server verse mission weekend things! featuring: @bonvievant & @ltcoyote
If he doesn’t think about it Jake can almost make sense of the weekend. If he breaks it down to numbers he can almost make it to a clear headspace. He remembers the time they boarded the transport. He remembers the amount of seats that were filled and the amount which were empty. The time he stepped out onto the flight deck when they landed. The amount of jets on the flight deck. The amount of bunks in their dorm. The amount of hours spent awake, unable to sleep. The time for the briefing. The amount selected for the mission. The amount of minutes spent hoping the world would stop and go black, maybe even rewind. The amount of call outs on the coms. The amount of daggers hit by enemy fire. The amount of times he requested launch. The amount of times he was denied launch. The number of people he pulled rank on to launch anyway.
He will remember the fear in his own voice to the day he dies as he demanded launch from the poor souls surrounding his jet. “Do you want them alive or dead? Launch me!” His voice had been breaking even without the sheer volume added to it. It must have been the fastest launch he’d ever experienced, what with literally working against the clock. The stress was still bone deep by the time the enemy aircraft was in pieces. His voice carried so much better this time when he spoke, sas covering up every single crack in the shiny armour.
Breaking chain of command may not have been his finest moment, but it certainly helped lead up to what could very well be the best moment of his life; Seeing the old f-14 safe and sound even after a net catch. Whatever aftermath came of that he was more than ready to take, happily so. Because at least they were alive. They could yell at him all they liked, but at least they could do it.
The numb feeling of adrenaline leaving his system had him completely void of feelings as he climbed out of his yet, still numb by the time he shook Rooster’s hand, and it remained even as he walked away from the crowd. It lasted well through getting cleared by the medics, well through the debrief. It almost felt like a comfort. Like a blanket that kept him safe even as he knew better than that.
Finding a room that was loud enough, yet empty of people. Was easy enough when he had spent so much time on a carrier before. It also meant Javy knew where to find him because Javy knew the amount of places where he could be. Silence was allowed to prosper, it always was for the two of them. And Jake was thankful for it. He didn’t have words, even in the cases when he needed them.
If he stuck to numbers, he could make it home. The amount of time they spent in silence. The amount of messages he ignored on his phone. The amount he sent back to Jason. The number of people he didn’t even see when they passed him by. The number of forkfuls of food he could manage before Javy allowed him to stop. The amount of time spent avoiding everyone else. The number of stairs he had to go up and down. The amount of steps between his bunk and the door. The amount of time until they could leave. The amount of seats filled on the transport. The amount left empty. The amount of hours spent in a loud yet silent transport until they landed back on US soil. The number of people he politely had to speak to to avoid them better, so that he could go home.
The folder of the End was in his hand when he stepped out onto the parking lot. The folder that held his will, and other important things. The folder that stayed in Javy’s locker every time it wasn’t in his own possession. He really wished he had had both hands free when he stepped out onto the parking lot.
Seeing Jason somehow brought colour back to the world. The world still stayed out of focus, and even Javy melted into the background noise, into the fog which Jake couldn’t focus on at all. But there was colour. Not in the “all the bad drains out of you in a sigh of relief” kind of way, but in a “I am finally seeing the emergency exit lies through the smoke” kind of way. Like he was finally seeing a lifeline he so desperately needed.
Heavy steps brought him closer until he could wrap his arms around Jason, being seen by everyone else didn’t matter. His head rested heavily on top of Jason’s, arms felt as if filled with lead as he held him close, trying his best to not let gravity win this once.
He could make it if he focused on the numbers. The number of words that echoed louder than any missile, any alarm of warning, or crackling coms channel. Three words.
