Work Text:
May 14, 2018 - Portland, 06:51 hours
I met him at a coffee shop. I mean how basic is that, a coffee shop of all places?
Yancy just walked in like he had no care in the world. I was so sleep deprived from my shift that I didn’t even recognize him. We had a Kaiju attack last night, category III by the level of destruction and when the man walks in that saved all of our asses, I drench his pristine white shirt with the contents of my cup. To be fair, he has a quiet step. Had.
Anyway, we're both standing there, covered in coffee and the first thing he drawls is, “Careful, sugar.”
I mean how could I not fall for him?
And before I know it Raleigh storms in, laughing his ass off when he sees us. For the next three minutes I'm as embarrassed as I have ever been, beet red and mumbling apologies, much to their shared amusement.
“Hey it's fine, really,” Yancy cuts me off eventually. “Just coffee.”
“But that's never going to wash out and I'll…I..fuck.”
Raleigh throws me another shit-eating grin and playfully jabs his brother in the ribs. Well, as playful as it gets. It's only then that I identify them as Jaeger pilots, the way they're so in sync, holding whole conversations with nothing more than a brief look.
I groan. “This is the worst day of my life. Guys I'm so so sorry and thank you for-”
“Oh please, let us be normal people for a day. I'm Yancy.”
He holds his hand out and I take it; he has a strong handshake, as expected.
“Liv.”
“And this violent little creature here is my baby brother Raleigh.”
“Watch it, old man.”
We too shake hands. With a meaningful wink, Raleigh heads for the counter to order; which I offer to pay for, but they won't let me.
“So, Liv, I take it you work nights?”
“That obvious?”
I'm suddenly aware of my slightly greasy hair that sits on top of my head like a bird's nest and the dark circles under my eyes. Judging by his own, he won't mind.
“That obvious indeed.”
We sit down at a cramped corner table. The chairs are bright green and uncomfortable, but I don't have it in me to walk away. He's handsome in the way most military men are, straight posture, neat short haircut, muscled forearms my eyes always seem to wander back to.
“I'm a nurse,” I answer a little late and Yancy chuckles.
“ICU?”
“Yeah. Good guess.”
“Thanks.”
The silence stretches and I'm not sure it's fine to ask until he raises one eyebrow in challenge. I give in.
“So, what's it like?”
He sighs.
“The Jaeger?” I almost jump out of my seat when Raleigh answers right behind me. “It's the best fucking feeling. Ever.”
“Like flying,” Yancy adds, taking one of the three paper cups. “But you're the one doing all the movements. It’s-”
A loud ring cuts him off too soon, not unlike my pager sound. They both frantically dig around in their pockets to turn the little devices off and I fight to stifle my disappointment. Raleigh gets it first.
“Another debrief? Seriously?”
“Quit bitching,” Yancy huffs.
Even after he silences his pager, he keeps searching until he pulls a sleek black phone out, no doubt to call his boss.
“Don't let me keep you. It was nice meeting you.”
“See ya,” Raleigh chimes, disappearing as fast as he came.
Yancy lingers. My heart stops when he holds his screen up to my face and I see my name in a new contact mask. The number's still missing.
“I don't blame you if you say no. I won't be around much longer, at least not here and..well, let's say I'm not exactly easy.”
“Would you call me?”
Our eyes meet. I feel my face heat up again at the sheer intensity of his gaze and for a second I feel like I’m floating a few inches over the cushions.
“Yes.”
I take the phone and type my number in. Yancy grins over both ears, raising his coffee in a mock salute.
Way to soon he's gone. I sit there for another hour, ignoring the incredulous looks of the barista and wonder what I have gotten myself into.
August 26, 2018 - Alaska, 13:25 hours
I end up flying to Alaska to see Yancy again. It's a fight to the bone until I get a full three weeks off, but I refuse to pull the Jaeger card and tell the others who it is I'm always calling. He asked me to keep it secret and I will.
When I finally arrive at the Ted Stevens Airport, the first thing I notice is the vibrancy. There's colored tiles and pictures everywhere, mostly a wide array of animals and even though Yancy warned me, I'm not fully prepared. Other than that, Anchorage is filled with the usual buzz of a big city, not much different from Portland, albeit a bit colder. I'm optimistic it'll grow on me.
My mother says it's madness, that I'm falling for a guy I almost exclusively know over long phone calls at odd hours, but there's something about him that I can't give up. Maybe it's the way he always goes for what he wants. His personality is steady, even now, when civilization is quite literally crumbling and there's always quiet reassurance in his words that he's not tired of me, that he misses me as much as I miss him.
