Now that I have an internship, you guys are going to have to suffer with me jumping around in timeline all over the place because I am not going to fight with my brain and what it wants to write.

-

Several years earlier

His apartment was in a poor neighborhood in the next county over from Orion, by a drive of five to ten minutes, primarily made up of subsidized housing and low rent apartment buildings. And here Thomas was, out of the system on his second, second chance and had been clean for about six months now, those months being primarily comprised of all the time he spent working through the system and trying to convince the judge that he really was ready to do the court rehab.

The judge had been skeptical, but she had believed in him enough to let him try. That's what last chance was for, people like him.

And it really did feel different this time. The last time he had gone through rehab it was sort of just going through the motions, doing what he had to do until he could get out, where he fell right back into his old patterns with his old friends and his old haunts, but now he was trying something new. He had been forced to stay in the same area because rent was cheap, but there was a really nice charity group that had helped him find a job, and for the first time in a long time his paycheck was going to rent.

Rent on a shabby quadriplex with noisy next door neighbors, but he had done his best to make it a clean, homey space. For the first time in what felt like years, he felt okay putting family pictures up on the walls, where before he had refused because he felt like if they could see him the real people would somehow know and be disappointed. All his furniture was a mismatched collection of whatever he could pick up from yard sales or for free, and there was even a musty old guitar in the corner.

He didn't know how to play, but talking to his counselor last week, she had discussed with him an interesting theory. A lot of the people she knew who felt sad and empty, weather it be due to drugs or depression or whatever else, none of them seemed to have hobbies, at last not any more. She had a theory that hobbies were a great source of intrinsic motivation and self worth, and encouraged him to find something that he liked.

Thomas was sad to find that he didn't have any old hobbies to go back to. He had started his spiral so young that he had never really had time to develop interests. He wasn't really sure he was all that interested in music, but he was going to try.

He was sad a lot these days.

But the counselor said that was normal for someone so long dependent on a high.

A sudden knock came at the door, and he jumped nervously where he sat before leaping to his feet and hurrying over. He paused only once to take a deep breath before opening the door.

Outside, he found three familiar faces.

And one new one.

His mother smiled at him, His father's face was cautiously stern, and his little brother offered him his best version of his goofy kid smile, though it was still somewhat subdued. Looking down he saw the third face, a black and tan German Shepherd with large ears, and wearing a red vest that said:

SERVICE DOG: DO NOT TOUCH

"You made it!" He said, doing his best to sound cheerful, and leaned forward to hug his little brother. The exchange was warm, and Thomas squeezed tight. He owed his little brother his current sobriety because it was him that had inadvertently knocked some sense into him. He noted, with a lump in his throat, that Adam was still wearing the Jacket that Thomas had given him that day.

He let Adam go and hugged his mother and father in turn. Unsure about his father's expression, he stuck out a hand for a handshake, but Jim waved it aside and gave him a hug instead, which was nice, and touching coming from his father, who he hadn't always gotten along with, a fact Thomas was now recognizing as his own fault.

"Come on in." He said stepping aside and holding the door open for them.

Stepping into the room the three of them looked around.

Adam limped in first turning his head to examine Thomas's dingy apartment

Thomas was suddenly very embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I know it isn't much"

"Its good work, Thomas." Jim said, resting a hand on his son's shoulder, and for the first time in a long time he felt a sort of warming in his chest, his father's approval spreading through him like a comforting glow.

Martha beamed, "It's very nice, Thomas.... Are you sure that you want-"

"Yes!" He said, his own insistence surprising all three of them.

Adam hadn't noticed having limped over to examine the framed pictures on the far wall, his new service dog at his side,

"I made up your room for you, down the back hall. You'll know it when you see it." Thomas said

Adam looked up from examining the pictures, and thanked him, before leading the dog back into the hallway.

The three of them waited until his footsteps faded off before Thomas turned to look at his parents, "How is he?"

There was a pause in which he noted the slow nod of his father's head, "He's doing better, Waffles has really been helping, and he's getting used to the new leg. Some days are harder for him than others right now, but it's slowly getting better."

"The limp?"

"Doctor's say its partially psychosomatic. He has phantom limb pain sometimes on his off days."

Thomas glanced back down the hall, "Today and off day?"

There was a sort of quiet nod.

"Look thomas, are you sure you want to do this? Its a lot to take o-"

Again he held up a hand to cut them off, "I want to help, and if Adam says he wants to be out of the house to get back on his feet, then I intend to help him." He wrung his hands together a bit, "Plus, I think it's good for me too."

There was another awkward pause, and he watched his father's jaw working a little bit as he tried to phrase his question, "And.... how are you doing? I, and this is not meant to be meant in a negative way, but you think that this time-"

"I'm going to do it this time." Again all three of them were surprised how adamant his own voice was, even he jumped a little. Together they glanced back at the back hallway, and he lowered his voice again, "It feels different this time, and I-I'm tired of going through the same thing over and over again. I want things to be different." Changing the subject rather obviously he said, "Anything I should know?"

