"After I blacked out, Danial arrived with Archie Willow and sentinel reinforcements. They found me... and Silas's body," Malvin said, exhaustion bleeding into his voice as he rubbed his face. "They took me to the hospital. For Silas, it was already too late." He exhaled sharply, his words weighted with guilt. "I was out for nine hours. Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't suffer anything long-term with the condition my ribs were in, but... anyway, when I woke up, Noemi was there. Just like last time. Except this time..." His voice faltered, and he paused for a moment before continuing. "Silas wasn't..."
---
Malvin's eyes fluttered open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room stinging as he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. Pain rippled through his chest and abdomen with every shallow breath. His ribs felt as though they were bound in a vice, and his muscles screamed with every slight movement.
"Finally decided to wake up, huh?" a quiet, detached voice said from beside him. Turning his head with effort, Malvin saw Noemi sitting stiffly in the chair next to the bed. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, her gaze fixed on the stark white sheets draped over him.
"I blacked out," Malvin mumbled, running a hand over his forehead, trying to recall the events that had led him there. He looked around the room—it was very familiar. Perhaps the same room he'd been in the last time he was hospitalized. "I need to get up," he muttered, shifting the blanket aside and bracing himself to sit up.
A sharp tsk cut through the air. "What's wrong with you?" Noemi asked, her tone still low, but there was an edge to it that made him pause.
Malvin turned to her, his brow furrowing. "What was that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" she shouted suddenly, her voice breaking like a thunderclap in the otherwise silent room. Before Malvin could react, she grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown, pulling him forward with surprising force for her smaller frame. "As soon as you wake up, you're already trying to get back to work!? You don't even ask about me, or Mom, or Dad! Do you even know how long you've been out?! Nine hours, Malvin! Nine hours of unconsciousness, and the first thing you think about is work?"
Malvin's fists clenched tightly at her words, his knuckles turning white. He avoided her gaze, staring down at the blanket instead. "I don't have time for that right now," he muttered coldly.
Noemi's grip on his collar loosened, her expression twisting into something caught between frustration and disbelief. "You don't have time for that?" she echoed, her voice quieter but no less sharp. Finally, she let go of him and stepped back. "Fine. What else could I expect from you?" Her words dripped with bitterness as Malvin swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to push himself to his feet, despite the obvious pain in his movements.
"But..." Noemi's voice trembled, and for a moment, it softened. Malvin froze mid-motion, his shoulders stiffening as she spoke again. "You need to take care of yourself more! Did you forget your creed?!" she screamed, her voice trembling with emotion. The force of her words struck Malvin like a hammer, rooting him to the spot. "Not only do you not care about the people around you, but you don't even care about yourself! Why, Malvin?! Why are you like this?!" Her voice cracked as she yelled, the anguish in her tone cutting deeper than any physical wound could. "Why is someone like you my big brother?!"
Her words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, before she turned abruptly and stormed toward the door. She slid it open with such force that it rattled against the frame, revealing Captain Howard on the other side, his hand poised to knock. Noemi didn't spare him even a glance as she rushed past him, her face a mixture of anger and barely restrained tears.
Howard stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him. He sighed, his expression a mixture of disappointment and weariness as he looked down at Malvin, who remained seated on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor in silence.
"Malvin," Howard said quietly, his tone heavy with concern. "Just how long are you planning to keep going like this?"
Malvin didn't respond. He didn't look up. He simply stared down at his trembling hands, unable—or unwilling—to say anything at all.
Captain Howard stepped closer to Malvin, standing just beside him. "I can see what you're thinking, Malvin, and it's dangerous," he said, his tone calm but firm. Malvin looked up at him, his weary gaze meeting the captain's steady one. Howard placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding. "Stop blaming yourself for everything. You can't be everywhere at once," he continued with a heavy sigh, his expression softening. "Silas's death isn't your fault. It's Philip Crude's fault. It's the fault of the monster who took his life—not yours."
Howard paused, letting his words sink in before beginning to pace the room. "But, Malvin," he added, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "you can't keep doing this. You can't keep discarding the code. The creed is there for a reason. It's not just words. It's what holds us together." His footsteps echoed softly in the quiet room as Malvin kept his gaze locked on the floor, the weight of guilt refusing to let him lift his head.
The captain stopped, exhaling deeply as he turned back to face Malvin. "But I'm not going to punish you this time," he said, his tone lighter but no less serious. "You're already punishing yourself more than enough." With that, he turned toward the door, his hand resting briefly on the frame as he glanced back at Malvin. "We'll need your report about what happened, but I'm not going to push you for it now. I know it'll hurt to talk about it. So, take your time. Tell us when you're ready."
And with those final words, Captain Howard walked out, leaving Malvin alone with his thoughts and the lingering echoes of their conversation.
---
"Was that your lowest point, Captain?" Loreen asked after a moment of reflective silence, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Malvin leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably," he admitted, his tone carrying the weight of uncertainty. "Yeah, maybe it was." His answer was vague, almost evasive, as if he were still processing it himself.
"But from what I've read," Tores interjected, leaning forward with a furrowed brow, "with how the case ended, there's no way things could've turned out like they did if you'd stayed in that state."
Jos snapped his fingers as realization struck. "That's true! Something must've happened in between," he said, his excitement growing.
"Something that pulled you out of it," Clare added, her tone more measured but no less curious.
All eyes turned to Malvin, their collective anticipation hanging thick in the air. Aeron was the one to voice the question they were all thinking. "What happened, Captain? What changed you?"
For a moment, Malvin said nothing. Then, to everyone's surprise, he let out a low chuckle. It was faint, dry, and tinged with a sense of reluctant fondness. "Well," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, "a certain someone I disregarded at the time forced me out of it."