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Pain gripping his heart, Magnum storms back to his cold, lonesome room. He slams the door, hinges screaming in protest, wood almost splintering. All he wants is to scream. He longs to snap something in half, only to feel bad about it later. Every inch of his skin is on fire.
Seething, the captain looks around his bedroom, but it's filled with him. His clothes, his books, his very essence overfills the room. It’s overbearing. Everything in him involves Eric now. It fucking hurts. He yearns to yell and punch and hit Eric, but the thought of hurting even a molecule of the other man spirals him into slimy guilt.
Magnum feels hot tears threaten to spill over. Not wanting to give in, he turns ballistic. Strong hands strangle the footboard of the bed, it almost splitting into pieces. It makes a loud crack, buckling under the pressure. Like snapping Dark’s neck, the sound is almost satisfying. He fantasizes about feeling the man’s broken neck in his hands, the bones shifting under his palms. Magnum thinks about how he had punched him. How his body careened onto the billiard table only to stay limp and lifeless. Everything in the man didn’t want Dark to get back up. When he did, he couldn’t help but be disappointed.
Magnum’s teeth clench painfully. He had just committed murder. If Dark hadn’t been immortal, the captain would have been hauled away to jail right now.
Angry eyes scour the footboard. He notices a small crack in the wood and frowns. That’s when he realizes his temper needs to be tamed. Otherwise he’ll destroy his entire bedroom in minutes. He has to forget everything for a while, and thinking of going to jail makes his thoughts turn to one person in particular.
The captain searches the halls fruitlessly until he finds Yancy in his room. Every fiber of his being knows this is a bad idea, yet he can’t help it.
“I’m comin’,” the man calls from the other side when Magnum’s fist knocks upon his door.
When he opens it he’s got a cigarette hanging from his mouth. It starts to fall from his lips, but gladly the former prisoner catches it. Yancy makes a hiss of pain as he accidentally touches the hot tip, but quickly pretends everything is fine.
“Uh, hi. How youse doin’, Cap’n?”
“Let’s get drunk,” Magnum practically orders.
The former prisoner is shocked but happily agrees to go with him. They order an Uber with Bing’s help, which the captain didn’t know existed, and head to the nearest dive. Outside is littered with motorcycles and tough, leather-clad people of the night. Inside there are dart boards, billiard tables, smoke filling the dank room, and untrustworthy creatures fighting and laughing and fucking. The captain feels at home there. Though he seems nervous, so does Yancy.
They slam down as many beers as they can muster. For Magnum that’s more than a dozen. The bottles start to stack up, the bartender impressed and a little concerned. That couldn’t be a good sign in a place like this.
After a while, the captain tells him everything that's been on his mind, Yancy listening intensely as he alternates between cigarettes and booze.
“I can't believe he snuck off while we were playing billiards. What did I do wrong? Am I not good enough for him?" Magnum gulps down another beer, knowing in his heart that he wasn't. "Aye, I'm not. But I adored him, Yancy. How- how could he-“
The captain shakes his head, taking another sip of the fill up the bartender gives. His vision is starting to blur, but his emotions are still tragically unfazed.
“I dunno, but I know if youse were mine, I’d never let youse go.”
Magnum appreciates the drunken sentiment, but it’s neither the time nor the place. Every nerve in his body is exposed and being tortured with electricity. All thoughts he has are of Eric. How much he misses him. How much he hates him. His mind turns to what Wilford had told him. How he saw Dark's hands splayed on Eric's naked chest, his boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now- backed up against his desk, Dark standing between his legs. The man had caught them in the throes of passion and they still denied it. Magnum growls, thoughts flickering from nostalgic to murderous.
A burning hand is placed on Magnum’s thigh, fingers itching to touch. It stays there, waiting. The captain looks at it and for a moment can’t help but wonder. Should he get revenge? Should he fuck this man just to make Eric suffer? It would break Eric the same way he’d broken him. The captain wants to so badly. He craves for Eric to burn in an agonizing inferno the way he is. Then he would have to picture him with another man for all of eternity. The idea makes Magnum's drunken brain buzz with sick satisfaction.
Determined, he turns toward the other, fully intending to take Yancy in the back and fuck his brains out. He just wants to feel something that isn’t torturous suffering.
