The Glass House: Epilogue
Mar. 21st, 2010 02:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsTitle: The Glass House
Author: Sashataakheru
Beta: The wonderfulrana_narsilion <3
Fandom: The Chaser/AusComedy RPS
Starring: Adam Hills, Sepulchre (OC), Wil Anderson, Hamish Blake, Craig Reucassel, Tim Minchin, Julian Morrow, Chas Licciardello, Charles Firth, Chris Taylor, Andrew Hansen, Caleb (OC), Dr Rachel Hardy (OC), Antoinette Laurent (OC), Dr Samantha Reddings (OC), Dominic Knight, Shane Cubis, Gregor Stronach, Tim Brunero, Andy Lee
Pairings: Andrew/Chris; Adam/Hamish; Jules/Chas; Rachel/Antoinette(/Samantha); Adam/Seb; Adam/Wil; Craig/Caleb; Adam/Wil/Tim; Andrew/Craig, Wil/Chas; implied Tim/Craig, Hamish/Andy (after a fashion. XD)
Word Count: 4,136
Chapter: 31/31 [Previous]
Warnings: angst and grief, mostly
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
Author’s Notes: FYI, fullwing = winged human capable of flight. Halfwing = fullwing/human halfbreed, usually unable to fly, sometimes have vestigial wings, but can be removed to pass as human and not as winged.
Summary: Five years later, the war is finally over, and those that managed to survive try to get on with the the huge task o rebuilding a damaged nation.
Epilogue
Adam stood on the new foundations, watching the construction work before him. It had barely been three months since they'd finally won their country back. The conflict had been bloody and long, with the Indonesians proving more stubborn than the Chinese, who had been forced to withdraw once their resources ran out. But now, the building could begin again once the invaders had been sent packing. Overseas aid from the few countries still willing and able to send it had helped speed up the rebuilding process as displaced people searched for some sort of stability back in their lives again after years of conflict, though it was slow progress.
Adam had gotten out of it very lightly, he thought. He thought it was quite unfair that while he had sustained only superficial injuries, others had been killed, most in quite nasty circumstances. Some of them had been very close friends, which just made things worse. He hated burying the dead and inscribing their names on the wall. The sheer number of them was too much to handle some days. Hamish said he cared too much about everyone. Adam had thought it an insult, a weakness for a soldier, but Hamish had corrected him. What the world needed, he'd said, was more people who cared so much, otherwise they'd just keep on killing each other. Adam couldn't argue with that.
Hamish had almost been assassinated several times over the course of the battle. He'd dodged so many sniper bullets, Adam was convinced one day he wouldn't be so lucky. Hamish wasn't sure why he kept on surviving, but whatever was protecting him, he was glad of it. The last attempt had left him with a pronounced limp and a shattered patella. Neither Adam nor Hamish would quite work out why they'd been aiming at his knee in the first place, but he'd survived in spite of it all, and Adam was very glad about that. He still needed a cane to help him walk, but neither thought this was a bad thing, all things considered. Adam hoped they'd be able to fix his knee properly now that the fighting was over.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Adam said.
"That's one way of putting it, that's for sure. I'm glad it's finally over. So many died. Have we buried them all yet?" Hamish said.
"Some are still being identified. Bombs can do nasty things to a human body. Those identified have been laid to rest. We've set aside a special area of the Capital to bury them as a memorial to this bloody conflict. All the names from the old warehouse have been inscribed onto a wall nearby, including Seb's. It's fitting that they all should be remembered together. Did you get around to doing Andy's yet?" Adam said.
Hamish shifted, not wanting to remember he'd lost him. "Not yet. It's... too hard, you know? Means he's really gone. My scar hasn't itched since. It's not as comforting as I'd have liked. I don't suppose you've found his body, have you?"
"Not much hope of that, sorry. We did find these, though." Adam reached into his pocket and brought out Andy's dog tags. "I felt you might want them."
Hamish took them gratefully, feeling a small sense of peace. It wouldn't heal the grief, but at least he had something to connect to. His scar itched, just a little, and Hamish smiled. Maybe there was something to that whole life after death thing and Andy was still around somewhere. His hand closed around the dog tags and he fought back a tear.
"Thanks, Adam. Means a lot. I still wish he was alive to see this."
Adam brought an arm around his shoulders, bringing him close. "Me too, Ham. Me too. I wish no one had died, but that was hardly going to happen."
Hamish sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Doesn't mean it hurts any less though. I should've been leading that mission. I should've been killed, not him."
Adam turned to face him. "Don't beat yourself up over it. I've been there. It achieves nothing. It hurts to lose him, yes of course it does. You think I'm not grieving for everyone we lost? You think it doesn't hurt to write everyone's names on that wall? Because it does hurt. Every single day it hurts. But I have to keep on going. I've got the responsibility of bringing this country out of the ashes and back to life. We owe it to our dead to build a better country. Don't you think so?"
Hamish hissed as the scar on his palm began burning. Looking at his hand, there seemed to be no visible wound, and yet...
Adam looked at him curiously. "Scar hurting again, is it?"
"Burning. It's never hurt like this before," Hamish said.
