Chapter Text
A soft knock came at the door. “Coby?” Tashigi’s subdued voice called from the other side.
For a long few seconds, Coby remained where he was -- sitting on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap, staring unseeing at the floor. Only when the knock came again did he raise his head slowly, then get mechanically to his feet and walk over to open it.
Tashigi stood there, face solemn, her normal attire replaced with a plain, dark outfit. She looked at him, sadness and sympathy in her face. When he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
When she stepped back again, she asked, “You sure you’re up for this?”
He nodded. “It’s important to get closure.” Those were Garp’s words. He’d used them as something of a magic charm every time someone asked him this question. He wasn’t sure he believed them, but they made everyone else feel better.
Tashigi was the first one who didn’t look like she bought it, but she also didn’t seem to have the energy -- or maybe the will -- to fight him over it. Dark circles around her eyes still made her look sickly. He felt a pang of guilt. She’d done more than he had, these past few weeks. Even after the mission was officially over, he knew she’d kept looking. Smoker pretended not to be worried, but he was. She needed to get some closure too.
“Then let’s get going,” she said. He nodded and numbly limped after her down the hall.
They had taken over a small meeting room in the main building for today’s service. The curtains, normally white and billowing, had been replaced with dark, Marine blue ones. (The only dark ones they had, Tashigi had explained a few days ago. She’d been keeping him updated every step of the way.) A dozen chairs in three rows faced the front of the small room.
The candles. The picture.
Almost a dozen men had been lost in the fight. There had been a collective service to mourn the loss. But Coby had refused to mourn Helmeppo then. Because all of their bodies had been found, but his hadn’t. So he had to still be out there, Coby kept telling himself. Hurt, unable to get back, needing help. Coby just had to find him and everything would be OK. It would be fine. But as days turned into weeks, he’d been forced to face a limited sort of reality.
Even if he was out there, it was too late.
But even then, he’d kept going out, day after day, ignoring everyone’s advice, until Smoker had physically barred him from leaving.
It was the moment when he realized he was thinking of attacking the vice admiral for being worried about him that he finally relented.
Coby took one of the chairs in the back, unable to work up the courage to move any closer to the little shrine at the moment. Tashigi patted him on the shoulder, then crossed to where Smoker scowled at the room, talking with him in low tones.
“Captain?”
He looked up to see one of the doctors who’d seen to him, after the whole mess. He’d apparently been the one to set the leg he’d broken in the battle. The man had a hand on the back of the chair next to Coby. At a nod from the captain, the doctor sat down.
“I really was sorry to hear of your loss,” he said. “I never got a chance to meet him, but people speak highly of him.”
“He’s a good person.” Your loss. He was getting tired of people saying that. Helmeppo had the loss. He lost his life for … for stupid reasons. Coby hadn’t lost things, he’d gained them. He’d gained a new numbness that made it hard to think of how to deal with everyday situations. He seemed to have gained a physical weight that pulled at his limbs, making everything heavy. He’d gained a whole bunch of new nightmares -- he’d been unconscious when whatever happened happened, so his mind kept imagining those final moments. It seemed like he couldn’t stay asleep more than an hour or two before they chased him back to waking.
“How are you holding up?” the doctor asked.
“My leg is feeling better,” Coby said, shifting it slightly. He’d been able to make it all the way here without crutches. It hurt to do so, but the pain was almost a relief against that numbness.
Another pause. Then, “If anything comes up, or if you just need to talk, please feel free to come by. OK?” He nodded. The doctor stood up and walked away.
Coby stared at the floor.
They’d asked if he thought there should be a eulogy. Coby had said no. Helmeppo would probably have loved hearing people sing his praises back … before. But if he was dead now, what was the point? Why monologue on all the good things they’d never said to his face? It was too late. He figured it was for them -- to make them feel better, to try to let go of some measure of the grief by remembering the good.
Coby didn’t want to let it go. This feeling was the least he deserved.
More people came and went. People who’d served with him for a while. Bogard had sent his sympathies in a letter. Garp, apparently, had other things to do. He’d been here earlier, while the search was still active, and had gone out to help. But he’d left once it was called off. Coby couldn’t blame him. Some cowardly part of himself wanted to do the same thing.
Smoker and Tashigi remained a constant presence. Tashigi came over about once every half hour to see if there was anything she could get him. He always politely thanked her but said no. Smoker had come over just once, and he hadn’t said anything. He just placed a heavy hand on Coby’s shoulder, solid and as sympathetic as he thought Smoker might get. It had actually helped him feel more grounded than anything so far that day.
