Present Day...

Main POV

I wandered around the base, everyone else was outside doing whatever it was they usually did before I got here. There was so much disused space around here. I could build myself a gym. Course, I didn't have the equipment. Although with the stories I'd been hearing about the longer I stayed here, something else we could use was in infirmary. I'd thought about building one a couple of times now over the past few days. I wandered into a rookie's bedroom that was a little larger than the usual two people bedroom and was filled with a row of three sets of bunk beds. The room next to it was exactly the same. I opened all the other room doors, they were filled with either one or two single beds.

I walked into one with two single beds and pulled them out into the hallway where I'd left my old bed. I shoved them all further down the hall for more space and started rearranging the bedrooms so I could fit as many beds as comfortably possible in the unused rooms. I shoved four single beds into one of the former three bunk rooms and started lining them up like the freelancer ward used to have them. I found an old desk in one of the rooms and shoved it in the back of the room. I shoved in some more furniture, a book case, a table. It was really starting to look like a hospital.

"What are you up to? This looks just like a med-bay," I heard and turned to see Doc. I sighed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "That's the idea."

"How come, I thought you didn't like medical stuff," he said.

"I said I didn't like getting physicals, that doesn't mean I don't want a comfortable place to die when Caboose inevitably sets fire to the base and kills us all," I replied.

"Fair enough," he nodded. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You wanna make this place your own?" I asked. "I imagine you'll the one comforting us while we all die, so you might as well personalise the place a bit."

"Can I hang my motivational posters in here?" he asked and I raised an eyebrow. I rested a hand on my hip.

"I don't see why not," I told him and even through his armour he beamed.

"Sweet! Hang in there kitty!" he said and ran off, presumably to go and get them.

I went through to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready, glad I'd managed to keep the purple demon busy for at least a little while. Wash walked into the mess just as I'd finished, looking a little sweaty and annoyed. I raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head at me, reaching for an MRE instead. He hopped up into the counter beside me and started pouring the food straight into his mouth. I chuckled, sticking a spoon in mine and scooping the food into my mouth.

"What have you been up to?" he asked.

"Rearranging furniture for the sake of it," I shrugged. "What's that purple dude's deal?"

"Ugh, captain thinks he knows best? Don't get me started on him. We have history, I once had to run a mission with him and it was one of the most painful experiences of my life," he told me and I laughed. "He has been hanging around here a lot lately, he normally hangs out at Red base, I think he has a thing with Donut but they always swear they're just best friends."

"I mean, we're best friends and we do a lot of shit that outsiders would read a lot into," I shrugged. "I mean, you've seen me naked. All those times you helped me shower after the capture incident. But if we just told everyone that you'd seen me naked everyone would assume it's for some other reason."

"That's true I guess," he replied. "But I don't pat you on the knee when we sit together on the couch and call you sweetie."

"You never know, the occasion might call for it," I shrugged and he laughed. "Not a single scenario comes to mind.."

I sat in my hospital bed, warm and cozy now every time I got a visitor someone dropped off a new pair of my pyjamas. I had the blanket my abuelita had made me when I was little, before my dad and I had moved to New Alexandria, draped over me. I didn't remember much of her, but I was pretty grateful one of her hobbies was quilting. I looked up and saw Wash headed my way, pyjamas rolled up under his arm and holding something else in his hand. He reached me and put the pjs on the countertop behind my bed and handed me what he'd been carrying. Chocolate. I smiled softly. I'd been kidding that day in the shower but, whenever they got the chance my team brought many offering to appease the psycho freelancer.

"Hey you," he said sitting down beside me. "How you feeling today?"

"A little better, less violent," I shrugged.

"Oh no," he gasped. "You're losing your freelancer powers."

I snorted, then broke out into a full belly shaking laugh. Wash always knew just what to say. I reached up to rub the back of my neck, it was why I wanted to ask him something. He was my best friend for a reason. I could trust him and ask him all the stupid questions. I picked at the guards over my fingertips, protecting my hands until the nails fully grew back.

