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1973.
A broken voice, ashamed of being caught for a secret hidden way too long. “This never should have happened the way it did. And I am so sorry, Misha. I truly am.”
Silence is all he gets in response.
“You have to understand. Your counterpart? He was not a nice man.” Hands wrung together in a pleading motion. Understanding that this was inevitable, and oh so easy to avoid had he just come clean first thing. He did not.
Misha continues to stay silent. He is often a man of few words. But this silence hurts differently. It cuts like a knife.
“I did what I had to do to protect myself. If I did not, he would have killed me! Do you understand? I did not want to die!”
“You lied to me.”
“Well, I…” He stops himself, shame filling him up and he can’t look Misha in the eye. Stupid. He’s being stupid. His lover is right, and they both know it. He wronged his beloved, and so he must pay the price for his sins. “I am sorry,” he says again, like it’ll make much of a difference. He hopes there will be forgiveness. Forgiveness that he doesn’t deserve.
“Break.”
“Entschuldige?”
“We go on break for now,” Misha decides. “Need time apart. I do not wish to do anything rash, or that I will regret. So we go on break. I will call you when I am ready.”
“But-”
“Break.” Misha’s gaze finally shifts and turns firm. Determined. His lover seems to almost shrink under Misha’s looks. This can’t be happening. It was supposed to be them together, until the very end.
“Look, I understand, but I really cannot -”
“Goodbye, Herbert.” And then Misha is gone without looking back.
1985.
It actually kind of surprises him that he’s the first to arrive. Herbert Ludwig, once the Medic but now a nobody, is alone as he knocks on the door of the Willis-Pauling household and is rewarded by the sound of fast yet heavy footsteps running to open it.
At once, the door is flung open by two children, about six or seven. A brother and a sister. They both have brown skin and curly black hair, but their eyes are quite familiar. “Hello,” Herbert replies quietly, feeling as though he’s an evil intruder who doesn’t belong on this doorstep. Was coming here a mistake?
“Who are you?” the boy asks, scrunching up his face in confusion.
“Lucas!” Jeremy snaps, finally coming into view with a tray that has miniature hot dogs wrapped in puff pastry on it. “That’s a very rude thing to say!”
“What? It’s not like I’ve ever met this guy!”
“Stop talking,” Lucas’s sister groans. “You’re so embarrassing sometimes. I wish I wasn’t related to you.”
“And Lily, that’s enough out of you too. Both of you go help your mom put out snacks.” Jeremy hands the tray to the kids and motions for them to run back inside the house. To Herbert, he practically beams. “And third of all! Where the fuck have you been all these years, man!?”
“Sorry,” Herbert says quietly. “I’ve just been…busy?”
It’s not exactly a lie. He has actually been busy, finding odd jobs around New York City that he can complete for enough cash to keep himself afloat. That’s all Herbert really wants Jeremy to know anyways. And thankfully, it’s enough of an excuse that Jeremy just shrugs and motions for Herbert to follow him inside. The second Herbert kicks off his boots, Jeremy grabs his arm.
“Yeah, sure. I totally get it. What, with Flo and me workin’ now, and the triplets got school and swimmin’ lessons and shit. It’s crazy! We almost had to back out of hostin’ this year!”
Herbert is practically dragged along into the living room as Jeremy keeps talking. It does feel a bit heartwarming to know some things haven’t changed, such as Jeremy’s tendency to run his mouth and brag. Herbert can at least tell himself that he isn’t exactly an imposter and that Jeremy isn’t a stranger, even if he struggles to believe it. Perhaps he needs a little more time to warm up to the familiarity of it all. Things will be fine, right?
“Anyways,” Jeremy continues, gesturing for Herbert to sit down on the couch. The tray of mini hot dogs is on the coffee table. Jeremy proceeds to pop one in his mouth. “I don’t mind it. I mean, keepin’ busy keeps me sane, if that makes sense. And it’s so good to see everyone. Tomorrow, we’re gonna visit my ma and my brother to have Smissmas with them, then the day after day we got lunch with the surrogate and her husband. But I love it! I love all of it!”
“That sounds nice,” Herbert mutters, not knowing what else to say. He isn’t surprised that Jeremy and Flo settled down and had a little family of their own. Expected it, even. Honestly, with the way Jeremy was always smiling at her, Flo had to notice eventually.
