Bitterness pulsed through Hudson's veins, discontent swelling in his brain, making his head feel like an abnormal extension of his body. As if on cue, his stomach was starting to ache. Dazed and dispirited, he moved through the corridor towards the transportation wing of Gateway Station.

With any luck, there would still be a shuttle departing that evening. He would leave right away if he could.

The idea of finally getting to leave the station, being back within the safety of Earth's atmosphere was the only thing that felt comforting. Once there, he might be able to free himself of thoughts of Vasquez, just as he knew she would be free of him.

He felt regretful that he didn't get to say goodbye to Trudy, or follow through with his work commitment to Ray, but he decided that they would understand. He would contact Ray when he could, tell him that he needed to get away from the station; make a clean break for the sake of his sanity.

But that was not the only thing weighing on him. From the moment he left the apartment, a memory from his past had been trying to ebb its way into his consciousness: the day his older brother John had left, storming out of his father's house after a fight. It now caught hold of his attention, lingering at the forefront of his mind. "I'm done, I'm outta here! I can't deal with this place anymore!"

It had been the last time he had ever seen his brother.

Hudson attempted to shake the memory.

Instead, he thought about his destination and the moment when he would finally be able to plant his feet on solid ground, feel the Texas sun on his skin, a warm wind at his back, view a sky full of stars once again softened by the haze of city lights.

"I'm done, I'm outta here..."

He would rent a car and drive from the air base to Fort Worth where Ian and Kerri would embrace him. Together, they would go back to their house on the quiet street where he could just shut himself away and sleep for a week, trying to forget everything.

"I can't deal with this place anymore…"

The background thoughts were now creeping up, demanding his acknowledgement. As the memory of his brother succeeded in transcending his thoughts, he bristled at the discomfort it caused to revisit, the raw feelings of shame and guilt that accompanied it.

The true story of what had happened that day—the part he didn't want to recall—was that after all the grief of losing their mother, the brutality of living under their father's roof, it had been his own actions that had caused his brother to leave.

Hudson vividly remembered John's face, fresh welts on his cheek and around his eyes—the result of Hudson angering their father. It was during a stretch of time when the old man had been unfairly targeting John more than usual. In an attempt to divert some of the aggression away from his brother, Hudson had been purposely insolent, prepared to take whatever cruelty his father decided to dish out. But his plan backfired.

"What did I tell you, Billy?! What did I say? But you never listen!" John had cried later that night, his voice hushed to keep their father from waking.

"I thought he would go after me, not you!" Hudson lamented, "I was trying to show him that you're the good one!"

"I told you, though! How many times have I told you not to get him angry? And you still did it! I thought we had each other's backs!"

As Hudson stood in the kitchen, staring at his brother's swollen face, a sudden thought came over him. A new strategy began forming in his mind, and as terrible as it was, he knew he needed to do it.

"Why do you even stay here if you're gonna cry about it all the time?" Hudson asked, his voice thick with manufactured malice. "You always talk about having each other's backs, but I don't need you! You're old enough to make it out there, why don't you just go!"

John looked horrified, "What the hell are you talking about?! I'm not leaving you here!"

"I said I don't need you!" Hudson gave a convincing laugh. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're too scared to leave home by yourself! You're too soft, you don't have the balls to do it! Just fucking leave, John!"

The last part of the memory was the hardest. It was something he hadn't thought about in years and he knew it was because he had always been too ashamed to recall it fully. Hudson's pace slowed and his pulse quickened as he remembered pushing his brother in the chest, spouting the worst insults he could think of, then throwing the first punch. There, in the kitchen of the small house, the two of them fought roughly before John eventually broke free.

"Fuck this shit! I'm done, I'm outta here! I can't deal with this place anymore! And you're just as bad. You're on your own, kid!"

And just like that, John had disappeared from his life, their relationship forever severed by a few split-second decisions.

