Chapter Text
You flicked through the channels, bouncing your leg as you tried to find something worth being watched, only to groan when you didn’t find anything, turning the tv off and letting your head fall back against the couch, looking up to the ceiling.
Tomorrow, the dagger squad would be leaving on a mission, one that they couldn’t talk about, but Bradley had told you it would be dangerous.
You had seen everyone two days ago, having grown close to the team even if you weren’t a pilot or, generally, in the Navy, but they all welcomed you with open arms, and the worry you could feel in your chest was not one easily ignored, and was part of the reason why you decided on bailing tonight, skipping going out with them because there was no way you could end the night with anything other than tears and anxiety, and you’d rather sulk at home, rather than in front of them.
Which is why, when there was a knock at the door, you stood slowly, not expecting anyone and not really in the mood to talk, but your neighbours were old, and sometimes they needed help, and you just couldn’t deny them that.
Still, when you opened the door to find a slightly shivering Hangman, hair damp from the fine rain that had started falling over an hour ago, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher, there wasn’t much you could do but jump into action.
“Hangman?” You almost whisper, moving to the side so that he can walk in, stopping just after the door, weary of how wet his shoes are, not wanting to dirty your floors.
“You can take those off, if you’d like, but I don’t mind either way.” You say, pointing at them, too worried with seeing him here than about the state your floor would be in.
“I’ll go grab you a towel.” You add when you glance up at his hair, some of it clinging to his forehead, some strands slowly starting to curl with the warmth of your home.
You made your way to the bathroom, picking a folded up towel and walking back to the living room, seeing him there, still standing in front of the door, eyes focused on the ground until you walked back in, darting up to look at you and offer you his staple smile.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He drawled, grabbing the towel from your hands and patting his hair carefully, not wanting to mess it up from its carefully styled way.
“Watcha doing here, Hangman?” you mused after a moment, flinging one leg up as you let yourself fall on the couch with a smile.
You and Hangman had always gotten along, but there was more rivalry between the two of you than anything else, rarely having had to push that aside to show a more serious side, the only times being when someone dared say something about you, or anyone of the squad, that he didn’t appreciate, darting into action to defend who he cared about.
That was the thing about Hangman, he really, really, acted like a jerk most of the time, pushing people as far as they could go, mocking and joking even when it wasn’t the right time to, but as you started knowing him you understood why he did that, a defense mechanism he could easily hide behind. But there was another side of Hangman, the side of him that would do anything for his friends, even if he wouldn’t admit it, or the side of him that was thoughtful, when he wanted, knowing what everyone drank when they went to the Hard Deck, or to a café, or what they liked or disliked that he couldn’t joke or push about. He knew each single detail that he needed to know, having all of the potential to be the best person out there, but he kept that potential closer to his chest, the arrogant jerk being the easier, and safer, mask to wear.
“Bradshaw said you needed to talk to me.” He said, smirking as he wrapped the towel around his shoulders, the fluffy pink material looking hilarious against the broad man standing in your living room.
And you would’ve allowed yourself to look for a little longer, had you not heard his words with such clarity.
“I did not… I don’t?” You almost asked, shaking your head.
Bradley and you had talked about something, something that had to do with Hangman, and sure, it had been a plan, but it had been muttered while you were mostly drunk, and shouldn’t have held any relevance.
But clearly, it had.
You watched as Jake opened his mouth, clearly somewhat annoyed by the situation and ready to comment about it, but you quickly interrupted him, actually debating on which choice to make.
“I’ll… just call Bradley.” You muttered, looking between him and the kitchen.
“Sure, call Bradley.” He enunciated, grinning when you rolled your eyes at his ways.
You shook your head, taking quick steps to the kitchen and dialing Bradley’s number with a huff, making sure that Jake was out of earshot, not really wanting him to hear.
The line rang once, twice, and a third time before Bradley picked up, cheering with a hello! before waiting for your answer.
He wasn’t drunk, none of them would be, actually getting ready for what had been described as a suicide mission, something that didn’t require alcohol for a good few days in advance.
“Bradley, what the hell?”
“Hangman?”
“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth, nervously pacing the small space of your kitchen, dodging the edge of the table and the fridge at each turn.
“What? This was your idea!” He speaks after a short laugh, as if you were fully aware of what was going on.
“How was this my idea, exactly?” You try not to sound annoyed, not too bothered with the pretty aviator in your living room, but rather with the knowledge he has that you have something to speak about.
“You told me that you were either going to tell him your feelings before the mission, or never speak about them, ever.” He explained, and you were sure that if you could see him right now he’d be in a corner of the Hard Deck, soda in one hand and phone in the other, gesturing enthusiastically with a big grin on his face.