But sitting here in the warm house, seeing it all firsthand, it makes him feel strange. He’s really missed out on a lot, hasn’t he? Jeremy and Flo are living together in a house full of light and noise and Herbert is nothing but Herbert. Holed up in his little apartment, never going outside unless it’s to work, staying up late into the hours of the night and sleeping until one in the afternoon…
“Herbert!” Flo calls out, carrying two mugs into the living room. She’s wearing a green and red sweater. She presses one into Jeremy’s hands, and he smooches her on the cheek in thanks. “It’s great to see you finally! We missed having you around!”
“Likewise,” Herbert stammers out, almost on autopilot, as he searches Flo’s eyes to try and read her expressions. He expects a sneer of betrayal, a sign she doesn’t want to see him unless he’s dead and being buried in the earth. But her facial features seem to match the excitement of her words. She is genuinely happy to have him back.
For some annoying reason, Herbert isn’t really comforted by this fact. It only serves to make him feel worse.
“Would you like something to drink?” Flo continues. “We have some beer, red wine, juice, water…”
“Don’t forget the Kool-Aid!” Jeremy pipes up. “The kids and I worked all mornin’ on that!”
Flo chuckles. “And Kool-Aid. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe.”
“I’m fine for now,” Herbert mutters, hands balling into fists and nails digging into his skin. Just enough for him to feel it, and for the sensation to keep him grounded. As calm and pleasant as everything is, there’s still a sense of worrying in his head. As if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Flo and Jeremy’s smiles to drop, and for them to admit the truth.
They know what he did. What a filthy coward he was. He isn’t wanted here. Why are they keeping up this facade? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just say what they feel?
And for a moment, Flo does look a touch perplexed, but then the doorbell rings and she’s startled by that. She turns to look at the door, but three young voices scream out “I GOT IT!” and then the triplets are racing each other to be the first one to invite the next guest inside. Herbert follows Flo and Jeremy as they walk over as well, wondering who is next to arrive.
Lily reaches the door before her siblings and flings it open. “Uncle Tav!” she shrieks in excitement.
“Well, if it isn’t my three favourite little beans in the whole wide world! Lily, Lola, and Lucas!” Tavish chuckles as he scoops up one girl in each arm. Lucas clings onto Tavish’s leg. “Move over Santa Claus, because Uncle Tav’s in town now! And he’ll be bringing all sorts of goodies with him.”
“Goodies!” Lily squeals in excitement.
“Did you bring us another sword?” Lola asks, eyes sparkling in excitement at the prospect.
“Tavish!” Jeremy snaps. “You bring ‘em enough knives, swords, and shit! What the heck am I ‘sposed to tell the other parents on the PTA board? They’re gonna think I’m a serial killer.”
Tavish merely shrugs, as well as a man can when he’s got a young girl in each arm. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, lad.” He bursts into laughter, and Herbert finds himself nervously chuckling along.
Suddenly, a hand presses against the small of his back and Herbert whirls around to find Jean standing there. Jean just smiles warmly at him. “This is a nice Smissmas present. Things just weren’t always complete when you weren’t there.”
“I’m here now!” Herbert insists, voice much less nervous. It feels easier to relax around Tavish and Jean, two men he’s always found easier to get along with over the much younger and more sports-inclined Jeremy. So seeing Jean smile warmly at him banishes his worries and tells him he’s truly been meant to be here. He thinks.
“Indeed you are,” Jean replies. When Tavish puts the girls down, Jean grabs onto Tavish’s hand and now Herbert is suddenly flooded once more with a sense of missing out. When did that happen? Tavish and Jean? The explosives expert and the stealthy assassin? He never would’ve guessed.
“Are you alright, mon ami?”
“Y-yes,” Herbert replies, trying not to hiss out his “s” sounds. “I am just…realizing how long I have been away for. A lot has changed.”
“Not that I mind!” Tavish responds happily. “I get to play uncle to the coolest tots in the world.”
Herbert wishes that Tavish’s joy could be contagious for him, the way it is for everyone else, but it’s hard to shake himself out of a stupor. He walks about as if he is in a daze, even as he helps Jean move presents under the tree and accepts a glass of cider from Tavish.
