#whumpingtheirregulars

Finn hadn’t been conscious for the first week back in England. Hadn’t been given the chance to try. 

As soon as they’d been allowed, the Daniels had set up a vigil by his bedside, Jess joining them as much as she could with Amelia. Sure, he was stable, but he wasn’t trying to do anything himself. Wasn’t showing any real signs of life, save for the occasional panicked glance around the room. 

Fred had been sitting with him when he finally tries, Finn panicking and starting to fight the tube. It’s unwelcome and he can’t breathe past it as he attempts to reach and pull it out himself. His arms aren’t under his control anymore, and they don’t move. Aware that someone is trying to talk to him, that someone has their hand on his shoulder, he forces his eyes open.

Dad.

Finn begs him to take it out, to help him instead of standing there, but he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t seem panicked, either, and it takes a second for Finn to realise that he isn’t dying. Not this time.

Nurses finally arrive, quickly paging the anaesthetist and attempting to calm Finn down. He doesn’t listen to them, searching for his dad with his hand outstretched. Relief floods through him as his dad grabs it, squeezing it tight, and he shuts his eyes again. He could do this. He just needed to breathe.

Finn watches them a little longer, trying to push the fear down and pretend that things were fine. He wasn’t sure of where he was or what was actually going on, but his dad wouldn’t hurt him, and he had to trust he wouldn’t let anyone else.

 With another gag, Finn makes his mind up. He reaches for the plastic in his mouth and pulls before anyone can stop him. 

His throat burns and he retches again, but he still can’t breathe. He fights the nurses as they hold him down, trying to put something on his face. He doesn’t want it, doesn’t want any of it. He just wants to be home.

“Daniels? Shit, Daniels. It is you! How you doing Major?” Finn freezes, his glass half raised to his lips. “It’s been forever. How’s the girl?”

“Harrison.” He breathes, letting out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

“Hey, man. It’s been a while.”

“A while?” Harrison scoffs as he pulls Finn into a half hug. “You disappeared on us Major.”

“Its- uh - its Finn. Not Major anymore.”

“Sure, okay.  How’s the kid?”

“Amelia’s good, nearly four now.”

“Shit, really? God, I remember when she was born.”

“Yeah,” Finn can't help the proud smile spreading across his face. “Best news you guys had on base for a week.”

They lapse into comfortable silence,

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, Finn?” Sam appears beside Finn, Alex in tow as usual.

“Carlos Harrison, used to be part of  Daniels’ squadron.” He stuck his hand out for Sam to shake,

“Wait-” Sam looked between the pair. “You two fought together?”

“We did until Daniels up and outed on us.”

“I told you, Amelia-”

“He's always been like this. Keeps himself to himself, full of secrets. Bet he hasn't told you jack about serving.” Harrison grinned, leaning toward Sam

“It’s not our place to ask.”  Alex mutters from behind Sam as he refused to meet Harrison’s eye

“You ever hear when he saved all our asses?

“‘It wasn’t like that.” Finn whispered.

“It was. Daniels was a godsend.”

“I didn’t -” He was cut off again.

Saved my life more times than I care to admit.” Harrison waved off Finn’s comment. “The whole unit owe him our lives.”

Finn gave in, and checked out of the conversation as Harrison kept talking.

Charlie's nudge dragged him back to the present. He manages a weak smile in response and attempts to pay attention; laugh at this anecdote, smile at another. In. Out. Breathe.

“Has Daniels ever told you about the time he saved half our unit?”

“Finn doesn't like talking about it.” Alex speaks up, wringing his hands.

“Aw, come on, Major! Where's the fun in that?”  

“Harrison.”

“No, Charlie. It's fine.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Finn had spent enough time in a psychologist’s office to recognise the feeling spreading in his bones. Shit.

“-9 of us and it went off probably one of the worst-”

There are 7 drips of condensation down his glass.

“-Daniels wasn't meant to be with us but Arthur-”

12 glasses on the bar.

“-I nearly lost my arm-”

Music is playing.

“‘Dragged us away-”

27 bottles.

