Chapter Text
“Hey! Section!”
A hand smacked his shoulder, startling him back to attention. He glanced up from the table to see his best friend grinning.
“Hey, Harper.”
“Whatcha spacing out for? Can’t bear to leave?”
Offering a small smile, he shook his head.
“No. It’s nothing.”
Harper raised his eyebrows.
“Really? Cause you look more like someone who’s coming back from, not going away for a break.”
He shrugged.
“Y’know, it’s not too late to change your mind. I don’t need a babysitter. Wouldn’t want to spoil any special plans you might have.”
He blinked.
“What?”
The gap between that interpretation and the truth was so large, it almost got a laugh out of him.
“Not at all. If you weren't staying with me, the only person I'd meet would be Woods.”
The way Harper's expression instantly furrowed made his smile more genuine.
“Seriously? Man, you need to get out more. No matter how busy you are, you gotta have a personal life.”
“You’re the closest thing I have to a personal life.”
A few weeks earlier, he’d have thought nothing of saying that, carrying on the banter. But now, if he couldn’t convince himself it was a joke, he didn't dare to risk it with him. And so he opted for smiling weakly again. It was rapidly becoming a reflex.
“Yeah. You're probably right.”
Horrifyingly, the blandness of that response still didn't stop him from earning a look of mild suspicion.
“Huh. You sure nothing’s up?”
“Nothing.”
Getting up, he moved briskly away to grab his belongings before his inability to make eye contact betrayed him.
“Are you ready to go? Where's your things?”
Harper waved his hand dismissively.
“I have a limp, not a broken leg. I can carry one bag.”
He frowned.
“You’re already walking more than the physiotherapist recommended. You can't strain yourself if you want to recover well. That's why I'm here, remember?”
“That's why you're here? Thought it was for my amazing looks and incredible personality.”
“Sure.”
If he kept his answers short, he could still make what was really the truth sound like a lie.
“Your bag’s in your room?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Fine, you win. It's right next to the door. Don't be shy to ask for help if it's too heavy.”
Even though it was clearly a jibe, he still felt a flicker of warmth inside. In other, more damning words, his recent habit of over-analysing anything Harper did wasn't disappearing anytime soon.
“Alright. Give me a moment.”
He chuckled.
“We’ve got the whole day, Section.”
And that was precisely what made his stomach twist into a tighter knot.
~~~
“Arrange MEDEVAC extraction to get Harper back to the Obama.”
Hours later, when the adrenaline of combat had cooled to more dull weight shoved in a corner of his mind, when he’d sat down in the medical bay to watch Harper sleeping soundly, it was difficult to recall how calm he’d been then. Confronting mortality came as naturally as breathing for him. Any illusions about there being some unique factor that could insulate anyone from becoming a statistic had disintegrated long ago. He put his all into every mission, but he always accepted it might not be enough. He built ties with his teams, but he inevitably remembered they were fragile. He loved his best friend, but he never forgot that he could lose him.
Still, in the shadow of a burning aircraft, with the body of the team’s undercover operative dumped unceremoniously behind a pile of rubble, seeing Harper struggling to lift himself off the stone tiles stained with soot and blood… The memory’s shock was visceral. Without the numbness of fight-or-flight, with the clinical white of the sheets tucked around Harper, a wave of nausea choked in his throat. He had forgotten that he could lose him. That they could never have another moment together. That he could never have another chance.
He listened to Harper’s faint snores, his own breaths unintentionally falling into sync with the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. What they had was the closest bond he’d ever formed in his life. He’d never had much talent for putting words to feelings, but he’d always known their connection was special. Friends. Partners. Companions through both the mundane and life-and-death situations.
“He put it all on the line for me... for honour and friendship.” That was how Woods had described being rescued by his father. Once he'd matured beyond selfishness, he'd understood putting everything on the line for honour. But only after he'd met Harper, had he truly grasped risking it all for friendship.
And it was friendship. That was all it was. That was all. That was all. If he repeated it enough times, he would believe it. Because what was considered going beyond friendship, anyway? Enjoying the simple fact of your best friend’s company was normal. Dropping every uncomfortable guard kept up around others was natural. Dreading playing second fiddle to a third party was reasonable. Wanting to have your best friend be a central part of your life had to fit within the boundaries of platonic love.