When he looks at the former prisoner it's not the same. He's not a cute, soft, sweet, bumbling young man with so much bursting potential it makes the captain’s heart ache. It’s a cruel reminder. Magnum hadn’t fallen for someone in decades. It hadn’t felt that way since his wife.
The captain’s thoughts turn to the gifted talisman around Eric’s neck. Knowing he still has something so precious boils his blood. Magnum scowls at his beer, hand clenching the glass so hard he’s afraid it’ll shatter into his hand. He never should’ve given it to him. His late wife would be appalled, looking down at him from heaven with sadness in her eyes. The captain has to blink away the tears. She was a smart woman. He was such an idiot. She always did warn him not to act before thinking, but it was just his nature.
‘I’m sorry, Mary.’
He takes her old advice and grasps Yancy’s hand. The other man looks excited for a moment before the captain puts it on the prisoner’s own thigh, then pats his hand gently.
"I appreciate the offer, but I can't right now."
Yancy tries his best not to look hurt or disappointed. The captain let's him put on the tough guy act as he turns toward his drink. Chugging the rest of his beer, Magnum hopes the pain will finally end. It doesn't. Pissed, Magnum slams the mug onto the bar top, sending vibrations through his arm and earning him a cocked eyebrow from the bartender. Yet the man doesn’t say a word, likely used to patrons being destructive in a place like this.
“Do youse wanna go home then? Would that be better?” Yancy asks while looking a little excitable, reinterpreting Magnum's meaning, eyes unfocused from the booze.
The captain knows he shouldn't even consider fucking this man. Back in the day, when he tried to keep his heart under lock and key, sure. He'd had many a fling before. Magnum knew there was nothing wrong with having fun and blowing off a little steam. Hell, he had hit on Wilford on his way to the manor for the first time.
They had been sitting in the back of a large black car, the driver paying them no mind. Magnum laid on the charm, complimenting his mustache and stocky physique. The man had flirted back, eyes going low and giving him ideas. As soon as Magnum made a move, however, he graciously declined.
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“Why not?” the captain asked simply, not offended, just curious as he pulled his hand from Wilford’s knee.
“I'm already taken,” explained Wilford, smiling happily at him before pouting at himself. “I don’t mean to flirt, it’s just an old habit. Dark gets mad at me for it sometimes.”
The captain could respect that. He was never one to condone cheating. Being a flirt himself, he understood exactly how he felt. It was difficult not to lay on the charm sometimes, even if you would never do anything about it.
“Who's yer beau? Is it that Dark fellow you’ve been talkin' about?”
Mustache twitching, Wilford seemed like he didn't want to tell, but also wanted nothing more. He leaned toward him a little, voice quiet.
“Can you keep a secret?”
"Absolutely."
"You can't tell anyone this at the manor, but Dark and I have been together for years. We're not really sure how long, because time skips for me sometimes. But I know it feels like a lifetime."
The captain smiled before his thoughts turned sour.
"Why aren't ye open at home?"
Magnum started feeling sick. Would he have to pretend he was straight? It’d been years since he had put on that act. He was proud of who he was. It was a young man’s game to care what other people thought. But even after almost two centuries, he was still human. He had feelings under his carefully-crafted gruff exterior. Sometimes too many for his own liking.
"The other people ye live with, they aren't... judgmental, are they?"
It took Wilford a moment to realize his meaning.
"Oh, you mean homophobic?"
“Aye,” clarified the captain with a nod, assuming that was the word young people called it nowadays.
Wilford snorted with a laugh, like it was much funnier than it should be. He smiled and shook his head slightly.
"Hell, no. I'm not sure a single one of us is actually straight."
The captain calmed a lot at that. His body stopped tensing and he let out a pleased sigh.
"Good."
Wilford nodded in agreement. They were honestly quite lucky. Not all the egos lived with them, but the ones who did minded their own business most of the time.
"Actually, there's someone I think will be very happy to meet you," Wilford admitted, a knowing look in his eyes.
Intrigued, the captain cocked an eyebrow. The thought definitely perked his interest.
"Oh, who's that?”
"His name is Eric. You’ll love him."
Magnum couldn’t have realized how true those words were going to be.
