I woke up in a fairly odd position the next morning. Frankly, I didn't even know the human spine could twist in such a way-I was half on my back and half on my stomach. Drool was on my face and pillow. As I tried to get up, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my lower back, and it took awhile for me to slowly turn my body back the way it's supposed to be.

Glancing at the clock, I silently cussed as I realized Hicks was supposed to be coming around and banging on our doors. Then I remembered what happened yesterday. Hicks was supposedly going to be feeling better today, but God only knows if that's going to happen.

Something popped back into place in my spine, but there was still pain pulsating throughout the lower half of my torso. I grunted as I forced myself out of bed, and tried to get dressed. I must've been tossing and turning and finally relaxed mid-toss to get in an awkward position like that.

Everyone had kinda took their time with getting up and getting dressed. As I went out into the hallway, I saw the others were still hiking up their shorts and tucking their shirts in. Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Hudson standing outside his door, lazily tucking in his T-shirt and yawning.

"Nice to see everyone up and at 'em on their own accord," Apone said, strolling down the hall. "Get on down to the mess hall. Move it, people!"

We sat down at the table to see . . . God, not again . . . whole-wheat waffles, runny sugar-free syrup, no butter, and pathetic little pieces of turkey bacon. And a tin of powdered eggs. Lovely.

I was half-expecting Hudson to start arguing, but he remained silent and ate. A moment later, Hicks joined us. I could tell he was still pissed over yesterday, but I just hoped it wasn't enough to completely fuck over his day, or worse, send him into a mental tailspin. That's the last thing he needs.

The whole mealtime was uncomfortably silent. When everyone was done, I watched Hudson go back to his room, and then Wierzbowski and I followed. "Did you talk to him last night?" I asked.

"Yeah, actually. He just wants to be alone, that's all," Wierzbowski replied.

"Well . . . I guess we should invite him to come with us on the pontoon trip." I knocked on Hudson's door.

"What do you want, man?" Hudson moaned.

"It's just Drake and Wierzbowski," I sighed. "Can we talk to you?"

"Fine." Hudson opened his door, and closed it when we were in.

Wierzbowski gestured to me. "Drake and I, yesterday, were talking about-"

"Going out to the bay to just relax," I finished. "Do you want to come?"

"Is it just gonna be us, man?"

"Just us, you mean . . . the three of us and Casey, or-"

"Yeah. I don't need Miranda seeing me like this."

I glanced at Wierzbowski. "Why not?"

"I dunno."

"You want a 'just guys' trip?"

Hudson nodded.

"OK. Nothing wrong with that."

"I'll go get passes from Apone," Wierzbowski said.

As he left the room, I looked at Hudson, who was sitting on the bed. He looked like he didn't get a lot of sleep last night. "Wierzbowski told me he talked to you," I said.

"Look, man, don't . . . don't ever assume that I'm gonna get mad at you because you're concerned about me. I'll be honest . . . I was concerned, too."

"How come?"

Hudson glanced around, nervously, and took a breath. "After we cleaned the gym, I just . . . I spent a lot of time alone, and I probably shouldn't have. I really shoulda gone to you and talked, because you understand better than anyone how it feels. This wasn't a childish argument with me and Hicks. I . . . y-you know, I basically punched him in the stomach when I said what I said. I pretty much told him he was responsible for two people killing themselves. I've said stupid things before, but this took the cake. I shouldn't have said that. A-And then everyone was telling me how wrong I was for the rest of the day, and . . . I started feeling like I shouldn't have put such high importance on meeting Miranda's parents, and then I started feeling like if I do that, I'll really fuck up in front of them and maybe I should just go back to being alone." He sniffed. "And then it got worse. I started thinking, 'How many mistakes do I have to make before I realize I'm not . . . ever going to stop?'"

I put my arm around him, rubbing his shoulder.

"I admitted to Wierzbowski that I felt . . . awful, and I told him that I was aware of how terrifying everything running through my head was. I even said the reason why I feel . . . like I still got a grip on myself is . . . well, you, Drake. You've stared these thoughts in the face and spit on 'em. You've been beaten down a lot more than I have, and you still get back up. There's no reason why I can't push on, man."

Well, that sunk in pretty deep. I patted Hudson's shoulder, forcing myself to smile. I saved his life. I may not think I get back up, but he thinks so. Wierzbowski thinks so.

I really should take it as a sign that I'm not as bad as I think I am.

I was a bit surprised Apone easily let us all go. He didn't seem angry at Hudson for yesterday, especially when he saw the look on his face. He signed our passes and told us to be back before curfew, and to have fun.

As promised, it was just the three of us and Casey, who of course asked if this was going to be boring. I said on the Metro, "To you, maybe, but we all need to relax for a few hours, and you can't be outta my sight, sport. Plus, I thought this would make up for the amusement park."

"Drake, I don't even know what a pontoon is," Casey replied.

"It's like a flat boat," Wierzbowski said.

"Does it go fast?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. It's for sitting and relaxing. It's not a speedboat."

"You guys must be old if that's your idea of fun."

"I did hurt my back this morning," I laughed. "Must be getting old."

