January began with basic sailing practice, getting used to the boat and the men on her. They had been out on the coast for most of the month, the captain trying to get them to communicate and cooperate with each other. And while she was bigger than Moonstone, by a fair bit might he add, Petard was of similar gear works, running on good old steam and sails. So Peter was able to adapt more quickly than the others, most of which were missing their sea legs still. Tommy being one of them, though he good reason. They were out in the cold, choppy waters below them and Tommy was leaned over the side, no doubt vomiting, as he approached.

'Oi Sam, you alright?' He heaved some more before standing, tired blue eyes meeting his.

'Couldn't be better' the reply made him laugh as Tommy moved to throw up the rest of his breakfast over the side of the boat. He could hear Finley snickering at them, it was always Finley. As Tommy straightened out he glared at Finley from across the deck,

'Next time will be on you, Pollock!'

'Didn't you say that about the rope you couldn't, what was it, oh yeah! Tie!' he muttered a quick 'little shit' before legging it across the deck to chase him, they were just school boys if he was honest. The weather was clear though bitter and the men were just getting used to each other, but not everyone.

They had been out for four or five hours when he felt the winds change, there was a storm on her way, he shouted to the watchman but he gave him a doubtful expression before rolling his eyes, son of a. He called to the Captain who looked at him with the same disdain. Come on. The clouds had surfaced and if they weren't quick to change her she'd be way off course by the time it got there. Getting stuck in the middle of a storm will be hell with a fresh crew.

They continued on their merry way and Tommy came back over, hair ravaged by the wind, and flustered.

'I swear I'll toss him over board one day'

'You couldn't toss a kettle of fish over board Sam, highly doubt you could throw a man nearly double your size over, but nice try' that got him a punch in the shoulder as the waves got worse, throwing themselves at the boat.

'I swear Pete, you're just as bad as him, what's wrong? You look tense'

'There's a storm coming but they won't listen, the way she's tracked we'll go off course and then end up in the place we don't want to be'.

It began to rain as the clouds approached quickly, the sound of thunder made him cringe and sigh,

'We're all gonna die'

Tommy laughed before smiling at him with a large grin,

'Well might as well make it last, let's teach 'em how to sail properly' The storm threw all the crew off, causing chaos everywhere. Men scrambled to pull the masts properly and the lights were going crazy. Red to green, green to red and back. The hell was their watchman doing? Finley and Fredrick moved to them and they decided to bolt the guns properly, locking them in so they wouldn't damage anything before he decided this shit was out of control.

'You keep them grounded, pull the mast half way, I'm going to sort this bugger of a watchman out!' The waves were horrid and everyone was soaked, he ignored the flashes of orange in the back of his eyes. Walking in a switched diagonal he made it to the small stairs as hail began thundering down, chaos still reigns down below.

He stalked up the steps quickly, the watchman clearly off his face and slurred as he looked at him.

'Watcha doin' laddy?! Get-get back down 'here'

'Move out of my way you toper and sit down there' he pushed him into the cruddy steel chair and moved to pull the light to green, they needed to move to the stern. The man mumbled some more and he pushed the bottle of beer out of his way as he ran back down, the madness was still there, though there was less of it. He shouted out to people to pull her to the stern and down. Get her out of the war path of the storm. It was about twenty minutes before it ceased, Petard on the other side of it. Everyone looked drained and soggy, Peter checking to see if the photo was safe and dry, which it somehow pretty much was, and everyone pulled her back to starboard, the sun now back out in the clear sky. He had never seen such idiocy with a boat in his life. And he lived with George. The captain noted his ability to notice the storm and apologised before they continued on.

January left without incident. It was mid-February when everyone had gotten slightly closer, and some bloke decided they should have a fishing contest in the twenty or so that was gathered, including him and the other three. He believed his name was Edward, as short as Tommy and rather loud. He was already excited when he stepped in,

'It's not even fishing season for anything other than haddock, and they don't really like cold water all that much'

'Even more of a challenge mate! Come on, it'll be fun!'

They eventually collectively agreed and since they didn't have any rods, they would have to make their own.

'This is a stupid idea'

'no Fin, I think it's a bloody stupid idea'

Finley and Fredrick bickered about how stupid it really was and they spilt into about four or so teams, the four of them making one.

'Well I guess that bloke is right, we can win this, we have Pete after all'

'Yeah well, I'm not very good at making the rod so much as I can use the damn thing'.

They had scurried around for some spare things while Petard was stationed motionless in the water. Finley managed to find some thin line and had plenty of it and some dried worms left over, gods knows where he got them from, while Tommy found some spare railing, thin and long enough, and Fredrick found some string. He managed to grab a small piece of metal they could bend into a hook.

