-Lemony Snicket

"Listen, be angry later - can you go help Seras and Sophia make sure these corpses are put down for good? I need to help Etriyya."

"Listen here, ya half-brain, if you singed one of these tattoos and I catch on fire because you messed up my flow, I'm kicking your ass next. Wasn't for that …"

The woman continued to grumble as she strode out of the room, her blazing aura still present around her. It seemed strongest around the multiple tattoos covering her body; most were flower-like, but many symbols or languages John did not fully recognize. The Gamer didn't have much time to focus on such things with Etriyya bleeding out on the floor, so as soon as he was sure she intended to help Seras and the others, John knelt by the Knight's side and started to funnel mana from Sophia, counting on the newly released prisoner to help them deal with the corpses if they were having any troubles.

"If Gaia has any mercy, don't die on me, Etriyya," John mumbled, placing a hand over the wounds. Much to his surprise, John got a response.

"If Gaia had any mercy, I'd have the authority to beat you until you started to have some common sense and respect for privacy. Gaia isn't merciful, John - she's fair, and harshly so."

"That's… not really what I expected to hear from a Knight of the Order, I'm not going to lie. I'm just glad to hear you still breathing."

"Breathing is… a strong word," Etriyya grunted, wincing slightly as she spoke. "Given that I've got one functional lung and what feels like half a liver right now… how bad does it look?"

"Not bad for much longer," John noted, increasing his mana output. In spite of his words, and his clearly decreasing mana bar, Etriyya's health stuck at the halfway mark and her wounds did not fully heal themselves, as every other wound John had ever used Lesser Heal on had. Her blood loss did stop as he channeled the spell, and some of the outer flesh seemed to seal away its broken edges, but the holes in her chest never closed, and her breathing remained extremely labored.

"Okay… that's not great."

"These are wounds inflicted by a fairly powerful Necromancer, John… you aren't going to close them with such a basic spell."

"Still lecturing me, even with a hole in your chest?"

Etriyya laughed bitterly, the sound emanating from her closer to a coughing and wet hack when her damaged lung tried and failed to function properly.

"Trying to save my own life… move your hand over, but keep healing."

Wincing with the effort of raising her head up, Etriyya started to channel a golden light alongside John's own green, flowing mana. Slowly but surely the edges of the wound finally started to close, a slightly discolored skin covering the renewing bone, muscle, and organ tissue below.

"Shit… that's gonna take some extra effort to get rid of. Maybe I'll keep it for a while. It can remind me not to jump in front of dumbasses who can phase out of reality! Seriously, how long have you been able to do that?!"

"Uh, I dunno, since about… maybe shortly after we met? It's all kind of blurring together at this point, honestly."

"And I've never even seen you use it before," Etriyya sighed, shaking her head. "Many would die to be capable of the things you hardly even make use of."

"I literally never held a weapon before this month," John protested, but neither of them bothered to discuss the matter further. They both knew it was true - John's battles thus far had been a mixture of dumb luck and brute **** carrying him through where tactics and skill had failed him.

"Why did you jump in front of me, anyway?"

"Why do you think? I was trying to save you," Etriyya grumbled as they finished weaving over the last of her first hole and moved on to the second. John was **** fully deplete his summons’ mana bars to heal her now, something he was only comfortable with due to both of their health bars being over half and the fact that the combat outside was already starting to fade in intensity.

"Yeah, but… why? I thought you hated me?"

"I do hate you."

The sheer bluntness of it, the way she didn't even hesitate, made John visibly flinch. Perhaps he'd been watching too many movies lately - the hesitant mumblings of "I don't… hate you," so fresh in his mind.

"But then… why-"

"If, after forcing me to divulge all that, you still have such a terrible impression of me… then you know nothing, John Newman," Etriyya growled. The moment that her second wound had closed fully, she tore John's hand away from herself and stood up, her bare skin still exposed through the two new holes in her armor. Despite the obvious pain still present on her face, she held herself with composure as she strode out of the room, very nearly bumping into the pair of curious onlookers. Seras and Sophia were bunched up there, though the woman who John hadn't caught the name of was nowhere to be found.

"She's been narky all afternoon, 'asn't she?" Seras muttered, glancing back toward John.

"She understands British slang," John warned, causing Seras to hastily cover her mouth and send a worried look back down the hall.

"Father, are you alright? I did not wish to abandon you, but I also did not wish to disobey you and leave your flank unguarded… these creatures were quite difficult to slay permanently."

Sophia was standing quite normally, but John couldn't help but notice the crimson streaks across her wings. Although she was attempting to hide it, there was also a pool of blood growing at her legs. Whatever wounds she was concealing were too many for John, and he made a mental note that regardless of what damage his allies may or may not display to his Gamer abilities, they might still be in need of attention.