Yancy comes to pick me up himself. We hug and I smell wood on his fleece jacket, along with his crisp aftershave, a mixture so intoxicating I never want to let go. He pulls me even closer.
In my head, I have a plan to go to this romantic restaurant I looked up online before we move on to a shabby bar, talking about comics, movies and the state of things, huddling closer until I eventually find the courage to confess my feelings; Yancy ruins everything when he softly tilts my head up and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. My heart beats like a hummingbird inside my chest.
I'm too stunned to reciprocate though and he pulls away, a deep frown is etched into his features. When he speaks, his voice is thick.
“I'm sorry,” Yancy mumbles. “I…I guess I miscalculated..”
“Shut up.”
This time, I kiss him back. My body is electric, never close enough although there's no space between us and I can't help but ruffle through the short hair on his neck. We break apart after blissful eternity and I catch him grinning like a schoolboy.
His blue eyes draw me in. Deep in my bones, something settles and I just know he's mine like I know the sky goes dark at night.
Later that day, Raleigh meets us at their childhood home. I know they usually stay in the Icebox as they call it, in case there's an emergency, but since I'm neither related to someone at the base nor military, I'm not allowed to enter. Apparently it's easier to fly them in by chopper.
“You’re official,” he greets smugly. “Congrats, Yance.”
Yancy promptly grimaces. I see him blushing and it's infectious, because when Raleigh saunters out into the kitchen, we're both bright red.
I half expect him to follow up with another comment, but to my great surprise Raleigh just comes back, puts a hand on Yancy’s shoulder and says earnestly, “We're cool, okay? This isn't Noemi.”
I can't help but ask. “Who's Noemi?”
The look they trade speaks volumes. In the end I get a half assed explanation about some girl they met during training, a journalist, that almost got them kicked out of the Jaeger academy for fighting over her. We quickly let the subject drop.
Instead, they walk me through the Drift over a typical Alaskan dinner as I'm told, halibut and chips.
“In a way, you're dating both of us,” Yancy explains, stealing a fry from my plate, “because the Drift means we share memories, emotions, everything that's dear to us. Pure empathy.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” Raleigh confirms.
“Oh dear.”
They laugh in sync. I guess that's something I'll just have to get used to, that it will sometimes feel like they're extensions of each other, sensitive to things I can't begin to understand.
“Guess I should be grateful you're brothers then. I mean the thought alone of Drifting with my mother is…ugh, you get it.”
“Oh God,” Yancy groans. ”Imagine…”
There it is again, a silent conversation at light speed.
Raleigh shakes his head. “Absolutely not, if we ever meet the Hansen's you're asking.”
“Pfft, as if.”
“Um, guys?”
“Sorry,” they answer in unison.
Over the next few days, I learn a whole lot more. Things settle down. Raleigh really is the wild one of the two, impulsive, always up and doing something while Yancy is content with reading comics all day long. He's a huge geek and my heart melts every time he goes into a detailed analysis about a particular superhero. Currently, it's Thor. And Jane Foster, Ultimate Thor, Volstagg…you get the picture.
During my stay, they're deployed once. A backup mission near Peru. I'm glued to the TV, praying neither of them get hurt and thankfully they don't, clinging to each other even more than usual when they come back.
I'm just glad they're safe.
December 8, 2018 - Portland, 05:32 hours
“You're not going to believe what just happened,” I squeal into my phone as soon as Yancy picks up.
He sounds sleepy, but that's hardly relevant now when I'm so full of energy I feel like I'll go up in flames and even if he's tired, he’s the one person who needs to know. Right now.
“What is it, love?”
“I have a job offer. For Alaska.”
I can almost feel him sit up in his bunk, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
“What do you mean Alaska?”
“The Shatterdome! They asked if I'd be interested in joining the med department and I...” A thought crosses my mind and suddenly my chest feels heavy. “I..wonder if you'd want me there?”
Only after I said it, my anxiety flares up. What if it's too soon? Or to much of a commitment, since I'm basically moving in with him? It's his world and the longer he stays silent, the more I feel like an intruder.
In the background, Raleigh yawns. “Don't be a dick, Yance. Just-”
“Shut up, Rals.”
I'm not sure what to make of this, but there's something in his voice that keeps me hopeful. I hear his heavy breathing and brace myself. Yancy swallows hard.
“You'd really give up family for me?”
