On a bench in the small park on the first basement level of the Hive, Shane had already finished three cans of beer.
As he opened the fourth can, a figure sat down beside him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Shane turned his head and saw a face covered in wrinkles.
Dale, the old man who arrived in an RV.
He felt like he had seen him a few times in the base, yet also felt like he had never seen him at all.
This person was like air—present, but no one noticed him.
"Whatever," Shane said, taking another swig.
Dale didn't speak; he just sat quietly, looking up at the unchanging blue sky of the artificial ceiling.
After a long silence, he finally spoke: "This sky, it looks pretty real, doesn't it?"
Shane ignored him.
Dale didn't mind and continued to himself: "When I was young, I liked camping. I'd lie on the grass at night and look at the stars. Back then, I thought there were so many stars, countless ones. Later, as I got older and my eyesight got worse, the stars seemed to fade."
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket—the hand-rolled kind—and the smell of cheap tobacco drifted through the air.
"You know? I once had a daughter who went out on her own a long time ago. I never saw her again, and I miss her very much."
He took a drag and slowly exhaled: "Sometimes I wonder how she's doing, if she's married, if she has kids. But what's the use of thinking about that? She doesn't want to see me, and I can't find her. It's that simple."
Shane's hand paused.
Dale continued: "In this life, some things aren't the way you want them to be. You think you're right, but others might not see it that way. You think things should be one way, but they turn out another. What can you do? Cry? Make a scene? Get into a fight?"
Dale shook his head: "It's useless."
"What are you trying to say?" Shane's voice was a bit hoarse.
"Nothing," Dale said, standing up and brushing the dust off his pants. "Just felt that drinking alone is boring. Drinking with someone else at least gives you someone to talk to."
He glanced at Shane. There was no pity or preachiness in his eyes, only the calm unique to an old man.
"If you want someone to drink with, I'm free anytime. I'm just an old man, and I've got plenty of time."
Then he left.
No prying, no persuasion, no long-winded lectures.
Just like when he arrived, he came quietly and left quietly.
Shane watched his retreating figure, crushing the beer can in his hand.
He tilted his head back, downed the beer in one gulp, and tossed the empty can into the trash bin nearby.
He stood up, brushed the dust off his pants, and headed toward the living quarters.
In the third-floor office, Wu Fan watched Shane's retreating figure on the surveillance screen and turned off the monitor.
That old man Dale certainly didn't disappoint him.
Not everyone needs to hear big life lessons. Some people just need a presence that doesn't judge, doesn't pry, and doesn't pressure them—someone to sit quietly beside them and let them know they aren't alone.
That was enough.
He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed an extension.
"Amy, starting tomorrow, have Dale take charge of mental health care for everyone in the community. Get him an office."
"Huh? What kind of mental care?"
"Just chatting with people," Wu Fan said. "He's good at that."
Damn, you want to freeload in his shelter? I have to squeeze every bit of value out of you.
In the end, Dale couldn't escape being exploited by Wu Fan.
Of course, after entering the first basement level of the Hive, he had fallen in love with the environment there. When Amy approached him to arrange the job, he was willing to clock in at a counseling room in the Hive's basement community hospital.
He also moved into a small villa with a yard on the first basement level, coming home after work to clear land and grow vegetables.
A few days later, he went to talk to Shane again.
A slightly agitated Shane walked with Dale into a nearby grove, talking as they went.
"Shane, you're worried about Lori, aren't you?"
Upon hearing this, Shane's pupils dilated, and his hands gripped his belt tightly.
Over these days, Dale had learned about what was bothering Shane. Lori's pregnancy wasn't a secret, and soon all the friends at the mining site knew. Besides, he had also chatted with Gail about Lori's pregnancy at the community hospital.
Lori didn't really want this baby.
Dale roughly understood why she didn't want it.
"I know." Dale nodded. "During the days when Rick wasn't around, you were the one carrying the load. Lori relied on you, and Carl saw you as a father. Anyone would have treated this as their own home."
Shane froze. No one had ever so bluntly acknowledged his contributions instead of immediately accusing him of overstepping.
"I didn't do anything wrong," he defended in a low voice.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Dale said firmly. "What's wrong is this world, making you think that to protect the people you care about, you have to hold on tight and never let go."
The old man paused, his voice softening: "Shane, you're good to Lori not because you want to steal another man's wife, but because you are kind-hearted and loyal. You can't bear to see a mother and child in distress in the apocalypse."
"But have you ever thought that in her heart, Lori was always waiting for Rick? Her drawing close to you was out of fear and helplessness, not because she truly wanted to forget Rick completely. Now that Rick has long since returned, her legal husband is not dead. She is still a wife with a husband, not a widow with a child. The tighter you hold on now, the more painful it is for her, and the more painful it is for you."
Shane's Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't refute it.
Dale continued gently: "Looking after them before was protection. But if you turn that protection into possession, then you aren't saving them; you're dragging them into a dilemma."
Dale stopped and looked at Shane: "Lori will feel guilty, Carl will be confused, and you yourself will be suffocated by jealousy. You are a good man; you shouldn't trap yourself in this futile obsession."
Shane turned his face away, his voice a bit hoarse: "Then what do I do? Just like that... back away?"
"It's not backing away; it's finding your proper place." Dale looked at him, his eyes sincere and gentle.
"You are still their protector, still Carl's uncle, and still the best fighter in this organization. You don't have to be Lori's man to protect them. What you are letting go of is that jealousy and possessiveness, not your responsibility. Rick is not like that scum Ed who abused Carol; he is a good man, a good father. You and he are brothers, comrades-in-arms, protecting this whole family together."
Shane's defenses gradually crumbled.
Dale continued: "This is how you should be—upright and honorable, with nothing to hide, not trapped by your own thoughts."
Shane was silent for a long time, looking at the woods in the distance of the camp. As the wind blew, his tense shoulders slowly relaxed.
"I just... feared they would be wronged."
"I know." Dale gently patted his arm. "But true strength isn't about binding people to your side; it's about giving them peace of mind and finding peace within yourself. Letting Lori go isn't about doing a favor for others; it's about letting yourself go."
Shane let out a long breath, as if he had exhaled everything that had been blocking his heart for so long.
He didn't speak again, just gave a slight nod. At that moment, the raging fire of possessiveness in his heart was gently extinguished for the first time.
He would still protect Lori and Carl. But from now on, he would no longer be the man who wanted to possess them, but a protector standing by their side, open and at ease.
~~~~~~
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