#john bucky

[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽

▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎

»»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴 — 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍'𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧

𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩

𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱...

—ᴸᵃᵒ ᵀᶻᵘ

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y/o/l - your/original/location

(where you're originally from/reside.)

THE FIRST CREW OF THE 100TH BOMB GROUP HAD JUST LEFT FOR ENGLAND... A few weeks before spring, when the weather remained highly unpredictable, the first team was dispatched to organize and create a welcoming environment for the upcoming arrivals. Departing eight hours ago, just as dawn broke, they were now only a few hours away from their destination, eagerly anticipating a much-needed rest and their sole meal of the day. Despite the exhaustion, the journey provided ample opportunity for bonding, particularly for one young woman who was gradually earning the respect of her macho and dominant companions. 

"Just like toe-fungus." Joked one of them whose name she still hadn't learned. "I'll take what I can get, pipsqueak." She playfully retorted, assigning the man a new nickname, making all the others laugh. "Hey, how come she gets to call me that?!" The man fumed with embarrassment. "Well, I mean, you do have a tiny wang... At least that's what your wife told me." Bucky chimed in. "Hey, eyes on the road, Exec." Scoffed Pipsqueak, embracing the name, for it sure couldn't get worse for him any more than this. "So, got any names for the fort too, you lil wiseacre?" He then turned to the y/h/c woman that co-piloted their fort.

"Whatever's easiest to remember." She replied, not giving it much thought. "Fair enough." They all agreed, continuing their voyage to join the US Army's Eighth Air Force in it's battle against Nazi Germany. "No, Porridge for the last time, we're not callin' her Porridge Paradise, alright?" Sighed a bombardier as the men continued brawling regarding the name. "Hey Greyson, you sure you got us to the right fjord?" y/n questioned once the fort was ambushed by a dense billow of thunderous clouds. "Roger. It's probably just the weather." The blonde assured.

"Joker, how we lookin' back there?" Bucky asked as he tried his best to make it out of there in one piece. "All clear, sir." The boy informed. "Roger that." y/n heaved out a sigh of relief as they finally crossed the valley, entering a fog-free terrain. Most of the crew had never been so far away from home, let alone flown in an airplane. And Major l/n was no exception. Originally from y/o/l, her family moved to Casper, Wyoming when she turned 10. Things got rough ever since as her father lost his job, and her mother ran away, leaving her all alone in the vast cesspool of discourteous cowboys.

Life was very hard back then, but at least it was bearable. All thanks to a certain blonde Major, whose presence made her life a lot less insufferable. They clicked almost instantly the day they met. Both of them recalled it as if it were only yesterday; but the echoes of old memories still lingered, their bittersweet sting a constant reminder of wounds that never truly healed. Watching the once timid boy blossom into the formidable man he had become reopened those wounds in a way she never anticipated. 

He consumed her thoughts entirely, just as she consumed his.  Sorting through the tangled web of emotions they had long neglected proved far more arduous than either of them had imagined. After burying their feelings for so long, they had unwittingly buried a part of themselves too, until they had almost forgotten they were ever there. Yet, as they confronted the depth of their connection, they realized that some wounds, no matter how deeply buried, could never truly be forgotten.

Each and every member of the crew came from every corner of the vast country, all of them with one common purpose... Why, to bring the war to Hitler's very doorstep, of course. "Pilot to crew: We'll be touching down in Greenland shortly to get some chow and some rest." Bucky announced, and the fort erupted with cheers. "Blondie Tower, Army 233. A flight of B-17 over Bluie West One; landing instructions, please." Requested a sergeant as the group got closer. Regardless of the violent gusts that further derailed their timings, the landing was a smooth one. 

"Yeah, right... if by smooth you mean belly flopping into the freezing fucking river." Grayson grumbled, hopping outta the fort, and onto the ground once the rescue team managed to pull the jet out. "Could've been a lot worse, you know." Scoffed the unamused Major, almost instantly shivering the moment the icy breeze  whipped her face. "Oh really? Like what exactly?" Questioned Pipsqueak, as annoyed as his friend. "Head-diving into a frozen pig sty-" Shrugged the raven, looking towards a frozen barn not too far from the spot where they crashed. "So what, we spend the night here or something?" The girl then asked.

"We eat, we drink, we sleep around with pretty women, and then off to England we go." Answered the Air Exec, already eye-fucking a couple of pretty maidens. "Not you though, Major. You may be pretty, but you're one of us now, Ducky." He then chuckled, resting arm amiably on her shoulder. "Everyone back at Texas called me Viper." She corrected, feeling the heat rush up to her face as she reminisced about the day she was first given that nickname. "Wiper? Sheesh- that's degrading. No wonder you have such little tolerance to bullshit on your fresh journey." Pipsqueak frowned understandingly.

"Hey, at least it's better than Dishwasher. Isn't that what Bubbles was planning on calling her?" The raven rolled his eyes, somewhat amused, somewhat offended. Ideally he wouldn't be bothered much by anything that wasn't actively targeted towards him, and as far as insulting nicknames were concerned, he came up with some of the very best. Yet when it came to the girl, he didn't have the heart for it. It took some time to get her to relax a little around him, and once everyone got familiar to each other, he too found himself giving more than one fuck about her feelings. Besides, seeing the look in his friend's eyes yesterday contributed to his kindness too.

Gale Cleven was known for his stoic demeanor, keeping to himself and immersing himself in his work. He shied away from social gatherings, never one to dance with beautiful women or indulge in vices like excessive drinking or gambling. Sports held no interest for him either. Yet, when this mysterious woman appeared out of nowhere the previous night, something stirred within him. Suddenly, his eyes, typically devoid of emotion, were ablaze with a fire he couldn't deny — a passion ignited by the enigmatic presence of his captivating childhood crush. The only girl he was head over heels for. The only girl he would ever breathe for.

Certainly if she still managed to bring that side out of his friend, there must be something to her, right? And the least Major Egan could do, as a good friend, and a gentleman would be to treat the lady with utmost respect. "So this is where we're staying?" Grayson asked, examining an inn located in a deserted alley. "It's a lot better on the inside." Bucky said confidently. "How can you be so sure about that?" y/n asked. "All the good bars always start out like this." He smirked, barging into the dimly lit, shady tavern with a homely vibe to it. "You can copy that, sir." Smiled Pipsqueak as they all entered their shelter for the night.

"So, what do you say, Major? Think you could drink the champ under the table?"

(1.3k words)

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[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ ▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎ »»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️ 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁 — 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳...

— ᵂⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉˢᵖᵉᵃʳᵉ

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THE CRUSHING WEIGHT OF HER INITIAL DEFEAT BECAME AN UNBEARABLE BURDEN FOR MAJOR L/N, tearing at her heart with relentless anguish, rendering her unable to withstand its devastating toll. 'Oh, Benjamin... Why couldn't you just fucking listen?' She screamed within, desolation echoing through the depths of her soul as she gazed upon the lifeless Bombardier, still bearing the defiant spirit of the living, his cold, dead eyes burning into her teary y/e/c ones with relentless intensity.'Born an asshole, died an asshole.' She kept her eulogy short, not having much to say. It wasn't the man she felt pity for, but rather, his beautiful family.

Benji had it in for her ever since he first arrived barely a week ago, the commander of the 389th. Homophobic, racist, xenophobic, misogynist. You name it, he was it. Typical man of the pre-historic era. But for y/n, this was nothing unfamiliar. She had faced graver challenges and steeled herself to confront even more formidable ones. Death, an all too frequent companion in this noble pursuit, had visited them before, numerous times since their arrival nearly a month ago. Its presence failed to unsettle her as it should have. It was as though she had already witnessed the depths of despair, undeterred by the darkness that loomed in the future.

Nevertheless, she couldn't banish the insidious thought that lingered, a venomous notion that whispered, 'Perhaps if I were a man, things would've been different...' A bitter realization gnawed at her, suggesting that perhaps then, she would receive the reverence she rightfully deserved, empowering her to safeguard the lives she had pledged to protect. Yet, another part of her recognized the harsh truth — her biology wasn't the root issue. It was the entrenched, antiquated mentalities that pervaded. What value lay in any mindset, if not harnessed to champion a shared purpose?