“-2 days-”

“-Nearly died himself-”

He can't breathe

Even with his eyes forced closed, there's too much blood.

Can't breathe

3 dead. He can't save them.

Can't breathe.

Can't breathe.

“Finn? Tom just messaged. He needs us to go pick him up.” Finn doesn't (can’t) focus on Charlie.  How can he focus on him when there's four dead under his hands?

“Right. Come on, we got to go. Sam, Alex you okay getting a ride off Liam? Good. Bye.”

Finn lets himself be led out by the hand on his shoulder. That  bleed is not going to stop. He needs to move on.

The cold air shocks Finn, causing his step to falter. Charlie plays it off as he turns to wave at the guys left. Sam and Alex are still hanging onto Harrison's every word.

“You okay?” The silence is an answer in itself. “You're gonna be fine. We'll just get you to the car, then home, and then we can deal with it. Okay?”

Finn stumbles again as someone shuts their car door, hand shooting to the wall to steady himself. They can’t attack again.

“Finn, you're okay. Just a car. It's not far to the car, and then home?” Charlie is no longer sure if he's repeating it to comfort himself or Finn.

Another car pulls up, the passengers slamming the doors shut in quick succession. Finn drops to his knees with a groan, hand rubbing against his chest. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“Shit. Finn? Finn. It's okay. You're okay.”

He continues to slide away until his back hits the wall before dragging his knees up to his chest. Charlie crouches in front of him, keeping his hand on Finn's arm.

“Finn? Come on mate. You're alright.” He doesn't have the energy to look at Charlie, instead turning his hand over in front of his face before dropping his head between his knees with a low groan. It’s all his fault, and now half his team are dead and-

“You can't sit here, Finn.  We can do this at the base, but we need to get you home. And to do that, we need to get up.”

It takes too long for the medevac to come. They lose another guy overnight. The remaining team try to help, but they’re injured too. It’s Finn’s fault anyway, so he should do it.

He doesn't flinch when Charlie moves his hand to under Finn's arm, doesn't even seem to acknowledge that someone else is there. He’s the last to leave, refusing to go before the others, ensuring they get their injuries checked.

“Finn, I'm going to help you up and then get you to the car.” He's interrupted by Finn's soft keening. “Okay. I'm getting you up. We gotta go.”

By the time Finn had been manhandled into a reasonably upright position, people were starting to stare. Finn's quiet begging wasn't helping either, desperate nonsense and whispered bargaining. He does, at least, grab onto Charlie's clothes to try and steady himself, as his surroundings keep flickering. Finn can’t stand by himself, darkness fogging his vision as he pitches forward. “Major!”

He gets heavier against Charlie's side as they walk, the usual five minutes turned into a half hour. There's brief moments of recognition in his eyes, a muttered apology before his reality shifts again and he's thrown back into whatever hell he's reliving. There are too many people touching him, holding him down, and he can’t breathe. Hasn’t got the air to tell them.

Finn is shoved into the passenger's side (it's not graceful, and Jack would definitely tell him off for it) and instructed to put his seat belt on. It takes another moment of blank stares for Finn to comply, still looking warily at his hands and the lack of blood across his chest. 

“Daniels. Stay awake. None of you saw this?” It’s getting easier to lose focus, let himself go. “Daniels! You do not get to choose this. What about Amelia? Daniels-”

Jack ends up on speaker halfway through the drive home, Charlie trying to update him without worrying either one of them. Finn mutters to something as Charlie talks, Jack picking up on the panicked desperation from the medic. Amelia. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

“I've just got Finn. Yes, we're fine physically. No, nobody's injured. Liam's taking them home.”

Finn braces himself against the dash, trying to force air into his lungs. He reaches for the door handle as Charlie glances over at him. He can’t breathe. He’s got to get out, to do something.

“Finn! What are you doing?” Charlie's hand is too tight against his wrist, and he whines. “No, come on, Finn. Sit back for me, yeah? You're alright.”

“What's going on?”

