[Wash did ask a lot. It wasn't just the laps and the obstacle courses; it was the acceptance of him in the beginning, it was forgiveness for what happened to Simmons and Donut and Alpha, it was letting someone else lead them other than Church, it was his quirks and his drama and his need to make Tucker into something better than he was, fulfill a potential he had seen there but Tucker hadn't. It was pushing them outside of their comfort zones. It was making them grow.

This might be the biggest thing he's asked from Tucker. It sure as hell was the hardest thing to give him.

But Wash protected him from Carolina once when she pulled a gun on him; he owed him, trusted him. He fucking hoped like hell Wash would do it again if he had to.

Tucker sighed, shoulders fall, and the fight was edging away, draining down as he looked at the Freelancer. At his friend. Wash had won, if this was an argument, which it wasn't, not really. It was just a lot of bullshit that needed to be said, explained, worked over so maybe he could actually sleep at night instead of waiting until Maine was out before he passed out in the tent. Cohabitation. Something.]

All right. I mean, I'm not saying that I'm going to be scrapbooking pictures of us together or some shit, but I won't actively try to trip him down stairs, okay? [Which was pretty much about as good as it could get for now; there was so much he needed to work out on his own, so many things he needed to see with his eyes; Wash could talk until he was blue in the face but nothing was as solidifying as watching it unfold himself.

Tucker frowned a little, arms crossing over his chest.] Look, are you okay?

[Because Wash had asked him, but it was just as important to ask it back. Especially with all this being laid at their feet.]