You had been a part of the ground crew when it came to the Airforce, more specifically the 100th Bomb Group. Having been a flight engineer, it was your job to maintain the aircraft engines during and after their flights. Which meant doctoring them up after missions and fixing them when they were completely wrecked, damaged to the core.

“You good up there?” I call up towards you, my broad Arkansas accent rolling off my tongue as I watched you tinker with a damaged wing that was jagged and torn at the edges, high off the ground.

Though before you could yell down an answer, you take too big of a step backwards, your boot sliding off of the aircraft’s wing, plummeting you towards the ground.

Strong arms wrap around your body in a millisecond, catching you from your fall. “I got you.”