#server verse things

Every time he looked at Jason he felt more and more certain of the thought. It had landed just a few days ago, and it stubbornly refused to give room for much else. Kept echoing louder and louder, begging him to act on it. Jake frankly knew better than to do just that. Could hear Javy’s tone telling him to think more than twice about it ( he had thought about maybe five times if not more already ), could picture Penny’s face if he talked to her about it, could just as easily imagine the outrage of his family if they knew he even had the thought. Yet the thought remained. Persisted. 

Even with a day as busy as this one; filled with planning and prepping and cooking, and frankly all of it being fun things… The thought kept loudly reminding him that it wasn’t a bad idea at all. In fact it was a fantastic idea. 

Naturally he didn’t have a ring, not many good things to make one out of. What did have was the paracord bracelet and kitchen knives. Unwrapping a part of the cord he could easily cut it off and with a knot there was undoubtedly a ring. Not the most classy or most expensive one, but it was a ring all the same. The fact that Goose had observed him the whole time, and not said a word was something to dwell on at a later time, because the sound of Jason’s car stole the whole of Jake’s attention in a heartbeat.

Dropping everything ( except the newly made ring ) Jake literally ran across the beach, meeting Jason before the man even put his feet on the sand. Arms wrapped around him so tightly to really feel him being there, while his smile was as bright as the sun. For the longest of moments the hug lasted, letting them have a piece of the day to themselves even in the company of his squad. 

Leaning back Jake moved his hands to cup Jason’s face, allowing him even better access to cover the whole of his face with kisses, aiming to make the other laugh and only actually kissing him once the laughter could be heard.

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. 

A mission is a mission is a mission. 

It goes like a mantra in Jake’s head. Had been going over and over for the past few days whenever silence wrapped around him like a blanket. Mostly it was quiet, like a low hum in the back. But the closer the day came the louder it got, and by now he could clearly hear the words.

By no means did he need the alarm which was set to 4:30 every single day. He woke up well before it rang either way. Green eyes stayed glued to the ceiling which was barely visible in the dark. Still he could make out some shapes, where it slanted and where it evened out. Similarly, he could hear the breathing coming from next to him on the bed, but only so barely. Drowned by the mantra that was as familiar as his flight suit.

A mission is a mission is a mission. 

Without thinking he got out of bed, moving purely by automatic habit. Silent steps took him to the closet, finding a familiar outfit used many other times for when he went running. Somehow they felt heavier this time. The drawer for his socks cracked just enough to ruin the calm of the bedroom. It made him almost snap from the daze which held him so tight. It snapped him just enough when a soft grunt followed, which wasn’t his own but instead came from the bed.

Turning towards the large bed, seeing Jason in the dim light of the moon, features as soft as marble and as if cut by the skilled hands of an artist. Taking a small step closer he considered waking him up. Considered breaking the pattern of his own habits just enough to depend on someone. Yet there was comfort in the familiarity of habits being just that; habits. 

A mission is a mission is a mission. 

Seeing a hand move from the tangle of pillows and sheets, stretching out in his own direction. It was more than enough to make him cave. Soft steps brought him closer until he could sink down next to the bed. Knees hitting the floor with a light thud as his chin rested on top of the bed. Hand found hand, easily slotting into places with fingers fitting together as if made from the same cloth. 

“I think I meant it.” His words were barely even audible. Afraid he might be heard by himself more so than Jason. Pulling the hand closer he let his lips rest against the warm knuckles. Soaking in the small bit of contact he allowed himself. “Yeah, I did.” 

Looking back up he noticed the tiered eyes that seemed to fight the whole of the world to stay open. Lips curled into a tired smile had Jake’s heart swelling in ways he previously didn’t know was even possible. "... it would suck so bad to not come home to you now." Words remained at a low volume, but far easier to make out now as he actually addressed Jason.

"It would. so make sure you do."

The words rang louder than any mantra Jake ever could have come up with on his own. Leaning in over the edges of the bed, after having allowed their hands to get not just one but three kisses. His free hand grasped the side of Jason’s neck, gently holding him as he leaned in to kiss him. 

A mission is a mission is a mission. 

Green eyes met blue as he pulled back, attempting to gauge what this was as far as situations go. Was this a moment he couldn’t pass on? The one he might regret waiting for if he didn’t act now? It felt like it.