There was a part of Hudson that had been surprised at just how easily John had given up. And while he couldn't fault his brother for accepting any excuse to leave, deep down, he had been hoping John would see through his ruse and realize he didn't really mean the words he had said. Of course Hudson didn't want to lose his brother, of course he was afraid of being left alone in that house.

Hudson thought of Vasquez, stuck in that small apartment, having to finish her recovery by herself, struggling through episodes of phantom pain. He thought about their long history, everything he and Vasquez had been through together, the years of teamwork and friendship.

And now their situation was playing out just as it had with his brother: parting ways without so much as a goodbye. And for what? A few unfavorable actions, some ill-chosen words spoken in the heat of a moment?

He remembered lying in bed with Vasquez the night before her surgery, the two of them entwined, both admitting their fear of what was to come but agreeing to tackle it together. Partners.

"Shit," he said aloud, stopping in his tracks.

.

As he approached the door of unit 1038, Hudson tried to work out what he was going to say. He had left his key in the pocket of his security uniform, and he just assumed that Vasquez would have locked the door to keep him out, but when he tried the handle, the door opened.

"Look, just hear me out—"

He had expected Vasquez to still be furious, poised and ready to continue their fight.

Instead, she was on the floor, her face in her arms, resting on the knee of her good leg. She looked small, her shoulders heaving and her arms shaking. Hudson's heart nearly broke at the sight of it.

When she looked up, she seemed surprised to see him, embarrassed as she turned away, her face hidden.

Every trace of bitterness Hudson still held instantly evaporated. All the words he had planned to say were forgotten. He crossed the room and went to her.

He dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around Vasquez, holding her as she breathed rapidly.

She made a feeble attempt to move away from him, but even with her back towards him, he continued to hold her securely, mumbling words of comfort.

"Shhh. It's okay. Slow breaths, Vaz."

Eventually, she turned towards him, still a bit stiff as he pulled her into his chest, hugging her wordlessly.

He could feel it in her movements: the very moment she gave in to accept his affection. It began with a deep exhale, a low shuddering breath that shook her entire frame. Then her arms inched around him, hands clumsily gripping his shirt until they gained traction, stronger as she pulled him closer, pressing her face into his shoulder. She was trembling, and he cradled her gently, feeling her despair.

Vasquez breathed against him, her words barely audible. "I didn't think you'd come back."

"I'm here now, Vaz. I'm not goin' anywhere."

He kissed the side of her forehead; affirmation that he was there to stay. When she lifted her face slightly, her eyes looked a bit swollen, and he kissed her eyelids and the trails the tears had left on her face. He gently brushed away the droplets that remained on her chin, taking a moment to consider the rarity of those tears, knowing he had caused them.

"I'm sorry, Vasquez. For everything. I'm sorry I went through your messages. I regretted it as soon as I did."

"I shouldn't have said the things I did," she croaked. "I didn't really… I didn't want you to leave."

"I know," replied Hudson. "Think I was halfway to the shuttle by the time I realized that."

"I keep pushing you away. I see myself doing it, and I tell myself to stop, but I still do. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Hudson replied. "It's tough. You've been through so much and this thing between us kinda came outta the blue." He took a deep breath and hugged her close.

Vasquez seemed content in his arms, but he knew that she was probably uncomfortable, sitting a bit awkwardly with her leg on the hard floor. He got to his feet and carefully pulled her up, helping her move to the bed.

She laid down, looking relieved as he climbed onto the bed to join her.

This time when his arms went around her, hers were quick to follow and she squeezed him back tightly and he could feel the emotion in her embrace; affection and longing and relief. They both exhaled in unison. There was something about lying on the bed, holding one another, that felt so calming. He could almost feel the oxytocin being released from his brain, warming his heart.

Her face nuzzled into his neck, and she sighed serenely. "I missed this… I missed you."

Hudson closed his eyes, allowing the sweet words to sink in, realizing how starved he was for even the slightest verbal confirmation of her feelings. Until that moment, he hadn't fully considered the effect that keeping his distance had on her.