In the crucible of war, there was only one imperative... saving lives and defending their nation. By aiding their allies in bringing this conflict to its conclusion where it began, they could diminish the prospects of a future invasion upon the United States of America. It was a mission of unparalleled gravity, one that demanded unwavering resolve and unconditional mental sacrifices to ensure the safety and security of their homeland. Such was the immutable truth acknowledged by all, an undeniable reality that had persisted throughout time and would endure into the future. "So why can't these morons just surrender their egos?!" 

"Major l/n?" Spoke a voice, quivering with mild concern. "Oh- hello, Linda..." Sighed the girl awkwardly, her realization dawning as she found herself unintentionally vocalizing her inner musings, caught in the act of speaking to herself. "Is everything okay?" Asked the nurse timidly, approaching the body. "Ye-yeah, everything's fine. Just wanted to say goodbye." She replied, staring blankly at the fallen soldier. "Hell of a mission, huh?" Linda mumbled calmly, having an idea what the girl must be going through, for she had dealt with similar experiences. "Don't beat yourself up for it." She cooed, cleaning up after the body.

"Are they all like that? Rookies?" Questioned y/n bluntly, hoping she'd have better luck with the remaining of the 100th. "Just the ones with poor upbringing." She snapped, well aware of the downsides of being a woman in such a field. "If you're wondering what to tell your guys — don't say anything." Advised the ginger. "They'll figure it out eventually... They all do." She murmured, excusing herself to give the Major some more time to process the first death that occurred on a mission led by her. It nearly shattered her confidence. One failure, one mission; a relentless assault on her spirit, leaving her anxious and bereft.

John Egan, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the deceased. With all the experience a man could amass, he had become immune to such pain. So here he was instead, driving his jeep to the base; anticipating the reunion with his best friend after three agonizingly long weeks apart, excitement surged within him, eager to reconnect after enduring the vast expanse of time and space. He was worried for the girl, especially after hearing that the observation mission was anything but observational. Ambushed by the Krauts they were, the guns all jammed. He wanted to check up on her, but he was a few hours too late, and hungover too.

Last night was a rough one, but he was proud of his achievement nevertheless. He had won not one, but four bikes due to his unwavering faith in Tommy, a lad with great aim. One he gave to y/n, which she rode to the base before hopping into her plane. The other was a gift for Tommy, for it's the least he could do to thank the man for not blinding him the previous night. One he kept for himself, and the last he had saved for his faithful comrade — Major Gale Cleven. "Hey, Morris! Thanks for the bikes, mate-" He cried after the grumpy old man, who had to carry the planks all the way to Abbotts, rather than just using his bike. "I'll get ya next time."

As if on cue, the 7 crews began landing by the time the Air Exec had arrived; the first one being Cleven's, deboarded by a husky. "Demarco!" Called the raven, excited to see his friends. "Hey, Major!" Grinned the brunette, marching up to his pal with the dog by his side. "Where'd you get that dog, Benny?" Inquired the amused Major. "I won him at craps." Demarco replied, the husky contently wagging his tail. "You took this baby above 10,000 feet?" Chuckled the raven, ruffling his coat. "He's got a mask. It cost me three bucks, but boy- he loves to fly." Informed the brunette. "He wouldn't stop howling." Chimed in the familiar blonde.

"That's because he's part wolf!" Benny defended. "That wolf's part dog." Shrugged the Major, removing his shades, taking in a deep breath. "Got a name?" Bucky asked. "Meatball." Replied the two. "Welcome to the 100th, Meatball. Ducky's gonna love ya, chum." Chuckled the man, welcoming their pet, as Demarco led him to the lunchroom to settle. "You miss me?" Bucky then turned to his friend. "Like a stone in my shoe." Grinned Buck, shaking his hand. "How've you been getting on?" He asked his hungover friend. "Uh, half out equipment's yet to show up. Had to borrow masks and parachutes from the Brits." Informed the raven.

"Air Exec ought to take care of that." Scoffed the blonde jokingly, his eyes scanning around for a familiar y/h/c. "My opinion — they ought to can the guy." Bucky sighed, clearly unhappy with the lack of action in his line of the job. "Also, get used to the mud." He added, just as the blonde stepped into a patch. "Hey, listen- your uh, radio guy pick up any chatter from the 418th? We're missing Brady, and he's supposed to be with l/n." After a moment's thought, the Major finally answered, "Negative." The clouds were dense on their way to England, so they must've parted ways then. "Speaking of y/n... Where is she?" Buck then changed the topic.

"Probably at the hospital. Had a miserable mission." He replied. "Hospital- Is she okay?" The blonde's eyes widened with fear. "Yeah no, physically she's alright. Just... grieving her first loss, I guess." Sighed the raven, torn between the desire to check up on her and the understanding that she probably needed some space to process it all. "One loss in 13 missions? Not bad if you ask me," Gale murmured, her tone carrying a hint of awe. "Oh, she's great, Buck. 100% success rate; well, 97% now," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with genuine admiration for her daunting skillset.

"Oh, I got you a bike. We can go see how Duck's doing if you want." He smirked at his lovestruck friend. "I need a bike?" Ignoring the fluttering that spread across his chest the moment the idea of them meeting again was brought up, Buck asked instead, his heart yearning for the chance to see her once more, to gaze into her eyes and feel the warmth of her presence enveloping him. "Or it's a 20-minute walk from the quarters to the mess; and these things are sold out for weeks." Scoffed the man, walking to his vehicle. "I figure you'll buzz past a bunch of guys crawling through the rain on the way to dinner, then you'll come around and say ThAnK yOu, BuCkY."

"Don't count on it," teased the blonde, grateful for his friend's thoughtfulness. "So which way to the hospital, again?" he inquired, eager to meet his ex. But before the raven could answer, their attention was captured by the familiar drilling of another one of their planes. Waiting for it to draw closer for a clearer look, Bucky eventually concluded that it was indeed who the duo thought it was. "Well, there's Brady..." murmured the Major. "Looks like they're crashing; let's go check it out!" He hopped into his jeep excitedly, beckoning the blonde to join him. Not long after they took off after the jet, they were rattled by a groundbreaking thud, instilling a sense of urgency in their pursuit.

"GET THE FUCK OUT- RUN, WE NEED TO EVACUATE!" Cried the men, scurrying out of their fiery fort. The engineers and medics rushed towards the crash site, their hearts pounding with exigency as they moved to take control of the situation. Amidst the chaos and devastation, they worked tirelessly, striving to curb the disaster and save any lives that hung in the balance. "All clear." A worker declared after several minutes of thorough inspection. "Easy deal." Lemmons concluded, not too concerned by the aftermath for he'd seen worse earlier today. "Jack it up and hook it up." He instructed his team. "I'm on it- let's go, boys."

"Everyone okay?" Egan interrogated, letting his presence be known. "Ma'am, you really shouldn't stand in front of crashing planes, praying to the heavenly forces to make it stop." Sighed Thompson, as he wrangled the stunned lady away from the chaotic scene and towards the safety of the jeep. "But there was a dog." She simply shrugged, her eyes sparkling with newfound admiration for her furry companion. The man blinked harshly before glancing around incredulously. "A dog? Out of all the things to notice during a plane crash, you find a dog?"

Y/n nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, a fluffy little guy. He even has my pilot's hat on!" She grinned. The engineer scratched his head, momentarily dumbfounded. "Well, I guess it's better than praying to the airplane gods for a safe landing, right?" He shook his head, making the men in the vehicle chuckle softly, as the girl pet the dog affectionately. "Sounds about right, Snicket." Bucky remarked, quickly catching on. "Besides, who needs divine intervention when you've got Meatball here?" He added, introducing his friend to their latest member. Meanwhile, the blonde Major watched the exchange with an amused smirk, shaking his head. 

"Only in our line of work, folks... Only in our line of work." He commented. "So, where's Brady?" The girl quickly changed the topic, her voice betraying no hint of the emotions churning within her, as she raised her guard higher than ever in the presence of her heartbreaker, masking the ache in her heart with a facade of nonchalance. "Brady, Major l/n here would like to have a word with you." The raven summoned him almost instantly. "Yes, Major." Sighed the man, striding over to her. "y/n l/n." She introduced herself, offering him a firm handshake. "John Brady. It's an honor to be a part of your crew, Major l/n." He spoke respectfully.