But things had changed in that short time since. Eric had been ecstatic to learn he wasn't the only amputee the first time they'd met. The captain was too, deep down. It bothered him much less than the lad, having ten times the amount of life to deal with the fact that his legs were gone. Nevertheless, it still hurt. And now, after everything that had happened between them, he was stuck getting drunk in a dive bar with a man he barely even knew instead of home with Eric where he felt he belonged. Time could change everything in a single instant. Magnum despises that. His heart physically aches inside its protective ribcage. Time was always taking everything precious away from him.
"Do ya want another beer?" the bartender asks his best customer of the night as Magnum frowns into his mug.
The captain is pulled from his thoughts and shakes his head. His towering body feels too heavy leaning against the sticky bar top. Magnum can't drink anymore. Not right now. Melancholy thoughts are too invasive inside his mind. They're trapped there and he's unable to force them out. Magnum’s inebriated mind wanders to that afternoon: the game of billiards. Eric's emotions were high every time he was around Yancy. You could practically feel the jealousy radiate off from him whenever they interacted. Part of the captain -the terrible, no-good pirate part of him- is telling him to take Yancy back home, bang him in the most public place he can find, and let Eric know he’s fucked up big time. The part of him that his mother taught him, to be a gentleman and never act like his god forsaken father, wants to listen to the woman he still missed so much.
Growling to himself, the captain slaps a few gold coins on the bar top, turning swiftly from his stool to leave.
"C'mon, let's go home."
“O- okay.”
Yancy follows on his heels, body swaying from the booze. The captain puts a hand on his back to steady his drunken feet and the other man coos, eyes sliding closed at the touch. Magnum is conflicted about what he should do next. If anything at all. He bites his lip as Yancy attempts to message a new driver, Magnum’s thoughts still vengeful. As he watches the other man he can’t help but want revenge. A headache threatens to consume him as he contemplates his choice. He sighs as their driver pulls up.
He’ll make his decision in the car.
xxoxx
When the two drunken men arrive back at the manor, Bing is starting to skate down their driveway and into the road. He gives them a little wave, figuring it must be them because he’d helped them a couple hours prior. The android keeps skating past until he's in the road and off to some unknown location.
Magnum and Yancy walk inside, steps heavy and unsure. It takes a stupid amount of effort to make it in. Steps aren’t easy with his prosthetics in general, but walking up them while holding a drunken Yancy makes it even more difficult. Once they do get inside, they’re exhausted. They sit in the living room and talk for a while to kill time before having to get back up. The two tell stories of prison and the sea, of people loved and lost. He talks about Eric as Yancy frowns, obviously uncomfortable. Eventually he stops reminiscing about the man he hated to still hold dear. It would do him no good.
Yancy leans against him, no longer able to support his body, or at least not wanting to. Usually Magnum wouldn’t mind the closeness. He’s never been one to shy away from contact. But he knows what Yancy wants and he still isn’t sure if he should give it to him. They were in an open area not far from Eric’s room. He knows that sound echoes down the hall. If they did the act here, surely the whole house would hear. Not that it mattered. He only needed one person to know. Magnum wasn't a screamer, but he'd put on an act just to make Eric become stricken with jealousy. Maybe Eric would wonder why he'd never made Magnum scream like that before. The thought puts a pleased scowl on Magnum's face.
They continue talking for a while about not much in particular, Magnum's thoughts elsewhere. Eventually the captain can’t stand it anymore. He still hasn’t decided what to do and it’s killing him. His head is pounding with pain and wracking thoughts.
After a moment he stretches and gets up, legs swaying like a breeze. Yancy is too plastered to stand on his own, so he helps the man back to his bedroom.
Drunk and inhibitions gone, Yancy tries to pull him down for a kiss. His hands wring around Magnum’s coat, yanking him down to his level. They’re standing in his doorway, much too plastered for this. Or, possibly for Magnum, not enough. The captain has to make his choice now. Watching Yancy stand there, ready to give him his body but not his heart, the realization makes the decision for him. He’s not Eric. And he never would be.
Shaking his head, the captain puts up a hand. The former prisoner looks disappointed but ready to keep trying. Now his eyes are closed, lips pressed together in waiting, still holding his coat. The captain doesn't want him back, yet he doesn’t know how to get it through his head that he's not interested. Not right now. And, frankly, he doesn’t want to be. All he craves is his old life back. The one he and Eric had started together. Even if that was impossible now, an aching heart wants what it can’t have.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Yer not him.”
