Defiance

Chapter Twenty

Skian barracks, after the 399th-294th battle

Someone walked in, but Trickshot barely took notice of them, staring blankly at the wall across from his bunk.

He's dead. No, he can't be. He's gone. They're all gone. It wouldn't stop. He heard himself say it and hated himself for it. He'd made it real. How could he be here? He deserved to die, like the rest of them. Trickshot knew that he had gunned down at least one of his brothers. Tij's death replayed over and over, not stopping. He could feel tears coming again, but he blinked them back. It's over. It's all over. If he looked to the future, then he would have to think about his past. His past hurt too much. It hurt so much that he wasn't even sure if there was a future.

"Hey, Trick." Rush's voice sounded far away, unimportant. He tried to stop remembering, tried to shut it all away, become a different Trickshot. The old him was too fragile to survive in this new reality. That man would need to wait to come alive again, if the time ever came at all.

"Trickshot!" Someone shoved him hard in the chest. He shook himself out of his near-meditative state and found that he was looking at Rush. At the sight of his brother, he defaulted to another version of himself, K-3864, because that was how he handled things last time.

"Trick, you want to go somewhere quiet and talk?"

"Why?"

Rush had taken off his helmet and was now looking hard at him. His blue eyes held concern and pain. Trickshot saw that the sergeant was trying hard for it not to show.

"Take off your helmet. Please? Talk to me."

K-3864 reluctantly lifted it off and set it on his bunk beside him. Rush sat down close on the other side, and took a firm grip of his hand.

"Hey, look at me. It's okay to go a bit nuts after what's happened," he whispered. "But I'm your brother. Do what you want in front of Fallar and the others, but you can be yourself with me. Okay?"

"I'm fine, Rush," Trickshot said. This was the worst he could imagine, the worst possible reality. But he was surviving, and if he could hold himself together at the rock bottom, he could eventually live his life again. No pain he would ever encounter again could be worse than this. "I'm coping."

"Trickshot, I know you well enough that I can see what's happening now."

Even though they only had met three days ago, Rush acted like they had known each other for years. After all, in an army with everyone wearing the same helmet, they became accustomed to little variations and actions.

A little flare of anger woke up in his pool of grief. "What then? What is happening now?" His voice cracked, his eyes brimming with tears. This time, he couldn't control it.

Then, Rush did the unexpected. He hugged him.

Trickshot felt he was in a stranger's body, detached from the world. Just to get through the next second, the next step, the next mission—time after time, until he had come through the ordeal. Trickshot wasn't in any real, physical pain, but it hurt more than he could stand. Until he figured out how to stop it for good, he'd shut down. Slowly, he regained his senses, pushed down anything he thought would hurt him, and focused on Rush's words. Trickshot sank into his arms, needing the support.

"Okay. It's okay. I'm not pushing you."

K-3864 burned to tell Rush that if he tried to get the old Trickshot out, the pain would destroy him. The best thing he could do was to forget, to lock away anything that would hurt him. What he consciously shut out could become a habit, and he wouldn't let anything slip. So it was for the best, a way to cope for the next few days, even minutes, without breaking down. The old Trickshot couldn't survive here, even with his brother Rush supporting him.