"I keep telling you he's still around, don't I? I reckon he's letting you know he's got your back. Either that, or you've got a wound that needs looking after that you neglected to tell me about," Adam said with a grin. Hamish did manage a laugh, and Adam decided it was time to move onto slightly happier things. "Come on, let's go get Andy's name on the wall at last. I'm sure you'll feel better once you do that."
"Yeah, you're probably right, as usual. Come on, let's get it over with then. Lead the way, El Presidente," Hamish said, grinning at him.
Craig lay on his bed, staring at Caleb getting dressed after his shower. Craig had a grin the size of China on his face, eyes full of protective yearning. Caleb had managed to survive, and he and Craig had only found somewhere to live a few days ago. They'd moved their meagre possessions in and proceeded to spend that evening fucking in the place, making sure it had been properly welcomed and marked as theirs. It wasn't much of a house, small, quickly built, and kinda cold, but it was theirs, and it was better than the Army barracks they'd been living in previously.
"Hey, Caleb?" Craig said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?" Caleb said as he tried to decide between two shirts.
"I'm glad you're here with me," Craig said.
"Hey, it's nearly my 25th birthday. We going to do anything to celebrate?" Caleb said as he chose the second shirt, throwing the first back onto the bed.
"Probably. Why? Got something in mind?" Craig said.
Caleb, now dressed, slumped into the bed beside Craig, taking a hand in his. "I thought we might, you know, have some time to ourselves. I know it's not exactly easy now, but I think that would be nice. Might help give us a sense of normality," he said.
"Oh, right, a weekend away or something, yeah? Did you have anywhere in mind?" Craig said.
Caleb smiled and leaned in close to whisper in Craig's ear. Craig's eyes lit up with glee at the suggestion.
"Why, you kinky little bitch. Now that is a good idea," Craig said.
"I take it you agree then?" Caleb said.
"Oh, I agree, alright. I'll ravish you so badly, you'll be begging me to stop," Craig said.
"Don't get so cocky. I know how to make you pathetically submissive," Caleb said.
Craig let out a small whimper. "Yes, yes you do. You're the only one who's managed it though," he said.
"I'll consider that a compliment then," Caleb said. "Now, what shall we do today?"
"I have to go see Jules about a few things first, but I think we'll have the afternoon to ourselves. You coming with me?" Craig said as he got up and grabbed a couple of things from the bedside table.
"Of course. I'm not staying here by myself," Caleb said.
"Didn't think you would. Wanna fly there?" Craig said, lifting up the harness. He could still carry Caleb on short flights, though he found himself tiring faster. His recovery time was not what it was. He was getting old, at least by fullwing standards, and his body had taken quite a beating during his lifetime. Craig was sure he wouldn't be able to fly one day. He hoped he was dead before that happened. War had taken a hell of a lot out of him, which he didn't tell Caleb about for fear of being seen as weak.
"Don't think I haven't been able to tell how tired it makes you. We'll walk, alright?" Caleb said.
"Alright, we'll walk. It is a nice day, after all," Craig said, putting the harness away, secretly grateful for Caleb's rejection of his offer.
"Here. Take your cane. I can tell your knees are bad today," Caleb said, handing him the shiny black cane he'd managed to acquire during the war.
Craig winced, but he was glad he'd noticed. He'd never tell Caleb, but he did appreciate how much he looked out for him. Craig could be rather stubborn when it came to not appearing weak. He was thankful he only needed one cane though. One knee was substantially worse than the other, though both had taken quite a beating over time.
"Do I need to massage them again? I've still got some of that oil Wil gave me a while back," Caleb said.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. They are aching a bit," Craig said, sitting back on his bed.
Caleb grabbed the bottle of oil from the bedside table and knelt in front of Craig. "Here, slip your pants off. It'll be easier on them."
"Is this just an excuse to see me half-naked?" Craig said, obediently slipping his pants down as Caleb helps pull them free.
"Do I need an excuse to see you half-naked?" Caleb said, pouring some oil onto his hands before wrapping them around his left knee, gently massaging the inflamed tissue.
Craig smirked at him, relaxing almost instantly as Caleb tended to his knees. Caleb was good with his hands in more than just a sexual context. Craig always felt better after Caleb had massaged his knees.
Caleb finished by kissing his thighs and pushing him back onto the bed, lying on top of him as he kissed him. Craig held him back, suddenly wanting to stay there and not go out.
"I think Jules can wait, don't you think?" Craig murmured.
Caleb smirked and kissed him again, in no hurry to leave him be.
Julian held Chas' hand as he walked down the long winding path through the gravestones still standing. Half the cemetery had been destroyed by Chinese bombs, but of those that remained, the one most important grave had survived. Julian had begged to have his mother's body returned to him to bury after she had been murdered, but by all accounts, she had been burnt and her body destroyed. All he had been given were some feathers, a locket, and a bracelet, and that was what he buried in the small grave at the edge of the cemetery.
It wasn't much of a grave, all things considered. There, in the grass, was a bronze plaque with ancient writing on it. It was overgrown and untidy. A rabbit was grazing when they arrived. It hopped off as they approached. Julian had a bunch of flowers he'd picked from the roadside. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would do. The cut flower industry wasn't exactly a high priority right now. Chas stayed back as he watched Julian kneel before the grave and lay the flowers gently beside the plaque. Chas could tell he was crying.
