Chapter Text
"Fifth Time This Week.." He poked its top, flipping off the lid to keep the water in great, heating volume. Dragging the coffee's full filter out from its tiny gap, Merrick took a look inside the machine once more. Carpals clashing the railing of its smooth blackish tint, fog swirling up in circles within the walls of its glass.
"Yeah?" Flicking a pinky on it, the coffee machine jolted back a bit.
"Don't know what the hell it was." Crossing his feet and laying a hand on his hip, Elias kept on trying figure out what the problem could have been. Merrick however, scratching the left of his beard, unplugging the cord.
"Sign to stop drinking mass amounts of bitter caffeine." Keegan's sly mouth eased by, ignoring Elias's gaped expression and Merrick's rude glance to his backside, but he was already gone before the two of them could retort. Like they could really retort with anything anyway.
Taking the little pot from its place under the nozzle, its fogging halted along with the silent hum. The water was fine, filter was good, and tray wasn't overfilled. Was There Something Else Wrong? Taking the filter from its resting spot, he threw it away and continued to test the small Keurig.
"Knew we shouldn't have bought a Keurig." Elias's hands went up in the air, anger faulting his face, boiling beneath the surface. Merrick however rolled his own chestnut pupils in his skull annoyingly. It was 50% off! How could he Not buy the damn thing? Rare to even find one 20% down so when the chance was crystal clear, he'd grab it like anyone else would have.
"It, Was, On, Sale." Though, Elias didn't pay any mind to that, he continued poking it around while Merrick kept attempting to find the problem. Despite his bandaged fingers, he was determined to point out whatever issue the coffee machine produced. It had been working welly ever since they bought it in January, but now in fucking November, it decided to fuck itself over. They must have over worked its alloy, with how many times that they've kept it on. Somebody must have not been unplugging it after its use, and Merrick knew exactly who it was.
"Grim." His short strands laying fully on the couch's straight figure was enough to tell him, he probably needed it anyway. Man was knocked out cold from overworking his ass off yesterday, beating himself up for failing so hard at what was only natural. As if the safehouse guarding wasn't enough out in the blistering hot sun, getting chases by a bear all the way back to camp was far too much. The fear had subsided but of course, the memories of its clawing high paws raised briskly in the air well Never cleanse itself from his mind.
Even after all that, he still managed to do his routinely night check with Their Captain, and finish strong with offering to cook in forgiveness for abandoning is gun when fleeing the bear. Happily, they were proud to say his addition to the team was appreciated at the end of the day. No one really offered to cook so, it was taken greatly as an affectionate stand and means of swell gratitude towards the teams hardcore members. It did give Elias a good nice sit down too, being the primary cook, the kitchen was kept to his order. Only he was to put kitchen appliances in the placing that suited himself.
"C'mon, give him some slack. He was almost history a few hours ago." Elias slummed to the short hairs, picking at them relentlessly before shaking his head and turning down the hunting show he had been watching prior. Duck Dynasty, Man-Hunter or something like that? Whatever these red necks were doing out in the middle of the woods with guns, it apparently wasn't funny and engaging enough since its watcher had fallen out.
"When is there any slack in war?" As fast as he'd come, plain issued white boxers riding his waistline, accompanied by the nearly too small t-shirt, slumped forward, empty green glass in his fingertips. So much for his name being a fighting move, he didn't look to have any Kick in him.
"Grim! Grim!" he knocked on the ride of his skull, attempting to awaken their teammate's heavenly slumber, to which only caused his neck to advance down on the couch cushions, mouth open wide and slobber drooling onto the fibers. God, they'd have to clean that later.
Continuing to poke at his welly defined face his shambling breath wasn't enough to his ear to awaken the tired one. Plus, he'd have to go inside of his room with all that damn snoring. Especially know that everyone was rising from their own snoozing, just to hear more when they came downstairs. The dorms were paper fucking thin, everything could be heard from two to three rooms down, no wonder all the snorers were downstairs. At least that barricade underneath them would numb some of the snoring.
Merrick's nails kept inching across the screws under the machine, to small to see them from the angle he kept from the machine. Opening the lid of the water container in its backside, he poured out the water and tried again, laying their coffee bean baby on its hip. Pushing his fingers into the holes of which the screws lay, they didn't move at all, no shake or anything.
