Work Text:
Keegan has been through a lot of shit throughout his life. That’s no secret; not to anyone that spends 5 minutes within his presence and especially not to the people that have known him for much more than 5 minutes. He’s “impossibly tough” (thanks Rorke) and “disturbingly durable” (thanks Elias) both of which are products of him going through the various personal layers of Hell a little too early in his life.
The point is, Keegan liked to at least believe he was pretty durable, as Elias once said. Operation Sand Viper taught him many things, and that just so happened to be one of them. Sure, he came out of it feeling like he was made of glass - weathered down, one wrong move away from shattering irreversibly - but looking back it’s… a reassurance. A sign that he could get through anything. They survived. Fifteen against hundreds.
Keegan was a survivor, a hardened soldier. He'd looked death in the face and he'd won.
Which is why it’s nothing short of mortifying to be in this situation. Hazy, confused and fucking cold. His shivers were bordering on violent, it’s a miracle his chattering teeth hadn’t bitten through his tongue yet. Simple things felt far too difficult; his usually sharp mind was well and truly dulled by the biting chill creeping through him. Of all the things, how the fuck was this the thing that overwhelmed him? Had him struggling to comprehend anything beyond the tremors barrelling through his body?
And the worst part? Rorke is the one bearing witness to his most pathetic display yet. He would’ve preferred anyone else, in all honesty. Even Merrick. Even Elias. Because while Merrick probably would’ve poked fun at his expense, and Elias would have - no doubt - gone into full “fatherly” mode, they wouldn’t really judge him for it. Or at least, Keegan didn’t think they would.
But Rorke? He’s... Well. Keegan wasn’t exactly sure what to make of him. The man was his captain; impressive, reliable but also downright terrifying. Keegan didn’t want to say he was a hardass per se, especially considering some of the other superior officers he’d met in his lifetime; but he definitely didn’t have the same tact that Elias did.
Rorke took shit very seriously, he expected the best - and only the best - out of them at all times. So him seeing Keegan at his worst? Seeing Keegan crumble over some chilly temperatures? Yeah, not exactly what Keegan would call ideal.
This was so stupid. So fucking embarrassing. Why did Rorke have to be the one to get a front row seat to this shit? If the abyss looked him dead in the eyes and threatened to banish him to an eternity of nothing right now, he would take it up on the offer in a heartbeat.
Actually, with the way he felt, the abyss might actually be here to do just that.
Fuck he was tired.
What was he thinking about again…?
There’s a light pressure on his wrist, right on his pulse point and then a faint muttering of expletives.
“Christ kid, you’re freezing.”
He sure is.
His eyes flutter open just barely, it almost surprises him how heavy his eyelids feel. Should they feel this heavy? He doesn’t think they should. Was opening his eyes always this hard?
“Y’seein’ me, Keegan?” Technically, yes he was. It's a little hard to focus but he can identify him well enough. He can’t even nod his head in reply, but the slight tilt must’ve been good enough. “Good. Stay with me, now.” the pressure on his wrist stays for a bit, until finally the captain moves to help him sit up.
There’s something almost funny about the way Rorke handles him. Almost like he’s trying to be gentle, though Keegan’s not sure he’d ever quite attribute such a word to Rorke of all people. It’s made quickly unfunny, however, when Rorke's jacket is gingerly shoved onto him, as well as the hat he was wearing. He was wearing his captain's jacket and beanie. Because he was beaten out by the weather.
At this rate he couldn't tell if the embarrassment or the bone-deep chill was more exhausting.
"We need to get you out of here. Think y'can stand?"
In Keegan’s defence, he did try. He tried his very fucking damndest to get his shaky legs to cooperate, but Rorke wasn’t having it, making him sit right back down after only a few seconds of watching him struggle. The apology he uttered under his breath barely caught Keegan’s notice before he was being (carefully) heaved up into Rorke’s arms.
If he didn’t wish for certain death before, he certainly did now.
Rorke seems to understand, and rumbles an apology again. Keegan just hopes he didn't unknowingly pull a face to garner such a reaction.
"Sorry, kid. It'll be faster this way anyway."
Perhaps luckily for him, the entire jourmey doesn’t exactly register in his memory. In fact, he’s pretty sure he ended up passing out at one point; one moment he’s staring blearily up at Rorke, and the next he’s suddenly coming-to in a helo, already curled into Ajax’s side with a comforting arm wrapped around his waist. No more biting winds to gnaw at him, but he still felt more akin to a popsicle than a person.
There's some muttering around him that he doesn't have the energy to decipher. A hand settles on the nape of his neck, and he follows it to a sympathetic-looking Merrick. The look in his eyes is nothing short of soft, and Keegan would've bashfully ducked out of its path, had the dumb bastard not opened his mouth to ruin it all.
