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Chapter 1

When the snow falls

London, Great Britain (UTC+0)

24th of December 2014, 2307 hrs

A single snowflake fell on his nose. The man shook his head, pulling the winter hat down to hide from the not so pleasant weather.

"So you're having a shift on Christmas Eve, huh?" Noah smiled, lighting up a cigarette. The fire from the man's lighter gently illuminated his chocolate brown eyes. Tar colored hair combed back, waved on the wind, as snow was falling on them.

"Yeah, it seems like this. Best time in the year to sign up for a twelve-hour long shift, isn't it?" The Brit chuckled, leaning against the wall. The facade of the hospital was drowning in the dark, but the silence of the night made the place feel so peaceful. And for sure it was a surprisingly peaceful evening. Roads were completely empty, as most of the people were spending the day sitting at the table with their families, celebrating Christmas Eve.

"Well, it always can get better. You could have been assigned to the shift during New Year's Eve. How many ripped off fingers have you collected last year?" the surgeon smirked, seeing his boyfriend's expression change.

"Too many. Kids and fireworks are a terrible combo." A shiver went down Del's body. "Let's hope that today we won't get calls like this. Fingers crossed for this to be a nice night shift. No ripped off fingers, no stabbings, no jerks."

"It better be, cause I'll have to deal with all those jerks you bring to the ER." the man laughed. "About that… I'll have a break around 1 a.m. Coffee?"

"Coffee. If none of the jerks will call for help."

"Great. You can also bring your dad. I'm sure he also could use some good, black coffee." clapping his hands together, Noah smiled. Lawson awkwardly scratched the back of his head, looking at the ground.

"Yeah, about that…"

"Oh, c'mon dude. We have been dating for almost six months. You still didn't come out to him? I'm sure that if he still doesn't know, he at least suspects something, so why are you keeping it a secret? He ain't homophobic."

"He's scottish. You never know shit with Scotts."

"Whatever. Del, you're 21 years old. You can't hide it from him for eternity, he'll find out eventually. What can he do anyways? You're an adult."

"Theoretically you're right…" sighing, he rubbed his nose. "Maybe I'll try and talk to-.." a creak of the radio stopped him half way through the sentence. "Damn. Gotta go." he pulled Noah for a hug.
"Alright. Good luck and see ya later." the man smiled, leaning forward to give the Brit a kiss, but instead he got pushed away.
"You know I hate the smell of cigarettes." Del gave the surgeon a nose snap. "Kiss me whenever you'll stop smoking." he chuckled, walking away.

"I'll stop smoking when you come out to your dad, you dumbass!" Noah called out to him also snickering.

The door to the ambulance closed with the slam. The Brit pulled his seatbelt, turning the engine. His sight met with doctor Harry's eyes.

"Took you long enough, kid." the older man shook his head.

"Sorry, dad. What's the address?"

"There." handing him a tablet with the information about the patient, he sighed heavily. Del frowned, glancing at the screen.

"Oh, for the love of God, headache? People are getting really bored during Christmas Eve," he pushed the gas pedal.

"Don't complain. It's our job and we have to check it out, no matter how stupid the call is."

The Brit sighed, trying to make himself comfortable in the driver's seat.

"Well, it's now or never, as they say." he thought.

"Uh, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's a weird moment for that, but I want to tell you something." Del bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the road. The black concrete was a better option to focus on, and it just made it easier to say the thing. He wouldn't see his dad's disappointed look if he wasn't looking at him, right?

"Go on then."

"I'm dating somebody. It's a person from work…"

"Yeah, Doctor Marley, I know."

"Yes, Doctor Mar-..." the light switched to red, causing the Brit slam on the brakes. "Hold the fuck up, how do you know I'm dating Noah?!"

Harry grabbed the handle, as they both were yanked forward.

"Del, air sgàth fuck, you're driving the ambulance which is probably older than me, be careful with it." he shook his head, giving the younger man an annoyed glance.

"How did you know I was dating a guy?"

"Oh c'mon kid, look at you. You literally scream "Look I'm not straight". And you know, it's just dad's intuition." the man rolled his eyes, letting out a silent titter. "I saw you two talking a few times. And obviously the first time you have met, I knew that something was going on."

"Oh, so you're not mad?"

"Why would I… God." the doctor rubbed his face. "Del Andreas Lawson. I am your father. The only thing I want for you is to be happy. I don't care if you'll have a girlfriend, boyfriend, or insert any-other-gender-partner. As long as you're happy it's fine with me."

A long silence hovered in the air, as Del stared at the road. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. On the one hand he was glad that dad didn't react as he was assuming. Though, the guilt of even thinking that the older Lawson could abandon him started to kick in.

"Thanks, dad." he beamed gently.