"Can I ask you something," I said awkwardly, feeling myself go a little pink around the neck and cheeks.

"Yeah," he agreed. "What's up, what do you need?"

"Nothing I just.." I sighed. "It's stupid."

"No it's not," he told me. "You've seen me almost die because Delta told me I could eat inside my helmet."

"Technically you can," I replied.

"Yeah not the mark I had," Wash grumbled. "But regardless, I'm stupid, you're cute. So what's up?"

"You really think so?" I asked and he paused.

"That you're cute?" he said and I nodded. "Of course I do."

"So you don't think I'm really ugly now? With all these scars? The burns, the cuts, the dark circles that won't go away?" I asked. He shook his head. He looked at me for a moment and sighed, pushing himself up from his chair and walking over to the bed. He wrapped his arms tightly around me.

"I love you, you're my best friend. I could never, ever think, for even second, that you were in any way ugly.. or pathetic or deserve anything that hppened to you. Okay? I know you don't like what you see right now, but that's because bad people did bad things, not because of anything you did do or could have done differently. You're beautiful, Dee. Inside and out, no matter what you think," he told me and then pressed a soft gentle kiss to my forehead.

"I love you too," I told him, mumbling into his t-shirt. "That's why I couldn't tell them anything, no matter how hard they tried to get the password out of me. I love you all far to much to let them get any kind of advantage over us."

"You still think there's nothing wrong with me?" I asked, looking over at him. He raised a brow at me.

"Psychologically or..?" he asked and I shoved him.

"After all the torture, you still think I look okay?" I asked. He nodded.

"You're basically an old woman now, and you'll probably start getting greys if you haven't already, but you're still cute," he told me and I laughed. I knew he was going to get me back for the greys I'd pointed out on the side of his face. "What brought this on? You doing okay?"

"I've not spent this much time out of uniform since before I was in the desert," I told him. "Feels weird."

"I forgot what I looked like for a little while," he nodded. "And when I finally took my helmet off I was a lot older."

"I feel bad for you," I smiled. "You're so old now. Nearly thirty two. What must it be like to be that old. I can't even imagine it."

"I'm still young enough to kick your ass, you young whipper snapper. When I was your age, I knew better than to trash talk my elders," he scolded and I laughed.

"You seriously think you can kick my ass?" I teased.

"Yeah, next time you feel like training, you let me know," he goaded. "This old man is gonna knock you on your ass."

"It's a date."

I stayed up that night, going through various rooms in the base, trying to see if there was actually anything I could scavenge to make myself a gym. It seemed so weird there was a base that didn't have any kind of training equipment, but then again, considering this was a former Red and Blue base, maybe it wasn't that weird. I was still raking through cupboards when Tucker found me the next day.

"What are you doing?" Tucker asked from the doorway. "Is this why Caboose woke me up last night because a ghost was wandering the halls making scary noises?"

"I wanna build a gym," I said with a shrug. "How come there's no equipment?"

"There's a set of dumbbells in my room, I borrowed them because no one else was using them," he told me. "I wanted to get more fit after we got more and more visits from various freelancers demanding we go off on missions with them."

"Fair enough," I shrugged. "I suppose I can keep to what I was doing. Having a special dank room just for some old weights is a bit sad anyway. I'm just bored."

"You could always come draw with me and Caboose," he offered and I raised a brow. He chuckled. "Yeah, didn't think so. But you know where we are if you change your mind."

I climbed down off the chair I was standing on to go through the top shelf of a wardrobe and dusted myself off. I checked my laces and started at a jog out of the base. Maybe I could run some laps in the sunshine. While wandering around in the desert had loaded me up with vitamin D, all the years on a space ship did make me miss the sun. I felt the heat beating down on my back as I ran for Red base, turning once I got there and made my way to Blue. Over and over and over again.