Strong yet gentle hands squeeze Yancy’s, making him disconnect from his coat. The other man frowns but nods once, taking a step back. He runs a hand through his slicked hair, some of it sticking on end. Bleary eyes look up at Magnum, embarrassed yet empathetic.
“’t’s alright. I understand. Youse still love him.”
The word rings like a gunshot through his ears. Love. What a horrendous feeling. At one time it was very befitting. Only that morning Magnum had been smitten. Now he was devastatingly single and he abhorred it.
Hating his very existence, Magnum leaves the man to his own devices, legs taking him somewhere else. He’s drunk and broken and wants to make a mistake. One that he knows he’ll regret instantly. He yearns to talk to Eric. To see him. To know his side of the story. Even if they can never patch things up, he wants answers.
Heavy steps take Magnum back toward the lad’s old bedroom. The captain realizes he's barely stayed in there since they'd gotten together. A flash of sadness flows through the captain yet he dams it up quick. He doesn't want to feel sorry for the man, yet he does. Nothing was going to scrub those emotions away. Even if he despised having them now.
Hearing voices in Dark’s office, the captain stops mid-step. Magnum almost verbally growls when he realizes who they belong to. The door clicks open, a wobbly Eric stepping out of the lighted office.
Hurt and not believing his own eyes, the captain stands motionless in the shadows, becoming one himself. Hands turn to fists as he realizes what that means. Furious, he wants to rush forward, demand an explanation, and get some god damn answers. Magnum yearns to know why. Was he not good enough in bed? Was he too rough? Did he not express himself well? Was Eric bored of him? Did he not care about him anymore?
Magnum stops breathing for a moment. Had he never cared? Was this just a game to Eric? Did he play the innocent virgin card then leave him in the dust once he was tired of him?
He had often caught Eric watching Dark, Magnum chalking it up to admiration and respect. But now he knows. His mind plays over the memory in his head of Dark finding them in the pool, seeming much too jealous for his liking. How Dark had given Eric his favorite book for his birthday, one very old and extremely expensive. Was his initial fear true all along? Had he and Dark been fucking around behind his back this entire time? Everything added up. Eric had been using him. They probably made fun of the pirate and called him an idiot like so many others had in Magnum’s life. The thought makes him murderous.
Eric fiddles with his bedroom door handle, completely unaware of the anger directed toward him. Eventually he goes inside as his former lover stands glaring daggers at him in the darkened hallway. Hatred fills his entire soul. Fire licks at his skin. Everything inside him screams and burns. Anger claws to get out. Fleetingly he thinks about the pistol at his hip, wondering which one of the two he would rather shoot. Fuming, the captain waits there for a long time. His body stands motionless in shock. It’s like he’s seen a ghost. They had done it again, hadn't they? The bastards were still fucking each other even after getting caught.
He sees the scene play out in his mind: soft touches, two glasses of wine. He can see the passion barely hidden in Eric’s eyes as he scours Dark's body. Dark smirks at him, unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking eye contact. Eric’s hungry eyes drool over his chest. Warm hands beg to touch and squeeze and stroke. Dark hoists him up on the desk, clothes now discarded. He starts to fuck Eric with a soft passion, connected in a way the captain was always too afraid to try with the man. Hard prosthetics dig into Dark’s bare ass as Eric moans his name in ecstasy. They’re losing themselves in the hot passions of sex while the captain is losing himself to white-hot jealousy imagining it.
Slamming on the breaks, Magnum pushes the intrusive thoughts as far away as possible. Sickening jealousy smirks at him. It has Dark’s sinister face. The terrible creature taunts him, slicing his skin with sharp blades. It devours his soul in one gulp.
The captain chokes on his own emotions. Eric hasn't learned his damn lesson. The bastard had run right back to his lover as soon as he had the chance. They were still cheating. The captain was still broken.
He knows exactly what he needs to do now. Eric wasn’t the only one who could make that mistake.
Smoldering with anger, the captain turns and marches into Wilford’s bedroom. He's not surprised that the mustachioed man is curled up on his bed, just as shattered as he is. Magnum notices a half empty bottle of booze on his nightstand. He quietly sits next to him, the other stirring when he realizes he’s no longer alone. Brown eyes are glossy and red as he glances at whoever’s broken his solitude. Embarrassed, Wilford wipes away at his face.
"Captain,” he welcomes with a clear of his throat, trying to pretend everything’s fine when nothing is.