"Likewise, commander. But I must ask — how did you manage to lose the rest of the squadron?" 

"We uh, we got separated in the clouds. And um, then we had some kind of electrical failure, so we spent an hour just trying to get the wheel down." Explained the brunette. "Well, you know what they say... There are two kinds of pilots: those who've had a wheels-up landing, and those who will." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Seeking cover in clouds is my field of expertise; I'll be sure to get you there." She declared with a tone of unwavering confidence, her words carrying the weight of undeniable assurance, instilling a sense of trust in her abilities to navigate through even the most treacherous of skies.

"Major!" The voice belonging to Lemmons cuts them short as he rushes up to the group, fear etched deeply into his usually composed face. His urgent tone echoes with a sense of impending danger, commanding attention and injecting a formidable gravity into the atmosphere. "What is it?" Asked the raven, plunging out of his seat, ready to confront whatever threat loomed at their doorstep. "It looks worse than it is." Panted the blonde. "There's uh, there's blood on the nose of the fort, and we don't know where it's from..." He mumbled, rather concerned for the team that just evacuated. "Oh, that would be me..." y/n raised her arm, chuckling awkwardly. 

"The nose kinda high-fived in the head about a second before completely stopping."

(2.2k words)

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[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽

▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎

»»-----　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙾 — 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟹𝟾𝟿𝚝𝚑...

𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮

𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵

𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴

𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭...

— ᵀᵒᵇʸ ᴹᵃᶜ

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THE LAST ENGINE WAS ON FIRE, THE OTHER THREE DILAPITADED; The crew now relied on naught but half an engine, and barely four conscious members. "Keep your nose down... Let's get this fire out!" Bucky instructed the girl who had taken charge after shoving the rookie semi-conscious pilot outta the seat, trying to get her team to survive this mission. So far, her luck had been good. Despite a couple of difficult people on her crew, she never had to face a loss. Everyone survived, even if just by fluke; but that was her job as a Major — to succeed each and every mission. And what was a mission without a crew, right? So she always prioritized safety.

Air Exec, Egan, bore the weight of loss heavily, having already witnessed the fall of several comrades, including Grayson, amid the relentless bombardment of the Germans on the fourth day of combat. While the man's passing deeply saddened y/n, she found herself compelled to focus on the welfare of the remaining team members. With the recent arrival of the 389th just a week prior, resources were stretched thin, and discipline was lacking. No one wanted to listen to a woman, and the unofficial leader of the 389th did not make things any better. So, she began working alongside Bucky instead, the only man who respected her unconditionally.

Though their collaboration saved a ton of lives, there were a few missions they had to abort halfway due to serious disagreements between the headstrong duo. This mission, however, was not one of them. If anything, it only brought them closer together due to the incompetence of the amateur soldiers. "C'mon Duck, FASTER!" Urged the raven as the y/h/c quickly fastened her seatbelt. "You're the only one who can help us now." He yelled in desperation, trying his best to get control of the rapidly collapsing fort. "The condensation from the clouds will help extinguish the fire. We can then use the remaining fuel to land back." She calculated.

"We need to hurry or we may not need a fire to kill us all!" Bucky panicked. "Oh just sit back and relax, won't ya? You know I got your back." She scoffed, her aura of unyielding confidence sending shivers down their spines, each glance a silent promise of domination, as if daring them to challenge her authority; knowing they would cower in the shadow of her power. And with that, into the swirling embrace of the clouds, they plunged; a dramatic descent into the unknown, each heartbeat echoing like thunder as they embraced the tumultuous skies. Their fate hung precariously in the balance between the heavens above and the abyss below.

"That's it- The fire is out!" Bucky informed, reassured but still not calm. "Pull! Pull up!" He yelled at the pilot who was trying her best to control the steering wheel, which seemed to be jammed due to the immense air pressure. "HARDER!" He cried as they plummeted for the ground in the enemy's territory. "I'm trying--" The girl grunted, yanking it up with all her might until finally she won, and the fort slowed down. "Okay, I'm levelling out now." She declared, recomposing herself. "We're still in Kraut territory." The Navigator briefed the crew. "Holy shit... Fighters, dead ahead." Spotted the pilot. "12 o'clock!" Specified the Exec.

Before they could even steel themselves, the enemy unleashed a relentless barrage of gunfire. "FUCK-" cursed the girl, narrowly evading the lethal rain of bullets by mere inches. "Gunmen, stand ready!" she bellowed, her voice cutting through the chaos like a clarion call amidst the deafening gunfire. "Yes, Major!" came the resolute response from her men, their voices drowned out by the cacophony of war. "We've lost the fourth flap!" cried out a bombardier, his words a stark reminder of the perilous situation they found themselves in.

As the Krauts slowly retreated, the air thick with the scent of burning metal and the acrid stench of gunpowder, it was unclear whether they withdrew for fuel or regrouping... But one thing remained certain — the battle was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher. On one hand, Egan burned with the desire to chase down their retreating foes, to plunge headlong into the inferno of battle without hesitation. But l/n, with the instincts honed through countless skirmishes, sensed a disquieting absence amidst the chaos; a silence that gnawed at her gut like a predator lurking in the shadows.

Though the urgency of the moment urged her to press on, the y/h/c Major refused to ignore the ominous void left by the usually-active Navigator's silence. She knew all too well the weight of responsibility resting upon her shoulders; every life under her command entrusted to her unwavering vigilance. Reluctantly, she made the call to postpone the pursuit, prioritizing the safety of her men above all else. The mission could wait, but their fallen companion could not. For in the crucible of war, every soul lost was a blow to the cause they fought for — a truth y/n understood all too keenly.

And so, with a heavy heart, she resolved to face the delay head-on, knowing that victory on the battlefield was only possible with warriors who stood united and whole. 'Bucky's not gonna like this one...' She sighed to herself, nevertheless she finalized her decision, and steered the fort into the blanket of clouds, their only temporary shelter. "Pilot to Navigator: We gotta head back. We need a new heading!" She ordered. No response. "Duval, need heading!" She repeated louder as they made it out of their hideout. "This is Duval... And I've been hit." Groaned the man, confirming her worst fear. "Fucking 389th rookies." Scoffed the raven that sat beside her.

"I'm coming down to you, Duval." He then rolled his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Point it due West." He quickly instructed the Pilot, before getting out of his seat. "Roger." She obeyed almost instantly. "We're losing oil pressure on engine two!" Cried the Major, practically drowning in her own sweat. "Keep it steady and I'll get a new heading." Assured Bucky as he rushed down to check up on their injured mate. By the time he reached, Duval had already lost a lot of blood. His breathing got shallower and shakier by the minute. "Breathe, man. Just breathe- Hang on!" Comforted a bombardier.

"Duval, where are you hit?!" Egan then questioned, grabbing the man's injured shoulder for support as he balanced himself on the turbulent jet. "Ah, fuck-" Grunted the Navigator, his arm immobile. "Stay with me, Duval." Bucky muttered, spotting the wound and working on patching it up. Just when things were going steady, the crew was ambushed by a few more fighters. "8 o'clock!" Cried the Pilot as the men did their job. "I'm right here..." Spoke the Exec in a reassuring tone. "I'm not gonna make it, Bucky!" Shouted the semi-conscious warrior. "Shut it, Duval; you're gonna make it. Ducky's gonna kill me if you don't-" He scoffed.

"Put your hand on the wound!" He instructed. "Here... That's good." Sighed the man, ignoring the grunting of his injured Navigator, far more concerned about the new headings than his health. "Stay with me god damnit!" The raven smacked the exhausted man to keep him from fading. "You hear me?!" He smacked the Navigator one last time, demanding undivided cooperation. "Look at me- Open your eyes; OPEN YOUR EYES." Bucky yelled. "Breathe... Breathe, breathe!" Trying his best to keep the man from passing out, to no one's surprise, they were under attack once again.