“You and…” he mumbles to Jean. “You and Tavish. When…when?”
Jean merely shrugs. “For about ten years now, I would say. We found ourselves staying in the same area of France and decided to do some travelling together. From there, the relationship just naturally evolved. It just seemed like the right direction to take things, as we go all over the world.”
Herbert nods quietly into his cider. Travelling. When was the last time he left New York City? Heck, when was the last time he left his apartment for something outside of a random errand or job? He used to be the busiest member of the team, and now he’s practically an isolated shut-in.
Jane and Zhanna are next with their two children in tow, and Herbert isn’t surprised about that in the slightest. Given how much Zhanna talked about being impregnated by Jane literally the day Herbert met her, he figured it was a foregone conclusion. Now there are five children running around the house, at least until Flo demands that they take their ruckus upstairs so she can check on the food in the oven without worrying about someone getting a concussion.
As much as Herbert is relieved that Jane has barely changed in the last 13 or so years since they all went their separate ways, he finds himself avoiding Zhanna as much as he possibly can. Thankfully, she doesn’t comment and instead challenges Tavish to a drinking contest. Jane and Jeremy cheer, and Jean sighs in defeat. Flo pats him on the back.
And the awkwardness only grows when Mundy and Pyro show up half an hour later, each with a twin strapped to their chest. Once more, Herbert is the only one out of the loop; Jeremy pokes fun at Mundy for complaining about having to change only two diapers at once, and Flo holds one of the twins as Pyro enthralls her and Tavish about their journey to Finland with their family.
This is all fine, Herbert tries to tell himself, gripping onto his cold glass of cider like a lifeline. A lot can change in just a few years. What right do I have to complain? I’m the one who hid myself away like a coward.
Yet still, the bitterness steeps within him, only growing in its potency. It just doesn’t feel fair. Why is he the only one who’s miserable? Why is he the only one who’s alone? Why did everybody get to find some semblance of joy and yet he let his regrets and mistakes take him over, molding him and shaping him until he’s nothing but a-
The absolute booming of a knock makes him almost jump several feet into the air, but Jeremy chucks the door open without a complaint. “Misha! We missed you, big man! Bring it in, brother!”
Misha does exactly that, lifting Jeremy off the ground with a squeeze. Then, he locks eyes with Herbert and Herbert’s throat goes entirely dry. He hasn’t seen Misha in almost thirteen years. Ever since Misha’s eyes filled with betrayal, and he walked out and never came back.
“You…” Herbert coughs out, but Misha just looks away from him. He reaches out the door and takes the hand of the last person Herbert ever expected him to.
Dell Conagher.
The glass falls from Herbert’s hand and shatters all over the floor.
This was a mistake. That’s all Herbert can focus on as he sits alone in an armchair, trying to tune out the current conversation at hand. Dell is gushing over his two daughters, whatever the hell they’re doing nowadays, and showing off pictures.
“My darling stepdaughters,” Misha agrees. “Lovely women, they are. I look forward to having dinner with them next week.”
Stepdaughters. Are you fucking serious? That strikes a nerve with Herbert. Misha has really moved on. He’s found a new love, a new life, a new family, and he’s so annoyingly fucking happy.
Everyone is happy.
Except Herbert Ludwig.
Herbert wants to scream. Dell fucking Conagher. Are they kidding!? During the Team Fortress days, Dell was Herbert’s biggest confidant and the only person he ever considered a friend. Dell was always ready to help Herbert with an experiment, providing a listening ear as Herbert complained about the stupidity of their teammates, and even told Herbert to “go get ‘em, tiger!” when Herbert was pondering if he should ask Misha out. Dell was probably the biggest cheerleader of their relationship, just glad to see his bud happy.
And he has the audacity to go and become Misha’s new beau.
Herbert wants to feel disgusted, wants to lunge across the coffee table and choke the living daylights out of Dell. He doesn’t. He knows he has nobody to blame but himself. He kept such an awful secret from his lover, and that destroyed everything they had. Misha had every right to move on and find someone he could trust. Who is more trustworthy than Dell Conagher?
“Hey, mate,” Tavish suddenly whispers to him as Jane makes everyone look at pictures of him and Zhanna blowing up Mount Rushmore with homemade explosives. “You’re looking a wee bit pale. All good at home?”
