Important Author's Note: The rest of this story is over on my ArchiveOfOurOwn/AO3 account PenNameArtist if you want to read the whole thing! As of March 2020 we have five chapters uploaded and plowing through to a sixth. My FFN account, sadly, just doesn't have the same simplicity my poor goldfish brain can understand, so it's been kinda dormant lately. But never fear, my AO3 does contain content! I got more Props to The Proppies shorts I haven't been able to get up over here, some new one-shots, and hopefully more cool stuff very soon! Will try to upload over here if I can though to anyone still just on FFN.
The base was silent except for the sounds of birds chirping in the forest below. Strange for a mid-day in July at the air attack.
Maru was cleaning up the shop which had desperately needed it, wondering where everyone had gotten to. The Smokejumpers were out removing debris on a trail, Windlifter was on a two-day vacation up north to see family, and Dipper was out doing...whatever it is that Dipper does. Stalking probably. But then that begged the question: where was Dusty? Hell, Blade even! It seemed mildly unusual for everybody to have just gone off and disappeared. It was getting kinda lonely now…
But at least he had a full collection of 70s, 80s and 90s rock to play at full blast. More for him then.
Where Dusty and Blade were exactly was a place off the beaten trails of the park that everyone who was in the staff or was a rebellious teen eventually knew. They liked to call it the Secret Dump. An odd name, admittedly, but a fitting one. This was the kind of place that proved to be a good brood spot and a conversation place without the threat of interruptions. And a place to gossip and spread rumors. For Blade, it was just a nice spot to fish.
The pond was small, too small even to be a noticeable point on the map, and it was well hidden by trees and bushes and hills so that it was never visible until you were right on top of it.
"So how good is 'good fishing' here then?" Dusty inquired.
"Get the damn pole in the water and you'll see." Blade said.
The red and white chopper suggested the outing after having an exhausting first month of fires. For now the weather was on the cooler side - surprisingly - and the winds were low and consistent. It was the right opportunity to relax for a while and take a breath of fresh air while it was there.
Dusty was thrilled to go. Not only was it said to be good fishing - something he really needed to do more of now and again - but it was a good chance to really bond with and get to know his fire chief, the one who trained and certified him and whom saved his life more times than he cared to admit. But that was past them and the team had all let bygones be bygones, and now Dusty felt the need to start fresh and really get to know the team for more than just courageous firefighters. An afternoon of fishing seemed like the perfect opportunity for such a thing.
Dusty undid the latch on the reel, swung back a little, and flung the line out into the general area of 'center' of the pond with a little 'plop!' in the water. He locked the reel again and set the rod down into a groove between the rocks that which obviously been used to hold fishing poles before. Blade did the same, holding the center of the pole handle in his jaws as he aimed for the middle of the water. He was a little more successful in his targetting.
"That was a good cast." The little red and white plane said.
"No, that was a lucky cast. I'm usually terrible at it." Blade told him.
The sun shone brightly without many clouds to block it, but the foliage of the trees overheard made for a comfortable, shady spot at the bank of the pond. The shadows made speckled patterns of light and dark over the red and white liveries of the two aircraft. Dusty watched intently as a pair of Balsa thrush fought in tree over a bit of food, chirping angrily at one another. Elsewhere in the woods they could hear meadowlarks and other songbirds trilling away, and a woodpecker somewhere making himself noticed.
Despite the troubles that arose with getting around bushes and trees with fixed wings like his, Dusty truly did enjoy getting to be in the woods of Piston Peak. It was a drastic change from the open, rolling hills of Propwash. They had wooded areas further out around them, but they weren't quite as grand as the national park's. It was a welcome change of scenery for him.
It wasn't but fifteen minutes in the water before Dusty noticed the bobber beginning to jerk and duck under the surface.
"Wait," Blade said, before Dusty could start reeling it in. "It might be brim. The hook might not be set yet."
The younger male waited a moment, watching the bobber go down, and then float up as though it was untouched, until another, faster jerk dragged it under completely, and kept pulling.
"There!" Dusty said, grabbing the pole.
After fighting with both the fish and the reel, the former crop-duster finally managed to reel in the catch - a small but lively little green and yellow sunfish.
"Not bad, but there's bigger fish here." Blade commented.