"Fighters- 12 o'clock!" Yelled y/n, as the sergeants instantly obeyed. "Got 'em!" Cried one proudly, as the girl managed to dodge the rest. "Bucky, I need that heading." She commanded, unsure how long she could rely on luck for all of their safeties. "New heading... Turn left at 248." Replied the raven about a minute later. "Roger." She once again went to the clouds for cover before making the turn once she arrived the heading. "Come on, stay with me." He turned to the Navigator who looked a lot better now. He smiled at his comrade, who only nodded vigorously, at loss for words, his pain only worsened, but his survival was guaranteed.

"Look alive, people... We're finally heading home."

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[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ ▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎ »»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️ 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙵𝚃𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 — 𝚄𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮...

— ᴾʰⁱˡ ᴶᵃᶜᵏˢᵒⁿ

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A SILENT WEEK PASSED, LULLING THE CAMP INTO A FALSE SENSE OF CALM... The men trained openly but discreetly, honing their bodies without drawing suspicion. y/n and Brady were tirelessly crafting weapons, transforming splinters and scraps of wood into crude but potentially lethal daggers. Their progress was slow and frustrating, the makeshift arsenal a testament to their desperate circumstances. The arrival of the Tuskegee airmen had been met with palpable hostility. It took a few days for them to recover and find their footing in this unwelcoming environment, but the tension was unyielding. 

Even as Buck tried to set a positive example, the animosity lingered, a bitter undercurrent that pervaded the camp. From the guards to their fellow prisoners, the prejudice was relentless, a stark reminder of the deep-seated divisions even amidst shared suffering. "Keep your head down, stay focused." Lieutenant Alexander Jefferson murmured to Robert Daniels, who kept glancing around anxiously to ensure they weren't overheard. "They may not like us, but they won't go against us. We're on the same team here." He assured the uneasy soldier as the three of them walked around Stalag Luft III, formulating plans to escape.

A tense silence enveloped the camp as Robert muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to watch your back every second." His eyes narrowed with disdain. "Not only do you have Richie with you, but you're also based in a friendlier room." He then scoffed. Robert, with a sympathetic expression, placed a steadying hand on his mate's shoulder. "We're all in this together, man. Just stick with us, and we'll get through this." His words were meant to be comforting, but the tension in the air was discernable. The arrival of the new men was like a stone thrown into a calm pond, ripples of unease spreading throughout.

Every glance, every whispered conversation, carried an undercurrent of scorn and suspicion. As they trudged through the frigid camp, they began discussing their observations and potential escape plans. "That's double-barbed wire, and there's a guard tower every 50 meters, with dogs everywhere. Running out of here is out of the question for me." Sighed Macon, casting a pitiful glance at his injured leg. "If you plan it right, we won't have to run." Robert mused confidently. "I don't know, Rob..." murmured Jefferson, skeptical. "I'm telling you, it could work" The man insisted. "Even if we get the truck, and now that I can believe, and even if we recruit one of those white boys to drive it..." Macon started, only to be interrupted by Richard. "Two. It's gotta be two — Krauts always travel in pairs."

"Uh-huh... Okay, so we got the truck, we got the two white boys in Nazi uniforms, then what? We gotta make sure the girl doesn't follow us around, because that's going to be an instant giveaway." Alexander scoffed, somewhat fascinated. "What girl?" Robert questioned, before being nudged and beckoned to turn around to see y/n, who was trying to keep an eye on them from a safe distance without being obvious. As soon as they all turned to see her, she turned around too, looking at the sky, and muttering about the beauty of the clouds because she was flabbergasted by their sudden move and prone to silly antics.

"The fuck?" Robert raised an eyebrow, more amused than offended. "What's her deal?" He wondered aloud. "She's one of the good ones. The only reason why our dorm is friendlier than yours." Chuckled Alexander. He hadn't really had a conversation with y/n but had exchanged a few smiles and nods. She also wouldn't shy away from scolding some of the men every time they openly showed disdain for the airmen. Small acts like these meant the most. "Okay, anyway... let's assume she gets bored of stalking us eventually, and we have everything we need to get outta here." He then continued. 

"It still took us what, four days to get here from Frankfurt?" He reminded them. "Yeah, and half of that was by train." Chimed in Macon. "Point is: where we gonna refuel?" He asked. "It ain't like we can just stop off at some POW camp and top off." Shrugged Jefferson "We ride until it's empty, and then we hike from there." Robert answered. "Three days might get us to friendly territory." He added. "Alex mapped it out." With that, y/n had all the information she needed. She sprinted back to Bucky and Gale, her heart racing, to update them on what she'd just overheard.

Stopping outside her barrack where the two men waited, she took a minute to catch her breath. "They've got a plan. They think they can get a truck and sneak out, but they'll need help. They've even mapped it out." She panted breathlessly. Gale looked at her with a mix of concern and admiration. "Are you okay?" He asked, noticing her flushed face. "Yeah, yeah, just...caught up in the clouds, you know." She said with a sheepish grin. "But seriously, they have a solid plan. We need to figure out how to support them without drawing too much attention." She declared. "You know, I think you might be right... It's about time we put our differences aside and work hard together." Bucky nodded, his mind already racing through the possibilities. 

"Speak for yourself- Gale and I never considered them any different than the rest of us." She rolled her eyes, glad to have opened the racist asshole's mind a little. "Seriously?" The raven looked over at the blonde. "How the hell are you such a saint?" He asked teasingly. "Just never thought of them enough to form any judgment." Deadpanned Gale. "Well, I think it's time you should." Replied the y/h/c. "We need to talk to them, but I don't want to go alone, or at all." She sighed, recalling her embarrassing moment earlier. "Alright, I'll do it." Volunteered the blonde, earning a kiss on the cheek. Giggling coyly to himself, the flustered man marched to his dorm.

"You flew P-51s?" Gale asked, attempting to strike up a conversation with Lieutenant Jefferson, who sat alone in a corner, engrossed in a book. His voice was casual but carried an undercurrent of curiosity. Jefferson glanced up, his expression softening slightly. "P-39s, P-40s, P-47s, P-51s, AT-6s." He listed off, his tone neutral. "AT-6s? I trained in those. They've got some powerful torque." Gale mused, easing himself into the conversation. He propped his leg on a nearby table, resting his elbow on his knee, leaning in to show his interest. Alexander nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "P-51s are much smoother. It's an easy transition from the AT-6."

Gale's eyes lit up with a mix of nostalgia and warmth. "You know, I started out wanting to be a fighter pilot." He took a seat, his posture relaxed but his eyes keen. "Then I ended up falling in love with the big birds, and I'm glad I did." He added, grateful for all he had in his life right now, despite the shortcomings that came along. The man's gaze softened further, the shared experience creating a bridge between them. "Funny how that happens. Sometimes the sky has other plans for us." He shrugged. Gale chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Yeah, it does. But it's those twists and turns that make it all worth it, right?"

The two men shared a moment of understanding, the intensity of their circumstances momentarily giving way to the shared camaraderie of pilots. "I've, uh, I've been building model planes since I was a kid." Shared Alexander, a bright grin spreading across his face as he recalled the fond memory. "Built every model imaginable." He added, his enthusiasm shining through. "But my masterpiece, you know... my absolute masterpiece — was a Supermarine Spitfire with twin two-foot floats and a three-foot wingspan." He explained proudly, his onyx orbs lighting up. Gale couldn't help but smile, the warmth of the soldier's story reminding him of his own childhood. "Drew planes myself from newspaper pictures." He mused, lost in nostalgia.

"How about that," Gale remarked, feeling a deep connection. The memory brought back flashes of y/n, his beloved, drawing random doodles on his arms. It was her innocent way of flirting when they were younger, and the thought filled him with a warm, bittersweet emotion. The casual conversation held an underlying intensity, the shared experiences of past dreams and present realities weaving a bond between the two men in the midst of their harsh circumstances. "What are you reading there?" Gale asked, his curiosity piqued as he noticed the book in Jefferson's hands. 

