Chapter 16 probably took too long, didn't it? Also, please leave reviews! They help a lot and make me really happy! I love you all!


For an afternoon in late March, it was surprisingly warm. Perhaps around 14 degrees celsius outside, it was a comfortable 20 within the cosy confines of Jason's flat. Not too hot, else it would get humid and sweaty, and it wasn't cold either. It did help with the extra body in the small room anyway, it was also unlikely for that extra body to leave any time soon.

Jason and Darjeeling were sitting on the recently changed sheets of the bed, with Darjeeling sitting on her legs and Jason laying his head on her lap. His eyes were closed, but his eyes were moving underneath reddened lids. A soft, pale hand stroked the fire-coloured locks of the Scotsman, a gentle, rhythmic stroking that sent him into a calm sleep. The record player that Jason had bought a couple of months ago was playing some quietened British swing, barely tickling the couples' eardrums at the current volume it was set to.

Just earlier, maybe half an hour ago, Jason had another breakdown. His mental state was deteriorating and the only solace he found was either with Darjeeling or the cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey. Of course, he hid the second choice as much as he could from his girlfriend; but eventually, she'd find out or he'd tell her. It wouldn't be a pretty conversation, and resorting to something like smoking and drinking isn't something he's ever done before. This came as a surprise to even himself, when trying to deal with the past events, that he went to the bottle rather than taking legitimate means in helping himself.

At the moment, the puffiness of his eyes was finally going down and his breathing had slowed. He was calm. Being in the arms of his angel made him feel like he could do anything, like he was invincible, nothing could hurt him if he had the support of Darjeeling.

Somethings could hurt him indefinitely when she isn't there, such as the reminiscing of the murder of his friend.

Charles never deserved such a fate. Instead, he deserved to live a long and fruitful life that allowed him to flourish; but it would never happen because he had been denied of any access to a life he deserved. Instead, he received pain and suffering.

No one deserved such fate, yet that is what happens in life.

[You will live]

[You will die]

Inevitability is inescapable, and you cannot change confirmed inevitability such as life and death. It'll happen whether you like it or not.

Is it fate or destiny?

This is something Jason came to accept. However, he expanded on it. He added to it. With the life you are given from birth, do what you will with it but you should at least make the most of the things you are given. No matter what hardships, positive reinforcement of any kind can aid oneself in achievement.

Death is near impossible to overcome unless an individual is desensitised to it. Then it becomes common, or natural.

When Jason was in the army he encountered death on many occasion, however, it didn't let it shape who he was. He was afraid of death, yes, but he never reacted to it in a way that he stopped trying to push towards his goals.

Jason knew that when he died, he could reunite with his mother. He didn't want to rush to death, embrace it with open arms so he could see his mother again. He wanted to live his life to the fullest before becoming old and being gently guided away from the land of the living.

This way of thinking was imprinted into his mind, and it would never he scribbled out or overwritten.

It was after he encountered Erik, and his crew, that he feared death. If he had died, how many would be affected? The scope of his death would be massive, just as it had been with every other person that has died. No one knows for sure how massive the impact of death is on every person, but the effect is incomprehensible.

If Jason had died, it would create a ripple effect on not only his loved ones but also the wider community.

Charles' death, along with the Russians and the Americans, was held a deep-set secret within the Sensha-do Federation and the families involved. It was understood that it was infighting between the boys that caused their deaths, and nobody really understood why because the survivors wouldn't explain. Their refusal to explain or their vague comments were soon going to be taken for granted and the case would go cold.

Rumours spread that live ammunition was used in the tanks for them to be killed, another rumour stated that they used the coaxials and the hull machineguns to kill each other when they were out of the tanks (in some ways that rumour wasn't false).

The survivors were excused from classes for two weeks but were expected to be revising for the end of year exams nonetheless.

Jason wasn't one for academia, but he tried his best. The classes he had been attending were surprisingly helpful and he was even referred to supplementary classes, this was mainly because his brain couldn't get wrapped around it all and he was a lot more focussed on the tanks rather than lessons.

Well... since he was sat next to Darjeeling, he was more focused on her rather than what the teacher was saying.

Jason neither looked forward to or dreaded results day, but there was a voice in the back of his head saying that he should be worried. Something like that comes naturally, but Jason was sceptical. He was thinking about what Rudy had said, and that this was technically his great-grandson's body. It didn't make much sense to him, but what other explanation could be found when the 'real' him died in 1982?