It hits me like a brick that his mother died early, how his father left and Jazmine, his little sister disappeared with him. Apart from Raleigh, there's no one left. From his point of view it probably looks like I'm laying down my life and the more I think about it, the better it sounds. I want this. Him.
“I hope you'll be family someday.”
Sounds cheesy, but it's true.
“No listen, Liv, you have to think this through. This decision it's not something you make impulsively at..what, 4 am? Please-”
“Yancy,” I say sharply, “I want to be with you, no matter what. Say the word and I'll come.”
For a devastating moment he says nothing. Right as my fingernails start digging painfully into my palms, he sighs.
“Okay.”
That's all it takes to knock the air out of my lungs. The extasy is back and I jump up from my bed, dancing around the room like a maniac, unable to sit still.
“Careful,” Yancy chuckles, “don't want you getting hurt, sugar.”
“Don't you dare die on me now, I swear I'll bring you back and take you out myself.”
“I'll watch him,” Raleigh cuts in.
“Yeah you do that. Keep your word and I'll bring chocolate cake, as much as you want.”
The line goes quiet for a while. I hear the shuffling of bodies and bedsheets and when he answers, his voice is a little louder. Definitely intrigued.
“Self-made?”
“You bet.”
For the next three weeks I'm unable to wipe the cocky grin off my face.
April 4, 2019 - Alaska, 06:50 hours
I'm in the commissary, dozing over my coffee when two overeager Jaeger pilots drop on either side of me.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Yancy smiles.
He takes my hand and gently kisses it while Raleigh bumps into my shoulder. Ever since I'm here, we've become much closer. Friends, I think and on the verge of family, a connection strengthened by the Drift. Maybe it's because I brought him cake.
Yancy said he tries to keep him out, but it's next to impossible, especially after we started sleeping with each other. I think his random winks and whistles are a small price to pay though, because I get to keep his brother, almost to myself.
“What shenanigans are you two up to this early in the morning?”
It's still dark and my shift starts in ten minutes. I'm sore, irritated and still half asleep, but the way Yancy looks at me is grounding. Turns out herding a bunch of techies is more exhausting than I thought.
“Training,” he explains. “Pentecost says we're getting lazy, hanging around with pretty women all day long.”
Against my will, I blush.
Raleigh rubs his neck, just a little too rough and it's clear he thinks we're terrible, effectively souring his good mood.
“See you on the mat, old man,” he jokes.
The smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. My conscience gets to me when he practically flees and I can't help but feel guilty in every way there is. Their survival quite literally depends on being close, on trust I can't help shaking up it seems.
“He'll get around, don't worry.”
“And if he doesn't? If I get between you and you lose and-'”
“Liv. Stop.”
He cups my face and forces me to look into his stormy blue eyes. There's a clarity I find addicting, depth beyond the confines of one mind.
“My brother envies us sometimes and it's okay. We talk about it. There's days he can't let go, like today, and goes to have a drink with Tendo, but by the next Drift he knows how much I love you both. That I would never leave him.”
“Promise me something.”
Yancy raises an eyebrow. “Like?”
“If you ever have to prioritize, Raleigh comes first.”
“Livia. I won-”
“Promise me.”
We stare each other down for a long moment. I'm not ready to back down, because even though Raleigh's a tough guy, there's a sensitive side that doesn't take rejection well. I know I'll be fine - Yancy loves me and that's all I need. When he sighs and presses a kiss to my forehead, I know I have won.
“Fine. But that changes nothing between us, ‘kay? I don't want you to feel secondary…”
“You love what you do. I've made my peace with it and you know what?” I lean in closer, lips brushing over his cheek. “It's so damn sexy.”
He takes the flirt immediately. “Really?”
“Mhmm. All that superhero business, it looks good on you.”
“God, I love you woman. See you after dinner?”
“I thought they're taking the Gipsy apart? You said you haven't seen the reactor in ages.”
Before I came here, I wasn't too interested in huge killer robots, but after spending so much time with engineers and nerds it's inevitable to develop a certain fascination. Especially when you have one standing in your yard that's sometimes remote controlled by your boyfriend. Yancy rolls his eyes.
“After.”
“Done.”
I start to get up, reaching for my mug. He snatches me around the waist and pulls me back into his lap, stealing a bunch of kisses as he goes. I can't help but grin.
“I love you too. Take care, yeah?”
“Promise.”
Despite my best efforts, I end up being late for work. In retrospect, it's worth it.