"And I had gas last night, man," Hudson added.

"Anyone within a five-mile radius of your bedroom knew that," Wierzbowski muttered.

"We all get gas with the food they serve us," I said. "Really hurts sometimes."

Hudson smirked. "If you push your belly in the right spot, you-"

"That's enough," Wierzbowski interrupted. "Please. You can go on and on with nasty stuff like that, can't you, Hudson?"

"What else is there to talk about, man?"

When we got to the docks, we had to wait a good half-hour for the guys to get our rental prepped. If we wanted, we could also rent coolers to store food and drinks. However, there was no guarantee the coolers were fresh.

Wierzbowski opened one, and immediately gagged. "Is that . . . a dead fish?"

I looked over his shoulder. "That's a dead fish, bud. And a pair of skivvies."

"Oh, God!" Wierzbowski slammed shut the cooler, moving on to another one.

"We coulda fried that fish up and made some sandwiches, man," Hudson said.

"That fish could be disgusting. You want to get sick? Dietrich will just be berating you the whole time she treats you."

Hudson looked to make sure Casey was out of earshot. "Dietrich's a bitch sometimes, man."

Wierzbowski gave him a dirty look. "Dietrich works her behind off for us. The least you could do is show her a little appreciation."

A goofy grin spread across Hudson's face. "Aw, 'Ski, I didn't know you liked Dietrich, man!"

"I don't 'like' her-"

"Then why're you standing up for her, man?"

"Because she's a teammate, and I stand up for my teammates."

"Good for you." Hudson's voice trailed off a little, and his smile faded. I could tell he was thinking about how he said Hicks didn't stand up for his teammates. "Good for you, man."

After grabbing some food and drinks (some alcoholic and some not), we could head out to our pontoon. Unlike the cooler, the boat was actually cleaned up for us, with no traces of possibly sloppy previous renters on it.

"Just sit, do nothing, let our brains decompress and not think about the crap our other friends are doing back on base." I sat down, giving a contented sigh.

"Ain't 'crap' a cuss word?" Casey asked.

"Nah. It's not as bad as the four-letter-S-variant of it." I looked at Hudson and Wierzbowski. "Alright, who's got some juicy gossip to share?"

"Do we look like little old ladies sitting down for afternoon tea?" Wierzbowski asked.

"Well, we're not exactly doing anything, are we, man?" Hudson replied. "May as well be little old ladies sitting down for-" He pulled a beer can out of the cooler, "Coors Lite, man."

"I thought I got the regular, not the lite," I groaned. "Darn it."

"You two better eat before you start drinking," Wierzbowski said.

"Relax, big fella, we're eating, we're drinking." Hudson dumped a handful of almonds in his mouth.

Wierzbowski rolled his eyes when Hudson wasn't looking. "Alright, it's not gossip, but it's something. I saw Spunkmeyer and Ferro in the pool yesterday afternoon-"

"Were they naked?"

Wierzbowski swatted Hudson's shoulder. "No. They were in their bathing suits, like normal people. They were standing really close near the shallow end, talking quietly, and, well, I caught them kissing."

"Aww, how sweet, man," Hudson said, rubbing his shoulder. "Hope they're happy together."

"Are you kidding me? I'm surprised they weren't dating a long time ago."

"I think everyone would be surprised," I said. "Also, Spunkmeyer got a kiss before you, and you've been dating Eliza for, what, a month?"

"Maybe I'm choosing not to tell you perverts whether I got a kiss or not."

"We're your best friends! You can tell us."

"Yeah, man," Hudson chirped.

"Alright, alright." Wierzbowski leaned in. "Remember that night Eliza told we were heading out to a farm? The place was pretty much abandoned, so we pretty much had free run of it. You were right, Hudson, she is the type that wanted our first kiss to be under a full moon."

"I called it, man!"

"Yeah . . . we kissed on that date. We save that kind of kissing for when we're alone." Wierzbowski looked a little embarrassed.

"Hey, this was a big deal for you, right?" I said.

He nodded.

"We're proud of you."

Wierzbowski didn't offer much of a response. I think he was regretting telling us that.

Time seemed to pass slowly, and no one minded-well, maybe except Casey. He was bored, but eventually he settled down and slept next to me for the rest of the trip.

No one really said anything for awhile. I could tell everyone had retreated into their heads-I mean, this was the perfect place to do so.

Wierzbowski was staring out at the water. Hudson was staring down at the floor. I had my arm around Casey and was staring slightly upward at the canopy shielding us from the sun. We were all lost in our minds.

I've told myself before that I shouldn't be going this far into my head. Doctor Ranelli has told me that sometimes I need to go deep inside my mind in order to get a better understanding of what's going on. As I continued to stare, and let my thoughts go, I suddenly felt like I was falling into pitch-blackness. Not the gentle, floating fall I experienced when I was having surgery; it was a speedy fall downward, toward nothingness.

The last time I had this feeling was when I was poisoned on the lab next to Gateway.

I looked around, trying to find light of some kind. None. None, whatsoever. I felt something tightening around my ribcage, and I tried to scream. Nothing was coming out. I was still falling through absolute darkness. Someone help me! Please!