“Exactly. Hence why I stayed at home tonight. I didn’t want to see him.” You answered back, exasperated and anxious now that the man you had slight feelings for was standing in the other room, waiting for you to explain yourself.
Only he wasn’t on the sofa where you had left him anymore, safely out of ear shot, no, he was now standing just outside the kitchen door, away from your view but hearing everything.
And it hurt.
Sure, you always argued and teased each other, your relationship more tense than his and Bradley’s had been, you and him always trying to one up the other, trying to humiliate each other by crashing by their side with an embarrassing comment about them just as they had scored someone at the bar, or making jokes that were a little too personal to not sting.
But he liked you, the way you answered back, never backing down.
And as much as he didn’t expect you to like him, he hadn’t expected you not to, going as far as not wanting to see him, the playful digs at each other maybe not as playful as he had initially expected.
So he stayed there for a moment longer, sighing as he frowned, turning to grab his jacket and make his way to the door.
“Hangman?” You called from the kitchen, the silence being interrupted by a slight shuffling and steps making you worry he was leaving, which, you came to realize when you saw him in front of the door, he was.
He closed his eyes, defeated, opening them only to see you sending him an apologetic smile and raising a finger to tell him to wait, slipping back into the kitchen.
And that’s what he did.
He set his jacket back down and made his way back to the couch, not wanting to hear anymore words, taking a deep breath when you walked back out, smiling at you like he always did, his staple smirk back on like a mask, even if the last thing he wanted to do was smile right now.
“Do you want to watch something?” You offered, nowhere near ready enough to do the talking you knew you had to be doing, turning the tv back on as you approached him.
“Is this a joke?” Jake bit when you sat by his side, turning to face you.
It broke your heart a bit, that question paired with the look on his face.
Jake was a confident man, one that would flash a smile even when he was clearly in the wrong, yet here he was, frowning at you at the absurdity of the situation.
“What?” You ask, taking a sharp breath in.
You were planning on telling him how you felt, but this was less than ideal.
The plan had been to tell him at the Hard Deck, maybe with a beer in hand, with some music drowning out the silence, not in your living room, sitting on the couch, knees touching ‘cause of the lack of space and nothing to distract you from how quiet the room was.
“Is this a joke? Bradshaw telling me to come over because ‘you needed to talk to me, urgently’” he air quoted, rolling his eyes, “and then you not knowing anything about it?”
You took a deep breath in, another one, not sure if you needed more oxygen or less as you stood, starting to pace the room again.
“It’s not a joke.” You muttered, looking at him but then settling on looking at the floor ahead of you instead, stopping right by the door, his wet boots still lying there.
He came for you, rushed to your door, rain and all, because of what he now thought was a joke.
And as much as it was Bradley’s fault, you weren’t angry, because this had been your plan all along, before chickening out at the last moment.
“Then what is it?” He asked, turning to face you, giving you the time to explain as he just sat there, back straight and face stern, the fluffy towel only adding to the image, somehow.
“It’s… a misunderstanding.” You said, starting to pace again.
You talked to Jake almost every day.
Texts and calls were the norm, as well as meeting wherever you could, whenever he wasn’t off training or studying or flirting with someone that wasn’t you.
And yet now talking was the last thing you could do, especially while looking at him.
But you couldn’t avoid it anymore when he stood, stopping in front of you and holding one arm out, not touching your arm but hovering by it, waiting.
You nodded, calming down the tiniest bit when his hand made contact with your skin, a shaky sigh leaving your lips.
“All that pacing is making me nervous.” He said with a chuckle, that grin back on his face.
“Was making me nervous too, even if it was supposed to help.” You admitted, following him back to the couch, sitting so as to face him, gulping down your fears as you looked at him.
“So?” He asked again, shaking his head and frowning again, even if a smile did grace his face soon after, soothing your nerves while making new ones rise.
“It’s stupid.”
“I thought it was, yeah, but then you started freaking out, so I don’t think it is stupid, actually.”
You couldn’t tell if he was being mean or kind with his words, his tone softer than it usually was, but either way, it made you feel a little better about it, realizing that if you had felt this enough to go through with it with Rooster, and had gotten this far without finding an excuse or simply throwing Jake out of your house, then maybe there was a reason to that.
Maybe you wanted him to know.
You finally sighed, looking at your knees, leaning into Jake’s touch for a second before straightening back up, trying not to frown when his hand fell back to the couch, rather than on you.
“I have a little, slight… small…” you kept trying to add to it, as if it would make the revelation any less difficult.
Which was weird, because you knew that no matter what, Jake wouldn’t just waltz out of your life ‘cause you had a crush.
You could still be friends, surely, even when he told you he didn’t feel the same.
But you also knew that keeping it in wouldn’t make this crush go away, most likely.
