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“I know,” Tommy sighs, amused, swatting Deo’s hand away. “I’ll be fine. Which one of us is the best pilot ever? Your words!”
Deo smacks him again, for a different reason. “I hadn’t slept in forty hours! You can’t possibly hold that against me!”
“I can, and I will,” Tommy sticks his tongue out, ducking under Deo’s hand, and launching himself up into the cockpit of his plane via the wing, effortless and light. After all this time, it’s still mesmerizing. “Just stick to my tail, and you’ll be fine. Promise. You’re a good pilot, as much as you refuse to admit it.”
Deo rolls his eyes fondly. “Well, this is my first solo flying mission, so I guess we’ll find out one way or another.”
“Deo,” Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I could reach you right now to slap you, I would. Actually, come here, get on the wing-”
“Why would I get in slapping range?” Deo shrieks, backing up six steps instantly. He’s honestly waiting for Tommy to hurtle himself out of the plane in pursuit. “That’s stupid-”
“Because you deserve it, idiot-”
“I am innocent! I’m an innocent man being unjustly punished-”
“Admit you’re a good pilot, dumbass-”
“You’ll never take me ali- Ow!” Deo whines, looking back at Luke, who levels him with an impressive tired look. He rubs the back of his head, sore from where Luke just smacked him.
“I smacked him, problem solved,” Luke says, pulling his goggles now. Even through his supposed annoyance, Deo can see the mirth. He relishes in Business Bay’s atmosphere - There’s no hostility to be found. They’re… Deo hesitates to say family, he’s never had a family before, but-
“Deo?” Bitzel waves his hand in Deo’s face. “You there, man?”
Deo jumps. He didn’t hear Bit approach - He internally reprimands himself. Don’t zone out like that while he’s flying. “Uh, yeah. Just nervous, you know? First time I’m not in Tommy’s plane. You know he can’t fend for himself.”
That last part was obviously a joke, and Tommy squawks in protest, a wordless noise that comes off as so offended it sends the Bay into giggles. Bitzel takes Deo by the shoulders, lets Deo step into his hand and helps him into his plane, shiny and new. Deo swallows.
“You’ll be fine,” Bitzel promises. “You’re a better pilot than you think.”
“Unsurprisingly,” Luke calls. “Like everything else you do, Deo, you’ve absolutely dominated the field. Well, nobody has anything on Tommy, but-”
“Damn right!” Tommy cheers. His voice comes down over the crackling mic as everyone slips their headphones over their ears. “Ready to go, boys?”
Two more cheers come over the mic, and Deo can’t help but cheer himself, despite how unready he feels.
If Deo’s tail smoking, Bitzel having to land, and Luke cornered means the battle is going well, Deo would say the battle is going swimmingly.
Maybe not the best word to use, he thinks, wobbling thousands of feet above uncharted ocean, acutely aware of the fact he could go down at any moment. He doesn’t know what was hit, but he’s relatively sure any part of your plane smoking isn’t good ?
Tommy, of course, is just fine. He’s in leader mode, barking orders down the microphone, covering everyone’s six all at once. He effortlessly evades enemy crafts, disabling them just as they’ve disabled his own planes. Deo has no time to watch, but it’s all he wants to do.
Deo dips out of the way as Tommy rockets above him, shooting down one of the planes that has Luke cornered. Luke takes the exit without a second of hesitation, and Deo breathes a sigh of relief when Luke sounds off that he’s perfectly fine, just a little shaken.
He’s so focused on these thoughts, zoned out just as he said he wouldn’t be, that when Bitzel’s cry of Deo! over the mic from where he is on the ground snaps him out of his own head, it’s already too late for him to act.
It’s not too late for Tommy - In that split second before the enemy plane, on some sort of suicide mission, hurtling towards Deo with intent to crash reaches him, Tommy’s plane turns, dives, and shoves itself between them.
Deo’s blood runs cold as he hears the metal crunch and static come down the line. He can hear Luke’s scream of Tommy’s name, Bitzel’s frantic questioning as to what exactly had occurred.
Deo points his plane towards the sea, Tommy’s wreckage already falling fast, but choked, Luke says, “Deo, no! Don’t-”
“We have to find him-” Deo shouts back, aware he’s panicking-
“People don’t survive crashes like that, Deo!” Luke shouts back, matching his volume. “Even then, we don’t have the fuel or the resources to help right now-”
“I’d rather die with him than leave without him-”
“No!” Bitzel out-shouts them both. He’s definitely crying - Deo can almost see it just by his voice’s thick wavers. “Deo, we can’t lose you too. We’re not strong enough, we couldn’t take it-”
Deo jerks. “Well, I can’t take losing him-”
“Deo, don’t-”
Deo pushes his plane into a nosedive.