Yet his instincts had carried him to survival countless times, through split-second quandaries conscious logic failed to solve. If those same instincts now told him that something was different, unique, a once in a lifetime chance… Could he ignore it?
His fingers brushed against the side of Harper’s palm. He wondered what holding his hand would feel like.
~~~
“— Section. Sectiooonnn.”
He stirred groggily for a moment, then jerked wide awake.
“What?”
Glancing quickly around, he realised that they’d reached the interchange at least a few minutes ago, judging from how he and Harper were the only remaining passengers on the bus.
“Sorry. I drifted off.”
“No shit. You were drooling on my shoulder.”
His eyes widened.
“Huh?”
Harper burst out laughing.
“I’m joking, man. Calm down. You look horrified.”
He mustered a smile.
“You surprised me.”
“Yeah, well, you falling asleep surprised me too. But in a good way.”
He patted his shoulder heartily.
“You’ve been on edge the past few weeks. Glad to see you relax.”
It grew harder to maintain his smile.
“Yeah. It’s been stressful.”
If he thought he was on edge now…
Harper snorted.
“Understatement of the year. You’re right to get outta here.”
But alone?
“You think so? Why don't you, then?”
This was the only reason why he’d allowed himself to be persuaded into taking a leave of absence rather than filing the retirement paperwork. If he left the service without Harper, he’d no longer be his constant company in missions, briefings, daily life. Sure, they’d keep in touch, but it wouldn’t be the same. He wasn’t immature enough to be insecure over whoever would replace him— at least he hoped he wasn’t— but it was a fact that there would be new distance between them. He wanted to be who Harper made his sarcastic comments to, who he bonded with over danger, who he always trusted to have his back. He wasn't ready to accept losing that. So he lingered, dragging his feet on the path to his final decision.
“Uh…”
Harper shrugged.
“Dunno. Don't have anything to leave for. Like you have your old man, but I don't have anyone waiting for me outside. Might as well stay.”
Could he tell him that he’d be around for him? Make it sound casual, yet sincere?
… He didn’t dare to. There was nothing casual about how he felt, and so it was better to never mention it at all.
Instead, he settled. Like he always did.
“You never know. You could find something.”
“Yeah? What could be so life-changing?”
“Maybe not life-changing, but something else to do, at least. A hobby?”
He laughed.
“No thanks. Between those community centre classes for retirees and a bullet in the head, I’d take the bullet.”
As they stepped off the bus, he made for the luggage compartment before Harper could fight for carrying his duffel again.
“I never said to choose a boring hobby.”
Though he squinted at him lifting both their bags, he didn’t protest.
“Uhuh. Why don’t you give me a suggestion? How'd you pass your so-called ‘golden years’?”
If he carried on like this, pining over missed chances.
“I'll think of something.”
“See? Not so easy, is it?”
Smirking, Harper reached abruptly to mess with his hair.
With each hand occupied with a bulky bag, despite his reflexes’ best efforts, he failed to dodge.
“Hey!”
“What?”
His face gleamed with triumph.
“I'm doing you a favour. Now it looks like a style instead of bus ride bedhead.”
Sighing, he shook his head in an attempt to negate some of the damage.
“You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“Couch? You really are a good host. I was prepared for a blanket on the floor.”
He rolled his eyes.
~~~
Harper stared intently at the TV screen, muttering intermittently to himself.
“… Okay, last target… Already got that disguise back there… Path’s cleared of cameras, all’s good— Shit!”
A flashing red box popped up in the corner of the screen, indicating “Body Found”.
“What the fuck…”
Hitting the menu button, he tossed the controller onto the couch and exhaled deeply.
“That guy was in a sewer! Who the hell goes there?? Shit, that was all the way at the start of the mission, I don’t wanna replay everything… Jesus!”
He placed a cold can of beer on top of Harper's head.
“Having fun?”
“You fucking shocked me, man.”
Grinning, he took the can.
