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Resisting the urge to roll her shoulder, Viper inhales a sharp and quiet breath through her teeth.
Jett glances at her, likely believing that she's being subtle about it, which she most certainly isn't. Then again, perhaps another agent would have missed the quick darting of Jett's eyes—just not Viper. In any case, she doesn't press the issue. As Viper hoped, it seems that she passed the sound off as merely another mechanical hiss of air from her mask. That, or she's smart enough not to pry.
Considering the day's events, Viper quite sincerely doubts the latter option. She knew that Jett's recklessness was going to come back to bite them at some point. The fact that it worked out the first time was a fluke and nothing more, and it was only a matter of time before things went south.
She just didn't expect south to be a bullet to her jaw.
At least now Liam can't say I'm too paranoid, she thinks, remembering all the times he's teased her for wearing her mask the moment she's in range of a potential battlefield. The thought almost brings a smile to her face, but she's entirely too exhausted for even that.
They were lucky. Lucky that she was watching Jett's back not once but twice, lucky that she was wearing her mask, lucky that she built it to withstand a bullet in the first place. That's all it comes down to: luck.
The knowledge burns through Viper's chest, making each breath just a bit harder to take. Her grip on the bar above her head tightens. She loathes leaving things up to luck. Their success should have been a result of hard work and skill alone, but Jett squandered that the moment she decided Sova was taking too long to collect info and thoughtlessly dashed onto site.
It's all Viper can do not to tear into Jett for the lapse in judgment. She should, and usually, she would. But she saw Jett's expression as Omen helped her back to the Vulture, bearing what was probably over half of her body weight until she could fully walk on her own again.
Jett looked…shaken. Viper knows it all too well, the guilt that had filled Jett's eyes, the fear that had her hands shaking as she reached out only to be stopped by Sova. It was shocking, in a way, to see such emotion on display for Viper's sake. Seeing the state Neon was in was equally surprising. In that moment, the two of them just looked like frightened children.
So, despite her better judgment, Viper did not—and will not—scold Jett. It may end up being yet another bad decision of the day, but at least for the time being, as far as she's concerned? Jett has learned her lesson. Neon likely has as well, or so Viper hopes.
The Vulture experiences a bit of turbulence, and she fights to hide her wince as her head is jerked to the side slightly, causing a sharp bolt of pain to lace up her shoulders and neck. If Jett's concerned gaze on her is any indication, she wasn't so successful this time around.
"Viper?" she says, all unease and tentativeness behind the forced neutrality of her expression. "Everything good?"
Aside from the fact I nearly kissed a bullet half an hour ago, just peachy, Viper wants to snark. Instead, she nods shortly and affirms, "Fine."
Jett hesitates, glancing away and then back again. The hand holding her rifle is white-knuckled with the strength of her grip. "Are you—?"
"I'm perfectly capable of leading today's final assignment, if that's what has you so concerned," Viper cuts in, voice hard. She's edging too close to scolding territory, isn't she? Damn. True to Viper's earlier theory, the moment Jett registers the steel in her words, she backs down, swallowing hard.
After a long moment, she offers a nod, but Viper can see the reluctance in it. She sighs heavily, wondering why she even bothers. Old habits die hard, she supposes. "I will see Sage once we get back to base," she offers, softer this time, "and you will follow orders from now on. Deal?"
"Deal." Jett would benefit from some acting classes, Viper can't help but think as she takes in the loosening of Jett's shoulders and the barely-restrained relief painting her expression. At least she won't have to put up with the duelist's kicked-puppy eyes for the rest of the evening.
The only issue is that now she has to see Sage when they return. Viper narrows her eyes. She can already picture the worry and hypocritical irritation that she'll inevitably have to face when Sage learns of the mission's events. What fun that'll be.
When she turns slightly, she catches Omen staring at her from his seat nearest to the Vulture's open door. He likely heard everything, because that's just Viper's luck. She isn't sure where they stand, not really, but when she sighs, "Oh, shut up," he huffs something that might be a laugh.
Things could be worse.
Worse. This is definitely worse. Have HQ's halls always been this painfully bright?
Viper considers shutting her eyes, but with how heavy her entire body feels, that seems like a particularly bad idea. She settles for covering her eyes with one hand, trying her best to absorb the coolness of the wall against her back. The temperature feels nice against her aching head and muscles, but the longer she leans against the wall, the more she dreads having to stand up straight again.
Initially, she'd wanted to collect herself for a moment before seeing Sage. The last thing she wants to deal with is Sage fussing over her or scolding her when her head has already been killing her for the last hour, so she figured gathering her wits couldn't hurt.
That was a few minutes ago, she thinks. Not that the guess holds any real weight—thinking is a tad difficult at the moment. Frustratingly so. Unfortunately, though, Viper can't spend the rest of the night wallowing in self-pity. She has work to do.
