Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 20

"How does that feel, Commander?" The Doctor stood back as the Commander put his weight on his left leg. Five years after his leg had been shattered and after five years of fighting tooth and nail to be able to walk on it at all, he'd finally given up on ever moving freely on it, and finally he let himself be fitted for a permanent brace. It strapped around his pants leg but supported him as he stood. He frowned heavily.

"It feels like a new chapter. One I should have started a long time ago." Just as his weapon had been melted down and turned into the rod that supported his shattered femur, the rest of the old switch axe had been reforged into the brace. But unlike the rod in his leg, the brace still had recognizable parts of the old blade. The Commission insignia that had once been stamped on the blade just above the hilt had been hammered into a knee guard, and some of the moving parts had been cleaned and reused in the brace's joint.

"Good." She nodded before stepping back. "Remember next week physicals start. I expect to see your kid and the Quartermaster. Don't let him run off like last time." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't try to pull that 'he's a grown man' shit on me, Commander. Do your job and get that weasel in here."

He chuffed in response. He knew she wasn't worried about the Quartermaster getting in, but the Commander himself skipping out on it. The Doctor knew him well enough that if she put the responsibility of someone else's well-being on him, then he wouldn't skip out on his own physical, but he didn't care about any of that.

What he cared about was how his leg would never be what it once was. How he would always have a limp, how it would forever hurt when a storm came in or seasons changed, how five years ago he should have given up on ever hunting again.

"We'll all be here," he said with a dour expression and a nod. A cloud of overwhelmingly melancholy settled upon him.

After ten years, half of the First Fleet had already returned home. Some of them would rejoin them in the new world, but as the Second Fleet offered fresh faces, those who had grown tired and weary of living on the frontier took the first chance they were offered to go back to the comfort of established civilization.

He still had his family back in the old world. His siblings, his cousins, his parents all lived vibrant lives, but he felt like their accomplishments and the sheer vibrancy of their own doings suffocated him. Like nothing he could do would ever really stand out. He'd be brushed aside at his best and pitied at his worst, and returning from the new world with an old injury that forced him to retire would only draw pity. Maybe that was just the life of a middle child in a massive family, and he did often miss them, but it felt like he could never be himself, never be enough in the old world.

In the new world, in Astera, even if he couldn't hunt, he had no competition. There were no cuter siblings, no stronger siblings, no first borns or babies. There was only he, and he would never look back.

As he left the infirmary, walking quite well with his new brace, he turned to face the ocean. It seemed calm, or at least calmer than usual, though it still smashed against the cliffside, and he wondered when the next set of Second Fleet ships would arrive. With the Seeker absent and the Tracker exploring, he felt the void the Admiral left more keenly. He wanted his friend there to shake him out of the quiet depression that settled so neatly on his shoulders, to laugh so loud and wholeheartedly that he couldn't hear anything else.

Three months later, he would get his wish. The Commander waited excitedly near the dock, pacing back and forth with a bright smile on his face after having spotted the Admiral's form hanging on the mast of the leading ship. He was unmistakable with his wild hair and his wide body, and the Commander felt a bit like a dog eagerly awaiting his friend's return. If he could bounce, he would have.

His daughter was less interested and spent the day with the Quartermaster doing whatever lesson the man was teaching her. That was not important to the Commander right then-- well, it was, but he trusted his lover to be kind to his daughter while he waited for his dearest and oldest friend.

A crewman fired a signal flare from the forward of the ship, and the docking crew in Astera responded. Safe to dock. Proceed. Time seemed to slow for the Commander, but he didn't have to wait for the ship to reach the shore, for as soon as a wayward wingdrake flew too close to it, the Admiral lassoed it. The creature, panicking after being roped, flew immediately back to shore, and with it came the wild-haired massive man that clung to it.

The Commander threw what little composure he had out the window as he moved as quickly as he could after the wingdrake, and while he quickly lost sight of it, it didn't matter, for the Admiral barreled out of the forest and into Astera with the energy of a bull. He didn't say anything, or at least not with words, when he saw the Commander. He just started yelling and charged his friend with wide open arms, and the Commander, who also forwent words in favor of a hearty bellow, waited for the tackle with glee. He hit like a freighter-- his time in the old world had not diminished the Admiral's physique, and when he collided with the Commander he lifted him and kissed his cheek. He could have crushed his friend in his embrace, but for every ounce of pressure, the Commander returned it double.

Between laughter and tight embraces, they finally found words.

"████!"

"███████!"

"I can't believe you were so eager to get here you grabbed a wingdrake like that!"

"I've made you wait five years-- I'm not a very good admiral if I make you all wait longer than that. I can't wait for you to see my boy! ███ was just a little tyke when you last saw him. Just learning to read... He's fifteen now!"

"You actually brought one of your kids?"

"Had to fight tooth and nail, but yeah!"

The Commander finally let go and stepped back from the Admiral. "Well, perhaps finally my daughter will have a friend her age." He grinned, as he watched the Admiral's face fall into thought. His brows furrowed with great wrinkles over his sharp brow, and he looked around with narrowed eyes before finally looking back at the Commander.

"Your... daughter? How did... who's..."

"She's adopted." The Commander slapped a hand on the Admiral's shoulder. "Come on. Let's greet the ship. We have a lot to catch up on."