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Just one slip-up is all it would take to unravel everything he had worked so damned hard for all this time. So even though it was late, so late that the entire station was already dark and quiet, Bode continued to scrub the dirt and ash from the truck until it shone like new. He was down to the tires – he always saved the tires for last, because he hated that part – when the creak of a door caught his attention.
He didn’t notice Captain Casey slipping quietly out of the open service bay behind the station. Didn’t track the man’s movements as he wandered further toward the edge of the woods a few dozen yards away.
Or rather, Bode tried not to notice.
The area surrounding Station 42 was heavily wooded, overlooking the peaceful suburb far below, lit only by the ambient light from the homes they risked their lives to keep safe. This town had been Bode’s home since the day he was born, yet at times he still felt unsettled – like he didn’t belong here, like the life he had tried to slip back into when he’d returned two years ago wasn’t truly his.
Casey didn’t have to turn to notice Bode standing there, and he didn’t make an effort to hide the bottle of whiskey clutched at his side, either.
“Hey, Cadet,” Casey remarked, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder from where he sat on an old fallen tree trunk. “Past your bedtime, isn’t it?”
Bode huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Just what I needed – another dad at the station telling me what to do.”
Casey lifted his arm, silently offering Bode a drink of whiskey, but Bode shook his head.
“I’m two years sober this September,” he explained, even though Casey hadn’t asked.
Bode settled quietly on the log beside the training captain, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The night air felt crisp and cool against his skin, the faint scent of pines in the air filling his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, relaxing for what felt like the first time that day.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few long moments, cicadas humming in the distance – a familiar, comforting lullaby that brought memories from his youth along with it. Things were so much simpler back then – he and Jake riding their bikes home from baseball practice. Riley tagging along. Always the tomboy, wanting to tag along…
“Your sister, Riley,” Casey said, snapping Bode from his meandering thoughts. “Were the two of you close?”
He frowned, wondering how the hell Casey had managed to read his mind when Bode realized that he’d been unconsciously tracing over the tattoo of his sister’s name on his forearm.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I mean – she was my kid sister, ya know?” He paused, smiling despite himself at one of the memories he’d only recently begun to allow himself to have. “She could be a huge pain in the ass sometimes. But then… she’d bake these chocolate chip cookies for me. Whenever she wanted a favor – help with a school project, give her a ride to a concert down in Oakland, or whatever. She knew I couldn’t say no. I would give anything just to…” Bode added, trailing off as his voice broke on words that never made it past his lips.
Casey drew in a deep breath but remained silent, then leaned over and gave Bode’s shoulder a strong squeeze. “She’d be so proud of you,” he said quietly. “To see how far you’ve come; where you are today. You honor her memory in every good thing you do.”
Bode blinked away his tears, embarrassed that he’d let his emotions get the best of him. Most days he managed not to think about it, but at times like this he felt shattered to his core all over again – like shards of glass scattered across the highway, irreparably broken. But inexplicably, Casey seemed to understand this more than anyone else ever had.
Casey took a long swallow from the bottle and then set it down beside him. “Somehow, it seems like you- you can prepare yourself for losing a grandparent,” he murmured. “Or a parent, even. But you just never expect to lose your sibling.”
Bode inhaled sharply and turned to study Casey’s face, dimly lit under the light of the moon. He closed his eyes, lashes casting wing-shaped shadows on his cheeks as he abruptly shook his head hard from side to side, as though trying to rid himself of whatever unwelcome thought had just crossed his mind.
“You lost someone, too,” Bode whispered. All the random puzzle pieces of Camden Casey that hadn’t made sense before suddenly slid into place – softly, but all at once. The entirely avoidable bar fight on that first day they’d met. The thinly-veiled despair in Casey’s eyes, always hidden behind a mask of fierce determination.
“My brother,” Casey revealed, his voice gravel-rough. He bit the inside of his cheek, then reached for the bottle again but changed his mind at the last second, clenching his fist tightly instead. “Jesus Christ. He definitely wouldn’t be proud of me now,” he added with a humorless laugh, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Hey,” Bode said, curling his arm across Casey’s shoulders. “Hey,” he repeated. “Cap. Listen to me. He would be. He’d be proud that you didn’t give up. You know me, and you know damn well that we fight the same darkness every Goddamned day of our lives, even though it’d be easier to give up.”
Casey drew in another deep, shuddering breath, choking back an anguished sound deep in his throat. It wasn’t clear whether he actually agreed with anything Bode was saying or if he was just too exhausted to argue with him. Either way, Bode was grateful when Casey willingly leaned in and they curled their arms around one another, sharing a brief moment of comfort under the unfortunate circumstances of shared understanding.
They settled back down, side by side, but not before Casey fondly rustled the too-long hair on the back of Bode’s head, not unlike Bode’s dad used to do when he was little.
“I see a lot of him in you,” Casey admitted. “My brother Patrick, I mean. You remind me of him in so many ways.”
Bode wasn’t sure what he could possibly say in response to that, his emotions already shredded raw after all that had been revealed that evening. Instead he just managed a small smile, and then turned his gaze out toward the vast expanse of stars scattered across the night sky, grateful for the quiet rustle of the wind in the pines around them.