"I guess I've been pushing you away lately, too," he admitted. "I just kept warning myself not to get in too deep, because things probably wouldn't end well," he said regretfully. "But fuck, I just can't seem to let you go." He couldn't help but hold her even closer.

He kissed her neck, and she leaned her head back, letting him. His hands felt like they were no longer in his control, they had a mind of their own, winding around Vasquez like a constrictor, gliding up the back of her shirt against the smooth bare skin, causing the fabric to bunch up beneath her breasts.

"We should probably... talk about what happened between us, right?" Hudson mused, still kissing her neck. "Get better at talking things through… so this doesn't happen again."

"Yeah, probably." Vasquez took off her sweatshirt so that she was just in a threadbare black tank top and Hudson kissed the newly exposed skin along her collarbone and down her chest and her eyes shut contentedly as he did.

She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, frantic as she kissed him back.

"I mean... the fact we're agreeing we need to talk more… that's already a good start," Hudson persisted between kisses. "Look at us… discussing things like adults."

"Damn, we're impressive."

"Fuckin' A."

Vasquez was straddling his hips, moving against him seductively. "C'mon, enough talk, Hudson. Give it to me," she said, and he could hear the desire in her voice.

Hudson stared back at her greedily. "I'm so hot for you right now, Vaz, you have no idea… but your leg—I'm so scared I might hurt you."

"It will hurt me a lot more if I can't have you."

As she spoke, her hands moved downward, undoing the button and fly of his jeans to allow one hand to slip down the front. He exhaled as she moved over top of his boxer shorts, rubbing, smiling as she felt how hard he already was. Then her hand weaved under the waistband of his shorts and as she closed her hand around him, he shut his eyes and lost all the breath in his lungs. Unable to help himself, his hips raised up toward her, entranced by the amazing feeling.

When he opened his eyes again, she was moving in closer, pulling down his waistband seductively, and then her hand was replaced with her mouth. Her full lips slid down, her tongue glided, and everything in the world was incredible, warm and wet, and spine-tinglingly awesome.

Then it all stopped, and he looked up, breathless and she was smiling mischievously.

"Oh god, I want you so bad," he said, and his voice was hoarse. "But we have to be careful." Hudson sat up and pulled Vasquez gently towards him, momentarily scooping her off the bed into his arms and then laying her down so that she was the one on her back. She looked a bit surprised by the ease at which he repositioned her, but it seemed to only turn her on more because she gripped the collar of his t-shirt and yanked him down towards her to kiss him passionately. Then his shirt was coming off and she tossed it onto the floor.

Her hands skimmed his back and moved over his abs, down to the jagged purple scar on his stomach. The tips of her fingers traced the scar softly, and her eyes looked up at him, as if checking in to see if it still hurt to the touch. The look she gave him was caring, rife with concern, and she looked so damn cute at that moment that he could barely take it any longer. He leaned down and kissed her urgently, the dog tags around his neck softly clinking against her own; a reminder of their past life that they both still wore.

A wildness seemed to come over Vasquez as she returned the kiss with fervor, her hands leaving his skin so they could pull eagerly at his pants.

They were fully undressed within seconds—apart from one leg of Hudson's jeans which had turned inside-out, caught on a bunched-up sock. He shook his leg frantically until a final aggressive kick sent the wadded-up pants flying across the floor. Vasquez held her stomach as she laughed at him, fully naked and looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. A moment of frustration well worth it for the smile that now lingered on her face.

Her smile remained as he moved on top of her, their skin grazing, his hands nearly shaking with anticipation. It felt like he was losing oxygen with every second they were apart, and it wasn't until that wondrous moment when he held her waist and pushed inside her, that he finally felt like he could breathe again.

Her exhale of relief paralleled his own response, as he sighed at the unbelievable, indescribable feeling of being connected to her once again. He beamed as she took the words right out of his mouth, "Fuck, yeah."