"We fucking did it, mum. We did it. We're free. How I wish you were here to see us now," Julian murmured.
Chas rested a hand on his shoulder, remaining silent. Julian got out a small pocket knife and began cutting the grass away from the plaque so it could be seen again. There was a small plastic tube stuck in the ground on one side that could be used to hold flowers. Julian cleaned up the grave with tenderness and care, scraping moss and lichen from the bronze metal and cutting a crisp edge around it. The flowers he'd brought were arranged delicately and a dash of water poured in the tube to sustain both the flowers and the grave.
Julian knelt, his hands resting on his thighs. Chas knelt beside him, reaching over to grab his hand gently.
"I'm sure she's bloody proud of you. You're a hero. None of this would've happened without your organisation. You were able to pull that initial rebellion together in a way that no one else was able to. Without you, this would never have happened. I think you should be our first new President. I think you'd do an excellent job," Chas said.
"Me? President? Nah, not my thing. But I'll be there, ready to help out where I can. I'm so glad you're still here with me. I don't think I'd have been able to cope if you'd died in combat," Julian said.
Chas cuddled up to him and nestled his head into his neck. "Came close a few times though. I managed to pull through. Not even having my plane shot down and crashing into jungle could kill me. Fuck, I'm a lucky guy."
"I was so worried when Adam told me you'd been shot down. I got Adam's leave to run to your side. When we finally found you, and you were alive, I've never been happier in my life. I knew I should never have let you go off on your own like that," Julian said.
"Hey, I'm a big boy. I know how to look after myself. Not my fault that Indonesian bastard snuck up on me. I'd taken out four planes before he came along and spoiled my record. Fucker. But I was back in a plane two months later and finally beat my 6 plane record. I showed them, the fuckers," Chas said.
"I should've known I'd never be able to keep you grounded," Julian said.
"It'll take more than your protective streak to keep me out of a plane, Julian. Why didn't you want to rejoin the Air Force with me anyway? They promoted you and everything," Chas said.
"I'm too old for all that now. I appreciate the recognition, but it's not for me, not anymore. I've seen more than enough war for one lifetime. But if you want to keep flying, I won't stop you. Just don't get yourself shot down again," Julian said.
"I won't. I'm not really doing much flying anymore anyway. I am a Wing Commander now," Chas said.
"The best damn Wing Commander ever," Julian said.
"I look after my boys, just like I look after you," Chas said, pulling Julian into a gentle kiss.
"I wish mum had met you. I think she'd love you. Pity all my family's gone now. I never saw them again after she died," Julian said, sadness creeping into his voice again.
"Did they kick you out? I don't think you ever told me," Chas said.
"They blamed me. Told me I should've been stronger and taken mum's place. She wouldn't have let me even if I'd suggested it. I was left for dead. I was taken in by a family from my school. It meant I could finish my education and get into the cadets programme, like everyone else. That meant I could survive. Without that, I'd have died on the streets," Julian said. He sniffed as he fought back tears again. "I wish I still had some photos of her. I can't really remember what she looked like anymore. Apart from her wings. I'm sorry, mum. I didn't mean to forget you."
Chas wrapped his arms around his shoulders and brought him close. Julian wept, the pain still as raw and aching as it had been when he was fourteen.
Chris, Craig, Julian and Chas found themselves at the hospital again. Andrew had managed to survive the shrapnel, but his mind had required more than just physical healing. He was still here, five years later. Chris hoped that he would improve faster now that the conflict was over and the hospital wasn't being bombed every few months.
Andrew was at the window again, overlooking the newly planted gardens. Chris smiled as he saw him in his stripy pyjamas he'd taken a liking to since Chris had bought them for him last Christmas. It hadn't been much, but it was one of the days when the conflict was at a low ebb and Chris felt safe visiting him. Andrew was happier then than he'd been for a long time, and to have received a gift, even if it was just stripy pyjamas, meant the world to him.
Chris walked up to him and stood beside him, a hand unconsciously resting on top of Andrew's as they looked over the view below. Chris was sure he would always love Andrew, no matter what happened. He was convinced it was only because of his devotion in coming to see him as often as he did that Andrew was still hanging on and getting better. Chris gave him something to live for.
"I like it when you visit. I feel less… alone. And it's quieter, up there, you know?" Andrew murmured, gesturing vaguely at his head.
"So you're doing alright then?" Chris said quietly, matching Andrew's tone.
"I think so, yeah. They're not in control anymore. The voices, I mean. Every day they get softer. Hopefully, they'll be gone one day," Andrew said. "You don't stay long enough. I wish you'd come more often. I miss you so much. I asked them if you could stay with me, but they said no. They-they don't want you getting hurt."
Chris cringed at the disappointment in his voice. He came as often as he could, but apparently, it still wasn't enough. "I wish I could stay with you all the time, but we've got so much work to do. I try and see you when I can. I miss you. When are you getting out of here? It seems like you've been here forever," Chris said.