“Everything is just fine,” Herbert snaps, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. A total lie. Isn’t it obvious? Everything is not fine! Why is he here!? He should’ve stayed home!
Tavish cocks his head to the side. “Um…you sure?”
“DINNER!” Jeremy suddenly calls out, mercifully sparing Herbert from having to continue the conversation further. The kids stampede into the dining room, and the adults move up from their seats as well.
“About time!” Tavish chuckles. “I’m famished!”
“You’re always hungry, dear,” Jean says fondly, holding hands with Tavish once more.
Herbert makes sure to sit as far away as possible from Misha and Dell…which puts him right next to Jane and Jeremy’s kids. Hoo boy. And just like their dads, they’re all quite noisy. Herbert just hopes nobody flings a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his hair or something.
The food is quite tasty, even though Herbert can’t really focus on it. Every time Misha laughs, his heart clenches up. Twelve years. Twelve difficult, difficult, difficult years. How he has missed that sound; how he’d do anything to bring it back. But now Dell is the one making Misha laugh and smile and Herbert is little more than a bad memory.
Herbert can’t take it anymore. “I’m going to the bathroom!” he announces abruptly, standing up so suddenly that his chair nearly tips over.
“Sure, man!” Jeremy chuckles. “Just down the hall, on the left.”
Herbert nods and heads off in that direction, but he doesn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he slips out the backdoor. There’s a playset covered in snow. Herbert wipes the snow off one of the swings and sits down on it with a sigh.
“What do I do now?” he whispers into the darkness of a winter evening in Boston. Conflict rises within him because Herbert really doesn’t know if he wants to stay or leave. Face the music and accept that everybody has more or less moved on without him, or run away like a coward.
Really, why should Herbert have expected anything different? It’s his fault, anyways. He’s the one who turned the lights off and pretended nobody was home. He returned the letters, let the calls go to voicemail, said nothing and saw nobody for twelve whole years. His teammates and colleagues had no choice but to carve him out of their lives and soldier on without their Medic.
One would think that after twelve years, the guilt and shame would have subsided. And it did, just a bit. But now it’s back in full force, brought to the forefront of Herbert’s mind by the presence of the dear man he lied to.
So…yeah. He should just go. Coming here was a mistake. He’ll just bring the mood down, and nobody else deserves that.
“Herbert?”
It’s Flo. She’s wearing her winter jacket, closing the backyard door she just slipped out of. “Look, I hate to point out the obvious, but this isn’t the bathroom.”
“I know,” Herbert says bluntly.
Flo gives him a sad stare before she sits down on the swing next to him. “Seriously. Are you feeling alright? You seem…off.”
Herbert’s first instinct is to insist that he’s completely fine, but he knows that Flo doesn’t deserve that. He looks over at her to take her appearance in. She’s more vibrant and relaxed than he can ever recall seeing her. The stress of life in the Administrator's shadow is long gone, leaving Florina Pauling to finally be free to live her own life. A chance to figure out who she is when she isn’t serving someone else.
So Herbert doesn’t double down on the lie. He instead pulls off his sweater vest and undoes his shirt. Flo stays silent, waiting.
But she doesn’t gasp when she sees the machinery hanging off Herbert’s back. The soft glow of the golden Australium illuminates both of their skin. Just enough to keep Herbert alive; he never took more than what was necessary. Now, he isn’t sure if he can ever go without it. He’s grown a touch too dependent on the mineral to keep him alive and breathing even without the possibility of being murdered by a madman hanging over his head.
“I’m sorry,” Herbert says quietly, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I should have told you long ago, instead of hiding like a coward.”
Flo nods, her face unreadable. “Is that why you and Misha-”
“Not quite. More that I simply omitted enough information during our time together. He was upset that I kept it a secret from him for a year.” Herbert huffs as he puts his clothes back on. “Which is fair. I just thought he would come back eventually, instead of moving on for good.”
“Gosh, Herbert.” Flo sighs gently. “I’m so sorry that happened. I know you two were always so close.”
“Well, it hardly matters anymore, does it?” Herbert scoffs into the winter air. “He is happy now. And I still have the machine strapped to my body. At first, it was to keep myself safe from Chevy. What an awful and dangerous man he was. Now, I…do not know if I can ever bring myself to take it off.”