Wierzbowski's voice broke the horrifying silence. "Easy, don't spook him."

"Is he OK, man?" Hudson asked.

I opened my eyes to see Wierzbowski standing in front of me, and Hudson was holding a still-sleeping Casey. I wasn't sure what to do first, so I put my head in my hands, letting out a sob.

Wierzbowski gripped my shoulders. "You're alright, Drake. Take a deep breath."

Hudson pulled a water bottle out of the cooler. "Flashback?" he whispered.

"Seems like it. He wasn't responding to anything I said for a few minutes, and he wasn't asleep. Did you see his eyes?"

"Geez, man." Hudson looked at Wierzbowski. "Should we just go home?"

"Probably should. I'm sorry."

I honestly felt like I had ruined everyone's day by having that flashback, even though it was Hudson's idea to come back to base. As much as I've been told not to feel bad about stuff like this, I still felt awful, and it was hard for me to let go and move on.

I had thought Casey was asleep for the whole duration of my episode, but I found out he wasn't. He came in my room that night and climbed on the bed to hug me. "I saw," he whispered.

"Saw what, sport?" I asked.

"What happened on the boat. You were twitching and you kinda looked like you couldn't breathe. Like you were having a bad dream, but your eyes were still open."

"It basically was a bad dream, except I was awake," I said. "That's what a flashback is. It's a bad dream while you're awake."

"Are you OK, now?"

I nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

I paused, hoping I worded my question correctly. "What do you see me and the rest of the squad here as?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Like . . . are we substitute older brothers and sisters?"

"Kinda. You're definitely like a big brother, and you're also a grown-up best friend."

I gave a bit of a sad smile. "Yeah, I don't think your parents will let you stay in contact with me."

"I don't think they will, either."

"Why's that?"

"Same reason I couldn't find you a while back-Ma said you're busy and got no time. Is that what you thought?"

"Not . . . exactly. I think they'd think I'm a bad influence."

"You? Not like you done anything wrong. Besides, it's not like I'm gonna talk about everything you told me, like your head problems. That can be a secret."

I smirked. "So, you won't tell them about what I did at the amusement park?"

"Nope."

"You won't tell them how some of us have cussed in front of you?"

"How do I explain all the money in the swear jar, then?"

"Tell them we pooled it for your future."

"I ain't going to college, though. I'm joining the Marines."

"OK. You're gonna need to buy a house and a car and all that when you get out. It's a start for your savings."

Casey grinned. "That's genius, Drake."

"Thanks."

During breakfast the next morning, Bishop walked into the mess hall, and opened his mouth to say something when Hudson interrupted, "Bishop, can you tell the cooks I'm sick and tired of whole-wheat? It's dryer than a fucking cow pie in late August, and it's making my bowels sluggish."

"Five bucks in the swear jar, buddy," Hicks sighed, not looking up from his tray.

"Dammit."

"Ten bucks in the swear jar, buddy."

Hudson's face turned red as he resisted the urge to curse again.

"I'll tell them you're filing a complaint, Hudson," Bishop replied. "Anyway, I've got some good news regarding Casey; the investigator started working on his case last night, and got a lead. Casey, do you have family in Mississippi?"

"Yeah, Ma's sister lives there," Casey said.

"The military contacted them this morning, and they're working on getting them tickets here to D.C. to get you. They should be here tomorrow at the latest."

My chest started to hurt. I'm not ready for him to go.

"Thanks, Bishop," Apone said.

"That's probably the best news we've gotten all week," Hicks added. He looked at Casey. "You excited?"

I was surprised to see Casey looking up at me. He actually appeared torn. "What about Drake?" he asked.

"What about him?" Hicks replied.

"Is he gonna be OK?"

Hicks and Apone exchanged a look, and then Hicks glanced at us with a smile. "Yeah, Drake's gonna be OK. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Casey looked back at the table.

I could hear hushed "awws" around the table. Ferro mouthed, "He loves you, Drake."

I spent the rest of the day trying to mentally prepare myself for Casey leaving. I kept telling myself that I just had to let go, that he wasn't my kid, and that we were probably never going to see each other again. Sometime after one in the afternoon, Hicks approached me, and gestured for me to follow him to the courtyard. Part of me was tempted to ask if he was feeling better in regards to what happened a couple days ago, but I knew bringing it up was probably a bad idea.

"Everything OK?" Hicks asked.

I swallowed past a lump in my throat. "I don't know."

"Not ready for Casey to leave?"

I shook my head. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. I know it's wrong and he's not mine and-"

"It's OK to be upset, Drake. Don't try to shut those feelings off. If you're gonna miss him, miss him. I think taking care of him did something good for you. You shouldn't be ashamed of this at all."

"Explain your logic, Hicks."

"Do you feel more confident than you did before we took Casey in?"

"Yeah, but-"

"That's my logic. You needed this. You needed to feel everything you've felt while being Casey's guardian."

"How am I gonna let go, now?"

"Be patient. He hasn't left yet, so . . . try to enjoy these last few hours with him, OK?"

Question: How do you think Hudson has effected the way Drake thinks about himself?