"The hook isn't all that big either." Dusty said. The poles that they did have were just ones that they'd found while cleaning out an overstuffed closet in one of the hangars, so they didn't care too much for what they had on them. So long as it worked and caught fish, they figured they could be happy with that.
The sunfish wriggled and popped off the hook it was magneted to, falling back into the water with a splash and disappearing back into the depths of the water.
"Standing 1 and 0 so far, I hope you can keep up." Dusty teased. But then the other lure starting moving too, and he took his words back.
A couple of hours later, the rotorcraft won with 2 to 4, and they had to pack up and head out to check in with Maru. It was nothing major, but he had expressed concerns around the heat index and the lack of humidity in the late afternoon making for a possible spring up of fires. Their break was short, but well-earned and well spent in their opinion.
"Any good ones?" Maru asked curiously.
"Just panfish, but I managed to get a smallmouth Bass out of it." Blade said.
"I didn't know we had those.." Maru said. "But it has been a long time."
The rest of their afternoon was just as quiet, though hotter and more noticeably so at the base where the tarmac was uncovered by trees. Blade had hung back to let Dusty try spotfire searching on his own for once - he needed the practice as the current second-in-command back home. He had let him a couple of times before, so it was nothing too new to the young firefighter, but it was still an important task that needed doing.
He was rather surprised though when he had radioed back with a sighting. Patch caught it almost as soon as he did. It wasn't a very big one, but it's location was rather precarious. It was running up the side of one of the cliffs, close to the high rocks. If they did it right they could have it out quickly, but the risk of rockslides was definitely something to consider.
"Do you need the Smokejumpers out there?" Cabbie asked.
"Not yet. Get them back to the base though, just in case it changes." Blade said, already starting up his rotors. The red and white Agustawestland went off, leaving Cabbie and Maru at the base, and with Dipper close behind. Dusty was already there.
The young Air Tractor circled the fire at a close but safe distance, going through a thorough inspection of the flames as he'd been taught. By now it was almost second nature to him, and although he did still slip up now and again, he was definitely better now than he was last year.
"It's a shame I haven't got my pontoons back yet," Dusty radioed as Dipper and Blade showed up, "would've made things a lot easier."
"Just scout it out for now, I'll need an extra pair of eyes on it anyways. I don't like how far up the cliff it is." Blade said. He had a bad feeling in his gut about this one, even as minuscale of a fire as it was. Something just didn't sit right with this one.
As soon as Dipper had dropped a line against the lower side of the fire, the side farther up caused a spare tree grown into the rocks to crackle and split from the ground, pulling debris with it down the edge. Thankfully the SuperScooper wasn't in the way of it by the time it had fallen.
But the Air Tractor hadn't anticipated the chain-reaction.
Instinct kicked in even before Blade had warned him across the radio transmission when the larger rocks above them on the cliffside had begun to slip. But the way that the wall sides jutted out and curved off in front of him, Dusty could only try to knife-edge and floor it all the way past. He was successful and he wasn't; He made it out, but not before a few smaller but still decently-sized pebbles pelted his livery. His right tail-fin was bent slightly and his flank had a few new bruises and scrapes.
"Damn it!" He roared over the static, "I thought I had it."
"Better dented than dead." Blade replied.
"You okay Dustmuffin?" Dipper asked worriedly.
"Yeah, fine." He huffed, "Just a scratch."
"I'd head off back to base in case it isn't." Blade stated, "I can finish this side out myself."
"Roger that.." Dusty said, almost bitterly as he went off back towards the hangars, scolding himself for not having been quicker or out of the way before they fell.
"Can't have war-paint without a few scars, eh?" Maru commented, overlooking the damage done to the younger aircraft's side. "Ah but all's well that ends well. Just a bent fin is all." he concluded. Dusty sighed in relief.
From the garage he could make out the sounds of two engines headed closer, one being the chopper's recognizable thundering of his rotors. He and Dipper had made it back without further hassles, fire out completely. But he did have the Smokejumpers sent out to ensure the debris from the rockslide wasn't blocking off any of the paths nearby.
"Well at least he's not fatally wounded this time." Maru said. "Been getting tired of bad accidents around here. A guy can only take so many boneheads and hotshots in one base!"
"You say that like there's a lot of us." Dusty said. Maru gave him that look like 'weell, yeah there are, actually.'
