“I’m okay,” Leo said. Though he wasn’t. Not at all.

He found a corner far from the door and tucked himself into it, pulling his knees to his chin. Baz and Kat were huddled in the adjoining corner, whispering to each other, probably discussing how much they could get for the information on the chip and who might be the highest bidder. After all, they’d tried to do the right thing, the noble thing, the heroic thing, and look where it had gotten them. Why not at least make some profit off their uncovered treasure before the whole galaxy was flushed down the drain? That was what a good pirate would do.

Then again, this was Bastian Black. Leo wasn’t even sure Baz knew what Baz was going to do next.

He knew what he should do. He should go over there and demand to be included in whatever decisions they were making without him, but he couldn’t muster the energy. A half jar of stolen peanut butter and an x-year-old Twinkie only carries you so far before you crash. Leo felt sapped. His feet throbbed. His head ached. What he really wanted was to be at home, in his bed, curled up under his warm covers with Gareth in the room across the hall. What he really wanted was to wander downstairs and find his mom and dad sitting together on the couch.

What he really wanted he knew he couldn’t have.

Leo felt his eyelids turn to anchors as he curled up on the floor and began to drift away, wondering why his father had sent him out here for nothing. Wondering why he had sent Leo away at all.

Before long, he found himself back on that beach. The one he returned to night after night. Bright sky, sand like sifted flour. Leo’s toes licked by the surf. There was no Gareth this time. No Dad. He was completely alone. Against the backdrop of clouds, a trio of seabirds circled soundlessly. Leo dug his feet in, felt the cool water lapping along his ankles, but even the waves made no sound, their crashes muted, as if the whole world had been silenced. Above him the bright orange eye of the sun beat down.

Then he saw her. Standing at the top of the sandbank, dressed in white, chestnut hair tugged and tousled by a howlless wind. Leo opened his mouth to call her name, but nothing came out. He threw up his arms, waving at her, trying to warn her, but she just looked at him and smiled.

Behind her a second, brighter sun suddenly burst into being. Leo screamed, soundless and futile, while his mother slowly turned to ash before his eyes.

He woke with a start, looking around, trying to remember where he was and how he had gotten here. The room was almost entirely dark, save for one strip of floor lighting that emitted a fluorescent green glow. In the shadows he could just make out the rest of the crew. Baz slept sitting up, one of his pistols in his lap, head hung between his knees. Kat and Boo lay beside each other, the Queleti having found someone to take him up on his offer of a furry forearm. Surprisingly Boo’s snoring hadn’t reached its characteristic chain-saw drone, idling at a kitten’s purr, which could explain why the other two were still out.