"No problem. I love you, kid, although sometimes you're so incredibly stupid…"

"I know. I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. Just remember you can talk to me about anything."

"I wish that mom would be as open as you."

"You know that she has a lot of work with the whole book printing stuff and promotion. You should be happy that her stories are actual bestsellers."

"It's always her and her books, isn't it?" Del muttered, stopping the vehicle. "We're here."

The paramedics were standing in front of the small, quite old detached house. Doctor Harry pressed the doorbell again, knocking on the door with his fist.

"LAS! Please open the door!" he called out, leaning on the doorframe.

"Obviously it was a prank call. Clann gòrach, chan eil dad nas fheàrr aca ri dhèanamh an-dràsta?" Del shook his head, getting the hand on the handle. He was pissed, as always whenever they were called somewhere for no reason.

He lost his balance, leaning forward and almost falling inside through the threshold. To their surprise the door opened without any resistance. The odor bubbling from inside of the house was terrible.

"Jesus Christ, it smells like somebody died in here, not just had a headache." Del coughed, taking a step back. His eyes were filled with hesitation as he looked at the older paramedic. Being a public trust employee they had a right to come into the building if somebody's life might have been put at risk.

But the thing that made him reluctant was the smell. The mix of sweat, rotting food and something else. Something he couldn't distinct. Definitely none of the windows had been opened since months.

"O, airson gràdh Dhè. Take the backpack, we're going in." Harry swore, going past his son. "Hello?! London Ambulance Service! Is anyone here?!"

A disgusted grimace didn't leave Del's face, as he stepped over the threshold. The inside of the flat was completely dark. Following the older man, they went through what was supposedly a kitchen and a dining room. From there they headed through the long corridor.

"I'll check the bathroom and you go to the right, it's probably the living room."

Lawson nodded, taking a turn. The clink of empty bottles under his feet made him flinch. Pointing his flashlight down, he made another step, more carefully this time.

The TV's white, blank screen illuminated a silhouette laying on the couch. The stink was even worse in this room. The man's shirt indicated that it had been a long time since it was washed, not to mention greasy hair, sticking together in strands and falling over his forehead.

"Found him!" he called out to his dad, kneeling in front of the middle aged guy. "Sir, can you hear me?"

"Mhhmm..." something like confirmation slipped out of his mouth. Del covered his nose, leaning backwards.

"Holy fuck…" he muttered.

"What?"

"Stinks with alcohol." The paramedic looked around, noticing even more bottles scattered around on the ground. It was a miracle that he didn't stumble on any of those.

"One peaceful Christmas, that's all I asked." Harry muttered under his breath. "You take his pulse, I check his breathing. I swear if he is just another drunk idiot...-"

Del tried to focus on finding the pulse oximeter in his medic's bag and not listening to father's complaints. Rising his sight, one thing drew his attention.

"For the love of God, they should make them pay fo-..."

"Dad. It's insulin." Del shook the medicine packaging. "He's diabetic."

"Shit." The doctor immediately took out a device and checked the guy's blood glucose level. "Hypoglycaemia. Great, we're taking him to the hospital. Go for a stretcher, kid. It's dark in here, I'll turn on the lights"

Del nodded his head, standing up and heading back to the ambulance. In the background he could hear his dad swearing because of struggling with finding a light switch, which made him chuckle. Although he got a little bit used to the smell, walking outside was almost like salvation. He took a few breaths, standing in front of the entrance door admiring the December's cold breeze.

He was somehow relieved that they didn't come here for nothing. The only thing that was left to do now was taking the guy to the hospital. It has been less than 20 minutes since they got the call so chances for the man to recover from the hypoglycemia were big.

Maybe he'll even have a chance to get out with Noah as soon as they arrive at the emergency room? A thought about the dark-haired man made him smile, as he moved to the vehicle. Dad reacted surprisingly well to the news, so now everything was on the right track. Obviously he still had to talk with mom about that, but it wasn't that important as…

A blast was unexpected and so powerful that it almost overturned the ambulance. A wave of fire filled the house as the explosion spreaded out.

A group of crows soared into the air startled by the sudden noise. As soon as the birds went away, the only sound that could be heard in the dark night was the burning fire, eating the ruins of the house.

London, Great Britain (UTC+0)

7th of March 2016, 2103 hrs

The rattle of the broken mug felt distant, although the pieces of glass fell on the floor between two men.

"I had enough of you! You're worse than a fucking child Del! I'm tired. I'm just tired. It has been over a year and you still mourn as if it happened yesterday."

Tears flowing down cheeks, trembling voice. Noah clenched his hands into fists, almost shaking from anger. Del remained silent, looking down at the broken pieces of the mug.

"You're not gonna say anything. huh? Obviously, as always, when there is a problem, big boy Del acts like it never existed. Always! Fucking always! The cat got your tongue or had the morphine eaten the rest of your brain?!"