February 29, 2020 - Alaska, 05:15 hours
I wake up early, startled by a nightmare I can't remember. There's been an alarm for Gypsy, but that can't be it, because I usually fall asleep soon after the sirens stop - not much I can do anyway and so far the boys were always fine. Today I'm drenched in cold sweat though and by the time I shower and hunt down breakfast, my pulse is still drumming in my ears.
Something's wrong. I can't pinpoint it exactly, maybe I'm just catching a cold or overreacting, but the hallways are strangely empty and there's a gloomy silence hanging all over the base.
Then I see Tendo Choi, alone at his table and crying into a half-eaten bowl of cereal. He looks up, sees me and starts crying even harder.
The ground sways underneath my feet. Yancy's fine, he has to be, merely stuck in a lengthy debrief because Raleigh pulled some stupid shit again. I can almost see them strut through the doorway in their matching leather jackets, matching grins plastered to their faces. Alive.
My vision blurs and I just know. They're gone.
In trance, I put my tray down next to Tendo. I can't tell wether I'm crying or not, or even breathing. All I know is that someone, very slowly tears my heart to shreds until there's nothing left but pain.
“They took it out,” Tendo croaks eventually, “a category III. Raleigh shot it down, before…well, b-before…”
His voice breaks off and he needs several deep breaths before he's able to continue.
“Jaeger must've washed up somewhere on the shore. We're not getting vitals though.”
I can't answer, only nod. If I tried to talk, nothing would come out besides a sob and once I start I won't be able to stop myself for a long time.
We sit there, lost in our respective grief when one of the assistant controllers storms in, eyes wide and out of breath. She stumbles, almost crashing into our table with full force. Without catching her breath, she starts to explain.
“They…it's….the Gipsy. Someone…found it. Ranger confirmed…vitals...”
My head jerks up.
“Are you saying they're alive?”
She shakes her head, then nods. “One survivor.”
Again, my world stands still. Tendo and I exchange a look, then both of us are up and running. My lungs burn and black dots jumble through my vision, but it hardly matters if there's something left to save. Fixing people is my job - whoever of the two survived, I need to be there, asap.
On instinct, I follow Choi into the command center where Marshal Stacker Pentecost is already yelling into a phone. It's my best shot at getting more info.
“I don't care how many hawks you send, as long as you get him. Now.”
He slams the reciever down, then gestures for us to come closer. More and more people come crowding in, no doubt having heard the news.
Pentecost gets straight to the point, as usual. “Here's what we know: One survivor, found and confirmed by civilians. It's likely Raleigh Becket, there's choppers out to get him at this very moment. We don't know what state he's in. Choi, your team coordinates recovery, the rest of you stay on their posts and wait for further orders.”
I never thought that military bluntness would soothe me one day, but it does. I'm about to turn away when the Marshal makes eye contact.
“Bay 9.”
It's all he says and all that's necessary to know where I'm needed. This time, I settle for a light jog instead of sprinting, automatically turning corners until the bay looms up ahead of me. My mind is blissfully empty.
For the next twelve minutes we wait. Mike, the surgeon on duty taps his foot in anticipation while the other members of the emergency team check their equipment over and over while I pace from wall too wall.
It's agony. I grow more worried by the second that they ran into complications, that he won't make it after all. That whoever survived will be comatose, doomed to never wake up. The warnings of my crew to stay out of their way fly past me, until Mike gently taps my shoulder.
He's cut off by the rotors.
We all jump into action, bracing ourselves against the wind when the doors open and reveal two soldiers, carrying a man out of the helicopter. He's strapped to a spineboard and pieces of the Ranger armor clatter in the wind, mostly cut off save for a few leg pieces.
Underneath the blood, I recognize Raleigh. I'm sure he's sedated at first, with his glassy eyes and abysmally low blood pressure…until his hand darts out to grab my wrist.
The others rattle down their usual points for patient transfer; all I do is run along and hold on to Raleigh's hand.
“Yancy,” he mumbles.
I ignore the way my chest aches. I'm there when he gets one IV infusion after the other, when they sew his numerous cuts and finally release him into the land of dreams. I'm also there when he wakes up again, slowly blinking up at me with hazy eyes.
Physically, he's stable, save for a few neurological deficits that come with piloting a Jaeger on your own, but that's not it. One look into his eyes tells me something broke.
“Yancy,” Raleigh croaks again.
The others told me he was still connected when his brother died. Still in the Drift, able to feel everything.
“I'm here,” I say and for a moment his eyes lose their glassy sheen.
I'll never forget the way he looked up, so torn between love and pain that it almost felt surreal. Suddenly, I'm convinced it's Yancy staring back at me.
