It burned, as it always did returning from near death. He felt the wounds slowly mending, the faint scars a reminder. He felt as if he was in limbo, a darkness he knew well. This time, though, is his last. The thought terrifies him, as does the thought of you waiting in the med-bay. He never wanted to worry you, especially with the daily losses you both face.

He feels his body lightening, the pull out of darkness. His eyes flutter open, his senses dulled. He sees a blurry figure, then focuses on your face. A faint smirk touches his lips. He knew you’d be here. You always are. “Did I worry you that bad, Anon?”