Once upon a time, forever ago, before all this, he used to tell me stories. On a quiet night, if I couldn't sleep, he'd stay up with me. He told me about Afghanistan, the great desert. He filled my head with words of war and falling planes. He told me about Mitch and Dex, lost friends and final moments in the sun and sand. Sometimes it broke him, and he cried. Those nights I stayed up with him and sometimes we cried together. Back when I cried. Back when I was human. What am I now? All I have to do is look in a mirror, remember the things I've seen and done, the things that were done to me, to know I'm not human. I can't be. But there are times in the night, when the sun sinks low behind these valley walls and the darkness closes in around me in my bed, that I see his face. I remember laughing and crying, remember being that kid, that Aiden, and I could almost go back. But they've replaced me, haven't they? I thought maybe I meant something to him, but I've seen them. He laughs with that walking fist as much as he ever did with me, and I bet he thinks he thinks they care. But they'll get tired of him, too, and the second he really needs them, he'll be left behind. And John will find a new pet.