“Don’t mind us, Jack, we're just deciding that we don't want to be in the car while I'm driving.” His shaking laugh betrays his cool words. “Didn't think I was that bad at driving, Finn.”

Charlie knows better than to keep touching him, so he gently loosens his grip, telling him he's alright, breathe, in...out, hes okay. He’s okay?

“Gon’ sick.” (Charlie was sure he wasn't that bad a driver)

“That's okay. We've got a dish in the back from Sam. I'm just reaching behind you, okay?”

Once the dish had been placed in Finn's lap, and he'd stared through it enough, he resumed sitting, unmoving, in silence.

He'd stopped reacting to Charlie's comments, no longer any recognition when he spoke.

“You'll be okay, Finn.”

Jack meets the pair on the driveway as Charlie is trying to help him out the car. Finn has his head in his hands, his fingers pulling at his hair; he’s hyperventilating, each breath coming with a pained gasp and the tightening of his fists.

“Can you do your seat belt, Finn?” He waits, already knowing the response he’s going to get. “Okay, I’m gonna do it then.”

Charlie reaches over as he unclips it, feeling the tremors in Finn’s muscles. He’s closer than he’d like to be, especially while Finn is like this.

“Hey, Finn. It’s Jack. We gonna get you in?” There’s still nothing from Finn, so Jack tries again. Unsurprisingly, he gets the same response.

“He’s been like this for the better part of half an hour. It’s just been getting worse. He’s not here, not at all.” Charlie’s hushed tones go straight over Finn’s head while Jack chews on his lip in concern.

“Finn, we’re going to get you out. Charlie’s gonna get one side and I’m gonna be on the other, and we’ll get you to bed.”

Together, they manage to swing his legs out and stand him up. They let Finn balance for a second, a frown etched on his face, before gently pulling on his elbow. He’s shaky on his feet, and they’re mainly carrying him, but he’s moving, and that’s all that Jack cares about right now.

Each door closing behind them elicits a flinch and a whimper out of him, trying to pull himself out of their arms. By the time they’ve reached Finn’s room they’re exhausted.

“Do you have keys Finn?” Jack pauses out of courtesy before continuing, “I’m going to check your pockets, that okay? There we go..let’s get you in.”

Finn drops onto his bed, curling up and pulling the cover over his head.

“I’m going to sort the car out if you don’t need me anymore?”

“That’s fine, Charlie. Thanks.” Jack perches on the end of Finn’s bed. “Can I get you anything Finn? I’m gonna get you some water, and then some snacks for later if you feel up for it? I’ll just be a minute. Your door’s unlocked.”

At some point Finn slips into the empty release of sleep.

The relief doesn't last long, nightmares and flashbacks bleeding into the darkness. The sheets tangle around his legs as he fights it, whimpers and low groans escaping his lips.

With a final shout, he throws himself off bed scrambling backwards until he hits the wall, sure he's going to die.

It takes a moment for him to feel the pain in his shoulder, burning red hot and real.

He groans against his knees, trying desperately to just breathe.

Bullets ricochet over his head, and there's blood pouring from a wound under his fingers that isn't slowing down.

The light from the corridor shifts his surroundings again, and drags him back to the present.

“Finn?” He barely registers someone else in the room with him. “Shit. Finn? It's just Jack, okay? You're in the base. You're safe.”

Jack has seen plenty of flashbacks - he's had plenty himself- but he hasn't seen Finn this bad before. Finn stays curled in the corner, limbs shaking and gasping for air that isn't coming

The boss starts towards him, each movement slow and deliberate.

“You're okay, you're safe. It's just Jack. I'm gonna sit next to you. You're safe.” He sits, legs crossed, in front of Finn, careful to leave plenty of room; he doesn't want to make the situation worse, and he really doesn't want to get punched again, especially while Finn is like this.

“Can you look at me, Finn?” There's a moment's delay before Finn's wild and unfocused eyes search for Jack. He tries for a moment before giving up and scrubbing his hand across his face with a whine.

"Finn, just breathe. You're okay. In...out. keep going. You're safe." Jack checks his watch. Seven minutes since he heard Finn throw himself across the room, and seven minutes of failing to bring him back.

