Chapter Text
Sam watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, obscured by the flag draped motionless over it, taps playing softly in the background.
He remained stoic, hands folded neatly in front of him, legs parted in a slight parade rest, mouth a tight line, but there was nothing he could do to stop the tears from slipping silently down his cheeks.
It had been such a normal mission. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing even unusually dangerous. But that didn’t stop the cruel hands of fate from ripping Riley from the sky.
Their job was to save people, and yet, no one was able to save him. Sam knew that regret churning in his gut was something he would never quite get over.
It was a small funeral. Riley didn’t have a lot of family — his parents having died only a couple years ago — and they had been the only two with the wingsuits, so while their squadron showed up, Sam was the only one who really knew Riley.
He was the one who knew Riley’s laugh, his eyes, his smile, every emotion to ever interact with his voice and flit across his features. He knew his joys and his heartaches. He knew his mind and his heart. He knew him as more than a fellow soldier, he knew him as Riley, soft smiles, witty jokes, gentle nudges, everything that added up to create the man that is- was Riley. He had once seen his whole world in Riley’s eyes, seen hope and love and a future, but now he was haunted by those same eyes, empty and unseeing.
He wanted more than anything to see those eyes shine again, had begged, pleaded with God, the universe, anything and anyone he could think of to bring them back as he cradled his body on the field, but no one answered.
Now, he was staring at a mound of dirt, sickeningly similar to the dirt that had mingled with Riley’s blood and Sam’s tears. Dirt he was still trying to wash out of his clothes and clean off his wings. It never cleaned off. Even after endless washes, he always felt like he could still see it, the same way he would wake up in the middle of the night still feeling blood, sticky and warm, coating his hands as Riley- his Riley grew cold.
A chill breeze swept through the cemetery, pulling Sam out of his thoughts. He forced himself to blink away his tears, carefully wiping his cheeks as he turned. He stopped, though, when he saw a small figure curled up on the ground, knees tucked to his chest as he stared at the dirt with red eyes.
Peter, he realized. Riley’s little brother. Riley always talked about him, how energetic and smart and kind the boy was. Sam would tell Riley, ‘he sounds like you’. Riley would respond with a fond smile, ‘Nah, he’s better.’
Carefully, Sam lowered himself to sit next to Peter. They were the only two left, and Sam remembered that Riley had been the one taking care of Peter after their parent’s death.
When Sam sat criss-cross in the grass next to him, Peter silently unwound his arms from around his legs and eased into the same position.
They sat, unmoving, unspeaking, for a long time, just staring at the dirt that their world had been buried beneath.
At some point, Peter had scooted closer until he gently rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam wrapped his arm around Peter and pulled him closer. Neither wanted to break the heavy silence, as if they were still listening for Riley’s voice.
Sam knew he should be at the reception, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Everything that mattered to him was right here, one leaning on his shoulder, the other six feet under their feet.
Eventually, Sam looked down at Peter, taking in the tear tracks drying over his cheeks and his red-rimmed eyes drooping in exhaustion. It had been a long day. The kid had just lost his parents not all that long ago, and now he lost his only remaining family. He had heard the boy had been staying with a family friend for the week before the funeral, but was likely going to be sent to foster care now.
Looking at the kid now, tucked into his arms as his empty eyes remained on his brother’s grave, Sam knew he couldn’t let that happen. He had met the kid briefly a few times and saw the exuberant light shining in his eyes as he rambled on about anything and everything that came to mind, a slightly exaggerated version of the way Riley would sometimes get with certain topics. He had already seen the light drain from one pair of those eyes. He was determined to not let it happen again. He had failed before, but not this time. This time, he would protect what mattered most.
He let his chin rest on Peter’s head, sighing softly as they watched the sun set. Once, Riley had convinced him to sneak out for a sunset flight. It had taken a lot of arguing and teasing, but Sam had given in. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, watching the light of the sunset bathe Riley’s face as he grinned, cheering as they soared through the air with wind ruffling his soft curls. They had gotten lectured for it as soon as they landed, but Sam didn’t regret a damn thing. Now, Sam regretted not doing it more.
Once the sun fell behind the horizon, the air grew colder and Sam knew they couldn’t stay. Carefully, Sam shifted Peter off of his shoulder so he could stand, offering the boy a hand to pull him up.
“How about we get some ice cream?” Sam asked softly, voice nearly hoarse from disuse.
Peter looked up, wide brown eyes meeting his own, and nodded, a small smile reaching his lips.
The next day, adoption papers were signed and Peter became Peter Riley-Wilson.