"Come on York, where's your demon magic now?" I demanded running harder.

York tossed me over his shoulder and slammed me into the not very soft, blue, training mat on the gym floor. I let out a groan and lay there for a moment. Was I always this bad or was I just really out of shape? I pushed myself up and sat there for a moment, almost ready to give up for the night.

"Come on, Newbs, you fought Tex the very first time we met and held your own against her. Then you knocked over Wash and Wyoming for good measure. What's up with you?" He moved to sit beside me, crossing his legs and reached a hand over to pat my knee lightly.

"Sorry, I'm just distracted," I told him, running a hand through my escaped bangs. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"I know you do, and I'm always here if you wanna talk. You know that, right?" he asked, looking at me with his good eye.

"Yeah I know." I looked down at my lap. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. My lower lip trembled and I took a deep breath. "I just, I don't know this is what I want anymore. I joined up after my dad died so I could be closer to him. When I got booted from UNICOM the Project seemed like my last hope. After everything that's happened now, I'm not sure hope is the word I'd use to describe this place. I thought I was doing something good. Now, I'm not so sure."

"I've felt like that before," he responded after a moment. "A lot actually. After Connie died Carolina told me what she'd been saying to Tex. I began to wonder. When we lost you everyone was heartbroken. You're kind of the unofficial little sister around here. I was so angry when the Director originally wanted to just remote access your suit. Or when he then suggested a simple retrieval of it, to go that far and not take you home with us. And when we found out what they'd been doing to you while we argued about it, only made me even more angry. We could have rescued you earlier, we could have followed you somehow, saved you from all that pain. I know I can't have been the only one to wonder in those times if we were really the good guys. If we were so good, then how could we just leave you with them? How could we let them get away with what happened?"

"It wasn't your fault, you know," I told him, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them tightly. "I know you wanted to come save me. I always knew you'd come, I knew I just had to wait it out. And I know you feel bad for not getting there quicker, for only giving us instructions for one kind of lock, for not reaching North and I quicker. But all of that was out of your control, and I don't blame you."

"I know," he nodded, reaching over to ruffle my hair. "But we've all felt doubt on whether or not we're doing the right thing, especially if you think about what we actually do for a living. We're soldiers, we're said to be the ones who protect our people, our countries and our planets but really, we're just killers. We kill people and we tell ourselves that we're doing the right thing, that the people we fight are bad and we demonise them."

"Are you okay, York?" I asked. He was being so serious, he was usually so laid back. And he was glaring at the floor with so much hatred.

"Yeah I'm okay baby," he told me. "I'm just saying, your doubt right now is perfectly normal. All the stuff you feel, the anger the fear and the hatred, it's all normal. And I understand you completely, I'm here for you through all that. But I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't ask you to let this go. I know that it's hard but you have to remember that all you hold on to can only ever hurt you. You have to learn to let things go. It's how you heal, how you get stronger and how you make yourself whole again. You don't ever let the horrors of your past drag you down and hurt you. You just let them go and swim to the surface."

Swim to the surface, that was a good way to put it. I constantly felt like I was drowning, not treading water. And I was being dragged down, but I didn't know how to free myself. The tears that had been welling up in my eyes and clouding my vision finally broke their damn. Hot, salty tears flooded my cheeks and I let out a whining sob. York put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close. I turned my head to bury it in his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. I clung to him, shaking as I cried. He rubbed my back softly as I let it all out, having learned over the past few months that if I held onto the tears I'd only have a more epic tantrum later. He was right, maybe with the tear I was just going to have to let it all go, instead of holding it tightly to me, worried if I let go, I wouldn't be me anymore. Worried if I let it all go, I'd be left as nothing. I'd be weak.

But I'm not nothing. And I'm not weak either. If I was weak, I wouldn't still be here, after all these years. I slowed down when I got closer to Blue base, jogging instead of running at full pelt. I could feel my lungs burning, like they were on fire. I leaned over my knees, coughing with the pain. My clothes were soaked through with sweat.