“Not doin’ so hot, huh?” That fucking–
“‘Sshole.” Keegan grumbles, pressing closer to Ajax. Rorke’s chortling loudly from somewhere, which only furthers his annoyance. Ajax swats Merrick's side with the same hand he had around Keegan, though he was failing to hide his amusement.
"He just came back around, man, give him a break." The chiding only gets an indignant scoff out of Merrick before he shuffles up, now pressing Keegan between them as he threw his arm around him in a mirror of Ajax's. Surprisingly, it's kind of comfortable. A steady, warm presence on either side of him, protective in a sense. He could almost fall back asleep if it wasn't for Rorke's distant order to keep him awake.
Great.
"You okay?" Ajax asks more quietly now. There's not exactly room for a private conversation in this situation, but it's as close as they could get. Out of all the Ghosts, Ajax seemed to understand him the most; was always considerate of the fact that Keegan hated drawing attention to himself or got overwhelmed when too many people were focused on him. He'd lowered his voice, made a moment just for the two of them so he'd feel more comfortable to talk. Ajax was one of the few people to ever accomodate for him. It had his stomach flipping a little. No one had ever known him the way Ajax knew him.
"'m tired..." he mutters lowly, burying his face further into the other's shoulder with a sigh. Ajax's thumb starts to run up and down where it rested on his waist; a small gesture but it's soothing all the same.
"We'll be back and through medical before you know it," Right. Medical. He caught his frustrated huff before it could leave, burying his face more into Ajax's shoulder. Sleep is all he wanted right now, but that's the last thing he was going to get. He's allowed to be a little miffed about it, he thinks, but there's no need to get huffy to Ajax about it.
"Wanna play I Spy?" The sudden joking remark has Keegan grinning sleepily, unable to hold back the chuff of laughter that preceeded it.
"God no, please." He pleads in response, "Anything but that."
"I'm sure a refined gentleman of your tastes must prefer 20 Questions," Merrick supplies, joining in on the conversation now that it wasn't hushed.
"More like the Quiet Game." The resulting snort that gets out of Ajax is every bit worth it.
"He's saving 20 Questions for the medical team."
"Right, right, so you just played a real long game of I Spy with Rorke, yeah?"
"Oh my god,"
"You having fun over there boys?" Elias calls softly. Their heads snap up to look at him, startled out of their joking pretty quickly. Well. The other two had quick movements. Keegan could barely lift his head, but he still managed to look at Elias. All he does is give them a fond smile. "Good to see you more alert, Keegan. Had us worried for a while there."
Oh god, don't make him think about that. If there was one thing he was lacking, it was the mental energy he'd need to deal with everything that's happened in the past... However long. He's not exactly sure how long he was out for. Surely not more than a couple hours.
"Thank you, sir," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Definitely... doing better now."
"Honestly kinda scared the shit out of me when Rorke carried you in." Ajax's brow creases, "Think that goes for all of us."
"I've never seen Rorke or Elias fuss over someone like that before." Merrick mutters quietly. He can tell it's Merrick's attempt at sparing Keegan a little of embarrassment, but he still feels his figurative hackles raise about it.
Jesus fucking Christ. Can they please not destroy the last of his dignity? A shaky sigh left him, frustration building in his chest. "Not my finest moment."
"We all have our moments Keegan." Elias placates him, voice firm and strong but in no way demeaning or condescending. It's one of the things he appreciates about him; preferring to strictly build others up, rather than burn them down and rely on the slim chance that they can find a phoenix in the ashes. "There's no shame in that." He's too tired (and too smart) to argue with that; though he still feels terrible, still sits uncomfortably with guilt and an unhealthy dash of self-hatred, there's no point to really put up a fight about it. He fucked up. It happens. And he'll just have to prove himself later.
'Turn the sting of survival into fuel for bettering yourself.' As Rorke had once told him. Fuck ups are dangerous, but getting through one intact almost always guarantees that you'll be improving. (Especially when you're on Rorke and Elias' team.)
He gives a small nod and rests himself against Ajax's shoulder again.
"Don't lose your head thinking about it now. We'll go through it once you're in the state to do so. Alright?"
"Yes, sir." Defeated. For now. He's sure this'll come back to haunt him for a while, but for now he'll try and let it rest, idly listening to the conversations that sprung up between his teamamtes, though it mostly ended up as background noise. As Ajax's head comes to rest on top of his (more comforting contact that he soaks up like a sponge) he starts going back into his own thoughts.
...He needs to figure out the least awkward way to give the hat and jacket back.