“You’re lucky I put down the controller. I’d have thrown it at you.”
He sat down beside him.
“You look stressed. I thought games were supposed to be relaxing.”
“Nah. Relaxing means it’s too easy.”
“How hard can it be?”
He scowled without any real annoyance.
“Bitch. You try playing it, and then you tell me.”
He chuckled.
“Take a break. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Huh? Why’d I be hungry? Isn’t it only… 20:30?? I swear the sun was still up, like, ten minutes ago…”
“Yeah. Dinner’s overdue. What do you want? Pizza?”
Harper shot him a look.
“If it were any other day, sure. But seriously? It's your first day on break, and you wanna get delivery instead of going out?”
“Well, alright. You pick a place.”
“There’s a pub nearby, right? Might as well get our beers over there.”
“About ten minutes. Which is good, cause if you throw up again, at least it'll be a short drive.”
“Hey!”
He elbowed him.
“That was once. Maybe once and a half.”
“You mean two and a half. Your memory's missing one, cause you blacked out so bad that time.”
His jaw dropped.
“What? When? Why didn't you tell me?”
He shrugged.
“Wasn't a big deal.”
Not to Harper, at least.
Harper scratched the back of his neck.
“Damn. Swear I'm not gonna throw up again. At least not on you.”
“No problem. I'll dodge.”
“Hey, don't underestimate me. What if my aim’s too good?”
His smile broke into a laugh— something always so easy around him.
“Okay. I'll watch out.”
~~~
Gulping down a large mouthful of beer, Harper glanced around with clear enthusiasm, soaking up the buzzing energy of the pub.
“See, Section? Isn't this way better?”
He ate a bite of his burger.
“Not bad.”
He slapped him on the back.
“You’re showing your age, man. Liven up.”
“I’m feeling alive.”
He scoffed.
“Told ya, this is why you gotta drink more. You’re still stuck inside that shell of yours.”
“Shell?”
“Yeah, like those funny little crabs. Changing shells now and then, but never actually taking it off.”
… Keeping his expression neutral, he took a careful sip of beer.
“You’re getting drunk. Slow down.”
He grinned.
“What, too poetic for you? I’ll dumb it down.”
It suddenly felt like his eyes were boring right through him.
“Re—lax. You’re bottling something up. Let it out. Tell me. That’s what friends are for.”
Despite all his carefulness, he couldn’t stop himself from flinching a little. “That’s what friends are for.” That’s what Harper had signed up for. That’s what Harper expected from him.
“Seriously. There’s nothing.”
He smiled as well as he could.
“It’s just all the built-up stress. This is my first real break in a long while. I’m relaxing. I swear.”
His gaze remained intent.
“You swear?”
“Yeah.”
He asked part out of bravado, part out of dread.
“What else could there be?”
“…”
When he broke eye contact to grab a fry, he struggled not to collapse against the bar counter.
“If you say so.”
“Yeah.”
The violence with which his pulse thrummed in his throat made it difficult to swallow.
“Of course.”
Harper smirked.
“Y’know, maybe you just need some hot chick action.”
He coughed.
“What?”
He instantly cracked up.
“Holy shit, your face! Breathe, man. You hate the idea that much, huh?”
Shaking his head, he took a fry as well, feeling his shoulders unclench.
“You just caught me off guard.”
“So that’s not a no? Cause even if this isn’t a hot spot like Colossus, there’s the tourist season buzz, so…”
He chuckled.
“I see.”
He gave him a mock frown.
“Is that doubt I hear? You don’t believe I can score?”
“Whatever you say.”
“You won’t get anywhere without confidence. That’s the key—”
“Hey!”
The waitress who’d taken their order earlier approached from behind the counter, smiling brightly.
“Can I get you guys anything else?”
She gestured at Harper’s mostly emptied mug.
“Another beer? It’s on the house.”
Brows raising, Harper grinned.
“Whoa, seriously? What’s the occasion?”
She tucked a strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear.
“Mm, nothing official. So don’t tell anyone.”
…… He felt his earlier amusement fade.
“Of course, beautiful.”