I walked into the base after a few moments of regaining myself. I felt a little better, lighter even. Seems like even from beyond the grave York always had my back. Good old therapist York. I smiled and went to the mess to grab a bottle of water. I chugged it down greedily and then poured some over my face and neck, letting it cool my body temperature down. I took it with me, taking the occasional swig as I walked towards the bathroom to take a much needed shower. I paused outside the door after hearing clattering coming from the infirmary I'd just built. I let out a groan. Please don't let it be Caboose trashing the place.

I walked away from the bathroom and headed further down the hall to my project. I twisted the knob, pushing the door open to see Doc in there. I sighed in relief, not Caboose. And Doc was only clattering around because he was unpacking things. I noticed his desk was covered in cute stationary and he had a jar of jelly beans sitting there. I smiled softly. I looked up at him to see him stood in front of the long metal table I'd put in here in case he needed to operate on someone. He had a large cardboard box that he was unloading the contents of onto a metal butchers trolley.

I fought against the hold of the guards holding me steady. One of them was forcing my jaws apart as I fought, teeth gnashing as I tried to bite his fingers off to keep me safe. I screamed out in frustration, unable to break free of their hold. My torturer was standing there, by his silver butchers trolley smirking as he cleaned the blood from his combat knife. I could feel the blood trickling down my skin, catching on what little cloth covering I had. He stalked over like a predator eyeing up his prey. I saw a flash of metal before his hands were in my mouth too, the jaws of his pliers clamping around one of my molars and tugging on it. I let out a scream just in time for him to rip one from it's home in my mouth. I choked on the blood gushing down my throat. The guards let go of my mouth and I threw my head forward, coughing and spluttering as I did. I spit out all I could from my mouth, leaning over my body and trying to let the residual blood drain out of my mouth, so I wouldn't choke to death on it.

I blinked away the memory. It was just Doc. The man in purple looked at me, cocking his head in confusion as I stood in the doorway, struggling to stand upright. He tossed whatever he was holding up and down in his hands and I shivered. Every time I blinked I had to shake myself out of it, it was just Doc. He's not here. It's just Doc.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I'm uh, I'm a little uncomfortable right now," I managed to stutter out.

I tried to yank my hand out of his grasp and he chuckled, his superior sized hands pinning mine to the tabletop. He gripped hard to one of my fingers as I wiggled them away, trying desperately to get my hand away. I screamed, the dried blood around my mouth cracking and falling off in flakes. I let out a sob as he clamped the pliers down on my fingernail and ripped it straight out. I shook in the guard's hold and struggled to keep myself together.

"Why? Is this why you don't like physicals, are you scared or something?" he asked and followed my gaze to the butchers trolley. "Oh, do you have some kind of fear of trolleys?"

"More like the things that go on them," I replied, shaking uncontrollable. At some point I'd dropped the open water bottle I'd been holding.

"I can make this all stop Princess," my torturer said as he held my jaw in his hand. "All you have to do is give me sixteen digits. Just sixteen characters and I promise this will all stop for you."

"No," I sobbed. "I can't."

"Stop being loyal to them, they're not coming," he screamed. "Are you really willing to put yourself through all of this for some company? Just tell me the password."

"No," I cried out. I shook my head. "No, no, no, no.."

"Have it your way," he said and pried my jaws open again, pliers clamping down on another tooth. I screamed out, even though I knew I'd choke on the blood spurts. I did want all this to stop, but I couldn't give up. I just had to hold out a little longer. My friends were coming. They're coming.

A real scream fell from my lips before I could stop it and I pushed myself backward away from the man in purple. I knew it was just Doc, but I couldn't not see my torturer. The man without sleeves. I kept screaming, it was like I was back there. Like I was still there, like I'd never left. My heart was racing, pulse hammering in my ears. I couldn't think about anything else. I needed to get away, I slipped in the puddle of water, landing on the ground. I kicked my legs out in front of me, pushing myself further away from the room, wet shoes squeaking on the polished concrete.

