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This wasn't happening.

This wasn't happening.

He'd only wanted a little time. Tuck knew what he was doing, even when he was stepping into the pod in penance for acting out. He knew what he was doing.

He had been escaping. He had been running.

Just like he had always ******** done.

School got to be too much? Run.

Duty got to be too much? Responsibility to his brothers? Run.

Emotions? Run. Relationships? Run.

Run run run run run.

The air felt too think to breathe. It was Evan. It was Stormy. It was Heidi. Dead. Dead, and he'd been too busy thinking about himself, saving himself, dealing with himself to save them.

"Yes," Tuck said, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I am. I am feelin' better."

The ties were cut, and he was left holding the scissors. He'd let them down. Again.

But what was new?

And why was there this sudden surge of relief?!

He hesitates.

No.

He lives a life of solitude, nose to the grindstone. He works. He trains. He hones his body into a living shield, a wall to protect those who need it. He sleeps alone. He eats alone. He does not speak unless he is spoken to. He follows orders like a good soldier does. Sacrifices are made easily. Things are simple. Things are as they should be. He does not deserve nice things.

Yes.

He lives a life of happiness for as long as it lasts. He loves. He loses. He trains with those he cares about, and protects them with his very last breath. He sleeps wrapped up and tangled with soft skin. He laughs. He follows orders like a good soldier does - but he will not sacrifice the ones he's come to love in order to serve the greater good. He has paid enough for his sins. He has been a coward in the past, but now there is only the future.

"What happens if they keep on sleepin'? An' what happens if they wake up?"

He's made a decision. He wants to make sure it's the right choice.

He's already been selfish enough in his short life, but he wants to be a little more selfish. He wants them to wake up, because as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he needs them. He needs Evan. He needs Stormy. And he needs Heidi, too, in different ways - but he doesn't deserve them. He doesn't deserve their friendship, and he doesn't deserve their loyalty - but he's brought it on himself, and Theodore knows it.

He wants to be a little more selfish.

"Do you think they gonna forgive me if I wake 'em up?"

Maybe he can make them understand. Maybe, through words and deeds, he can show them how much they mean to him. Maybe then it won't hurt so bad when he fails them again.

Maybe it won't.

He needs them, but he doesn't deserve them.

But he needs them.

He chews on the inside of his lip. He tastes blood. He doesn't question this. She's gentle and reassuring and even if she has too many teeth she's got a smile that he can trust.

They'll forgive him. They'll forgive him until they can't, and then it'll be too late. But they'll forgive him after, after, because the dead are quite forgiving, you know.

Maybe that means they've all forgiven him.

But maybe they haven't.

He needs them. He needs them more than they know. He needs their absolution. He needs. He needs.

But he doesn't deserve them. They deserve better. They deserve someone stronger. They deserve someone who won't make the same mistakes over and over and over and over.

But dreams can still be dangerous.

But they'll be safer.

But he needs them.

But he doesn't deserve them.

"I wanna..."

He swallows, and it feels like a knot of razor wire is caught in his throat.

"I wanna wake 'em up. I want 'em to wake up."

Because he's weak. He's selfish. He needs them, maybe a little too much.

He wakes up JJ first. There's a scar around the man's neck, but his head is where it belongs. He says nothing, but stands in silence.

Dollface is next. He's more distant than the others, more accusatory. There is no hug.

His boys were a given. He isn't sure why. Maybe it would have been best to let them sleep - but deep down he has to know that he's forgiven.

He sits on the floor. Left, right, center.

Left. Heidi.

Right. Stormy.

Center. Evan.

Evan's a Marine. He knows. He knows. He's given up the civilian life, just like the others.

He reaches out and taps the side of the Sun's boot. Evan rouses. Socks him in the shoulder. Rises to his feet. Stands with the others, but at a distance.