Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Where We Met (Part 1)

Merwin has music playing as he works out. He doesn’t know the music, it’s some of Joey’s, but it helps drown out the noise around him. He can hear footsteps approaching as he finishes a rep, two weights on side of the barbell, because he couldn’t find anything else - assholes keep stealing his gear. Merwin bars the weights before he sits up. Jason is in front of him with some visitors. He recognises the woman immediately, but she makes no move to show she knows him. They’ve done this dance before. 

“I see you, old man. Keep busting out those reps.” Jason jokes.

Merwin remains seated, looking up at his visitors. “Come join me.” He offers. It’s directed at Jason, but the offer is open. “Maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two.” He keeps his voice flat, challenging.

“Later. We have company.”

“Yeah?” Merwin finally looks at Clarice properly. She’s wearing one of her chokers, and a hat - her hair’s purple under there, he knows. Red Doc Martins, they must be new. And her tattoo is on display: two purple roses entwined with thorns. He grins, smearing a dirty leer across his features. “Maybe Missy here would like to watch me get my sweat on, huh?” He readjusts his position and moves back, turning to better face them.

“Wanna spot me, little lady?” He smiles ahead of her answer.

Clarice’s lips twitch up at the corners, but she catches it in time and pulls her smile into a tight line: “I can see you just fine from here, thanks.” They both know they can fit on a bench together pretty fucking comfortably, she doesn’t need to demonstrate. 

“Ignore Corporal Merwin, he lacks social skills.”

“I guess every unit has its resident jackass” says the self-important looking asshole as they walk away, Clarice in tail, looking over her shoulder to wink teasingly. Damn, she looks good from every angle. Merwin leans back down on the bench - maybe he’ll ask her to keep the cap on when they get a little alone time.

Merwin has just enough time to hit the showers and gear up. He sidles into the briefing room and takes a casual lean on one of the card tables next to Joey. He nods slightly to Clarice and she blows a bubble with her gum, locking eyes with him. Merwin rubbed one off in the shower but she’s making him feel like he might need to again. Clarice stands off to the slide alone, Jason is about a metre away, then Joey, then Merwin. But they can still see each other. How long has it been this time? Months? He’s distracted by a projection coming up on the whiteboard being used as a screen.

“The fuck is that? Modern art or something?” Merwin starts the presentation accidentally, critiquing what he’s looking at.

“This is footage from the highly classified Caelus program.” Eric is clearly very proud of what he’s done. So this is what Clarice has been helping with? Architectural plans? She’s so much fucking smarter than that.

“That supposed to mean something to me?” Merwin does not look at Eric as he asks, looking at the ground, feeling like he wants to add some choice words like dickhead or piss-ant.

“It’s a thermal satellite system that I personally pioneered.” Personally? As in on your own??

“Ohhh, well I’m impressed,” Merwin finally looks up, letting all the sarcasm in his voice spill over. “Please, pioneer away.” He motions to Eric to continue then crosses his arms. Joey looks like he wants to laugh.

“You behave like this in all your briefings, Corporal?” Oh no, the man seems butthurt.

Jason, typically, intervenes, “boys are just eager to catch a break sir. No harm meant.” 

“Very well.” Eric seems happy to defuse the situation and press on so Merwin lets the presentation pass without any further snarky comments. Clarice doesn’t look at him again but that’s OK. He’s got plenty to look at to make this bullshit meeting go down easier. But a couple choice words catch his attention: underground facility and weapons. Merwin fist bumps Nick as Jason exclaims “we got you, you sonovabitch!” The atmosphere in the briefing room changes immediately. 

After Eric finishes his explanation, he asks if they have any questions. Merwin does, of course.

“The fuck we waiting for? I’m ready!” It’s not really a question, so much as a show of bravado. 

Jason cuts in though, suggesting air support. Merwin’s too well versed in this shit, with a couple of solid years on the kid. He puts his foot into the conversation, saying “nah, too many birds could bring them down on us. We move fast-in, fast-out.” He’s eager to get the mission over with and celebrate. Clarice better fucking not be coming along on this rollercoaster ride.

Joey slides into his thoughts though, derailing them with a well timed punch line. “That’s pretty much what your momma said to me!”

“Hey, careful, boy!” Merwin laughs. Joey is like the teams little brother, and if anything, Merwin has taken him under the worst wing possible. A lot of Merwin’s personality is a military-born front, some of it came from the way he was raised, and some of it was constructed from the never ending supply of military movies he has watched and continues to watch. Predator was always a favouite. It sort of formed his particular breed of humour: “If I didn’t pull out so fast, I could’ve been your ‘papi’!” This isn’t true, as it would have made Merwin a very young parent, but they high five anyway. Merwin watches Clarice rolling her eyes aggressively enough that they might roll right out of her skull. But she’s heard so many “yo momma” jokes, she’s practically immune.

Jason intervenes again, always the teams steadfast father, “alright, that’s enough, Merwin. Sir, what’s your call?”

It gets a bit tight in the room suddenly. Eric says no air support, Jason disagrees, and Eric overrules him. Rachel tries to push the point, on Jason’s side but Eric agrees with Merwin - no back up birds. You basically need a fishing knife to cut through the tension at this point.

As Eric tries to round off the briefing, Joey nervously says “a lot of shit can go down in 24 hours” but Merwin tells him to quit being a bitch.

“Clarice, help me set up the equipment.”

“I’m on it.”

Merwin walks off, intent on doing a circle of the room and ending up next to Clarice, but Joey follows him, still nervous. He’s got the religious quivering of a Catholic grandmother going on.

“I dunno man, this doesn’t feel right. I’m getting this tingle down the back of my neck,” Joey confesses quietly to him.

“Aw, sweetie, look. A good rubdown will sort that right out, huh?” Merwin mock massages Joey’s shoulder, and then pinches his ass for good measure, but the physical banter falls short of actually helping.

“I’m serious! I’ve got a real bad feeling about this.”

“That’s what you get from spending too much time with Eric,” says Rachel as Merwin moves away, clearly not providing any sort of positive assistance to the situation.

Merwin starts his circuit of the room, eventually approaching Clarice. She’s downloading something. He leans against the table but they don’t look at each other.

“Doc,” he starts.

“Marine,” she answers.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Miss me?” Merwin lets his voice drop real low, the way he knows she likes it. The corners of her mouth twitch up.

“Hmm,” she contemplates, “might have done. Seem to remember you were pretty good in bed. It’s been a while though. Might need a refresher.”

Merwin takes a chance and slides even closer to Clarice, “soon as we get back from this mission,” he’s almost whispering now, cautious of eavesdroppers, “I’m gunna eat you out until you’re dripping for me, and then I’mma fuck you til you can’t walk straight.”

Clarice has gone red around the ears, the smile starting to spread out, “is that a promise?”

Before Merwin can answer, Jason calls out from across the room, “let the good doctor work, Corporal!”

Merwin pushes himself off the table, walking way too closely to Clarice as he wanders off. She presses her ass back into the wandering hand briefly, under the pretext of bending closer to the computer. Merwin smirks as he moves away. 

There are some orphaned equipment cases lying off to the side. Merwin interrupts Rachel and Eric by picking one up and putting it down heavily on a table - too heavily, it seems. 

“Hey! Be careful with that!” Apparently whatever is in the box is more important than Rachel and Eric stalks over to him.

“Aw, shit sorry. What you got in that box of tricks anyway?”

Eric pulls something out of the case that looks like it should be used to direct traffic on a runway.

“The fuck is that?”

“Ultraviolet light. We use it to sweep for explosives.” 

Merwin reaches for it; he’s never held a glowing purple baton before and the D&D nerd buried deep inside of him wants to check it out - “Let me have a go.” He’s a little bit above just plain snatching. 

But, strangely, Eric says no! like a fucking child, and puts it delicately back in its case. He’s done with Merwin, clearly, and turns to his assistant.

“How much longer for that download, Clarice, I need it ASAP” Merwin looks incredulous - how the fuck he gets away with talking to her like that is a mystery.  

“Is five minutes ASAP enough for you?” Clarice sounds annoyed, “downloading data now.” 

“Good. Let me check the satellite maps.” 

“Not the greatest bandwidth”

“We work with what we’ve have.” 

While Clarice keeps working on the data, Merwin moves behind her to look at the climbing gear spread out on another table. Eric appears out of no where. 

“What the hell do we need this crap for? We need to be mobile!”