He wondered if y/n had read it; she often spent sleepless nights engrossed in her books, passionately recounting certain parts to him. He always found it adorable how animated she became when talking about her favorite stories. "Uh, it's a story about an artist." The Lieutenant replied, handing the book over. "He sacrifices everything to pursue his passion." He summarized. The blonde smiled softly, recognizing the cover instantly. "The Moon and Sixpence." He read aloud. He wasn't sure if y/n had read it, but he distinctly remembered her using the same book to smack some sense into the cheeky raven a couple of months back, the memory eliciting a soft chuckle from his lips. 

As the Major flipped through the pages, something caught his eye. It looked like a map, intricately hand-drawn. He carefully took it out and began examining it. "You draw this?" He asked, genuinely impressed. "Yes, sir..." Jefferson replied, a hint of wariness in his voice. "Is this to scale?" Gale inquired, inspecting each and every detail closely. "Uh, more or less. No elevation, though." Answered the fighter. "Wow..." Gale remarked, taking a deep breath. y/n was right; these guys were serious. "You know, we could really use your help." He said, his tone suggestive. "We?" Jefferson repeated, somewhat confused. 

"There's a group of us figuring out our next moves, running scenarios... We can't just stay sitting ducks." Gale replied, his voice steady and earnest. "Yeah, I noticed the new and improvised supergoons around." Sighed Jefferson, his disappointment evident. "Yeah, Duck's got a plan for that." Gale mumbled. "Who?" Jefferson raised an eyebrow. "Ducky- uh, y/n... The girl, lady." The blonde stuttered, not realizing he had said it aloud. "The one you guys sent to spy on me and my friends?" Jefferson teased, a slight smirk on his face. "Oh, no. No, that's all her. She's curious and cautious, and mostly just bored." The man chuckled softly. 

"But yeah, if it weren't for her, we wouldn't have made it this far." He admitted, his voice filled with admiration. "Sounds like you're really in love with her." Alexander observed, noting the tenderness in Gale's tone. "Of course. She's the best thing that ever happened to me." Buck smiled, his oceanic eyes softening as he spoke of the love of his life. "So... what would you guys have me do?" "So... what do you need me to do?" He then asked, his tone serious. "This." Gale said, holding up the map. "And be wary of Bucky trying to rope you into stealing from the Krauts. I wouldn't recommend it." He added with a sigh.

"That the tall, dark-haired drunkard?" Jefferson guessed, recalling his encounter from the previous day. "Yep." Nodded the blonde, confirming his suspicion. "Now, we need help charting the area to get out of here, and I think you would be perfect for that." Gale said, shifting the conversation to their urgent need. Jefferson studied the soldier for a moment, then voiced a lingering question. "Back on the first day, all the guys looked to you. You got the final say... Why didn't you gripe about us bunking in eight?" He asked. The blonde met his gaze steadily. "Let's just say, I knew you weren't spies." He replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. 

"Ain't that a bitch..." Alexander laughed, shaking his head. "When the girl, Duck, stormed out of the room, we really thought she was gonna call the Krauts on us." He confessed. "She's a bit odd at times, but she'd never do that. If it weren't for her, I don't think I'd be having this conversation with you right now." Gale assured. "She definitely seemed a lot more... open-minded than the rest of you guys. No offense." Jefferson sighed, relaxing a bit. "None taken." Chuckled the blonde. "She certainly is, unless you steal her food. Then she's an absolute nightmare." He mumbled with a grin. "Sounds reasonable. Gotta have some boundaries." Jefferson laughed.

The mood lightened, but the vehemence of their situation prevailed. They shared a moment of mutual understanding, knowing they had to trust each other to make it through. "Gale Cleven. Major. 100th Bomb Group." The blonde then introduced himself, offering his hand with a warm smile. "Everybody calls me Buck." He added. "Second Lieutenant Alexander Jefferson, 332nd Fighter Group." Jefferson replied, shaking his hand firmly. "You can call me Alex." He smiled. As they shared this heartwarming moment, y/n, who had been eavesdropping, got emotional. She let out a loud sniffle, touching her stomach, feeling a rush of affection for the father of her baby.

"Um... y/n?" Gale called out, recognizing the sound. "Are you spying on us again?" He sighed, turning to face the door. "The statistical analysis... It's so beautiful." She sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "And I really want some honey with rice right now." She hiccupped. Confused but well-accustomed to her random mood swings which only seemed to have gotten worse the past couple of months, Gale Cleven chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Come on, let's find you something to eat." He sighed , gently guiding her away to comfort her. "You're so cute, you know that?" She cried, looking up at him with teary eyes. 

"As are you, sweetheart... as are you." He placed a tender kiss on her head, his heart swelling with love and amusement.

(2.4k words)

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Tag List: @deathwho @beebeechaos @sc4rl3tteb1tch @abysscorpus @darkwindysoul

[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ ▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎ »»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️ 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙵𝚃𝚈 𝚂𝙸𝚇 — 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱. 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯...

— ᴿʸᵘⁿᵒˢᵘᵏᵉ ˢᵃᵗᵒʳᵒ

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THE DAY WAS A TUMULTUOUS ONE, TEEMING WITH DISCOVERIES AND RELENTLESS TRAINING... Exhausted both physically and mentally, the soldiers sought respite in a spirited game of cards in their dimly lit dorm, finding solace in each other's camaraderie. They had unearthed crucial details about the newest Nazi recruits and learned that reinforcements would be arriving daily, further tightening the noose of security around them. The ominous presence of higher authorities like the SS and Gestapo loomed over them, but for now, Stalag Luft III remained out of their immediate scrutiny.

Amidst the chaos, a striking event had occurred — the unexpected arrival of three black men. Their presence had sent ripples of uneasy tension throughout the camp, the full implications of which were yet to unfold. Many of the men reacted with hostility, viewing the newcomers as inferior and unworthy due to the color of their skin. Voices rose in anger, some demanding they be sent elsewhere to uphold segregation laws. The girl, however, had recognized them immediately — the Tuskegee Airmen. Those men had saved countless lives, displaying unparalleled bravery and skill in the skies. 

Her heart swelled with gratitude and admiration for their contributions every time someone brought the topic up. Unable to fathom why prejudice was so deeply ingrained in the minds of her fellow prisoners, y/n figured it wasn't just a matter of ignorance, but a reflection of the insidious teachings that had shaped their beliefs. She was well-aware that trying to change their minds with words alone would be an uphill battle, but she remained silently resolved, her respect for the fighters unwavering. The camp's tension simmered, a palpable reminder of the deep-seated biases that thrived, even in the face of shared adversity.

However, she didn't have time to dwell on any of that right now. She was far too busy dominating the poker game. "Ah, goddamn it, Duck... How do you always see through my bluffs?" Crank groaned, tossing his cards away in frustration. The other men chuckled softly. "It's easy when you have a face that screams 'I'm lying!'" She retorted, causing everyone to burst out laughing. "Hey, leave my beautiful face out of this, you envious troll!" He snapped jokingly, prompting more laughter and playful jabs from the group. "Envious? Hardly. I'm just calling it like I see it." She scoffed back, grinning as she raked in her winnings.

"Oh, come on, Crank. Maybe if you stopped looking so guilty every time you lie, you'd stand a chance." Brady chimed in with a smile. "Yeah, and maybe if you stopped winking at your cards, they'd stop betraying you." Bucky added, causing another round of laughter. The fellowship was tangible, a brief respite from the harsh reality outside. They slandered and teased each other with the kind of affection only shared among those who've endured the worst together. The room was filled with an enthusiasm that seemed almost out of place, yet desperately needed. "Alright, alright, let's see if I can finally beat this witch." Crank rolled his eyes, shuffling the cards for another round. "Or maybe I should just give up now and save myself the humiliation?"

"Oh, where's the fun in that?" y/n pouted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm always up for taking more of your ration chits." She shrugged. "You're ruthless, you know that?" Demarco shook his head, but there was a smile on his lips. "Ruthless, but fair." She defended, and the game continued, each laugh and quip a small rebellion against the gloom that hung over them all, until suddenly, the door flung open, and two new prisoners entered. The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with animosity. Cold glares were cast their way, the kind reserved for anyone they thought might be a spy. But in this case, it was quite clear these two men were anything but.