"No!" I cried out. "Please no!" I screamed out. This had to stop. I needed this to stop. I could hear running up the corridor behind me as I screamed and thrashed wildly. I couldn't get out of this one, I couldn't calm myself down, I couldn't think. There was screaming all around me, not just mine. I didn't know what was happening around me, just that I was still in the grasps of the soldiers who hurt me.

Tucker POV

Wash and I were sat in the rec-room nothing but awkward silence between us as we shared a beer, Caboose sitting between us on the floor, continuing to draw. Neither Wash nor I wanted to address the proverbial elephant in the room. Maybe we would, at some point, but not this afternoon. I snapped my head up, I thought I heard.. something. A scream echoed throughout the base and Wash's head snapped up. Another scream I was sure we both heard this time and we were both leaping up off the couch and running full pelt towards the source.

"Caboose, stay here!" I yelled over my shoulder at him.

I tore ass as fast as I could down the corridor towards the base's bedrooms, hot on Wash's heels. The screaming was louder, more frantic sounding. I knew it was Newbie's now. I could see her up ahead crawling backwards across the floor and out of the room she was in the doorway of. Doc was standing in the doorway, trying desperately to calm her down, but I didn't think she could actually hear anyone or anything. She was gripping at her head and rocking as she curled up around her knees.

"Diana!" Wash screamed as he reached her, dropping down to her side.

"What the hell happened?" I demanded, looking between Newbie and the Doc.

"I don't know," he replied frantically. "She said she was uncomfortable but before I could find out why she was screaming!"

"Tucker, get him out of here!" Wash demanded as he sat in front of a screaming Newbie. I knelt in front of her for a moment.

"Newbs, it's okay," I told her as she sobbed.

"Please stop," she sobbed and I knew she wasn't talking to me.

"We're here," I told her.

"Tucker, get him away from her," Wash demanded. "Get away from her."

"If it's so goddamn important, you get rid of him, I wanna help my friend," I yelled at him, turning away from her for a moment.

"You wanna help her so badly do as I've asked," he snapped and I watched her shake for a moment, reaching out to her and she flinched away.

I nodded, I realised, I didn't really know what I was doing. I was out of my depth here. I was good at helping her when she was crying, all I had to do was hold her, but while she wasn't in her own mind I didn't know how to bring her back. Her and Wash went way back, he knew. She needs help, but it's not important who from, just that she gets it. She let out a harrowing sob and I pushed myself up.

"Doc," I told him. "Just go back in there. She'll be okay but you need to step away."

He nodded, agreeing quickly and stumbling back into the makeshift infirmary. I followed him inside and closed the door behind us, leaving Wash to calm down and help Newbie however he could. I could calm down Doc, explain what was happening somehow, I hoped. I wished it was me, there with her, holding her tight and keeping her safe from harm. But, I'd just met her, there wasn't anything I could do. I didn't know what she'd been through, or what would help. I'd just be getting in the way.

"She's obviously got some kind of trauma," Doc said once he'd calmed himself down and the sounds of screams had faded away. "I didn't realise. Of course that was why she was refusing physicals, god Frank, you're so stupid."

"Doc, it's not your fault, you were just trying to do your job. You didn't know," I told him.

"I guess it's hardly surprising, what we've heard about Project Freelancer from Wash," Doc muttered.

"Yeah, up until Wash, I always thought they were the bad guys. They'd always show up, boss us around and send us on some stupid mission," I agreed. "And after what Bentley said it only proved the only one we could trust was Wash, and maybe Carolina if she was in a good mood."

"It's hard to think of them being victims in this as well," Doc said. "But whatever happened to her, she's going to need the support of more than just Wash."

"Yeah the thing is I don't know how," I raised my voice, frustrated. "Wash just fixed himself on his own, we were just there."

