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JAMES JACKSON HAD THOUGHT HIS BROTHER WAS DEAD

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JAMES JACKSON HAD THOUGHT HIS BROTHER WAS DEAD.

When he was thirteen, Axel Leo Jackson- who was eighteen at the time, had been recruited to a certain secret wing of the military that he wasn't allowed to disclose much about.

Three weeks later, he was deployed on a 'secret' mission- never to be heard from again.

Now, there was a man- who looked exactly like an older version of his brother, standing on his porch, with a small smile.

"You're-" his voice shakes as he points accusingly at him, "I thought you were dead."

Axel only looks down at his feet, before tilting his head to the side- swallowing tensely.

"Kinda wish I was," he says quietly, "I might as well be-"

"Oh, you fucking-"

James lunges for him.

It was not a friendly lunge.

More a 'I'm-going-to-fucking-kill-you' lunge, rather than a 'I'm-going-to-hug-you-because-I-fucking-missed-you' lunge.

Fortunately for Axel, his reflexes kick in as he grabs James' fist, twisting it behind his back before it can hit him.

"You've got a good swing," he mutters conversationally, tightening his hold on his fist and wrist as James hisses out a curse, "Good strength behind it, but a little clumsy and impulsive."

He looks up at Annabeth, who was just staring at the both of them with wide eyes, her lips parted in shock.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he says apologetically as her eyes flicker to him, "I promise I'm not hurting your husband- just preventing my face from getting punched, and I really didn't mean to come here to start a fight-"

"Oh no, don't apologize!" she says hurriedly with a reassuring smile on her face, before she narrows her eyes at James, "someone else should be apologizing for throwing fists at guests-"

"Sweetheart," James interrupts her through gritted teeth, "I don't think you'd want to see me punch someone in the face, so you should probably head inside so that this bastard-"

"Y'know if I'm a bastard, that would make you a bastard too," Axel inputs.

James does not seem to appreciate his input.

His reflexes manage to prevent him from getting elbowed in the jaw, as he manages to duck out of the way- and grab his brother's other hand in time.

"Sheesh," he mutters under his breath, "I'm sorry, okay? I can explain-"

"You do know," James grumbles, "That that phrase, is never the correct phrase to use, right?"

"And you do know," Axel mocks childishly, "that I'd like my face intact, right?"

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