"Colonel."
The equally ranking men stare at each other for a while.
"Part of me wants to get back at them," admits Wilford, hands fiddling as he stares at Magnum.
"Me too," the captain discloses, pain radiating in his chest. "Eric was just in Dark’s office."
Wilford turns a burning red. His body tenses, fists clenched. He sits up next to him, legs slumped over the side. Their outer thighs are now touching. An angry heat and shared sorrow surges between them.
“I’ve cheated on people before,” Wilford admits with a pained expression, voice far away though he’s right next to him. “I’m not proud of it, but I have. But never with Dark. I’ve always stayed faithful to him. I don’t understand why he would do this. I… I thought we were happy. I know I was.”
He understands exactly how that feels. Eric and him had a great thing going. Or so he thought. Magnum ruminates over his own relationship and sighs sadly, body deflating.
“I thought we were, too.”
After a beat Wilford puts an unsure hand on the captain’s wrist, both comforting and uncomfortable.
"Should we...?" Wilford asks, sad eyes wandering to Magnum’s.
They already knew they were attracted to each other. They'd had that conversation during their car ride months prior. But Wilford had stayed loyal, and the captain wasn't one to break up a good thing. He didn't think Eric had been either, but here they now were. Nothing was stopping them now. They were both unwillingly single.
"They'd both hear us if we did," the captain confesses.
The thought is a disgusting, satisfying one. The cheating bastards would finally know how it feels. It’s overwhelmingly tempting.
Wilford starts taking the other man’s hand in his. They sit there gauging how it feels. It’s not unpleasant. Wilford's smaller hand slots perfectly between his large one.
Cautious, Wilford leans toward the captain, other hand moving to his inner thigh. Magnum bends down, not sure what he’s doing or why. Wary fingers settle on Wilford’s back. It’s foreign and confusing. A darkness settles over him, demonic and hateful.
Wilford takes a deep breath and leans forward. Magnum doesn’t tip back nor does he stop him. Their lips are mere millimeters apart. Magnum can feel his breath against his skin. The other man takes a deep breath, eyes flashing to his lips in askance. Magnum nods once, giving him permission. Wilford closes the distance between them, soft lips meeting his. Magnum waits to feel something. Anything. But there’s nothing there. The spark he felt when he kissed Eric was entirely absent. Their eyes don't close. Their lips don’t move. It feels wrong.
Sighing sadly, Wilford leans back. He releases Magnum and scrubs a hand over his stubbled face.
“Sorry, I can’t do it,” admits the defeated man, voice strangled in his throat.
“I can't either,” sighs the captain, body tipping forward in defeat.
Where their lips had met burns like acid. It wasn’t right. No matter what they did it would never fix what had happened. There was no use trying. The men they loved were no longer theirs. Nothing was going to change that.
They sit there in uncomfortable silence for a long time, neither wanting to speak about what they had just done. He already regrets the kiss. It felt like pure adultery, even if they were both now painfully single. They owed their former lovers nothing. Yet Magnum can’t help himself. All he wants is to kiss Eric again. It breaks him inside, wanting to have him back. To hold him, touch him, call him his. It’s toxic, yet he craves Eric's affections like oxygen. No matter who Magnum tried to replace him with it would never work. Eric was one of a kind. Magnum was fucked.
“I miss Dark,” Wilford whispers into the cold night, voice distant and broken. He glances over at Magnum, lips pressed into a tight frown. The man squeezes their still connected hands then pulls away.
“I miss Eric,” admits the captain, heart shattered.
But they were never getting them back. It wouldn’t be right. Their ex-partners had made their bed and they could burn in their infidelity.
Watching Wilford lost and alone beside him, the captain knows coming in was a grave mistake. They didn't want to talk. There was nothing they could do to fix this mess. They wanted revenge, but it wouldn't be sweet. And it wouldn't change a god damn thing. Their partners were gone. They had chosen someone else. There was no point in denying that. And no reason for him to stay. So, instead, the captain takes his leave. He’s better off alone than bothering Wilford any further.
“Goodnight, Colonel.”
“Goodnight, Captain.”
Both men know there’s nothing good about it. Everything wonderful in their life had been ripped away from them, and now they were left sweeping up the debris of what used to be their hearts.