"Soon, I hope. I'm getting sick of these walls, especially when I can't be with you," Andrew said. "Shall we go for a walk? I'm allowed in the gardens all by myself now," he said as he turned to look at Chris.
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds nice," Chris said.
Andrew smiled and took his hand. "Come on, this way, precious," he half-sang as he led him outside.
The others followed behind them, holding back until Chris said they could talk to him. It was a nice day, and the gardens brimming with new life. Andrew led Chris to the new pond, sitting down on the grass under a tree. Chris and the others joined him, Chris still holding Andrew's hand tightly.
"Can we have a pond when I get out of here? I like it. It's calming," Andrew said.
"Sure, we can have anything you want, precious," Chris said, kissing the back of Andrew's hand gently as if to seal his promise.
"And fish. I'd like some fish to look after, and maybe a puppy," Andrew said.
Chas couldn't resist the offer and crawled over to Andrew, butting his free hand with his nose in a bid to gain attention. Andrew smiled and looked down at him, stroking a hand through his hair. It was comforting to feel another person like that.
"Sorry, Chassy, I forgot I already got a puppy," Andrew said with a grin.
Chassy nuzzled his way next to Andrew, who wrapped his arm around his back. Chassy licked Andrew's face playfully, sending everyone into fits of laughter as Andrew tried to fend him off. Andrew found himself on his back as Chassy pinned him down. Chris sat there watching as Craig tried to join in, tickling Andrew as best he could. Chris marvelled that Andrew was laughing, and not just half-arsed laughter, but the happiest, most genuine laughter he'd heard from him in years. Maybe he would be out soon after all.
Chris watched Andrew playing fetch with Chassy, with the others trying to find the most bizarre things for Chassy to fetch, from shoes, sticks, and bark to clothing and anything else they could find.
Wil sat in a bar, happy to be able to drink again. He'd missed his alcohol during the conflict, and had been at the bars as soon as they'd reopened a few days ago. Just downing his fourth beer, someone decided to interrupt him.
"Hey, you gonna sit in here drinking all night? I wanna play," came a very familiar voice as an accompanying hand landed on his shoulder.
Wil turned to see who had turned up. "Hey, I haven't had a decent drink for… I dunno, but is a very long time ago, so leave me alone, Tim," Wil said, wincing at how drunk he sounded.
"So my baby won't come home, not even for playtime? I've got beer back at my place, you know," Tim said, trying to encourage him.
"You gonna tie me up again?" Wil muttered in a small voice so the rest of the bar wouldn't hear him. He didn't like proclaiming his desires to an entire room full of strangers, not when Tim was being so enticing and distracting and why did he have to be using his tongue like that? Wil was getting annoyed with him. Ever since they'd finally gotten together, Tim had been teasing him constantly, and Wil was almost sick of it, in an 'I can't get enough of it' kinda way.
"I'll do whatever you want, love," Tim whispered.
Wil shivered. Now that did sound promising. He sculled his beer and got to his feet. "Home it is then," he said.
Tim chuckled and led him out by the arm.
Andrew was always slightly sad when Chris had to leave, but it did mean he could have a bit of quiet time. He remained outside in the gardens, just walking slowly as the sun set around him. The ducks were settling down for the night and the wind was beginning to pick up. Just as he headed towards the trees at the back of the gardens, he saw someone sitting on one of the benches. Andrew didn't remember seeing him there before and approached him, taking a seat next to him. Looking over at him, Andrew was surprised to see Charles sitting there, a small photo frame held in one hand that contained an old photo of Dom. Charles gazed off into the distance, his face expressionless.
"Hey. I didn't think you'd need a place like this. You okay?" Andrew said.
"If I was okay, I wouldn't be here," Charles murmured.
Andrew shifted to face him. "What happened?"
"Everything happened. My mind has been destroyed. I haven't slept for weeks."
Charles looked at him, and then Andrew understood. He shifted close to him encouraged Charles to wrap an arm around him. "It'll be alright. You've got me now. I understand, even if no one else does."
Charles wanted to cry. The photo fell to the ground and Charles hugged him tight. "I... I don't know how to feel anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see them. Everyone who died. Everyone I killed. I'm scared."
"You're a soldier. You think I haven't been through the same thing? You wouldn't believe the nightmares I've had, not at all. There are times I'm grateful for the gaps in my memory." Andrew closed his eyes a moment as he pushed aside a dream remnant he didn't particularly want to revisit.
"But you had it so much worse than me. What excuse do I have for this?" Charles stared at the ground and kicked a clump of grass with his foot.
"I know what you've been through. You'd better not give up on me now. I kinda like having you around," Andrew said.
Charles didn't speak. He hadn't exactly been planning to kill himself, but he'd been a few drinks away from trying when he'd been dragged here by Chas a few weeks ago. He'd found it a difficult atmosphere to be in. There were too many broken soldiers around, the remnants of great soldiers who had been destroyed by what they'd been forced to do. If it was supposed to make Charles feel better, all it did was make him depressed. He pressed a soft kiss to Andrew's head and wondered what else he could do. Healing meant confronting the nightmares in his head and he wasn't sure he was strong enough for that yet. But maybe... But maybe with Andrew by his side, he might have a chance of getting there one day.
