Translation—

Okay, that last one is kind of true.

But I know Warner wasn’t trying to do anyone around here a favor. He doesn’t give a shit about being a hero.

He was only trying to save J’s life.

“You should talk to him,” Castle says, and I startle so badly he jumps back, freaking out for a second, too.

“Sorry, sir,” I say, trying to slow my heart rate. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s quite all right,” Castle says. He’s smiling, but his eyes are sad. Exhausted. “How are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected,” I say. “How’s Sam?”

“As well as can be expected,” he says. “Nouria is struggling, of course, but Sam should be able to make a full recovery. The girls say it was mostly a flesh wound. Her skull was fractured, but they’re confident they can get it nearly back to the way it was.” He sighs. “They’ll be all right, both of them. In time.”

I study him for a moment, suddenly seeing him like I’ve never seen him before:

Old.

Castle’s dreads are untied, hanging loose about his face, and something about the break from his usual style—locs tied neatly at the base of his neck—makes me notice things I’d never seen before. New gray hairs. New creases around his eyes, his forehead. It takes him a little longer to stand up straight like he used to. He seems worn out. Looking like he’s been kicked down one too many times.

Kind of like the rest of us.

“I hate that this is the thing that seems to have conquered the distance between us,” he says after a stretch of silence. “But now Nouria and I—both resistance leaders—have each suffered great losses. The whole thing has been hard for her, just as it was for me. She needs more time to recover.”

I take a sharp breath.

Even the mention of that dark time inspires an ache in my heart. I don’t allow myself to dwell for too long on the husk of a person Castle became after we lost Omega Point. If I do, the feelings overwhelm me so completely I pivot straight to anger. I know he was hurting. I know there was so much else going on. I know it was hard for everyone. But for me, losing Castle like that—however temporarily—was worse than losing everyone else. I needed him, and it felt like he’d abandoned me.

“I don’t know,” I say, clearing my throat. “It’s not really the same thing, is it? What we lost— I mean, we lost literally everything in the bombing. Not only our people and our home, but years of research. Priceless equipment. Personal treasures.” I hesitate, try to be delicate. “Nouria and Sam only lost half of their people, and their base is still standing. This loss isn’t nearly as great.”

Castle turns, surprised. “It’s not as if it’s a competition.”

“I know that,” I say. “It’s just th—”

“And I wouldn’t want my daughter to know the kind of grief we’ve experienced. You have no idea the depth of what she’s already suffered in her young life. She certainly doesn’t need to experience more pain to be deserving of your compassion.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I’m only trying to point out th—”

“Have you seen James yet?”

I gape at him, my mouth still shaped around an unspoken word. Castle just changed the subject so quickly it nearly gave me whiplash. This isn’t like him. This isn’t like us.

Castle and I never used to have trouble talking. We never avoided hard topics and sensitive conversations. But things have felt off for a little while now, if I’m being honest. Maybe ever since I realized Castle had been lying to me, all these years, about J. Maybe I’ve been a little less respectful lately. Crossed lines. Maybe all this tension is coming from me— maybe I’m the one pushing him away without realizing it.

I don’t know.

I want to fix whatever is happening between us, but right now, I’m just too wrung out. Between J and Warner and James and unconscious Nazeera— My head is in such a weird place I’m not sure I have the bandwidth for much else.

So I let it go.

“No, I haven’t seen James,” I say, trying to sound upbeat. “Still waiting on that green light.” Last I checked, James was in the medical tent with Sonya and Sara. James has his own healing abilities, so he should be fine, physically—I know that—but he’s been through so much lately. The girls wanted to make sure he was fully rested and fed and hydrated before he had any visitors.

Castle nods.

“Warner is gone,” he says after a moment, a non sequitur if there ever was one.

“What? No I just saw him. He—” I cut myself off as I glance up, expecting to find the familiar sight of him lying on his cot like a carcass. But Castle’s right. He’s gone.

I whip my head around, scanning the room for his retreating figure. I get nothing.

“I still think you should talk to him,” Castle says, returning to his opening statement.

I bristle.

“You’re the adult,” I point out. “You’re the one who wanted him to take refuge among us. You’re the one who believed he could change. Maybe you should be the one to talk to him.”

“That’s not what he needs, and you know it.” Castle sighs. Glances across the room. “Why is everyone so afraid of him? Why are you so afraid of him?”

“Me?” My eyes widen. “I’m not afraid of him. Or, I mean, whatever, I’m not the only one afraid of him. Though let’s be real,” I mutter, “anyone with two brain cells to rub together should be afraid of him.”

Castle raises an eyebrow.

“Except for you, of course,” I add hastily. “What reason would you have to be afraid of Warner? He’s such a nice guy. Loves children. Big talker. Oh, and bonus: He no longer murders people professionally. No, now murdering people is just a fulfilling hobby.”

Castle sighs, visibly annoyed.

I crack a smile. “Sir, all I’m saying is that we don’t really know him, right? When Juliette was around—”

“Ella. Her name is Ella.”

“Uh-huh. When she was around, Warner was tolerable. Barely. But now she’s not around, and he’s acting just like the guy I remember when I enlisted, the guy he was when he was working for his dad and running Sector 45. What reason does he have to be loyal or kind to the rest of us?”

Castle opens his mouth to respond, but just then arrives my salvation: lunch.

A smiling volunteer comes by, handing out simple salads in bowls of foil. I take the proffered food and plastic silverware with an overenthusiastic thanks, and promptly rip the lid off the container.

“Warner has been dealt a punishing blow,” Castle says. “He needs us now more than ever.”

I glance up at Castle. Shove a forkful of salad in my mouth. I chew slowly, still deciding how to respond, when I’m distracted by movement in the distance.

I look up.

Brendan and Winston and Ian and Lily are in the corner gathered around a small, makeshift table, all of them holding tinfoil lunch bowls. They’re waving us over.

I gesture with a forkful of salad. Speak with my mouth full. “You want to join us?”