Deo shakes, blanket around his shoulders. What could he have done to-
Deo hadn’t succeeded in finding Tommy, or even a hint of his wreck. He’d skimmed the water until he ran out of fuel, having to make an emergency water landing. Luke had picked him up, angrily put him in the passenger seat as Deo’d left his plane behind, reprimanded him, tears running down his face, over his tightly-pressed lips. Deo admits he’d choked on a sob or two as he’d curled up, watching his own plane and the last spot they’d seen Tommy fade into the distance, disappear altogether.
This was Deo’s fault, as much as the others insisted it wasn’t. He should have paid attention, protected Tommy the same way he always does, why couldn’t he do one simple task-
“Shut up,” Bitzel tells him.
“Was I thinking out loud?” Deo asks, slumping back into the blanket over his shoulders. It’s heavy in a way that’s nice. Luke had called it a shock blanket , whatever that is.
“Nope,” Bit shrugs. “You’re just really, embarrassingly easy to read. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“You,” Deo grumbles. “More than once.”
Bitzel cracks a smile. “That’s right!”
“What was the point of this interaction, Bit?”
“To stop you from thinking like that. It worked, didn’t it?”
Huh. So it had.
“Tommy is the toughest motherfucker I’ve ever met,” Bitzel continues. “Name one time you’ve seen him give up. We’ve seen him get himself ripped to pieces and still spit on Death’s boots. If he’s not on his way home right now, he’s probably still treading water, yelling at God to go fuck himself.”
Deo wonders what kind of life he lives, knowing he’s seen Tommy do exactly that. The memory makes him chuckle, but he sobers quickly. “You heard what Luke said, Bit. People don’t survive crashes like that. It-”
“Don’t you dare,” Bit’s voice is shaking, and Deo looks up, eyes widening upon seeing the sudden anger in Bit’s own. “Don’t you dare say it should’ve been you.”
“Shouldn’t it have been?” Deo asks. He feels like he’s shrinking under Bitzel’s glare. “That hit was meant for me.”
“Tommy did what he did because he cared about you,” Bitzel snarls. “You would’ve done the same for him. He knew what he was doing. Don’t pretend like he didn’t.”
Deo doesn’t miss the way Bitzel refers to Tommy in the past tense. “Well, Bit, it was a mistake! The difference between me and Tommy is I’m expendabl-”
“No you’re not !” Bitzel shouts, and Deo shrinks back from the yelling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s alri-”
“You know you’re not, right?” Bitzel asks, barely above a whisper, eyes wet. “You know you’re not expendable, don’t you?”
Deo bows his head. Bit pulls him into a tight hug, letting Deo tuck his chin over Bit’s shoulder, soft and warm and safe.
“You’re not,” Bit whispers, repeats over and over. “You’re not, you’re not, you’re not.”
“Good news,” Luke said, wiping at his red-rimmed eyes, walking over to where Deo and Bitzel sit, curled together. “I sent out a message asking for anyone to look for him since both we and our planes are in no shape to, and - Well, they answered.”
Luke flips his communicator around, and Deo nearly chokes. There must be at least fifty messages confirming going out or what areas they’ve covered - Bitzel covers his hand with his mouth.
“Right?” Luke asks, with a smile. “For better or worse, someone’s gonna find him. I bet he’s laying on a beach somewhere waiting for us.”
Deo focuses in on the communicator. Techno’s message is simply a thumps up emote, followed up by Phil saying Techno is scouring the Antarctic Ocean, chunk by chunk . Grunk has claimed the sea surrounding Business Bay and Log Lagoon, along with, surprisingly, Icebomb. Wilbur says he’s searching the length of his bridge, because the area is wide and unmapped enough that it just may be the place.
“I didn’t know they…” Deo trails off.
“You haven’t even seen anything,” Luke snorts. “He’ll never admit it, and neither will they, but they seriously care about him.”
“He’s easy like that,” Bitzel chimes in, smiling softly. “He’s easy to love.”
Deo thinks - He is, isn’t he? Under all of Tommy’s grandiose, his annoyingly persistent persona, loud and confident, he’s sweet. He’s sweet and quiet and careful, looking before he takes any step in any direction. Hell, Deo even finds Tommy’s outward persona easy to love.
