>You don't know how long you've sat with Ida against the wall.
>It would have wasted what little time you had left with her.
>In the distance, you can hear the rescue helicopter closing in.
>While you don't want Donaghue to die, the helicopter is coming too soon.
>When it lands in the empty lot behind the house, you squeeze Ida tighter towards you.
>She returns the motion and slides her head from your shoulder to your chest.
>The paramedics come running around the house with a stretcher and first aid kit.
>As they examine Donaghue, Hotchkins slowly steps to you.
>Her voice is somber and quiet.
>"Anon, it's time."
>You look down at the messy auburn hair of your best friend.
>It's the last time you'll get the chance.
>She pulls her head away from your chest.
>The spot where she lied against already feels like its missing something.
>Ida stares into your glazed eyes while you try and blink the tears away.
>She tries to reassure you with a smile, but even you can see past it.
"Ida..."
>A slender finger stops your lips.
>"It'll be okay, Annie. Take care of the others. Please, for me."
>You shut your eyes tight to fight the tears back, but a few escape despite this.
"I'll keep them safe, but I'll never stop missi-"
>This time you're silenced not by a finger, but by a soft set of lips.
>Every second of the moment is burned into your mind.
>You never want a single detail of it to fade with time.
>It ends too quickly for you.
>She pulls away.
>"Goodbye, Annie. I love you."
"I... I love you, too."
>She weakly stands up and presents herself to Hotchkins.
>"I'm ready. Let's go."
>"Hotckins!"
>A strained shout comes from Donaghue.
>Everyone's attention is on the wounded form on the stretcher.
>As you get to your feet, Hotchkins hurries to the detective's side.
>"Donaghue, you're awake. Save your energy, we're getting you help."
>He ignores her and continues speaking hoarsely.
>"We came here to help this poor guy. We're not taking the gun."
>Hotchkins is thrown off slightly.
>"But it's been cut down. We have to take it in and have it demilled."
>Donaghue almost looks angry for a moment.
>"I'm sure Anon can fix that, and that's a federal regulation anyways. Fuck the feds, this is Alaska. Let the boy go home."
>His partner almost looks ready to retaliate.
>Instead, she turns to you.
>She slightly nods her head.
>"Well, mister Anon. I wish you luck on your ride home. Thank you for helping us with this emergency. I'll... take care of the paperwork."
>With that, she motions for the paramedics to take Donaghue, and they rush for the helicopter.
>It leaves shortly afterwards.
>You're now alone with your rifle and the detective.
>"I have some investigating to do of the crime scene. Please take care."
>Hotchkins disappears into the house, leaving you alone with Ida on the porch.
>Ida's smile is no longer just a source of comfort.
>It's a ray of light and joy, now that you'll be making sure she comes home.
>She shuffles up to you, and places her head against your chest.
>You bring your arms around her and keep her close.
>A second set of arms wrap around the both of you.
>Wilma is sobbing.
>You place your right arm around her and bring her into the hug.
>It's a perfect reunion after all that happened since you arrived.
"Let's go home, together."
>You place Wilma carefully back into your holster, and pick up Ida in your arms.
>She rests her head against your shoulder as you carry her to the Ural like a princess.
>Securing her into the side car, you hop onto the bike and run through the start up.
>After making it down the mountain and through the town, it snows heavily.
>You're almost blinded on the highway, even so, you couldn't be bothered by it.
>The sidecar's smiling occupant makes sure that nothing could ruin this trip home.
>So thankfully,
>It's going to be a long ride.