It felt better than any other time before it, super sexually charged and passionate, almost as if they had been starving for one another. But after a moment, she breathed his name and looked at him defiantly, "You're being too gentle with me."

"I'm not, I feel like I'm gonna break you."

She shook her head, her expression one of pure seduction. "I keep fantasizing about the day when we can just roll around on the floor and you can fuck me as hard as I want."

His heart raced at her words, and he felt the temperature of his body growing hotter. He loved how sex-hungry she could get. Whenever she did, it stirred up the same frenzied feelings inside of him.

"Any day now, Vaz," he managed to say. "For now, we're stayin' on the bed… If I have to tie you to the bed frame, I will." He took hold of her wrists and playfully began wrestling them above her head. They tussled that way for a moment, and he knew it was turning her on. She fought back, trying to get out of his grasp and she almost managed to. She was strong and he had to work hard to win, but ultimately he was victorious. Having pinned her arms back down to the pillow above her head definitively, he began thrusting harder inside of her. She bit her lip in delight and urged him to continue.

They were both sweating, and it was as if something primal had been released in both of them. The anticipation of an earth-shattering finish was on the horizon, but the feeling of being inside her was just as electric. He never wanted it to end.

But when she suddenly let out a groan, it sounded wrong. He let go of her arms and eased up a bit.

"Vaz? Good sound or bad sound?" he asked with concern.

Her eyebrows looked pained. "It's fine," she breathed. "Don't stop."

Hudson hated the fact that she was in pain at that moment. He slowed his momentum, moving more carefully, paying attention to the way he sank into her and thrust upward, connecting with her body. After a while, the pained look seemed to disappear from her face, and she began to exhale again in contentment.

"You just tell me what feels good, and I promise I won't stop until you get there," Hudson told her.

"Just like this," Vasquez replied, her voice gasping, her body beginning to quiver in response to his movements.

The change to a slower motion had her breathing quicker, moving exquisitely against him, their faces grazing, caring touches and kisses creating the indescribable feeling of connection that he had only ever dreamed might be possible with her.

Moments later, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clenched a fistful of bed sheets. Her breasts heaved and her body gently shook beneath his. It was impressively drawn out and he watched in appreciation as she tossed her head to the side and a beautiful look of satisfaction swept across her face. He was so in awe of her that he almost forgot it was his turn.

When he quickly followed suit, the pleasure hit like it was on steroids, so heightened that he thought he might momentarily black out as he stifled his moan into the pillow beside her head.

Even when he thought he was done, aftershocks of bliss still came and went as his body lay collapsed on top of hers. She held his weight, her arm wrapped around his back.

"Holy shit, Hudson," she said in amazement.

"I'm fucking dead," he exhaled, his words muffled by the pillow. He turned his head towards her, but he could barely open his eyes. "Sorry, am I hurting you? Just push me off."

"No, you're fine, just relax," said Vasquez tenderly, and he could hear the smile on her face. Her hands caressed his back.

Hudson shivered as the feeling still coursed through his body. "That fuckin' rocked," he said, still breathing hard. His hearing sounded like he was underwater.

"Yeah, champ. I've been dreamin' of that for way too long." Her eyes were closed serenely.

His senses slowly beginning to return to normal, Hudson was about to shift his weight off Vasquez and move beside her, but she held her hands on his back to stop him.

It warmed his heart to feel Vasquez holding on to him, knowing that she wanted to preserve that closeness for just a bit longer. He wound his arms behind her head and neck, fully cradling her and she let out a hum of sleepy contentment.

He kissed her cheek tiredly. "How you feelin'?"

"Better now," she said, her eyes still closed, her voice sounding almost sheepish as she held his body close to hers. "Just wanna lie here with you."

Hudson thought back to the first time they had sex while they were in quarantine, Vasquez quickly gathering their clothes and pushing him out of her room, her voice terse in response to his objections, 'What, did you expect us to cuddle?'

He compared the memory to this moment, and it was almost unbelievable what they had gone through and how far they had come in such a short amount of time.

