Nathaniel Posey (twentytwenty) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-12-28 16:24:00 |
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They were leaving NAS Lemoore. That was the decision they’d made after a month of going back and forth. With only ten fighter pilots left on base, survival was getting more difficult, and without anything tying them there, they had all started to ask the ‘what if’ questions about their family and friends. But the thing was, Nathan hadn’t realized how hard it would really hit him, or how final it would feel. So, while the trucks had already been lined up at the main gate that morning, packed with what supplies they still had, and everyone else was still going through the last of their personal belongings, he was in the hangar with the jets. It was just a plane, it didn’t even belong to him really, he knew that. But it had been an extension of him for so long that he didn’t think he could leave without seeing her one last time. With some effort, he had hauled a set of stairs over to sit beside the jet, parking himself at the top, back against the cool exterior of her cockpit, with his eyes closed. His duffel bags had been left on the concrete at the foot of the stairs, and sunlight streamed in through the crack in the hangar door. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was just another day, getting ready to run maneuvers, waiting for his WSO to quit dragging his feet so they could get in the air. But it wasn’t just another day, and this wasn’t going to be something he repeated. After they left Lemoore the only thing he’d have left was the memories. He’d been flying for more than ten years, over oceans and in dangerous territory, so even though it felt sentimental and maybe a little silly to say goodbye like he was, it also felt like the right thing. She had never let him down once, his bird. He’d always come back every time, but he wasn’t optimistic that he’d see the air in her again; even if the Navy hadn’t entirely dissolved, it was a good guess that they wouldn’t be looking to utilize their fighter pilots in the near future. The Army and their soldiers were more suited to fighting zombies, he guessed. Nathan had been in the hangar for a while when the silence of the building was broken by the sound of footfalls. Through the heaviness in his chest, and despite wanting to be left alone for just a little longer, he cracked an eye open to find out who had interrupted his farewell. Lt. Nathalie Gutierrez was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a quirky, knowing smile on her face. “Thought I’d find you here,” she said, hands on her hips. “Daley will be pissed when he finds out he owes me ten bucks. Jackass didn’t think you’d do this goodbye shit.” The smile he gave her in return was half-hearted. Nathalie was a good friend, so if someone had to invade, at least it was her. She was the only female pilot in her squadron (the Tophatters), tough as nails, and no doubt tasked with watching out for Nathan after Jackson had left. He’d never asked officially, but he just had that feeling in his gut. “Where’d he think I was?” Nathan scrubbed at his face, trying to get rid of most of the wet on his cheeks. Despite his attempts not to, he’d shed a few tears. It was more than just saying goodbye to components and metal though, it really felt like he was closing up part of himself. “Fucking that brunette.” Nathalie rolled her eyes, like even saying the assumption was annoying to her. “Brittany. The one that came in with that group a few months ago.” “What made you think I wasn’t?” “Please. Your priorities aren’t that fucked up, Posey.” She snorted and gave him a look like his question had been dumber than Daley’s assumption. “Besides, you bounce off of blue eyed brunettes like they’re going to burn you if you stand too close.” Raising his eyebrows, Nathan straightened his posture and studied her. Pulled out of his nostalgia and reminiscing. He hadn’t realized that fact about himself, so he was taken aback that Nathalie had, or that anyone had paid enough attention to the women he picked up to find a pattern at all. Even for him it was hard to keep track. “Y’all been spyin’ on me, Nat?” He joked. Climbing a few of the stairs, she settled with her back to him just a step below where he was sitting. “It’s not that hard to notice.” Nathalie angled so she was looking at him upside down. “Besides, Casanova, I’m a woman. We’re observant.” She shifted again so she was sideways on the step, and he settled back against the plane hesitantly. It wasn’t really the right time to open up a conversation about his preferences, but Nathalie usually did what she wanted, so he wasn’t sure if she was going to continue or not. He hoped not. “Stop giving me that look. Jesus Christ, Posey. I’m not head-shrinking you.” She laughed, and embarrassingly he breathed an audible sigh of relief. “You and me are just going to sit here until you’re ready to haul ass back to the trucks, got it?” Nathan gave her another smile, shaky, but easier than the first, and nodded. “You already said goodbye?” He jerked a thumb towards the part of the hangar that housed the Tophatter jets. “With ugly crying and everything,” Nathalie confirmed. “That was a few days ago. Figured someone had to be the rock while the rest of you finally got your heads out of your asses and stopped acting like leaving these beauties wasn’t fucking killing you.” She was smirking at him when he slanted an eye open again. “Daley cry?” “Like a baby. It was touching.” There was silence after that for a good ten minutes, and with each second Nathan felt his shoulders get lighter, until eventually he looked at his friend and asked, “Do y’all think we’ll ever fly ‘em again?” “I hope so, but I don’t know.” Nathalie stood and stretched, then offered a hand to him, like she’d sensed that they were done even though Nathan hadn’t said anything. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time.” The metal stairs clattered with their movement, but they were solid, they stayed put. Nathan didn’t know how many times he’d used them, or a set like them to climb in and out of his fighter jet. Somewhere in the thousands maybe. Standing at the top after he’d hauled himself up with Nathalie’s help, it really hit him that today was more than likely the last day he’d ever stand on them again. Instead of ruminating on that thought for real long though, he memorized the lines of the plane instead. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture of her, resting a hand against where Lt. Nathaniel “Houdini” Posey was inscribed in clean, white letters. “Gonna lock up the hangar,” he said with a decisive nod, sliding his phone back into his pocket, then glancing down to where Nathalie was already on the concrete waiting for him. “Don’t reckon I want anyone fuckin’ with her, just in case.” Giving the metal one last caress, he descended the stairs without a second look, and pushed them back to where they’d been before. “So, Texas, huh?” Nathalie hoisted one of his duffels onto her shoulder. Hoisting the other, Nathan nodded. “Yeah, got family there.” “Me too.” Her callsign was Lonestar, it wasn’t a surprise. But he grinned at her anyway, then scrubbed at his face again, like he could erase the puffiness and red-rimmed eyes if he worked at it hard enough. “Reckon we’ll get to travel a ways together then.” “Looks like.” Nathalie waited while he closed up the hangar, both of them took one last look at the jets housed within. “Guess I can handle that.” “Y’all get us a vehicle?” He fell into step beside her. “Hell yes. There’s no way I’m riding with Daley and his crew. We’ve got a truck with Kwon, Alderson, and Garcia,” she answered quickly. “I even negotiated so you get to drive first.” “You treat me so well, darlin’.” Nathan knocked his shoulder against hers, spotting the small shapes of the trucks in the distance. “Are we lead?” “Would I make you follow?” “Careful, you keep sweet talkin’ and I’ll be fixin’ to kiss you, Gutierrez.” “But what kind of ideas would that give Daley?” They both laughed, a little shaky, but it was a good way to close a chapter. |