Dale’s voice cut through the thudding rhythm.“Watch your right hook.You’re dropping your elbow again.”
Ty grunted, but didn’t answer.Oren knew that sound.He’d heard it before in firefights, in freezing cold marches through hostile territory.That was the sound of someone trying to outrun something.
Oren stepped forward as he watched Ty absorb another hard hit.“You trying to hurt yourself on purpose Ty, or just make Dale work for his win?”
Ty didn’t respond immediately, but Oren saw his eyes flick up.Saw the slight hitch in his rhythm.
Dale turned.“Morning.We’re almost done here.”
Oren arched a brow, eyes narrowing as he watched another brutal exchange.“Doesn’t look like almost done to me.Looks like a goddamn meltdown brewing—Ty’s throwing punches like he wants to crack your head open.”
Dale immediately stepped back with a frown.Finally seeing the state their man was in.“Fuck, Ty.”
Ty growled, a feral sound, as he flew at Dale again, his movements jerky and uncoordinated with fatigue, and Dale easily evaded the moves, and stepped around him.Ty whirled to face him again and almost fell.
“Stop, Ty,” Oren said as he stepped closer, but stopped when Dale threw out a hand.
“I’m fine,” Ty said, voice low and tight, breathless.
“You’re not,” Oren countered.“You’re trying to sweat out a ghost, or beat the shit out of it, and you’re gonna fall flat on your face if you don’t slow down.Talk to us.”
Ty wavered slightly on his feet, then leaned over to brace his arms on his knees, breathing hard.“It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Oren said.He moved closer and squatted down beside him.“You think I can’t see it?I know that look, I’ve seen it in my own mirror.You’re close to the edge, Ty.Talk to us before you go over.”
Dale took a step back, giving them space, watching closely now with dawning awareness.Oren didn’t look away from Ty, who finally met his gaze.
“I just...I don’t like not knowing what’s coming at us,” Ty muttered.“That message.Carson.The drones.It’s like we’re being hunted and we don’t know by who.That pisses me off.”
“I get that,” Oren said slowly.“Pisses us all off, but this is something more.You are punishing yourself, and I need to know why.”
Ty sat down hard, arms falling back to hold himself upright.“I feel like I failed.”
Oren dropped to one knee beside him, heart clenching.“Failed what?”he asked softly, though he already knew.
Ty, still breathing hard, turned his gaze up to meet Oren’s.“You.”
Oren’s chest tightened.He nodded once, slowly.“I know you do.But the part of you that sees clearly has to know that’s bullshit.”
Ty gave a short, humorless laugh.“Maybe.But that voice?It’s quieter.Doesn’t carry much weight in here.”He tapped his temple with two fingers.“And it damn sure doesn’t argue loud enough when guilt starts shouting.”
There was a silence that stretched, not awkward but necessary.
“I left you behind,” Ty said finally.“That explosion...I didn’t come back.I couldn’t.Took me days to even get help to you.”
Dale, standing nearby, stilled.Oren could feel the shift in the air.Ty’s pain was mirrored in Dale’s posture, in the guilt etched into every tense line of his body.
Oren reached out, gently cupping Ty’s jaw.“You were unconscious, Ty.Fighting to breathe.To survive.You didn’t leave me—hell, you weren’t even standing.”
Ty rolled his eyes slightly, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little.
“Still feels like I failed,” he murmured.
Oren looked past him to Dale, whose expression had darkened.
“You know Dale feels it, too, right?”Oren said.
Ty turned his head to look at Dale.“No, baby, this isn’t on you.”
