When the Sky Falls [Oneshot]

When Brody had graduated from the Peacekeeper Academy, Nolan knew he would have to come to terms with the fact that his boy would be putting himself in danger on a regular basis. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop him, to persuade Brody somehow that there were other things he could do with his life; to beg, to plead, to reason, to argue.

But Nolan knew better than to think he could.

Brody would respect his father's opinion, but he wouldn't change his mind; Nolan knew him too well. He had inherited many things from Nolan, including his insatiable appetite for travel and excitement, one that could be fulfilled tenfold as a Peacekeeper in ways that Nolan would never have the privilege of experiencing. It was an adventure, and Brody had always loved an adventure.

There had been a few close calls in the past. Brody had recounted to him --against his better judgement-- nearly drowning once in District 4, responding to a fire in a paper mill in District 7, and who knew what else had happened to him in the span of time he had been an interrogator without his parents' knowledge.

His heart still hurt to think of what the military had done to Brody, to put him in such a fearsome position as to have to question potentially-innocent suspects about the goings-on of cases they might have no other hand in than guilt by association. Nolan refused to think about the possibility that Brody had conducted torture on someone; his boy was sharp, he always had been (he got it from his mother). He would know.

Nolan didn't know how he would know, but to believe Brody was good enough to determine who deserved it was as far as he wanted to think about it.

He also didn't want to think about the look on Brody's face when he had confronted his son with the truth; his boy had looked like a cornered animal, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Nolan knew his son well enough not to need words to know what he felt; there was fear. There was anger, that someone had told on him.

But more than anything, there had been shame.

Shame at what, was anyone's guess. At being caught in a lie, at having his parents find out about a none-too-palatable profession he'd been working to hide from them, in himself for ever taking it up in the first place...

They'd spent many hours just talking. Brody hadn't made any attempt to justify why he did what he did, avoiding his father's eyes and speaking in short, clipped tones. He'd sounded oddly like a child being caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar; though if only the offense in question had been so cut-and-dry.

But Nolan still loved his son, with all of his heart. And he made sure that Brody knew it. Brody was his son, his baby, and there wasn't a damn thing that would make Nolan feel differently.

They had left on a somber, but somehow more relieved note. Nolan didn't know how long Brody had been keeping this secret from him, but he didn't feel the need to ask; it was moot now anyway.

So, Nolan had simply fallen back into the swing of things; it took a little getting used to, part-time training potential future tributes at the Career Training Center, but it was nice to be able to pick up the sword (or put up his fists) again to pass the skills onto someone else. Brody was still an avid student, but military life didn't afford him as many trips home as either he or his mother and father would have liked. Besides, with Brody not due to get out of the Peacekeepers until his late thirties, he wasn't expecting grandchildren anytime soon; this was no substitute, of course, but he had no complaints.

Every day, he worked the quarry; he trained future Careers; he came home to the love of his life while they did their best not to succumb to that empty-nest-syndrome their older friends sometimes joked about.

Things weren't ideal, but they were good.

At least, for a while they were.

Nolan had been working at the quarry when a Peacekeeper had come into the tunnel, asking for him by name.

"Nolan O'Rourke?"

He looked up from a set of plans the foreman had been showing some of the crew leaders, feeling his heart leap up into his throat; it was one thing to be summoned by the Peacekeepers. But having one in uniform come find you at your work or your home was never a good sign.

"Aye."

Nolan stood, folding his arms; he wasn't a military man himself, but being around his wife and son had clued him into a few things about Peacekeepers. The young man in front of him was wearing his service uniform, and the chevrons on his collar indicted he was a Staff Sergeant; higher than Brody, but nowhere near the rank McKenna had held before she left the Corps. Nolan couldn't tell what the paper in his hand was or what it said, but he swallowed hard; this wasn't good news.

"Sir, I'm here to collect you."

Though they didn't show it openly, it was clear that the stone masons around them were listening intently to their exchange; Nolan was one of the last people anyone would expect to find himself on the wrong side of the law. Things might get interesting.

"On what charge?" He challenged. Nolan knew he would be powerless to do anything if they did have something on him (which they shouldn't), but if they were going to take him away they would do so with his dignity intact.

"No charge, sir."

Now people were looking up; there were only so many things a Peacekeeper could before other than an arrest, and it was a well-known fact who Nolan's wife and son were.

The Staff Sergeant's face was grim, even the tiniest bit sympathetic. "I'm here about your son, Corporal O'Rourke."

"... Brody?" Nolan felt his voice catch involuntarily in his throat, "What about him?"

"Your son, Corporal O'Rourke, is in the hospital."

No. No... No, no, no, no...

"He's hurt...?" Nolan breathed, feeling a knot of worry forming in his chest, hard and unyielding and stealing his breath away, "How bad is he?"

"I can't say." The Staff Sergeant replied, his tone even but none too happy to be here either; delivering the news wasn't much more palatable than receiving it. "We've sent someone to your wife as well... You were both listed as his next of kin."

It felt like the ground had fallen away beneath Nolan's feet; the silence of his coworkers and friends around him would have been utterly deafening if it weren't for his own racing thoughts and his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Brody's hurt.

My baby is hurt.

Is he even still alive?

What happened to him?

Where is McKenna? Have they told her yet?

"Sir." The Peacekeeper's tone was painful in its gentleness. "If you'll come with me, there's a spot on the hovercraft for you to take you to your son."

Nolan only had the presence of mind to nod numbly, following the Peacekeeper's brisk, deliberate strides out of the tunnel and into the blinding light of day. It seemed unbearably inappropriate that the sun was out when already it felt like Nolan's world was crashing down around him at the possibility that his son could be dying (or worse, the man had used past-tense to refer to his parents as his next of kin). The birds, at least, were silent.

He had never seen the inside of a hovercraft, but for the moment he was in no mood to marvel at anything except how quickly it could take him to his son's side.

It's gonna be okay, Brody. I'll be there soon.