"I may just be burnt out." Elias waited for him to finish flipping it on its other hip, Merrick nodded, checking the bent above its lock tab. Stand it up this time, he popped open the top lid. Still, every single detail was in its correct place, harbored in its specific destination. NO hanging bits or chipped off places, everything was alright.
"Eighty-Five more dollars wasted....My god...And I haven't even bought the suit for my daughter's wedding yet." He whispered to himself, sighing loudly, he stepped away from it for a moment, looking at it in full before he heard a set of footsteps coming down the stairs once again.
They both turned on cue, and thankfully, were met with the same early bird that ran off. The sniper knew not of social enlargements neither of laying anything down easy on anyone. Including his own team, like Merrick's contradiction of responsibility for that damn coffee machine.
"I'll be buying the coffee machines from now on." Not meaning to sound cocky, he slid himself into the fridge, past the left over sandwich meat and personalized drinks to his own food in the far back. The box with the name coaxed over it in sharpie had its tab for opening had been ripped from its usual spot. Meddled with? As always. Nothing like stealing your own battle buddies nourishment in attempt to satisfy your own hunger, huh?
The large chunk of well done steak had been ripped apart from its T-bone mashed potatoes scrunched up in the corner of the tray with cheese scattering over them in visible disarray, the corn too. Half of the cob was fully peeled and flaked from its right side, slipping through the gaps between the foam walls. Messy ass eater this one was, definitely didn't waste time....And looked to be ate in a rush. Hell, the steak wasn't fully finished yet and operator seared the fucking thing near perfection!
"Who?" A mere question, with no other addition to it. And just like that, everyone was hushed by that simple factor, silence in the room from just a one worded inquiry, that's all he wanted to know. Was he going to...Punish that person? No. It's just food after-all, he could go get another, he just wanted the person to feel responsible for what they had done, whether it be, His Own Captain. Responsibility had to be taken for their own actions, and right now, it wasn't giving any chance that someone would own up to what they had done.
Kick had been standing there for awhile now, index fingertip mid pause at the placement of Riddian's slouched ear, confused as ever since he didn't know Keegan was granted food inside of their fridge. Come to think of it, Keegan wasn't there when the operator cooked his ass off last night, neither was Their Captain, in which wasn't really strange. But what was strange was that Keegan knew there was a box in there what had his name on it. Maybe after Riddian finished packing it up, he had told him about it?
"Well?" He asked, and this time, he'd be able to see whom would act faulty. Keegan picked up on some little nervous tacks and nicks all of the members have done over the years, so who acts upon anxious nerves is worth the inquiry. Right now however, no one was making this as easy as it should have been.
His bearded companion had continued on with his task, so he was an instant no. His lies would show through the lips silent tremble but they were closed, along with his fingers, no mistakes were made rechecking every crevice of the coffee maker. Elias too, his short glance upward was noticed but he went right back down to the task at hand. Lasering his forehead, he wasn't sweating bullets, good. So they weren't it. What about Kick? A pure shrug and then came over to the fridge to look at the box and inspect who's own marks could be left behind as a clue, Riddian was already off of the table. It was his way of playing the little detective role in all of this, see any bite marks left behind, or the fork indents in the foam.
"Napier? Chris? Alex?" Elias checked their names off one by one with his fingers, silencing at the end as if he forgot one, but he was too hesitant to say."....Gabe?" Rightful for the hesitancy, no one ever accused Their Captain of taking something he didn't own. The principles of Just And Unsuitable behavior applied to him as well, and they all knew, it was pretty bad when they suggested him, but this hadn't really happened in awhile.
The elder received a glance of burdened secrecy from the hands of his helper, it was just a simple suggestion choice of names. Gabriel wasn't supposed to really be exempt from anything, as every man on that tea could have lost their wonderful qualities form the trauma inducing experience of Operation Sand Viper. But he'll be damned if it didn't feel wrong just putting his name out there like that, at least that's what he would feel if he was in the position that Gabriel was in at the moment. He practices all of his teachings, even though there was no need for it to be said aloud. Rorke teaches fundamentals of the battlefield, Not Of The Kitchen.
