Continued from Ashes to Ashes.

He met her on the surrounding, just outside the gate to her wonder, and she was carrying a small ceramic urn and a sheath of photographs and nothing else. He nodded to her and offered her his arm and she took it, so, just like that, they were off.

The lights of Babylon glittered as they always did. The flowers had come into bloom once more, guided by whatever seasonal cycle it was that ruled them, and their sweet scent filled the air. Beside him, he heard Virgo sniffle once. “Where should we go?” he asked, and she looked down at the urn.

“Somewhere we can catch the wind,” said Virgo.

Babylon nodded. “We should probably start climbing,” he said. She nodded, and started ahead of him, like she had something to prove, and he caught up to her at the top of the first staircase.

“I’m fine,” she said, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Let’s keep going.”

After climbing steadily for half an hour, they reached the topmost point of the city. Virgo sat down on an ancient bench, smoothed her chiton out over her lap, and balanced the urn between her knees. Babylon could tell from the way she breathed through her teeth that she was trying to catch her breath without him knowing she’d ever lost it.

After a long moment, she swallowed visibly. Then, she held the sheath of photographs out to him. “I printed these out,” said Virgo. “It’s all I have of her. Could you - could you take them? I don’t want them right now.” But I might, someday, was implied.

Babylon nodded and took the photographs from her, glancing at them only briefly before tucking them inside his coat for safe keeping. He’d look later, he thought, and then he’d put them away somewhere safe where not even Arkady would find them. “Thanks,” he said, briefly resting his hand over the photographs.

“Of course,” said Virgo quietly, staring down at the urn. Babylon let his hands go slack at his sides, waiting for her to suggest what should come next, and after a moment she got to her feet. “There’s not much ash,” she said. “She was… she was very small. I - I think that there’s enough wind here.”

She held the urn out to him - now that he saw it closer up, he noticed it had the name Orianna Arma and a pair of dates engraved on the lid.

Their daughter had died on Christmas eve.

Babylon pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth and let it fall. He unscrewed the lid of the urn and uncapped the inner compartment. There was barely more than a few pinches of ash there, and he held it out to her. “Together?” he suggested, but Elke shook her head.

“No, thank you,” she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d rather you do it.”

He wondered if he should say something, a prayer, or - but Virgo seemed to be barely holding together as it was and he didn’t want to make this go on for any longer than it needed to. In one clean motion, Babylon upended the urn into his naked palm, made a fist around the ashes, and held them out for the wind to take.

It was over quickly. Babylon lowered his hand, closed the urn, and picked up his dropped glove. He looked over at Virgo. She pressed her lips together into a tight line, and then said, “You can keep the urn if you’d like.”

“Let’s leave it here somewhere,” said Babylon. She wouldn’t like it if he suggested her old home, he thought. “The crypt,” he said. “With Menachem’s lantern.” (He’d build that statue someday.)

Virgo looked away for a moment, and then she nodded very quickly and said, “Yes.”

The walk downhill went quicker than the walk up. “I’ve never been to the crypt before,” Virgo said in the tunnel, walking a bit closer to him than she had previously. “I-” she began, and fell silent again as they reached the chamber. Babylon extended his free arm towards her and, when she didn’t move away, let it rest around her shoulders.

“Here,” he said, steering her towards the empty alcove where he’d lain Menachem’s lantern.

“That’s-” said Virgo, pressing a hand to her lips.

“Yeah,” said Babylon, setting the urn down beside the shattered lantern. Virgo inched closer to him, and he settled his cape around her shoulders. “Let’s - I know somewhere we can go sit down for a while.”

“I’d like that,” she said, so he took her up to the house that had been Menachem’s. In the foyer, Virgo paused and looked up the stairs for a long time, and then followed him through to the dining room. Babylon could guess what she was thinking about: there as a bedroom upstairs, untouched by wind and weather, all made up for the little boy she’d had to give up a lifetime ago.

“I’ll go get us something to drink,” he said, and came back with a bottle of wine from the seemingly-unending cellar, and two glasses from the kitchen. He poured for both of them, small helpings to start - some attempt at pacing that he knew would likely be abandoned after the first glass.

“Thank you,” said Virgo, taking the glass from him. She eyed it suspiciously, took a tiny sip - her usual weirdness around food, Babylon supposed. “I remember this wine,” she said. “This is a thousand years old. How is it not vinegar?”

“Some kind of magical warding on the cellar,” shrugged Babylon, picking up his own glass. Menachem had been a more clever magician than he could ever hope to be, working spells far beyond the capabilities he had. Perhaps everyone had been stronger in the Silver Millenium. Perhaps it was something he could learn to do if he took the time. He doubted Virgo would much want to talk about the subject.

Virgo took another sip. “I - she - Aria used to drink this with him on visits home,” she said, and then added, “I should stop talking about her like she’s me.” She studied her glass for a moment, then took a longer swallow from it. “I’ve been going to therapy. Private sessions, and group, three times a week with soldiers recovering from battlefield injuries, and we talk about how you recover from war. How you move on from it and go back to being a civilian - well, they talk. I don’t say much.”

She finished her glass of wine and held it out to him, and he poured her more this time. “I wanted Ori to be Aria’s happy ending, like she’d be getting something back that she couldn’t keep last time,” she said, “But I wasn’t thinking about me at all. About what a happy ending would be for me - and it was killing me.”

She took another sip, and Babylon was concerned about her drinking too quickly but he also didn’t want to stop her yet. “I’m glad you’re thinking about that now,” he said.

Virgo smiled, a little shyly. “I met someone in my therapy group,” she said. “I like him a lot. I - I think that after this, I’m not going to be Soldier Virgo anymore. I’m just going to focus on being Elke.”

Babylon, who had never thought he would advise anyone in favor of permanent dereliction of duty, nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That sounds good for you. You should do that, but - keep in touch, okay? My mom likes you.”

“My mom likes you, too,” blushed Virgo. She glanced at her glass, and then back to him. “Thank you for doing this today. For helping me.”

“Of course,” said Babylon, refilling his glass. Virgo looked like she was at peace, and if that was the case, then so was he.