Harper stayed cheerily oblivious to the shift in his mood. A miracle, considering how it was downright impossible for him to summon any of the jovial support he should have shown as his “best friend”. Or maybe he’d noticed, but thought he was jealous of him. That almost made him laugh.
… God, he wanted to throw up.
The waitress giggled as she placed the frothy mug down, her voice soft and silvery.
“My shift’s ending in thirty minutes.”
Harper leaned against the bar counter.
“You know a good place to go?”
His heart sat in a congealed lump in the depths of his gut.
“Yeah. Nearby, too.”
For a— paralysing, wishful— moment, Harper looked at him.
“Nice.”
He shrugged weakly. It was cowardly. It was right.
“There’s a live band there tonight. Playing metal, if you like that.”
“Love it.”
Reaching forward, he patted her hand.
“But can I take a rain check? I’ve gotta do something.”
Surprise flickered over her face. Shock wiped out the bleakness on his.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Call me, though. Give you my number?”
Her smile bounced back as she handed her phone over.
“Definitely.”
He winked.
“See ya.”
Breaking into another light giggle, she stepped away.
Harper turned to him with satisfaction.
“See, Section? Confidence.”
He needed an extra second to respond.
“You… like her?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Then why didn’t you go?”
“Seemed a little shitty to just ditch you on the very first day, I guess.”
He nudged his arm.
“Plus, you'd do the same for me, right?”
“… Of course.”
Of course he would.
“Exactly. Loyalty.”
He bit the inside of his lower lip.
“Exactly.”
Somehow, this almost made him feel worse.
~~~
He grunted as he supported, or rather, hauled Harper down the walkway.
“C’mon, Harper. Put your back into it. We’re nearly there.”
He lurched forward with a tad more energy.
“Why the fuck… ‘s it so far…”
Sighing without any irritation, he pulled his arm more firmly around his shoulders.
“You’re so wasted.”
“I’m… not.”
“If I let go of you right now, you’d collapse.”
He waved his free hand wildly around.
“I’m not!”
It took all his spare effort to not stumble from laughter and send both of them tumbling to the floor.
“Alright, alright. You’re not.”
“Hmph.”
The childish noise he responded with really didn’t help.
“Much better.”
His cheeks ached from smiling.
“Okay, focus. One step at a time. Don’t trip over yourself.”
“I’m not an idiot, man— Fuck!”
He grabbed his waist, narrowly stopping his fall.
“Careful.”
A frown crumpled his forehead.
“That was an accident. The floor wasn’t flat.”
His self-control shattered.
“If… you say so…”
Staggering to lean them against a wall, he slid to the ground, shoulders heaving with equally childish laughter.
Harper squinted blearily at him for several seconds before crouching down as well.
“Man, you're wasted.”
He gasped for breath.
“Maybe. It's your fault.”
He stared at him with deep offence.
“Fault? Everything I do is to help you, bitch. You should thank me for making you have fun.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
The temptation to record a memento of this night had never been stronger, but he managed to resist.
“Thanks, Harper.”
He smacked his upper arm with an inebriated lack of restraint.
“Mhm. You’d better never ditch me.”
He gave him a look of mild confusion.
“Definitely. Why would I?”
“Dunno.”
Though he smiled, it seemed a little vague.
“Everything changes, y’know.”
His gaze brightened.
“But not us. Right?”
The flush on his cheeks suddenly felt a shade warmer.
“Right. No way.”
Guess he really was pretty drunk.
“Where the hell are ya bringing me, anyway?”
He chuckled.
“Home, obviously. You still wanna go somewhere else?”
“Home? Hey, we're already there.”
“Huh?”
Did he need to be concerned—
“I'm fine.”
Harper rolled his eyes.
“Damn, ever heard of a metaphor?”
“What?”
“Home is where the heart is. Or some sappy shit like that.”
He paused. That was…
“Whoa. Don't look so serious. It's a joke.”
For emphasis, he pulled an exaggerated face.
“I'm not actually getting soft.”
He responded with the grin expected from him.
“I know.”
Indeed, he knew. They had something special, but calling him his heart could only be from an alcohol-induced urge to play everything up.
Still, it was a thought. A funny one, of course.