"No comment....Noooo....Comment.: Merrick pried at the freckles of bean on the interior of the Keurig's pod holder, the warmth from the previous steam subsided into residue of the watery cold. Ignoring the droplets washing into existence, he let go of the machine to pull himself back before he stomped his foot on the carpeted kitchen floor.
"Give it a rest already, Kick'll go buy a new one later on today." Elias waved his fingers towards Merrick but the petty officer didn't get it through his mind, maybe he couldn't fix it like he thought he could. A slice of his manhood, taken right off, from a repair with such incredibly simple instructions, but rather convoluted machinery before him. For once, he'd been ransacked by a inanimate object. After manhandling a turret on the back of a damaged rover, after rappelling down multiple windows, fighting through his Broken Ribs during various fire fights, graduating SEAL training at only 17, just to be beat by a fucking Coffee Machine.
"No, he won't None of you choose the right one." Keegan was honestly sick of babysitting these grown ass adults because they didn't know what the fuck they were doing. Like Merrick, Merrick needed to be truthful and just say he couldn't do it alone, or he needed a break, then come back with much more resilience towards the thing. His head wasn't in the right place anyway, 3 AM was their gradual awakening from the safety of their mattresses. And to awaken without any caffeine to pamper the addicts, wouldn't do anyone any good.
"Just forget it. Riddian probably can make you another...Whenever he gets up." Kick threw the box down on the table with a slight panic, since Keegan didn't know how to take that. So the little 'Detective' wanted to let whoever t was slide by like this was no type deal or anything and possibly let them continue to do this. Uh-huh, yeah, No Way.
Kick's palm was shoved off of the box's lid as he came from the other rounding of their marble table, the silver trashcan had been awaiting, stepping on the tiny foot mechanism to open its mouth. Before he could even make that spring behind the damn thing close, his hip snatched itself back, freezing himself in his stride at Keegan's own knee stopping him from moving past. Up and Down his restless irises went, but the sniper didn't care, giving him the most disheartening glare he could ever muster.
"Keep. It's not that serious.: It was tiring, glancing in the face of his sergeant, trying to piss him too wasn't on the agenda but he couldn't help if he did. Keegan's voice was not that present around the group of eight, but when he did, it was taken to the most serious indent. He meant every word that would leave those masked lips of his. No need for doubt since he'd solve any of it in the matter of seconds that you talk to him. And just like the forming cylinder of uncertainly within Kick, his doubt was answered by Keegan's sleep ridden voice.
"It was probably Alex, is he up yet?" There it was, the determination he was looking for vaguely reminded him of His own. It made sense that they'd get along pretty welly because of their attributes, and how much they'd find themselves drawling decisions based on Keegan's own thinking. From what they had supposed, Their Captain and Elias had put trust in Merrick and Keegan the most, factoring out the others to be not as great in their perseverance of work.
"I...I don't fucking know man, why don't you go check?!" He had enough of this stupid back and forth, but to Keegan, they were just starting. He would find whoever was responsible, even after his planned return of slumber. If it be Riddian himself, he too would get a deserved thwacking as well. No one was safe from Keegan's angst.
He was gone just like that, rushing off into the corridor to find Alex's door, the burgundy wood would allow him a piece of his time, as Alex's door was the only one that hadn't been remodeled after those shit strikes from Odin. At least any up coming ones wouldn't be that damn vicious, His room took a big tole from it too. The roof had been ripped open from its burning rod, wall insulation left out be molded and stained the outer color's a deep shade of brown. No amount of scrubbing would be enough to reed the wall of its sprinkling color.
"it's a coffee machine, don't get too pressed." Elias patted him on the back, but that only furthered his building stress. Why couldn't he just understand that for once, he couldn't do it alone? He'd seen it too many times in him, and it was bluntly large in its works. It was clear to everyone around that he'd been hurt by the finger talent he lacked, trivial to his working ethic, he still didn't want to state how it felt. Once the deficiency of machinal cultivation had been seen and recognized, his repudiation of said deficiency would be the start of his downfall.
"N-No! I-I got this, I can do it...I-I just need a little bit more time." Though, the second eldest wasn't convinced, carpals swatting at Merrick's blood rushed fingertips. he gave in and crashed his temple to the countertop's surfacing, letting Elias drag him away was better than continuing on with this flawed belief. Did it shackle his ride? Rattle his exuviation? Shank His Prestige? An underived chunked piece of decorated perplexing software, made to serve humankind, has shown its dominance over its human creators?