Author: Sashataakheru
Beta: The wonderful
rana_narsilion <3Fandom: The Chaser/AusComedy RPS
Starring: Adam Hills, Sepulchre (OC), Wil Anderson, Hamish Blake, Craig Reucassel, Tim Minchin, Julian Morrow, Chas Licciardello, Charles Firth, Chris Taylor, Andrew Hansen, Caleb (OC), Dr Rachel Hardy (OC), Antoinette Laurent (OC), Dr Samantha Reddings (OC), Dominic Knight, Shane Cubis, Gregor Stronach, Tim Brunero, Andy Lee
Pairings: Andrew/Chris; Adam/Hamish; Jules/Chas; Rachel/Antoinette(/Samantha); Adam/Seb; Adam/Wil; Craig/Caleb; Adam/Wil/Tim; Andrew/Craig, Wil/Chas; implied Tim/Craig, Hamish/Andy (after a fashion. XD)
Word Count: 4,136
Chapter: 31/31 [Previous]
Warnings: angst and grief, mostly
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
Author’s Notes: FYI, fullwing = winged human capable of flight. Halfwing = fullwing/human halfbreed, usually unable to fly, sometimes have vestigial wings, but can be removed to pass as human and not as winged.
Summary: Five years later, the war is finally over, and those that managed to survive try to get on with the the huge task o rebuilding a damaged nation.
Epilogue
Adam stood on the new foundations, watching the construction work before him. It had barely been three months since they'd finally won their country back. The conflict had been bloody and long, with the Indonesians proving more stubborn than the Chinese, who had been forced to withdraw once their resources ran out. But now, the building could begin again once the invaders had been sent packing. Overseas aid from the few countries still willing and able to send it had helped speed up the rebuilding process as displaced people searched for some sort of stability back in their lives again after years of conflict, though it was slow progress.
Adam had gotten out of it very lightly, he thought. He thought it was quite unfair that while he had sustained only superficial injuries, others had been killed, most in quite nasty circumstances. Some of them had been very close friends, which just made things worse. He hated burying the dead and inscribing their names on the wall. The sheer number of them was too much to handle some days. Hamish said he cared too much about everyone. Adam had thought it an insult, a weakness for a soldier, but Hamish had corrected him. What the world needed, he'd said, was more people who cared so much, otherwise they'd just keep on killing each other. Adam couldn't argue with that.
Hamish had almost been assassinated several times over the course of the battle. He'd dodged so many sniper bullets, Adam was convinced one day he wouldn't be so lucky. Hamish wasn't sure why he kept on surviving, but whatever was protecting him, he was glad of it. The last attempt had left him with a pronounced limp and a shattered patella. Neither Adam nor Hamish would quite work out why they'd been aiming at his knee in the first place, but he'd survived in spite of it all, and Adam was very glad about that. He still needed a cane to help him walk, but neither thought this was a bad thing, all things considered. Adam hoped they'd be able to fix his knee properly now that the fighting was over.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Adam said.
"That's one way of putting it, that's for sure. I'm glad it's finally over. So many died. Have we buried them all yet?" Hamish said.
"Some are still being identified. Bombs can do nasty things to a human body. Those identified have been laid to rest. We've set aside a special area of the Capital to bury them as a memorial to this bloody conflict. All the names from the old warehouse have been inscribed onto a wall nearby, including Seb's. It's fitting that they all should be remembered together. Did you get around to doing Andy's yet?" Adam said.
Hamish shifted, not wanting to remember he'd lost him. "Not yet. It's... too hard, you know? Means he's really gone. My scar hasn't itched since. It's not as comforting as I'd have liked. I don't suppose you've found his body, have you?"
"Not much hope of that, sorry. We did find these, though." Adam reached into his pocket and brought out Andy's dog tags. "I felt you might want them."
Hamish took them gratefully, feeling a small sense of peace. It wouldn't heal the grief, but at least he had something to connect to. His scar itched, just a little, and Hamish smiled. Maybe there was something to that whole life after death thing and Andy was still around somewhere. His hand closed around the dog tags and he fought back a tear.
"Thanks, Adam. Means a lot. I still wish he was alive to see this."
Adam brought an arm around his shoulders, bringing him close. "Me too, Ham. Me too. I wish no one had died, but that was hardly going to happen."
Hamish sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Doesn't mean it hurts any less though. I should've been leading that mission. I should've been killed, not him."
Adam turned to face him. "Don't beat yourself up over it. I've been there. It achieves nothing. It hurts to lose him, yes of course it does. You think I'm not grieving for everyone we lost? You think it doesn't hurt to write everyone's names on that wall? Because it does hurt. Every single day it hurts. But I have to keep on going. I've got the responsibility of bringing this country out of the ashes and back to life. We owe it to our dead to build a better country. Don't you think so?"
Hamish hissed as the scar on his palm began burning. Looking at his hand, there seemed to be no visible wound, and yet...
Adam looked at him curiously. "Scar hurting again, is it?"
"Burning. It's never hurt like this before," Hamish said.
