Work Text:
They passed numerous nights in the safe house, cautious and wary for any sign that they had been located and followed, and none came. The silence was pregnant with the anxious question of whether the silence held an enemy in hiding or if they were so far off the grid, they were alone.
The inside of the house was just as tense. While Joe and Booker had come to a cold but bearable cessation of hostilities, there was still heavy strain on the inter-dynamics with daily frequency. In addition, Quynh had erratically swung between withdrawn vacancy and irate agitation that had created a radius of cautious space around her by the others. Overall, the Guard was living in hesitancy around each other.
Nile stood elbow to elbow with Nicky, giggling as they raced to each cut their own pile of vegetables. Nicky’s proficiency came with his centuries of experience and a brief stint as a cook in the seventies, but Nile was game for the competition regardless. She was just groaning good-naturedly in defeat as she added the last of the chopped produce to the vegetable curry as Nicky stirred and added last minute seasonings, when Quynh glided into the kitchen.
Her dark eyes bounced between the two of them, silently observing.
Nile gave her a friendly smile. She’d had little chance to get to know the older woman and knew their lack of familiarity increased awkwardness between them. Quynh rarely interacted with her or Booker and Nile was eager to try and remedy that.
“Hi, Quynh. Dinner is almost ready. Joe just needs to finish setting the table,” she nodded to the dining room where Joe was setting out dishwater and utensils.
Quynh looked between them and then muttered, “I’m not hungry.” She turned and disappeared down the hall, just as Booker and Andy were entering. Booker noted her departure but didn’t pay it too much mind, taking a seat instead and filling his empty glass with his flask. Andy frowned and followed Quynh back to their room. She returned soon after with a solemn frown to her face.
Nile thought about Quynh’s rather prickly reactions yesterday that had set the same look upon Andy’s face. She and Nile had been on call with Copley over a secured line, going over Copley’s leads on who could be pursuing them (his leads amounted to a big fat mystery, much to their joy) when Quynh walked in.
“Nicky made lunch,” she’d snapped irritably before turning on her heel, leaving Nile confused and Andy sighing heavily. At Nile’s questioning glance, Andy shook her head.
“It’s been one of her rougher days,” was all the Scythian had supplied.
Nile shook her head against the thought and started on her vegetable curry as the others joined her. “Is Quynh alright, Andy?” Andy nodded mutely and shrugged ambiguously.
“Just give her space,” Joe answered for her. “When she used to get upset, she’d leave for a few hours until she worked through it and then she’d be back. Leave her be.”
“No worries. I’ll give her a wide berth,” Booker muttered into his soup. The Frenchman was still wary of Quynh after being drowned by her, despite the lack of substantial interaction since then. Joe pointedly ignored Booker and a beat of silence held before Nicky jumped in quietly.
“How is she, Boss?” His voice was gentle, without expectation of an answer.
Andy gave a weak grin that could have also served as a grimace. “Ok, I think? I’m trying to be patient and not push. To give her space.” She nodded to Joe.
Nile frowned in concern. “It’s been months. And I know you guys have known her literally for forever, but is it something someone needs to talk to her about? There reaches a point where ‘giving space’ turns into ‘avoidance’.” Her fingers made air quotes for her comparisons.
Andy looked down the hall to the room she shared with Quynh. “I think we can wait a little longer. If it seems to be getting worse, we can cross that bridge when we get to it.” The rest of the Guard nodded in agreement, not knowing that bridge would come sooner than expected.
In the late hours of the night, Nile awoke to slim hands slithering around her neck in a grasping vice, closing over her windpipe. Dark, empty eyes stared down at her in the faint moonlight that peeked through gaps in the blinds, belonging to the ghostly pale face of Quynh hovering over her. Nile gasped, immediately bucking and rolling to dislodge her, but the other woman held tight, watching with an unhinged glee as Nile struggled to breathe.
Spots appeared in her vision and she felt her limbs go sluggish as she clawed at the hands around her throat. Her head felt like it would bust, like a filled water balloon on a sidewalk. And then Nile died.
When she returned to life, it was to Quynh sitting on her chest, her bony knees restraining the Marine’s hands and holding her head fixed with one hand. A cloth had been stuffed into her mouth and over her nose, maybe the pillowcase, and water was suddenly being poured over her face. She coughed and spluttered in surprise, chest automatically heaving to bring in air before her waterboard training kicked in and she tried to reach for calm when the water would cease and give her a chance to breath.
Except the water continued. On and on and on. And Nile died again.
She gasped to life and violently coughed water from her lungs. Quynh had found materials to tie her hands to the old iron wrought bed frame while she’d been out this time. Nile grimaced, realizing she’d have to call for someone in the house now that she was well and truly restrained.
“You don’t get to have them. They’re mine. You can’t take them from me,” Quynh was muttering, almost to herself as she hovered over her.
“Wha-?” Nile gargled out. The wet cloth was snatched from her face and Quynh snarled above her.