Our hands intertwine on their own. The moment passes, but I'm unable to let go. Raleigh’s sobbing now, holding on to my hand like a lifeline until I eventually crawl into his bed, squeezing him so tight it hurts.
I let my own tears loose. It's how Pentecost finds us, several hours later. He smiles a sad smile, before he gently shuts the door.
March 15, 2020 - Alaska, 14:27 hours
Raleigh is gone and this time it's for good. Ever since he's off the opiates, he refuses to look at me because I remind him too much of his brother. The memory's too painful.
I can't imagine what he's going through and he won't let me in, building walls around his psyche with all his might. Sunken in my own grief, I let him.
In truth, I'm relieved there's some distance between us, that I can't be mad at Raleigh for surviving when his brother didn't. He's dealing with that anyway.
Unlike Tendo or the Marshal, I don't blame him for leaving either, only fake his signature on the necessary documents and sign the psych evaluation so he won't face military trial for desertion on top of everything else.
He doesn't leave a note. When I finally find the courage to step into their old room, the pictures are missing, just like a bunch of other necessities. No more than a large bag. It's strange to see it all so blank, to think that this half-empty room is all that's left.
I'm about to turn away, when I see a lonley photograph hanging on the far right wall. It's me and Yancy on New Year's eve, sunken into a deep kiss. I remember the fireworks like it was yesterday, the cold he pushed out when he held me in his arms and kissed me like there's no tomorrow. Now, all I'll cuddle is an empty grave.
My knees give in. For another hour I sit on the cold hard ground and stare into nothingness, forced to deal with all the fact that I will never touch his face again.
March 21, 2023 - Alaska, 09:12 hours
So many times, I contemplated leaving…in the end I didn't have the guts.
The Jaeger programm’s still running and they still need nurses to treat the army of technicians, working day and night to keep it functional, along with the occasional Ranger. I'm not blind to the numbers though. I know we're slowly losing, and not just funds, but people all over the globe.
Four years ago, I may have joined the PPDC for Yancy and while I still miss him, the Alaska team made sure to catch me. They quite literally saved my life and somewhere along the way, his cause became mine. Damn superhero business.
If you haven't guessed it, I'm not overly enthusiastic lately. I push the stretcher through the impossibly wide loading bay, careful to avoid collisions with the endless streams of forklifts. My colleague Nico and I were called because - drumroll - someone got hurt. Mild trauma apparently, but we don't know much more.
On the way, I see yet another delivery, something that looks suspiciously like a Jaeger foot. They're coming on and off and I've been hearing rumors that the Icebox was selected to host a new project, but until recently it was just that, rumors.
“What you think they're building?” Nico asks.
He's Canadian, oozing with a reserved politeness that might get him far one day if he has half a mind to climb the ranks.
I shrug. “Dunno. I mean it looks like a Jaeger, but you can never be too sure.”
“Guess you're right.” He looks around, then straightens marginally, eyes fixed on a point ahead. “Oop, I think I see our patient.”
Really, there's a half-high crate ahead and on top of it I spot a pale man of about 30. He grimaces, more so when he sees us and clutches his right foot.
I take his vitals and prepare some painkillers while Nico talks to him, needing a solid minute until the techie drops his hands. His ankle is obviously fractured, judging by the literal stairwell he has on his leg. Apart from that he seems to be fine though and while we load him up, I get distracted.
Apparently the new batch consists of more than just machinery. Right there in the bay, a woman struts through the chaos, Asian and most definitely too young to be in command, although her uniform suggests otherwise. She cradles a clipboard in her arms, occasionally scribbling something down.
“Liv?” Nico rips me out of my observations. “Ready?”
“Yeah, sure. Let's go.”
We walk away, but my thoughts always drift back to her until I finally give in.
“Hey, uh, have you seen that woman? With the clipboard?”
“Yesss, why?”
“You know who she is?”
Nico shrugs, but to my surprise our patient joins the conversation. He's a bit dazed though.
“That's Mako Mori. She's our supervisor for the Mark III restoration project.”
“Wait they're bringing Mark-3 Jaegers back?” I'm all nerves now, yet unsure wether it's panic or excitement. “Like..like the…”
“That's right, were fixing the old lady. Man, I wish I could've seen her in action, back in the day.”
He brabbles on, but I don't listen anymore. Clearly, he has no clue who I am, most of the newbies don't, and when we arrive at the sick bay, I feel light. They're really bringing back the Gipsy Danger.