End of What We Lost


What We Found

>The winds weren't forgiving on the ride home.
>And the fatigue from riding is wearing on you.
>The adrenaline is still pumping from the firefight, and your thoughts are still hazy from the overload of killing a man, and almost losing Ida again.
>You pull your bike onto the snow covered path leading to your grandfather's house.
>Glancing down at your passenger became a habit on the highway.
>Ida is resting against the rear of the sidecar with her head facing towards you.
>A smile slowly works its way on your face.
>Despite all the damage done to her, she's still a source of radiance and comfort.
>You pull up to garage door, and hop off to unlock and open the garage door.
>Getting back on the bike, you ease into the garage.
>Ida finally opens her hazy eyes as the engine dies.
"Hey, we're home. Safe's empty, I think they're inside already."
>She slightly smiles and nods.
>While closing the garage door, she tries to climb out of the sidecar without success.
>You lock the door and rush to help her.
>Placing an arm around her waist and having her wrap her arms around your neck, you lift her up and help her over the edge.
>She stumbles slightly, but your grip keeps her from falling.
>You walk her to the door and open it, helping her up the stairs and into the living room.
>It's empty.
>The clock gives an idea as to where everyone is.
>Almost time for dinner, and after taking a moment to smell the air, you confirm that dinner is being made.
>Ida takes notice of the smell as well and tries to lead you towards the dining room.
>It'd be okay letting her do so, but it'd end up with someone bumping into the wall.
>A few guiding pushes on her back set her on track.
>Passing the kitchen and spotting that it's empty, you guess everyone is already at the table.
>Damn girls were going to eat without you.
>Can't be mad, though.
>There was no telling how long it'd take.

>Just as expected, the girls are all piled seated around the table.
>Some have plates full of steaming spaghetti.
>Emilia is half standing with a plate in one hand, reaching for a large bowl of pasta with the other.
>All eyes are on you now.
>Emilia's plate clatters on the table as she shouts.
"Ida!"
>Her chair skids back as she rushes to get away from the table.
>Ida is almost unable to prepare as Emilia pulls her away from your supporting arm into a crushing hug.
>You only feel slightly envious of Ida's positioning against the infantry rifle.
>While it looks comfortable to you, Ida seems to be struggling a bit to ease out of the grip.
>Eliza is the second one up.
>She stands next to the pair, hands raised to cover her mouth.
>Looking close at the two 'sisters', you see they're both blinking back tears.
>Besides Tuuli, the rest of the girls have stood up.
>Including the Browning Hi-power and Smith & Wesson Model 29, Janet and Harriet.
>Your grandfather's lazy naming conventions continue to provide amusement to this day.
>If it weren't for you, Tuuli's name would have been 'Ticky'.
>She owes you big time.

>All of the other girls have pulled into a large group hug.
>Wilma included.
>Some of them unable to hold back their crying.
>Especially Emilia.
>She was always so emotional compared to Eliza, who was still just blinking away tears with a slight smile.
>Even the rough cowgirl of a rifle, Marleen, has tears streaming down her face.
>Tuuli is a major exception to the state of the group.
>She sits at the table with a small smile and half closed eyes.
>You've known her long enough to know that this is a major expression of joy for her.
>Letting the other girls work out their tearful reunion, you gently shuffle over to the quiet bolt action and take a seat next to her.
>She simply directs her smile at you.
"What, no crying from you? Gotta keep up the cool stoicism, huh?"
>"It is because have no reason to cry."
>You're not if your joke went over her head.
"Mind if I ask what you mean?"
>Her eyes close behind her glasses.
>"I don't cry because I knew you would bring Ida back. You would never give up on us, Ani."
>Her words echo in your thoughts.
>You didn't even notice her wrap her arms around you until she pulled you into a hug.
>When it finally registers, you return the hug.
"Thanks for believing in me."
>"No, thank you for making our family whole again."
>She backs away from your shoulder while still keeping you in her arms, her eyes scanning yours with precision.
>"Will you stay in this home?"
>The question catches you off guard.
>Your original plan was to leave with all the rifles, but now that you've returned and stayed a few nights, you're not sure if you can leave again.
>And you certainly don't want to pry the girls away from the comfort of the house they've spent so much time in.
>Especially now that Ida is back with them.
>You could find a way to make a living here.
>Even sell your house in Idaho for something and live quietly for a little while.
>For now, you'll just settle down from all the action.
"I don't know yet, Tuuli. Right now, I just want to relax. It's been a long day."
>She smiles warmly.
>"Of course, Ani. I could tell by the condition of Ida that things were not as easy as we all hoped. Let us start with dinner when the others finish. I would like to know how it went."
>It takes a moment, but after some insistence from Ida, the other join you at the table.
>Eliza guided Ida to the seat next to you.
>You fill her plate for her and make sure she knows where it is.
>After the rest settle in and get their plates full, you do so for yourself.
>With everyone ready to eat, you start at your pile.
>It's quiet.
>Harriet and Janet occasionally steal glances at Ida's poorly modified form.
>It's clear they want to ask, but are too afraid of crossing a boundary.
>Might as well clear up everything.
>You wash down your mouth with a large drink of water and clear your throat.
"So you're all probably wondering what happened, right?"
>A few nods and sounds of confirmation answer.
"Alright, Ida?"
>She nods with a neutral expression.
"Okay, I'll fill in everyone, starting from the police station."

