[The first few days after the success of Operation Pitfall are a whirlwind of activity, as exhilarating as they are disorienting. There are repeated medical exams "just in case", congratulations and thank yous and celebrations, but Mako can't help but find it all exhausting. She's yo-yoing between emotions, and the knowledge that they've saved the world doesn't seem to want to sink in. Her losses are like an open wound, and sometimes, in quiet moments, she can't help but cling to them. Anything else would feel like a betrayal. Herc feels the same, she thinks—he's a force of nature, throwing himself into the work of what will become of the PPDC, of debriefings and reports, but sometimes she spots him alone, face drawn and Max still by his side.
She's not sure what she expected. Every second of her life, from the moment Sensei saved her, has been dedicated to this. As much as she tries not to think it, she can't help but wonder what's next. Gipsy's hanger, long a place where she would go when her mind wouldn't stop, is heartbreakingly empty, and Mako feels adrift. Maybe it's no wonder that she finds herself in front of Raleigh's door instead. For a moment, she hesitates, hands clasped in front of her, wondering what she even wants to say, but then she forces herself to knock.]
give me sweater boy
She's not sure what she expected. Every second of her life, from the moment Sensei saved her, has been dedicated to this. As much as she tries not to think it, she can't help but wonder what's next. Gipsy's hanger, long a place where she would go when her mind wouldn't stop, is heartbreakingly empty, and Mako feels adrift. Maybe it's no wonder that she finds herself in front of Raleigh's door instead. For a moment, she hesitates, hands clasped in front of her, wondering what she even wants to say, but then she forces herself to knock.]