October 3, 2024 - Alaska, 17:30 hours
My life is stacked in little boxes. We're packing and even though the base should’ve been closed by now, the two extra weeks we have won't matter much.
Pentecost let something slip that other Shatterdomes will follow, now that the Wall project is gaining more and more traction. Somewhere in Sitka, Raleigh is among the poor construction workers.
Naturally, I kept tabs on him, although we haven't spoken since he left. The first two years I sent him birthday cards and then stopped when I figured he won't come around anytime soon. Maybe never, but I can't afford to wait that long.
I'm supposed to leave next Saturday, together with most of the other staff. Save for a selected few of course. Tendo told me he's going to Hong Kong, that Pentecost offered him to keep his old position in the local command center and while I'm happy for him, I'm not sure what's next. Maybe I'll go home. I think it's about time.
“Livia Morrison, report to LOCCENT immediately. I repeat, Livia Morrison report to LOCCENT.”
That's new. I set my stack of boxes down and blink up at the speaker. What could they possibly want, now of all times? Surely if they needed a medic, they'd alert me via pager and most definitely not by name.
“Livy, move.”
Unmistakeably Tendo Choi, the one and only. Must be important if they're calling me like that and I decide I better hurry up. There's not much to do besides cleanup, so I usually wear the standard issue dark blue overall and right now I'm glad, because when I step through the wide glass doors, none other than Stacker Pentecost himself awaits me. By his side, Mako Mori bows politely. I notice she dyed the tips of her hair blue, although it could use a little more vibrancy in my opinion.
“Miss Morrison,” the Marshal greets. “I trust you're holding up?”
“Yes, Sir. Can't complain.”
He chuckles. “That's good. Please, come with me.”
I follow him to the elevators, accompanied my Miss Mori. We never talked much and I'm uneasy since they're both so much further up in the hierarchy than I am, leading operations and programs I can't even begin to imagine.
It can only mean that A, something happened or B, Yancy is involved. Or even worse, Raleigh is in trouble and still has me listed as emergency contact. I wring my hands behind my back, fighting the urge to shift my weight around. The tension is almost palpable.
“Relax,” Pentecost orders with out looking. “You're not in trouble. On the contrary.”
Somehow that's worse. With Gipsy Danger good as new and no Ranger in sight to pilot it, I can imagine what he wants to talk about and I can't say I like it.
“Respectfully, Sir…if he's involved there's always trouble.”
We reach the Marshal's office. He motions for me to sit down and takes his place behind the desk while Miss Mori takes the chair to my right, a simple design made almost entirely of aluminum. In fact, the whole room is grey and unadorned, not that I expected much.
Pentecost carefully folds his hands, before he looks at me. I automatically fix my posture.
“You’re right to assume that this is about Raleigh Becket. We want him back.”
“I figured. There's not that many other retired Jaeger pilots.”
“He's the only one in fact, who's still able to step inside the cockpit and make it out alive. With Gipsy Danger almost functional, all we need is him and a copilot.”
“And there's no other option?”
He sighs. “I'll be brutally honest with you: With our funds cut, graduation rates at an all-time low and no more than six Jaegers left, we can't afford to put two rookies behind the wheel and hope for the best. We need skill and experience. Becket has both.”
“Sounds like you made up your mind already.” I suddenly remember who I'm talking to and respectfully add, “Sir.”
Miss Mori tilts her head. “The problem is not finding him, it's getting him on board.”
“And he won't come back because you tell him to. That Drift has crippled him. Raleigh left for a reason…”
“And we're well aware of that.”
Pentecost and Miss Mori share a look. They're closer than just colleagues, I can tell, but only when I see the way she looks to him for guidance do I figure out what he sees. A daughter, what else?
“How do we stabilize him?” the Marshal asks.
I take my time to think about it. From what I know, Raleigh has never been truly alone until Yancy died and it inevitably did some damage. Humans are social creatues, Rangers doubly so.
“He might stay for the right person. Get the copilot and you get him.”
Miss Mori frowns, sceptically eyeing me up and down.
“You said he will not want to Drift again.”
“I said it's not why he'll come back. Without some kind of urgency, there's no way he'll ever pilot again, because it's easier to keep running away than facing probably the most traumatic memory of his life. No, you need to get him curious, excited and then,” I clap my hands. “Then you close the trap. Show him, he's not on his own.”
I can practically see the idea taking hold in their minds. Pentecost broods over his thoughts for a moment, while Miss Mori absentmindedly reaches for a pen. Upon realizing she has no paper to write on, she spins it in her fingers. I let the lazy circles lull me in.