The door opens again and Sam pokes his head around it.

"Hey Finn. Jack. Can I come in? It's just Sam."

He gently closes the door behind him, careful not to let it make a noise.

"Sam? Is this the best idea?" Jack doesn't mean for it to sound rude.

"Just give it try." He turns back to Finn. "Finn. It's Sam. We're with Jack and we're in your room, in England, on the base. Can you look at me? No? That's okay."

Jack hadn't seen this side of Sam before- sure, he's different with Alex, but this is something else.

"I'm just gonna hold your hands, okay? It's just Sam." He gently slips his fingers behind Finn's hands and pulls them off his face. Finn lets out a soft keen, but doesn't pull away.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe. You're on the base, and you're with Sam and Jack."

Finn's fingers are cold to the touch, unsurprising with his hyperventilation, and his hands tremble in Sam's.

"Okay. Finn? We're gonna breathe now. Just listen to mine, okay?" It takes another minute for Finn to join in with Sam.

"Can you look at me?" Finn struggles to open his eyes, and they remain unfocused as he searches for Sam. "Finn? Do you know where you are? You know you're safe?"

"Base." It's spoken, but barely, his voice cracking.

"Good. You're still safe, okay? You're just with Sam and Jack."

Finn grips Sam's hands, trying to keep a hold on reality. Sam can't help the triumphant smile at Jack, a mouthed "he's coming back."

They sit like that for a little while, Finn slowly coming back to them, eyes refocusing and breathing returning to normal without having to be prompted. He's still shaking, but that's not entirely unexpected considering everything that he'd just been through.

"You back with us Finn? You know where you are?" Sam asked, voice still soft and gentle.

"I'm in my room on the base. 'm sorry." He pulls his hands out of Sam's, scrubbing them across his face.

Sam wakes to water being thrown over him.

He jerks backwards with a cough, still stuck in his sleeping bag, still sleeping on the street corner.

The man standing above him is the same man that's been trying to recruit him for the past few weeks.

"Sammy boy! Rise and shine, squirt." He crouches in front of Sam. "Get up."

"Leo. I'm not working for you. I've told you to leave me alone."

"That's not the right attitude to have. Up. Now."

Sam groans as he untangles himself, pushing himself onto his feet. He has to steady himself with a shaking hand on the wall behind him.

He can't remember the last time he ate.

It takes a second for him to realise he's being spoken to.

"You're not listening, are you?"

"Sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't cut it. This is your last chance. Help me out, I'll help you. Don't, and I'll make your life hell."

Sam scoffs at that.

"I'm already living it, mate. You can't make it worse."

His head hits the wall before he realises what's happening, thin fingers wrapping their way around his throat. Sam kicks out, desperately trying to get out.

"I warned you." Leo leans in, blocking Sam's attempts at escape, moving to press his forearm across his neck. "I warned you what would happen, and I don't give second chances. Next time, I'll snap your neck."

Spots appear in Sam's vision as he tries desperately to breathe, his chest rising, but no air moving.

Sam can feel his legs starting to give way beneath him, the pressure growing at his neck.

He struggles to focus on the man in front of him, struggles to think of anything but fighting the darkness spreading.

By the time his head hits the floor he's unconscious, the boot in his side just for fun. Bruises are already forming across his neck, the marks stark against his skin.

When Finn returns to civilian life, things don't go to plan. Jess and Amelia welcome him back, and for a moment they're a family again. But then the nightmares start.

The house is woken up at least once a night with Finn's screams, fighting against Jess as he wakes. He moves to sleep on the sofa after one of his hits land, terrified he'll do it again, and too guilty to let Jess forgive him.

They have weekly meetings, support groups and psychiatrists, but nothing works. So, they turn to medication, and drug him until he's out of it, until he can no longer wake to Amelia's cries in the night.

Jess tries. She does everything she's been advised to, everything she's read about. Still, she breaks. She stands screaming and crying at Finn as he stares blankly through her. He doesn't blink as the magazine goes flying past his head, doesn't protest Jess leaving as she drags Amelia behind her, crying for her dad.