"Sophia, you've been hurt?"

John phrased it as a question, and he got the response he expected - Sophia actually hid her wings away, wincing as they started glowing, then faded out and seeped into her back. The blood pool continued to grow, telling John that not all was well merely because her extremities had been withdrawn. John could clearly see tears and gaps in the garment she wore, but none of them were so large as to cause immediate concern.

"Father, I have no wounds that should trouble you. What are your orders, now that this abomination has been dealt with?"

"My orders are that you should come over here and let me inspect you."

"F-father… I…"

Sophia muttered those words even as she hesitantly strode forward, gripping one elbow shyly as she slowly approached John. Knowing she would never willingly allow him to inspect her, John chose the bold approach - before Sophia could stand and brace herself, John caught her mid stride and placed himself beside the Harpy, lifting up her clothing. Everything she wore was slightly too large due to Seras' superior bust and just a bit too short due to Sophia's increased height; while the overall effect was something John intended to fix by customizing some garments for the Harpy, it was at the moment allowing John to easily reveal her skin to those around him.

"Please, there is no need for this.”

"Hush, Sophia," John whispered, wanting to say more but somewhat unable to. There were numerous, almost uncountable, lacerations underneath the fabric of the jacket once he pulled it back. No individual wound screamed danger to him, nothing seemed immediately fatal. Instead, her back had become a field of individual wounds that together sung a song of a woman pressing herself to her limits and thrusting herself into the heart of combat.

Here, John could see the trench dug by a projectile striking too close to home. There, a black webbing of tainted energies emanated from a central striking point. Blood wept from skin so close to healing itself yet constantly wrenched apart by the determined and unyielding motions of the muscles underneath, each driven by an unbreakable will.

"Father, whatever you see, it is only a minor wound. I can-"

"Nothing that you or any other creation of mine suffers is a 'minor' wound," John countered, choosing to forego his dwindling mana and directly Siphoned health into Sophia. It didn't directly close the multiple wounds that Sophia had suffered, but it did max out her health and stopped the flow of blood over several seconds.

"Father… to care so deeply about someone so weak, to nurture so closely those who are holding back the nest…"

"Stop, just… stop, Sophia," John muttered, trying to meet her gaze seriously without seeming overly harsh or as if he were glaring at her. "I want to understand your culture, I want to understand what ideals you bring to life, Sophia… but more than anything, the more you tell me about them, the more I want to separate what we are from what they were. Let me start by saying this - I care about you. I care for more than what you are as a warrior, for more than what you can do for me on the field of battle. You are precious to me simply by being that which you are, whatever you choose to be."

"Father, please, let me show you I can continue, let me ser-"

"Sophia, please re-examine your own standards by those I have tried to set for you. Every battle is not a test, and I will not shame you for faltering or showing weakness. You were born into a world of war, and have not hesitated to set one foot in front of the other as the world you were presented with rose up against you. You have met every request I made of you, and exceeded every bar I set. You wait until you are nearly collapsed before you tell me you are tired, and would bleed out long before admitting a wound too great to continue. You want to be infallible, where I have scarcely gone a day without bungling my own way through things."

"You know, 'e's right," Seras noted, half to herself and half to Sophia. "I mean, even I saved 'im, an' I barely know wot I'm doin'."

"So not helpful," John grumbled.

"I see only a Father worthy of feats far greater than mine, who has provided home and care far greater than I am to believe I deserve…" Sophia muttered, shaking her head. "To raise my expectations without reason seems vain, as well as the peak of arrogance. I have done nothing any other Harpy could not. I believe you deserve more, yet you would ask me to expect more with nothing in return for your generosity. Such a Father is far beyond my worth-"

John silenced Sophia the only way he knew how - the only way he hoped would throw her off her game long enough to not notice as he proceeded to channel her own mana as well as his into one last Lesser Heal to finish off the remnants of her multitude of wounds. John pressed his lips against Sophia's with a need and intensity he hadn't expected, and as her body pressed against his, John's only wonder was why he had never indulged in such hedonism before. John signaled Seras to join them, and a moment later there were two bodies pressing back against him. One was cold, but giving, its soft curves and tough fibers spreading themselves against him and his new assailant. The other was hot, spicy, and yet almost uncertain. Sophia and Seras lavished him with kisses, touches, and gropes as their bodies intermingled.

To indulge himself in the heart of enemy territory, no matter how subdued it supposedly was, would have been the height of folly. But for one moment, with the weight of a literal war lifted off his shoulders, John Newman allowed himself to do something he had not done since shortly after obtaining his powers in the first place.

He relaxed, and truly appreciated what gifts he had been given, and what love he had been shown from all sides.