"That's, well that's not the case at all. There is a part in overcoming something that's dependant on you wanting to get better, in knowing you have a problem. But it has a lot to do with influences. You just weren't consciously doing anything with Wash, because all his issues were underlying, kept hidden. He was a lot more closed off when we met him. New Hampshire is different, she's more open about her emotions, even when she is keeping things for us, it's because she doesn't want to be emotional. She already wants to change, but she doesn't quite know how. And that's the problem," Doc explained. I wasn't aware he'd studied her this much. But maybe that was just his talent, reading people. Or it was when he'd been lurking around the base these past few days.

"So what do I do?" I demanded.

"You do what you're already doing Tucker," Doc told me. "Come on, stop pretending you're not emotionally intelligent. You've been working on everyone who comes into your life. That's why you've managed to get somewhere with Caboose when everything Donut and I have tried is failing."

"But with Caboose I'm just doing what you're doing. Every day. I just kept trying," I argued.

"Well, do that with her," Doc said and I sighed.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" I asked. He just nodded.

Washington POV

I wanted to confront Tucker about Dee. But, how? She was just my friend, I couldn't call dibs, she might not even feel that way about me. And she wasn't a thing I could call dibs on. She was a person, and if she caught me doing as much she'd beat me up and never talk to me again. I as usual, I didn't realise how I felt until it was too late. When we were kids I realised just before I moved and I thought I would never see her again. When she joined the project I didn't realise until York told North he wasn't going to ask Newbie out after all because she was too head over heels for the idiot in purple. And again after she got out of Ward 2 and un-article twelve-ed. I'd visited her ever day in there, and helped her get back to old self enough to get released. I wondered if that was a mistake.

Her screams echoed in the back of my mind, just as the tortured memories of Epsilon used to when he'd been implanted and I'd spent time in Ward 2. Maybe I was wrong to think her release was a mistake. After all, she visited me ever day until she was sent on the away mission she supposedly died on. I was allowed out for her funeral, I should have believed North, telling me she was alive. My head was just spinning from Epsilon and his memories about Alison and Tex. If I had, maybe we could have found her.

My head snapped up. Those weren't echoes, those were real. Another scream made it's way to us and I leapt up beside Tucker, running as fast as my legs would carry me. I heard him yell something to Caboose, but didn't take much notice. I had one priority. One. I screamed out to her. I slid across the concrete dropping at her side as she rocked herself back and forth. I hadn't seen a panic attack like this since the start. Panic attack, maybe that was wrong. She'd been triggered into a full blown PTSD flashback.

"What the hell happened?" I heard Tucker cry out as I tried to sooth Dee.

"Tucker! Get him out of here!" I yelled, knowing his presence would do her no favours. I needed to reduce the amount of people around her. If I could just get her to see it was the two of us, maybe she'd calm down. New people had to go. Tucker ignored me, kneeling beside us instead. Now he wanted to play the hero?

"Newbs, it's okay," he said.

"Please stop," she sobbed, not talking to either of us.

"We're here," Tucker said, his words falling on deaf ears.

"Tucker, get him away from her," I ordered. "Get away from her."

"If it's so goddamn important, you get rid of him, I wanna help my friend," he yelled back I almost knocked him right out. This wasn't the time to be having this argument. Maybe later I needed to put some protocols in place with the guys to deal with this. I thought it was over, that this wouldn't happen anymore.

"You wanna help her so badly do as I've asked," I said through bared teeth. He looked at her for a moment before pulling back and nodding. Though not before trying to reach out to her and making her shrink back away from him. She could see some of what was going on, even if she was overcome with memories. "It's David."

"Please, just kill me," she begged. "I won't tell you."

"Diana, you're having a flashback," I told her. The counsellor always assured me that letting her know something she was experiencing wasn't real, not anymore, would help. But I didn't have a lot of faith in the man. "I need you to take deeper breaths for me."

"Make it stop," she whimpered. "No more."

