Martin dies in a plane crash while flying for Swiss Airways (His captain's fault, everyone's torn up because Martin was the only one who died)
Martin can't believe it when he sees MJN after he opens his eyes. He thinks it was all a dream.
There's something wrong, though. They're all in black, standing outside a church. He doesn't remember going to a church! And they all look so… sad.
Naturally, he goes up to them. "Are you lot alright?" he asks. They don't answer.
"It was a beautiful service, wasn't it?" Carolyn asks, staring down at a gravestone with a freshly filled grave in front of it. Who died?
"He'd have been honoured," Douglas states, voice tearful and cracked. Martin almost doesn't recognise it.
"Why did Skip die?" Arthur asks. What? He's not dead! He's right here! Hello! OJS! "He was the only one! And it's not fair! He was way too young!"
He remembers. He remembers glass shattering in his face, he remembers fire licking at his arm, he remembers his head being thrown forward and back, his neck making and awful snap, and then darkness.
He looks down at himself. What's left of his uniform is torn, bloodied and charred; only a faint trace of navy and gold bars remain… And his hat is gone. He looks like some kind of zombie, except his face feels intact when he touches it and his hands are not bloody.
That night, he walks into Arthur's room. The steward is asleep, albeit fitfully. "Arthur…" He says gently, "I know you can't hear this, but I want to say goodbye. You were a cheery ray of sunshine on dark days. You cheered people up and that is a beautiful thing; don't let my death stop that enthusiasm of yours. Don't let it trouble you anymore. If you need to forget, forget me. If you want to forget, I understand. Just… don't be hurt anymore."
As Martin turns to leave, a faint glow lights the room, barely an ember at first but then grows into a brilliant golden light. Martin turns again to face the steward.
The light's source is Arthur's heart; Martin can see the boy's entire chest glow from that spot. The steward grows more at ease in his sleep and Martin knows, instinctively, that come tomorrow Arthur would have no memory of him.
The next one to say goodbye to is Carolyn.
Her room is not as he thought it would be. He was expecting royal reds, blues and purples; not pastels and faint florals.
"Carolyn," He greets, the same softness to his voice as when he bid his last goodbye to Arthur, "You were almost like a mother to me. In fact, I think you were. If Arthur has forgotten me, forget me too. I can bare you all looking so sad because of my bad luck. I promise I won't be upset."
As he turns away, the same golden glow shines throughout the room, but this time he does not turn back to see her sleep ease. He has one more stop tonight.
Douglas is barely asleep. He is tossing and turning, tangling the bed sheets around his legs. Martin sighs, perching on the edge of the bed.
"Douglas, I know we said some things, both of us, that we regret. I know I have, at least. I don't know why I said them, I just did and, well, I regret them. I just want you to know I… I love you, Douglas. More than Theresa. I mean, I was fond of her but I don't think I was in love with her. Not as much as you anyway…"
Martin notices Douglas' breathing quickening. Thinking the man is having a nightmare, he turns to face him.
Douglas stares back, eyes wide. "M-Martin?" he whispers, voice barely stronger than a summer's breeze.
"Douglas? You can… You can see me?!"
"Oh God! I'm going insane!"
"No Douglas! It's me, it's me!"
"It can't be! You said… You said you love me!"
"I do…"
"But…"
"Douglas… Can you… Can try and, I don't know, kiss me? Just this once?" Martin asks.
"Now I know this is a dream."
Martin smiles sadly. "It isn't. But what do you have to lose?"
Douglas leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Martin's cheek. The dead pilot is cold against his lips and the sensation is strange; sort of… there but… not.
A white light begins to pulsate around Martin like an ora and both pilots stare in wonder as the torn uniform begins to mend itself whole again, paling to a brilliant white with four silver bars and a white hat with silver braid. And, last of all, a pair of soft, swan like wings fading into place, fluttering softly.
"W-what's happening?" Martin asks.
"Your last goodbye, you got what you wanted…" Douglas smiles, eyes filling with tears.
"But… but you can see me! You love me too! You kissed me! I want to stay!" Martin cries.
"How do you feel if… I came with you?" Douglas asks.
"B-but wouldn't that mean you'd… you'd -"
"Yes, I'd be dead; but I'd be with you."
"Douglas, I can't ask you to do that -"
"You don't have to ask, you just have to agree and hold my hand as we walk into the light…" Douglas nods to the white light shining behind the angel.
"I would love to be with you…"
Martin pushes of the bed, facing the light for a moment before turning his head and shoulders to face the older man, offering his hand.
Douglas stands and takes Martin's hand. The white light flows from Martin, wrapping around Douglas to transform his pyjamas into a white and silver… first officer's uniform.
"You will always be my captain…"
When Martin looks at Douglas' face, it is years younger and his hair is a natural brown again. There are no laughter lines, no bags under his eyes; Douglas looks his age.
"It was always my favourite age," Douglas shrugs and Martin smiles back.
As they step into the light together, new wings brushing; they know this is not the end of their story, just a new chapter.