Author's Notes: Dear readers, my apologies again for the long wait you've endured for the end of this story. Finishing this fic coincided with a very rough time in Real Life, and for a while, I was having a lot of trouble even editing it. The Generation K series finale, Character & Fitness, will follow in a few months, I'm bound and determined, and there will be at least one more chapter of Tales From The Front Lines. Thank you all a thousand times over for all your feedback over these past two years (no joke, do you realize I started posting this fic right after Christmas 2014?!) This fandom has gotten me through the three worst years of my life, so along with the Great Guillermo Del Toro's storytelling, I thank all of you.

Epilogue: The Prodigal Son

July 25, 2025…
Hong Kong Shatterdome…

The fourth Jaeger for Operation Pitfall was Gipsy Danger. When Herc and Chuck arrived at Hong Kong Shatterdome, Tendo met them and said Marshal Pentecost was on his way back with the pilot they'd re-enlisted.

And then, Chuck knew. He felt the jolt of realization through his old man, followed by anxiety, embarrassment, and even…regret. Regret at thing that might have been but hadn't been and wondering if maybe it would've ended differently.

Some things never changed. Ten kills, and Chuck still wasn't good enough for his old man.

With the way you act, do you really expect to be?

The pathetic part was that Chuck couldn't be sure if that thought was coming through the ghost drift from Herc or just inside his own mind.

Chuck wanted to skip the reunions altogether and go straight to the simulator, but of course, his old man refused. Besides, the prospective co-pilots queueing up around the block to ride with the great Raleigh Becket were keeping the simulator tied up. So Chuck surrendered to the inevitable and waited with his old man.

"Chuck! Herc! Gentlemen, welcome to Hong Kong!" Pentecost's bellow rang through the chaos and noise of the Jaeger bays.

And there he was. Raleigh motherfucking Becket, swaggering back into the Shatterdome after five years hiding while good Rangers kept fighting and dying.

"…mediocre pilots…"

"Wait here," Herc muttered, and Chuck was all too happy to follow that order. Max went galumphing along with Herc to drool all over the Mori girl – she adored him and he adored her – and Chuck just watched.

The spectacle of dissembling that followed was almost enough to make Chuck laugh out loud. "Raleigh, this is Hercules Hansen, an old friend from the Mark-1 glory days," Pentecost blustered.

Herc shook Becket's hand and plowed through reintroduction in a rush: "I know you, mate, we rode together before."

To Herc (and Chuck's) intense relief, Becket wasn't interested in going into details about their previous meetings either. "We did, sir, six years ago, my brother and I; it was a three-Jaeger team drop."

"That's right, Manila." Herc stepped closer, lowering his voice. "'m sorry about your brother."

"Thank you, sir." Becket answered him steadily. There was a look about him then that was familiar, but Chuck couldn't place it – Herc did, and through the ghost drift, Chuck saw. It was the same look that was now in Pentecost's eyes, and before him, Duc Jessop's: a Ranger without his partner.

And there was Herc, all full of sympathy, as if Becket was the only bloke in the Jaeger Program who'd lost someone. Well, Chuck knew his job in this mission, and he had two good Jaegers whose pilots had actually kept their shit together to watch his back. If Becket and Pentecost couldn't pull together the old Mark-3 rust bucket in time, it was no skin of Chuck's nose. He wouldn't wait around for the has-been to keep up.

Herc's disgust and shame flashed through the ghost drift, and Chuck pulled away, trying to shut him out. That was useless, of course. As useless as trying not to see Devi and Susanti Hassans' faces, and remembering their voices on the comm, that last day.

"And Raleigh, if you ever see him, tell him we love him."

Had Tendo told Becket that yet?

They loved him. Well, of course they bloody loved him, everyone in the Corps loves him. He ran out on us all, and they still loved him. All anyone could talk about was him. Even my old man would rather have had him.

Chuck's old man might be kissing up to Becket, but Chuck wasn't going to. He called Max back as Pentecost explained the plan – though Becket was evidently too dense to figure it all out.

But they loved him.

He rubbed Max down and glanced at the boxes on the cart next to him from Sydney…his gaze fell on Devi and Susanti's chess set. He could've gone with Herc and Pentecost for the meeting with K-Science, but he sat there and stared at it like it would have all the answers.

Maybe it did.

Or maybe he already knew.

She loved him. Not Becket. Not either Becket. They were her friends, and she loved them, but…she loved my dad.

He'd known that, deep down. He'd never even managed to admit it in a conscious thought; why the hell was it sinking in now? He had other things to worry about, for Chrissakes.

But it was there, as if the chess set carried it, and he couldn't stop thinking it. Devi. She loved me. But she loved my dad, and I knew it. It wasn't even that I was jealous. I knew she'd always love me even if she got together with my dad. It didn't matter. I just knew she wouldn't…act on it, not unless I was okay with it. I liked that. I liked that she'd put me ahead of him. I liked that he knew she would. Someone would chose me. So I made her choose.

I didn't care whether it hurt her or not. I loved her and she loved me, and she could've been my…but I didn't want her to love my dad, not like that. So I didn't let her.

Susanti had known. She'd had Chuck's number from the beginning. That was probably why sometimes he'd thought she didn't like him. Well, what was there to like? She'd known what Chuck Hansen was, and even in Hawaii, she'd known what he was doing to her sister. She'd probably known why. At least she must've realized how little Devi's feelings had actually mattered in the face of Chuck's need to stick it to his old man, even then. What a petty, vindictive little shit he'd been, and Suze had always known it.

She'd loved Chuck anyway. They'd both said it, at the end. He should've said it back to them.

Guess it's just as well you can't see me now. All that hope you pinned on me and look what it came out to. Ten kills, and I still didn't live up to it.

"Look, they decommissioned the Jaeger Program because of mediocre pilots."

I didn't mean it. I swear, I didn't mean it.

Since when was it a sign of merit that somebody as spiteful and crass as Chuck Hansen was alive when good people were dead? Everyone who'd ever been worthy of humanity's hope was dead, dying, or crippled. Everyone who'd ever deserved Devi and Susanti's love – well, most of them were dead. With luck, Indra would talk his aunt and uncle into moving, in case Pitfall failed.

I can kill kaiju, but I didn't manage to save anybody. All I did was spit in the faces of everyone who's left.

Devi and Susanti would've been so glad to see Raleigh Becket come back. All Chuck wanted to do was spit in his face. It only made the desire stronger to remember that they'd loved him. You don't deserve that any more than I do, not after you ran. Ironic, you and me being here at the end. My old man would've rather had you. I bet he'd still rather have you. He and the world got stuck with me.

All Chuck could do now was carry a bomb in a last-gasp effort that nobody else in the world knew or cared about. Whether Becket managed to get a co-pilot for that rust bucket didn't make any difference. Chuck knew his job. He knew what he was actually good for.

Maybe by blowing myself up in the Breach, I can manage to make it up to you all.

~Fin~

And so ends my prehistory of the Jaeger Program! I'm sorry this was such a downer ending (another reason I held off on posting it), but remember, there's healing to be had from Conflict of Interest, and all loose threads will be tied up in Character and Fitness. Thank you all again for your wonderful feedback and commentary and theories over this long, long journey!

A small teaser for Generation K: Character and Fitness: this fic will assume that the war is entirely over - I'll let the real writers decide where to go with their sequel. HOWEVER...I am retconning Jake Pentecost into existence. I waffled on it, but ultimately could not resist. His history will be posted shortly in the next chapter of Tales From The Front Lines!

PLEASE don't forget to review!