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on my way to believing

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Sky wonders where it all went wrong, he's prided on being meticulous and well prepared for just about everything. Studies hard, knows the rule book off by heart, works hard but knows when to take a break. Yet he's sat in the rec room, wondering where everything went wrong.

 

It's February the 13th and Sky's mentally going over things, trying to work out exactly why he's covered in pink love hearts and glue.

 

Sky swore once on a metal bracelet, what feels like eons ago, that he would never love again. Now he's swearing on pink balloons and peeling stickers off his face. He wishes it wasn't love that he felt, but it is. He's not even B Squad any more, he's the commander of this entire branch, he should be treated with respect. Yet the rest of his team, (who aren’t really his team anymore, but are bonded to him forever by the mysterious ways of the morphin grid) has abandoned him to the Valentines decorations. There's a small love heart sticker stuck on his cheek, it's one of those hard ones that pulls on the skin, he's itching to take it off, but the catch is the glue that’s gumming up his hands and sticking to just about everything.

 

The motivation for all of this is little Sydney Drew. Pink packs a punch and he find himself knowing how heartbroken he'd feel if she didn't have a perfect Valentine’s day. So, he blows balloons and sits and wonders where it all went wrong, wonders when he fell in love.

 

Bridge finds Sky passed out, part glitter part man, snoring sporadically on the floor. Sky looks soft and young asleep, less burdened by the world. Bridge finds the strength in him to carry Sky next door, to their old shared room that's now just the Red Rangers. It's a bigger bed than the two singles that previously occupied the room, but it’s not a double.

No surprise that Sky wakes up entangled in Bridge, covers thrown around haphazardly.

His first thought is that he can still feel the pull of the heart sticker on his face. His second thought is that he's not in his own quarters, but that thoughts quickly interrupted by the flutter in his chest. It's Valentine’s day and the bed he’s lying in is warm and it’s been a while since he’s been in this situation. Overworking himself is a habit he has yet to kick. And no one’s going to sue him if he allows himself to indulge. Bridge has a leg thrown over him, face snuggled into his chest and arms noodling Sky's body. It should be overbearingly warm, but it’s comfortable. Considering Bridge is an empath, he’s a deep sleeper, so Sky has no qualms pressing a kiss to the top of biscuit coloured hair and extracting himself from the tangle of limbs.

 

He wanders down the corridors, waking up at 0400 hours is ingrained in him, so the hallways are bare apart from the occasional cleaner or security staff. Padding into his quarters and changing out from his sleep crumpled uniform. He’s given command to Kat and Boom for the day, so he takes a longer shower and pulls himself into civilian clothes. By the time he’s coming out of his room, presents wrapped and ready under his arm. It’s 6am and breakfast is being served in the mess hall, but like usual his team is taking it in the rec room. Z is bushy eyed awake eating orange segments that are slightly sour judging from the look on her face, when she sees him, she smiles a knowing smirk. Bridge is already upside down, plate of what was toast next to him. Sky notes that he still looks half asleep.

And Syd, little Syd is sat all blonde curls and gorgeousness looking like she has everything and knows it. She’s sat in the pink and red glow of the tacky valentines’ balloons and the handmade cards.

 

It hits him. Destroys all the foolish doubts that had clouded yesterday’s preparation, that had only started to dispel when he woke up in Bridge’s arms.

 

This is why he fell in love, this feeling of being surrounded by people who love and trust you. How could he not love and trust them in return? They give him so much, despite him being sometimes overbearingly authoritative, grumpy at odd hours, distant and so on. They respect him for being himself.

 

Syd’s done her make-up, so she has little pink love hearts in her eyeshadow, and gloss sticky shiny on her lips. (Sky notes that Bridge has a shiny gloss mark on his cheek already.)  Her make up compliments the room and compliments the present he gives her. The ring looks beautiful on her finger, diamond refracting the early morning light. Her laugh is rings pure through the air, soft and delightful.

 

 

Sky wonders where it all went so right, how he ended up so fortunate to be in this situation. How everything was worth it, all the battles and the scars and the broken hearts from long ago. Give’s his pink the best Valentines day she will ever have. He was a good blue, and a good red and now he’s the best he can be at commanding level. Yet all those rewards and satisfaction at his job mean nothing, felt hollow until this.

 

The day is spent, in long walks in the park, exchanging of flowers and candlelit dinners. He doesn’t once reach for his communicator or stop to wonder if Kat and Boom have everything under control. Instead he lets himself get swept up in the romance, the saccharine sweetness of the day. His present is a solid metal ring, a thick band and a fine chain, it sits around his neck and rests delicately in his chest. It doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels like belonging.

 

Thinks it’s the grace of whatever higher being that’s watching over them (probably Cruger), that there are no emergency call outs. It’s just a day to be free and in love.

 

And he is all of those things.