The making of it was easier said than done, the other groups seemed to be struggling just as much, and they were sat on the deck, the unmade rod in the middle of them.

'Look it's not hard, just, Finley you focus on the line and we'll do the hook and- ugh! I don't know!'

'Here give it here mate, I got it' Fredrick moved to the rod and pulled the string around and tied it over the nooks Peter had indented before pulling the line through it.

'See? One part down, some more to go- here Pete you make the hook, we've got the handle' He moved to the line and grabbed the small piece of metal, bending it softly until it was hook shaped, then placed a worm over it, hoping it would be sharp enough to pierce.

The handle was crudely made but would work and Tommy set the line on it, the rod was finally ready. Eventually, the other teams were done and they threw out their lines. They must have waited a leat half an hour before they and another team got a line, the rope screeching as they moved to handle it, Him and Fredrick on the chase. He had his hand on the line and was moving the handle to reel it in, Fredrick keeping it steady. He fondly remembered the burning in his palm from the line, he really did miss fishing.

'Alright, easy does it, don't let her loose. Good- there, we got her!' They moved and reeled it in, a haddock coming over the rails and flailing on the deck. Other blokes cheered them on and the group groaned and booed as their line snapped, fish back in the ocean. Tommy looked away as Fredrick moved to kill it, bashing its head under a nearby crate until the blood covered his hands, their kill sat proudly on the deck, everyone else was just as ecstatic. Despite it being one of the smallest haddock he'd ever caught. The captain came to clear the rabble away and told them to clean up, before tossing the dead fish into the water, now was no time for such luxury activities apparently. Fredrick move to clean up and they went to have dinner, some blokes mentioning they could've eaten that fish, anything was better than the ship's food.

March rolled around and they were out on the waters, slowly making their way up the south coast, everyone almost familiar with each other and their duties. The day was mostly clear, a few white chemical whirls of clouds in the sky, whimsically passing them by. The sun was out, casting a familiar glow on the boat, Moonstone would always have a similar glow to her, orange cascading along her white skin. It had been over a year since he sailed her, heck even got on her and he hoped that she was doing well. He was out on the deck, arms on the railing and looking out to the wide sea. He still felt guilty from when they left the base, he stopped writing to them before he left. Tommy had sent one last one but he didn't have the guts. What would he have said anyway? It was better he just came home instead of making things more complicated. However he refused to let them get the same letter but about him, not James, he wasn't going to let that happen. He still had wings to hover with, James had lost all his in foolery. He wouldn't make the same choice. The same mistake.

Lunch hit and he didn't bother going, hunger not being an incentive enough, someone else had the same idea though, and he heard gruff talking from around the side of the watchman's area. The smaller voice was all but familiar.

'I know you, you should be long fucking dead. You were supposed to die out there, how are you here?'

'I, I don't know what you're talking about'.

It was Tommy and some other bloke that was probably bigger than Peter and Finley combined. And they had a fair bit of muscle on them. He straightened up before moving to the other side of the wall, listening in. If there was someone from Tommy's old regiment on the boat it spelt bad news for them, how on earth did that even happen?

'Your name?'

'Sam, Sam Thomas I don't- what?'

'Don't lie, I'd recognise your small ass anywhere, what happened to us huh? The fake identity? Come one Benson, step it up' there was more scuffling and he felt he needed to step in, but Tommy could handle this better than him, right? He'd be able to keep up the facade a little longer,

'Fuck off Cook, Shouldn't you be in a fucking ditch or forest by now?'

What the hell Tommy?

'I should be saying the same to you, traitor, what worth do you have here, in my memory you left us. We don't like traitors in the country, you should know'.

He moved slightly to peer behind the wall.

'Not my fault you were so fucking stupid, I tried to help you- you decided to stay there in that shit hole',

Tommy was shrunk up against the wall, this other 'Cook' guy dominating his space at least twice, the guy was practically huge. His eyes were covered in anger, Tommy's were laced in secret fear.

'Yeah we did, we did our fucking country a service you-!' he moved even closer, hands practically bending the metal under them 'decided to bloody run like a coward! Along with those french pieces of shit, how's that tail between your legs doing?'

It was like watching a losing battle, he could go grab Finley and they could probably take the guy on, but that would mean leaving Tommy with the bastard and that was probably a bad idea. He moved out of the corner and into their sights, Tommy looking slightly relieved.

'The fuck are you?'

'Does it matter, back off. You're getting your stupidity on the deck and it's going to stain'. Not his best but it would do, anything to get his attention. He got visibly tenser before smashing the space above Tommy's head who flinched and ducked.

'You with the traitor?'

'And if I am?'.

He moved off of Tommy and faced him fully, he could maybe hold his own against this guy. Maybe.

