Chapter Text
It was going to be a bad day. Windlifter could see it in the weather patterns, Maru could sense it in the air, and Blade could feel it in his helm. Or maybe it was just something in the morning brew.
Sleeping in, by any means, was next to nonexistent for the majority of the staff on the base. The only times anyone slept past their alarms - they all had their own, ranging from the usual 6:30 to Blade’s why-do-you-even-get-up-at 4:00 - was on the chance that they were sick, injured, or in some form unfit for work. Which meant… oh. Those.
Maru called them demons. Blade called it hell. Dipper simply referred to it as the brain's thoughts and emotions coming back to haunt...with an unquenchable rage.
But migraines weren't as common as they used to be anymore. Actually, the lack thereof was somewhat recent, probably within the last year or so the tug suspected, though he'd have to dig through the off-time histories to be sure.
For as long as he could remember, Blade struggled with migraines. Even as a child, he was subject to their torture. They'd been less frequent then, but they still happened at least a few times each year. Worse still were the few, three and counting to be specific, cluster migraines that he'd endured in his youth. All of them occured within months of the loss of Nick. And all of them were beyond hell.
But it had been a while since anything bad had even popped up. Maru knew that Blade didn't actually tell them about all of them - though he certainly had more than enough vacation time - because if there was even a chance that the chopper could work, he'd be out there with as much Aleve as he was allowed pumped through his system. Somehow he'd managed this long.
But there were still treadfulls of incidents within his time on the base that he needed the day to rest and heal. Maru and Wind both knew full-well the red and white helicopter's headaches were no joke - they'd seen enough, and known him long enough, to know that it was, actually, that bad. If helm pain could do worse than busted engine parts could, it was bad, especially for him.
But the newly certified and war-coated SEAT, however, was unaware. It was only natural for him to come wandering into Maru’s workshop late that morning with the face of utter confusion.
“Have you seen Blade?”
“Windlifter’s taking over for now, just another one of those days.” Maru said, as though the quick-talked briefing was common and the other totally knew what he meant. When the crop duster still stood blocking his exit from the garage, it finally clicked in his head that he didn’t get it.
“Always forget that you’re still new here,” Maru said, more to himself than to the plane, “Sorry, Blade’s had to take the day off. Migraines are bad today.”
The confusion on the aircraft’s face suddenly shifted into mild concern, “Oh, is he alright?”
“He’ll be fine, it’s normal.” The forklift told him, “It ain’t gonna kill him.”
“Well yeah, but he’s...out for the whole day because of it?”
“Blade’s mind is kinda, how did the therapist say, “fucked up”, if you didn’t notice.” Maru dead-panned.
Though the red and white plane still felt lost and concerned for his chief, there wasn’t time for any more questions. The team was swarmed with calls all morning, so every chance he thought he’d had to ask if there was something he could do was lost, as the only thing he was asked to do for the day was his job.
Windlifter did a fine job as a fill-in, though to him it seemed clear he wasn’t exactly “used” to being on the top seat. He was the type that wordlessly heeded a command from a trusted leader, not gave them. That talent required a certain level of wordability he hated having to tap into. Still, he was used to the job enough and used to hearing their chief in command enough that he knew what to do.
The day never seemed to end. Where one spotfire ceased, another two emerged, and for every false alert they answered to, another real one followed. Even the pros were worn tired by the end of the day.
“It feels like last July all over again..” Dusty said.
The evening, thankfully, was the beginning of the end of the storm for them. The weather was beginning to cool off substantially as the heat of the sun went away, and the business of the Lodge died down as folks started to head back to their rooms for the night. Dusty finally had the opportunity to either ask or outright check for himself that Blade was alright, and would be back in service by tomorrow. Wanting to be careful, he went to ask Windlifter about it first, only to find the Sikorsky had also seemingly vanished from the base.
The former crop duster turned to the only place he thought the other might be, and upon seeing the silhouette of his form from the light in the room, he made his way down straight for the chief’s quarters.
As he neared the open doors to the hangar, he could hear Maru’s distinct chuckle;
“Heck, should’a seen the kid this morning, he’s been worried all day.”
“I don’t blame him, he hadn’t known.” The familiar tone of Blade gave the crop duster a sigh of relief he hadn’t known he was holding. He rolled up beside the larger green Chopper, “Hey, sorry to intrude.”
“You didn’t miss anything, just updating.” Maru told him.
Blade was awake at least, though the crop duster probably wouldn’t put him much past that. He was still laying, landing gear tucked up, on his sleeping mat on the floor, and while he was plenty communicative, it was clear he was making an effort to move as minutely as possible. The light probably wasn’t helping.
“Better after a bit or R&R?” Dusty asked.
“Eh, it’s bearable again.” Was Blade’s reply, “But I can’t stay down forever. Wind, by the way, I seriously owe you one for today.”
“A raise would be nice.” The Sikorsky responded, and if you squinted hard enough you could see the rise in the corners of his mouth at his sarcastic humor. The chopper was next-level.
“I’ll consider it if the rest of the Board does.” the red and white helicopter replied, with the smallest jolt of a chuckle.
“A’ight, well, if all’s well I’ll be signing off for the night then; Gentlemen-” Maru turned to face the three of them as he passed the doors of the hangar, and, putting on his best show voice, added, “Merry migraines to all, and to all a good night!”
“I’ll pass, thanks!” Dusty added as the tug left.
“I second that.” Windlifter said.
“Third. And I have to deal with them anyway.” Blade said, shifting a bit in bed, “Think I’m gonna crash for the night too. Mind getting the light?”
*flick*
“Way ahead of ya.”
“Night guys,” Dusty said, “See you tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Windlifter added.