His parents definitely knew he was changing the subject, but they graciously allowed it. Jim passed him a neatly folded piece of paper, "That should have everything you need. Its commands for Waffles, medication schedule and all the appointments he needs to get to. Now you don't have to take him, in fact we are trying to encourage him to get back his independence, so we've given him a bus schedule."

"Can he.... Drive yet?"

Martha made a sort of unsure face, "Not until he gets a hang of the prosthetic, but we've been working on bicycles, so that is always an option. But with the dog, buses are easier."

Thomas nodded again.

"This is nothing we haven't already talked about with him, you understand."

Thomas nodded

Jim reached out a hand and clapped him on the shoulder again, "Thank you, for doing this. We're proud of you, and thankful."

Deep inside his chest that warm glow started up again flushing his cheeks red with some measure of delight. Had his father ever said that before? Maybe once a long time ago before this lifestyle had consumed him and he still played baseball, but that was a pretty long time ago.

"Thanks dad, and don't worry. I'll take care of him."

And he really did mean it. Adam didn't reappear in the next few minutes, and though his parents seemed rather disappointed by the fact, they didn't push it, and stepped out with quiet goodbyes to Thomas, who watched them drive off and down the street. Soon the sound of their car engine faded away, and there was nothing left but the soft humming of a nearby generator.

Someone's dog barked in the distance, and he could hear the shouting of the neighborhood kids in the distance where the park was not a few streets away. He shut the door softly and locked it behind him turning and walking softly into the back hallway. The door to the guest bedroom was cracked open, and he peeked in through the crack to find Adam sitting on the bed arms wrapped around the dog, who's tail beat rhythmically against the bed.

She nosed him every now and again pressing her face up, doing her best to get him to engage.

Thomas felt rather awkward watching, like he was looking in on a private moment, but it was partially interesting to watch. Eventually Adam lifted his head and rubbed her ears. The dog closed her eyes and rumbled deep in her throat, causing the ghost of a smile to appear on Adam's face.

"Adam."

Thomas kept his voice soft, "Adam, May I come in."

"It's your house.:"

"OUr house now, and it's your space." He stayed stubbornly outside the door. Thomas was good at being stubborn, better even than the rest of his brothers, and his sister combined.

Adam sighed, "You can come in."

He judged the door open with his shoulder and walked in to sit on the edge of the bed.

Adam held up the stuffed Marvin the Martian, "You think you're funny."

"I do." For a horrible moment Thomas wondered if he had really screwed up. It had been an alien that had taken Adam's leg, so had he inadvertently causes some kind of PTSD attack or-

But then Adam smiled, "Funny looking ."

"You'll have to get some better jokes." Thomas teased

"Must have left them in my other pants."

The banter went quiet and then trailed off Adam dropped his head a bit.

'You look tired." Thomas said, "You want to take a nap and I'll call you in for dinner?"

Adam shook his head.

"No i... it's best if I don't just sit around..... Things are better when I'm up and moving."

"Okay then." Thomas said, "Get your ass out of bed, and you can help me make dinner. I know your cooking is like a level four hazmat event, but I think we can get something edible going."

That granted him another ghost of a smile, "Okay." He reached up and undid the straps to the dog's vest pulling it off and resting it on the bed.

"You haven't met waffles yet."

Thomas paused, "I, can I pet her?"

"The vest is off so she's not on duty.. Go ahead, she loves attention."

Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand out to the dog. Vest off she seemed a bit less serious, tail sweeping low to the ground as she snuffled at his hand before nosing it and licking him gently.

"Well hello sweet girl." He rubbed her ears and she made a loud moaning noise. He laughed, "IS that how it is?" THe dog grumbled again and he couldn't help the smile that found its way onto his face.

Adam was smiling too.

"She's a really sweet girl."

"And very good at her job." Adam added. Sensing the curiosity exuding from his brother Adam continued, "She can like, sense panic attacks or, or whatever, and all the other anxiety stuff. She's pretty good at stopping it, oh, and she can get me stuff when my leg is off."

Thomas raised a teasing eyebrow at his brother, "Oh I see. Turns out you aren't force sensitive, so you got a dog to retrieve you the remote when you don't want to get off the couch."

"Yeah, I lost a leg just to have a reason to be lazy."

Thomas's face fell, and he was on the first rungs of an apology when Adam grumbled

"I was just joking."

"Oh, sorry."

Adam sighed and shook his head, "Can we.... like .... Not do that."

Thomas frowned, "Do what?"

Adam shrugged and patted Waffle's sides as she licked at her paws, "Walk on eggshells around me. Mom and Dad aren't so bad at it, but everyone else.... They just treat me like a glass sculpture that is going to fall apart at any moment, but..... And maybe they are right, but I've already been broken, so its not a big deal anymore if I break apart. I just want to be treated normally again."

Thomas nodded once, "Okay then, get your gimpy peg legged ass into the kitchen and make me a sandwich."

Adam stared at him.

"Too much?"

A slow smile broke out over his brother's face, "No, I think that will work."