Avalon

•15•

Willing

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There were many kinds of things Noel had regrets about. Mostly those things are the ones he hadn't done.

First it was his early life. Genetic testing after he was born and how he never tried to learn about his gifts that obviously was why he never had normal life. While he did enjoy the partly normal life now it was those days he found himself chain smoking hours away and drinking himself to sleep so his nostalgia would leave for the night.

And no it definitely wasn't a good thing he was doing. But nobody tried to keep him away from so be it.

On this rather boring night or possibly day (hard to tell if all you saw was star clad nothingness and fluorescent lights drilling through your skull) Noel was back to sulking mode. But this time not for his usual reasons.

Today he was given this envelope too fancy for even entering such decorated premises and it had his whole official title on it with swirly golden font. Too personal and too posh. The thing that caught his eye the most was the color of envelope itself. It was matte black making the gold lettering stand out even more.

A piece of art he suddenly recalled some other, similar looking invitation letter that was indeed true piece of art and stored in a museum back home. That was ages ago and back in the day he was still fresh to Nate's little business. It was that time they were both fallen for Samara and she always pointed at the most fancy things. They always tried to get those things to her.

But for that one they had a concurrence neither recognized. It was simply lifted off the stand in a way neither understood and that was it.

Following morning the press had been constantly exploding about the most precious theft that month which rumored to be a work of a legend of almost eight years of evading every single law enforcement operative unit. Not just Americans but practically whole globe.

They didn't get to hear the story to the end because many things happened after that. Including Samara and her disappearance and new shit hitting the fan for both guys.

To this day Noel wondered who was their thief. The real one. He saw somewhat side glanced titles and stuff but the picture was yet to be taken for the guy all world kept falling for but never getting to know.

However judging by his skill level Noel could guess whether it was one from their group or not. Because if he was martini dry honest they were trained to be like that just capable of reversing their programming into understanding their fellows long enough to catch them. The whole base to official reasoning behind the whole project. It was just few rebels that got it all wrong and wreak havoc to get their way.

Noel sighed with a palm of his hand rubbing at his face in a tired manner. It's been too long since he last saw Nate and there was a hole in his chest forming slowly, day after day, the longer he was away from his longest term relationship he'd ever had in life. It just never occurred before, not until the hospital, that what he believed to be very loyal friendship, bordering on brotherhood, could be something even more deeper and profound.

It was just after the last hospital incident when he woke up alone he realized he was so tired of being alone. And that he still missed their adventures together.

He looked down at the envelope and just knew without looking inside that it was about the Gala everyone was talking about. The whole Enterprise was hyped about it and they were eager to attend. Because to them it was one more last chance to be heard. In a world scattered across the universe with so much vast nothingness in between such events were like an oasis smack dab in the middle of a desert. They were so thirsty to at least once shine as bright as the stars they pass for years to no end. To all the space shuttle people that was something real and palpable to look forward to. It was like standing on your own feet again, after long time of not feeling them.

Noel knew that feeling and understood them. They didn't get his disinterest in the Gala but he knew it all too well.

Throwing the third empty liquor bottle into a corner he dropped the envelope on his bedside table, where it landed with a resounding plop, Noel lifted himself off the chair he'd been sitting for hours. His back made all the pops and cracks, and clicks where metal touched metal, and tinged where scars covered connection screws and staples. A wave of numb tingling washed over his legs and seeped into carpet through his bare feet.

He lit another cigarette and dragged a long intake. Yes, he was badly crippled, but still held some shit against half the fleet.

To this day all of the looks he received, disgusted or awestruck, were burnt in his retinas as a reminder of what he went through. He always loved flying and if not so much stars then the piloting as itself. It made him free. Like when he did it first time after learning to sit and not fall off the chair. He was taken to a real ship- small crafter with two pilot spots. That day Noel Alisson was reborn and seriously begun fighting for his body again.

He once again reclaimed his official nickname Narcho and they later carved it onto his Raptor. On top of that his office label held it too.

Only his birth certificate didn't held the nickname. But they all had left their old names back in the same bin with their old lives.

But he actually kept his own name just dropped the middle one since nickname held it for him just as fabulously.

Nate did keep his first name, but Noel did know the real one- before everything- Nathaniel Elliott Bennett. Later he had just a code number like all in the place but they made some names too just for themselves. He was Narcho, Nate was Nick and... there was another boy he now barely recalled even existed. His name was Danny and he was extremely twin-ish close looking to Nate. But they lost him and never heard of him.

It was odd these memories came back like random waves in the ocean. Like random meteors shooting across his window.

And it all felt so surreal and far away it barely left an imprint in his memory. But then it was all still there and intact, mostly.

With the last glance at the window and snap of his fingers Noel dropped into his bed as the room momentarily fell dark. Some days he just never could get enough drunk or high to simply lay numb and emotionless on his bed. Just empty from all thought and stress or memories that hit him like those meteors outside.

Suddenly he felt very willing to attend the Gala. Somehow the small sliver of hope kept the flame inside alive despite all.

He glanced at the card one more time and felt determined to not let it pass. Even if for the fun of having free alcohol and steady ground under his feet. Or maybe he could just use his old chair and feed some juicy story while getting more alcohol without falling off his feet. Yup, that idea struck genius to Noel and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.