“We need to be prepared.” Now Eric sounds like a fucking teacher. “The facility is underground, possibly under construction. It’s safer this way.” 

Merwin looks back at Clarice, at her combat vest, and it hits him. He gets in uncomfortably close to Eric, and says real low “you want me to feel safe, you get me some more shooters.” He cannot specify that he does not want Clarice in danger - they have an agreement to keep their relationship secret and he respects her too much to re-neg on that agreement. And every second spent in Eric’s company just enforces why the secret is so important for them to keep.

Eric just glosses over this threat though, moving through the conversation. He’s a weird person to talk to, almost like he isn’t really socially aware. “So you’re my technician? I’ve heard about you.”

“I should fucking hope so. I’m here to keep our gear in check. And if any Iraqi’s pop their heads up, I’ll take ‘em clean fucking off.” Merwin still sounds threatening, but Eric doesn’t rise to it.

“You seem pretty confident Corporal. If you need any assistance with the climbing gear, I’m here to help.”

Eric offers his hand and, slightly confused, Merwin takes it. They shake.

“I’m sure I’ll mange, Colonel.” 

After Eric walks off, Merwin mutters under his breath “climbing gear! Fucking pencil pusher!”

Behind him the computer beeps, and Clarice closes it with a snap, “download’s complete.”

“Let’s get to the helos,” Eric commands, leading the way out.

*

Joey and Merwin gear up together, but Joey is the first to climb into the bird. He sits next to Clarice, who sits across from Jason. Merwin takes a seat at the door, next to Eric, where he can see Clarice’s face.

Joey crosses himself after Jason signs off with base, before turning to his comrade. 

“Hey Merwin. What’s your momma and the Bermuda Triangle have in common?”

“Why don’t you fucking enlighten me?”

Joey grins cheekily, "they both swallow Marines.” God, this kid’s a fucking riot, he’s been taught well. They both laugh.

“That’s pretty good, boy. Hey look, your momma’s so nasty, I called her for phone sex and now I have a fucking ear infection.”

“Well damn, how long you been sitting on that one.”

“Oh yeah, you like that? I got a shit ton more of those bad boys lined up.”

“Yeah, that’s what your momma said.” Kid’s getting good.

Rachel cuts into the banter with a commandingly sharp tongue, “you two wanna cut the bullshit and focus on the mission?”

“Hey! Only one place I let a woman boss me around like that, alright? And that’s between the sheets.” The comment is intended entirely for Clarice - he’d do fucking anything she wanted, but Rachel hits a home run unexpectedly. 

“I’m surprised your mom lets women into your bedroom. Don’t want her getting jealous now.”

Joey says “damn Rachel” and Merwin shoots daggers at him.

“Hey! The fuck y’all laughing at?” His eyes snap forward to Clarice. She isn’t laughing, but she looks like she wants to. That eases his temper a little. If Clarice doesn’t have a problem, then neither does he. 

When Nick and Jason say Semper Fi, Clarice interjects, confused: “Semper Fi?? What’s that, some kinda boys’ scout thing?” Ouch - that’s going to hurt the lads.

Joey answers diplomatically that “it’s a marine thing. It means always loyal.”

“So what, it’s supposed to be lucky?” Clarice looks disbelieving. Merwin hasn’t explained the weird Latin shit they say to her before. 

“Marines have a boat load of superstitions.” Joey confesses.

“Hit me with one,” Clarice says, and Merwin knows she’s heard them before. He listed most of them off when they were wine drunk in a hotel once, naked except for cream-coloured sheets and Clarice’s signature emo jewellery. 

“They say to never look back when you’re disembarking the helo. Otherwise you curse the whole team.”

“That’s gotta be about the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Merwin is pretty sure they covered that one, so it’s the stupidest thing she’s heard again.

“Yeah well, maybe, but as I see it, why take the chance?”

“Eyes forward at all times,” interjects Merwin, “you look backwards in a war zone, it’s no wonder you get your ass shot off!”

The red light goes off on the ceiling of the helo as they approach the LZ and Jason pep talks them. “Amen to that, brother,” agrees Merwin, then he yells, “OORAH!” 

The Marines repeat this sentiment with gusto. 

When they land, masks on, Merwin waves to get Joey’s attention. He points to his eyes, and then backwards. Joey instinctively follows his hand, looking back at the helo. “Why the fuck did you have to go and do that?” Merwin laughs as Joey kisses his cross through the mask, but now they have both looked back. Superstition be dammed - if this mission goes south, well, that just means they get back for a little R&R that much earlier. It also means Clarice doesn’t have to spend too much time in a fucking warzone. 

They keep low and tight, walking towards the buildings - but its just huts and Shepards. Jason barks out orders. Above their heads Rachel is speaking in Arabic and its amplified over the helos loudspeaker as they fan out around the area. The Shepards come out, unarmed with their hands raised. Hand signals order them onto the ground as the Marines make their final approach. Some of the soldiers stay outside with the hostages, while the rest of them enter the first hut. Merwin looks around, then enters last.

They sweep the huts room by room but they’re all clear - Nick approaches Merwin with the order to pop yellow smoke so Eric and Rachel can land. Land for what, he has no idea. Sheep?

They stride over like city folk, and Clarice approaches behind them, Jason next to Eric.

“That went smoothly,” Merwin observes sarcastically, exiting the first building which was, amazingly, still empty. 

“You think?” Bites back Rachel, clearly pissed. Merwin’s never been one to back down from confrontation though.

“Got this place locked down tighter than a virgins-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Corporal.” 

Merwin puts his hands up in mock surrender, but a quick glance at Clarice says he’s gone too far. He drops his hands, wrapping his fingers around his rifle.

“Are they ready for questioning?”

“Yeah, just don’t ask them any tough physics questions.” 

Jason orders Merwin and Nick to keep watch, and then the three superiors enter the hut.

“I dunno about you guys but something doesn’t feel right about this place.” Clarice admits, rolling her shoulders nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” Merwin attempts a cheeky grin, “is that this, uh, women’s intuition I keep hearing about?” They’d had a whole-ass conversation about intuition once. He was well versed in it, even believed women were a little fucking physic. 

“Yeah, you wanna find out what happens when you piss it off?” So, still mad. Merwin mimes cowering and Clarice shoves his shoulder before turning on her heel. 

Merwin waits all of five minutes, then leaves Nick on his own. 

After a casual stroll around the ‘compound’, still finding nothing, Merwin makes his way back to Clarice.

“Not the time, Nate,” she chastises him, but she doesn’t sound angry - just tired.

“Not the place either,” he says, standing next to her and staring off at the middle distance. 

“You still going to keep your promise?”

“I ever let you down before?”

Clarice leans into his shoulder, briefly, then “when’s your next lot of leave?”

“Not for another few months - why - you only here for a sleepover?”

“Something like that.”

They stay silent for a while - it’s pretty fucking obvious this mission was a waste of time. The failure is bothering Clarice, but in full view of everyone there’s not much he can do to comfort her.

“I’m gunna go talk to the boss, see if we can cut the crap. There’s nothing here.”

Clarice hums, “this was a lot of work, Nate, a fucking lot of work. And it got us dick.”

“I know babe. I’m sorry. Live and learn.”

He brushes her shoulder and walks off.

Suddenly, out of goddamn fucking nowhere, an RPG takes out one of the helos - it crashes to the ground, spraying metal and flame in all directions. 

Merwin crosses the ground quickly, aiming for cover, shouting “motherfuckers!” How the fuck did the Iraqi’s know they were here? Once he’s behind something he turns back to check on Clarice - she was smart enough to duck behind something that might have been a wall once and is covering her head screaming “Fuck! Shit! Fucking fuck!” But the spray of bullets is thankfully going right over her.

Merwin circles the area and jumps back behind cover, power sliding in next to Jason. 

He laughs, ridiculously - “that was fucking close! Wooh! What a fucking rush, huh?”

Over the wall he can see their ex-CO and Merwin jumps up to wave to Rachel “back, stay back!” She skips out of sight as he takes up an offensive positioning, shouting FUCK YOU as he shoots.

“Motherfuckers are dug in like ticks,” Merwin observes, but Jason skips over this and says to both Nick and Merwin “they’re closing in, we gotta get to Joey.” Merwin didn’t see Joey get hit, but he can see the kid now, bleeding on the ground. Fucking hell, it had to be him, didn’t it? He considers bringing up the W.P. but there isn’t time, Jason is barking out orders and he’s shooting suppressive fire into the Iraqi ranks. Assholes are everywhere, popping up and down like jack-in-the-boxes. 

