One cramped hotel room with one hard, lumpy double bed. Scrooge McDuck Air had certainly lived up to its reputation for comfort. Though looking at its one and only Captain you wouldn't think that, reflected Douglas as he turned for the upteenth time, trying to find a position that didn't cause springs to draw blood. It was in moment like these that he envied Martin, who could probably sleep soundly on a concrete floor.
Douglas propped himself up on his elbow, gazing at Martin through the darkness. It always surprised him how young the Captain looked when he was asleep and didn't have to worry about something getting mucked up cortasy of the First Officer. The curls tumbled over his forehead and into his eyes, stirring slightly as he slowly breathed in and out. They covered the worry lines that had already been etched there from years of struggling to get by. Douglas bit his bottom lip as Martin smiled in his sleep.
It should not have been possible for one person to have so much bad luck. Douglas was continually amazed at the situations Martin managed to get himself into. Really, it was a miracle that the boy had never gotten himself killed, never mind how far he'd managed to come. Admittedly, it wasn't that far. Sure he was an airline captain, but he was also unpaid, living above a gaggle of students in a dank attic, and running a van service Douglas knew he hated to (barely) eat and pay the rent. Add that to his many personal and family issues and... well, Douglas could see why he took his status as Sir so seriously.
Douglas rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. There was a reason he didn't often stop to consider (really consider) his friend's true lot. It got him thinking about all the ways he'd had it all and absolutely blew it over and over again. He could be at Air England right now, probably still happy with his first wife and daughter, a captain with a captain's salary...
He'd failed, even though all he had to do was do his job well and keep his nose clean. It was one thing to fail when the whole world was against you, but quite another when you had everything practically handed to you and chose to destroy your life for a couple hundred pounds and a silk komono. Douglas knew who was the bigger failure of the two of them. Even sky-gods can fall, it seemed.
Martin turned and murmered in his sleep. Douglas tensed and grew still, holding his breath, then relaxing when he realized that Martin wasn't going to wake up. Douglas didn't know if he could tease and quip in his mood, when he was reflecting on all the ways Martin was better (or at least more stubborn and less stupid) than he. It... really wasn't fair. Maybe if Douglas had taken on some of Martin's bad luck in exchange for his (seeming inexaustable) good, they would both be happily working at Air England or somewhere similar. Martin would be a happier man, and Douglas would be a better, wiser one.
Seven CPL attempts was really quite outragous. It had only taken Douglas one. Maybe he could have taken three of the failed attempts from Martin. Four attempts each, after all, wasn't bad. Of course, they both would have started out on reserve, but Douglas wouldn't have minded. At that point he hadn't been married yet, so he and Martin could have flat shared. Two actual salaries would mean a moderately nice flat at least. Martin would stop him from doing anything extremely stupid (like smuggling or drinking or marrying his second wife), and he'd make sure that Martin's idiotic family knew just how much of a proper pilot he was and how proud they should be of him...
What was the use of even thinking about it? As it was, Martin had horrible luck and Douglas didn't need bad luck to mess things up. Still, Douglas couldn't help but wish that he really was as good at fixing things as Arthur believed. Lord knows he'd love to fix this, or at least give some of his (completely undeserved) good luck to Martin, even if that meant he received some of Martin's (completely undeserved) bad. Douglas had a niggling suspicion that if he'd gone through what Martin had he wouldn't have come out of the other end intact, but even if he would have broken, he wished that Martin hadn't had to fight like he had.
Martin stirred again and Douglas sighed. If he could trade their places, their luck, their lots in life, everything, he would.