Author's Note: This prompt was suggested by Ripslingerisatsundere!


B is for Bad Luck


Cabbie would never dare mention it, but his haul always ached on rainy mornings like this. The chill, moist air combined with the rapid changes in barometric pressure always seemed to make every weld and seam in his body press against each other in uncomfortable ways. And being a warplane he had a whole lot more of those welding points than most.

When he had first gone to war, Cabbie had thought himself to be invincible. Oh, how quickly that had changed death had started and bullets had started to pockmark his belly. Still, overall, Cabbie had been lucky…but even the best luck eventually runs out…

As the rain pounded on his hanger roof he stifled a groan. While Cabbie had many wounds from the Korean War, it was the seam across his back from when he had gone down his second and final time that was currently taking most of his attention. Out of all of his war wounds, this one had been the most life-changing, but it was the one that put him on course for joining the Piston Peak Air Attack team so perhaps it had all been worth it.

He breathed and tried to just focus on being present. While the patter of water against metal and the smell of ozone mixed with wet pine consumed most of his senses, he could also feel the thrum of life across the base as well. There was the faint rumble of pumps, the hum of electricity, and just on the edge of his perception Cabbie could sense his team…his smokejumpers, enjoying the opportunity to play in the mud for a while.

The comfort of knowing that he was exactly where he was supposed to be was enough to help him accept any ache that his weather handed him. But as Cabbie slipped closer to a doze, Patch's voice crackled over his radio.

"A landslide has blocked the train tracks near the lodge. The Superintendent has requested the smokejumpers ASAP."

"Rodger, the smokejumpers are gearing up now." Dynamite said over the radio, before switching to her outside voice and hollering at her team loud enough that her voice echoed off the base's buildings. "YOU HEAR THAT BOYS, WE ARE HEADED OUT!"

"Warming up my engines now." Cabbie added his two cents to the conversation. "I should be able to fly in 5." The old plane took a long yawn, and then gave his propellers a good spin as he prepared to take on the day.

If it was karma that Cabbie hurt every time it rained, he was willing to accept that piece of cosmic punishment for being the bringer of bad luck on the heads on so many other vehicles…after all, the only way to combat bad luck was to find a way to still live life to the fullest.