'You're fresh blood right? Don't know what sods like me have been through, shit in the Ardennes was bad enough as it is, then this little shit-' He moved to punch at Tommy again who managed to dodge,

'And his little merry band of men scurried off, leaving us to burn in the woods'.

'We left because we would've died anyway, Nathan! Hell, I nearly did at least four or five times getting here and all the others are gone, dead on a beach or in the deep'. Tommy was getting more agitated and the whole thing would start getting attention soon.

'You shouldn't have left!'.

'Where else were we supposed to go!? I saved your ass at least twice anyway! You would be shot to shreds by Jerries if it wasn't for us!'.

'Oi you ugly mug, back off of him before we get in a fight'

He turned back to Peter and they squared each other off before he saw stars and was on the floor. The bastard had punched him. Son of a. He was on him just as fast and they wrestled some more and he tried to get his eye sight back, he heard Tommy shout something but he had to deal with the bull currently beating the shit out of him. He was faster than him, eyesight and hearing muddled as he was tossed around. He was crushed against the railing of the boat and then back into the floor before he could actually see, head pounding siren songs in his ears. The guy was on top of him again and had already done a number on his face, moving to grab at his neck. The hands were gripped around his throat like long tendrils of iron hot pain, the air in his lungs not enough. He clawed at the guy's hands but was met with a knee in the gut, holy Mary, and more stars. He was going to die in a bloody fist fight, of all things. The hands ceased and he collapsed on himself, chest heaving molten air. His eyes were screwed shut and his hearing eventually came back around.

'You're going to bloody kill him, Nathan! What the fuck?!'

'He bloody deserved it, get out of my sight traitors, you fuck up around me one more time and you won't be touching English soil as a free man'. There was some movement near him and a foot on his chest, he had to move to make sure he didn't hit his bad rib, the pain making him grunt and flinch before falling back down as the bloke left.

He felt a gentle hand on his chest and arms before he was lifted up and onto something soft, fingers coursing through his hair. There was cloth under his nose and he tried to open his eyes, but could only squint.

'Hey, you still awake? You have a nose bleed. Can I move you? You need to get you to the medical wing, I'm bloody sorry Pete'

His throat hurt but he managed to speak a little,

'Ye-ah, go for it. Not your fault' He was knackered and he wanted to sleep.

'A-alright, here- stay still, I'll get you to the medical bay' he heard some sniffling, was he crying? Before he was lifted and next thing he was in a bed and sleeping, the sheets a welcoming sensation.

The next time he woke up the medic told him he'd been out for a week and a half, waking up occasionally before falling back asleep, it was already April. The other three were sat by him when he did awake, Tommy with guilt written all over his face and the other two smirking.

'Look the knight in shining armour has awoken! Grab the Strongbow, we're gonna get pissed!'

'Calm it, Fred, Pete can barely stand as it is, don't need to add alcohol to the mix!' Fredrick and Finley laughed fondly and he laughed along, Tommy passing him a glass of water. He was already rolling his eyes at the two of them and he had just woken up.

'You alright Pete?'

'Yeah, little achy but I've had worse. At least the bastard won't bother you for a while' The other two didn't question it, apparently being told that he had gotten beaten by some bloke who tried to beat up Tommy, and said Tommy gave him an appreciative smile.

'Thank you'.

And then he was back asleep, uncaring to the rest of the world, he was simply too tired.

When Tommy and he were finally alone in the medical wing a couple days later he decided to ask about the bloke,

'Hey, who is the bloke anyway?' Tommy stilled and looked at him in worry,

'H-him, oh well. He was part of my old- team. In the Ardennes where I was originally stationed, we were left there for dead and had to make our own way out I guess. Nathan was one of the more- dominant ones and believed he could lead us without an officer present'. He moved to get a little more comfortable on the wooden chair.

'There was a point where I saved him from getting shot, not much mind you just pulled him out of the way, and I and some of the others saved him again from also getting shot. Still didn't stop him from being such a dick. The Germans finally rushed us and it was staying or leaving, I chose to leave with some others and we got out. The forest was set on fire where we were stationed, oil leak I think, and they pushed us out. We eventually got to Dunkirk and the rest of my regiment that came with me was shot down. I didn't think Nathan survived but- here we are'

They had been talking for some time and he eventually grew tired, Tommy must have as well as he yawned quietly,

'As long as I don't get too close I should be fine, the times we saved him are probably keeping him from ratting me out. I hope it stays that way honest'.

'You'll be fine, we won't let him get too close'.

And he was fast asleep, another dreamless night.

It took him until mid-April to heal enough to get back to work and until the end of April to become fully healed, the bruises and cuts were long gone, little scars left behind.

He didn't regret any of it.

(AN- so this is all I have for you right now :/ Peter did the stupid again, also a Toper is a drunkard, I might post some more today idk :'DD)