He ends up on his parent's doorstep, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. They fuss over him until he escapes, slinking off to his room. He spends the next three days staring through the wall. He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep.

The fourth night is spent throwing up the rest of his medication. His judgment is clouded, but he's not going to die, so he stays by the toilet instead of calling his parents.

They find him slumped against the bath in the late morning.

He jerks up as they barge in, turning on the lights. There's a grumble, some choice words and a half hearted attempt to push them away.

"Finn." He can hear the pity in his mother's voice. It's not welcome. "Finn, sweetheart, what's going on with you?"

She crouches in front of him, careful to avoid the mess both on him and the floor, and places her hands on his cheeks. He pulls away, gently swatting her hands away.

"-off"

"Finn, are you drunk?" She frowns as she tries to tip his head up to look at him. "Finn. Lift your head up. Look at me."

"Mum I'm fine. Get off"  His words are slurred, barely forming sentences. "Leave me alone."

She shakes her head before disappearing into the corridor and calling for her husband.

"Fred! Get the car ready. We're going to hospital. Your son's done something stupid."

"'s not stupid." He forces himself to look at her. "'m fine."

"You're going to hospital. Give me a second, just...stay put."

Without her constant pestering, Finn drifts off again, pressed awkwardly against the side of the bath.

"Finn. Finn." he groans as she nudges him again, scowling as she pulls on his arm. "Get up. You're getting dressed."

"No. 'm not gonna."

"You don't have a choice, young man. We're going."

He complains as they wrestle him into some clean clothes, then bundle him into the car. By this point, he's shaking and shivering, hoodie pulled tight against his face. His dad sits in the back with him, trying to keep him awake and talking. He stops responding properly halfway to the hospital, but he's not sure if it's Finn being stubborn or something worse.

They drag him out of the car and into a wheelchair, ignoring his slurred protests. He ends up in majors, tubes and wires everywhere. He's uncooperative, pulling his hands away as they try to cannulate him, telling them where to go. They don't listen, instead distracting him with something else as they do it.

Jess turns up half an hour later, flustered and teary. She sits with Finn until he's more coherent, holding his hands and telling him stories about Amelia.

He apologises every hour, tells her he doesn't mean it, that he can't keep doing it. Jess tries to reason; it's only been a few weeks, things will get better, but he refuses.

"Jess?" He pulls his hand from hers. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Finn. We'll get there."

"No," He scrubs his hand across his face.   "I can't do this to you...to you or Amelia. You deserve more than this."

"Finn-"

"I...I'm sorry. It's over. This...we-we're done."

"No, Finn." She reaches over to stroke his face. "I'm not just going to leave you because it's tough. I love you."

He rests against her hand for a moment, the action comforting and familiar. The ghost of a smile flickers across his face for a second before he frowns, pulling away.

"Jess, I'm sorry. Look after Amelia. I love you both, but this...this is best, right?"

"Finn, please. Let's just talk about this."

"Go. Please, don't make this worse." He pushes her hand away. "Please, Jess."

She kisses his forehead, a soft "I love you." as she leaves.

When Finn's parents come in, he's still sobbing. He won't talk to them, so they sit in silence, watching their son break down.

"We'll get your room sorted properly for you, paint it if you want. You'll have to tell us what you want to eat. I'll go shopping later and-" Finn zones out, letting his parents fuss. Something inside him feels guilty for leaving, for having to move back in, but it's his best option, he's sure.

 Tom doesn't complain, grimacing and chewing on the inside of his lip instead. The meeting is tedious and he finds himself zoning out a few times. He tunes back in with a sheepish glance at Liam, shifting forward in his chair.

When the meeting is over, Jack tells Tom to go home. There's nothing really for him to do on-base, and he's obviously in pain, as much as he tries to deny it. He refuses Finn's offer of a ride, steadying himself against his bike as he walks. Jack pretends he doesn't hear his complaining as he leaves. Liam follows about ten minutes later, a half-hearted excuse of 'going shopping' as he sets off to find Tom.

