Max shuffled his camp chair closer to the fire. While his face flamed with heat, icicles were forming on his earlobes and even with two layers of shirts, his skin on his back prickled. Worse, since the sun sank, white flakes swirled in the chilly gusts of wind.

Between the sour taste in his mouth from watching Finn and Simon kiss their wives goodbye when he couldn't even hug Sophie and the knowing surety he was a pity invite to this brother bonding trip, Max had had little to say. Either did the brothers apparently and as such the ride up here, the setup of camp and the meal they'd cooked all conspired in a relative cone of silence.

After they'd eaten, Simon insisted they do a round of shots to warm themselves up. After two more rounds, the scotch was replaced with bottles of beer while Finn and Simon covered the roster of NHL teams and their prospects at winning the Stanley Cup in the spring.

"The Leafs have a real chance this year." Simon insisted.

Finn grunted, and Max took a long drag. Even though he grew up in a small town where there wasn't much to do on a Saturday night except go to a friend's house to watch a game as an excuse to steal alcohol from their parent's, Max wasn't a big hockey fan. Baseball had been his thing since he first held a bat.

"This guy wouldn't shut up about them as a kid." Simon swung the end of his beer bottle in Finn's direction. "Don't tell me you've given up on your team."

Max knew Finn hadn't. In their downtime, on board a ship or back at base, Finn watched recorded games when he couldn't catch them live, avoiding the scores. One of the few ways Max could tease Finn was by pretending to know the outcomes already, aggravating Finn to no end.

"I'm not a kid." Finn's complaint came out slow and exaggerated. Despite the cold, the alcohol must be hitting his friend too. The flames of the fire lapped a little slower, and the world looked a little fuzzy around the edges.

"No. You're about to have one instead." Simon chuckled until he caught the grimace on Finn's face. Simon took another sip. "Always pensive as a kid, too," he muttered.

"Does Buffalo have a baseball team?" Max knew they didn't, but needed to divert this conversation to a safety zone.

Simon's face pinched as if he'd eaten a lemon. "The Buffalo Bisons. But they're a minor league team."

"I have a lot going on." Finn spat the words across the fire at his brother.

Simon stuck his tongue out, catching a snowflake. "Could've fooled me."

"What would you know about it?"

Max cracked his neck, trying to relieve the pressure gathering there. "We painted the baby's room yesterday."

As if Max didn't exist, Simon continued his attack. "I hear you spend hours in your study."

Like a commanding officer had just entered the room, Finn sat up straight. "Let me guess, your nosey, know-it-all wife told you."

Simon matched his brother's stance. "At least I talk to my wife."

"Can you even get a word in edge wise?"

"Who wants another beer?" Max stood, the world tilting on its axis.

"Me." Both brothers shouted at the same time.

A temporary calm settled over the trio as Max stumbled to the cooler packed with beer and ice. His fingers screamed as they plunged into the chilled water and retrieved 3 bottles. Shoving them into the crook of his arm, he picked his way back to the fire and handed each brother a beer. A chorus of fizzes broke the silence as each man twisted off the bottlecap.

"Is this about the Navy?" Both men turned to Simon. "You miss... the life."

Max froze. He'd wondered this as well, but could never work up the nerve to ask. After his next tour, Max had to decide to re-up for another seven years or leave the only life he really knew. Finn's situation was different. He'd left because of Emily and Max didn't have anyone asking him to not sign on for more active duty. Still, it had been over a year and even without money as a factor, Finn didn't seem happy.

"Yes." Finn brought the bottle to his lips, then dropped it again. "And no."

"Is that what's causing this depression?" Max gawked at Simon. The man had walked around his brother like he was a ticking time bomb, yet tonight he wasn't holding back on asking the bold questions.

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Max held his breath. Would Finn admit to his brother Max caused the anguish? That Finn felt responsible for Bug's death because Max had pleaded and cajoled his commander to get Bug on that flight. Initially Finn had denied the request, ordering Max to figure out his emotional issues with his girlfriend on his own time. The Navy, and especially a prisoner transfer off a carrier ship, was not a tool to be used to apologize for a lover's spat or fix a relationship. Max had been resilient, desperate to patch things up with Bug, convinced if he didn't act immediately, she might never take him back and called in every favour he was owed. After promising to do all the grunt work for a month, Finn had relented.

Although Finn had nothing to do with the helicopter's malfunction and the resulting crash, he took the loss of someone under his command, like the loss of a family member. Convinced Finn had already decided to leave the Navy over the incident, Max considered Emily was only the excuse he needed. Finn was proud of the work he did, the things he achieved and could have been on track to be an Admiral one day had Max's actions not pushed him in another direction.

Finn stared into the fire like the flames were hypnotizing, the bottle of beer limp in his hand. "You wouldn't understand."

"I do." The words wheezed out of Max. This conversation was long overdue. He sucked air, the cold hitting the bottom of his lungs. "It's my fault."

"It's Emily." Finn's voice wavered as he squeezed his eyelids shut. "It's always about Emily."

That can't be right? Max shook his head as if to clear away the words he must have misheard. Max was the root cause of the problem. Not Emily. "You can't be worried about Emily. She loves you."