>The girls are staring you down relentlessly, waiting for the story.
>As promised, you begin from where you met with the two investigators in Valdez.
>You mention riding alongside them in the Ural to the mountains.
>How they split off to go talk to Higgins while you waited behind.
>When you get to the part of gunfire and riding into the woods to circle around the center of the gunfire, the demeanor of the table shifts quickly.
>The girls show some concern, with Emilia mumbling something about you being a green idiot.
>Wilma's posture droops as you recount sneaking into the house's cellar and climbing through the crawlspace.
>She knows what comes next.
>Harriet lights up.
>"You sound like John McClane!"
>Chuckling softly, you continue.

"So I found the bastard. He was shooting at the two with Ida. Shouted at him. He turned to shoot at me, but I got him first. Got Ida back and the detective got to the hospital. Now here we are."
>Retelling the end to the story makes you grow ill.
>You killed a man.
>The girls drop completely.
>Some of them may be war rifles, but they know you've never had to do anything like that.
>Even if he was trying to kill other, you still killed a man.
>It's hard to shake that thought off.
>Something wrapping around your arm drags you out of your thoughts.
>Ida is gripping your arm tightly against her chest, head resting against your shoulder.
>"Annie, I'm tired."
>You look up at the others, and Eliza nods towards the stairs.
>Not wasting a second, you stand out of the chair while helping the clinging rifle to her feet.
"Yeah, me too. Come on."
>After wishing everyone good night, you lead Ida up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
>Ida feels for the bed and climbs onto it.
>Reaching the other side, she lies and slides her torn fatigue pants and jacket off, leaving her in an undershirt and plain high waist panties reminiscent of an older era.
>You quickly avert your eyes after realizing what you were observing.
>Following her example, you remove your coat and strip down to your T-shirt and boxers and climb under the covers.
>To your slight embarrassment, Ida grabs around your waist and presses herself against you.
>After finding the perfect spot on your shoulder and chest to use as a pillow, she exhales.
>Finally feeling comfortable with the position your in, you place your arm along her back with your hand on her waist.
>After today, you'll never let her go again.
>With the lamp turned off, you focus on Ida's slowly deepening breathes as they lull you to sleep.
>Just before the sandman takes you, the door to your room opens and closes shortly afterwards.
>The soft patter of bare feet wander up to your bed, and Wilma's voice gently blends with the soft breathing of Ida.
>"Anon, can I sleep here again?"
>You take care in scooting over with Ida and pat the bed next to you.
"Come on in."
>She doesn't hesitate in climbing into the spacious bed.
>Clinging to your arm, she rests her cheek against your bicep and quickly drifts off to sleep.
>Now with two sets of gentle breathing on either side, it only takes moments to find sleep for yourself again.