When he catches up to Tom, he's given up on walking and is sat on his bike, pushing himself along with one foot, the other resting gingerly on his pedal as Liam pulls up alongside him. "Need a lift?" "I'm fine, really it's okay." He doesn't sound so sure, his voice cracking halfway through. "Just get in the car." When Tom ignores him, Liam shuts the engine off and walks over. "Come on. I'll give you a lift. Won't tell the team if that's what you're worried about."

Tom hesitates for a moment, before begrudgingly getting off his bike and limping over to the passenger door. Liam quickly throws his bike in the boot, glad he'd had the forethought to take the bigger car, before getting in again and driving off. "Don't get mad, but I'm taking you to the hospital." He clicks the child lock on. "So you're kidnapping me?" "Yeah. What you going to do? Call the cops?" Tom's unimpressed huff makes Liam continue. "Look, you need that seen to. I'll stay with you and drive you home after, but you're going to A&E." "Fine. Not like I've got much choice." Tom huffed and took to staring out of the window while Liam drove.

By the time they get to the hospital, Tom's hands are clenched into fists, bracing himself against the dashboard. He hasn't really spoken to Liam the entire drive, letting him ramble on about something he's not interested in. When Liam pulls up, he opens the door for Tom. "Need a hand?" "I'm fine." Tom insisted before he tried to stand up and his leg gave way beneath him. "Sure you are." Liam grabs Tom as he falls, apologising when Tom whines. He attempts to insist he's fine again but get cut off by a wave of dizziness. His breath comes in short gasps as he leans further into Liam's side. "You stay here. I'll go grab a wheelchair then we'll head in, ok?" Liam told him as he helped him to sit back down. "No, I'll be alright. I just need a little support." "You can hardly stand, you need a bit more than 'a little support'" "Liam. Let me walk. I'm not getting in a chair." "I'm getting you a wheelchair. If you want to walk, then walk." He tosses Tom the keys before stalking over to the entrance. Tom stays sitting, still complaining to himself when Liam returns.

Liam helps him into the chair, and Tom grumbles to himself the entire way to the A&E entrance. He sits there, arms folded and looking like he's trying to disappear into the seat while Liam talks to the woman behind the desk.

They're seen quickly, the nurses recognising Tom as one of their own. He's transferred onto a bed and, much to his dismay is met by one of his cohort, Amy. By the time Amy walks over and asks what brought them in, all the stubborn frustration Tom had been holding on to had dissipated. "I got knocked off and my leg - it just really hurts and I'm sorry-" his sentence trails off into sobs, rubbing the back of his hand across his face. "Hey, it's okay." She rubs his shoulder gently. "You had anything for the pain?" He shakes his head. "I'll just go get you something. I'll be right back, ok?" she says, with one last comforting shoulder squeeze before she left. Liam was stood by the bed, feeling a little awkward.

"Um, Tom? Do you want me to stay here, or should I go wait somewhere else?" Tom looks embarrassed, still covering his face. "I can go if -" "No, please." He clears his throat. "I don't- uh- don't want to be alone." "Sure. Do you want me to call your mum? Let her know what's going on?" Tom shakes his head, letting out a small whimper. "Why not? She'll have to know." It's uncharacteristically soft for Liam, now crouched down to face Tom. "You won't be able to hide it when you go home." "They're on holiday. Have been for the past two weeks." "You're by yourself? Why didn't you say anything? You could have stayed with us." That sets Tom off crying again, face pressed into the bed and each movement jarring his leg "Hey, no. I wasn't telling you off. I worry about you, Tom. I just want to make sure you're alright." "'m sorry." "You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to come and stay in the base once we're done here? There's an empty room next to mine, and you'd be welcome to stay until your parents are back." "They won't want me." "What are you on about? Of course they would."

