(TATB) Ch 39: The Place Beyond Surviving!

(Nemu)

I barely had a foot in the tent before the familiar smell hit me—lavender and freshly washed clothes, with just a hint of dust and whatever scent Holly wore that made everything feel... homey.

"We're back," I said with a small wave, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

Sawyer grunted beside me in that charmingly awkward way of his, clutching the handle of his pack like it might try to escape.

Inside, Meara was knee-deep in a pile of folded shirts, working alongside Holly. The tent was bigger than most—spacious, warm, filled with half-finished sewing projects and drying herbs hanging from string like little jungle vines. It smelled like comfort. Like a place you could rest your head and, for once, not worry about waking up to running orders and marching boots.

Meara turned at the sound of my voice, and then there she was—charging at us with that same fiery smile that could either mean "I'm glad you're alive" or "you're in trouble." I didn't have time to wonder which before her arms wrapped around me in a tight squeeze.

"Welcome back, you idiots," she said, voice half-laugh, half-scold.

"Hey now," I wheezed. "I have bruised ribs, be gentle with your local idiot."

She didn't ease up, of course.

Then she turned to Sawyer and gave him the same treatment, though to be fair, Sawyer looked like he might pass out from the hug alone. He patted her shoulder like she was some sort of ancient animal you had to respect or it might eat you.

I just laughed, because honestly? It felt good to laugh. It felt safe.

We were home.

I plopped down onto one of the cushions near the center of the tent, the fabric soft and familiar. I looked around at the baskets, the folded clothes, the way Holly smiled gently and went right back to folding like we hadn't all been out risking our lives in Brob territory. Like this was just another regular day.

Sawyer sat next to me, finally loosening his grip on his pack like maybe it wasn't going to spontaneously combust after all.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding.

I didn't know who Victor really was. Not deep down. He was still a mystery with too many layers and way too many masks. But that didn't matter—not right now.

Because somehow, despite the odds, he'd gotten us back. All of us. In one piece.

No more scavenging. No more hiding under leaves or sleeping in broken bottle caps. No more nights where the stars felt too far and the ground too cold.

This was a home. Not perfect, not finished, but it was ours now.

And for that, I'd probably never be able to thank him properly.

But maybe that was okay.

Because sometimes, all you needed was a warm tent, a grumpy friend, and someone to call you an idiot when you walked through the door.

***

(Sydneys)

Vincent and I sat at the old spool table I'd turned into a makeshift workstation—part blueprint hub, part dining area, part "hey don't put your tools here" zone. The light from Skylar's window spilled through in faint patches, casting soft gold across the map I'd rolled out earlier. It was dog-eared, slightly smudged, and perfect.

Vincent had that usual calm look on his face, arms crossed as he scanned over it. He looked better—relaxed even. Still smelled a little like leather and dirt, but at least he wasn't limping or carrying any new scars.

"So," I said, tapping a pen on the corner of the map, "you staying a bit longer this time? Or is this another 'three-day-leadership-retreat' thing?"

He let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm staying."

"Good," I replied, grinning. "Because if you ghosted again, I was ready to transfer power to Meara. She already acts like she runs the place anyway."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You sure she wouldn't burn the tents down just to rebuild them better?"

"Oh, she definitely would. And somehow, she'd make it work."

We both chuckled, but something about saying it out loud brought a little weight off my shoulders. It was good that he was back. Really good.

"I mean, when you were gone..." I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the back of my neck, "...being left alone with those thugs gave me the worst feeling in my gut."

Vincent's face darkened just a little. I could see the memory click behind his eyes.

"Those fools," he muttered. "What were their names again?"

I tapped the side of my head. "I think... yeah—there was Bram, the loud one with the nose that looked like it'd been broken a dozen times. Then Lio, who never talked but always stared like he was planning something. And the last guy—Sern, the real muscle of the group. Tried to take one of our food crates and called it 'rent.' Like we have rent here."

Vincent shook his head. "I'll deal with them if they try anything again."

I shrugged. "Hey, now that you're back, I doubt they'll even sneeze without permission."

We stood there for a second in silence. It was kind of nice. Quiet, easy. The kind of peace you didn't get often when trying to build a town inside a Brob girl's apartment.

I cleared my throat and gave him a playful nudge with my elbow. "Well, Town Leader," I said with exaggerated flair, "wanna see what I've got cooked up for your glorious empire?"

He nodded, that same steady look on his face. "Let's get to it."

I grinned and turned back to the plans. We had people now—twenty new folks from Vu, Nemu, and Sawyer's colony, plus our original twelve. That meant more hands, more minds, more life.

Sure, we had a long way to go. The tents were temporary. Half the houses were just frames. And I still hadn't figured out how to make plumbing work in a world where a gust of wind could scatter your blueprints like leaves.

But we weren't surviving anymore.

We were building.