Chapter Text
Charles Calvin was laid to rest at an empty grave on the edge of a cliff. There was nothing to recover, after all, and thus, nothing to bury.
Henry didn’t attend the funeral.
How could he, when he was the reason his best friend had an empty grave?
But at the same time, he should pay his respects, right? Charles died for him, after all. The least he could do is offer condolences to his family-
A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Henry? You in there, son?” a muffled voice called out.
Ah. The general. Probably the last person Henry wanted to see right now. Nevertheless, he sat up from his stained mattress with a groan and trudged over to the door. He cracked it open and blinked in the sudden light.
Galeforce gazed down at him with an unreadable expression— wait, was that pity?— before addressing the younger man.
“Well, Henry, we missed you today.”
Henry nodded but said nothing. He could hear the bugles playing as he drove by the site earlier. A final military send-off to an ace pilot.
Galeforce peeked over Henry’s shoulder into the room behind him. It was in shambles: clothes strewn about, bed unmade (if he could even call that a bed), and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Henry frantically pulled the door closed behind him as he stepped outside into the cool evening air.
“Yeah, I figured it’s been a rough few days for you,” the general commented, brows creasing in sympathy. “I’m just here to let you know, the higher ups decided that you can keep the housing on base, but you gotta start showing up more often. Since you’re a special case, they’re a bit more lenient about training, but you need to participate on missions. Hope you understand, son.”
Henry didn’t make eye contact. ‘I don’t need the housing,’ he signed, slowly. The general was getting pretty good at sign language, but he had trouble keeping up with fast movements. ‘I can do this on my own.’
Galeforce sighed. “And I have no doubt about that, but we can help you get it done. We got all the equipment needed to take down the Toppats. Obtained legally.” Henry rolled his eyes at the emphasis. Galeforce continued, “I know you’re out for revenge, but you need to think this through.” He put a firm hand on Henry’s shoulder. “We don’t wanna lose you too, son.”
He turned to leave, and Henry opened his front door to head inside.
“Oh, and Henry!” Galeforce called back suddenly. The man in question froze but refused to turn around. “I think you should visit Charlie. Whenever you’re up to it. It might do you some good.”
The ex-thief slammed the door. How was the general so composed!? Henry was one misspoken word away from lashing out completely, and here Galeforce was, acting like it was a normal Thursday! The man who was basically a son to him just died and he couldn’t even be bothered to be angry at the one who killed him?
Henry flopped face-first onto his floor mattress. He really should get a bed frame soon.
A flash of brown caught his eye, and he sat up to face an open cardboard box standing ominously in the corner of the room. Tentatively, he stood and stalked over to it, kneeling down to examine its contents.
Just a few days prior, he had taken the liberty of... ‘cleaning out’ Charles’ room, to simply put it. Well, Henry’s definition of it was rather just... piling all of Charles’ sentimental belongings and storing them in his own room instead, but nobody needed to know that. He rummaged through the box and pulled out two items: an unopened headset box and a flat pendant on a chain– dog tags, Henry recalled. He slipped the latter around his neck and clutched the pendant tightly before tucking it into his shirt.
The other tag had been blown up with the space station. With... Charles.
Henry blinked back tears as the memory came rushing back. Now wasn’t the time to be reminiscing. He had already exhausted himself with waterworks the day he got back, after all. Instead, he turned his attention to the headset. It lay unopened in its box, which made sense. Charles had had a couple spares, in case something happened to his current one.
Well, something did happen to his current one.
Henry shrugged that thought to the back of his mind and opened the box. The headset was pristine, shining a vibrant red and untouched by dust while not worn through use. It was... too perfect. False, even. He sighed. It didn’t matter, anyway. No matter how hard he tried, Henry wouldn’t be able to recover Charles’ original pair.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to, anyway.
He slid the headphones around his neck, the weight on his shoulders grounding him. Henry closed his eyes and ran his hand over the smooth texture of the headset and the soft foam of the microphone. Henry sighed and glanced over at his kitchen.
It was extremely small compared to the one in his former house: only two stove burners, a small fridge with a freezer drawer, and limited space in the cabinets. Dirty dishes piled the sink, attracting flies that buzzed around the room annoyingly.
Damn, Henry missed his old house. Sure, it had been only slightly bigger than his current situation, and he was frequently late on rent, but he had lived there for years. It was still his home, after all.
Why did he even move, again?
He closed his eyes as it hit him. Right. Charles had insisted he move in on base after he took the enlistment. Something about convenience.
“We can be neighbors!” the pilot had exclaimed excitedly, wrapping an arm around Henry’s shoulder. “Ohhhh this is so exciting! I can show you the hangar where we keep the choppers, and there’s so many cool people for you to meet! This is awesome!”
Yup. Definitely convenience. No other reason at all.
In the end, Henry had only lived on base for a week before getting kidnapped by the Wall. And yeah, he was still pretty mad about it. Logically, he really should’ve waited for the government to notice before trying to break out, but...