They had the room for three hours, and Coby just spent all of it in the same place, there because he was supposed to be there, but not really sure why. He knew he was meant to mourn. He just couldn’t figure out how to do that.
One of the last people to enter, just before the end of the planned hours, was a young Marine in normal uniform, bright against the dark room. He arrived in the doorway and blanched, hands tightening around the package he carried. Delivery boy. Apparently whoever sent him didn’t tell him he’d be walking into a wake.
Coby watched out of the corner of his eye as the man approached Tashigi. Smoker looked irritated, but she whispered with him and took the box. He got out of there as quickly as decorum allowed.
She approached Coby. “Someone sent you something,” she said, holding the box out to him.
He looked at the label. Blinked. “It’s from no one,” he said.
“What?” She pulled the box back and looked at the writing on the top. It was addressed to Coby, here, and had a note that it was “perishable.” No indication of who sent it at all.
Tashigi frowned, then gestured Smoker over. Only the three of them remained in the room at this point, grouped around the box.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he was always suspicious. “How’d it get here? Something like this should have been caught at the processing section.” He turned it over in his hands. Coby wished they’d talk elsewhere.
“Is it OK if I open it?” Tashigi asked.
It took Coby a moment to realize she was addressing him. “Sure.” He couldn’t work up the energy to care about some box.
Tashigi unknotted the string and popped open the box. Made a sound of quiet surprise. Held the box up to Smoker, who reached in and took out whatever was inside.
“A Cameko,” he said.
Coby looked up. The snail looked out of place, too bright for this room. It stared ahead with the same vacantness Coby himself felt. Smoker held it out to him and he took it on reflex.
“Is there anyone who would have sent you a message?” Smoker asked as he handed it over, that suspicion thick in his voice again.
He couldn’t think of anyone. Most of the people he knew either couldn’t probably afford a device like this just to send a message when a letter would do, or were the sort who’d want to do all their communicating in person. A small stirring of suspicion began in the back of his head, matching Smoker’s. But there was only one way to solve this mystery.
He pressed the playback button on the animal’s shell.
Tashigi let out a horrified shout almost as soon as the image displayed. Smoker’s surprised grunt followed, but Coby found himself unable to make a sound. Something seemed to be stealing the air from his lungs.
The image swung blurrily around a dark room and took a moment to focus on a lone figure. His hat, coat and visor were gone, and the clip that held his hair back seemed to be missing as well, leaving his locks dangling in dirty clumps around his face. His uniform was a mess, torn and bloodied, though most of the blood had dried to a rusty color. His hands were manacled together in front of him, attached to a chain that went out of sight off the edge of the view area. He looked tired and gaunt, and even with the quality of the image, Coby could see the rawness around his wrists. He sat against a stone wall, his hunched posture hiding his face.
“You made it another day,” A chipper voice from offscreen said. “Good job! Especially since we have something special today.”
Helmeppo’s form tensed at that, but he gave no other sign of hearing. The voice gave a disappointed sigh.
“How boring you’ve gotten. Well, Lieutenant Commander, I thought you’d like to hear this. Your funeral is in a few days, back at the base. They gave you a month. I’m impressed! I don’t imagine the people I run with would look for more than a day or two if I disappeared. Certainly wouldn’t take time to mourn. You’re very lucky.”
Helmeppo’s hands curled into fists. “Just shut up.” His voice sounded rough with what Coby hoped was disuse. “If you’re going to-” He looked up at the person filming, eyes narrowed in anger, but the expression broke into something else as he caught sight of the snail. He visually looked at the device to the person holding it. Then again. Back and forth. And when he spoke once more, his anger had been replaced with something else. Confusion? Fear?
“What? What are you…”
“Well, you can’t make it in person, but I’m sure they would love to hear from you during the service, right? So they can see how you’re doing?”
There was a moment of something horribly broken and vulnerable in Helmeppo’s face as he looked at the snail again, finally working out the man’s intent. Then it went back through anger to pure rage, teeth gritted and eyes focused on the person filming him as he lunged forward.
Everything went into a blur for a moment, resolving in a view of a stone wall. The snail seemed to be on its side now. For several long seconds, it held on this as chains clanked and the stranger laughed in the background. The view then shook again, then the snail apparently got picked up. They got a sweeping look at a small cell, though Helmeppo didn’t show up again. They went out the door and into a dark hallway. The sound of a heavy door slamming shut came from somewhere out of frame, then a clattering of the door being locked.
“There,” the stranger’s voice said once that was finished. “I hope you like this present, Captain Coby. Be on the lookout for more.”
Then the video went dark.