"At least it's agreed you're the worst of the bunch." Blade said.
"Oh, I disagree." Maru butted in, "Blade, you would've given him a run for his money back in the day!"
The helicopter's cheeks started to burn, "I wasn't that bad!"
"No, you're right...you were worse. You had yourself screwed over the first day here!"
"Oh I have to hear this." Dusty said, grinning evilly. Dipper nodded in agreement.
Blade looked about ready to murder the tug then and there. Maru just smiled fiendishly back at him, as though he didn't know why he was so annoyed in the first place.
"Well go on, tell them! Don't let me do it for you, you know I'm merciless." He said. The older aircraft furrowed his brow, looking anywhere but at him.
The tug continued, "or I could just radio Paul and he'll tell 'em how you ended up incapacitated for damn near a month."
His hinting at the story was piquing the two younger plane's interest, and they looked like they were dying to know more. But they could also tell by the increasing discomfort on Blade's face that it wasn't going to be an easy story to get out of him.
"...another time." He finally said, "too tired to be tellin' stories. They aren't nice ones either." This was an obvious bargain to try and get the three of them to drop the subject, but they all took the bait and left him be...for now.
"It's not like everyone else's stories from here aren't a little gritty." Dipper added, as the fire chief left.
It wasn't for a couple of days that the young SEAT thought about the conversation again, and went looking for the air boss for answers finally. Maru had seemingly forgotten the topic, and Blade sure as heck wasn't bringing it up. He wondered if the older aircraft might be more willing to tell him if there were less eyes watching him. Maybe if he could get him alone again…
The opportunity presented itself perfectly when they had another near-perfect day. Dusty managed to coax Blade into a rematch at the pond, and so during the outing he found his moment to strike.
"So how did you end up at Piston Peak anyways?" He asked him, indirectly of course. But Blade had already been two steps ahead of him.
"The same as you did. Got trained and certified and then just climbed the ladder over time." He said plainly. Dusty would have to try harder than that.
"Was it hard for you in the beginning?"
"At first. It got easier over time. You, of all planes, should know that." Blade said, looking over at him. Dusty but his lip, thinking about how else to approach it. He finally just gave up trying to dance around the question and decided to ask him outright.
"So what happened on the first day here?"
"Hell." He answered, "absolute hell."
"What did you do?" the younger plane pressed.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about so drop it." Blade replied quickly. He glanced over to find Dusty tucking his landing gear under him to lay in the grass.
"Care to tell me the details?" He asked, "preferably from start to finish?"
"You make for an awful interrogator." Blade told him. "But...I guess I owe you."
"For what?" Dusty asked innocently.
"For saving my life."
"Technically I also caused the risk of your life." Dusty said.
"Do you want to hear the story then or not?" Blade snapped impatiently.
"Okay!" He answered.
The Agustawestland set his pole down in between the rocks and sat back in the grassy bank of the pond. The skies overhead were clear and as blue as the eyes of the plane beside him, though he tried not to pay attention to such a detail.
"I came here in late June, 1985. I'd already been working at a smaller city station south of here for a couple years. I met Mayday then. He wasn't the chief, but he was a lieutenant. A damn good one at that. But I had more problems with the city; didn't get much work, and the noises weren't helping my...recovery."
"Recovery? From what?" Dusty asked him.
"...I was dealing with a lot of personal problems back then. Things I'd rather not have to dig up from the past." He said.
"Oh…" the red and white plane said. He didn't know if Blade was aware that he knew, but he had already guessed why the helicopter was going through things then. It wasn't that long after Nick had passed. They must have been closer than he thought.
"But anyways," Blade said, getting back on track, "Mayday was the one who suggested I be relocated further north to the national parks. Said they always needed extra help in the hotter months of the year. I ended up taking his advice. Said goodbye to the folks I'd met and who'd been there for me for the last couple of years, and left."
The sun was just barely beginning to peek over the mountainside as the young Agustawestland flew, eyes fixed on a set of buildings on the horizon. The forest was silent but for the chirps of songbirds in the evergreen trees, praising the sunrise. Even from the damp air the smell of pine wood was evident.
