Chapter 3

* * *

MICHAEL

Air Force Academy,

Colorado

Guess what, Mr. Fancy-Pants-Cadet Petersen?

You're pretending like you don't care - but I know better. You can't hide from me - we shared a womb, bro. Time is slipping away and while you've been gone, things have happened.

Poppy got her travel agent certification, and her Instagram is up! She's getting her business off the ground, and I'm so excited for her. Can you believe that? I thought you were going to write to her or say ‘Congratulations.' As ga-ga as you were over her, are you really going to continue acting like it's over?

I think we both know better.

Love,

Madison

Michael readthe letter twice and then put his fingers in his hair out of sheer frustration. He'd been at the Air Force Academy for a little over two and a half years and was ashamed to admit that he hated this place. When his friends were signing up, applying, and enrolling and he'd been caught up in the momentum easily.

So many of his childhood friends or acquaintances were in attendance. He saw them in the hallways of the Academy, but things were so strict at times that he couldn't really hang out with them. They didn't talk. Everyone stood at attention in uniforms, and when he had down time, most of them were trying to study to keep from failing classes. It didn't feel like home or even college – if felt like boot camp with graded tests, and wasn't what he imagined in the slightest.

He had another three years of this garbage, plus another year of flight school… and if he made it, then he had to serve ten years. That was fifteen years of this strict life, feeling like a prison sentence.

In fact, he had his first anxiety attack today and ended up in medical for ‘dehydration.' He just needed to stop, think, relax for a moment, and wished he had someone to talk to. Sure, there were counselors here, but he didn't want to be talked into this life he was pretty sure that this was not the life for him – and he was jealous of Poppy.

That was the reason he didn't email her.

He was jealous, afraid, lonely, and terrified that he would say something, allowing his innermost thoughts to get back to his dad. He didn't want to disappoint him, but this wasn't for him. What kind of ungrateful person did that make him? Because he was fully aware of what an incredible opportunity this was for him. Officer school led to placements, contracts, and connections. Several had gone on to work in government positions, became ‘Lifers' serving more than twenty years, and every time someone touted a benefit, it felt like another weight around his neck.

"Petersen!"

Michael looked up at his name and saw several guys standing in the doorway, all of them grinning. Yeah, someone was up to no good and knew he wasn't alone in chafing at the strict regimen.

"What's up?"

"We've got liberty and are heading into town to get a few beers, wanna go?"

Michael stood up, logged out, and nodded firmly before meeting the other guys" eyes as he unbuttoned his collar. This wasn't life, but the invitation to party with a few friends, now that he was finally twenty-one, wasn't exactly something he was going to turn down either. He needed to let loose so he didn't implode under the pressure.

"I need a break…"

"Yeah! Let's goooooo!"

* * *

Six hours later,the unthinkable happened.

Michael was completely drunk along with the other guys in a bar downtown. He was experiencing fun for the first time in two years, and there was a squabble in the distance that suddenly exploded all around them. Turns out the woman that was sitting at their table, propositioning them, wasn't exactly interested in having a few drinks. She was an undercover officer posing as a hooker - and one of the other cadets had slipped her some cash to lose his virginity. Things got out of hand, and all five of them were arrested for solicitation.

"D-Dad, it's M-Michael… and… I need help," Michael wept, not caring about image, pride, patriotism, or anything else. The strict life was designed to create a world of order and weed out those who didn't belong. That was him – a weed – and there was no more ‘bending in the wind'.

He'd finally broken.

Calling his father's cell phone from jail was not how he imagined this night would turn out, nor did he think that all five of them would be kicked out of the Academy twenty-four hours later.

"I'm on my way, Michael. Breathe, son – and we'll figure this out."

"I'm so sorry, D-Daddy…"

"I'm going to take off in just a few minutes as soon as I talk to your mother. You just stay put, breathe, and don't do or say anything else, okay? I'm on my way to help you, son."

"Yes, sir."

"Michael?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I love you, kiddo… just breathe. You're scaring me. You're my only son, and if this is the next step, we'll take it together." Michael broke down, clutching the phone and stammering uncontrollably for the first time in his life.

"I l-love y-you, t-too."

* * *

Two days later,Michael walked into the house and couldn't even look at his mother's shocked face or his sister's. Instead, he ran up the stairs of the house to hide, slamming his door shut and started crying again.

He was mortified, embarrassed, devastated, and ashamed. Yonder was a tiny town, and word was bound to get around, and then he heard the voices from below.