>You awake with a chill on your left side.
>Grabbing around, you search for whatever source of heat was keeping your sleep peaceful over the night.
>All it turns up is a blanket, which is brought up to cover your exposed side.
>Feeling comfortable once more, you clutch the radiating warmth next to you and bring yourself closer to it.
>The motion seems to be enough to rouse the small space heater from her slumber.
>Your eyes slowly open as your old partner in crime lets out a high pitched squeak of a yawn.
>The angel opens her eyes.
>The confusion sets in.
>Her eyes lower slightly before shutting again.
>She presses her face against your side and hides it away.
>A few seconds pass in the serenity of the morning light before the silence is broken.
>"Annie, are you awake?"
>You debate with yourself on answering, or trying to get her to sleep again to see the peacefulness of her face while she is resting.
>The thought of what you'll have to do today weighs in and you decide that an early start is better.
"Yeah, I'm up. How're you feeling?"
>Ida pulls her face from your side with her eyes open again.
>Discomfort flashes across her face.
>"I'm okay. I just-"
>The pause lasts for a few seconds.
>"Just wish I could see what your bedhead looks like. Bet it looks messy and funny."
>She brings her hand up and ruffles it through your hair with a giggle.
>If it wasn't messy before, it sure is now.
>But that matters none to you, because smile on her face is the most important thing to you right now.
>You bring your left hand up and return the favor.
"Yeah, well you should speak for yourself. Look at that mess."
>Her neck length hair is now thoroughly ruffled and frayed.
>As soon as your hand leaves, she pouts and puffs her cheeks up.
>"That's not funny."
>She tries to intensify the pout, but only succeeds in looking sillier with her hair.
>You chuckle, and soon after, she lets up and resumes her giggling.
>She really is adorable, but not enough that you can skip breakfast to stare at her.
>And there is a lot to think about with your house in Idaho and the rest of your family.
>It'll be kind of hard to explain what happened with your sister, and it's really not something you're looking forward to.
>As you let your thoughts drift off, you notice Ida "staring" at you with some concern.
>"Annie, are you... okay? If it's about what happe-"
>You quickly silence her with a finger to her lips.
"It's not that. Well, not exactly. I'm just thinking about what I'm gonna have to do later on. Don't worry about it. Right now, I'm just worrying about what's for breakfast."
>She wraps her hands around yours and places it against her collarbone.
>"Okay, but remember, you can talk to me about that kind of thing. I know it isn't easy. Frank had trouble with it, too."
>You can feel your demeanor drop at the mention of your late grandfather's tribulations, but knowing that someone cares that much about you makes you swell slightly.
"Thanks, Ida. Now let's get something before the others eat it all."
>A smirk replaces the concerned look on her face.
>"They would, too. Let's go."
>Both of you slide out of the bed on your end.
>Before you can grab your shirt off the floor, Ida finds it with her foot and snatches it up while sticking her tongue out in your direction as she puts it on over her undershirt.
>The petty act is amusing, but the new need to get a shirt is a nuisance.
>You dig around in your duffel bag and pull out another plain T-shirt and jogging pants to keep your legs warm.
>Ida stands up, and the shirt falls down to her upper thighs, covering her undergarments completely.
>The realization that you were staring hits and you quickly turn your back.
>While you put on the fresh clothing, Ida slowly shuffles towards you and kneels by your bag.
>As she roots around it, you feel a need to question her motives.
"Don't you have any clothes of your own here?"
>She doesn't stop to think about it as she continues digging.
>"Yep."
"So why are you stealing mine?"
>Again, no hesitation as she pulls out a spare pair of jogging pants.
>"Because yours are closer."
>Again, she sticks her tongue out at you and puts her- YOUR pants on.
>They cover up her feet entirely, and she shuffles along the wooden floor as if wearing slippers.
>You definitely will to get your clothes or go shopping for more.
>Packing for the trip here mostly involved looking for something comfortable.
>"Annie, come on. Help me with the stairs."
>Promptly, you follow her out of the room to the top of the staircase.
>Before she can attempt putting her foot down the first step, you snatch her from behind.
>"Hey, what are you- Woah!"
>She is interrupted by you sweeping her up off the floor into a princess carry.
>Images of you walking back to your bike with her in arms flash in your mind before you shake them off.
>Ida is pouting again.
>"You could have just helped me down and let me walk, you know."
>Keeping the smirk off your face is impossible.
"Yeah, I could have. But this is more fun for me."
>She crosses her arms and turns her head away.
>"Hmmph. You're lucky you're taller now. If you were still little, I'd show you 'fun'."
>Her weightless threat amuses you and you take the first step down the stairs.
>The jostle makes Ida panic, and she latches her arms around your neck.
>"Don't you dare drop me."
"Don't worry. I will never let you go."
>You mean every bit of that.
>And Ida must know it too, if her bashful grin means anything.