With all his heart, he hoped that the hardest parts for them were over. Now, all he wanted was for things to stay the same.

.

The synthetic morning light filled the room as Hudson opened his eyes.

At some point during the night, a void had formed between them, so he moved closer, enveloping Vasquez, snuggling up against her back.

She breathed in as she stirred, tired hands taking hold of his arm, cradling it against her chest.

"What happened to wanting space?" came her sleepy voice.

"I tried it and I hated it," he answered, his lips pressed against the warm skin of her back. "Never again, Vaz."

The last thing he wanted to do was peel himself away from Vasquez, but with a glance at the clock, he was reminded of his security shift, which started in less than an hour. "Ah man, I should get going."

Vasquez made a noise of disappointment as she stretched against him. "Yeah, I guess I should get up too, who knows what time Carmen will come by. Probably any minute."

Hudson got up from the bed and dressed in his security uniform. In the bathroom, he brushed his teeth and washed his face without the mirror—which he had swept off the floor the night before. When he came out, Vasquez was on her laptop, staring at it with a frown.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking… I want you to see this."

"What is it?"

Lying in bed the night earlier, he had fessed up to each of the emails of hers he had opened, and she had graciously forgiven him. So, when he took a seat next to her on the bed and saw that she had her message portal open on the screen, he put his hands up defensively, not wanting to repeat a mistake.

"It's fine, I don't want to—"

"Just listen, would ya?" she interjected. "It… made me sad to think you read what I had written to Costa—"

"I'm sorry."

"—Not because you read it, but because of what I had written. I was in a weird place when I wrote that message. At the time, it just seemed easier not to tell you, because I knew if I did, you would try to help. I guess that's also why I kept the truth about Carmen to myself… it just felt so hard talking about how shitty things really were."

"Vaz, you were right when you said you don't owe me any information. There's things in my life I haven't shared with you yet. You have every right to keep things to yourself… including this."

"I know, but I don't want to," she replied. "Just read it."

He did as he was instructed, beginning to scan the message, a bit nervous as he did.

Thurs, Aug 26, 2179, 18:56 - From Sender: 18548970607 - Pvt. , 2nd BN Bravo

Dear Sergeant Costa,

Sorry for the late response to your last message, I went in for surgery and was just released a couple days ago. Had some ups and downs but starting to feel more like myself.

I know my last message was pretty depressing and I'm sorry for that. I've been doing better lately. My squad partner, Private Hudson, ended up staying here and helping me with my recovery. I know I'm not always the easiest person to deal with, so I feel lucky that he's stuck by me through all of this. As much as I'd like to say that I could have done it on my own, I don't know how I could have made it through these last weeks without him.

Thanks again for the heads up. I haven't seen or heard anything yet, so I wonder if she might have given up and gone back.

Hope you're doing well Sarge. Take care.

-Vasquez

Hudson considered the date of the message: their third evening in the apartment together. The day when Vasquez had refused her painkillers and he had gone to Trudy for help. But by that evening, things had vastly improved. He thought back to making dinner that night as Vasquez iced her leg and checked messages on her laptop; their pleasant, conversational dinner that followed; the romantic shower that came after that.

Those moments which felt tragically cheapened in the days that followed, suddenly felt special again as Vasquez's words on the screen somehow reignited their significance.

He kissed her cheek. "Thank you for showing me... I think I needed to see that. But you're wrong about one thing—I know you would have managed just fine here on your own."

"I wish that were true." Vasquez looked a bit bashful, closing her laptop. "Anyway, I'll let you go to work now."

When he was ready to go, he gave her another kiss goodbye and she returned it, along with a warm hug.

"I'll see you later. Good luck with Carmen today. Make sure you eat."

"Hudson?"

"Yeah?"

He stopped and Vasquez stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes wide, her expression hard to read.

"In the hospital when I was out of it, did I actually tell you I loved you?"

"Yeah, you did."

Vasquez tilted her head thoughtfully. "So… what did you say?"

