HI!

I kinda feel like this is fail but Meh. I tried and if later on I get thrown into jail for it I'll go back and change it.

So Mary C, you said sweet and I gave you Sad. (Facepalm) I fail at life in general. It can Kind of be perceived as sweet though? At least I didn't go with my first idea witch involved lots of guns and a whole lotta blood.

His lips twitched further into a frown as the sobbing continued to echo around the small plane. He sank further back into the seat and hit his pencil against the side of his clip-board, now biting his bottom lip as he looked blankly at the door just ahead of him. Sunlight was pouring in from the windows, the small aircraft lit up like a stage, But the Muffled howls let him know it was obviously a tragic performance.

He looked back down at the scrawled letters and numbers, but his conflicting emotions sent the information scattering dizzily around his head. Sighing in resentment he tilted the clip-board to the side and started to write, jagged script spilling over the blank segments of paper.

I know I should care, but I don't. Not in the way Rico and Skipper do. I mean I do care but-

He growled and slashed the black ink through his writing and lent forward, head hitting the paper and eyes closing in pain. His head was still throbbing and the blood was starting to dry to his shirt, sticking it uncomfortably to his skin.

"I didn't know you were Car-sick Cyborg?"

Kowalski looked, up one eye-brow raised, but Rico was already off topic again.

"Or is it Plane sick? Flight sick?" He offered, on hand flopping back and forth, mouth turned into a quizzical pout.

"I believe the correct terminology is Motion-sickness, as it refers to all modes of transportation." The strategist said as his friend strolled over and threw himself into the seat beside him, snatching up the clip-board and looking at it through narrowed eyes.

Kowalski didn't even bother complaining. As Impulsive, annoying and frustrating the other male was, he had saved his life, and he was his best friend.

"Ah." He mused. "You've made a mistake." He noted.

"What?" Kowalski shouted, grabbing the clip-board back, tugging on his hair as he scanned the equations.

Rico laughed, mouth wide and eye's devilish. "You're too easy Cyborg. Even Year 7 science is beyond me. For me to have even the faintest shit about what that was it would have to be dumbed down about…" He paused, before laughing again. "Nah. Hell will freeze over before I ever understand something that smart."

Kowalski pointed his pen in his face. "Don't do that again. Ever." He warned.

The weapons expert bit down on the biro and jerked it out of The scientists grasp to spit it at the other side of the room. "What? Worried about making a syntax error? Ew. Where the hell have you been keeping that pen?" He grimaced, rubbing his lower lip with the back of his hand.

Kowalski smirked and pulled a crayon from his pocket, scribbling on the page of equations. "It was 'no bite nail varnish' and apparently you don't like the taste. Interesting."

Rico laughed. "You Sly Bitch! Well you win this round, that stuff is foul."

"Finally! My pens are safe!" He rejoiced.

There was a moment of silence.

"How's the kid." He asked finally, voice dropping as he shot another look towards the door.

Rico frowned and lent back, running his hands thorugh his hair and exhaling deeply. "Not good Walski. His Family have all been shot dead, on the way to church no less, and now he has now where to go? How would you react."

Kowalski growled and looked away. "You know how. I would laugh as they bled out and go tap-dance on their graves."

Rico didn't comment on the look of absolute conviction and instead lay a hand on his shoulder. "Okay… How would you react if Skipper or I was shot and killed on this mission?"

The scientist was ready to shoot a bitter remark, but stopped himself. This wasn't about him. He looked away and thought it over before saying. "I probably would have gone and shot as many people as I could." He hesitated. "And that is a lot of people."

"I know."

Rico's voice was soft as he turned to look out the windows, arms folded across his chest and gaze searching the clouds endlessly, like the answers to life's problems were spelled out in the textured water vapour.

"You know more about me than any other person. You know that." He eventually stated. "I never told Skipper or Johnson anything. They never needed to know."

Kowalski nodded slightly. "You care about the kid don't you."

Rico held up his fingers, about an inch apart. "He was this close to being shot Walski, and I saved him." He turned away. "Why couldn't I save her?"

Kowalski didn't respond as Skipper came through the door, arm over the shoulder of the still red-eyed boy. He wasn't screaming or howling now, but the pain was still evident on his face. The Dark curls were springing up around his face, the scattering of freckles and earnest and shattered dark blue eyes holding the same mournful attitude. Skipper gently guided him towards the other side of the room and sat him down on the bench.

