt down next to his half-sister. With her eyes closed, stripped of her furs and cruel weapons, she almost looked sweet. Like someone he could have come to care for as family. The fabric wrapped tight around her body was designed to burn, designed to make the transition from flesh to ash as easy as possible. He stayed with her until they came to add her to the pile, and he watched without saying a word as Sarah was thrown into the pile, added to the fire. Another soul lost to this war. His father's war. His war. He turned to head back to Central, drained and exhausted, his mind curiously blank as he trudged through the grass under the smoke-blackened sky.