"What happened to my baby, Hunter?"

"Glory, lower your voice…"

"Don't tell me to lower my voice! My son looks terrified…"

"Daddy, is Michael okay?"

"Madison, just leave him alone and don't ask any questions…"

"Hunter, what happened?"

"Misconduct – and that is all this family is saying. Do you understand me? That young man upstairs has to be able to hold his head high, and they've already broken him."

"What do you mean?"

"He's stuttering Glory… he's traumatized."

"WHAT?!"Michael heard his mother's horrified voice and flinched.

"Madison, go to your room while I talk to your mother. Do not antagonize your brother. No more name calling, no more fighting, no more of everything – you got me? Home is a place you can always go, and this is Michael's home and always will be."

"Daddy, I'm not going to make things worse. He's my twin…"

"Go upstairs, sweetie…"

Michael heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and tensed, already aware of what was coming next. Sure enough, not two moments later, he heard his bedroom door open. Madison didn't say a word. His twin sister just laid down beside him and wrapped an arm around his stomach, holding him as he wept bitterly.

* * *

Five days later,hiding in his room and only coming out to eat, he heard a voice downstairs, followed by his father shushing his mom. Heavy footsteps were on the stairs from multiple people, causing Michael to look over his shoulder where he was lying there still in his pajamas at four in the afternoon.

His bedroom door opened, and he skittered backward on his bed, horrified to see Poppy's father standing there with a T-shirt in his hand and his Uncle Jackson right behind him. The two men walked inside and shut the door behind them, looking at him.

"Put that on," Houdini said firmly and tossed a Flyboys T-shirt at him. "Put it on right now. Get some jeans and a baseball cap to cover your hair since you look like you haven't showered in a week."

"W-What's g-going on?"

"Look, Michael," his uncle began, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We've both been through trauma we never imagined – and this isn't healthy."

"G-Go away…"

"No," Houdini said bluntly, staring at him. "You once told me that when you returned we'd have a different conversation and that you'd man up. Do it. Be a man and get up, get dressed, and let's go."

"Wh-Where?"

"You and I are going flying," Houdini said quietly. "Sometimes when you are frightened of something, you need to do it anyway just to reassure yourself that you are normal, still in control of your life and that it's truly yours."

"I can take him, Houdini…" his uncle said somberly, the implication hanging in the room before all of them, yet the quiet man with Poppy's dark eyes just stared at him – and Michael moved slowly to get dressed.

"Thumper, wait downstairs," Houdini began and turned his back to Michael as he moved to pull on his jeans. His Uncle Jackson left the room quickly, and he could hear his voice below talking to his parents. "My daughter saw something in you once… and your father saved my hide years ago, giving me a chance to be involved at Flyboys when I thought I lost everything. Life changes, but the steps we take are what define us as men."

"Y-Yes, s-sir."

"Stop that," Houdini snapped. "You aren't at the Academy anymore, so don't ‘sir' me, and don't you dare ‘salute' any of us. You are going to get your butt out of bed, come to work at Flyboys daily, and you are going to find your place with the rest of us – your makeshift family and your real one."

Houdini glanced over his shoulder and smirked at him, before turning and extending his hand, waiting. Michael slowly put his hand in his, shaking it, and met the man's hard eyes as his lips twitched.

"Welcome to Flyboys… now are you Thing One – or Thing Two? I never could get that straight, kid."

"Thing T-Two…"

"Relax, kid. Breathe. You're home, and it's a fresh start from here," Houdini said simply and walked out of the bedroom, before turning and putting a hand on his shoulder. "But first, do me a huge favor."

"Wh-What"s that?"

"Go hug your mother and tell her you are fine. Your mom keeps us in the air, so she's central to everything we do. If you are going to be flying, you want her taking care of you and not freaking out or distracted. In my family, Poppy and Abby come first. I expect it to be the same as yours."

Michael looked at the other man, searching his eyes, and realized that Houdini was giving him a few suggestions that he could apply later on, sharing how he expected things to work, if he ever came sniffing around Poppy again someday.

"W-Will do…"

"Oh, and one other thing?" Houdini smiled knowingly, "I stuttered for about a week. When you finally relax and start to let the stress from everything fade, it does get better. I promise."

He felt tears stinging his eyes and hated that he felt so fragile right now – only to have Houdini chuckle as he patted him on the cheek.

"Shhh. It's just us. Let's go hit the runway, okay?"

"O-Okay…"