The warm, soft sensation of Darjeeling's lap calmed Jason's hectic mind, and it worked wonders, somehow. When at school their romantic interactions were quite reserved, neither of them wanted to boast about it or show it off, especially Darjeeling. Jason hardly talked to the other boys about his time with Darjeeling because he felt no need to, he felt like he would only tell them if they asked (and they rarely asked, bar Charles' incessant, unavoidable, inappropriate questions about their relationship).

"Sigh..." Jason turned onto his back and opened his eyes, looking up at the blonde girl. Realising he was awake, she gave him a quick smile.

"How are you feeling?" Keeping her hand on the back of his head, she continued to lightly massage him.

"Better, thanks to you..."

"My pleasure, it would be wrong if I didn't at least try and help you."

"It's always appreciated, darlin'."

"Darling?" Darjeeling covered her mouth with her free hand, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Hm? Ah, sorry... it just came out," embarrassed and trying not to ruin the moment, Jason tried to backtrack.

"No no, it's quite alright. You've just never said it before so it surprised me," Darjeeling smiled, and let down her hand from her mouth.

"I see, so you don't mind if I use 'terms of endearment' with you?"

"Of course not, I'm sure I'd find some to thrown into the mix too."

"I like the sound of that," Jason closed his eyes and smirked. Darjeeling brushed a few strands of orange locks away from his face and watched his face. He wore a calm expression upon himself, that of a person who had no worries. Jason had worries, both of them knew that, but at this moment, all of them washed away.

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"Adam? What happened to you?" Kay approached the boy cautiously, her worried eyes glancing over him. No reply came from the brown-haired boy, just a sleepless stare. Unblinking and devoid of life, his once blue eyes seemed grey, as if he himself was devoid of life. Kay didn't fully understand why he was being like this, but seeing him curled into the foetal position next to the hull of the M24 made her feel remorseful.

"Adam..?" She crouched down beside him and shakily placed a hand on his right shoulder, receiving no response. Adam was hugging his knees, his clothes were dirtied and covered in blood. Whether it was his or someone else's she couldn't tell, but they were dry stains. She looked over his face, it was tired and the dark circles under his eyes could hardly be seen by the layer of mud and blood.

His eyes, staring a thousand yards away. Kay wanted desperately to help him, but she couldn't find anything. Her words of reassurance were usually to people who couldn't find a boyfriend or their tank got knocked out during a match, never to someone who witnessed four of their friends die in front of them; Kay didn't know that.

"They're gone, Kay. They're gone." Adam's weak, croaky voice finally escaped his cracked lips. His voice didn't sound sad, and his eyes were completely dry. There were no signs of tear stains on his cheeks. Adam couldn't cry. He didn't even find the lump in his throat after replaying the images in his mind. Adam felt complete sadness, but he couldn't show it. It's not that he didn't want to, but he physically couldn't.

"I know..." Kay's voice was lower and calmer as she sat down next to him. She curled her hand around one of his and stroked it with her thumb. Kay knew of the boys' deaths, but she didn't know why, what, or how.

"My crew, they're gone... and all I can do is sit here. I can't even cry. I can't mourn their deaths," Adam swallowed, and his right eyebrow twitched, "I can only sit here. I can only sit here."

"It's not your fault, Adam."

"I ran away, I could have died with them. I could have done something."

"No, you're wrong. You made the rational choice of saving yourself. I understand that you were all close, I understand, but one life saved is better than all of them being lost. I can't fully understand how you're feeling right now, but let me tell you this: I'm glad you ran away. I'm glad you're alive, Adam. Everyone in Saunders is glad to see you're still alive. Your family back home will be, too, I'm sure of it." Kay wrapped her arms around Adam, her warm bomber jacket blanketing him.

"Yeah... my family..."

"Will you... will you be going back home soon?"

"Yeah."

"I see. Thank you for everything you've done, Adam..."

"Yeah."

"I'll miss you..."

"..." Adam closed his eyes for the first time, took a moment and then looked at Kay. His pale blue eyes were wet now, threatening to spill.

"Hey, hey... it's alright... it's ok..." Kay gently whispered, gingerly pulling his head to her right shoulder and stroking the back of his head. Adam weakly wrapped his arms around her torso, returning the affectionate embrace she was giving him. He recognised the lump in his throat and the pressure under his eyes as he was about to cry, but nothing dropped. He couldn't cry.

"I'll..." Adam croaked, the hoarseness in his voice was clear, "I'll miss you too... Kay..."