"I keep telling you he's still around, don't I? I reckon he's letting you know he's got your back. Either that, or you've got a wound that needs looking after that you neglected to tell me about," Adam said with a grin. Hamish did manage a laugh, and Adam decided it was time to move onto slightly happier things. "Come on, let's go get Andy's name on the wall at last. I'm sure you'll feel better once you do that."
"Yeah, you're probably right, as usual. Come on, let's get it over with then. Lead the way, El Presidente," Hamish said, grinning at him.
Craig lay on his bed, staring at Caleb getting dressed after his shower. Craig had a grin the size of China on his face, eyes full of protective yearning. Caleb had managed to survive, and he and Craig had only found somewhere to live a few days ago. They'd moved their meagre possessions in and proceeded to spend that evening fucking in the place, making sure it had been properly welcomed and marked as theirs. It wasn't much of a house, small, quickly built, and kinda cold, but it was theirs, and it was better than the Army barracks they'd been living in previously.
"Hey, Caleb?" Craig said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?" Caleb said as he tried to decide between two shirts.
"I'm glad you're here with me," Craig said.
"Hey, it's nearly my 25th birthday. We going to do anything to celebrate?" Caleb said as he chose the second shirt, throwing the first back onto the bed.
"Probably. Why? Got something in mind?" Craig said.
Caleb, now dressed, slumped into the bed beside Craig, taking a hand in his. "I thought we might, you know, have some time to ourselves. I know it's not exactly easy now, but I think that would be nice. Might help give us a sense of normality," he said.
"Oh, right, a weekend away or something, yeah? Did you have anywhere in mind?" Craig said.
Caleb smiled and leaned in close to whisper in Craig's ear. Craig's eyes lit up with glee at the suggestion.
"Why, you kinky little bitch. Now that is a good idea," Craig said.
"I take it you agree then?" Caleb said.
"Oh, I agree, alright. I'll ravish you so badly, you'll be begging me to stop," Craig said.
"Don't get so cocky. I know how to make you pathetically submissive," Caleb said.
Craig let out a small whimper. "Yes, yes you do. You're the only one who's managed it though," he said.
"I'll consider that a compliment then," Caleb said. "Now, what shall we do today?"
"I have to go see Jules about a few things first, but I think we'll have the afternoon to ourselves. You coming with me?" Craig said as he got up and grabbed a couple of things from the bedside table.
"Of course. I'm not staying here by myself," Caleb said.
"Didn't think you would. Wanna fly there?" Craig said, lifting up the harness. He could still carry Caleb on short flights, though he found himself tiring faster. His recovery time was not what it was. He was getting old, at least by fullwing standards, and his body had taken quite a beating during his lifetime. Craig was sure he wouldn't be able to fly one day. He hoped he was dead before that happened. War had taken a hell of a lot out of him, which he didn't tell Caleb about for fear of being seen as weak.
"Don't think I haven't been able to tell how tired it makes you. We'll walk, alright?" Caleb said.
"Alright, we'll walk. It is a nice day, after all," Craig said, putting the harness away, secretly grateful for Caleb's rejection of his offer.
"Here. Take your cane. I can tell your knees are bad today," Caleb said, handing him the shiny black cane he'd managed to acquire during the war.
Craig winced, but he was glad he'd noticed. He'd never tell Caleb, but he did appreciate how much he looked out for him. Craig could be rather stubborn when it came to not appearing weak. He was thankful he only needed one cane though. One knee was substantially worse than the other, though both had taken quite a beating over time.
"Do I need to massage them again? I've still got some of that oil Wil gave me a while back," Caleb said.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. They are aching a bit," Craig said, sitting back on his bed.
Caleb grabbed the bottle of oil from the bedside table and knelt in front of Craig. "Here, slip your pants off. It'll be easier on them."
"Is this just an excuse to see me half-naked?" Craig said, obediently slipping his pants down as Caleb helps pull them free.
"Do I need an excuse to see you half-naked?" Caleb said, pouring some oil onto his hands before wrapping them around his left knee, gently massaging the inflamed tissue.
Craig smirked at him, relaxing almost instantly as Caleb tended to his knees. Caleb was good with his hands in more than just a sexual context. Craig always felt better after Caleb had massaged his knees.
Caleb finished by kissing his thighs and pushing him back onto the bed, lying on top of him as he kissed him. Craig held him back, suddenly wanting to stay there and not go out.
"I think Jules can wait, don't you think?" Craig murmured.
Caleb smirked and kissed him again, in no hurry to leave him be.
Julian held Chas' hand as he walked down the long winding path through the gravestones still standing. Half the cemetery had been destroyed by Chinese bombs, but of those that remained, the one most important grave had survived. Julian had begged to have his mother's body returned to him to bury after she had been murdered, but by all accounts, she had been burnt and her body destroyed. All he had been given were some feathers, a locket, and a bracelet, and that was what he buried in the small grave at the edge of the cemetery.
It wasn't much of a grave, all things considered. There, in the grass, was a bronze plaque with ancient writing on it. It was overgrown and untidy. A rabbit was grazing when they arrived. It hopped off as they approached. Julian had a bunch of flowers he'd picked from the roadside. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would do. The cut flower industry wasn't exactly a high priority right now. Chas stayed back as he watched Julian kneel before the grave and lay the flowers gently beside the plaque. Chas could tell he was crying.