“It’s addicting, isn’t it?” Flo murmurs. “So much power in one little mineral. It’s like it somehow knows how captivating it is. I mean, I can’t judge you, because I wanted to fall for it too.”
“Well, you are much stronger than I will ever be.”
“You’re strong too, you know.”
Herbert wants to laugh. “Am I? Am I really? Look at me, Flo. I am nothing more than a bitter, greedy, selfish old man. You all lead happy and perfect lives with each other. I am lonely. And I have nobody to blame but myself.”
“Awwww, Herbert! Don’t say that!”
“But it is true!”
“You made mistakes,” Flo insists. “But I’ve made plenty of them, so I can’t judge you at all. It’s been thirteen years since everything went down. And I’ve learned a few things in the meantime.”
Flo laces her fingers together and folds her hands in her lap. “It’s hard to start being so carefree when for the longest time, all you’ve known is a stressful life. Killing, writing, hiding, searching, lying…everything I did for a woman who never truly cared about me at all. And then Jeremy and I finally had a chance to be ourselves and…you wanna know the funny part, Herbert? It took me literal years to figure out who I was underneath all that hell of gravel wars and red and blue!”
Herbert nods quietly, listening to her speak.
“I mean, I’m not unhappy. But being happy is hard all the time. Sometimes, I feel like I’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone. I can’t even wear purple anymore because it brings up too many bad memories. Sometimes my kids will randomly decide they don’t like something and I have to straight up remind myself that nobody will die just because I didn’t immediately please them. So it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I have my bad moments too.”
Herbert blinks. “Really,” he says. Is he shocked? No. But…he really didn’t put two and two together, did he. He just assumed everyone was better off than he ever was and forgot to remember that his colleagues and their families…they’re all people too.
People who fought in the same war and saw the same horrors.
“Anyways,” Flo concludes. “That’s enough depressing stuff for now. Things are getting better, which I’m happy about. But…what will you do? Yeah sure, you fucked up, but are you going to keep on moping about it?”
“I am not moping!” Herbert insists, well aware that’s all he’s pretty much been doing since 1973.
“Come on. You are. It’s written all over your face.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I am moping.” Herbert huffs and wraps his arms around himself. “I just thought…well…since everyone is so close to each other…”
“Yeah?”
“That Misha would have said something.” Herbert sucks in a cold breath. “That he would have told you all that I am little more than a coward, traitor, or liar. That you would all have found out and nobody would want anything to do with me anymore. I had no reason to believe that. But somehow, I convinced myself it was true.”
“It’s not,” Flo reminds him. “We missed you. We all did. Last year, Mundy and Pyro hosted and I actually overheard Misha asking them if you were coming. Even if he isn’t in love with you anymore, he still cares about you.”
Herbert blinks. “What…ernsthaft!? He asked about me?”
“You can still care about someone and not date them, you know.”
“Of course I know that!” Herbert snaps. “I just believed he hated me. But now, I am foolish for thinking that was ever true.”
“Maybe you could talk to him?” Flo asks. “Just for closure. It might do you some good.”
Herbert gives it some thought. That might not be a bad idea. He nods quietly and some of the sadness within him begins to melt away. Maybe things will be okay, and he’ll finally feel like he can breathe for the first time in a long time.
“After dessert,” Flo insists. She rises from her swing and offers her hand out to Herbert. “Come on. You’ll like it.”
After a delicious black forest cake for dessert, the party begins to wind down. Jean helps Jeremy prepare coffee while the kids play upstairs and the adults talk. Herbert finds Misha and Dell holding hands in the hallway, staring at photos together while they talk in hushed voices.
“Misha?” Herbert asks, forcing down a sense of shyness. Now’s not that time to be a chicken. Some talks must be held, as uncomfortable as they are.
Misha turns around to look at him. He looks nice with a beard, Herbert thinks. Despite his age, he still seems quite youthful and very healthy. He’s clearly been taking care of himself.
“I’ll leave you two be for now,” Dell promises, kissing Misha on the cheek and then disappearing into the kitchen to help out. Misha and Herbert are now standing in front of each other, a mirror of how they last stood all those years ago.
“I am sorry,” Misha says first.
Herbert blinks at this statement. “You…you are apologizing?”
