The swaddled heap of unkempt hair and open sores that is Gilbert gives no objections to being bridal-carried to home base, instead voicing his concerns about infecting you and the others. You assure him that the plague doesn't work like he thinks it does and that you have faith in your immune system; even after becoming a Regenerator, you never missed a dose of your Flintstones vitamins.
To assuage his concerns, you prop him against the doorway so he won't tip over and inform what Churchmen aren't busy putting Simon back together about their new patient before bringing him in. They quickly assemble a makeshift quarantine zone on the unoccupied third floor with some nails and the massive curtains you used to put Ebrietas' habit together. After getting him settled in and checking on the new arrivals, you walk over to Agatha, who's still trying and failing to get that one paranoid guy from before to join the group.
"Ye doin' alright?" you ask.
"Quite well, thank you. I don't think the chapel was ever this busy."
"About that; are ye fine with this much company? Kinda feel like I dragged ye inta all this without properly appraisin' ye of the oncomin' clusterfuck."
He creaks his face towards you and offers a warm, toothless smile. "Father Anderson, I was convinced I was going to die here alone. My only company was the Churchman they sent to bring me food once a day and the occasional Hunter I never heard from again. You gave me company and a purpose. I'm part of whatever grand design you're putting together and there's nothing more I could want. I am more grateful than you can imagine,." He turns back to his quarry, whose debris fort will hit the medical area in about an hour at its current rate of growth. "Don't worry about me. You've still some work to do, I understand."
"Aye, more than ye know." You pat him on the shoulder and search for Eileen, whom you find on the roof. As expected, the Powder Kegs are deeply entrenched in debate. Steffon's tendency to swing the scoped howitzer he calls a rifle around to emphasize his points has the whole rooftop on edge, leading to various iterations of The Wave as everyone sequentially ducks. Liam, being unable to duck far enough, just stands behind him.
"Think that's everyone in Yharnam proper," you tell her. "Gonna go let Gehrman know what happened in the Nightmare and then head ta Byrgenwerth."
She nods. "What's the timing looking like?"
"I'll go after Rom in twenty minutes. I want everyone inside the ward by then. Would ye mind doin' a quick sweep o' Yahar'gul with Ebrietas and Liam? They may have done some kidnappin' recently and I figure Liam can point out where they'd keep 'em."
"Don't mind at all. Twenty minutes?"
"Twenty minutes."
She heads over to Liam, giving Steffon a quick telling-off for his irresponsible gun handling on the way, and you head down to the lantern. You find Hope tending to Gehrman's garden, a group of Messengers in their stump offering silent tips and judging the old man's arrangements. Mini-Ebrietas' tentacles help with the finer work that Hope's ball-jointed fingers can't quite manage. As always, the two of you bow to one another and you fill her in on your latest misadventures.
Kos is dead? Ebrietas droops and a handful of Messengers rush over to comfort her. I liked her. She was nice.
"Dead when we got there, yeah. Maria told us that was Byrgenwerth's great sin. Her kid tried ta kill us before we could get acquainted."
I don't blame you.
"Mama Anderson says I had a go at the doctors when I first came out and they weren't even armed. Understandable response on the kid's part, really." You turn to Hope. "Gehrman inside? Hopin' ta fill 'im in."
She smiles, no trace of sadness on her face. "He already knows, Hunter Anderson. I have never seen him sleep so soundly." She places her hands on yours. "There is much he wishes he could say to you and cannot. Never think he does not appreciate all you have done for him."
"Just doin' my job," you reply. "Slayin' the monsters, savin' the maidens, bein' a hero."
Do I count as a maiden?
"If ye want to."
She flutters happily.
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