“Nicky is mine. Joe is mine. Andromache is mine! Why do you get to have them?” The last part was whispered with such sadness that Nile felt her heart wrench, despite the current circumstances.
“They’re not mine, Quynh.”
“Yes, they are!” Quynh snapped back. “I saw you cooking with Nicky! He used to do that with me! I saw Joe braiding your hair! He used to brush mine for me! Andy trusted me! Confided in me! Why do you get that too?! She promised it would be her and I! Not you!”
Nile’s mind raced with her time spent with the the others. She did help cook meals with Nicky, playing sous chef for him because she loved to be helpful and it reminded her of cooking with her mother at home. Joe was always helping her with her hair, most recently having sat on the couch with her between his knees as he tried triangle box braiding with beads in her hair. It was too difficult to do by herself and she felt cared for and understood when Joe helped her. And Andy. Nile was grateful that she had Andy to guide her through this new life. She imagined if she’d had an older sister, much older, this is what it would have been like: someone to teach you and guide you and enjoy being with.
Nile gritted her teeth, waiting for Quynh to sit up just a bit straighter. Once she did, Nile levered her legs up and around to the front of the older woman’s chest and then pulled with all of her might, probably pulling a hamstring muscle in the process. Quynh shrieked angrily, fighting the hold, and it gave Nile enough time to shout.
“Andy!” She barked.
Seconds later, the others busted into the room, guns drawn, to find Quynh once again trying to drown Nile with what they now saw was a bucket of water.
Joe and Booker immediately went to release Nile’s hands while Nicky and Andy bodily lifted Quynh, kicking and screaming, from the bed.
“What the hell is going on?!” Joe yelled.
“She waterboarded me until I drowned,” Nile growled, still hoarsely coughing on the water she’d aspirated.
Andy’s face turned pale with distress, looking between Quynh and Nile. The Vietnamese woman lunged again.
“Get her out of here,” Booker yelled angrily.
Nicky and Andy dragged Quynh out, leaving the other two men to help Nile sit up. Joe pulled her to the end of the bed where it was drier, while Booker grabbed the bucket and tossed it out of the room.
Nile shivered violently, having always run cold even before getting wet in the middle of winter in Norway. Joe led her to the armchair in the corner and pulled the spare afghan off the back, draping it around her shoulders in a hug.
“Are you alright,” he asked in concern.
Nile nodded, though she was clearly unsettled. Booker briefly left before returning with dry sheets. With quick movements, he began to strip the bed.
“The mattress is soaked,” Joe objected pointedly when Booker shook out a new set of sheets.
Booker rolled his eyes at being told the obvious and reached down to flip the mattress over, giving the other man a pointed look in return.
“She said that I shouldn’t get to have you and Nicky and Andy,” Nile said, rubbing a hand over her forehead, ignoring the byplay between the men.
Booker looked up from laying the sheets, complete with hospital corners. “She’s not okay. Not at all.”
Joe frowned. “The Quynh we knew was a happy and loving person. She was fierce and dauntless, but never cruel. Not like this.”
“No one would be the same after decades of drowning in an iron coffin, as you’ve said before, Joe,” Nile answered shakily.
The bedroom door opened, Nicky and Andy entering with troubled looks on their faces.
“I’m sorry, Nile. I know she wasn’t alright, but didn’t think she’d-” Andy broke off, hands on her hips in frustration.
Booker raised a blond brow. “You’re surprised? Nile isn’t the first person she’s drowned,” he reminded them, pointing to himself.
Andy sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to gather herself. “You’re right, Book. I’d been hoping that being with us would help…but…maybe not.” When she raised her head, her mouth was set in an unhappy line. “I will take her and leave until it’s safe for her to be with us.”
Nile sat up straighter. “No. You said it yourself. We need to stay together. We may still have people after us and we have no idea who or where or why.”
“She killed you, Nile,” Andy returned in frustration. “Drowned you because she was angry and jealous and felt alone. She told me why she did it! She can’t handle her emotions properly right now. It’s not safe.”
“Being with immortals is the safest place for her right now. She can’t permanently kill me,” Nile argued as she stood, unwilling to argue a point while seated.
“How is that fair to you, Nile? To any of you?!” the Scythian barked. “I’m not going to put you all through this.”
“I’d say it’s my choice, isn’t it? Our choices? Not just yours, Andy.” Nile watched Andy’s eyes spark with anger and realized the reason for it. She lowered her voice. “You don’t have to feel guilt over her actions, Andy. I know she isn’t completely well yet. And I will not reject her. I refuse to put you in a position where you ache to choose between people you love.”
Andy wilted imperceptibly at the words. “I just don’t know what to do. I made the decision to bring her with us and she is hurting you. I don’t want her to leave, though. And I don’t know how to help her so she can stay.”
Joe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s probably our fault too. Nile may have been right. We’ve been trying to give her space, and most likely made her feel more alone in doing so.”