Tom's saved from answering by the return of Amy, a senior doctor following. She smiles at him as she walks in. "Right, I've got you something for the pain and then we can have a look at your leg, ok?" "Thank you." "You've had morphine before, right?" Tom nods before answering, watching her inject the drug. "Made me dizzy. Didn't like it too much." "Yeah, it can do that. Helps with the pain though." He watches her for a moment longer before turning his attention to Liam. "I'll be fine." "We'll talk about it a bit later alright? Let's get your leg seen to first."

Once the morphine kicks in, they start cutting at his trousers and shoes, Tom whining as they do so.  They start examining Tom's leg, apologising as they feel down it. When they press along the break, Tom groans, forcing his head back into the bed as he bites back a scream. "Sorry Tom." He manages to gasp that it's okay before passing out, his hand going limp in Amy's. "Tom? You still with us?" Liam asked, a little concerned. “He should come round in a second.” Amy assured Liam before she started to explain what they were going to do.

(Set after Group Mandated Hell)

Finn stays jumpy the rest of the session, one of the workers pulling him aside at the end.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” Finn doesn't meet his eyes, arms folded across his chest.

“Talk to me, you're okay here.”

“I said I was fine, okay?” He pushes past him, storming to his mum's car.

Slamming the door as he climbs in the backseat was an accident, but he shrugs it off.

“Hello to you too.”

Finn grunts in response.

“What's up? Rough night?”

“None of your business.”

“Hey! Finn,” she sighs, turning to face him “Finn, I'm not going to push you, but you can talk to me. You've been doing so well.”

“I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to sleep.”

“Finn-”

“Sleeping.” He pulls his hood up, leaning against the window.

“Fred?”

“Kitchen, sweetheart.” He calls bac

“I'm worried about Finn again.” She admits quietly, moving to stand beside him at the cooker and leaning into him.

“What's he done now?”

“He was just...not right.”

“He's going to have good and bad days, we've just got to be there for him.” He wraps his arm around her. “He'll get there. We'll get there.”

Finn misses the next week's group, spending the afternoon throwing up, his temperature steadily rising. His fever doesn't help with his flashbacks, waking up screaming more than once as his mum soothes him, brushing his hair off his forehead. He calls out for Jess a few times, disappointment clouding his features as he focuses on his mum.

His dad takes over from Sheila around midnight, the pair deciding to take shifts to keep an eye on him. Finn wakes up again at two am, shivering and delirious.

“Jess?”

“It's just me, kiddo.” He gently pushes Finn back into the bed. “You're okay.”

“No, I need Jess. Where's Jess?”

“Finn, hey, just relax. Jess is at home with Amelia.” Finn just frowns at him. “You've picked something up, you're not well. Just relax, you're okay.”

Finn continues to watch him suspiciously for a moment before slowly relaxing back into the bed. He doesn't shrug his dad's hand off his shoulder, so Fred leaves it there, gently rubbing it.

“Dad?”

“Right here, kiddo. What do you need?”

“I'm not bad, am I?” Finn keeps his eyes closed.

“What?”

“‘m not bad. I tried to save them but I couldn't. I did my best, I really tried.” He can't help the shake in his voice.

“Finn, no. Of course not.” Fred's stumped for a moment; aside from the basics, Finn tries not to talk about it. “You're not bad. You did well.”

“I couldn't save them. I couldn't-” his voice cracks as he breaks off into sobs. “I tried and now I see them. I can't get them out of my head. they're always there.”

“Hey, it's okay. You did your best, more than most would have. You saved Chris' life.”

“Lost his arm.”

“And he would have died without you there. Finn, please don't beat yourself up, you don't need to do that to yourself.”

It's quiet for a few moments, enough to make Fred wonder if Finn's fallen back asleep.

“Dad?”

“Still here.”

“‘m gonna do it again.”

“Do what?” He can't help the concern in his voice.

“Medicine.”

“Yeah?” It's the first he's heard about it.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure, kiddo.”

“Was meant to have an interview today. Not group. Allison was gonna drive me.”

“Allison from group?” Finn nods.

“I got another next week. Gonna get back on my feet.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Just - take your time. Don't rush into things, yeah?”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Gon’ be sick.”