Drake nodded his head thoughtfully throughout the story, and subconsciously weaved his fork between his metal fingers. He was never the comforting type, nor was Sawyer a sympathetic man, so the thought of reaching over to console Sawyer never crossed his mind. The most genuine way that Drake could attempt to mend the damage with his copilot was through empathy. “[b]I thought the same thing,[/b]” Drake muttered, his voice suddenly gaining a raspy twinge, as if it were caught on something in his throat, “[b]I thought I’d be just fine without all of you. I... after your death, and we split up, I thought that it was my responsibility, as Captain, just to keep the gang out of trouble. You know how reckless Alpha and Garin can be... Colorado was doin’ just fine, and I couldn’t give a damn where the rest of ‘em went, as long as they weren’t dead.[/b] “[b]So I did what I had to do. I kicked Garin out, so that he wouldn’t be bold enough to try nothin’ without us at his back. But Alpha...[/b]” Drake looked down at his fork, which was now motionless in his hands. He caught his reflection in its metal sheen, and took a deep breath. “[b]Kicking her out wouldn’t stop her. Kid’s a freakin’ outlaw after your own heart. After the crew split up, I figured that I’d make a change for the better in Amoridia. A police force called the ASF reached out for me, offered me amnesty if I signed up as a bounty hunter. Told me that I could make a difference by detaining anomalies: dangerous off-worlders, meta-humans, supersoldiers. When I detained Alpha... I didn’t know what they’d do to her. I thought that keeping her close would keep her safe, somewhere that I’d have some power over her.[/b]” Drake stared at the fork as it bent almost in half, crushed unwillingly by his grip. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “[b]When I found out what they’d done to her, it was too late for her. Apparently they tortured the hell out of her, experimented on her, and then she died. I thought that I was able to protect her... but those monsters stabbed me in the -blam!-ing back. I’d failed her as her protector, I failed her as her captain... and I failed her as her friend. All because I thought that I could control fate.[/b]” Drake leaned back into his chair, slumping down like a puppet whose marionette had suddenly dropped dead. The story had bled him dry, and brought up dangerous memories that he didn’t wish to relive.