Sucking in a deep breath, she pushes off the wall, settling the entirety of her weight back on her feet. A wave of vertigo hits her so strongly that she's almost immediately putting a hand against the wall in an effort not to pitch to the side, but Viper refuses to fully yield. After the wave passes, she slowly straightens, reassembling her composure. She kept herself together long enough to evade her team's concern, and she refuses to slip up now in front of Sage.
With that taken care of, she strides into the infirmary with her head held high. Perhaps not quite as high as usual, thanks to the persistent pain in her neck and shoulders, but Sage won't notice that.
Surprisingly, Sage doesn't immediately notice her presence, instead thoroughly immersed in whatever documents she's reading at her desk. Viper can't quite remember what she could be tasked with looking over at the moment, but she shakes the train of thought off easily, quietly clearing her throat. She regrets it somewhat when nausea crawls up her throat and squeezes.
Sage briefly glances up at her, but Viper can tell she hasn't fully taken her attention off of the papers in her hands. "Viper! I heard your mission today went well," she comments, smiling as her eyes continue scanning the documents. Viper has never been more thankful for her pleasant soft-spoken way of talking. "What can I do for you?"
Huffing in dry amusement, Viper says, "It was successful, yes." She blinks hard against the room's bright lights, but it helps neither her headache nor her slightly blurred vision. Great. "I told Jett that I would see you if she agreed to actually listen to orders going forward, so here I am."
That gets her attention. A slight knit forms in Sage's brow, and she finally sets the papers down, giving Viper her undivided attention. Her eyes widen within half a second as she takes in the blood and scrapes on Viper's face. She's on her feet between one blink and the next.
"S- Viper!" Urgency presses at her voice, pushing it to be just that much louder. It grates on Viper's ears. "Please, sit down. What happened?"
"Calm down," Viper admonishes, though her heart isn't in it. Neither is her mind—that is entirely occupied with the conscious effort of not swaying on her feet or wincing as she walks to the nearest bed and takes a seat.
Sage narrows her eyes, standing in between Viper's legs and inspecting the damage. Inefficient. If she just healed her already then they could be done with all this much sooner. Sage takes Viper's face in her hands and gently turns her head this way and that. For a split-second, Viper is able to enjoy the cool softness of her hands. And then, despite Sage's feather-light touch, Viper's vision nearly whites out at the pain, and she just barely manages not to cry out. "Well?"
What? Oh. "Just Jett's typical brand of recklessness. She was too impatient to push, so she dashed in with hardly any info."
"And?" Sage prompts, looking over Viper's body to see if she's carrying any visible injuries aside from the scrapes on her face. Viper's skin seems to buzz pleasantly under the attention—Viper tells herself it's just the pain getting to her.
"I had to scramble to cover her back," she manages, breathing very, very carefully through the pulsing ache in her skull. At least Sage isn't moving her head around anymore. "Their Yoru had a gun pointed at her head, and even Jett wouldn't have been fast enough to do a full one-eighty before he pulled the trigger."
Sage pauses in her assessment, worry bright in her brown eyes. Brown eyes; they're always so disgustingly emotive, and Sage's are doubly so. Always wearing her heart on her sleeve, in the depth of her gaze. Not like Viper's own, thank god. "I trust you took care of it?"
"Well you don't see Jett on a stretcher, do you?" Viper snaps. …Shit, she thinks aptly, gritting her teeth. Of all the reasons she has to be cold to Sage, this certainly isn't one of them. She tries again. "Yes, I took care of it. Jett wasn't injured at all, or you'd be talking to her right now instead of me."
For a moment, Sage just stares at her with a complicated look. Viper wonders if she'd be able to read it if not for the lack of focus in her vision and the slight fog in her mind. Eventually, Sage shakes her head. "Okay. And then?"
Viper gives up on looking up at her entirely, too overwhelmed with pain to consider the position worth it any longer. Instead she stares a hole through wall opposite her. "I gave away my position to take him out, so naturally I drew the enemy's attention." Is Sage even doing anything anymore? Is this proximity really necessary? "Their Cypher shot me."
"What?" Viper fails to contain her wince at the sudden jump in volume, and the pain is only magnified as Sage gently takes her by the shoulders to look her over yet again. Viper knows the action is gentle, because Sage is gentle with every patient, has always been gentle with her regardless of how callous she's been in return—but right now it feels anything but. "Where—"
"Stop," Viper groans, finally giving into the instinct to shut her eyes. Her perfect posture gives way to an exhausted slump as she leans forward. Irrational, yet some part of her hopes that being smaller might lessen the pain as well. "Please."
If her first request hadn't done the trick, that certainly did. Sage freezes instantaneously, and when she speaks again her voice is the softest Viper's ever heard it. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. Always so genuine. Viper wants to– "Where are you injured?"