Another helo goes down in flames, crashing into the earth with a boom and a rumble.

And then the ground begins to shake.

An earthquake? “No fucking way!” Merwin jumps up and starts running to Clarice, but the ground disappears beneath their feet and they fall, a barbed-wire fence ripping itself free from the foundations and joining them. The next time Merwin opens his eyes, he’s in agony. While it seems Clarice has had a clean fall, Merwin is hanging a few feet above her, and he can feel the fucking wire wrapping around him, digging in, cutting everywhere; blood cascading from him, and it takes him long moments to realise the person screaming is him. His body feels like its on fucking fire as he begs to be let free. 

“Jesus, I’m trying. Will you stop squirming around!” Clarice sounds desperate as she tries to pull Merwin down, but it just digs the wire in deeper, and Merwin screams louder. He can see the tears at the corners of her eyes and wishes he could kiss them away.

Nick and Jason approach them from the darkness but Merwin can barely see or hear them, agony ringing in his ears.

“It’s bad! He’s bleeding out, we have to cut him down right now!”

“Hold tight buddy, we got you.” Says Jason, but it’s so far away. “Nick I need you here.”

Suddenly they all swim into vision below his head. “Cut the wires,” Nick says as he and Clarice support Merwin as best they can. Jason has his combat knife in hand, hacking and slicing, but the pain only increases. It seems to be getting worse by the second. 

Merwin keeps screaming as they pull him loose and he hits the floor, hard. All three of them kneel around him but the fall has at least shocked a bit of sense back into him.

“Oh, he’s fucked, he’s so fucked” says Jason desperately.

“You don’t think I can hear you?” Merwin manages as they inspect him.

“You’re gunna pull through, brother, suck it up.” Very believable. 

Nick yells out “there’s morphine in my pack, grab it !” Before leaning into Merwin. “We’re gunna pump you up, OK?”

“Fuck,” is all he can manage.

Clarice is borderline hysterical now, she yells at them to “hurry the hell up” but Nick just says “we got this, you keep lookout.” He sounds deadly serious and Clarice folds in on herself. 

“Lookout?” Merwin can hear the sudden fear in her voice, “lookout for what?” But after glancing around and seeing nothing, Clarice ignores the order and takes a determined step towards Merwin. 

The darkness snatches her, and she’s gone.

Merwin screams, but agony has fled his voice. Nick holds him as he struggles, trying to get away, to follow. “CLARICE!” He screams again and again, but the darkness doesn’t answer.

“What the fuck just happened” Jason approaches the spot where Clarice stood only a moment ago while Nick struggles to control Merwin.

“The fuck was that… THE FUCK WAS THAT? WHERE IS SHE?!”

But there is no time, the caves are echoing with unearthly screeches. Nick and Jason grab Merwin under the arms and drag him behind them as they run. He screams at them - half in pain, and half in heartbreak. He leaves behind a dangerous trail of blood.

They don’t get far before Nick stops them - “fuck, fuck! He’s bleeding out, we gotta take care of this!”

They pull Merwin against a wall and he doesn’t fight; he’s weak and crying. Nick holds a hand against the wound and Merwin says through gritted teeth “how bad is it?” If he can walk away from this shit, he can go after Clarice.

“You want the good version or the bad version?” Nick responds, but it’s pretty damn clear there is only a bad version.

“Just give it to me straight.”

“Not gunna lie man, it’s pretty fucking bad.” 

So he’s going to die. He’s going to die, and no one is going to go after Clarice. Clarice will die - maybe she is already dead. Merwin starts thrashing again, ignoring the men trying their best to help him - the men he’s grown to call his brothers.

Nick covers Merwin’s mouth to silence him while Jason injects the morphine. Jason warns that Nick is killing Merwin just in time for the Sergeant to let up before Merwin suffocates. 

“I need you with me Nick,” is the last thing Merwin hears before he temporarily blacks out.

When he comes to, they are dragging him, and something is on their tail. 

“I’ll kill ‘em all”, Merwin mumbles as Nick yells “the hell is going on?”

Barely conscious, Merwin cannot hear Jason and Nick properly, but he takes out his pistol anyway. Not much left to live for now.

 “Let me go, listen, you leave me here.”

“Shut up Merwin,” is Nicks clipped response. He doesn’t understand.

“I said leave me! Go! I’ll hold them off!” Anger rises in Merwin but he doesn’t have the strength to back it up.

“Fuck Merwin. Those are not Iraqi’s!” Jason this time.

“Whatever the fuck they are, they’re mine! Go!”

But they refuse. 

“I’m not leaving a man behind, no fucking way!” Jason yells back at him, rage residing in his voice too. 

“Then you die with me” Merwin threatens, but it’s empty.

They drag him on, as he mumbles, losing strength, “should’ve left me, I’d have killed them all.”

“I don’t doubt it, Corporal, but right now we stay tight.” That’s Jason, always defusing the situation.

When they catch up with Eric, Nick canvases the area and wanders over to their superior. Jason stays and Merwin mumbles to him “they’re coming for us, they’re coming” but Jason can’t hear him any better than he can hear anyone else. They drag him to camp, and they lay him down somewhere hidden. He swims in and out of consciousness, shadows dancing in his mind. He sees Clarice die as if it were right in front of him, and dark figures loom over him, reach for him to bring him back to life.

“No, I don’t wanna.” He’s too weak to push them away, tries to reach for his gun instead, “just give it to me” he begs, and then he faints.

*

Jason, Nick and Eric are standing around a radio they have found, their voices loud enough to easily follow - fucking anyone could have found them.

“I don’t trust any of you pussies to do it.” Merwin starts, grinning, walking into their conversation even though he shouldn’t be standing at all. He can’t have them argue with him, he needs to appear normal. There is a cliff edge so, so close. If the blood loss doesn’t kill him, he’ll do it his damn self.

“The fuck, Lazarus, sit your ass down,” says Nick, seemingly pissed at how little Merwin cares about his own health.

“Back from the dead, baby, heh.” Merwin spreads his arms, welcoming himself if they won’t welcome him.

“Corporal Merwin. Probably best you stay here and recover.” Even Jason isn’t buying it, and Jason’s the worst actor Merwin knows.

“Aw, and let you have all the fun? Fuck that! Let me break this down for you, Barney style. I’m the only one here who’s a mechanic. Now that’s what you call a no-fucking-brainer.” He points aggressively to underline this statement.

“He’s got a point” says Eric as Merwin looks at the radio, ignoring their judgement.

Everyone just sort of idles as Merwin works, unsure of what to do. Merwin feels dizzy as fuck, can barely keep himself standing, and has to lean against the table every now and then to stop himself from keeling over. At the worst possible time, the radio starts screaming and Merwin works faster instinctively. 

“Shut it up!” Jason orders, panicking. 

Merwin pulls back, arms up in surrender, looking around for the source of the beastly noises. Another out?

Everyone around him goes into tactical mode and Merwin starts working again. He’s unarmed and stands no fucking chance if they are attacked, but he cares about these two idiots (Eric less, but it’s a package deal). If he can help them before he shuffles off this mortal coil, maybe they’ll let him follow Clarice into Heaven. Joey too. 

“You wanna hurry the fuck up? We don’t have much time!”

“And there I thought I could take a Sunday morning stroll. You know, take in the view.” The heated atmosphere isn’t helping, his head is really spinning now.

“Find me two minutes!” Merwin demands as his legs start to lose feeling.

“Two minutes, you hoping to do it twice?” Quips Jason - and that’s a great note to go out on.

“Score one for the Lieutenant.” 

Jason orders Eric to leave, go and do something a little more suited to him, and moments later Merwin gets the radio operational - and even he’s a little surprised. He tunes it and a signal comes through, a blessed American signal. 

“OORAH!” Merwin yells, proud and hurt and exhausted and empty to the core.

Then he takes a bullet through the skull, and Corporal Nathan Merwin is no more.

*

“Is this guy bothering you?”

Clarice had been ignoring the soldiers drunken attempts to hit on her, but she was forced to turn around now that there were two of them.

“Now you’re both bothering me.”

“Aw, come on Merwin, you’re ruining it…”

“Man, you are way too drunk for this chick, fuck off.” Merwin redirected the guy, maybe a bit rougher then he needed to, but he was a pissed rookie who wouldn’t remember in the morning. 