"Second Lieutenant Alexander Jefferson, 332nd Fighter Group." One introduced himself with a firm voice and formidable presence. "Second Lieutenant Richard D. Macon, 332nd." Sighed the other, a bit more weary. No one replied. The room remained silent, the atmosphere turning increasingly frigid. The girl, the only one not sharing this antipathy, was about to say something to ease the aggravation when she felt a twitch, almost a flutter, in her stomach. Her breath hitched — another baby kick. Abruptly, she stood up, mumbling an excuse that went unnoticed. She rushed out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest. 

She made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Breathing heavily, she lifted her shirt and saw the slight bulge, now more noticeable. She placed her hand on her stomach, feeling the life growing inside her. The gentle kicks reminded her of the secret she carried, one that no one else knew about. Five to six months along, and no one had a clue. Not even Gale, the father. The fear of what this revelation could mean in their precarious situation paralyzed her. She leaned against the sink, her reflection showing the signs of her pregnancy more clearly now. The small bump, the subtle but undeniable sign of the life inside her. 

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The tears came unbidden, a mix of fear, love, and overwhelming emotions. She cried quietly, overwhelmed by her hormones and the immense responsibility growing inside her. She loved her baby fiercely but was terrified of what the future held. She had to protect this little one, no matter the cost. She wiped her tears, trying to compose herself. She couldn't let anyone see her like this... Back in the room, the atmosphere had not eased. The new arrivals stood awkwardly, sensing the hostility but unsure of its cause. Gale exchanged a look with Bucky, both of them silently communicating their unease.

"Why the hell are they here?" Ham muttered under his breath, barely audible. "Probably for the same reason we are." Brady replied quietly, trying to keep the peace. But before things could get worse, the girl returned, trying to appear composed. She glanced at Gale, who gave her a questioning look, noticing her teary eyes that she tried to hide behind her hair, but she just shook her head slightly, indicating she was fine. For now, she needed to focus on the present, on surviving this camp and keeping her secret safe. "Gentlemen, welcome to paradise." Addressed the blonde, beckoning to the beds they could bunk in.

"Alright, let's get back to it..." y/n then cleared her throat, trying to regain some normalcy. "Would you like to join us next round?" She offered, playing her card. The men shook their heads no, for the subtle scorns and irritable eye rolls did not go unnoticed by them earlier, but a soft smile was returned to the girl, for they were thankful for her gesture. As they settled into the room, the ambience remained tense. The girl knew she had to stay strong, not just for herself but for the baby growing inside her. She had to navigate this treacherous environment with even more caution now, knowing that her secret, if revealed, could change everything.

"C'mon, Ducky... Let's see how many smokes I can get off you this time then, huh?"

(1.3k words)

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Tag List: @deathwho @beebeechaos @sc4rl3tteb1tch @abysscorpus @darkwindysoul

[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ ▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑  ▎ »»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️ 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 — 𝙰 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 & 𝙰 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵...

— ᴸᵃʷʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴳᵒˡᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ

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ATTEMPTING TO REGAIN HIS COMPOSURE, THE RAVEN SPUTTERED AS HIS SCALDING COFFEE SPILLED FORTH. Inebriated and shattered, he struggled to conceal his inner turmoil, endeavoring to present himself as something more than the fool he felt, hoping to leave a favorable impression on the new Commanding Officer. "You hungover, Major?" Questioned the brunette, reclining by the window, indulging in the refreshing morning air before addressing matters at hand. "No, sir." Replied Bucky. "That won't come for another couple of hours." He asserted confidently. "You're still drunk-" Scoffed the Colonel, amused by his audacity.

"Coffee sharpened me, sir." Bucky deadpanned, taking another sip, which once again, he spat right out due to it's intense heat. "Clearly." Said the man to himself, before clearing his throat and getting down to business. "Colonel Huglin didn't think much of your skills as an Air Executive." The brunette mused. "Well, I didn't think too much of his--" Retorted the raven, only to have his sentence finished by the new CO, who had already anticipated his reply. "Too much of his flying?" Egan let out a sigh, unsure of what to expect, until a lighter placed on an official document signed by the colonel caught his eye. 

Noticing his gaze, Harding reached for his lighter, flicking it open to ignite a cigar. "Well, I ain't Colonel Huglin." He shrugged, hinting something only the two men knew. "No, you're not..."

***

Barging into the cafeteria with unwavering determination, Bucky found himself half an hour earlier than the rest of the soldiers. He wasn't surprised to see his best friend already halfway through his breakfast, deeply engrossed in a discussion about strategies and the progress of other crewmen with Jack, the commanding officer of the 418th squadron, or rather, the ex-CO. The atmosphere crackled with intensity as they delved into their conversation, focused on their mission ahead. "Can I get some coffee?" He requested the waiter, marching to the table to join the two Majors. "Boys." He acknowledged, taking a seat. "Bucky."

"Well?" The blonde arched a skeptical brow, sensing the weight of his friend's demeanor and knowing there was something significant to share, as evident by the rare potency in his deep blue eyes. "I got demoted," Egan stated flatly, the words heavy with implication. "To?" inquired Jack, his tone laced with curiosity, yet tinged with concern. "CO of the 418th squadron." The raven replied, his gaze apologetic as he delivered the news. "Sorry, Jack. The boys are back with me again." He shrugged, a flicker of excitement cutting through the tension. "Long as I get my fort back." Not giving it much thought, Jack brushed it off.

"Yeah... Harding wants to see about that." The man rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as uncertainty hung in the air. "What, I'm Air Exec?" Jack questioned incredulously between mouthfuls of food, his appetite suddenly diminished by the weight of this. Bucky just looked away, unable to face him after practically stealing his position. "You son of a bitch-" Cursed the man, pushing his plate away in frustration. "It wasn't my idea — Huglin recommended you." Informed the raven. "Then you're both sons of bitches." Jack scoffed bitterly, not taking the news well. 

"Goddamn Air Exec." He grumbled, rising abruptly from the table, his displeasure evident in every step. "Look at it this way: LeMay thinks we're the least disciplined Bomb Group in the entire wing; maybe you can make a difference." John tried to console Jack, striving to find a silver lining in the situation. "I don't wanna be the guy wiping your ass, Bucky." snapped the man, his exasperation tangible as he stormed away from the table, leaving the remains of his breakfast behind in his wake. "Welp, that went well..." Mumbled the blonde, shaking his head in disbelief as he returned to minding his own business until the upset man had left the room.

Once the man scrammed away, his departure echoed with tension; the atmosphere seemed heavy with uncertainty. Yet, just as one door closed, another one swung open with a sudden burst of energy. A woman, brimming with joy, pretty much burst into the kitchen, her arrival a stark contrast to the somber mood that had just vacated the space. "Buck- Bucky! You'll never guess what!" y/n rushed up to the two, her excitement palpable as she narrowly missed colliding with the server carrying a hot pitcher of coffee. "Mornin' Duck." The two men greeted in unison as she plopped down on the seat beside the raven's.

"Klaus, perfect timing- could you get me some coffee, please?" She requested with a wide grin. "Of course, ma'am." Smiled the server, sensing her thrill as he promptly moved to fulfill her request. "Why, aren't you a peach today..." Smirked the blonde knowingly, concealing his delight quickly with another bite of his eggs. "I'm assuming your meeting went well?" Bucky mused, taking a sip of his coffee, not spitting it all out for the first time this morning. "Yeah, I got promoted... You?" The girl informed, her tone a mix of excitement and curiosity. "I got demoted." He grinned, finding her smile to be irresistibly contagious.

"So you're flying?" She asked, her ecstasy for the man evident, knowing that flying in the front was all he was ever passionate about, aside from perhaps seducing ladies at the pubs. "Yes, ma'am. CO of the 418th," Chuckled the raven, relieved to be back in the fight after missing out on a crucial mission due to desk duty. "Isn't that Jack's squadron?" y/n wondered aloud, piecing together why the man seemed so upset when he left the cafeteria. "Yeah... He's not too happy about his promotion." Bucky scoffed. "What about you, though?" He then asked the Major, returning to the topic at hand.

