Sorry.

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I'm sorry for what I said to my teammates, the team, everything.

Whatever name you give me, I'll take.

I'm sorry for being an asshole.

Strange choice of days to make this announcement, I know.

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But since everyone I needed to talk to about this has now stopped by the infirmary to see me, plus I don't have a tube in my chest anymore, I figured I might as well bat my eyes at Amelia and get my laptop back.

I'll just come out and say it, I guess - I'm retiring from active duty with the team. I think this has been a while in coming. I've taken a lot of punishment over the years, and the last few times, I haven't just not been bouncing back, I haven't been able to get all the way back. I won't whine about my aches and pains; suffice to say they're constant, even when I'm not lying flat on my back in the infirmary with my ribs in a few dozen pieces.

Beyond that, I think it's just time. It's thirty years since I was first put into the field by Mistra. That's a long, long time to be doing this kind of work. I've seen a lot of things I can't unsee and more than anyone should really have to see. I'm more tired than I usually like to let on.

And then there's the four year-old whose birthday I missed, again. I don't think I need to say anything more about that.

This isn't goodbye by any means, of course. I'm not going anywhere - Scott's convinced me to stay on as a reserve member. Plus, once I'm back on my feet, I've promised to take an active role on the training side of things. If nothing else, I can teach you all what not to do, right?