He turned back to the chick, spunky looking, with short hair and a pile of plastic chokers around her neck. He wasn’t expecting her to be smirking.

“Merwin? Your name is Merwin?”

“Nathan Merwin, actually.” Shitty in, but at least it was an in. 

“That’s not better, dude.” She actually laughed, “did your mom pick it for you?”

So she could joke.

“Alright then, Missy, what’s your name?”

A beat, and then “Clarice Stokes. Are you usually this smooth?” Her tone was sarcastic but she wasn’t asking him to fuck off.

“I can be smoother, Clarice,” her face suggested she’d heard this a million times before, “but you’re missing a letter from your last name.”

“I think you’re actually getting rougher. And it’s Doctor Stokes.”

“Oooh,” a woman in uniform - hot - “and what are you a doctor of?”

“Physics.” Her facial expression was challenging. Merwin tilted his head to study her.

“You think I don’t look like a physicist.”

“No, I think you look exactly like a physicist. Doc.”

Chapter Text

Where We Parted (Part 2)

They step off the helo and there is a soldier waiting for them - Clarice surveys him from afar and judges him a Twink before she’s even heard his voice. She’s always liked Twinks - they’re a lot of fun. 

He salutes Eric smartly.

Clarice catches up in time to see Eric hand the soldier a sheet of paper. She already knows what’s on it.

“You should read this.” Eric’s voice is pretty level, but Clarice knows exactly what’s bubbling just below the surface. Puppy dog is nervous.

As the soldier reads Clarice chews her gum with her mouth open and quips “didn’t you hear? There’s a new King in the castle.”

“Looks that way,” is the response. Withdrawn - unlikely his current CO is going to like this.

Clarice puts her case down, unnecessarily, but if they’re all standing around making chit-chat there’s no point in holding it. Damn thing is heavy. 

“And you are?” Apparently that caught his attention.

“This is my assistant, Clarice Stokes.” Eric answers before Clarice has a chance to and she’s forced to correct him, yet again.

“Doctor Clarice Stokes.”

“Kolchek. First Lieutenant Kolchek.” Russian? Doesn’t look it.

“Well, the briefing room?” Eric asks stiffly. 

Jason nods and, somewhat reluctantly, walks off. Eric follows him and Clarice brings up the rear.

They’re led on a tour through Camp Slayer, where the air reeks of gun powder, trash and testosterone. 

“You’ll have to excuse the noise and disorder. We’re just getting the base set up,” - Kolchek stops walking so they can look around, and Clarice immediately looks up - this place has been bombarded to shit.

“Blows my mind. Only a few weeks ago, Saddam was living it up in here, chowing down on candy bars while some poor bastard clipped his toenails!” Kolchek laughs at his own banter, incredibly unconvincingly. 

Clarice, responds with a sarcastic “nice image.”

“Huh.” A noise of agreement suggests he is unable to tell that she’s being facetious. “If only he could see the state of this place now. Makes me smile.” This guy should have stayed in acting school, but it looks like Eric is buying it. Or he’s just as bullshit patriotic as everyone else here and Clarice never realised it. Kolchek walks off again and they follow, Clarice ahead of Eric this time.

“We’ve got the CIA. We got the Army, the Marines, DIA, the Air Force: hey, everyone’s invited!” They round a corner as Kolchek keeps talking to them like he’s selling them property.

“Everyone wants a piece of history! God Bless America.” Kolchek does a 180 to make sure they’re keeping up. As they round another corner, Clarice can hear music playing. 

She sees him before he sees her - ugly green muscle shirt and pants making him look drained and grey. She’s pretty fucking well versed in every inch of his olive-coloured skin. Army fatigues don’t make anyone look good. And he’s shaved his head again - that’s pretty cute.

They approach as Nate is finishing a rep, two weights on the side of the barbell (only two?), and he sits up, looking sideways at them.

“I see you, old man. Keep busting out those reps.” Kolchek sounds easy around him, they must be on pretty good terms, but Nate’s never mentioned the Southern string-bean before.

“Come join me. Maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two.” His voice is flat, and it sounds challenging, but there’s an easiness to it that suggests he’d be happy to bench alone.

“Later. We have company.”

“Yeah? Maybe Missy here would like to watch me get my sweat on, huh?” Nate readjusts his position and moves back, turning to better face them.

“Wanna spot me little lady?” He smiles, and Clarice has to fight her own reaction. Fortunately no one is actually looking at her and she manages to force her lips into a tight line. They’ve almost broken gym equipment before and this stuff looks old and busted as hell.

“I can see you just fine from here, thanks.” It sounds appropriately offended.

“Ignore Corporal Merwin, he lacks social skills.”

“I guess every unit has its resident jackass” says Eric as they walk away. Clarice follows, but not before looking over her shoulder to wink. They’d talked about what they could do and where when she found out she was flying out. Options were limited, but they were used to working with constraints. And restraints. 

Further along they meet another soldier, casually dressed and looking like a twelve year old in his camo bucket hat. 

“Sergeant Kay” and Kolchek fist bump, before their tour guide introduces his BFF.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel King. Just taking him down to the briefing room.”

“Yeah, gotta go get prepped,” Kay shrugs, but his attitude is way off. He looks like he’s looking for a fight - or somewhere to cry.

“I’ll see you in there, Marine,” Eric waves in greeting, but Kay only looks at Jason before walking past and away. Yeah, something is definitely wrong here… interesting. 

“So what’s his malfunction?” Eric jerks his hand to indicate Kay’s retreating back.

“Nick ain’t been himself lately. We got caught up in a shooting a few weeks back. Civilian ate a bullet, Nick took it hard.”

“Is he combat ready?”

“He’s a big boy, Sir, he’s ready.” Kolckek turns on his heel walks off. Clarice follows him and Eric walks in last place - he’s not good with people who don’t like him. He’s a bit socially fragile like that.

“Damn Joey, they got you sitting behind a desk? You want me to make a call?”

They walk into a dim room, where another twelve year old is sitting on a folding chair behind a card table. So this is little brother Joey?

“Nah, I’m all good. People who sit behind desks don’t tend to catch so many bullets, you know?” Joey smiles good-naturedly and points to Eric - “this must be the one and only satellite guy.”

Eric gives a small laugh - “the one and only satellite guy? I’m Eric King - Lieutenant Colonel Eric King.”

The kid called Joey fidgets in embarrassment, straightening himself up in his chair.

“Give the Colonel full site access” says Kolchek, like he’s totally used to the kid being nervous.

Joey stands, muttering fuck under his breath, and hands Eric a key card, but he salutes with a sharp Sir afterwards.

Kolchek makes to walk off, but he suddenly turns around and, waving the letter about kicking Mrs King off her throne, says “I’m telling you, when the Queen Bitch finds out about this she’s gunna flip her shit.”

“That’s my wife you’re talking about” Eric bites back. They’ve been separated for a year, but piles of emotional and stressful bullshit happening have made Eric a little desperate. Clarice had tried to intervene several times, but all her work went down the shitter about a week before they were scheduled to fly out. 

“I had no idea, I’m sorry.” This is definitely not a good sign, but she’s not surprised. Still…

“Nice work hotshot.” Clarice just likes to add insult to injury sometimes.

They walk into the briefing room, which is very large, and very damaged. 

Jason catches up with Eric: “Sir, I’m so sorry, Rachel never said she was married,” Clarice walks past them and away - her pockets overflowing with information at this point - and starts setting up. Eric joins her, briefly, opening his case, but then he wanders off, leaving her with the Twink.

“Right, let’s get you set up.” He looks completely at sea.

“I hope the bandwidth can cope with the data.”

“I’ll leave the tech stuff to you.”

“And I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you.”

“We got a deal, Lady.” Kolchek is speaking to her, but he isn’t looking at her anymore. People have started coming in, sitting on the sidelines. No one they met on the way in though, just more soldiers in the same gear with essentially the same haircuts and faces.

“What is this place anyway” Clarice pushes some playful inflection into her voice, “looks like an old ballroom.”

“That’s exactly what it is. I guess Saddam liked to get down on the dance floor.” 

“Do you think if his dance partner stepped on his foot, it’d be an instant ‘off with her head’?”

“Hahaha.” There’s that weird forced laughter again, its honestly fucking creepy. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Clarice speaks quietly, but not so quietly she can’t be heard, “maybe when we’re done I’ll let you spin me around a little.” She has to say something. He’s not looking at her and its weirding her out.

