Flew Too Close To The Sun

Chapter 17 and 18

here's your friendly reminder that 18 isn't finished, nor ever will be. and with that, here marks the last official chapter of this fic. stay tuned for another author's notwle sometime.

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Chapter Seventeen

Laughs erupted from the cafeteria, Icarus’ being the loudest of them all. He had decided to make dinner for 141 and KorTac, and was now serving it to what he would call his customers. Except for one. Icarus held a plate out for a woman, but she shouldered him roughly, causing him to drop it. His hand instantly shot to his shoulder, pain bursting from it upon the hit.

Almost as quickly, Ghost had stood from his seat and made his way after her. But Icarus called out quickly, seemingly halting the beginning of a fight, “Ghost. Leave her be. She’s never liked my cooking.” He huffed out a joke, trying to ease the tension in the room. It may have helped the tension, but it didn’t help how dizzy he felt from the pain. Icarus felt himself about to fall, but steady hands caught him quickly. He looked up and saw König looking at him worriedly through his blue eyes. He returned the look with a grin, “Thanks, bestie.”

Icarus looked away from his old friend, “Hey.” He called out to Ghost, who stood glaring after the woman. “Ghost.” Finally, the British man looked at him and instantly they lit up with worry. Icarus lifted the hand that held his shoulder, showing the blood, “Base hospital?” He asked with a grin.

Ghost shook his head, making his way over to the man and pulling him from König’s support gently. He nodded his thanks and led Icarus down the opposite hall where the woman had gone.

━─┉┈┈◈❖◈┈┈┉─━

König watched the two leave, the conversations between members of both 141 and KorTac unregistered in his head. He wasn’t okay with how Roze was so rough with Icarus, but he understood. The way Icarus left KorTac hurt all of them.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking to his left to see O’Conor talking with the man he knew as Gaz. After a moment of staring up at the ceiling, König dismissed himself and quickly made his way down the hall to follow after Roze.

König found her quickly, sitting in her room angry. He knocked on the door and she let him enter. Sitting down on the bed, he scratched his cheek awkwardly, unsure of how to start the conversation. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“It’s unbelievable.” König looked over to Roze, who shook her head with disbelief, “He was like family, and he turned his back on us so quickly. Only to come here? It doesn’t make any sense at all.” With König’s nod, she continued, “What was his reasoning for leaving us again? Because he ‘didn’t like the job anymore.’”

König, after a moment of listening to her rant, spoke quietly, “Do you remember how quiet he had grown after what happened?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead he looked to his hands as he continued, “He didn’t speak with us. He didn’t even make callouts. Just did his own thing silently.”

“Yea,” Roze responded quietly, “I do. He almost cost us a job because of it.”

“But did you see how much he spoke, how expressive and bright he was today?” König pointed out, earning a sigh from Roze.

“Yea.”

“But,” König picked at his fingers anxiously, his brows twisting up in concern, “Did you see his new scars?” He could only imagine what had happened to get them, and anything he did made the pit in his stomach grow deeper, “History is repeating.”