"I'm here, Dee, it's me David," I told her. "Please breath, these are memories. It's all over now."

She screamed again, she was covered in tears. Was it better to ride this one out? It had been so long, she wasn't listening to me. Maybe I wasn't able to bring her back anymore. Damn it. I took a deep breath, getting worked up over this wouldn't help her. I exhaled, feeling my heavy breath on my chest as I blew out.

"Where are you right now, what do you see?" I asked her. "Diana, talk to me," I said more firmly.

"The dusty floor, it burns my skin. It's too much, it's all too much. Why can't it just be over. I won't say anything. I promise I won't say anything. I can't. Please stop, just stop," she stuttered out. "NO MORE."

"You're not there," I told her. "That's a memory. You're in Blue Base. You're with me, David. You're having a flashback."

"I can't be back," she muttered. "It's over."

"It is, you're here with me. David. Take a deep breath, it's over," I told her. I slowly moved my hands forward, I'd been trying not to touch her this whole time, trying not to make things worse. I took her hands in mine, holding them gently.

"It's over," she nodded, squeezing my hands. "It's over."

"Take a deep breath," I told her and she breathed in, shaking as she did. "Now out, slowly."

"David," she said, looking at me this time.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Where are you right now?"

"Blue base," she whispered. "In the corridor, with you. I can see the blue light strip a foot off the ground, the polished concrete ceiling, you, the rusty doorknob to Tucker's bedroom, my dropped water bottle."

"And touch?" I asked her, remembering the only useful thing to ever come out of York's mouth. He'd taught her to ground herself by playing this game a real counsellor taught his little sister.

"Your hands," she said, pulling one hand free and placing it on the cold floor. "The concrete, slightly damp from the water," she brought a hand up to move some hair away from her face before holding her collar away from her neck. "my sweaty hair, my shirt."

"What do you hear?" I asked her, watching the rise and fall of her chest slow down. She gripped the one hand she did hold, very tightly. She breathed out heavily, sucking in another breath. Maybe I was doing this too fast. She took more deep breaths, breathing out hard enough I felt it fanning across my face.

"My heartbeat," she told me. "It's hammering in my ears, it's so loud. Louder than the sound of my own screams echoing off the walls of that dank room. Louder than the chuckles of that man when he was ripping out my teeth."

"I know," I told her. "But he's not here anymore. And you are. You're not back there, you're never going back there. You're here with me and that's where you're gonna stay, as long as you want to. We're here."

"I hear you too, the sound of you breathing, trying to calm yourself down as I'm sobbing in front of you," she told me, looking guilty. I frowned. This wasn't about me. "I'm so sorry," she cried out. "I thought this was over, I wish it was over, that I didn't feel like this."

"You can't help the way you feel," I told her. "Sometimes I think all the memories are gone and I'm completely better, not broken anymore. But then I get a smell, a sound, I walk past a familiar place. And suddenly I'm seeing some woman I don't even know's face, begging her to come back. I see all the scenarios of how I let everyone down, but it wasn't really me. I don't think you ever really escape it, you just get better dealing with it. But you don't have to do it alone, I'm here with you."

"I know," she said. "I just wish you didn't have to be."

"Well you should have thought about that before you came up to me that day in the dirt, asking me about Gavin and Michael and why I had a bruise on my knee," I told her. "Because we're stuck with each other, until the end of time."

"You promise?" she asked, new tears falling down her cheeks. I reached up to thumb them away.

"I promise," I told her, nodding softly. She smiled weakly at me, gulping down another breath.

"Duck Tales," she said and I pulled back a bit, shooting her a look.

"What?"

"Duck Tales," she told me. "The TV in the rec-room is playing cartoons, someone turned up the volume and I can hear it, it's so quiet now."

"Caboose probably turned it up," I told her. Great. How was I going to talk him through this one?

"I smell like shit," she told me. "And you still smell like apple body wash."