Jason replies in a seemingly regular tone but he sounds a little scared; “as long as you don’t step on my foot.”

Eric’s computer beeps and he walks back over to it, thankfully putting an end to the conversation. 

Kolchek suddenly moves away from Clarice and she looks up - Rachel has entered the room. Clarice unconsciously stands straighter and watches Rachel cross the floor and stride up to Eric. 

“Colonel King,” she says. It’s hard to read the inflection in her voice.

“Mrs. King.” Eric’s response is, stupidly, clipped.

“Eric this is my team, and if you wanna brief them, you clear it with me first.”

“I should have warned you I was moving the briefing forward - that’s on me. But things escalated, I had to move fast.” Rachel looks like she’s not buying it. Clarice can see why people call her the Queen Bitch, even as a term of endearment. 

“I have a duty to my team to stay ahead of the curve.”

“I understand Rachel, but CENTCOM has given their orders.”

“Orders?” Rachel’s emotions become obvious in that moment - she’s exuding negativity like a toxic cloud.

“I’m now commanding office - I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, truly. I’m sorry Rache.”

“Somehow I doubt that very much.”

Clarice knows Eric doesn’t mean anything by this - he didn’t even want to take over her team, just lead the operation. Caelus is his baby, and it’s a little bit Clarice’s too. Kolchek intervenes here to confirm the situation, and Clarice looks up in time to see Rachel take the offered letter. Things can’t get dicey so early into the mission, it’s already fucking awkward enough, so Clarice chooses this moment to say “I’m gunna need access to your network.” She’s pretty sure Kolchek would have kept trying to defuse the situation but people are more easily redirected if you simply give them something else to focus on.

“I’ll patch you through. Name?”

“Dr. Stokes. You can call me Clarice.” She tries to come off as friendly, or friendly enough. As soon as she turns back to the computer Eric says “Dr. Stokes, please prepare the presentation.”

“You found something?” Asks Rachel, but Eric saves his answer until everyone is in the room.

Clarice stands off to the slide, alone during the presentation, Kolchek about a metre away, then Joey, then Nate. But she can still see him. He’s leaning against a card table with Joey. He nods at her but she just pops her gum in response. Make him sweat a little. Eric is standing in front of the projection screen like a school teacher, and he’s still wearing his sunglasses - inside. A picture of the structure Caelus picked up is displayed behind him.

“The fuck is that? Modern art or something?” Merwin starts the presentation, probably without meaning to. Sometimes his mouth just has a mind of its own.

“This is footage from the highly classified Caelus program.”

“That supposed to mean something to me?” The basic premise does mean something to him, he just doesn’t know it by that name. Merwin does not look at Eric as he asks, looks at the ground instead, like not all the words he wants to say are coming out.

“It’s a thermal satellite system that I personally pioneered.” 

“Ohhh, well I’m impressed,” he looks up, “please, pioneer away.”

“You behave like this in all your briefings, Corporal?”

Kolchek intervenes, like he’s the teams tired father, “boys are just eager to catch a break sir. No harm meant.” 

Clarice isn’t thrilled with how well the presentation goes. She’s married to a soldier, but that doesn’t mean she agrees with what they’re doing. She listens to them talk about air support and it honestly seems like a terrible idea. They’ll have enough guns as it is.

“Nah, too many birds could bring them down on us. We move fast-in, fast-out.” Nate has a point but there’s also a joke there.

Joey catches it too: “that’s pretty much what your momma said to me.” So the kid is good.

“Hey careful, boy! If I didn’t pull out so fast, I could’ve been your ‘papi’!” They high five. Clarice tries very hard not to laugh. She’s heard so many of these daft jokes and for some reason they’re still funny.

“Alright, that’s enough, Merwin. Sir, what’s your call?”

Eric puts his foot down on the air support, pissing off both Kolchek and Rachel. 

As Eric tries to round off the briefing, Joey says “a lot of shit can go down in 24 hours” and Nate tells him to quit being a bitch.

“Clarice, help me set up the equipment.” Apparently Eric left his manners back in America. 

“I’m on it.”

Clarice is between her computer and Eric when Rachel comes over. The bandwidth is honestly fucking terrible so she doesn’t need to stand over it at all times.

“I’m going to download the latest satellite data.” She tells Eric, as a way of moving back out of the area, though honestly she’d rather watch paint dry than this. 

“You can have some alone time with him.” She adds.

“Thank you. Clarice,” Rachel says with clenched teeth and squinted eyes, like it is physically paining her to not punch the physicist. 

Clarice is watching the loading bar fill up when Nate leans against the table next to her. They don’t make eye contact, and are at least 30 centimetres apart. 

“Doc,” he starts.

“Marine,” she answers.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Miss me?” Nate’s dropped his voice real low, and Clarice feels it creep up her spine. The corners of her mouth twitch up.

“Hmm,” she contemplates, “might have done. Seem to remember you were pretty good in bed. It’s been a while though. Might need a refresher.”

Nate slides closer to her, dropping his voice even lower, “soon as we get back from the mission, I’m gunna eat you out until you’re dripping for me, and then I’mma fuck you til you can’t walk straight.”

Clarice can feel the tips of her ears burning, and she has to press her thighs together to stop the buzzing sensation, but she can’t stop the smile that’s starting to spread out, “is that a promise?”

But before Nate can answer, Kolchek calls out from across the room, “let the good doctor work, Corporal!”

Asshole.

Nate pushes himself off the table, walking behind Clarice as he wanders off. She presses her ass back into the wandering hand briefly, under the pretext of bending closer to the computer. God, she’s fucking missed him so damn much.

Her thoughts are wandering when Eric almost yells “how much longer for that download, Clarice, I need it ASAP!”

“Is five minutes ASAP enough for you?” What is he, eight years old, “downloading data now.” 

“Good. Let me check the satellite maps.” 

“Not the greatest bandwidth.” 

“We work with what we’ve have.” 

When the download in finally completed, the computer beeps warningly, and Clarice closes it with a snap, “download’s complete.”

“Let’s get to the helos.”

*

Clarice crosses over to the helicopters with Eric - she’s been in three of these fucking things today, the noise and vibration of them make her deeply uncomfortable. She’s seated behind the front seats when Joey takes a seat next to her. Nate is last on board, sitting between Eric and the door. Kolchek is talking some militant nonsense into his radio while Joey crosses himself.

“Hey Merwin. What’s your momma and the Bermuda Triangle have in common?” They’ve been in the air all of ten minutes and this shit is already starting, loud enough to be heard over the engine.

“Why don’t you fucking enlighten me?”

Joey grins cheekily, "they both swallow Marines.” Oh my god.

“That’s pretty good, boy. Hey look, your momma’s so nasty, I called her for phone sex and now I have a fucking ear infection.”

“Well damn, how long you been sitting on that one.”

“Oh yeah, you like that? I got a shit ton more of those bad boys lined up.”

“Yeah, that’s what your momma said.” Actually, the kid’s really not that bad - he’s certainly got Nate’s number, Clarice thinks. She’s trying not to look like she’s paying attention though.

Rachel verbally bitchslaps her way into the conversation, “you two wanna cut the bullshit and focus on the mission?”

“Hey! Only one place I let a woman boss me around like that, alright? And that’s between the sheets.” Clarice pointedly looks at the spot over Kolchek’s seat like it’s fucking high end art or something.

“I’m surprised your mom lets women into your bedroom. Don’t want her getting jealous now.”

Joey exclaims “damn Rachel!”

“Hey! The fuck y’all laughing at?” Clarice has to physically restrain her mouth from spiting out an ugly bark. Damn indeed; she didn’t think the Queen Bitch had it in her. Maybe Rachel isn’t so bad after all.

Clarice overhears Kolchek and Kay say Semper Fi to each other, and fist bump - Nate’s explained a bunch of the superstitions and in-jokes and history of the Marine Corps, but he’s never mentioned anything about them speaking Latin. Confused, she asks “Semper Fi? What’s that, some kinda boys’ scout thing?”

Joey answers pretty diplomatically that “it’s a marine thing. It means always loyal.”

“So what, it’s supposed to be lucky?” It doesn’t sound fucking lucky - sounds like a way to get yourself killed.

“Marines have a boat load of superstitions.” Joey confesses. 