“Yes. I shouldn’t have just walked away like that. I should have formally ended things. That was very childish of me.” Misha sighs and folds his arms. “I was hurt, but that wasn’t an excuse to behave so rashly.”
Herbert shrugs. “Well, I couldn’t blame you in the slightest. I broke your trust.”
“You did,” Misha acknowledges.
“Are you still upset with me?”
Misha shakes his head. “Haven’t been in years. I missed you, Herbert. Even if we were no longer in love, I still would’ve liked to see you again.”
The truth, the notion that Misha still wanted him around all this time…it does sting. Herbert wants to slap himself silly for getting lost in his own head like that, for completely hiding away from the rest of the world because he somehow assumed he didn't deserve kindness or companionship. And yet right outside, Misha was waiting for him to come back.
The words stumble onto Herbert’s tongue, then fall right off. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He does this two more times before he finally lands on, “It’s addicting.”
“I know,” Misha replies.
“I wish I could quit it.”
“You still can. There is plenty of time.”
“I don’t know if I want to,” Herbert admits. “I know I should, but I just can’t take it off. I might have to live with that regret forever. It feels like such a perfect punishment.”
Misha grunts. “You have been beating yourself up enough. Please don’t use me as another attempt to atone. I have moved on and found peace with my past. It’s time you find a way to do the same. You need it, Herbert. I want that for you.”
“I’m sorry,” Herbert replies. That is way too easy to say. He wants to fall at Misha’s feet and scream those words out a hundred times, even though he knows it’s way too late. And he needs to be okay with that.
“You said you have stepdaughters?” he asks after a few seconds of awkward silence. “I missed the photos earlier. I would like to see them.”
Misha smiles and retrieves his wallet where he seems to store the photos. He just brims with happiness as he shows the ladies off to Herbert, then their husbands, then the pastures they live on, then his and Dell’s own little farm in Texas. It just all flows so naturally; Hebert asks the right questions and laughs at the right stories, and finds that he’s actually enjoying listening to Misha so be passionate.
For a moment, he can almost forget the history between them. For a moment, he almost feels stuck in the past.
Almost.
“Presents!” Jeremy suddenly calls out. “C’mon, guys, it’s present time! The best part of Smissmas!”
Misha motions for Herbert to follow him into the basement, where the tree is set up in all its glory and surrounded by wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes. Tavish has fully leaned into his Santa replacement role and is handing out presents to the kids. One of them turns out to be a cutlass, much to the triplets’ excitement and Jeremy’s exasperation.
But there seems to be something for at least everyone, as all the adults exchange gifts too. Mundy snorts at the “#1 Sniper” mug that Jean has gifted him, and offers a nice tie in exchange. Pyro squeals in delight at the tin of homemade cookies Zhanna and Jane have for them. Jeremy is already trying to slip on the baseball cleats he was given by Dell, with flame decals that have been clearly painstakingly hand-painted down the sides.
“Here, Herbert,” Flo tells him, pressing a small box in his hands. It’s covered in red wrapping paper with an off-white ribbon. “This might be a bit old, but we’ve been saving it for you for years. All of us pitched in a little money to buy it.”
Herbert unwraps the box, drenched in curiosity. Inside is a watch. Nowhere near as expensive as Jean’s, thank goodness because he doesn’t want anyone to drop that much money on him. The style probably went out of popularity at least four years ago. But still a pretty nice model all things told. And he’s been needing a new one for a while now.
“It’s beautiful.” Immediately Herbert goes to strap the watch onto his wrist. “Thank you so much. I don’t even have anything to give back.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Flo laughs. “I mean, if you really feel like insisting, perhaps you could host Smissmas next year!”
Herbert pales a little at the idea. No way his shoddy New York apartment is big enough to fit all these people plus a tree-
“You can help us host,” Misha suggests. “Dell and I would always love an extra hand to help prepare.”
“Okay.” That sounds good to Herbert. It would be nice to have friendly faces surrounding him again. He has so badly missed the company, the sense of belonging, not having to hide away in fear and shame. Now that he understands he was always welcome, he feels so bloody foolish.
But a step forward is still a step forward. Herbert thinks he’ll like helping to host Smissmas next year. He’s got a lot of lost time to make up for.