“Obsession with synonyms, it seems.” He joked, smirk ever present.
“Jake” you muttered, shaking your head once again, too concentrated on trying to find the right words to break the news, hands shaking slightly as you thought.
He gave you some time, noticing every little thing, wishing he could reach to grab your hands and stop their shaking, but not wanting to overstep, wanting to give you the chance.
So he waited, and you thought, until he sighed, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes.
“Well, wake me up when you figure it out.” He teased, opening one eye when he felt you tugging on his sleeve, pulling him back up with an adorable pout, your feelings clearly making this hard for you.
“No need to be such a jerk.” You mumbled, taking a deep breath.
“No need to make this such a big deal.”
“You don’t even know what this is about!” You argued back, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Sometimes you wondered how you could have a crush on a man that made you feel so many things, and other times you knew that that was the exact reason why you did.
“Let me guess.” He started sarcastically, crossing his legs and bringing a hand under his chin, pretending to ponder. “You’ve found a new job? No, you’ve decided to move and leave me all alone? No, not that either. You’re getting married! No, no one knows how to deal with you but me,” He listed on, making you blush, both from anger and from his words.
“Maybe you’ve gotten a pet?”
“I have a crush on you!” You finally spat out, letting the anger from his mockery speak for you before it vanished, leaving you to see exactly what your words had caused.
His whole face fell, expression growing blank as he kept his eyes on you.
You hadn’t expected this reaction. This was bad.
Bad, bad, bad.
“Oh.” He barely muttered, taking a deep breath in before moving to sit so as not to face you, unable to, now.
You bit your lip, trying not to panic while your eyes quickly filled with tears, willing them not to fall at the clear rejection, yet feeling the first one slide along the skin of your cheek soon after.
Standing up, you could still feel your hands shaking, but this time not out of nerves.
“Anyway, I’m going to go to bed. Good luck on your mission.” You said quickly, stopping just in front of your door when he called your name, his eyes drawn to the floor when you turned.
“We can talk about it when I get back.” He said then, finally looking up to you to send you a quick smile, before walking towards his boots and putting them on.
“Yeah. Goodnight.” You mumbled, too emotional for anything else.
Even if it had gone terribly wrong, you still loved him.
He was one of your best friends, no matter the relationship you always shared, the tense teasing and mocking you reserved for each other.
And now, even if his words didn’t make you feel any better, you didn’t care. You wanted to run up to him and hug him, knowing how dangerous this mission could be, knowing that there was a chance he wouldn’t come back.
Hell, that had been the reason why you had decided to tell him, thinking it would be better to let him know about your feelings in the off chance he didn’t make it, no matter how much that scenario had been shoved as far as possible from your thoughts.
But now that he stood there, neatly folding your pink fluffy towel with no smile on his face, only a crease between his brows, now you wondered if it had been worth it.
He was going to go to hell and - hopefully - back with the knowledge that whatever he would come back to would be different.
And you’d stay behind, wallowing in your thoughts and worry for your friends, not knowing if you would find comfort in his arms once he’d come back.
You sat on the bed, flinching slightly when you heard the front door close as he left, his footsteps echoing through the night.
Reaching for your phone you texted Bradley, knowing he’d want to know.
You: talked to Hangman
Roos 🐓: How did it go? 💃🕺
Despite it all, you laughed at his choice of emojis. He always had his ways of making you smile, after all.
You: Not too good. Said we’d “talk when he got back” 🙄
Roos 🐓: ???
You: It’s… okay. I’ll figure it out. It’s just a crush.
Roos 🐓: Want me to come over?
He had to leave early the next morning, leaving on a mission he wasn’t sure he’d get back from, and he was still offering to come over.
You laughed at the absurdity.
Compared to his, to theirs, your problem was nothing.
It didn’t mean your crying wasn’t justified, it just meant that him offering to come over was sweeter than it would’ve been on a regular occasion.
You: No, honestly. Just wanted to update you, but I’m fine. Text me tomorrow morning, and go kick some asses 💖
Roos 🐓: you make it sound so sweet
Roos 🐓: but I will !!
Roos 🐓: I’ll text you when I get back.
You: And I’ll come to pick you up when you land :)
Roos 🐓: Sweet dreams
You: Sweet dreams, Roos. And thank you.
Roos 🐓: Anytime.
Roos 🐓: 💖
You took a deep breath as you slipped under the covers, letting your phone to your side and closing your eyes, not sure if you’d get any sleep.
There was a sense of relief, along with the sadness, from having talked, but the distance between you and Jake that could’ve come from it made you feel less than good.
Sleeping would be a struggle, and not only for you, unaware that your soldier was going through the same, only intensified by what he would be facing the next day.