What the fuck does that have to do with being loyal, Clarice wonders. Out loud she says “hit me with one,” even though she’s pretty sure she’s heard them all. 

“They say to never look back when you’re disembarking the helo. Otherwise you curse the whole team.”

“That’s gotta be about the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Probably the stupidest thing she’s heard again, but how the fuck does checking your ass is OK curse your team?

“Yeah well, maybe, but as I see it, why take the chance?”

“Eyes forward at all times,” interjects Merwin, “you look backwards in a war zone, it’s no wonder you get your ass shot off!”

‘Babe that still doesn’t make sense’ Clarice gives him a look she hopes will convey her opinion. She respects the hell out of Nate but the boy-scout shit goes over her head.

Suddenly a red light goes off on the ceiling of the helo and Kolchek launches into a weird pep talk he probably borrowed from a movie. But then Nate says “Amen to that, brother - OORAH!” 

And they all start yelling OORAH and Clarice wishes her brain would just switch off.

The helo lands and the Marines jump out, gas masks on, then it takes off again and circles. Rachel has taken Kay’s seat in the cockpit and is speaking Arabic over the loudspeaker while her soldiers converge on what literally just looks like a mess of huts. After maybe five minutes, a plume of yellow smoke goes up, and the helo descends again.

Clarice follows Rachel, Eric and Jason over to what is very clearly not a silo. If it is, it must be damn well hidden because there is nothing out here to suggest a large underground structure is being guarded by these clay-brick buildings - no trucks, no mess of tread tracks, no lookouts with their faces in the dirt. Clarice can feel apprehension rising in her gut - not only is this not what they were looking for, but something here feels very, very wrong.

“That went smoothly,” Merwin observes, coming out of a hut and into the light.

“You think?” Bites back Rachel, and she sounds like Clarice feels.

“Got this place locked down tighter than a virgins-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Corporal.” 

God, thank you Rachel.

Nate puts his hands up in mock surrender, quickly glancing at Clarice. She glares at him. He drops his hands, wrapping his fingers around his rifle, his posture admitting defeat.

“Are they ready for questioning?”

“Yeah, just don’t ask them any tough physics questions.” 

Kolchek orders Nate and Kay to keep watch, and then the three superiors enter the hut. Clarice approaches them, feeling uncharacteristically uncertain.

“I dunno about you guys but something doesn’t feel right about this place.” She rolls her shoulders, trying to ease the tension.

“Oh yeah?” Nate gives her a lopsided grin, “is that this, uh, women’s intuition I keep hearing about?” Oh - you mean that thing you totally believe in?

“Yeah, you wanna find out what happens when you piss it off?” Clarice shoved Nate and turns on her heel, stalking off. He’ll come after her anyway, she just needs a minute.

The scenery is, weirdly, kind of beautiful. Hazy and barren and wild. Clarice gets her five minutes of peace before a shadow falls on her.

“Not the time, Nate,” she can’t muster up the energy to be mad, though. She feels almost heartbroken. All that effort for nothing.

“Not the place either,” he says, standing next to her and staring off at the middle distance. 

“You still going to keep your promise?” Clarice asks - not for nothing, exactly, since she’s missed this idiot like crazy.

“I ever let you down before?”

Clarice allows herself to lean onto his shoulder briefly, then asks “when’s your next lot of leave?”

“Not for another few months - why - you only here for a sleepover?”

“Something like that.”

They stay silent for a while - wrong place, wrong field of work, wrong field of work to fucking fall in love in. But her life has been pretty interesting - she’s just not acclimatising well to this failure. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that this is a farm. No godforsaken weapons, and she’ll be whipped away from Nate before she can imprint his touch on her skin again.

“I’m gunna go talk to the boss, see if we can cut the crap. There’s nothing here.”

Clarice hums, “this was a lot of work, Nate, a fucking lot of work. And it got us dick.”

“I know babe. I’m sorry. Live and learn.” He brushes against her shoulder but the touch is gone too soon. 

Suddenly, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, something takes out one of the helos - it crashes to the ground, in a screaming explosion of metal.

Clarice instinctively ducks behind what is left of a wall and covers her head. Words just fall out of her mouth and she isn’t even aware she’s saying them - “Fuck! Shit! Fucking fuck!” - as the bullets spray over her head. She gets as low down as she possibly can, right up against the wall. There’s only the noise of gunfire and death - what the fuck went wrong? Was this the right place after all? Another one of the helos crash-lands explosively.

And then the ground begins to shake…

What the fuck is this? Bombs? An earthquake?

Clarice gets to her feet in time to see Nate running over to her, but he doesn’t make it: the ground disappearing beneath them and swallowing them whole. Clarice hits dirt with a whump, the air momentarily knocked out of her lungs, the world spinning behind her tightly closed eyes.

This cannot be fucking happening!

A vicious screaming rips her from her daze - someone is in agony above her. Clarice rises unsteadily to her feet, but the fog is chased away when she looks up. Nate is wrapped in barbed wire, blood seeping out through every patch of clothing, running down his face and he is begging her for freedom. Clarice’s mind clears in a hail of desperate worry. She reaches up to try and steady him, to try and untangle the wire, but everything she does seems to hurt him more, and he screams louder. 

“Jesus, I’m trying. Will you stop squirming around!” Clarice can’t keep the emotion out of her voice. She knows she needs to be the strong one here but his pain is bleeding into her, pulling useless tears from her eyes.

From the darkness, Kolchek and Kay (Heaven sent) emerge, and she wastes no time mincing words.

“It’s bad! He’s bleeding out, we have to cut him down right now!”

They are still in soldier mode, efficient and ready, but they’re scared - especially Kay.

“Hold tight buddy, we got you.” Kolchek sounds reassuring, but he has to rein in Kay, whose mind is clearly drifting: “Nick, I need you here.” 

Clarice can’t just back off and let them work, so she helps Kay support Nate as best she can, but her arms are shaking.

“Cut the wires,” Nick orders, and Kolchek suddenly has a combat knife that looks way too sharp; hacking away at the deadly bindings. Nate just keeps screaming as they work but the fall to the ground silences him. Clarice is on her knees in a heartbeat.

“Oh, he’s fucked, he’s so fucked” is Kolchek’s bullshit diagnosis. 

“You don’t think I can hear you?” Nate’s voice sounds so strained. 

“You’re gunna pull through, brother, suck it up.”

But Kay is barking orders again, overriding Kolchek’s pisspoor attempt to calm: “there’s morphine in my pack, grab it !” He leans in close to Nate to say “we’re gunna pump you up, OK?”

Pump him up? And then what - fucking carry him?

“Fuck,” is all Nate manages to get out - he’s going to fucking die down here!

Clarice can feel herself getting hysterical, yelling at them to “hurry the hell up” but Nick just says “we got this, you keep lookout.” There is something in his voice that infects Clarice, some undercurrent of fear.

“Lookout?” She has to know, “lookout for what?” But she doesn’t get an answer, and after looking around and seeing nothing, she discards the request and makes to walk back to Nate - but then something grabs her, and her world goes dark. 

*

When Clarice opens her eyes, she’s staring up at a distant cavern roof, laying next to a sheer rock wall. Her body aches and her stomach is turning. The light from her headlamp casts a pretty feeble glow into the open space above her. She sits up, stiffly, jolting something inside of her that sends a shooting pain up her side - broken ribs? But the pain subsides after a moment. She shrugs off her backpack and looks around. It’s very much the same - more rock, more darkness, a half cave with a ledge just outside the entrance. She gets to very shaky feet and steadies herself as the world spins. Then she walks out of the cave and takes a look over the edge.

There’s water below… no, not water - blood. A slippery slope littered with bones leads down towards it. Above her, and somewhere to her left, she hears screeching. Whatever took her, there’s more than one of them. Staring into the pit below her, jarring memories rise to the surface of her mind: Nate! 

“Fuck.” The word slips out, where is he? Is he OK? 

Without much caution, Clarice makes a slippery decent into the liquid, and starts walking. More screeching now, and splashing - fuck what is happening?

She reaches a rock overhanging that is barely supported by another pillar of rock. It wouldn’t take much strength to knock the whole thing over. Ducking under, she continues through a tunnel and comes to an abrupt halt.

It’s Rachel, clambering over a bit of rock or wood, splashing into the blood and being pursued by… Holy Mother of Fuck - what that was took her? The thing looks like a nightmare within a nightmare, and she’s shocked into a trance until Rachel physically bumps into her. She whips around.