“You're right,” Pentecost says and suddenly I'm wide awake. “I can't deny you would be helpful during the whole process. With Mako's approval, I’d like to have you in the Hong Kong shatterdome and assist her in selecting candidates.”
She nods. For a split second, I think about saying no and then Yancy's face floats through my memory, his cocky grin after he and Raleigh won a fight and I know I just have to try. He'd want me to help his little brother out.
“Okay.”
One word is all it takes to revive my spirit. Before I know better I'm knee deep in a new task, happier than I have been in a long while.
December 5, 2024 - Hong Kong, 18:38 hours
Turns out Mako is an angel when she wants to be. She's quiet, collected in a way that reminds me of Yancy some days and so polite it hurts, but once you've seen her fight it's clear as day that it's just a small part of her soul.
That girl is a force to be reckoned with, plowing through the cadets like they're weeds. We started out with a list of 218 names and a little over a month later there's barely 90 of them left. Considering that's she's a trainee herself, not even a full pilot, I'm more than impressed. I've also never had to treat so many nosebleeds and dislocated shoulders in my life. Almost all of them deserve it, being the misogynistic pricks they are.
When I'm not working for or with her, I usually help out in the sick bay. They're glad to have me when things get busy. Doctors are expensive, much less crucial than the engineers until you really need them, and even those seem to be chronically understaffed. Well, understaffed is a harsh word when there's still hundreds of people living here.
Compared to Alaska, the Hong Kong shatterdome is huge and by that I mean huge. Naturally, all bases need to fit at least one Jaeger, but the hangar alone is bigger than anything I've seen and there are a million tunnels leading everywhere, which makes it hard to navigate when you don't happen to know Chinese. Which I don't.
I usually stick to the elevators to be honest, just like the other foreigners. Speaking of, when the doors of my cabin open a familiar face grins back at me.
“Liv, you're right on cue!”
“Well good evening to you too, Doctor Newton.”
He rolls his eyes and drags me along into his lab. As usual, he's dressed like my first English teacher back in highschool and has no spatial awareness whatsoever. Or tact.
“I need you to help me out, ‘cause these damn intestines keep glibbering all over the place. Hermann’s gonna rip my heart out and stab it with his cane when he sees….oh.”
Hermann Gottlieb looks like he wants to do just that. He safeguards the entry to their lab like a knight in a checkered three piece suit, displaying murderous intent. Behind him, I see Kaiju bits and pieces strewn all over the floor.
Newt chuckles nervously. “Heeey, how's it goin’?”
“How is it going you ask? Well, Newton, I will tell you.”
I barely have time to brace myself before he explodes.
“HOW OFTEN do I need to tell you that I absolutely cannot stand your silly little creatures on MY SIDE of the room? Es kann doch nicht so schwer sein sich einmal an unsere Abmachung zu halten. Einmal, Newton!”
The way he effortlessly switches between languages makes my head spin, but judging by his tone I'm glad I don't understand everything. Newt only rolls his eyes.
“Relax, Hermann. It's just DNA.”
“Just DNA? Just DNA, are you serious?”
We squeeze past him, which takes me a whole lot more courage than you might think. Originally, I just wanted to drop by to get some Kaiju blood for Mako's hair dye, because it's the one thing that would really make the blue stand out if I'm correct - especially on Asian hair - but I guess my scientist of choice has other plans.
The room is a mess. As promised, a rapidly decaying pile of intestines decorates his lab bench and the smell is ungodly. I get Dr. Gottlieb more and more when Newt hands me a pair of gloves, telling me to just grab a bunch and pull.
“What do you mean pull? Like a rubber band?”
“Yeah, kind of.” He pushes his glasses up, smearing fluid on his cheek he barely seems to notice. “I need to test the elasticity, in motion and that's the easiest way to do it. Unless you have a vise laying around.”
“Nope,” I say and oblige.
It's weird, most definitely gross and when Newt starts to gently tap against the flesh, I need a lot of willpower to keep holding on.
“Fascinating” he mutters, accompanied by a “Hmm, no,” here or “That's it,” there.
I think it's just an excuse to play banjo with Kaiju bowels, but with Newt you never know. The trouble of great minds I guess.
“Newt, seriously I just came to get some blood.”
“Yes, listen to the lady and stop this nonsense.”
Dr. Gottlieb and I trade a look. I think it's the first time he directly looked me in the eyes and there's a silent plea to leave, not because we have a problem but because he desperately wants his space back.
