Chapter Text
Another day, another dead colleague.
You can’t let yourself be close to any of them, not when there’s no end of opportunities for any of them to die suddenly, but Dmitri was still a name I recognize. Through all our time together in the WDF, he always was collected, not a hint of radiators no matter how bad a hand he’d been dealt. Never learned not to draw on an inside straight though. Besides, he was married to Yeva, my wife’s best friend. Ex? Unclear, talking about her past was never good for Nori’s mental state, and if there’s a second thing that Khan Doorman was good at, it’s not prying. I probably wouldn’t call them friends, but I’d wave if I saw them off-shift. Shame that they’re dead.
Sendoffs are typically a small occasion in Outpost 3, what with how many we’ve had. Certainly thanks to my masterpiece that need’s gone down, but we can’t avoid venturing out altogether, and any time you do it’s a roll of the dice. Still, a decent turnout as far as these things go, most of the Force who aren’t on shift and some people who are presumably family friends of some variety.
Oh.
And Doll, of course.
Pure luck she’d survived, being there with them at the time. Murder drones can be tenacious seekers when they want to be, but inscrutable as well. Maybe she’d been really well hidden, or the drone had been sated, or had some other priority, hard to know for sure. I can’t imagine she’s feeling particularly lucky right now though, but it’s none of my business really.
…
Ah, what the hell. Maybe I haven’t been the most attentive parent since I was forced to kill my wife, but imagining Uzi going through any of that alone is terrifying. Might as well try.
A couple steps later, I’m leaning against the wall where she’s sitting, arms around her knees. “Hey, kid?”
Her head slowly lifts up as she blinks. “Mister Doorman?”
She recognizes me, that’ll certainly make this conversation less awkward. “I don’t suppose you have any relatives who can take you in?” She doesn’t exactly shake her head, but that’s definitely a no. “I can spare a bed, at least for a few days. Wouldn’t want you to go through this alone.”
With the way she perked up at that, I feel like an ass for even considering ignoring her. Still, there's some doubt written on her faceplate. “Tell ya what, I think we’ve both gotten what we’ve needed from this. What do you say we turn in for the night?” And with that, we depart in what I hope is a comfortable silence, her on my back.
It’s a short walk back to the house, privileges of being a well-connected drone. When we get back, Uzi is still up, watching some anime or another in the living room. I want to say it’s one of those ‘gundam’ shows, but last time I tried to guess confidently, I was apparently so off it annoyed her, so best to stay silent on the matter. Still, she glances away from it briefly, giving me a “hey dad” before she double-takes and pauses her show. “And Doll?”
“She’ll be staying with us for a bit, with all that’s happened,” and I did tell Uzi where I was going beforehand, so neither of us have to elaborate, “and hm, tomorrow we’ll clear out Nori’s office to make a bedroom, but I don’t want to force you onto the couch after promising you a bed.”
I’d been a little worried about springing a new housemate on Uzi, but it seems I needn’t have. “Oh. Oh! We could have a sleepover! My bed’s definitely big enough!”
Well, that’s certainly an option, but best talk to her privately about it first. “Grab some pajamas for her first, alright?” and as my daughter scurries off to her room, I turn to Doll. “Don’t feel pressured if you don’t want to, I’ll change the sheets and take the couch if you prefer.”
Doll’s already shaking her head by the time I’m done. “No. I… another person being nearby…” You know, fair enough. I give my best comforting smile, nonetheless. “I can’t promise you safety forever, but nothing hostile can get in here. I’ve built a vault door for each of the nine surviving outposts, and none of them have all the tricks my front door has. Not a more secure place in the world.”
Losing family is never easy. But now I know, as my daughter offers her the choice of gears and chain drives or constellation-patterned with all the solemnity she can muster, that she’s got at least two people in her corner.