"I like my apple body wash," I defended and she chuckled.

"Me too," she told me. "It smells like you."

"And taste?" I asked her.

"Is spit a taste?" she asked me. "Because I'm pretty sure I was drooling a little bit."

"It'll do," I shrugged and pushed myself up off the ground. I offered her my other hand and she held it tightly, using both to pull herself up. She wrapped her arms around me, forcing me into a surprise hug and holding onto me like I was the only thing tethering her to the planet. I held her back just as firm, resting chin on her sweaty head, breathing in the scent of her hair. I forgot how terrifying this was, losing her to herself.

"I need to shower," she announced. "I feel gross."

"You can use mine," I told her, walking her to my room, trying not to make the joking comment I would have, had she been fine. Agreeing with her, that she did feel gross. She walked along the extent of the corridor, holding my hand tightly. Once inside I slipped my fingers from hers, going to my dresser to grab her a t-shirt and boxers, hoping the familiar smell might be a comfort to her, letting her know I was always there with her. She stood by the bathroom door, shaking slightly, looking awkward.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"Will you come with me?" she asked. "They might come back.."

"They won't," I told her. She shot me a look and I nodded, following her over to the door and inside the bathroom. I watched her turn on the water, steam rising off the shower floor. I sat down on the closed toilet, trying to collect myself. What did I do now? She pulled off her shirt and pushed down her jeans, the fabric pooling on the floor. Her underwear was next to go and she stepped into the spray. I frowned, her skin was turning an angry red almost instantly. I watched the steam roll out of the shower and across the bathroom, the mirror was already fogged up.

"You're burning yourself," I told her and she ignored me, leaning her head forward into the spray. I pushed myself up and marched across the bathroom. "Dee stop, it's too hot, you'll burn," I demanded, reaching in to adjust the temperature.

"I can still fucking feel them, Wash," she yelled. "Every time I get sweaty I feel like I'm in that damp fucking cell in the middle of nowhere, the humidity beating me down, the no sunlight room. The dirt and dust from the ground, being covered in my own blood. I feel disgusting. Every time I get sweaty I always feel like I'm back there, with their hands on me. I feel like it's his hands in my hair as I'm fucking choking on his cock and I feel like it's his hands on my hips as I'm scrambling to get away from him on the floor, tearing up my own knees."

"I know," I told her. "And you can shower off the sweat, you can use the physical action to make you feel like you're washing off the memory but I won't just stand her and watch you hurt yourself. Find another way, turn the water down, use soap. Don't burn yourself."

"David," she gasped as I reached forward to take her arm and pull her out of the water. Other hand darting into the scalding water to adjust the knobs. North mentioned this once, after a particularly bad day they'd had, he'd found her in the communal locker-room shower, sitting in the scalding spray. He'd been cut up, turned the water off and held her, and that was years after what happened, once they finally got together. I didn't know she still did it.

"Please," I begged her. "Don't do this."

I let go of her arm and she stood there, the now cooler water bouncing off the floor and the wall, her skin and hitting me, soaking through my t-shirt. She stared at me, motionless with the same expression on her face. She didn't know what to do or say, I'd caught her off guard. I stared back at her, I hadn't meant to just grab her like that, I was so worried I just acted. She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around me again and letting out a new sob. Great, I might as well be in the shower. I sighed as I was covered from neck to foot in water.

"I'm sorry," she said after a little while.

"Don't be," I grumbled. "Just try and keep yourself safe, please. I think you might be the reason I've got greys this young."

"Oh I'm definitely the reason you have greys this young," she told me. "But I'll try and find a new way to wash away the feeling."

"That's all I ask," I sighed. She let me go eventually and went back to showering. I slipped out of the room to change, take off my soaking wet shoes. A morning on the roof would dry them out no problem. I ducked back in and she was turning the water off, wrapping herself in a towel and I gave her some privacy to dress. I was sitting on the bed when she finished, padding over to me and perching beside me. She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them.