"What d'you mean?"

"When I said that… Did you say it back?"

Hudson gave a little laugh. "No. I knew it wasn't you talking."

She accepted his answer with a nod.

.

When his shift finally ended, it was early in the evening and he walked back briskly, eager to see Vasquez. The eight or so hours that he was away from her seemed to drag on forever and with their recently renewed relationship in its freshly affirmed state, he felt excited to see her and hold her in his arms.

"Hey!" she called to him as he opened the door to the apartment. She was quickly on her crutch, moving towards the door to greet him and he smiled broadly watching her, admiring the bright expression she wore, the way her dark eyes shone as she looked up at him.

"Hey baby," he grinned, pulling her towards him, embracing her, his face in her neck, soaking up the feeling of her, drawing in her scent with an exaggerated inhale. Before he could help himself, he was picking her off her feet, her crutch clattering to the floor, Vasquez emitting a surprised, "Hudson!" and a laugh.

He plopped her onto the bed, and she smiled up at him as he knelt over her, undoing the buttons of his shirt. "Ah, I could just eat you up! How did everything go with Carmen today?"

The smile on her face faded and Hudson could instantly read the disappointment in her expression.

"She never showed," Vasquez replied, sitting up on the bed, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. "I even messaged her a couple times… I don't really know what's going on with her."

"The fuck?" Hudson responded. "What's her deal? She was hellbent on coming here yesterday, nearly broke down the fuckin' door to see you!"

"Yeah," responded Vasquez distantly. "I wonder if she left. Maybe yesterday was my one chance to get to know her again… and I sent her away." She was staring past him, towards the door, as if hoping her sister might knock at that very moment, ready to give her a second chance.

"I'm sure you'll hear from her," Hudson replied with a quick kiss on her forehead. "Hey, um, I actually just remembered I have to go back to the security office for something. I shouldn't be too long."

.

In the small surveillance room of Gateway Station's starboard security wing, Hudson scanned the monitors of real-time footage fed by hundreds of closed-circuit cameras.

"What are we looking for?" asked Ray.

"Don't you ever go home?"

"Not when Andersen is on patrol. Kid's got his head up his ass." Ray looked up at Hudson in annoyance. "You gonna tell me or am I gonna haveta beat it outta ya?"

Hudson smiled. Ray had a bewildering way of being brash and well-meaning at the same time.

"Remember that girl who was causing a scene at the rental office the other day? And showing up at the hospital and stuff? That's who we're looking for."

Ray made a face. "Why? What'd she do now?"

"She's my girlfriend's estranged sister."

"You're messing with me."

"I shit you not, Ray."

Ray stared at him for a moment, gauging whether Hudson was being serious. Then he nodded in acceptance, his ability to detect falsehoods clearly well-attuned after so many years in his line of work. "Okay. Well, you sure you wanna involve yourself in that type of situation?"

"I'm already involved."

"All I'm sayin' is you got a lot on your plate, kid. I mean, you seem in a lot better spirits today compared to the day we met, and that's great, but I just wanna make sure you're not being an idiot an' introducing more stress where it ain't needed."

Hudson uncoupled his eyes from the screen he was watching. He looked at the aging man, short and weathered, laugh lines ever visible around his brown eyes. From the very moment they met, Ray had exhibited his unique, and frankly, baffling tendency to rebuke Hudson while simultaneously providing sound life advice.

He clapped a hand on the man's back. "I hear ya, buddy. And I appreciate that, but this is something I need to do for my… for Jenette."

Ray nodded his head slowly, then his finger gradually raised up to one of the screens. "In that case… there, at the bar."

Hudson looked at the small figure closest to Ray's finger and sure enough, there was Carmen, sitting at the counter of the station's grungiest bar, projected in two dimensions, but just clear enough to distinguish.

"Holy shit. That's her alright."

"C'mon kid. That's textbook shit! Always check the local watering hole!"

You're the man, Ray!" Hudson slapped his boss's hand before darting for the door.