Stars have mercy.

Walking back through who knew what kind of shit for two months, wondering each day how much closer you'd come, how much further you had to go, if you could get that little bit further every day? It was impressive, to say the least, inspiring too, and also sad. He wondered if he could have done that, crawled through the muck and the horror... he liked to think he could have. That he would have done it for the person stuck with him. You never leave someone behind, not if you could help it. And you didn't lay down and take it either. You fought until the end, til there was nothing left of you, not ever your ghost.

He would do it for Whiskey. For a lot of people here.

Fingers grasped Whiskey's bicep, feeling the hard muscle there, different from the Leonard he knew, not as hard or defined. Another reminder of how Whiskey was... well, Whiskey. He squeezed gently and dropped his hand.

"What happened after you got back?"

It was the next logical question, right? He could guess some of it from what he already knew, but he wanted to hear it from Whiskey.