"We fucking did it, mum. We did it. We're free. How I wish you were here to see us now," Julian murmured.
Chas rested a hand on his shoulder, remaining silent. Julian got out a small pocket knife and began cutting the grass away from the plaque so it could be seen again. There was a small plastic tube stuck in the ground on one side that could be used to hold flowers. Julian cleaned up the grave with tenderness and care, scraping moss and lichen from the bronze metal and cutting a crisp edge around it. The flowers he'd brought were arranged delicately and a dash of water poured in the tube to sustain both the flowers and the grave.
Julian knelt, his hands resting on his thighs. Chas knelt beside him, reaching over to grab his hand gently.
"I'm sure she's bloody proud of you. You're a hero. None of this would've happened without your organisation. You were able to pull that initial rebellion together in a way that no one else was able to. Without you, this would never have happened. I think you should be our first new President. I think you'd do an excellent job," Chas said.
"Me? President? Nah, not my thing. But I'll be there, ready to help out where I can. I'm so glad you're still here with me. I don't think I'd have been able to cope if you'd died in combat," Julian said.
Chas cuddled up to him and nestled his head into his neck. "Came close a few times though. I managed to pull through. Not even having my plane shot down and crashing into jungle could kill me. Fuck, I'm a lucky guy."
"I was so worried when Adam told me you'd been shot down. I got Adam's leave to run to your side. When we finally found you, and you were alive, I've never been happier in my life. I knew I should never have let you go off on your own like that," Julian said.
"Hey, I'm a big boy. I know how to look after myself. Not my fault that Indonesian bastard snuck up on me. I'd taken out four planes before he came along and spoiled my record. Fucker. But I was back in a plane two months later and finally beat my 6 plane record. I showed them, the fuckers," Chas said.
"I should've known I'd never be able to keep you grounded," Julian said.
"It'll take more than your protective streak to keep me out of a plane, Julian. Why didn't you want to rejoin the Air Force with me anyway? They promoted you and everything," Chas said.
"I'm too old for all that now. I appreciate the recognition, but it's not for me, not anymore. I've seen more than enough war for one lifetime. But if you want to keep flying, I won't stop you. Just don't get yourself shot down again," Julian said.
"I won't. I'm not really doing much flying anymore anyway. I am a Wing Commander now," Chas said.
"The best damn Wing Commander ever," Julian said.
"I look after my boys, just like I look after you," Chas said, pulling Julian into a gentle kiss.
"I wish mum had met you. I think she'd love you. Pity all my family's gone now. I never saw them again after she died," Julian said, sadness creeping into his voice again.
"Did they kick you out? I don't think you ever told me," Chas said.
"They blamed me. Told me I should've been stronger and taken mum's place. She wouldn't have let me even if I'd suggested it. I was left for dead. I was taken in by a family from my school. It meant I could finish my education and get into the cadets programme, like everyone else. That meant I could survive. Without that, I'd have died on the streets," Julian said. He sniffed as he fought back tears again. "I wish I still had some photos of her. I can't really remember what she looked like anymore. Apart from her wings. I'm sorry, mum. I didn't mean to forget you."
Chas wrapped his arms around his shoulders and brought him close. Julian wept, the pain still as raw and aching as it had been when he was fourteen.
Chris, Craig, Julian and Chas found themselves at the hospital again. Andrew had managed to survive the shrapnel, but his mind had required more than just physical healing. He was still here, five years later. Chris hoped that he would improve faster now that the conflict was over and the hospital wasn't being bombed every few months.
Andrew was at the window again, overlooking the newly planted gardens. Chris smiled as he saw him in his stripy pyjamas he'd taken a liking to since Chris had bought them for him last Christmas. It hadn't been much, but it was one of the days when the conflict was at a low ebb and Chris felt safe visiting him. Andrew was happier then than he'd been for a long time, and to have received a gift, even if it was just stripy pyjamas, meant the world to him.
Chris walked up to him and stood beside him, a hand unconsciously resting on top of Andrew's as they looked over the view below. Chris was sure he would always love Andrew, no matter what happened. He was convinced it was only because of his devotion in coming to see him as often as he did that Andrew was still hanging on and getting better. Chris gave him something to live for.
"I like it when you visit. I feel less… alone. And it's quieter, up there, you know?" Andrew murmured, gesturing vaguely at his head.
"So you're doing alright then?" Chris said quietly, matching Andrew's tone.
"I think so, yeah. They're not in control anymore. The voices, I mean. Every day they get softer. Hopefully, they'll be gone one day," Andrew said. "You don't stay long enough. I wish you'd come more often. I miss you so much. I asked them if you could stay with me, but they said no. They-they don't want you getting hurt."
Chris cringed at the disappointment in his voice. He came as often as he could, but apparently, it still wasn't enough. "I wish I could stay with you all the time, but we've got so much work to do. I try and see you when I can. I miss you. When are you getting out of here? It seems like you've been here forever," Chris said.
