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Sheridan stares up at Brennan, not moving, not breathing.
Finally, he reaches up.
Brennan leans hard into me as he helps Sheridan to his feet. I fumble for my handcuff keys in the bottom of my pocket, and I get them out, get to Sheridan’s side. Unlock the cuffs I placed around him for the second time today, and drop them and the ripped-apart door panel to the cargo deck.
Sheridan is shaking like he’s got no center, no pillars inside him anymore, and he’s going to collapse in seconds. He takes a step, but like Brennan, he falters. He stumbles into me and sinks against my chest. His open mouth presses against my shoulder, tears and snot and a broken moan falling from him.
Brennan lays his hand on Sheridan’s neck. I cradle Sheridan’s cheek, press my lips to his forehead.
We wait for Sheridan to scrape his soul back together.
He steadies his breaths, and his hands uncurl from their white-knuckle clench in the fabric of my shirt. He draws back, and Brennan loops his arm around Sheridan’s waist.
I give Nuñez the nod. “Call it in.”
“All stations,” she radios. “Threat is neutralized. Ranger is secure.”
