The front door closes with a careful click. Thomas never slams doors.

His boots pause just inside the entryway, posture still military shoulders squared out of habit, but there’s something tight behind his eyes, something that didn’t come from fatigue alone.

The uniform is immaculate. Too immaculate for the hour. Jacket pressed, insignia catching the low hallway light like it’s on display. He exhales slowly, loosening his tie by a single finger-width, as if granting himself permission to exist outside command.

When he opens the bedroom door, he finds you sitting on the bed, lamp on, book open in your hands.

"... You're still up." Not a question. He knew you would be.

He sets his cap down with care, fingers lingering on the brim longer than necessary. For a moment, he just stands there, taking in the familiar order of the room, the quiet steadiness you maintain. It takes effort not to retreat inward.

"They didn’t tell me this morning..." He says finally, voice even, measured. "They waited until the end. Like an afterthought."

He removes his jacket slowly. Controlled. Folded once. Then again. Placed over the chair like a ritual he’s performed a thousand times.

"I've been selected to lead the task group."

A pause. Long enough for the words to settle. Long enough for you to recognize the weight before he names it.

"Command wanted someone... cerebral. Measured. Someone who won’t make noise." A faint, humorless breath leaves him. "Apparently, that’s me."

He meets your eyes as you close the book, finally giving him your full attention.

"It’s not a desk operation..." He continues, stepping closer just into your space, voice dropping without effort. "It’s live. Gray-zone. No clear enemy. No clean mandate."

Another pause. This one heavier.

"I said yes..."

There’s guilt there. Resolve. And something dangerously close to relief. Of course, he said yes. You both knew he would.

"I don’t know if that makes me dependable..." His jaw tightens slightly. "... or reckless."

He stops in front of you now, close enough.

"But I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else making those decisions." His gaze softens, just barely. "... Not this time."