"Soon, I hope. I'm getting sick of these walls, especially when I can't be with you," Andrew said. "Shall we go for a walk? I'm allowed in the gardens all by myself now," he said as he turned to look at Chris.
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds nice," Chris said.
Andrew smiled and took his hand. "Come on, this way, precious," he half-sang as he led him outside.
The others followed behind them, holding back until Chris said they could talk to him. It was a nice day, and the gardens brimming with new life. Andrew led Chris to the new pond, sitting down on the grass under a tree. Chris and the others joined him, Chris still holding Andrew's hand tightly.
"Can we have a pond when I get out of here? I like it. It's calming," Andrew said.
"Sure, we can have anything you want, precious," Chris said, kissing the back of Andrew's hand gently as if to seal his promise.
"And fish. I'd like some fish to look after, and maybe a puppy," Andrew said.
Chas couldn't resist the offer and crawled over to Andrew, butting his free hand with his nose in a bid to gain attention. Andrew smiled and looked down at him, stroking a hand through his hair. It was comforting to feel another person like that.
"Sorry, Chassy, I forgot I already got a puppy," Andrew said with a grin.
Chassy nuzzled his way next to Andrew, who wrapped his arm around his back. Chassy licked Andrew's face playfully, sending everyone into fits of laughter as Andrew tried to fend him off. Andrew found himself on his back as Chassy pinned him down. Chris sat there watching as Craig tried to join in, tickling Andrew as best he could. Chris marvelled that Andrew was laughing, and not just half-arsed laughter, but the happiest, most genuine laughter he'd heard from him in years. Maybe he would be out soon after all.
Chris watched Andrew playing fetch with Chassy, with the others trying to find the most bizarre things for Chassy to fetch, from shoes, sticks, and bark to clothing and anything else they could find.
Wil sat in a bar, happy to be able to drink again. He'd missed his alcohol during the conflict, and had been at the bars as soon as they'd reopened a few days ago. Just downing his fourth beer, someone decided to interrupt him.
"Hey, you gonna sit in here drinking all night? I wanna play," came a very familiar voice as an accompanying hand landed on his shoulder.
Wil turned to see who had turned up. "Hey, I haven't had a decent drink for… I dunno, but is a very long time ago, so leave me alone, Tim," Wil said, wincing at how drunk he sounded.
"So my baby won't come home, not even for playtime? I've got beer back at my place, you know," Tim said, trying to encourage him.
"You gonna tie me up again?" Wil muttered in a small voice so the rest of the bar wouldn't hear him. He didn't like proclaiming his desires to an entire room full of strangers, not when Tim was being so enticing and distracting and why did he have to be using his tongue like that? Wil was getting annoyed with him. Ever since they'd finally gotten together, Tim had been teasing him constantly, and Wil was almost sick of it, in an 'I can't get enough of it' kinda way.
"I'll do whatever you want, love," Tim whispered.
Wil shivered. Now that did sound promising. He sculled his beer and got to his feet. "Home it is then," he said.
Tim chuckled and led him out by the arm.
Andrew was always slightly sad when Chris had to leave, but it did mean he could have a bit of quiet time. He remained outside in the gardens, just walking slowly as the sun set around him. The ducks were settling down for the night and the wind was beginning to pick up. Just as he headed towards the trees at the back of the gardens, he saw someone sitting on one of the benches. Andrew didn't remember seeing him there before and approached him, taking a seat next to him. Looking over at him, Andrew was surprised to see Charles sitting there, a small photo frame held in one hand that contained an old photo of Dom. Charles gazed off into the distance, his face expressionless.
"Hey. I didn't think you'd need a place like this. You okay?" Andrew said.
"If I was okay, I wouldn't be here," Charles murmured.
Andrew shifted to face him. "What happened?"
"Everything happened. My mind has been destroyed. I haven't slept for weeks."
Charles looked at him, and then Andrew understood. He shifted close to him encouraged Charles to wrap an arm around him. "It'll be alright. You've got me now. I understand, even if no one else does."
Charles wanted to cry. The photo fell to the ground and Charles hugged him tight. "I... I don't know how to feel anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see them. Everyone who died. Everyone I killed. I'm scared."
"You're a soldier. You think I haven't been through the same thing? You wouldn't believe the nightmares I've had, not at all. There are times I'm grateful for the gaps in my memory." Andrew closed his eyes a moment as he pushed aside a dream remnant he didn't particularly want to revisit.
"But you had it so much worse than me. What excuse do I have for this?" Charles stared at the ground and kicked a clump of grass with his foot.
"I know what you've been through. You'd better not give up on me now. I kinda like having you around," Andrew said.
Charles didn't speak. He hadn't exactly been planning to kill himself, but he'd been a few drinks away from trying when he'd been dragged here by Chas a few weeks ago. He'd found it a difficult atmosphere to be in. There were too many broken soldiers around, the remnants of great soldiers who had been destroyed by what they'd been forced to do. If it was supposed to make Charles feel better, all it did was make him depressed. He pressed a soft kiss to Andrew's head and wondered what else he could do. Healing meant confronting the nightmares in his head and he wasn't sure he was strong enough for that yet. But maybe... But maybe with Andrew by his side, he might have a chance of getting there one day.