"CO of the 351st," she smiled toothily, her pride evident as she shared her accomplishment, still finding it hard to believe that it had actually happened. "You know what's strange? The man appeared completely unaware of my identity until Bremen was mentioned. What's even more peculiar is that he seemed to possess more comprehensive knowledge about the entire incident than I did." She mused. "It kind of reminds me of that one time in middle school when my science teacher wouldn't let me join this science fair, despite my significant contributions. Then, one day after Ga — oh, wait..." She began narrating a similar incident from her past, only to abruptly stop as she realized the implications of what must have actually occurred with Harding.

"Here you go, Major." Klaus placed her coffee before her, nodding as she thanked him before walking away. Egan and l/n exchanged an astute look, silently acknowledging that they were piecing together the true reason behind their respective changes in roles. Cleven, who had caught onto the significance of the subtle silence, played it cool and continued eating as if nothing had changed. "You got up early this morning." Bucky mused. "Did I?" Gale muttered, feigning innocence. "See Colonel Harding before me?" The raven confronted. "Oh, I know that look very well, Major Cleven... I can read you upside down." y/n scoffed, seeing through his attempt to deflect the question.

"All I said was the army's right about you being a leader — that you lead best as a squadron commander." Cleven deadpanned, addressing the raven. "And if it weren't for you yesterday, we would've surely lost all of our men, either to those Krauts or the rough landing," Gale acknowledged, his tone filled with gratitude and respect as he gazed at the girl with softness in his oceanic eyes, silently conveying his appreciation for her bravery and quick thinking. "I only spoke the truth. You two don't gotta send me any flowers." He brushed it off, finishing his meal with a casual shrug, downplaying his own role in the events.

Smiling to herself, the girl took a delicate sip of her coffee, feeling a rush of warmth envelop her chest — a sensation she thought had been lost to her for all these years, until now. It was a feeling that startled her with its sudden and powerful return, filling her with a sense of longing and hope she hadn't dared to entertain before. "Oh, I made one last request before being demoted." The raven said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the trio as they finished their breakfast. "Hmm?" The blonde looked up at him, sensing the weight of his words. 

"I want to write the letters to the families of the boys that we lost." He sighed, his voice heavy with the burden of responsibility. "I think it'd be better coming from... from me; not someone that they never met." He frowned, his expression reflecting both determination and sorrow. "I'll help you." The blonde instantly volunteered with a firm resolve. "Yeah, me too." Chimed in the girl, her tone filled with empathy and understanding, knowing that grief is easier to bear when shared, especially in times as intense and chaotic as these. "I'd appreciate that." Nodded the raven, a half-hearted smile forming on his face, grateful for the support offered by his companions during this difficult task.

"You know, uh- If this whole thing ended, and there were only two pilots up in the air... I'd ideally say it'd be me and it'd be you, Buck. But now I think it'd be Ducky who'd help us get there — to safety." Egan reflected, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and acceptance of the changing dynamics of their squadron. "Don't count on it." The blonde and the y/h/c spoke in unison, their voices laced with playful affection. As they locked eyes, a shared sense of déjà vu washed over them, igniting a warmth that transcended words. It was a moment of quiet intimacy, filled with unspoken promises and the gentle flutter of rehashing deep connection.

"Jesus Christ- can you two just bang already? The sexual tension here is thicker than pea soup at this point."

(1.7k words)

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[queen-c0bra]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻

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· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ ▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎ »»————-　𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️ 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴 — 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝

𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦...

— Qᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᴱˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ ᴵᴵ

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CONSUMED BY THE MAELSTORM OF EMOTIONS RAGING DEEP WITHIN, y/n l/n collapsed behind a solitary rock, her heart shredded by grief. Tears, like liquid diamonds, traced a path down her sun-kissed cheeks, each droplet a testament to the agony tearing her apart. In her trembling hands, she clutched the final remnants of her world — a photograph, now a haunting relic of happier times. As she gazed upon the image of her beloved friend, forever frozen in laughter and light, a tidal wave of despair crashed over her. Every tear that fell upon the picture felt like a final farewell, a silent lament for the irreplaceable soul lost to eternity.

Shaking like a leaf, her guilt unbearable, the girl whispered softly, her voice barely a breath against the weight of sorrow hanging in the air. "I should've seen the danger; should've protected you... I was in the lead after all- It's all my fault!" Her words trailed off into the empty expanse, lost amidst the echoing void left by the brunette's absence. With quivering fingers, she traced the contours of his face in the photograph, her touch seeking solace in the memory of his warm smile as he walked besides Ms. Katherine Hepburn... Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, each drop a inaudible tribute to the ache in her core.

As she sat there, enveloped in misery and rue, a gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of the unforgivable earth — a poignant reminder of the beauty that Biddick had brought into her life. But now, all she was left with were memories, and the besieging resounding of words left unsaid. Unable to bear the burden of her despair in front of the rest of the 100th, y/n retreated further into the shadows, her heart heavy with remorse. She couldn't let them see her like this, a shattered shell of the person she once was; after all, she had a reputation to maintain, and a team to lead and protect

"We're dropping fuel pressure on four — feathering!" Menzie's words were barely audible over the roar of the engines, the last aircraft of hope making its precarious journey towards Telergma, navigating through treacherous skies. "I'm gonna sharpen the turn to the runway." Informed the blonde, determination etched in every line of his face as they neared the desolate expanse below. "Now we're losing engine two." The raven co-pilot updated minutes later, his voice steady despite the urgency of their situation. "Feather it." Commanded Cleven, his mind racing through calculations as they fought against the dwindling fuel reserves. "All engines feathered." 

Within moments, just as the pilot executed a sharp maneuver towards the runway, the engines sputtered and died. "That's it... We're gliding now." Murmured the uneasy man, his voice a hushed plea to the Lord above for deliverance from the impending peril. "200 feet. Landing gear down." He announced, poised to initiate the landing procedure, only to be halted by the Major's intervention. "Hold on - it'll only slow us down." Buck reasoned, his words carrying the weight of their precarious situation. "Landing gear now?" The raven's tone quivered with urgency a minute later, seeking reassurance amidst the growing tension. 

"Wait." The pilot insisted, his instincts guiding him through the critical moments ahead. "100 feet..." The man's brows furrowed in alarm as the ground rushed up to meet them with disturbing speed. "Wait-" The blonde urged, beads of sweat glistening on his tense forehead as they teetered on the brink of disaster. "NOW!" He finally exclaimed, and his partner acted swiftly, executing the command without hesitation. "Right landing gear down." He grunted, voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "Left down." Gale confirmed. "Flaps at quarter... Brace yourselves!" The final directive hung in the air as they hurtled towards the dunes below.

"Better late than never." Major Egan remarked, a mixture of exhaustion and relief evident in his weary expression as his friend joined them at last. "Let's round up that Kübelwagen." Jack chimed in with a grin, eager to reunite with his comrades and take the opportunity to switch vehicles for a change. Running over to the jeep, both of them practically dived into it, arguing about who gets to drive. "I should be the one driving because I'm the Air Executive!" Justified Jack. "No, it's me who should drive because I was the backseat driver the entire time." Scoffed Bucky. "You shouldn't have begged for a role you had no information about in the first place!"

Releasing a collective sigh that seemed to dispel all the agitation the blonde had unwittingly accumulated since the start of their mission, the crew erupted into a chorus of relieved chuckles. Their laughter, tinged with the exhilaration of surviving each gnarly twist and turn thrown their way, filled the air like a symphony of triumph against the odds. Grateful for their shared resilience and camaraderie, they savored the fleeting moment of lightheartedness amidst the drama of their harrowing journey. Menzie, being the first to exit, took a while to find his balance, his legs all jelly-like and sore. "I got you." He assured, catching his wounded friend as he hopped down the fort.

"You boys okay?" Bucky inquired, stepping out of the jeep which he had ended up driving, followed closely by the blonde air exec. "Yeah-" the men replied in unison before Norm collapsed to the ground, unable to bear his weight on his wounded legs. "You alright?!" The raven rushed to aid his fallen comrade, while Jack calmly requested for some med kits. "Let's get these guys in the wagon!" He cried, the concern evident in his voice. "Guys, I'm fine," affirmed the brunette, attempting to reassure his worried mates. "Just listen to Kidd, and get to the wagon." Ordered Egan, his authoritative tone cutting through the chaos as the men rallied together to assist their injured comrade.