“We don’t have to figure it all out right now, Andy.” Nile reminded her.
“Let’s figure this out in the morning,” Nicky agreed. “Joe and I will stay with Nile tonight.”
Andy nodded. “I will watch Quynh tonight, though I think she’s done.”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Booker muttered heavily, stalking out of the room.
Andy returned a now subdued and empty looking Quynh. Once Nile was dried and changed, she piled back into bed with Joe and Nicky bracing her on each side reassuringly. The night’s remaining hours thankfully passed without incident.
The next morning was colder in more than just temperature. Conversation was stilted and fell flat soon after it was attempted. Nicky cooked, but Joe helped him instead. Nile saw the seat next to Andy’s other side, but turned and took the empty one across the way, next to Booker. Quynh didn’t eat. Nile hated feeling like she couldn’t interact normally with the others for fear of how Quynh would respond. Day after day passed in this manner until Nile reached her limit.
“Let me talk to her,” she said firmly to Andy. The other woman seemed wary of the idea, but nodded warily. Nile nodded in return and headed into the room where Quynh was running through sword drills with her Kiem. With the metal arcing with deadly speed through the air, Nile was suddenly bemoaned her timing. Though upon seeing her, Quynh lowered the weapon and set it down on a nearby table with deliberate slowness.
“Can we talk?” Nile asked gently.
Quynh hesitated for a moment before nodding once. Nile approached but kept some distance between them, wanting to give the other woman space to feel comfortable. They stared at each other, assessing, before Nile felt comfortable speaking.
“I’m not your replacement, Quynh.”
No response.
“I’m not,” Nile assured. Quynh only looked at her, doubt clear in her eyes. Nile frowned, trying to put everything in a way that would take. The hardest thing to do was convince someone of something they refused to believe in. Nile prayed for the right words.
“Quynh. There is enough room for both of us. Andy can hold you in her heart and her arms and I can still be her friend. Joe can have twice the number of sisters to spoil and protect. Nicky has enough quiet moments for me and for you. Our family has room for both of us.” A cloud cleared from Quynh’s eyes at those words, and she blinked rapidly as if processing the words. Nile relaxed. “Love is not something that is used up. It is something that grows exponentially with each moment it is shared.”
“There’s room for both of us,” the other woman repeated, almost dazed as it clicked in realization.
“I have room for you, too, if you give me a chance, Quynh.” Nile added hopefully. If Quynh had been feeling lonely and left out, she needed to know that she was wanted and invited. Though only in this family would it be as extreme as offering friendship to a person who killed you. Their lives were in no way boring.
The older woman paused, before giving a small smile. “You are good for this family, Nile.”
“And our family is no good without you in it,” she returned with assurance.
Quynh’s shoulders hunched forward. “I do not know about that, but thank you. I-I’m sorry I killed you last night. I just started feeling so much…like I was being left behind. I don’t know what to do.” Her eyes suddenly glimmered with tears, a display of emotion that shocked Nile, having only seen aggressiveness or apathy from the woman. Hesitantly, she reached out and gently took Quynh’s hand, assured when the other woman grasped her hand back with a desperate grip.
“You have been through something none of us can fathom. It’s okay to feel angry and confused and hurt. I imagine it didn’t help that the others are trying to give you space and it turned out to feel like they were avoiding you.” Nile offered as a way of explanation. A case of good intentions mistaken for something entirely different.
“They were trying to help me?”
Nile gave a rueful smile. “Yes, though it had a rather unfortunate and opposite effect on you. You might want to let them know what you need in order for them to do it right.”
“I think,” Quynh answered slowly, “that is a good idea.”
Nile hesitated before saying carefully: “In addition, something that I think would help is talking to someone about everything you are feeling.”
“I talk to Andromache.”
Nile nodded. “Yes, you do. And that is great. But there are people who have learned how to help sort through emotions and troubles. They are specially trained to help. I saw one for many years and it helped me to work through the anger and the guilt and shame I felt over many things. Helped me release some of the pressure I couldn’t hold in.”
Quynh cocked an eyebrow at her. “I can talk to someone else about all this? A stranger?”
“I am sure we can have Copley help us arrange something and help you construct a narrative that does not endanger us. I think it’s worth exploring so that you can begin to feel better.” Frankly, she thought the entire team could use therapy and absently wondered how Copley would set that up if she asked. She’d participated in therapy when she was younger and knew how much it would help, despite the centuries of experience the immortals all had put together. Centuries of life didn’t mean that one couldn’t experience triggers or PTSD. Psychology and therapy had come a long way and Nile wanted to see this new family of hers find healing in all the ways they could.
Quynh brushed a hand over her eyes and gave a nod. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” Nile grinned. “Now, I can leave you to your sword practicing or I can teach you how to play a rather fun card game involving spoons and an occasional bout of violence. We can get the others to play.”
Quynh broke into a smile, a genuine one that echoed happily between them. “I’d really like that.”