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They actually arrived back at the farm a while ago, in the middle of the night, with no fanfare. Since then, Katara has been soaking in the winter sunshine, running around blissfully, practicing her bending and hugging her friends and brother, and basically just having a wonderful time. Today she's sitting at the edge of the pond, feeding Spots and grinning enormously at everyone who comes near. Life is great! Especially when you haven't had it for ages!

Steph is still working in Smallville at the bar, and has been catching up on missed shifts for the past couple of days; this is the first afternoon she's had off since they got back, and she's down at the training area making good use of her workout time. At the moment, just bending and stretching and general maintaining-of-absurd-Battish-flexibility. Any suggestions that she is avoiding Babs, using physical activity to avoid thinking, will be ... avoided via physical activity.

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"Well, it was ..." She waves a hand, hopping to her feet and stretching one last time. "It wasn't great, but I guess work never is, you know. How's stuff been at the farm?"

Oliver, who hadn't heard anything about there being work on this vacation, blinks in surprise, but figures she probably meant some form of monster on the way there or back.

"Miss Belmont had her baby - a son, Ralph Trevor Belmont," he says, quietly beaming. "A good, strong lad, by all indications, and they're both thriving.

"We have a spaceship now, and a machine called a Gundam out by the bunker." They're both very obvious, so Oliver doesn't bother to point them out. "A few more latrines were built. I'm looking into new techniques for the fields in the spring."

All that relatively minor news was Oliver gathering his courage for....

"And," his expression grows graver, "we lost one of our residents. Gabriel Grey -- ah, the older one. It's believed he went outside of Kansas and ran into some form of trouble."

Steph, who had grinned enormously at the baby news, stops doing so at the last.

"Gabriel's hurt?"

D:

"And nobody can find him? Have you asked Babs?"

It's not a word he's trained to say, certainly not to a woman, but suddenly finding a polite way to say it is too much effort.

He shakes his head. "Dead."

"Oh no." Steph's face falls, partly for the news and partly because of the way Oliver looks. "I'm sorry. Do we know how?"

Again, a small, weary shake of the head. "I did not wish to pry."

"He was - Gabriel was Steve's boyfriend, wasn't he?" Steph asks, although it's not really a question - anyone who'd seen the two of them together knew that. "Oh no. How is he holding up?"

Gabriel was Steve's boyfriend? News to Oliver, who's used to strong, platonic male friendships.

His eyebrows rise for an instant. "Uhm, perhaps. They were...very close."

It takes him a moment to reorient himself. "I've not seen him much," Oliver says, with a hint of apology. He feels he should be doing more - for all that he understands the urge to solitude in a time of grief.

Steph nods, frowning a little. (She doesn't really - she understands the urge to go and hit things and shout a lot, though!)

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't barge in," she realises. "Worried about him, though. Sokka and he are friends." Not great friends, because her boyfriend is a giant loser with attachment issues, but probably as good friends as Sokka ever let himself be with anyone. It worries Steph, that, too.

"How did he - how did he find out? We lost someone, too - on the trip. Mel found her sister's car."

Oliver, by virtue of already looking grave and delivering bad news, can't look much more somber.

He can look surprised, dismayed, then somber, however, at the news of Mel's sister. He touches the white flame tattoo of on his forehead.

"How horrible," he murmurs. Then, distractedly: "I'm afraid I didn't ask for details. Valerie Bell would know more-- her sister." A small, sad shake of his head. "It was a car accident?"

It's the best Oliver can guess on what little information he has.

Steph hesitates, and shakes her head. A car accident would be such an easy story. Comfortable. But not true.

"We ran into some - some cannibals. Outside Metropolis, a few hours north."

Oliver, looking horrified, sucks in a breath. "God in Heaven," he murmurs, touching the white flame tattoo on his forehead.

He remembers Godsworn bodies nearly fleshless - foxskins and crowskins in particular enjoy desecrating the corpses of their ancient foes by consuming them....He shakes his head. This is not about him.

He looks at Steph with compassion. "If you wish to speak more of this, I will listen, but do not force yourself if events are still too raw."

Sure, she's been relatively fine speaking up until now. But she's still a woman, and a young one, and thus Oliver will do what he can to keep her from speaking further of such upsetting things.

For once, she doesn't get angry at being 'protected' - maybe she's getting used to it, or maybe just can appreciate that he isn't deliberately being offensive. Either way, she just gives him a slightly twisted smile. "I never knew her, but Mel is pretty upset."

Oliver nods, distracted and thoughtful. It takes him a moment to focus on Steph once more.

"We might pray together, if you wish it," he offers quietly, fighting off the inner voice that tells him he's no longer Godsworn, he can offer nothing. "For Mel, for yourself.

"It's surprising, sometimes, what helps."

Steph blinks once or twice, and then wrinkles her nose slightly. "Uh, thank you for the thought, Oliver, but ... I'm not really the praying kind."

Oh, for the good old days back in Fremmanland where people were socially obligated to pretend to be religious. So much easier on Oliver's ego.

Fortunately, he's learned some control over his face over the years and appears to let her remark pass him by. "As you will, miss Brown."

Steph shrugs apologetically. "Sorry. I just - I think we're in control of our own lives, you know? No God would fuck someone over like - like some of us have been. Not if he was real."

Tact, Stephanie does not have it. Not when she's got a lot on her mind, anyway.

"Oh, no need to apologize," Oliver says, and he means it. "This is not an easy world in which to find faith, much less keep it." It's an admission that's not without some pain, but it's even more foolish to deny it.

"God gave us all free will; we can control our lives - and sometimes that is the worst thing we could do. In following Him, we reap a great reward."

Oliver looks around at the farm that's become his home. "Though, if that reward were easy to see - well. Everyone would follow His path. Faith would be irrelevant. Free will also."

"As for why horrible things can happen to good, decent people...." Oliver breathes in deeply. Yeah, this is one of the tricky ones. "God's grace can be found in this world. God's justice, as well. And...sometimes it cannot. God's true judgment does not happen in this life."

Make it a speech. Intellectualize it. That's the way to win the converts!

Steph sighs, rubbing her temple. "Hey, what do you think about killing people?" she asks, out of almost nowhere.

He's a priesty-type guy. And he seems smart. Maybe he can help!

That came out of left field. Oliver blinks a few times.

"Of course, one of the Ten Commandments is 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'. I'm not sure what the Bible says about capital punishment or self-defense - I've not had time to study it." What Oliver thinks is much less important than what the Bible says.

Carefully: "May I ask what brought on the question?"

"I know what the Bible says." Steph wrinkles her nose. "It just doesn't help."

She hesitates, and shrugs. "... it's just ... been on my mind a bit."

A lot.

"How does it not help?" Oliver asks, genuinely curious.

"Well, I don't think I believe in God." Thoughtful explainy Steph is thoughtful and explainy. "So doing stuff just because He tells me to is - I dunno, it doesn't make sense to me. I want to be a good person, I just don't think that has t'be tied up with being a churchy person."

But good people don't kill people. Right?

Except ... maybe they do.

"One can certainly be a good person without being a...churchy person," Oliver says. It just won't get you into heaven. Sucks to be you, good people!

"The way is harder, though, without the community of others on the same path, following the same basic laws. So I found it."

Find it.

Steph frowns, pulling a strand of hair free of one braid and fiddling with it. "I believe Sokka is a good person," she says, and for all her uncertainty about everything else, that rebounds with confidence. "I just ... I dunno. It took me ages to figure stuff out in the first place, and then I came here and ... everything I know is wrong."