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Description
Wash always felt like he was trapped by something, no matter where he went or who he was with he felt like he was restrained. When he had Epsilon he felt trapped from his teammates, knowing their fate and not being able to bring himself to tell them. After Epsilon left he was trapped inside the memories and the fears, trapped in the knowledge that he couldn't trust anyone ever again. And now, stuck with the Red and Blue troopers, he was trapped by his past. Trapped by the fear that he would be hurt all over again, by the memories that kept him awake at night, and held back by honed instincts that kept him emotionally separated from everyone around him. Every time they talked Wash was calculating every word, making sure his tone showed nothing, not the tired, the fear or the pain. They never noticed, and Wash intended to keep it that way.

Then he let himself fall into rem sleep. After years of practice Wash managed to keep himself from the deepest part of sleep that gave him dreams, waking up before it came. But after a long, grueling day of fighting and arguing and pranks, Wash's body was too tired to do so. Memories flooded his dreams, mixing now with the present. Freelancers and Troopers died alike, shattering Wash to pieces. And when the Director came Wash fought him, he threw punch after punch until he finally had him pinned to the ground, both hands latched around his throat tight, cutting off the air and letting Wash watch him die.

"WASH!" Reality snapped back and it wasn't the Director beneath him, instead it was Tucker grabbing at his wrists and sputtering for either sentence or breath. "Let him go!" Wash released Tucker and crawled backwards until he rammed into the wall, watching as Caboose knelt by Tucker, making sure he was all right as he coughed. Wash curled up tight and hide his face behind closed fists that grabbed at his hair and pulled, feeling the pain that told him he was awake. They were going to abandon him because of this, it was going to happen all over again. No, he couldn't go through this again! "Agent Washingtub?" Wash jumped when someone touched his arm and threw his fist out for a punch, but his fist only hit the air as they moved out of the way.Wash screeched when his wrists were grabbed tight, his mind wanting nothing more than to be released of these restraints.

"Wash!" Tucker coughed after shouting and Wash went still, opening his eyes to see that he was the one holding his wrists. The two just looked at each other without saying anything, Wash's heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Wash clenched his fists again and gritted his teeth, eyes welling with tears he was trying to force away.

"I'm sorry," Wash whispered. "I-I didn't..."

"Dude, chill," Tucker spoke.. "You were dreaming, you had no idea what you were doing. Do I look pissed off to you?" Tucker's voice was raspy but he didn't look like he was in very much pain and, as he said, he didn't look the least bit angry. Wash opened his mouth to retort but his voice died when Caboose hugged him tight. Wash froze, staring into the rookie's chest in surprise, wrapping his mind around what was happening.

"It's ok," Caboose told him, patting his head. "We forgive you, Wash, because that's what friends do." Wash felt someone put a hand on his shoulder, probably Tucker, and his mind reeled, taking in Caboose's words. That's what friends do. Wash wasn't quite sure when he had started to cry or when Tucker joined in on the hugging, but he decided that it didn't really matter much anyway. Wash was grateful for this band of idiots that had rescued him from his captivity.

Description
Wash always felt like he was trapped by something, no matter where he went or who he was with he felt like he was restrained. When he had Epsilon he felt trapped from his teammates, knowing their fate and not being able to bring himself to tell them. After Epsilon left he was trapped inside the memories and the fears, trapped in the knowledge that he couldn't trust anyone ever again. And now, stuck with the Red and Blue troopers, he was trapped by his past. Trapped by the fear that he would be hurt all over again, by the memories that kept him awake at night, and held back by honed instincts that kept him emotionally separated from everyone around him. Every time they talked Wash was calculating every word, making sure his tone showed nothing, not the tired, the fear or the pain. They never noticed, and Wash intended to keep it that way.

Then he let himself fall into rem sleep. After years of practice Wash managed to keep himself from the deepest part of sleep that gave him dreams, waking up before it came. But after a long, grueling day of fighting and arguing and pranks, Wash's body was too tired to do so. Memories flooded his dreams, mixing now with the present. Freelancers and Troopers died alike, shattering Wash to pieces. And when the Director came Wash fought him, he threw punch after punch until he finally had him pinned to the ground, both hands latched around his throat tight, cutting off the air and letting Wash watch him die.

"WASH!" Reality snapped back and it wasn't the Director beneath him, instead it was Tucker grabbing at his wrists and sputtering for either sentence or breath. "Let him go!" Wash released Tucker and crawled backwards until he rammed into the wall, watching as Caboose knelt by Tucker, making sure he was all right as he coughed. Wash curled up tight and hide his face behind closed fists that grabbed at his hair and pulled, feeling the pain that told him he was awake. They were going to abandon him because of this, it was going to happen all over again. No, he couldn't go through this again! "Agent Washingtub?" Wash jumped when someone touched his arm and threw his fist out for a punch, but his fist only hit the air as they moved out of the way.Wash screeched when his wrists were grabbed tight, his mind wanting nothing more than to be released of these restraints.

"Wash!" Tucker coughed after shouting and Wash went still, opening his eyes to see that he was the one holding his wrists. The two just looked at each other without saying anything, Wash's heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Wash clenched his fists again and gritted his teeth, eyes welling with tears he was trying to force away.

"I'm sorry," Wash whispered. "I-I didn't..."

"Dude, chill," Tucker spoke.. "You were dreaming, you had no idea what you were doing. Do I look pissed off to you?" Tucker's voice was raspy but he didn't look like he was in very much pain and, as he said, he didn't look the least bit angry. Wash opened his mouth to retort but his voice died when Caboose hugged him tight. Wash froze, staring into the rookie's chest in surprise, wrapping his mind around what was happening.

"It's ok," Caboose told him, patting his head. "We forgive you, Wash, because that's what friends do." Wash felt someone put a hand on his shoulder, probably Tucker, and his mind reeled, taking in Caboose's words. That's what friends do. Wash wasn't quite sure when he had started to cry or when Tucker joined in on the hugging, but he decided that it didn't really matter much anyway. Wash was grateful for this band of idiots that had rescued him from his captivity.