She exhales a trembling breath, swallowing past yet another surge of nausea before she responds. Her mouth still tastes like blood. "The bullet hit my mask. Didn't do much more damage than what you're looking at, aside from some whiplash and possibly a concussion. And…bleeding. Somewhere."
"Didn't do much more damage?" Sage repeats incredulously, but still so, so carefully quiet. The sound is like music to Viper's ears. Like this, her eyes closed and head bowed, with Sage blocking out a good amount of light, the bright lights of HQ finally feel like they aren't stabbing straight through her eyes and into her brain anymore. "Sabine, this is serious. Were you just carrying on like nothing happened for the rest of your mission? Did you even tell any of them how much pain you were in?"
"It wasn't this bad," Viper argues half-heartedly. She doesn't even have the energy to care about Sage's slip up. She just wants the pain gone. "Jett needed me. And I'd be in a lot less pain if you shut up and healed me already."
Obediently, Sage lifts a hand to her head and begins healing her, but not without retorting, "You'd already be healed if you told me how injured you were from the start."
A fair point, not that Viper would admit it. She's so tired. "I thought I could…sleep it off, maybe."
"Liar. You're smarter than that." Sage's hand is downright cold, now, as it glows with radiance at her temple. It feels heavenly. Her other hand is trailing slowly down Viper's back, likely because Sage isn't sure where the source of the bleeding is.
"Ever consider that maybe I just don't need or want your help?" Viper mutters, her eyes fluttering open. She looks up at Sage, a much easier feat now that her neck has been healed. Sage's face is clearer, now, too. She's frowning, looking down at Viper with thinly veiled exasperation, but even now her concern still prevails.
"Really?" she shoots back. "Because I could have sworn that I just heard you say you wanted to be healed. But if I was mistaken—" Sage takes both hands off of her, removing their relieving coolness, and Viper isn't sure which of them is more shocked when she snatches Sage's hand out of the air and presses it back to her temple.
"Don't you dare," she hisses. Sage blinks at her once, twice, before laughing quietly. Viper's grip on her slackens as Sage readjusts her hand to the back of Viper's head, carefully pulling her in so that Viper's forehead is resting against the soft skin of her stomach. She resumes healing her immediately, and her other hand resumes its previous task as well. Viper tries and fails to hide her shudder.
Everything feels clearer now, even as Viper feels fatigue continue to weigh her down. She hadn't even realized her ears were ringing until they aren't anymore, and slowly but surely, the pain that had been lacing through her upper back and shoulders dissipates as well. Her nausea finally eases too, to her immense relief.
"Thank you," comes Sage's voice from above her. Viper hums inquisitively, feeling herself drift a little without the pain to ground her. "For protecting her."
"It's my job to minimize casualties," she argues, leaning into Sage just a bit more. Sage clicks her tongue with a sigh.
"It's your job to make sure the mission is accomplished." Viper can practically hear the smile in her voice as she continues, "And you were injured badly. No one would have blamed you if you stayed down and let them handle the rest. But you didn't."
Viper scowls. "Of course not. I could still function well enough, and I certainly didn't trust the others to succeed without my—"
"You said Jett needed you," Sage points out warmly. Viper falls silent. She did, didn't she? "That's why you pushed through, is it not?"
Withdrawing from Sage's hold, Viper lifts her head and glares. Sage has the gall to keep a hand on her chin as she does so, and it only incenses her further. She has nothing to say about this, especially to Sage of all people. "Don't talk like you know me."
Sage tips her head to one side, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Don't I?"
Viper should snap at her. First the proximity, then the name slip up, now the assumptions—who does Sage think she is? Where does she get off on making Viper look weak? Any other day, she would've snapped easily. Today should be no exception.
Except that maybe she did push through just to make sure Jett was okay, because the thought of any of those kids dying on her watch makes her sick to her stomach. Except that maybe she is a bit weak. Except that maybe Sage does know her, or knows more of her than she was ever meant to. Except that maybe she's tired, and she wants to kiss that infuriating smile off of Sage's face.
She doesn't snap. She doesn't kiss Sage, either. Instead Viper just sits there and holds Sage's tender gaze, breathing deep and steady. She doesn't answer, but she has a feeling that Sage was never waiting for one.
"Thank you, Sabine," she says again, brushing her thumb over Viper's chin and dangerously close to her lip. There's something longing and pained in the tightness around her eyes and the curve of that damned smile. Always so genuine. "Get some rest."
And then she's stepping back, flashing one last smile at Viper before exiting the room. To do what, Viper has no clue. Maybe she's going to bother Jett, now. It doesn't really matter.
She's the worst. Viper pinches the bridge of her nose, gritting her teeth against the stubborn warmth in her chest and fluttering in her stomach.
"…Damn it," she mutters, standing up. She has work to get done, anyway.