A/N: This was running around in my mind at about 1 am, when I couldn't sleep. I know it's not much, and I am a little bit uncertain about writing for RvB- I am not very confident that I have kept Wash IC, so any crit is always welcome. ^^
This is post-Recon, him in jail, kind of sort out his thoughts.
He couldn't sleep.
That wasn't exactly unusual- Wash hadn't been able to sleep since Epsilon had begun to unravel. Despite the fact that his AI was long gone, the images remained, as much as he wished they didn't.
In this case, though, he was stuck in a cell smaller than a closet, and instead of being able to escape from his thoughts the only thing he could do was pace. Up and down, back and forth, beyond dizzying. It was compulsion- he couldn't stop, otherwise he would lose his own sanity.
Despite his intense concentration the thoughts were creeping up on him again.
Her.
Regrets piled on top of one another, walking a tight line between tumbling to the bottom and clinging on for another minute, hour, day.
Tears running down her face; the way she bit her lower lip as if to plead, though she knew better than to bother.
And he walked away, breaking her heart and his.
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