“Henry? Henry! I heard you died!”
The man in question froze as a pair of arms suddenly threw themselves around him. Have they ever hugged before? He reached up to return the hug.
Henry shoved his palms against his temples. God, no, anything but that day.
He sat up with a groan, wincing at the sound of his bones popping. Served him right. He hadn’t left this bed in days. Henry forced himself to his feet and trudged towards the door.
Maybe a walk would do him some good.
- -
Hubert Galeforce sighed as he sank into his chair. He placed his elbows on the desk in front of him and buried his face in his hands. He inhaled deeply and leaned back, staring at the stack of paperwork on his desk from that morning’s meeting.
Even alone in his quarters, work still had to be done.
He cleared his throat and dug out a pen from one of his drawers. Clicking it open, he grabbed the first packet from the pile and got to work.
Paperwork could be oddly therapeutic sometimes.
As he reached for the next packet, his hand hit something hard, knocking it over. His head jerked up, and he noticed the unfortunate victim of his carelessness was a framed picture. Galeforce set it upright and gazed at its contents.
An 18-year-old Charles stood, grinning ear to ear in front of an army helicopter. He gripped a pair of bright red headphones, and Galeforce himself stood behind the teen, hand on his shoulders in a quiet pride. He bore the insignia of a captain on his uniform, something that he had only been promoted from very recently.
Galeforce gently traced Charles’ features as if the glass would break from a wrong touch. It seemed like only last week that the boy had first enlisted, wide-eyed and full of dreams. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Charles would never dream again. He would never spend the winter block leave at his home again. He would never give another lengthy explanation on why the UH-60 Black Hawk was the best model to annoyed pilots again.
Because Charles was dead. And dead men tell no tales.
But Galeforce could remember them for him.
Ten years prior, Galeforce was still a captain on base. Winter block leave was coming up, and soldiers were excitedly discussing plans with their families and friends back home. The captain couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was wonderful how excited everyone was for the holidays.
His weekend was busy approving leave requests from the numerous soldiers on base. As he got to work organising completed forms to return them to their owners, he noticed a curious lack of a form from a certain young recruit.
Charles Calvin.
How odd. Usually, the newest recruits were the ones most ecstatic to return home for the holidays. And since just about every member on base was returning home that year, he would likely be alone for the next two weeks. Oh well. He could simply check on him before he himself returned to his home.
That night, he headed towards the barracks– or dorms, depending on who you asked– and knocked on the door of the youngest recruit.
The door opened immediately, and a bleary-eyed Charles blinked at the unexpected visitor before saluting.
“Ah, Captain! Good evening. Do you- Do you need me for something?”
Galeforce patted his shoulder. “Just checking in, Charlie. I haven’t received your leave form yet. They’re due tomorrow.”
Charles blinked. “Ch-Charlie?” he whispered. He shook his head. “Uh, I don’t really... plan to go home this year?” He grinned sheepishly. “So uh... yeah. I’m- I’m staying on base. I plan to continue my training.” He gave Galeforce a double thumbs up.
The captain raised an eyebrow. “Son, you do realise you’ll be the only person on base, correct? You can’t get much training done without any of the aviation command present.”
The pilot’s eyes widened. Did he not know? He glanced around rapidly, as if searching for something. “Well uh... I’m sure I can find... something to do on base.”
Galeforce sighed. “Charlie, frankly, it’s gonna be just you and the essential personnel, and you’re not going to have much to do. Here.” He handed the teen a leave form. “I’ll accept this until tomorrow evening.” He turned to leave and stopped when he heard Charles call out to him.
“Captain... I... I don’t actually have anywhere to go. For the holidays this year, I mean.” Charles shifted on his feet, eyes locked to the ground. “My folks are... busy, I guess. I’d rather just stay on base.”
The captain froze. That changed things. Before he could fully process what he was saying, he blurted, “Why don’t you come on over to my place then?” He meant it.
Charles’ eyes widened at the offer. His mouth was agape as he stammered. “I- uh- I guess- um- sure! Thank you for the offer, Captain.” He saluted. “But... are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude on your... family or anything.”
“I live alone. If anything, It’d be welcome company,” Galeforce said.
“Ah, okay then. Thank you again, Captain.”
Galeforce smiled. “No problem, son.” He patted Charles’ shoulder and pointed at the leave form in the pilot’s hand. “I want that turned in by tomorrow. Have a good night.” With that, he departed from the building.
Galeforce sat quietly, staring into nothing as he recalled the weeks that had followed. Those were the most tense he had ever seen the young pilot, and it had all culminated in a breakdown during Christmas Eve dinner. Galeforce had been the first person to unconditionally offer him a home. And ever since, the two always spent block leave at the former captain’s abode. Galeforce had been Charles’ first family.
The general quietly pulled the next packet from the pile. Memories could wait. He had work to finish.