Maybe it’s the way Tommy loves anything and anyone he’s ever known, does know, will know. Maybe it’s the way Tommy has the biggest bleeding heart Deo’s ever seen. Maybe it’s the way Deo’s never felt so fiercely loved before.
Tommy is easy to love, to dedicate time and energy and your life to. Deo’s been doing it for years, all the way back since Deo’s competitive Hypixel days when they met. A sick feeling fills his stomach, suddenly - Tommy had depended on Deo as a safety net for the longest while.
The one time Tommy needed him for real, Deo had failed to catch him in time.
“How long do we wait?” Luke asks, voice hoarse. “Before we…”
“Admit it?” Deo chuckles mirthlessly. “How long can someone survive at sea with no supplies?”
“Three days?” Bitzel offers. “Five? Probably more. It’s Tommy.”
“Bit…” Deo trails off.
“A little bit of optimism won’t kill you, Deo,” Bitzel says, softly. Deo wishes he would yell. Deo needs someone to yell at him already - Someone to blame him, scream in his face, rip the remainder of his home away from him. He needs someone to ruin the life he’s built here - God knows he deserves it.
Bitzel won’t yell. Neither will Luke. They won’t blame him. Deo doesn’t understand why not.
The Antarctic Empire’s great planes land smoothly in the field - Techno is the first visible, lowering himself to the ground carefully. Phil is next, hopping right out, catching the wind on his wings to break the fall.
Deo looks up at them from where he’s feeding the cows. Techno is walking a little faster than usual. When he reaches Deo, he hovers over him awkwardly, seeming unsure what to do.
Deo drops his head, leaning it against Techno’s chest. He’s so exhausted. Slowly, surely, Techno’s arms come up around him, and they, for a long moment, simply sway.
“How’re you doin’?” Techno asks quietly, and Deo presses closer. “That bad, huh, kid? You were never the hugger of the bunch. What’s goin’ on?”
“I,” Deo says, unable to continue. He knows what he wants to say, but the prospect of saying the words aloud makes it too real. “It’s… my fault.”
Techno barks a gentle laugh, incredulous. “How in the world is it your fault?”
“He took the hit for me,” Deo can’t stop it from spilling all out now that he’s started. “He flew between me and the plane because I wasn’t paying enough attention, got himself crushed because I froze like a deer in headlights. He’s dead at the bottom of the ocean because of me, Techno, I- I killed him.”
It hits at that moment just what Deo’s done. He chokes, wiping furiously at his tears, pulling back so Techno’s shirt doesn’t get wet. Techno, to Deo’s shock, doesn’t let him - He holds Deo close, warm and comforting as he rumbles comfortingly. He waits for Deo to calm down a tiny bit before he starts.
“Deo,” Techno says. “I don’t mean to undermine your experience in any way, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Deo freezes.
“I mean,” Techno seems to be looking for the right words. “You knew him better than I did, for sure, but one thing I knew about him is he would smack you for thinking like this - Hard enough to rattle your brain back to normal.”
“I killed him,” Deo whispers. “How didn’t I?”
“He chose to do what he did,” Techno states, leaving no room for argument. “He knew what he was doin’, and knew how it would end. I’ve never seen a better pilot than that kid. He knew the risks, took ‘em, and exactly what was goin’ to happen happened. He made a choice, he stuck with it, and we both know that there’s no way any of us could stop him once he made a choice, in any situation. He had a one track mind, when he used it. It was admirable.”
Deo’s fists curl into Techno’s shirt.
“You couldn’t have stopped him,” Techno tells him. “None of us could’ve.”
“Are you ready?” Luke asks, carefully, tying Deo’s tie. Deo’d never learned how for himself, because Tommy had always insisted on doing it for him, making sure he didn’t mess it up himself. Tommy would tut disapprovingly, like a mother, Deo would joke, as he looped the tie with nimble fingers, perfect every time. Deo would do anything…
“No,” Deo confesses, shaky. “How could I be?”
“You can’t,” Luke responds, voice hollow. “I’m not either, I just…”
“This was never supposed to happen,” Deo finishes. Luke nods, slowly. It’s beautiful and sunny, Deo and Luke are wearing warm, pressed suits, and the day is Tommy’s funeral.
Deo’s heard planes coming in all morning, landing in the field, but he’d stayed curled in bed, unable to believe this was happening. It was time for the beginning of the services, so Deo and Luke and Bit, curled up together, had forced themselves to give up. Bitzel was already outside, greeting guests while Luke got Deo ready.
Luke slips his hand into Deo’s as they walk outside, and Deo looks up, gasps, smiles.
