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"Booker, you need to sleep. You've been staring at that satellite feed for hours."
Booker shrugs Joe's hand off of his shoulder.
"This is a new source. I have more water to cover," Booker says, marking a potential point of interest. "I can't stop now."
"Book," Andy says quietly. "You're no good to her if you're so tired you can't see."
"I can't stop." Booker looks up at Andy with itchy, tired eyes. "Please, don't make me stop."
It's hard to see the pity and exhaustion in Andy's face. It's even harder to see the understanding and resignation.
"Okay. Okay, Book." Andy sighs. "Try and rest at some point."
Nile's plane went down three weeks ago. He can't stop looking now.
Hours later, Booker is so tired he can't keep his head up, his eyes burning from how long he's been staring at a computer. He ends up asleep on the laptop, pen pressing into his cheek.
...
Copley turns up on the doorstep of the Oslo house unannounced, two months after Nile's plane goes down.
"You bring news, I assume?" Andy asks, sitting up from her stretch on the living room floor.
"They found pieces of the plane," Copley says bluntly.
"Why do you not sound more pleased?" Nicky asks.
Booker doesn't have to ask.
"They only found evidence of the pilot and co-pilot in the wreckage," Copley says, pulling up the report. "No sign of Nile."
"Send me the coordinates. I can narrow my search further, pull more detailed data from a smaller field." Booker pulls up his map of the projected flight path and narrows the range. "If she isn't in the wreckage, she isn't trapped. She must have gotten to land."
No one else is saying anything. Booker can't stop talking, can't stop searching, can't stop to think about what happens next if Nile is trapped on the floor of the Pacific Ocean.
He has to keep looking, or he's going to fall apart.
"Thank you, Copley," Joe says finally. "We appreciate the update."
"I will keep looking through my channels. I know Booker will keep looking as well." Copley's smile is tight. "Maybe we will be able to put boots on the ground at some point."
"You are welcome to the spa- to Nile's room," Nicky suggests.
If Booker grinds his teeth any harder, he'll have to grow new ones.
It's not a fucking spare room. Nile is somewhere in the goddamn Pacific right now, but it's still her space.
"You know he doesn't mean anything by it," Andy says later. "Force of habit. We're searching too, you know. We miss her too."
"I know."
...
Booker doesn't know why he keeps paying for Nile's last burner phone. Doesn't know why he pings it daily like the phone isn't waterlogged on the bottom of the ocean. Doesn't know why he keeps fucking calling.
"You know what to do at the beep."
Booker hangs up. Dials again.
"You know what to do at the beep."
Again.
"You know what to do at the beep."
It's short, cheesy. It's one of the few audio clips they have of her. The downside of living in the shadows is lack of proof you exist.
Booker has a few Polaroids from their last family trip to the beach. Andy is covered in Zinc, and Quyhn's cover up is around both of them. Joe and Nicky look obnoxiously Eurotrash in their speedos. Nile looks so goddamn happy in her gigantic sunhat.
"You know what to do at the beep."
Booker cracks. To be honest, he's amazed that he made it three months without drinking himself into a coma.
He wakes to Joe gently wiping his face with a washcloth.
"Shh, habibi, you're okay."
"What if she’s gone, Joe? What if she’s gone and I never told her?"
It’s Quyhn who answers him, “She loves you. I know you two haven’t talked about it, but she loves you. Don’t you dare give up on her.”
"I won't," Booker promises. "I'll find her. Whatever it takes."
"Besides," Andy says from the doorway, voice rough. "She's too new. She's out there, somewhere."
“We don’t know how any of this works, not really,” he can’t look any of them in the eye, makes no attempt to hide the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Joe dabs at his face, and Nicky brings him water.
"Some things you just feel," Andy says firmly. "She's out there. I know it."
...
Booker has been staring at satellite footage of tiny islands in the Pacific for what feels like years when Copley comes bursting in.
They both set up shop on Java when the search for Nile entered its seventh week.
"I think I found her," Copley spits out, waving a piece of paper. "That, or someone else in trouble. Either way, time to pack and call Andy."
Booker takes the paper. Scribbled on it are a set of coordinates and a mess of Morse code.
"SOS 1812? That's really what came in?"
"The signal is bad, and it was brief, but they sent it three or four times before the signal cut out. It sounded like a makeshift device." James takes the paper and tosses Booker his go-bag. "Get in the goddamn car."
When they get to the closest airport to the microscopic island the signal came from, the rest of the team is waiting near the helicopter.
"I told you," Quyhn says with a smug smile.
Booker can't find it in himself to begrudge her the gloating, not when they have their best lead in three months in front of them.
Not when Nile might be less than an hour away.
...
They exit the helicopter on high alert, guns drawn in case the uninhabited island is actually more settled than they realized.
Booker has stared at the few images he could find for hours now. This little crescent-moon slip of land is in a fucking satellite blind spot.
The remnants of what might have been a driftwood SOS are the first sign that someone is here. It also shows that there's been a storm recently.
"There's a small crater lake that probably has fresh water," Booker says, scanning the beach. "If someone is here, they would find it."
"We'll head there first, then." Andy takes one look at him and steps back. "Lead the way."
The hike is tense, guns pointed in every possible direction with every step.
There's some sort of perimeter around the clearing, purposefully placed branches driven into the earth.
All Booker can think is "Please be Nile, please be Nile, please."
There's a shelter against the rock face, a campfire burning in a circle of stones.
"Show yourself," Booker orders, heart in his throat.
"It's about fucking time you got here."
Booker almost passes out when Nile emerges from a cave beyond the lean-to. She's thin, the kind of emaciation that comes with starving to death.
"What? Y'all don't look happy to see me."
A sob rips out of Booker's throat, and his brain shuts down. When he blinks, he has his arms around a too-frail Nile, holding her so tight she might break.
Nile crumples into his embrace. She cries until she can't cry anymore.
"I'm sorry," Booker says over and over again. "I'm sorry we took so long. I'm sorry I couldn't find you faster. I'm so fucking sorry, Nile."
"Shut up and hold me," Nile orders.
Booker can do that.
...
Booker can't relax, not until Nile looks less like death.
All the hours he put into looking for her are now spent taking care of her.
Even for an immortal, repeatedly drowning, dying of dehydration, and starving will lead to complications.
Nile wakes screaming more often than not, so Booker takes up vigil outside her door.
Nile has food trauma, so Booker helps her regulate her intake. He also brings back brownies from the bakery she likes whenever he goes out.
When Nicky gives her the all-clear, Booker is the one who helps her train.
"Stop pulling your fucking punches, Book." Nile runs a hand over her buzzed head. "Try and fucking hit me like you mean it."
Booker can't help it. He's trying not to baby her, but he can't bring himself to fight full-out.
"Just fucking fight me!" Nile shoves his shoulders, and Booker barely manages to not fall on his ass. "I'm fine, Booker. I'm fucking fine, just fucking spar with me!
Booker holds his ground until Nile sweeps his ankle out from under him and drops him to the mat. She pins him with her knee between his thighs and her hands on his wrists.
Booker stops breathing.
"Why won't you hit me?" Nile squeezes his wrists.
"I love you too much to hurt you," Booker says before he registers the thought.
Nile's fond exasperation is replaced with even fonder affection.
"You're an idiot." She kisses him, and Booker has never been happier. "I love you, too."
Booker tests her hold on him, shivering when he can't comfortably move.
"I thought I lost you without telling you," Booker admits. "I thought -"
"I'm right here, Book." Nile kisses him again. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."
"No more solo missions." Booker leans up as much as he can for another kiss.
"Agreed."