"There ya go soldier. You feeling alright-" He stopped himself, eyes flashing for a moment before changing tact. "I want you to meet some of the best people you will meet from here on out." He murmured, gesturing towards the pair on the other side of the small aircraft. "Kowalski and Rico."

Rico smiled weakly, the usual bright spark missing. "Or Cyborg and Maniac. Whichever names you wanna use I guess." He nodded at skipper. "That's Paranoid. And we had a good friend who went by 'Badass.'" He chuckled.

Skipper glared. "My Paranoia is keeping me alive soldier."

That was the wrong choice of words apparently as the boy whimpered and buried his head in his hands again, body shaking and trembling. Skipper took a half-step back and covered his mouth with his hands.

"I can't do this." Rico Growled, Getting up and stalking towards the front of the plane, hands clenched into balls at his side.

"Whats up with-"

Kowalski cut him off. "He'll tell you when he's ready Skipper." And with that stood and walked over to the smaller boy.

Rico had been right on it with what he'd said. He may not have cared for his flesh and blood family, but he cared for the one he had now. And if the thought of losing them was only a scratch on what this kid was going through the agony would be enough to rip him open from the inside out. And surprisingly, he cared. He really did care.

"Now." He said, reaching out and taking hold of the blood stained hands in his own, pulling them down away from his face. Kneeling down he held onto the trembling grip and looked the boy in the eyes. "I'm not going to tell you are going to get over this." He murmured. "Because you are not going to. Every day you are going to wake up and realize that the ones you love aren't here anymore, and it is going to hurt like you lost them again. This pain will eat you alive day after day and you won't be able to stop it. But you know what?"

"What?" He asked, voice raspy and strangled, tear stained face dark with vivid anguish.

He smiled, a faint bitter smile to hide the gaping rift that was being torn open inside him again. "One day you're going to get to a point when you realize that it doesn't hurt so much anymore. It will never be the same, and you'll never forget the pain, but it will be better than it was before, and that's all you're ever going to get." He paused. "I lost someone very dear to me recently. She saved my life in more way than one and I couldn't save her. But it's ok. Because I know nothing could have changed the way things happened, and by always remembering her I'm doing all I can to keep her alive." He was only now aware he was crying, limbs shaking desperately. "You and I are going through the same thing. You, Me, Rico, Skipper. Were all one big messed up family of people hurting inside."

He looked up from where he had been staring at his trembling fingers, and through blurry eyes saw a look of loss and defeat in the boys eyes. "We're the fighters kid. And nothing is going to stop us from pulling through on the other side."

It was then he felt the strong grip on his shoulders, turning him around to face the owner. Both Skipper and Rico had tears in their eyes as they sat crouched at arm's length.

"You're crying?" Rico asked, eyes filling further.

Kowalski nodded. "It's called Grieving." He bit his lip and forced back the sob. "I never did get the chance to do it."

Skipper nodded. "Good. Johnson's a person worth grieving." He turned to address the sobbing boy, arms wide. "What about you private? You want to come Grieve with a group of crazies?"

Surprisingly the teen slipped from his seat and fell into the leaders outstretched arms. Kowalski blinked as Rico grabbed his arm and pulled him forcefully into what was turning into a group hug.

And that was how they remained for the rest of the flight, curled up together; together mourning the separate people they had all lost. Weather years ago or on that exact day the person had passed they let the tears fall and let themselves grieve.

Part of missing someone, is half of what makes them a great memory.

And joke time.

Why did the kid fall off his bike?
Because his mother threw a fridge at him. XD

Ok. After this they landed, Private was sent to live with his uncle Nigel, but he never forgot the strange people he met that day, the penguins never forgot him ra ra ra… one year later on the way to get milk for the hotel fridge on his and his uncles trip to New York He interrupts a violent fight. Who better than Skipper, Kowalski and Rico to be right in there. They have the whole OMG ITZ YEEEW moment and Private joins them.

(Just realized this stuffs up the timeline I usually work with when it comes to Manfredi and Johnson. If Johnsons dead, Rico's voice should be stuffed. Meh, whatever.)

:) Kay. I'm done!

Up next is CIPPEEEEEEER. And then something else I can't be bothered looking into right now. So Meh. I'm tired. Deal with it.