He’s never seen it - Only heard about it from Tommy, showing him dusty books under the covers late at night. He didn’t know it was performed on the server - From Luke’s twin gasp, it’s differently not.
Twenty-one planes fly overhead, in a V Deo didn’t think he’d ever see in person. Missing man formation - A military salute to a missing pilot, a missing friend. Tommy. Deo watches as they fly low overhead, and he can feel the roaring wind on his cheeks as they pass. The leader of the formation pulls up sharply, and the rest of the flight continues on, rumbling away as they circle back, land.
Bitzel loops an arm around Deo’s back, and Luke leans against him, forming one huddle, impossible to see where each boy ends. Deo’s heart is so empty and full, so empty of Tommy and full of loss but also family, love, bittersweetness. The people in the planes come over - All people Deo recognises. Wilbur had been the leader, and behind him had been Phil, Sylvee, Wisp, Grunk, Icebomb, Charlie, Sophie. There’s a whistle from Deo’s other side - It’s time to begin.
Deo looks behind him, where the elaborate wooden casket is lifted, borne. Techno is at the front of the casket-bearing procession, lifting most of the weight on his side, face stony. They bring it forward, forward, forward as Wilbur plays the guitar, tune simple and solemn.
Deo feels Bitzel press his wet face into Deo’s neck. Deo shifts to pull him closer, letting his own tears fall gently. Luke slips under Deo’s other arm, taking Bitzel’s hand in front of Deo’s stomach, Deo holding one hand of Luke’s and one of Bitzel’s. They’re wound together so intricately that Deo doesn’t think they’re detangleable, even if they wanted to be (which they don’t).
The casket is laid in the center of the flowers everyone’s brought - Red and white, gold like Tommy’s hair and the deep blue of his eyes. The casket is placed so it doesn’t squish any of the newly planted blooms, which Deo will be taking care of until his own dying day. He thinks Tommy would have bitched and moaned about Deo being clingy, but would have visibly loved it, lit up at the sight.
“I think he would have loved them,” Luke whispers, as if reading Deo’s mind. “You’re up, Dee.”
Deo takes a deep breath. “This isn’t easy,” He starts, projecting across the crowd, who all turn his way. Luke disconnects their hands to rub his back. “I’m sure all of you know that I would have done anything he asked without hesitation, from the most mundane thing to the most dangerous. No request was too small, because he’s done so much for me, a debt I could never - and wasn’t ever able - to pay back. I’m sure, to some degree, a lot of you feel the same.”
“Truth is,” Deo says, and his mouth feels dry, but he can’t stop. He’s gone off-script from his rigid, planned speech - He can’t stop talking now, has to get it out. “Tommy was my home - Both the home he gave me physically and the sanctuary provided. Even when I had nobody, even on Hypixel, when I would retreat to some corner to lick my wounds in shame, he would find me, bandage me up, fix my mood. Even when we barely knew eachother, he made it clear he was always… by my side.”
The only noise besides Deo is the ocean, crashing on the shore.
“He was easy to love, the way Bit said it,” Deo chokes. “He was kind and just and so full of empathy and kindness that it was just short of overwhelming. His heart bled for everyone he met, even me, perhaps the most undeserving, and that’s why we…”
“You can stop,” Bitzel whispers. “If you wanna.”
“Tommy was everything to me and most of you,” Deo whispers, even though he’s projecting still. It’s hoarse. “I’d trade my life for his in an instant. I handed him my heart, beating and vulnerable, without the walls I’d kept, and he treasured it. I’ll never forget what he did for me. The expression goes that people seem better after they die, but I… I don’t agree with that, here. He was perfect the way he was. We all loved every part of him. I won’t stop that, even now. Tommy, I’m so sorry. I love you. Safe passage.”
Deo is sobbing now, and Bit opens his mouth to speak, cradling Deo to his chest along with Luke, and the intercom above the storage area crackles loudly.
Everyone at the funeral freezes, and Deo fees his heart lift, just a little. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, it’s not-
“Tommy to Business Bay, do you copy?” The intercom asks, and Deo can’t help but audibly sob, finally, not crying silently anymore. “Hello? Do you copy?”
“We copy,” Luke shouts, communicator whipped out of his pocket. “Business Bay to Tommy, Tommy, what are your coords?”
Deo is holding his breath, finding it hard to breathe as everyone stares in shock at the intercom. After a horrible moment of silence, Tommy lists off his shaky coordinates. He sounds exhausted and hoarse and miserable, but he’s alive .
