Tale of a Garden

Chapter 21: A Weary Soul

My heart had a heavy weight that felt like iron chains dragging me down, but I refused to be wallowed in sorrow. Despite the feeling of overwhelming emotions, I felt a pang to push it all down and let it fester deep in my thoughts while I complete my task at hand. My mother warned me countless time not to abandon my emotions and voicing her thoughts on that of men who detract their soul from their being , after all how can someone kill simultaneously whilst guilt is riding on their shoulder. Whispering all their sins into their ears till they're driven to the very edge of madness and fall off. I rallied up the agents from their deep slumber fully aware of what glances and verbal abuse I would get peppered with. Now isn't the time to wait and absorb it into my skin, now is time for a course of actions. Perhaps this is the grief talking or taking whatever course it had placed for us....either way, I'm not falling to my knees yet.
"Storm, I thought you would be grieving....... since you know you're only friend got killed." It was hard to tell who's voice that was through the fog of insecurity, slightly worried that my hearing may be impaired by some force of nature.
"Now isn't the time to ponder and wallow in my sorrow, my dear agent. These course of actions are meant to be taken quite seriously, for a example take that silly old saying,"if life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Heh but for our specific situation at the moment replace lemons with death and lemonade with the most glorious revenge." I chose my word with such ease not caring whether the emotions it may show, it was simply the best for whom it was directed to.
"Okay, does anybody know what stage of grief Storm is in right now? He's somehow a combination of denial, bargaining, and acceptance all bundled into one."
This voice seemed more clearer, though it may sound like I'm submerged below water, listening to others speak above me.....I do believe that it was Dexter that spoke. Such a smart boy, he's quite the observer for someone who despises doing actual work. Hah...I find that amusing.
I chuckle,"Why Dexter aren't you the clever bastard. Remind not to underestimate you." I spoke whilst shaking my finger at him, turning when I finished.
Apparently so my words struck harder than I expected since Dexter audibly gulps. A shiver ran up my spine for an odd circumstance.
"Storm....are you sure you're okay? You don't even seem affected by just happened."  Who ever spoke they sounded feminine, perhaps it was Diana or Chara.....how sickly sweet of them to think of me.
"Why thank you for asking, and to answer your question. I am not okay, I will never be. Jon's death has utterly destroyed my soul leaving nothing behind....but a shell of a broken man." I explained my voice showing more courage than my body would let it be shown. Slumping my shoulders, I casted my head down. Daniel's voice was the first to cut through the silence sounding as if he had a megaphone.
"Well, that was a uh surprising answer. Do you wanna talk about it or err something?" His body gave away his discomfort that he felt inside. I snapped my head up,
"No, we can't go wasting more precious time. We wasted enough as it is." I turned and look at Diana.
"Diana, you see that overly sized crate directly behind you." I pointed out seeing that I wanted to make myself clear as possible to her.
"Yes sir, what about the crate?" Questioned Diana. Quite the little soldier isn't she, always respecting others above her.
"I want you to open it"
This raised some eyebrows.....as if it didn't already. Diana hesitated but complied with it anyways, shooting me looks as she neared the crate.
"Anyone got a crowbar? I'm not the Incredible Hulk here." Diana remarked as she tested her strength by tugging slightly on the crate.
Surprisingly, the crate's top actual did move with whatever Diana did.
"Huh, I guess I don't know my own strength." Sneered Diana as she looked around the room before looking at what's inside the crate.
"Care to share with the room with what's inside Diana?" I asked knowing what she saw.
"Guns, we got actual guns here........who sent these?"
That in a sense made all the attention gather on my location. Should've excepted this Benjamin, you dastardly man.
"Well you see now, Jon had sent a cargo trunk ahead of him while he got prepared. He for some god forsaken reason didn't give me the guns I asked for. Instead he gave me actual weapons.......which now I'm kinda glad to see." I explained.
"So go ahead use this guns if you wish, or don't. War isn't always won with death as statical planning play a major part in this. As with the medics who prevent their death on the battlefield. I'm not quite exactly the most detailed on speeches, but I feel like you should have a choice in what you do to help."
The room was silent for a quick moment before it was interrupted.
"Dibs on the biggest gun." Called out Dexter.
"Why the fuck will I let you get the biggest gun? Who says I can't have it?" Diana immediately replies back
"The less work I'll have to do, tell me if someone with a big frame is carrying a huge ass gun, would you mess with them? I think not." Argued Dexter already clinging to the crate.
"Did you just call yourself fat?" Daniel asked tilting his head.
"NO, I was just saying you wouldn't mess with a big guy with a big gun."
Ah how refreshing it is to be with them. Never a dull moment with them.