No, Tucker had missed all that. He missed what Wash had done, the depths of darkness he had walked, and saw him after. Saw him when he betrayed them. Saw them when he tried to become something other than a Freelancer. Honorary Sim Troop, maybe? At least, that's how Tucker liked to see it.

Nah. Honorary Blue. Drama, much like batteries, are totally included.

"Yeah, but I'll make it have a laser face because that'd be fucking better. Who the hell wants a boring Church statue when...laser face?" He laughed a little under his breath, watching Wash take another drink. How much catching up did the Freelancer have to do? Could Wash ever get as drunk as Tucker was right now?

"Wash." He leaned back enough to look at him, his brown eyes glassy but still retaining some coherence, something that was so innately Tucker. His bottle clinked off of Wash's, a silent cheers. "Do you ever, like, fucking regret doing Recovery?" Not just Freelancer, but Recovery. How fucking bullshit that must have been. How...fucking just painful.

Did Wash still feel pain?

Well, he was drinking.

"How'd you deal with that?"