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Sloane cocked his head. “You’ve never talked about what you wanted to do after serving. I guess I figured you’d decided on staying.”

“I hadn’t...made up my mind, actually. Honestly, when I renewed, it was because I didn’t know what I wanted to do if I were to get out. Go to college? And do what? Nothing called to me. There wasn’t any one thing I was good at.”

“I think being a Doc counts for a lot on the civilian side of the world.”

Dean snorted. “And do what? The same thing I’ve been doing here? What’s the point of leaving then? It might not seem like much to my parents or people like them, but hell, at least here, I have a purpose. I have direction. If I left, all I’d do is wander around, unsure what to do with myself.”

“You stay because it gives you meaning,” Sloane said simply.

“Not the most thrilling of reasons,” Dean admitted as he refueled his cup.

“When the fuck did a reason have to be thrilling? If it’s a reason that works for you, then fuck it, go with it. If you being in the military gives you what you need, keep the contract going and make a life of it. If you find out you don’t want to do it anymore, stop after it expires and don’t renew. Simple.”

Dean chuckled, sipping his coffee and nodding. Dean wasn’t sure if Sloane tended to cut to the heart of a problem because he was hardwired that way or because he’d been forced to after helping raise his two admittedly emotional and melodramatic sisters.

“You haven’t exactly talked about what you were going to do other than this stuff,” Dean pointed out.

Sloane shrugged. “I might stick with it, but eh, probably not. Military can always use more grunts, but I don’t want to be a grunt forever. Maybe I’ll find something with the cops, wouldn’t that be something? Poor kid growing up to be a soldier, then a cop, that would get them talking back home.”

Dean grinned. “Probably no more than my parents’ friends.”

Sloane blinked. “I mean, my neighborhood is filled with nothing but druggies, gangsters, and burnouts. What the hell would people in a nice neighborhood have to talk shit about?”

They had grown up on opposite sides of the proverbial tracks. Sloane had grown up with people being shot on his street,muggings in the alley next to his apartment, and drug dealers lurking on every corner. It had always puzzled Sloane when he was given a peek into the troubles of upper-middle-class America.

Dean sighed. “Our neighbor’s daughter was in med school before I left, and their son was on his way to valedictorian of his graduating year. Across the street were twins whose science project caught international scientific interest, something about cleaning up plastics in the ocean. One of my cousins just got accepted to some big law firm in New York, and another is this big nature photographer who even got into National Geographic.”

Sloane frowned. “And? Is this one of those things where your parents think something stupid?”

Dean laughed. “Compared to all those examples, how would I stand up? I did alright in school, never was part of a club of any mention, and after graduation, I signed up for the military. My parents thought it was just a phase, that I was going through a ‘rebel’ stage, their words, not mine, and that I would work it out.”

Sloane squinted. “Signing up to serve the government...to go fight and maybe die in some part of the world...is a...rebel stage?”

“Yep.”

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Only because you haven’t been at one of their family dinners. That’s where the really fun things are said.”

Sloane shook his head. “I swear, everything I hear about your parents makes me want to hit them upside the head.”

Dean shrugged. “That’s just how things work in my family and with their social circle.”

“They should appreciate the son they have, not try to make him into something they think he should be.”

Dean smiled, touched. “You clearly don’t know how things work in middle-class suburbia.”

“And I don’t want to either, sounds stupid.”

“Only because you have a family who likes you.”

Sloane raised a brow. “They liked you too.”

Dean paused and then let out an exasperated sigh at Sloane’s grin. “Please. Do not.”

“Shawna, especially,” Sloane continued.

Dean pointed. “No.”