The sauna door clicked.Heat rolled out, bringing steam and the bite of eucalyptus.Hogan stepped through it like he’d walked out of a cloud—hair plastered back, sweat tracking his ribs, towel low on his hips.He had the face he wore when he thought no one was looking—the jaw clamped tight, lines grooved between his brows.Not swagger.Wear.
Dale grabbed a towel and a bottle of water and met him halfway across the gym floor.
“Hydrate,” Dale said, shoving the bottle into his hand.
Hogan huffed a laugh and took it.“Yes, Dad.”He drank hard, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, and failed to hide the wince that followed.
“You sleeping okay?”Dale asked.
“Barely.”Hogan’s gaze slid past him to the pool through the glass wall.The lights were low, water black as a bruise.“Head’s been ...loud.”
“Headaches?”
“Yeah.”He rubbed his temple with a thumb.“Spikes.Like someone’s driving a nail in and then walking away.”
Dale angled him toward the bench.Hogan resisted for a second, then sat.
“Since the fight here at the Ridge?”Dale kept his voice even.Questions, not orders.
“Since before that, if I’m honest,” Hogan said.“They come and go.Nights are the worst.”He rolled the bottle between his palms.“Memory’s jumpy around that time as you know, but nothing that I can pinpoint, just ...flashes.”
“Could be that concussion you had from Chechnya, lingering.”Dale let that sit.“Talk to Blake.”
Hogan’s mouth tugged.“Blake’ll ground me.I need to be able to fly.”
“Maybe he’ll fix you first.”Dale met his eyes.“We need you fixed more than we need you pretending.”
Hogan looked away.The pool lights rippled cold across his skin.For a long beat, they listened to the fan and the slow tick of cooling metal.
“Drones are pissing me off,” Hogan said finally.“You think it’s Kavaci?”
“Feels like it.”Dale stretched his shoulders until something clicked.“Commercial frames.Whoever’s flying them isn’t guessing.Mapping rhythms, probing fence lines.Someone’s building a picture.”
Hogan nodded then pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes.“I keep thinking I’m missing something important.It’s there one minute, and then it’s gone.”
Dale sat beside him, close enough to be chosen, not forced.“You can talk to me.”
“I know.”
“I mean it,” Dale said.“Whatever it is, whenever.If you need anything, I’ll be your ace in the hole.”
Hogan flinched.Not big.Enough.
Dale stayed at the line of departure—the invisible start line you don’t cross until the op goes live.You wait there, breathe there, think there.“What?”
“Nothing.”Hogan shook his head and tried for a smile that didn’t land.“It’s a good line.”
“It wasn’t a line.”
Another beat.Hogan’s shoulders dropped a fraction.“Thanks.”His voice had a rough note in it.“I don’t deserve the way you show up for people.”
“Not how that works.”Dale nudged his knee.“Go easy on yourself.”
Hogan’s laugh was thin.“Yeah, sure, like that’s something that comes easy for guys like us.”He stood, the towel hitching.“Pool’s calling.”
“Go see Blake after,” Dale said.
“Fine.I’ll message him.”Hogan lifted the bottle in a vague salute.“And I’ll actually go see him in person later on today.Promise.”
