Lights {Meira, Rugs, Lemur}

[Dutch]

Dutch chewed with his mouth partially open, an idiots grin spread wide across his face knowingly. Yup! Still got it. I'm awesome... He thought to himself, ever the smug one. So, seemed that there was something there, Dutch was certain of it now. But how did one simply just... start seeing someone in this situation? Not like there were any nice restaurants, or carnivals or anything anymore. Yet another reason to get these bastards off my planet... Dutch thought as he continued chewing.

It was when Si'bul spoke that Dutch began to chuckle, half covering his mouth so the food in it wouldn't show too much. This kid! he thought as he laughed heartily. Seemed that even a year of growing up wouldn't stop the boy from continuously making Dutch laugh. He swallowed his food and smiled, a true, full, genuine smile.

"Y'know Mo, I do really need to tell you... AL!"

Dutch had begun to say, just as the door slid open. There he was. Al. His brother. Hair a mess, face covered in soot, and blood. But his body was whole, and there were no other blots of red on his clothes. Even after all this time, Dutch was used to seeing Al like this, it didn't alarm him. Al was ever capable... if a bit unlucky sometimes.

The second Al began moving forward, Dutch summoned a burst of energy from out of the very depths of his form, and quite literally launched at Al. And by literally, he stood up right on the bed and threw his entire body at his younger brother. He collided with Al, but his more slight frame from being ill obviously wasn't enough to simply knock his brother down anymore.

It had literally been probably close to ten years since Dutch had "Al Bombed", as he called it. One of his favorite games when the two were boys. Dutch would get somewhere he had height over Al... then proceed to throw his entire body at Al. He still had a slight scar above his left eyebrow from that one time he had completely missed Al, and hit the table in the kitchen. Boy did he get scolded that day...

Didn't matter that they weren't little kids anymore. Dutch couldn't help the urge, the sheer elation he felt the minute Al entered the room literally sent him soaring. Dutch wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Al, and laughed. Laughed so joyously, so brightly... a laugh Mo and Al probably hadn't heard in years... even before the coma.

"Look at you! You blasted nerf-herder! You got taller again! Damn you!"

Dutch cried out as he released the embrace to look Al up and down, his hands still holding onto Al's arms. He wasn't joking, the boy- no, the young man- had easily grown another inch or two. And like Si'bul, his face had really begun to angle out a bit more, and much to his surprise... his face more resembled his own, which meant, they both resembled Erle. It was like looking at a much thinner and less muscly version of their dad. He couldn't help but feel his face get warm, and a couple more hot tears fell from his reddening eyes. Dutch pulled Al once more into an embrace, and sighed.

"Damn good to see you kid..."

He then turned his gaze to Mo and Si'bul. A wide grin broke through his tears of joy, and still holding onto Al, reached out to pull the two of them into the embrace. Dutch held them to himself, nearly both of the adults with one arm and Si'bul he held to his hip with a free hand. Once more Dutch couldn't help but both begin crying, and laughing, as he held his family to his body.

Never had he ever wanted anything more...

[Rugs]

Allistair laughed and cried and struggled for words all at once as he met Dutch and wrapped his arms around him. It was almost like a dream come true, but it was it something more, something better. The war had taken many things away from Al: his home, his peace of mind, his friends and his way of life. He loved his home and he loved his people, but it was the loss of family that stung the most, that kept him awake some nights and quietly tore at his soul.

Dutch had been the last thing Al had left; Mo was close, and he loved her like a sister, but nothing could replace blood's bond. Nor could it ease the quiet pain of wondering if he'd be the last Sampson left, or if he'd find a way to lead their ragtag army to the victory they all longed for, or if he'd fall like the others, passing his father's torch on to someone carry.

The thought of being the last one, of being the last to fall and fail, terrified him.

Yet, here was his brother, alive and awake when even the most optimistic among them were starting to give up hope that he'd ever come back.

"Force, I missed you, Dutch," he said to his older brother, even as Dutch squeezed him. Dutch had atrophied some in his coma, but he was still strong, and any other time Al would've complained about him trying to squeeze the life out of him.

But not now. Not with his brother just returning from the dead.

"Don't you do that again, y'hear? 'Bout scared the life outta me thinkin' you'd be gone forever..." He pulled slightly away so he could look his brother. Some of the blood from his cut had was on Dutch's face now, and he suddenly remembered he probably looked a mess. Not that he cared.

"But you're back now, so I guess I can forgive ya," he said, grinning wryly at him. "And we're all still here. Still fightin' on like Dad would'a wanted us to."