Journey - REVISED EDITION

Doubts, Memories, and Quitting Lungs

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, WHICH RIGHTFULLY BELONG TO ANTHONY HOROWITZ. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT.

Falcon opened his eyes when he heard the stifled laugh. They were all there, in the doorway. Eagle was clutching his stomach, tears of silent laughter rolling down his face. Wolf was grinning, actually grinning for once, while Snake had his phone out, snapping pictures of Falcon and the boy asleep on his chest. Fox was smiling, behind them, and gave Falcon a nod of approval, to which he responded with a nod of his own.

Falcon shifted on the bed, his back and neck screaming from being in the same position for most of the night. He ran his fingers through his hair, which had first been shaved for the military but was now growing back by inches. It was a little longer than he liked, but he'd deal with it. There were more important things to attend to. Like getting out of this compromising position.

Last night's episode hadn't caught him completely by surprise. The boy's panic attack wasn't entirely unexpected but thankfully, he still remembered how to calm down someone after one. He'd done it plenty of times for his childhood friends (and himself after they left).

It had certainly been an experience that he was not like to forget very soon. The teen's broken, empty, terrified, brown eyes staring into his own. The way Alex had clutched at him as he struggled to ground himself, to do the simple act of breathing.

Falcon had a big heart. Or at least, it'd been more obvious before he'd joined up. The military had sobered him, changed him more than he liked to admit. He still laughed, and cracked corny jokes and pulled pranks, but he left all the craziness to Eagle. Mainly, he was just there for his team. If any of them needed to talk, he listened. He held them when they cried, and partied when they'd had a good day. B-Unit called him Mom, saying he should have been a psychologist. It was a running joke at Brecon Beacons. Mom, the twenty-five year-old Irish dork, who danced funny, sang well, and cheered up the meanest person just by being there. They told him his smile was contagious.

Yeah. That's what his friends had said too. Back when life was so very different.

He could relate to Alex in some way, he supposed. They were both lost, lonely, people just trying to carve out their way in the world, recover from their past, but then fate kept stepping in with different ideas.

It'd been a while before he'd witnessed something like that. And it made him miss his family. Not his blood family. No, his second family. Don't think about them. It'll only bring pain.

"So. Anything new?" Falcon asked the unit, yawning.

Wolf shook his head. "Looks like this is the only difference. What happened?"

Falcon looked down at Alex, thoughts swirling once again. Did he have a right to spill Alex's secrets? What had happened last night was very personal, very private, and very, very embarrassing. If he had a chance on being there for the teen, helping him move on from whatever had happened to him, well, he wasn't about to burn his bridges before they were even made.

"He needed some company." He smiled then laughed. Judging by the looks on his team-mates' faces, they clearly weren't buying it.