Lauren Hauley barely holding back tears after James cuts his hair himself before he heads off to enlist. Just shears off his growth, the length of his fluffy hair and the patchwork of a beard he'd been able to grow so far. He looks so small. Young. Vulnerable even. She can't believe they're sending their little boy, their only son to fight, to risk his life for the people pointing fingers behind desks, but he looks up at her, so small, and he seems so fucking proud of himself, so eager, and she can't say no. There's not a damn thing in the world she could ever say to make him stay, to make him change his mind. "It's just bootcamp, Ma," James reassures her a million times. But it's no use. All she can see is her little boy being used as cannon fodder for rich snobs and it breaks her heart.
Thomas is beyond proud, teary eyed for his own reasons. He'd made James the man he was. All those talks about right and wrong, James tagging along as a little boy at the police station to color in the break room, teaching him about going out of his way to stand up for others in middle school even if it meant he became a target himself. James wears it well standing before them, grinning, and Thomas is just beyond proud of his son. James was more than ready to face his fears. No longer a boy, but a man. In Thomas's eyes, there was no better soldier he'd want out there fighting for their freedom, making the right calls.