Chapter Text
That fucking cube is sitting on the deck of the Valkyrie like it isn't the reason Dan's here alone, at the end. He thinks of kicking the damn thing, but what happened to Schmidt is reason enough to leave it where it is. He slides into the pilot's chair and programs the radio for the Fortress. He hopes the Howlies have the place locked down by now.
Sure enough, he gets a "Morita receiving" in response to his "Lockwood transmitting".
"Heya, Jim," Dan says. He collapses a little, somewhat from relief, mostly from realisation. "Buddy, I don't think I'm coming back from this one."
"Yeah," says Jim. "We figured. Nobody wanted to say it, though. Where are you putting the plane?"
"Sorry, mate," Dan sighs. It's like all the war's worth of hurts are catching up to him at once. Since Halliday fell, it's like he's been running on pure grief, and that's run dry too, now. "We're SOL on that front. All I can tell you is there's a fuckton of ice down there. I'm going to put her down in the water."
"Right, Dan," Jim says, clearly doing his damndest to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. Jim's lost so many friends through this war. Danny's so sorry, but saying it would make it so much worse. "Godspeed and good luck. We'll keep the light on for you."
"Ha! Make sure you give Adolf one in the jaw for me, and one for H- Halliday, yeah?"
"Roger, Cap," Jim says, and the burst of static that follows sounds terribly close to a sob. There's tears in Dan's eyes as well, but not for all the same reasons.
Dan fumbles in his suit pocket for the compass, flicks it open so it'll sit on the console like a proper pilot's sweetheart picture. Halliday, Danny's true North. The little red needle points right to him. Dan kisses the tips of his fingers, brushes them against Halliday's in the newspaper clipping.
"We had the worst damn luck, didn't we, Halliday?" Dan asks the empty air. "God almighty, I miss you so much. It's Sunday again, Haly," he says, jamming the plane controls into a forward dive. The plane starts to tilt and Dan's suddenly just… peaceful.
"Don't worry, Haly," he says, right hand worrying the ring on his chest. There's tears falling upwards from his eyes, now, but they're not sad, or even scared tears. "Halliday, honey, I'll see you soon. I'll be right there, baby. You just gotta wait for me," he says, voice hitching in earnest now. He's gotta say this, get it out before- fuck, the ice is close, now-
"Hey, Halliday, it's Sunday now. I love you. You wanna get married?"