It’s pretty fucking clear all semblance of safety is gone, so Clarice just tells her to run. But Rachel seems just as shocked to see another human and doesn’t move.

The nightmare screams, and Clarice throws out her left arm in desperation: Now! Go!

Jarred into action, Rachel runs past her, and Clarice backs up, watching the approaching demon. She feels the presence of the rock arch and, yelling with the effort, she knocks the supporting rock out of place. As suspected the whole thing goes crashing down, separating them from the demon and raining down smaller rocks into the blood.

Once the room stops shaking, it’s suddenly deathly quiet, but they still don’t speak as Clarice guides Rachel back to the incline she slid down. 

“We have to hurry. It’s not safe here.” Clarice warns, kind of uselessly. Using the flesh and bones, they both climb back up.

Clarice reaches the top and looks around, then watches Rachel pull herself up.

“I didn’t know that you could…” starts Rachel, unsure.

“Fight? Yeah, me either.” Although she didn’t exactly fight, she definitely saved both of them.

“What was that thing?”

As if Clarice knows the fucking answer to that question. “I don’t know.” She says, “but whatever it is, it’s not alone.”

Rachel looks around at the exact same boring walls Clarice has already seen and asks “where have you been?”

Clarice feels her skin crawl. Honestly, she has no goddamned clue. One minute she’s watching Nate bleed out, and the next minute she’s here, in the seventh circle of hell. But she can’t say that, so instead she just says “one of those things got its dirty hands on me, dragged me down here. Left me for dead.” Or at least she presumes. There is a good chance it’s going to come back and eat her. Might even be the same one that chased Rachel. Maybe it’s got a thing for women.

“Fuck!” Is Rachel’s incredibly eloquent response.

“Fuck doesn’t even start to cover it.” Clarice snaps back, maybe harsher than she should’ve. Rachel clearly hasn’t been having a better time than her. But anger is rising in her mind. She’s just standing here, swapping chit-chat, when Nate’s God-only-knows-where bleeding out.

“I’m lucky to have gotten away.”

Is she for real?

“You’re talking to a scientist. There’s no such thing as luck. You should be thankful I was there to help you.” Again, her tone is so much more forceful than it should be, maybe she should just tell Rachel the truth.

“I’m really grateful. Thank you.”

“Semper Fi,” Clarice has no idea why she says that, “we gotta find a way outta this hole.” 

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding out? Do you have any weapons?”

Clarice walks a little lap to see if there was anything she missed when she woke up and to avoid biting back that, no, the team’s scientist did not come armed. However as Clarice completes her lap, she sees that Rachel is rifling around in her backpack, and there is defiantly shit in there she doesn’t want Nate’s ex-CO to see. 

“Uh, do you mind?”

“Just need some batteries for this damn light.”

Clarice jerks her head and half shrugs aggressively, but Rachel is paying her no mind. 

“You could just ask. That ever cross your mind?” She points to her head for emphasis.

Again, Rachel does not respond, and instead she just keeps searching, so Clarice turns away. She doesn’t want to be looking when Rachel comes across the condoms or the very discreetly hidden racy underwear she’d wrapped in a pair of very ugly gym shorts on a whim. When she turns back she notices that Rachel is badly cut. She approaches, pulling a bandage out of her vest pocket. She’s not a doctor of medicine, but still…

“Looks painful.” Clarice observes, and her voice is softer.

“Yeah,” Rachel grips her upper arm, her headlamp finally fixed, “it is.”

“Think you can keep still?” Clarice doesn’t wait for an answer, she simply starts binding Rachel’s wound.

Rachel nods stiffly, pained, but says “I’m glad you’re here.”

Clarice’s temper has flittered out like a blown candle. She’s so fucking tired and Rachel doesn’t deserve her bite.

“Yeah, well. I guess I’m a little glad too.” She’d rather not have left Camp Slayer at all, would rather none of them did. Would rather be in a shitty little motel, wine drunk and naked with Nate. But she’s here, and Rachel isn’t the worst company in the world.

Clarice shoulders her backpack as Rachel looks up at the wall next to them. 

“I saw those same symbols in the shepherd huts.” 

“Those people must have been in the valley a long time.” Clarice wants to say something else, but suddenly the pain is back in her side, stabbing into her lung, and she jerks, folding at the middle, coughing so violently it forces her a few steps back.

Rachel looks suspicious, but says nothing. What can she say - did you catch a cold? More likely she caught some sort of fucking infection.

“There’s a way up, there’s no way we’re making it,” Clarice points skyward, “look at it, it’s barely climbable.” 

“We can make it together.”

Clarice hangs her head, then turns to looks at Rachel under the brim of her cap, “how did I know you were going to say that?”

Rachel approaches her, looking weirdly determined: “I met Eric at climbing class. I can get us out of here.”

God no wonder their marriage didn’t work out.

They both look up, and then start climbing, staying close, Rachel encouraging and supporting Clarice when she needs it. It hurts, more than it should, but it’s not as hard as it looked from the ground. 

When Clarice knocks a stone loose she tries not to listen to it landing somewhere below, and when they reach the top, Rachel helps her up over the lip.

Clarice grunts with the effort, then stands bent double.

“You OK?”

“Yeah, just need a minute.” The effort of everything is really starting to get to her.

“A minute isn’t gunna kill us.”

Ha! “Until it does.” 

Clarice forces herself to unbend, with her hands on her knees, supporting the weight of her ridiculously heavy head.

“God, y-you look terrible.” Rachel stutters - Clarice knows she’s sweating profusely, she can feel it cascading down her, and it feels fucking awful. Sticky and slick and cold.

Clarice looks up enough to see Rachel’s face when she retorts “gee, thanks Rachel. You ever think about going into motivational speaking?” She forces herself upright, but even upright she’s still hunching.

“Seriously though. Are you OK?”

“That’s gotta be about the dumbest questions I have ever been asked.” 

Rachel, with her hands on hips, looks up at the next wall.

"Giving me the silent treatment, huh?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” Clarice gives a half shrug and thinks I want you to tell me that Nate’s alive, that I’m going to be OK, and that we’re getting out of this shit-hole. “Something to get our minds off this place.”

“OK. So why did you become a physicist? I mean, you don’t…”

“I don’t look the type?”

“Well you don’t.”

“Oh, should I be wearing nerd clothes?”

Rachel squints at the sarcasm, “that’s not what I meant. You just don’t strike me as one.”

“Science was the furthest thing from what everybody thought I’d do. Something just for me.” Sadness starts to overtake her, this is reminding her of too many things that hurt.

“I know a little something about that.” Rachel’s eyes flick down, like there is some memory that bubbles to the surface for her too.

“You do?” Clarice hears her own voice coming out very low. Suck it up, woman, she chastises herself. Rachel apparently has the same thought as the next sentence out of her mouth is laced with authority. 

“It’s not easy being Queen Bitch. You think I got where I am with a soft word and a warm smile?” Rachel walks over to the next rock wall, and Clarice follows her slowly.

“And here’s me thinking you Langley types grew up on Easy Street.”

Rachel scoffs: “Easy Street? I had to graft to get here. You think it bothers me what people call me? I wear that shit like a badge of fucking honour. They have no idea the shit-hill I’ve climbed to get to where I am right now.”

“Yeah. And where is that, exactly?” Clarice already knows the answer.

Rachel bites her lip, considering, “looks like another shit-hill if I’m truly honestly with myself.”

Clarice laughs but it comes out as more of a wheeze.

“You and I… we’re not so different. We’re both doing what needed to be done in order to get to where we wanted to be. No shame in that.”

“No shame-” Clarice begins to agree, but she’s interrupted by more violent coughing, forcing her to bend double, but her hands slip from her knees as her body jerks up and down, insides gurgling alarmingly as pain explodes in her chest. She momentarily loses control of her right arm and it jerks straight out and bends back, as she grunts and gasps in agony, before falling to her knees. Clarice can sense Rachel standing over her as she writhes on the ground, clutching her chest as something moves within her, pained sounds ripping free from her mouth. She holds her head as she gasps for air - as a screeching, screaming ringing starts up in her ears, and something moves in her neck like large wriggling veins trying to constrict her throat. 

Rachel jumps back as Clarice steadies herself with both hands on the floor and tries to cough up whatever it is that’s inside of her.

“Clarice? What did that thing do to you?”