"Shut up! You don't understand how I feel!"

"You don't understand how I feel, you don't understand how I feel." Noah mocked him, with a furious expression on his face. "But I do understand one thing- you're addicted. To this point that you are actually stealing the morphine from the hospital."

Del's pupils narrowed, as he stared at Marley blankly. He was completely lost. How the hell did he find out about that?

"I… I'm sorry." he mumbled.

"How the hell did he find out about it?" the question once again echoed in his head, as the scars again began to burn with live fire. It happened every single time whenever the topic of the accident was brought up. He wasn't sure what was more painful. The 3rd degree burns covering his body or the thought that his dad was gone forever?

A gas leak. A stupid gas leak. Pressing the light switch once was enough to ruin his whole life. Two dead casualties and one in critical condition after the Christmas Eve's gas explosion in a single-family home in a suburb of London, news bulletins were buzzing.

"Oh, you're sorry? I'm afraid that it's too late for that. That's it, Del. I've had enough."

The man turned his head, looking his boyfriend in the eyes. His body shaking, breath shallow. "What do you mean…?"

"Exactly what you have heard. It's over, I'm breaking up with you. I don't know if I can make it more clear." Noah shook his head, taking a step back.

"You can't leave me!" Del's voice broke, as his hands gripped on the man's shirt. "You can't do it to me!" he whimpered, like a kicked puppy.

"But that's exactly what I'm going to do, my dear." The words felt filled with hate. Like a concentrated acid being dropped on the naked soft skin. "I'm too tired to deal with your shit." The doctor muttered, shaking hands off him. A cold look pierced through the Brit's body and soul.

"Don't, Noah, please, don't leave me…" Lawson dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp shards of shattered mug. Sitting on the floor, drowning in his tears. Feeling so pathetic, so helpless.

"Go to therapy. Or something. You'll get yourself killed soon, if you won't stop living like this. If you even can call it a life. Morphine, alcohol, no sleep, no food." For the first time today Noah's voice broke. "I can't look at you slowly killing yourself. I… I love you. But I can't stand you anymore. Drinking won't bring your dad back, Del. He's dead. Buried in the graveyard, 6 feet under the ground."

"They should have buried me with him."

"I think they did." Noah turned around, heading towards the door. Taking the pack of cigarettes, he threw the coat over his shoulders and left.

The slam of the door was as loud as the sound of Del's heart being shattered. Sitting on the floor with pieces of mug scattered around, he cried. That was the only thing that he had left to do now.

Salisbury Plain Polygon, Great Britain (UTC+0)

18th of December 2017, 0823 hrs

The creak of snow under his boots annoyed him, not less than the voice of the drill sergeant.

"Move your asses! You're in the army, not at the beach with your families!" the man rushed them. "Two laps left, go, go!"

"Well, your fatass could also use a few laps." Del muttered under his breath, not stopping even for a moment. His head directed forward, looking in front of him. The last thing that the Brit wanted to happen was slipping on the icy ground.

He liked the training. It allowed him to clear his mind, keep the thoughts under control. It's been over a year since he joined the military, putting his shit together. He couldn't lie, that was one of the hardest things in his whole life.

The man wasn't even sure why he had chosen the army. It was a really random and impulsive choice. He didn't regret it, hell no. This job kept him busy, giving him some stability to make peace with all things that had happened.

Del didn't even realize that the training was over. Still being immersed in his thoughts, he leaned against the wall, taking a sip from the bottle.

"Keep it like this, kid." The voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I didn't like you at the beginning, but right now… " the drill sergeant nodded his head. "I'll be honest, I'm impressed with the effort you're putting in. Good job, keep it up."

"Thank you, sir."

"I recommended you to my friend, Captain Davies. He serves in RAMC."

"RAMC?"
"Royal Army Medical Corps. You used to be a paramedic, right?" the Brit muttered an acknowledgement. "So that's something for you. Maybe you'll even get to the SAS or other special forces."

"I didn't really think so forward about my future." Lawson smiled awkwardly.

"You're a smart guy. Caught up with all the weapons, the basics of QCF also seem easy for you. Not even mentioning the hand to hand combat. Great soldier in a great team. Like I said, keep it up and for sure you'll get noticed."

The man walked away, leaving Del still surprised. That was definitely not something that he expected to hear today.

"Whoa, what did "Mr. I have a stick shoved up my ass and it really annoys me" want from you?" the man's teammate poked him slightly.

"Surprisingly, he wanted to praise me." he shrugged.

"Damn, man. We should celebrate!" the soldier patted his shoulder, making the man smile.

They both headed towards the entrance of the building, when it started snowing again. Stopping for a second, Del looked at the sky. A single snowflake fell on his nose, causing him to chuckle.

It's good to be alive again.