"We'll stay in touch, I promise. Not a day will go by where I won't think of you, got that?" Kay soothingly curled her fingers and straightened them at the back of his head. Adam could feel himself falling into the throes of a deep sleep, something he couldn't achieve in recent nights. Every night since the match, he had been wide awake. The images still vivid in his mind, still reliving the cursed memories that have affected him so harshly. However, in the tender arms of this girl, he could feel his body getting weaker and heavier.

Adam's arms remained wrapped around Kay as he eventually invited sleep, and with open arms, it gladly accepted. That night, he had his first dream in over five months. Some of the night still felt cold and the dream sometimes became weak or hazy, but that compassionate warmth always returned to him.

Kay, after realising he fell asleep on her, struggled to move him to a comfier place than the cold metal floor of the hangar. In her opinion, the most difficult part wasn't carrying him or explaining to a teacher why she was carrying him but actually keeping him asleep. She was scared to disturb him, but he was in a seriously deep sleep. One thought crossed her mind and that he entered some sort of coma, but she quickly flushed that down the drain when he started whispering under his breath.

Laying him down on her bed, Kay adjusted his posture to make it slightly more comfortable. Not necessarily knowing what to do next, she sat slumped on the edge of her bed watching him sleep. His previously tortured face was now relaxed and innocent-looking, and Kay couldn't help but look at him. It was rare to see him sleeping so soundly, he used to toss and turn whenever she found him on the sofa in the common room or in the seat of some form of transport. Adam could easily fall asleep, but sleeping wasn't easy.

Adam laid on his back relatively still, his eyes moving under his eyelids. He was dreaming. What of, Kay didn't know. What she did know was that she needed to find somewhere else to sleep because slipping in under the covers with him was a bad idea for multiple reasons: he's still wearing his dirty clothes (she's glad the next day is when they change their sheets), Alisa likes to barge into her room in the mornings, and it would embarrass the fuck out of her if she got into the same bed as Adam.

Kay decided to bunk with Naomi, who was probably still awake and doing something on her computer. Before taking her sleepwear out, she tiptoed over to the sleeping boy in her bed and lightly brushed some hair out of his face. Without a second thought, Kay leaned down and briskly kissed his forehead. In a few seconds, she took her stuff and silently ran out of the room.

The room went silent after the floorboards stopped creaking. It wasn't a clean room, nor was it overly messy either, but there were quite a few things strewn about; loose schoolwork, dirty and clean clothes, some mail that sat spread out on top of her drawers.

After Kay left the room, a weak smile grew on Adam's lips. He had been awake since Kay put him in her bed, and he tried desperately not to 'wake up' whilst she was there. Adam opened his eyes and sat up in the bed. The sheets were an olive drab green, along with the pillow covers. They gave an impression of the military, but they were warm and soft so that impression quickly washed away.

To Adam's surprise, the room wasn't as 'girly' as he thought it would have been. Instead, it reminded him of his Field Marshall's office. There was a certain balance of proper and improper to her room, a strange balance of order and disorder. It was definitely Kay's room, that's for sure. In the darkness, he couldn't make out much in the room other than silhouettes and blacked-out shapes of all sizes. One thing he could easily make out was her bomber jacket hanging up beside the door, and two pairs of mud-covered boots underneath it. Kay's and a much larger sized pair. They must have been his own because he couldn't feel the boots on his feet.

Only just realising he was still in his tank uniform, and that it was covered in dirt, he started unbuttoning the items of clothing. Adam didn't consider the consequences of stripping down, all he cared about was not getting Kay's bed too dirty and his own comfort.

Whilst he started taking off his trousers, he suddenly felt an aching pain in his shin. He quickly slipped off the dirt-sodden clothing and closely inspected his lower leg, brushing fingertips over where it hurt. Swiping over the area of incident, he felt his fingers get warmer with a slick layer of a liquid.

"Huh?" Adam silently voiced, wiping away the blood with his thumb. There was only a dull pain, but that might have been because he was so tired. Taking off his thick black socks, he wrapped and tied them around his shin and decided to leave the wound for the morning, sleep called and he wasn't about to decline it.

Laying back down in just his off-white vest and black boxers, he tucked himself in. There was nary an embarrassing thought of the fact that Kay had slept in this bed before him, but when he turned over and his nose hit the pillow he was immediately punched in the face with the smell of her hair.

Instantly conked out, Adam slept with a small smile on his face.