She has to get back to Nate - she cannot fucking die down here - she has a life! 

“Please… Please don’t leave me down here alone.” Clarice can hear herself begging; crying. She tries to scream but it’s strangled - she’s scared, so scared.

Rachel approaches her, “it’s OK… I’m here.” 

Holding her stomach, propped up with her other forearm against dirt, Clarice looks up at Rachel.

“Promise that you’ll stay with me…” It’s barely a whisper - a prayer.

“I won’t leave you. I promise! But you have to tell me: What did that thing to do you?”

Clarice doesn’t answer, she doesn’t even have an answer; she’s struggling to remember, head touching the ground - why is her head so heavy?

"There’s medication up there. It may help you. But we need to move, now!”

Rachel takes over, pulling Clarice to her feet, forcing her towards the rock face. They don’t make it very far this time, before Clarice has to drop back down.

“Rope,” she wheezes, “I have rope. Nate gave it to me as a fucking joke.”

Rachel takes it gratefully, and doesn’t push the point.

They make it to the top, by some fucking miracle, and Rachel helps her up. Clarice grunts as she’s pulled over the lip, staggering to her feet, and they look out across a gaping hole.

“We’re on the wrong side of the chasm. We’ll never make it.” Despair is flooding her brain as pain infiltrates every part of her body. She’s suddenly gripping her stomach, bent double again, coughing. The pain and effort bring her to her knees and then her cap hits the dirt. Rachel is at her side, a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t quit on me now!”

Rachel grabs the rope and loops it, throwing it up and over to the other side of the gap.

“We’ll have to swing over.”

“That rope won’t hold.”

Rachel puts all her weight on it and pulls - it holds, but no relief fills Clarice’s chest - there’s no room.

“Wait!” She can feel herself sweating, almost leaking; her face feels bruised and beaten and she’s hotter than she’s ever felt in her life.

“Do you really believe those medicines will help me?”

Rachel shakes her head, as if dispelling the thought. 

“Keep it together, Clarice. We’re almost there.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Way I see it, it’s your only hope. We can do this.” Now, where has she heard that before?

Rachel goes over first, looking back at Clarice to ensure the Doctor is watching before she makes the jump. She swings easily to the other side. 

Clarice approaches the edge, coughs and straightens rapidly, and they stare at each other, before Rachel throws back the rope. Clarice hesitates, wondering what would betray her first: Rachel or her body, then she crosses, dropping the rope as she hits the other side. Falling to her knees at Rachel’s feet, Clarice starts coughing again. She can feel her throat filling with something, something alive…

“You OK?” Rachel asks as her body convulses.

Clarice looks up at her, sees that Rachel’s eyes are soft and concerned, and says “that answer your question?” But there’s no fire left in her.

Rachel nods, “we need to get you to the temple.”

She rises and Clarice follows. 

They walk in silence. It’s fucking magical, or divine providence, or psychic how Rachel seems to knows where to go. Suddenly there’s gunfire up ahead of them, and at least gunfire means humans. Unless the demons have learnt how to fire rifles. They traverse a precarious ledge, coming out into an area with tables and boxes and old human items, but they don’t have time to stop and stare. Somewhere in the distance, a light is shot out, the spattering of gunfire creating showers of sparks - and the air is full of screams.

“Push forward into the temple!” That’s Kolchek’s voice.

Rachel gets her arm under Clarice’s shoulder, and starts dragging her, running towards the commotion.

“Put your shoulder into it!” Kolchek again.

“Hurry!” That’s Eric.

“I don’t see the Iraqis…” Kay?

“If they’ve got any sense they’ll stay back - shit’s about to get real in here!” 

Rachel drags Clarice up a flight of stairs towards a sliver of light. The gap in the door is only about one human wide at this point, and Rachel yells out WAIT!

Kay’s face appears in the crack of the closing door. 

“Rachel?!” He sounds ridiculously surprised. Clarice hears Eric mimic the name with even more confusion in his voice.

Rachel drags Clarice through the doorway and places her down. Kolchek leans in, squatting next to Clarice while Rachel catches her breath.

“You’re alive?” Kay again.

“Have any doubt, Marine?” Oh, for God’s sake.

Jason hefts himself up and pushes the door closed alone, grunting with the effort of adding a thick plank of wood to bar it, then he goes back to check on Clarice, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“I saw those things take you…!” Yeah, and I saw you administering shitty medical aid to my husband, Clarice thinks, but she can’t get words out right now.

“Where’s Eric?” Rachel’s voice is so clear cut. It’s not over emotional, and a perfect picture forms in Clarice’s mind. Guess neither of us really took the other into our confidence, huh.

“Rache! I held on as long as I could, but… the rope… It snapped. I-I didn’t cut it, I wouldn’t.”

Oh for fucks sake, it it really the time for this? Eric sounds so pathetic.

Pain jerks through Clarice’s body but she doesn’t have the strength to respond. She’s trying to lift her head to look around. Why hasn’t Nate come over to her?

Eric’s voice cuts through her musings as he comes out with “you’ve been fucking him, haven’t you?” And then suddenly they’re all fighting.

“Always loyal? What bullshit.” Oh, shut up Eric!

Something snaps in Clarice at the same time utter agony explodes across her body - a scream tears itself out of her and Jason jerks up and away, stumbling to put room between them.

“The fuck is happening to her?” He sounds terrified - like he knows exactly what the fuck is happening to her.

“She’s infected.” Rachel is no-nonsense, still the good guy.

“She’s turning into one of those things! Why’d you bring her here?” One of those things? The demons? No! She can’t!

There is screaming and ringing in Clarice’s ears, she’s burning all over and the pain is almost blinding her, but she looks up at the group in front of her, squinting against the pain, reaching through the fog and haze and she doesn’t see him - he’s not there!

“Where’s Nate?” It’s barely a fucking whisper.

"She needs our help!”

“She’s beyond help! She shouldn’t be here!”

“Where’s Nate?”

”Agreed! We gotta…!”

“Wait! She’s one of us!”

“Step aside Rachel.”

“It’s too late, Rachel, she can’t be saved.”

“You can’t possibly know that!”

“Where is Nate!?” Why can’t they hear her?

“You heard the man. Now step aside."

Rachel is begging now, “Jason, please. Don’t do it.”

Clarice starts screaming again, covering her mouth as she feels like something is rising up from inside her, blood is coming out from between her teeth and everyone jerks back. They’re all staring at her now.

“WHERE IS NATHAN?!” 

The silence only brings more pain, as Kolchek… as Jason cannot look at her. 

“He didn’t… he didn’t make it.”

The scream that bursts forth from Clarice is not one of agony but of heartbreak - of a loss she cannot possibly recover from. There is nothing… there is nothing.

She looks up at Jason once more, and he understands.

Rachel screams out NO, but Jason orders someone to hold her, and Eric steps forward to restrain… a struggling friend. 

“Let go of me!”

Clarice looks right into Jason’s eyes and he looks back, “I’m sorry Rachel,” she whispers, and he shoots her in the head.

The last thing she hears is Rachel’s desperate scream.

*

They’re standing on front of Treasure Island, watching the pirate show, holding clear plastic cups of alcoholic pink lemonade. Nate has one arm around her, his hand up the back of her shirt. Clarice is holding the strap of her satchel, filled with precious shitty souvenirs. 

They’re tipsy, but not drunk. The lights and sounds of the Vegas Strip have been their whole world for a week so far, and they have another week to go.

Fire is launched up into the sky, and Clarice leans in closer to Nate, pressing her forehead and nose against his cheek.

“Let’s get married.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah - right here - in Vegas.”

“In one of those little Chapels?”

“At the Graceland, with an Elvis Priest.”

Nate puts his drink on the cement pillar in front of them, and turns to wrap both of his arms around her waist. She leans in so that his sweet breath is ghosting her face.

“Is that OK?”

“Yeah - I’ll hide Merwin - I don’t have a middle name.”

Nate grins, “neither do I.”

“I don’t want a ring either… maybe a tattoo. Two roses intertwined - maybe like the rose from A Matter of Life and Death.”

“But make it goth.”

Clarice laughs against his lips.

“I’m gunna get a ring. Confuse the fuck outta of the guys back on base.”

They kiss, blind to the tourists around them, blind to the fireworks, blind to everything but the other.

Til death do us part.

*

[Note: There is always life after the death of a loved one. You’re strong anyway - but for the sake of some sweet angst I can overlook that...]