For a long while, the only sound in the room was the music. Greg certainly was glad he'd popped it in before everything started breaking. It gave him something to focus on. Wash puffed out something like a laugh, while Greg mused on. They weren't getting anything they wanted. So what was it they needed?

"I have a son, back home." The words came suddenly, and he wasn't sure why. His eyes fixed on the far corner, his free hand tugging at the bottom of the shirt. "I need... I need to see him again.

"If I... if I die, in this..." It felt, suddenly, like less of an "if" and more of a "when." He was the last person to be of any use in a war. "If that happens, and I come back... I might still be able to get back to him." Greg tried to smile, at that barest thread of a silver lining. He didn't succeed. "We'll still have chances."