"Major, I got him." Strout informed Gale as the two of them supported another injured aircrewman. "Take him to the wagon and get him all patched up," instructed the blonde, nodding towards the vehicle as he scanned the desert landscape, searching for a familiar face. Well, just one face in particular. "Where is she?" Buck questioned bluntly upon the arrival of his best friend, who grinned wide and opened his arms even wider to greet the man. "Wow, no 'hey Bucky' or 'how are you doing, Bucky?' or 'I missed you so much, chum, where have you been all my life?!'" Scoffed the raven, placing a hand over his chest, faking a hurt expression teasingly.

"Hey, Bucky. How are you doing?" Mocked the blonde monotonously, his grin betraying the playful banter as the two began chuckling softly. "I'm alright, Buck. Just wondering how you flew that thing all the way to Africa, but you couldn't make the runway." Egan deadpanned. "It's right there." He laughed, pointing to the right. Before his friend could retort, their attention was captured by the survivors of Cleven's fort dragging out the corpse of their Radio Operator. "Oh boy- who is it?" Questioned Bucky. "Norman Smith; Radio Operator." Replied the blonde, a wave of despondency washing over his solemn face.

"How are you, Buck?" The raven turned him around as the two walked away from the grim scene. "I lost 4 forts..." Mused Gale, his voice dense with the aftermath of their ordeal. "I know." Bucky sighed, his gaze drifting away from the leaking ship. "How many of us made it?" Buck asked, scanning the area for any sign of their missing comrades, particularly the girl who seemed to have disappeared. "11 out of 21." Egan answered gravely. "What about Claytor? Any chutes?" He then inquired, his brow furrowing with concern. "I uh- I didn't see any. Zero visibility." Buck mumbled, his heart sinking at the thought of their fates.

"And Curt?" Bucky asked, a flicker of hope still lingering in his heart despite knowing the truth. "4 chutes, but he wasn't one of 'em." Gale replied, his words a somber confirmation of their friend's fate. "Where is y/n, John?" He then asked in a demanding tone, his concern for the y/h/c Major reflected in the depths of his oceanic orbs. "Just behind that rock..." Sighed the raven, his husky voice piercing the dry air. Buck's heart clenched at the sight of the girl, her posture tense with hidden affliction. He could sense the turmoil swirling beneath her stoic facade, a tempest raging within her. As Bucky voiced concern, suggesting she needed space, Buck nodded in agreement, though his eyes remained fixed on the girl. 

He understood the necessity of solitude, but he couldn't ignore the ache in his chest, the primal urge to protect her from her own anguish. Approaching her cautiously, Buck spoke in a gentle tone, his voice a soothing melody amidst the silence of mourning. "Duck..." He murmured, his heart pounding with the weight of his emotions. Tensing up at the sound of footsteps, y/n wiped away the tears that threatened to betray her semblance of strength with trembling hands. Her breaths came in shallow gasps that she fought to compose herself. The knowledge that her fellow men were also grappling with the brunette's death gave little support in the face of her overwhelming anguish, but she knew she couldn't let them know.

Summoning what little resolve remained within her, the girl straightened her shoulders and drew a deep, steadying breath. She knew she had to be strong, not just for herself, but for the others who were also mourning the loss of their loved ones. With a heavy heart, she steeled herself to face the man who now stood behind the rock she cowered behind, contemplating on whether or not he should console her. "Are you okay?" He blurted out absentmindedly, rolling his eyes to himself at the absurdity of the question. Of course she wasn't okay — nobody here was.

Silently vowing to honor Curt's memory by finding the strength to carry on, even in the midst of her own shattered grief, y/n's gaze snapped up to meet Gale's, a mask of stolidness hiding the tumult of emotions beneath. "Go away, Cleven." She spat, her voice laced with bitterness and defiance. "I don't need another one of your shrinking sessions..." She snapped, her words dripping with resentment, for she knew exactly how this would unfold — he would unravel her defenses with his empathetic words, his understanding look, and his uncanny ability to ease her pain. He had been her rock through every triumph and tribulation, but when he walked away, he shattered the trust she had placed in him, leaving her determined never to let anyone close again, especially not him.

But Gale refused to be deterred, his love for her driving him forward despite her resistance. With an tenderness and patience, he took a seat beside her, resting his back against the rock, gazing at the painted canvas of the sunset, silence enveloped them like a heavy blanket. The hues of orange and pink painted the sky in a breathtaking display, yet beneath the beauty, lay a palpable ache — a shared pain that lingered in the unspoken words between them. A few minutes passed, then he reached out for her hand which wouldn't stop shaking since before they set out for today's commission. His touch was gentle yet firm as he gave it a squeeze.

"You don't have to face this alone, Duck." He whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of her sorrow. "Let me be here for you, even if just for a moment." y/n remained silent for a bit, her jaw clenched in stubborn resistance; but as Buck mentioned Curt, her composure faltered, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features before she buried it quick, deep within her chest. "Curt..." Buck began softly, his voice filled with sadness. "He was a good man, y/n. A true friend." He said, making the girl's breath hitch at the name of their fallen comrade, her tough exterior cracking under the weight of her grief. 

"I should've been there for him." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "I should've done more." She whispered, beating herself up for it, just as the blonde had anticipated. Understanding the depth of her woe, Buck gently lifted her chin, meeting her eyes with a gaze filled with empathy and understanding. "y/n, you can't blame yourself for what happened. You were there for him in ways no one else could be; you were his friend, his confidant, his pillar of strength." Started the blonde, his voice soft yet resolute. He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing, "We all wish we could have done more, but hindsight is a cruel companion."

"What matters is that you were there for him when he needed you most, and your presence brought him comfort and security in his final moments." He mused, intertwining his fingers with hers, offering a silent promise of unwavering support. "You don't have to carry this burden alone." He assured her, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, always." He affirmed, and without a moment's hesitation, he drew her into his arms, enveloping her with a warmth that seemed to chase away the chill of her despair, granting her peace in the midst of her self-reproach. 

"You did everything you could." He murmured softly against her ear, his breath a comforting caress against her skin. "Biddick knew that, and he wouldn't want you to suffer all alone." The blonde mumbled, his voice a soothing balm to her wounded spirit. With each word, he extended a lifeline, a beacon of hope piercing through the darkness of her depression. And for the first time since their loss, y/n found herself surrendering to the comfort he presented, allowing herself to lean on him, to find consolation in his inexorable aid.

As she tucked away the last memories of her late friend, tears flowed freely, each drop a cathartic release of the pent-up emotions she had been holding back. With Gale by her side, she felt safe to let it all out, to mourn the loss of her dear friend without fear of judgment or disappointment. In the embrace of his arms, she found strength, a sense of peace washing over her like a gentle tide. Slowly as her pain began to ease, she knew that she wasn't alone in this struggle — for Buck was there, a steadfast presence amidst the storm of her emotions, showering her with solace and love in her darkest hour.

As the tears subsided and exhaustion washed over them, a weight that seemed to have settled upon the girl's shoulders like a heavy blanket. y/n found herself relaxing fully into the man's muscular arms; the rhythm of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his hug cocooning her in a sense of security she hadn't felt in a long time. Engulfed by the gentle lullaby of his presence, her eyelids grew heavy with fatigue, and with a contented sigh, she submitted to the sweet nuzzle of sleep. Nestled against his chest, she found joy in the peaceful realm of dreams, knowing that she was safe and loved in the arms of the man who had become her rock in the midst of her internal tsunami. And as she drifted off into slumber, she whispered a silent thank you to the universe for bringing him back into her life. 

Sitting in silence with the girl snoring and snuggling closer to the blonde, fast sleep, Buck let weight of his misery mingling with the fading light of day as he smiled wryly at his lady. Watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, the faint rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds provided a backdrop to their shared solitude. In that moment, as they held each other amidst the backdrop of their shared misfortune, Gale Cleven realized that his feelings for y/n ran way deeper than mere friendship. She was his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his guiding star in the darkest of nights. 

Pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, the blonde vowed to be there for her, to comfort her and to love her, for as long as she would allow him to, and even forever after.

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