The lone white and blue helicopter made his way across the national park swiftly, surveying the landscape he'd inevitably be all over soon. The base was just a little further, behind an outreaching cliffside that kept it well hidden from the main tourist place of the park.
He spoke over the radio to the tower ahead, alerting his approach and access to land. The voice on the other end was cool and casual with a slight southern edge to it. She seemed to know what she was doing well enough to be comfortable about it.
The helicopter landed over the helipad they had off to the side of the base, in front of a couple hangars which were clearly there to be for other rotorcraft. His first impressions of the base were tidy enough but clearly aged, and with a lot of repurposed things. Most of the hangar walls were not the same color metal on each side, and a few had leftover hail damage.
The place was quietly busy - if the two words could be put together. He immediately spotted a few different aircraft around, all sporting firefighting liveries with reds, yellows and whites, all apparently focused on their own tasks. One of them, however, a young female Grumman HU-16 Albatross seaplane, noticed the hesitant newcomer.
"Are you the re-lo?" She asked him.
He nodded, "Yeah, from the station out in Fowler. South of Fresno."
"Thinking of trying out with the big leagues eh?" She asked. She had a bright, vibrant tone, almost as bright as her canary yellow livery.
"I guess so." The Agustawestland replied, a little unsure of himself.
The seaplane - whom he learned was named Stella - showed him around and gave him a quick tour of the facility, the final stop being at the main garage.
"Granted he isn't busy, I'd love to introduce you to our main mechanic. He's pretty awesome - well so long as you catch him on his good side." She explained.
In the hangar were copious amounts of tools and gadgets, in a somewhat disorganised arrangement. Maybe it was orderly to someone.
"Quit standing in the doorway, geez!" Blade heard someone behind him say. He moved back to see a gray and blue tug-forklift half-breed, with another forklift of a lighter blue beside him. They both carried stacks of boxes.
"Maru! Paul! Sorry, here-" Stella said, moving back to let the two through. "Oh! The new guy's here, this is-"
"Blazin' Blade!" Maru finished for her, "I know, I saw him when he showed up. Nice to meet you in person, kid!"
Blade looked a bit dumbstruck. "I, h-how do you know my-"
"You're a TV star, anyone who watches television would know your face. Plus it'd be kinda hard to miss the paint job, even without decals." The older forklift concluded.
"Went over my head," Stella told them, "then again I don't get time to watch shows. I'll leave you to it then," she finished, turning to head off.
The blue and white helicopter was lost, mentally and physically. He had been trying to forget about his last career so much that it didn't even register in his head to hear it again. He didn't want to, even. Why couldn't anyone just call him by his legal name anymore? Or would he never be able to forget the past?
The Agustawestland didn't even notice when the tug started waving a fork in his face.
"Yoo-hoo, earth to copter! Do you read?" He said. Blade suddenly snapped out of it.
"Huh?"
"Your crap." He said, pointing to the set of boxes by the wall. "It got here the same time you did."
"Oh, uh thanks."
"No need. You can take the hangar by the helipad for now, it's empty, so convenient for you, right?"
"I guess." He answered.
"..Hm. Bit less chatty than I figured." Maru said, mumbling as he turned to work on something lying on the floor of the garage.
"Yeah.." Blade half answered and half thought as he went to move the boxes - they had them put on one of those roller board things no one actually knew the name of.
"Oh here, for the tape." the smaller pittie added, placing a boxcutter on the top of the stack.
He carted the load back to the hangar and pushed open the doors with a loud creak - it was obvious the thing was old and unused.
The inside of the hangar was basic, if not almost unfinished-looking. The walls were made of the same log as the outside, sturdy but unfortunately leaving the room a little stuffy inside - or maybe that was just from sitting unused for so long. You could still smell the cut of the Pine.
There were two arching windows on either side of the room - one over the entrance and one against the roof of the back wall. They both let in a fair amount of sunlight. As did the other, smaller square windows cut into the sides, two on each side of the curve of the hangar.
Blade left the unopened boxes in the corner for now - he could deal with unpacking later. He no longer felt in the mood to be positive about coming here.
The only reason he'd come was to get away from it all. To forget the past and try to move on. Sure seemed like a damn good way to start, being reminded of who he was then on the first day out here. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. Maybe this wasn't meant to be.
His thoughts, however, were obstructed by the sounds of sirens going off in every direction.