Certainly one of the two, as Merrick didn't seem like he was on board with the decision Elias had made, his frustration wouldn't label him as a quitter. Though, his negative stance around the event gave him the most of his worries. People don't think much of the technology they take for granted, so for the moment of said, no one thought to give their coffee machine a break. Really, it was a group pleasure, without giving it a chance to breath and air out, the machine had went dry from being used for so long. Next time they buy their coffee machine's, like Keegan said, he'd be in charge of having the financial burden on him to choose the right one.
All others considered to be un-financially independent were in charge of the small things, like towels and toilet paper, drinks and food as such. Which, Riddian and Chris were put to the home appliances, but for some unknown reason, they couldn't make the dash for Keegan, so Merrick was their next best option. Their mistake of who was fit for the job wasn't discovered. until later after the poor overworked machine began to deteriorate, of course the duo looked at Merrick for the blame, rightfully placed too. One little detail what was missed, was the attraction to its lower price. An un-written rule, never buy anything that cheaper than the rating cost of its normal range.(In Short, Don't Buy Anything On Sale If It's Too Good To Be True) because of it's short life span. Merrick must have forgotten this rule of thumb maybe? Or he genuinely was distracted and blinded by its lower cost?
Whatever the hell it was that old him this would be a good idea could be at fault for his thinking, especially is he was tired and just trying to simply rush through his options. Little of what else may be taken into thought, it was dropped a couple of times on the way back to the base, but no one needs to know that, Right? Well, except, the ones whose money he had just wasted, which in turn be his own.
"How about we settle on some ranging, that sound good?" Elias's level of perfecting his distraction tactic really went a long way, including with Merrick's lucid daze, distraught from being told to back off. But it would do more good than harm, and he needed to see that right fucking now.
"...Sure, why the hell not." It was secured that his pride couldn't stand walking off on a little, nice job as such. But what really bothered him was that Elias wasn't taking him as serious as he would've liked. With wearing his pride on his sleeve, anything to tamper or to tarnish it would be dealt with in a matter of seconds.
Would it make a difference anyway? That coffee machine in his mind, had won the battle, and he'd just be walking away from it. Letting it cast over him, letting it Win. If it even did have a face, it would be taunting the proud, quartering SEAL in all dark blue. It was Merrick's job to not let in smudge his calm and collective status, however, with it being a unpretentious object of such, how could he not?
Later on, after the targets in the shooting range had been marked and the birds had flew off from bullet shells in the distance, Elias and Merrick would ask Keegan for the keys to the jeep they so awfully needed. But with a foul swooping against a dried drool over their couch, the smell of sweet, brewing pot of coffee had laid itself under its nozzle. No telling how long it's been sitting there for, maybe there wasn't any issue to begin with? Or they were looking too hard that they overstepped something easy? Merrick cared not as a hefty shadow and slow creaking of boots had vanished in their eardrums, up the stairs. Seeing an empty set of carpeted stair steps, made him think he was just hearing things, and Elias's clear confusion aided that.
The former SEAL held his temple, sweating pooling from the wrinkles as his laughter had been strained in uneasiness. But, his friend had only grabbed the handle of the steaming, glass pot. Those shining whites couldn't be shown enough through his cheesy smile.
"You think it was Keegan?" He whispered over to the frazzled partner beside him, too caught up in his own head to actually hear the elder. A little pat on the shoulder did him at least a little bit to knock him out of his gaze.
"...Y-Yea." No, no he didn't think it was Keegan, but for the time being, he was literally to irritated and fucking muddleheaded to argue the differences. Pulling two mugs of black and blue from the cabinets, ignoring their little curious dives and continued to pour themselves a cup, without the knowledge of who was responsible.
Truthfully, whoever did must have just wanted some themselves, or just wasn't up to fix it like they hoped. Like the small droplets of sugar Elias had been adding into his black mug, he hadn't been able to before, looking into its longing darkness. He and Merrick, smiled, trying not to think about the chances, drinking cheerfully from the dipping edges, only if the couch were clear, the two would have themselves a regular morning. But every morning can't be regular, can it?