"I can escort you to our resident psychiatrist's office and leave you to it? And I'll give you a tentative schedule of when I'd like to train. Evenings are fine, yes?" He can try to reshape this ranger into someone respectable again. Or he'll damn well try. His hopes aren't high that he'll get into a jaeger again, but they will try.

And the training begins. Away from prying eyes, as promised. Each day is a focus on a new style, a broad range, flexing York's comforts and adaptability. Sometimes with weapons--fencing had certainly been interesting--and usually without. Bruises. Also as promised. Sometimes patronizing, but he always tries to be respectful.

"I think we shall focus on your strengths in upcoming sessions," Malcolm declares at the end of one. "Hone in on what you're good at, make you better, see how you're doing about that blind spot when in your element."