Blood. Smoke. Fire. Death. Bodies.. so many bodies.. cold.. so cold.. a gunshot.

Curly shot up in bed, his breath coming in short, wheezing gasps that sounded painful. It had been 19 years since he had been put in cryostasis. 5 years since he had been found.

Right now, he lay in bed in his home. His own home. And the arms that gently snaked around his waist to comfort him as he shook belonged to his partner.. his most beloved that still loved him, even through his disfigurement and overwhelming guilt