Defeated, the captain heads back to his lonely room filled with everything Eric. The bed smelled like him. His stuff was scattered about everywhere, mixing with his own things. Magnum wants to throw all his shit into a trash bag and fling it at Eric’s feet. He wants to hold Eric’s pillow and hug it close, pretending his lover had never strayed. His heart couldn't decide which he wanted more. Everything ached and felt so utterly wrong. The world felt big and lonely without Eric near.
Magnum swears he could cry an ocean, both Eric and him drowning in it. He would never admit to it, but that night all he wants to do is sob. The captain mourns over lost love and a man that would never be his again.
As the sun comes up Magnum decides he wants to make one final mistake. Heavy legs swing out of bed. He stands with maximum effort, still drunk and extremely tired, yet he somehow succeeds. His body caries him somewhere he shouldn’t go one last time. He turns the door handle, quiet as a bug, and steps inside Eric’s bedroom. When he sees the man he once adored curled up in bed sleeping peacefully his heart is ripped out with poison-soaked talons. Magnum says his goodbyes then as though he’s staring at a lifeless body inside a casket at a funeral. What they had between them was now dead. Eric had made sure of that.
Hurt yet determined to move forward, Magnum turns to leave, coat swishing behind him. Every step he takes away from Eric feels like miles.
Exhausted, Magnum goes to the kitchen and pours himself a generous mug of coffee. He notices that Illinois and Yancy are sitting at the table talking. Shuffling, eyes red and unfocused, Magnum sits beside the former prisoner with a grunt. The man looks at him uncomfortably but still gives him a smile.
“Hey, how are youse feelin’? Ya look like shit.”
“Thanks, I feel like shit,” Magnum admits, sucking down his coffee and staring at nothing.
Illinois clears his throat and leans over the table to look at Magnum, body more tense than usual.
“So, I heard you two went out last night. What happened? Yancy won’t tell me.”
The captain can’t help but hear jealousy in his deep voice. His head slowly turns toward the explorer. The other man tries to be unreadable, but Magnum can recognize he’s not feeling cool and suave beneath the carefully-placed exterior. Though he wasn’t expecting it, he did have to admit every time he saw Yancy the explorer wasn’t far behind. The thought gives him a small sense of happiness. Even if he couldn’t have a beau, at least somebody could have a decent relationship in this house. If they were lucky neither of them would cheat on each other.
“Don’t worry, lad. Nothing happened. He’s all yours if ye want him.”
“What- what do youse mean?”
Yancy turns scarlet as he looks terrified over at Illinois. The shocked man just stares at Magnum, unable to look Yancy in the eyes just yet.
“Illinois? What’s he talkin’ about?”
The explorer finally glances at Yancy, forcing on an air of his usual calm even though he was obviously distressed underneath it all.
“I… Well, actually I-”
All of their concentration is broken when a man suddenly enters the room. Magnum’s heart jolts when he realizes who it is. It’s Eric. Magnum’s body still lights up whenever he sees him, but now seconds later he gets stabbed through the chest. The nervous man jolts to a stop, eyes furiously glancing around the room. For a second their eyes almost meet, but Magnum looks away at the last second. When he glances back up Eric is staring heartbroken at Yancy sitting beside him. Magnum can’t help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction at the obvious jealousy.
‘Good. I hope ye suffer.’
Eric fills up a glass and chugs it down before practically running out of the kitchen. Magnum doesn’t like what he’s feeling. All of him desires to follow the other man. Every bit of him wants to stay put and sulk. It’s a terrible cacophony.
"Youse alright?"
"I'll be fine," lies Magnum through his teeth, not bothering to look at the two men.
Though he’s surrounded by other people, Magnum can’t help feeling like he’s in a barren wasteland. Losing the most important person in his life makes him realize just how alone he really feels.
"Ye two have fun."
Without another word he stands, letting the two men figure everything out on their own. They watch him leave then turn their attention back to each other, starting on a journey together Magnum wishes he was still on with Eric.
The captain wobbles back to his bedroom, the world grey around him. Magnum doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore. There was no point. Nothing was going to change what had happened. It was best to just forget it and move on.
Still wearing all his clothing from the day prior, Magnum settles onto his cold, expansive bed and forcefully turns his emotions off. Eventually he’s able to get a little shut eye, but it’s not a restful sleep. Every dream he has involves a certain man he once adored. All of them start pleasantly, then turn to nightmares.