"Red…"

The low rumble of the voice reverberated down her spine and she snapped her head up. When she met his eyes she felt all of the breath leave her lungs.

"Sam…" she croaked. She scanned him up and down. He was thinner—much thinner. The familiar, haunted sorrow that always clouded his eyes had deepened and the shadows underneath were darker.

He nodded slowly. "Hi," he said, searching her face with a pained expression.

Her pulse rocketed and she felt her neck and cheeks flush fever-hot. All of those nights she had lain in her bunk, worrying about him, wondering if she would ever see him again, wondering if he had gone and done something stupid. All of those nights, cursing his name for abandoning her, for selfishly taking advantage of his freedom and leaving when she needed him more than ever…

And now he was here, he was back, and the relief and anger and joy she felt was overwhelming.

She tilted her chin up at him and narrowed her eyes. "Hi? This is what you have to say to me? You disappear for weeks, at the worst possible time…" She broke off as her voice caught, suddenly and mortifyingly on the edge of tears.

"Red…" He flexed his fingers helplessly then put his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry…I'm just…I want to explain to you. Things were very difficult…"

"Oh, well—" she tossed her head and gave an exaggerated shrug. "That explains everything. 'Things' were difficult!" she spat, throwing up her hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that things were difficult for you. Because around here, little girls were dying in the cafeteria. We had a full fledged war with these shitty, motherfucking CO's. Things were pretty fucking difficult around here too, or maybe you've heard? And now you have the balls to walk in here and…what? Shoot the shit?"

She pushed herself out her chair and stalked toward him until they were just inches apart. "Where have you been?" she whispered. "Where did you go? It was so bad here, so terrible and you just…poof…disappeared into thin air."

She stared up at him and the grief and shame on his face gutted her and she felt her rage slipping away. "We needed you." She closed her eyes, blinking hard against the tears that threatened. "I needed you."

He cleared his throat and shook his head, looking down at the floor as he brushed the hair off of his forehead in that familiar gesture, and she wanted to punch him hard, a quick jab to the jaw that would knock him off balance and bruise for a week. She wanted to spit on his shoes. She wanted to throw her arms around his shoulders and pull him to her and bury her face in his neck and just stay there for a long, long time.

She turned away and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve.

"Can I please see you in my office?" It was barely a whisper.

She shook her head, her back to him.

"Red. Please…Please, Galina."

She whirled back around at the shock of the sad, sweet sound of her given name.

Then she looked into his tortured eyes and knew what she had known all along. Things had been more than "difficult" for him. He hadn't jumped ship—he had come unmoored. She'd seen it in his office on that horrible day, and his vacant blue stare had haunted her ever since. He hadn't abandoned them. He hadn't abandoned her. He'd been lost at sea.

And now he'd found his way back.

She nodded slowly and he closed his eyes and sighed with just the barest hint of the saddest smile.

As she followed him she wondered how many times she would have to learn that even the most shattered heart could still find a new way to break.