Deo is the first to a plane, hopping in the passenger seat of Bitzel’s. Bitzel is right on his tail, Deo yanking him up into the plane. They take off, and Deo can hear the roar of the other planes behind them as the entire procession takes off in the direction of the coordinates given.
Deo can’t breathe. There’s no way.
The communicator is hooked up hastily to the entire procession, so even though it’s a little bit scuffed, their voices crackle through clearly.
“I see him,” Sylvee calls. “Deo, you said you wanted to go down to get him? We’ll keep circling. Go get your boy.”
“Roger,” Deo says into the mic, throwing a thick rope over the side of the plane, which Bitzel ties down. Deo hops over the side of the plane, sliding down the rope, and Bitzel gets him hovering right over-
No way.
Tommy is curled up, malnourished, dehydrated, and sunburned, in the cockpit of the jet Deo’d left behind. Deo drops in, gently as he can, and he has Tommy in his arms before Tommy can react.
Deo chokes a sob into Tommy’s hair, and Tommy’s shaky fingers cling to his jacket as hard as he can. “You’re alive, you self-sacrificial bastard,” Deo tells him, watery. Tommy hums.
“I’m too big of a man to die,” Tommy murmurs, seemingly unable to speak above a whisper. “You look nice. What’s the occasion?”
“We were having your funeral,” Deo smacks the back of his head, impossibly gentle, only in jest. Tommy squawks.
“Well, no need,” Tommy giggles. “Because as you can see, I am not dead.”
“No shit,” Deo giggles in return. “I can’t believe you’re… When we get some food and water into you, we’re going to talk about this. From now on, though, I’m riding passenger in your plane. Not compromising.”
“That’s honestly fair,” Tommy shrugs, gripping tightly around Deo’s neck as Deo wraps one strong arm around his waist, the other around the rope. “It was nice having you with me, honestly. Much less anxiety.”
Deo tugs the rope. “You’re telling me, man.”
They’re tugged, slowly but surely, back into Bitzel’s plane. Tommy curls into Deo, barely enough room in the seat for them both. Deo puts his jacket over Tommy’s head to keep the sun off of his exposed skin. Bitzel hands Tommy water, and Tommy’s eyes are lidded.
As the plane takes off, following the others home, Deo murmurs into Tommy’s hair, holding him tightly, hoping to send him to sleep.
“He’s asking for you, Deo!” Wilbur calls, out the door of Tommy’s house. “I’ll have the medical report ready in a few.”
“Thank you,” Deo tells Wilbur, finding he’s incredibly serious about it. “For all of this.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Wilbur waves a hand. “You know I love him.”
“Yeah,” Deo replies, thinking back to what Luke had said what feels like so long ago. He nods, and then slips into the room.
“Did you know I have four broken ribs?” Tommy whines, the first thing he says. Even in the short few hours of medical treatment, he already looks worlds better. “Isn’t that lame?”
“Nah,” Deo shrugs. “I’m honestly surprised you don’t have more. Hell of a crash. We thought you’d been crushed…”
“I was,” Tommy says softly, waving Deo’s concerned look away. “No, don’t be like that. It saved my life. I was trapped in an air pocket underwater, pinned. It was probably only like fifteen, twenty feet down. It was a pretty big pocket, so it took what I think was a whole day for me to really need to worm my way out. I managed to force my way under and up, and that’s where I found your plane.”
Deo takes Tommy’s hand in both of his.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy dismisses the sappiness. “Your plane didn’t have any food, but it had a little water, and that was the other thing that saved my life - That and the fact that I was able to crawl under the main panel to get out of the sun. From there, it was a matter of getting the radio working, and then, well, you know the story from there.”
“I’m sorry,” Deo whispers, feeling hollow. Tommy is covered in bandages, peeling skin, and he’s even skinnier than usual. This is his fault.
“Don’t you dare,” Tommy snaps. “I will deck you. Deo, it was not your fault. It was my choice, and I’d do it again. If you blame yourself one more time I will actually throttle you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Deo teases. “Even when you’re at 100%.”
“I could kick your ass!” Tommy declares. “I could!”
“Suuuure,” Deo mocks, and they devolve into playful bickering, playful slapping.
It ends with Deo and Tommy, curled up in the bed together, Tommy running his fingers through Deo’s hair. They’re comfortable, and Deo thinks this may be the first fitful sleep he’ll get since Tommy had gone missing. Tommy’s fingers still, his breathing evening out.
Deo takes that as his cue, and closes his eyes.