The sails of memory rip open in silence

[m_pinocchio]

The Island isn't the only place Mike has ever been where even routine shit manages to be surprising, but it has to be close to the top of the list. What list, measuring what, he's not entirely sure; maybe just by any measure, the Island would be close to the top of most lists he can think of. In any case, when he walks outside and all the snow is

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[little_moons]

"Would you look at that," I say, looking down over his shoulder at the photo in his hand. I slip a hand into his hair, strands slipping through my fingers, and drop into a crouch beside him.

"Findin' all kinds of shit today." There's a whole shitload of seeds and bulbs and tiny trees, all set up in the back yard. I assumed, when we found them this morning, that they belonged to Mike, but apparently I was wrong. Tied around the trunk of a tiny, immature pomegranate tree, was a single tag. Neil.

I still can't figure it the fuck out.

[m_pinocchio]

"Yeah," he breathes. He closes his eyes, tilts his head back into the touch. His throat is tight, eyes stinging slightly, but it's not really as painful as it might be. It's bittersweet.

"Thaw comes, everything starts happening."

[little_moons]

"Yeah, it does," I murmur, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck, just a brief press of warm lips before I pull away.

"When was this?" I ask, reaching down to turn the picture out of the glare of the sun, a line of faces looking up at me, only one familiar.

[m_pinocchio]

"Desert Storm," he says, handing the photo over and clearing his throat softly. "They all went into the Realm later. All of them. I only ever found one."

He points with one dirty finger, not quite touching. "Johnny. Johnny Cabot. He was my best friend for... a lotta years."

[frakkup]

Kara sat down hard beside him, face folded with an affected disdain. "Oh good," she chirped, "now we can move dirt around with our hands again. You must be super frakking pumped."

She looked over at him with a grin, but it faded at the quiet expression on his face. "Mike?"

[m_pinocchio]

"Hm?" He's blinking a little as he looks up, not quite tears but the threat of them. A wave of memory, good and bad, lives that had touched his and moved on.

Full circle.

He smiles faintly. "I'm fine. I'm... yeah, pumped. Just found something is all."

[frakkup]

Something from home, no doubt, and the last of Kara's smile wiped from her face. "Good or bad?" she asked, knowing full well that even the good surprises had a tendency to feel like a fist to the gut.

[m_pinocchio]

"Mostly good, I think," he says, holding the photo out to her, careful to keep his fingers at the edges. And he is pretty sure that, on balance, it's good.

It feels like a thing he's been waiting for, without realizing it.

"It's me and my squad in Kuwait. Desert Storm."

[abbysciuto]

"I don't think photo paper is really biodegradable," Abby noted semi-helpfully. She'd brought a few clothes back to the World Tree, since they'd been left at her place and thus she'd washed them. She didn't mind doing that, but the little bitty sweaters weren't gonna fit at all no matter how much she tried.

It was clearly an important photo and she recognized the uniform vintage, but sometimes Mike didn't want to share, so she started with casual things.

[m_pinocchio]

"Probably not," he says, looking up at her with a faint smile. "Good thing I'm digging it up and not trying to bury it." He looks back down at it, chuckles, swipes at one eye with his less dirty hand.

"Second thing the Island's left buried in here for me."

[abbysciuto]

"Maybe it really likes making you dig in the dirt?" she suggested, since that seemed as plausible as anything else the island did.

"Or it knows you'll always come here, so it doesn't have to leave you things and then feel rejected when you don't go get them or something?"

She could come up with all kinds of theories as to why the island did what it did, and none of them were going to be right.

[m_pinocchio]

"Could be," he says. "Could be it likes its little jokes." And it's hard to take this as anything else. Though, he's thinking maybe it's also something a little bit more. Not just a joke.

The last missing piece.

"Either way... wouldn't wanna hurt its feelings."

[out_of_realm]

"Look at that handsome buck," Tom said, grinning as he came up behind him, dropping into a low crouch beside him in the dirt. He reached a hand up, wiping away sweat and mud from Mike's cheekbone.

"All that cammo," Tom said, making an approving noise, watching Mike carefully just in case. Mike these days was more at peace with himself than he'd ever been and Tom had a feeling it would take more than a photo to undo him. He spread a hand on the back of his neck.

"When was this?"

[m_pinocchio]

"Desert Storm," he says, and it comes out in a quiet sigh, leaning back against Tom's frame. It feels like a last knot inside himself is unraveling and slipping free. A little painful, a lot good. "Kuwait."

He points without touching the photo. "Remember Johnny? He got picked up by that bounty hunter?"