In the past, when Emily came up, Finn's reaction was swift. Before they reunited, he'd been quick to change the subject or fly into a rage. After they found each other, each mention was met with a hint of a smile, eventually turning into bouts of joy. This was not right.

Max glared at Simon, expecting the man to speak up. Finn's brother stared at the ground, unmoving. Fury sizzled up Max's spine. He ignored the coward and searched for something to say. "You'd think waiting for eight years for you would prove that."

Finn pressed his palm against his chest. "That's just it. She waited eight years. Eight years. For me. But I'm not me."

"What?"

"I'm not the man she fell in love with. Not eighteen and naïve. I've seen things. Done things." Light from the fire reflected in Finn's dark pupils. "You know."

The moisture in Max's throat evaporated as memories of the arid town in Conbadar assaulted the air between them, like the gunfire they'd exchanged with the enemy. He shivered, not from the cold here in this camp near Bridgetown, but from the adrenaline dip he experienced on the other side of the world. After three nights of hiding and evading capture, they'd had to force their way through the town to regroup with the evacuation team, prioritizing their lives over those that got in their way. Finn had taken two bullets in his shoulder, Campbell suffered from a broken wrist, and Max had to live with the blood of an innocent villager on his hands.

Finn's fingers flexed on the fleece of his jacket. "She loved that guiltless man and it's not me."

"She told you this?"

"Not yet."

"What did she say when you...explained about being in the Navy?" Max pushed past the stone stuck in his esophagus. "The things that happened."

"I haven't."

The rocks churning in Max's stomach tumbled to a halt, irritation setting in. "Don't you think she deserves the chance to love the real you? All of you."

"What if I'm not worthy?" Finn mumbled into his chest.

Simon's head snapped up. "Then you aren't meant to be together."

"Don't say that." Finn's shout caused Max to flinch.

His brother, however, stayed as still as a stone. "I'm not saying it. You are implying it. That she can't be trusted with your love."

If looks could murder, Simon was in danger as Finn glared him down. "I trust her with my life."

Tension rolled underneath Max's shoulder blades, the unfamiliar feeling of agreeing with Simon spiking in his gut like a harpoon. The man was saying things, hard things, Finn needed to hear. "Then don't you owe her the right to love all of you?"

"What if I fail?" Finn slumped back in his chair.

"Don't think you can fail at loving someone." In fact, Max found it the easiest thing he'd ever done. Falling in love with Sophie might also be the stupidest move he'd made in his twenty-four years, but it was so easily done, he hadn't had a choice.

"I... I try. I... want to tell her. But it's all stuck up in here." Finn tapped the side of his head with his index finger. "If I make a mistake..."

"Emily—"

"No." Finn interrupted Max. "As a father. To our child. What if I can't do it?"

Max took a sip of his beer, trying to grapple with the concept his friend feared. This man led his teams through successful combat missions time after time, protected his crew against strife and politics, held Max, an unconscious Bug, the helicopter pilot and him together, bobbing in the endless ocean until the rescue team arrived. It seemed impossible that Finn lacked the confidence to raise a child. Max felt out of his depth here, at a loss for how to ease these baseless concerns. "You can."

Silence reigned as all three men stared at the fire that cracked and hissed. Spots of white flew in the wind, evaporating as they neared the flames and collecting on the wool hat covering Finn's head. "I didn't have a father. I won't know what to do."

Max huffed. "I have a father and I wouldn't know what to do."

Simon slid forward in his seat, resting a hand on Finn's kneecap. "I didn't have much time with dad either." His fingers dug into Finn's jeans. "You have me."

The jealousy that flamed in Max's chest when Simon flaunted his connection to Finn didn't flare this time. Instead, a calm settled over him as the two brothers stared at each other for a long beat. In a few weeks, Max had to return to active duty and Finn needed someone here to rely on. Although he wasn't sure he could trust Simon, Max didn't doubt his earnest enthusiasm could almost taste it.

Simon released his grip. "We'll figure it out together."

"Aren't you scared?" Max could barely hear Finn over the spits and sparks of the fire.

"Shitless." Simon grinned. "And Mary knows it. Razzes me every day, tells me she needs a partner, not another baby." Simon swiped snow from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Somehow that makes me feel better."

Finn's eyebrows furrowed. "Really?" Simon shrugged. "But you seem so... calm."

"You avoid the subject." Simon drained the end of his bottle. "It's hard enough to get you to talk to me."

A spotlight filtered over Finn's face, and he held up a hand against the glare. All three men turned to watch the approaching headlights of a car.

"Are you expecting someone?" Finn squinted at his brother.

Simon stood up, swaying slightly. "No. No one knows where here expect Mary and—"

Finn shot out of his seat. "Emily."

Hey there, DL here.

Originally this conversations was planned to happen between Finn and a therapist. While I think the man should definitely talk to someone professional, from a drama perspective, having a semi-drunken confession between the three men felt like more fun.

Plus! I got to hint at even more drama. You didn't think it was going to be smooth sailing from here on did you?

Until next week!