For a second, John’s throat closes painfully tight. He’s back in the jungle, clinging to CO’s lifeless body, uncertain if he can even give her a burial…

That he can do this lances something in his chest that hurts—but it’s almost good, the way it makes his eyes burn and his gut unclench. At the same time it’s hell, because she’s gone because he cared for her—she died because of him and no memorial will ever make that right.

Taking a deep breath, John shakes his head.

“No, I uhm…I’ll think it over. Maybe find some stuff to read at the service, don’t think they got bibles here. I—thanks, Father. Seriously.”