I drop the bowels, much to Newt’s disappointment. A few snap back at him like huge, slimy rubber bands, before they pile up around Newt's sneakers. Gross.
“I thought you wanted to help me,” he says, more than a little bit betrayed.
“This is ridiculous.”
“It's science!”
“At the expense of your lab partner? No thank you. Just get me my blood and then I'm on my way.” I strip my gloves off and throw them away. “And next time you need a hand please clean up before I walk in.”
I make a point of shuddering and Newt sighs.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
We're still new to being colleagues, but I know he won't hold grudges. In some ways he's like a housecat and when the next squirrel - or Kaiju in his case - comes along, he'll get distracted and forget.
Dr. Gottlieb on the other hand might remember for a decade that I sided with him today. It's a win-win really.
We awkwardly stand around while Newt ruffles through his drawers to find me an old sample he won't miss.
“I have offered him so many times to implement a system,” Gottlieb mutters. “Numeric, labeled, along with a most detailed database, but no he has to keep everything in this thick skull of his...”
Somehow his rambling sounds more affectionate than either of the two would be willing to admit.
“Well, Doctor Gottlieb-”
“Hermann, please.”
“Well, Hermann, I think he likes the way it is. Besides, you can't scold him on Kaiju organs all day long, eh?”
He chuckles. Once, I asked my mother why her and Dad bicker so much and when she said it feels cathartic, that it helps get all the worries out of your head, a lightbulb went on in my head. With Newt and Hermann, I'm still waiting for them to realize.
Newt's head pops up behind a shelf and he triumphantly raises a glass vial filled with deep blue liquid. It's about the length of my index finger and more than enough.
“Keep leftovers in the fridge, okay? It's already neutralized, so no need to wear masks either.”
“Will do, buddy. Thanks.”
“Don't mention it. While we're at it, what are you doing tomorrow?”
I laugh. “Helping you I guess?”
“That's it. Won't be needing much, just someone to stir a bunch of funky little tests and-”
“It's okay Newt, I'll be there.”
“Yeah uh..great. Okay then.”
Now that our fixed social script is over and he can't ramble on about his experiments, Newt is a little lost. I grin and take my leave.
I'm not even at the elevator, when I hear him and Hermann argue again, indeed bickering like an old married couple. By the time Mako’s room comes into view, I'm still smiling.
I knock. Almost instantly, the metal door swings open.
“Livia,” Mako greets and bows her head, “please come in.”
“Good to see you, Mako.”
It's the first time I'm here. Usually, we meet at the LOCCENT and brainstorm with Tendo or she drops by to question me, but today is a meeting among friends. I dare say we are.
“You ready?”
She nods. “Of course. Based on my calculations we won't ruin the process or poison ourselves, so I have nothing to worry about.”
The slightly concerned look she sends me says otherwise. I'm way to curious to back off though.
“It's gonna be fine and even if there's trouble what's the worst that could happen? Maybe we'll discover something new?”
“It's not your hair we are melting off.”
I chuckle. “That a challenge?”
Mako looks up with wide eyes, sees my amusement and then smirks, quickly turning away to her desk and a bowl of bright blue dye. She shrugs innocently.
“Maybe.”
“Oh you better count me in then.”
My hair isn't all that important to me. I keep it long, because that makes it easier to cut on my own, but other than that it's a mess of dark brown curls I mostly leave unkempt.
We carefully mix Kaiju blood and hair dye. Turns out I was right regarding the intensity, because the colour pops, more vividly than I have ever seen and when we lather the substance onto a strand at the bottom left side on my head, I feel like I'm going to burst with excitement. Mako is curious too. I can tell by the way she tilts her head and carefully wraps the strand up in foil.
“How long do we wait?” I ask.
“Fifteen minutes should be enough. Twenty, if we're taking risks.”
“Okay, you're the boss.”
Nonetheless, I hop over to the camped bathroom and inspect my hair. Wrapped up as it is, I can't see shit but I try to imagine what its going to look like. Mako sits at her desk when I come back, now bent over a document.
I watch her for a moment, take the details in like stacks of neatly sorted folders, a red shoe right where I keep the picture of me and Yancy.
“You're always working, aren't you?”
“Yes,” she says and I appreciate the honesty. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”
“It's not. Not what I meant at least, just be careful you're not burning yourself out.”
“I can take a little pressure.”
“And stress alone is not what I'm talking about. With real burnout, you don't function anymore. You'll be looking at the data for hours, always tired and not get anywhere. Not worth it, trust me.”
Mako scoffs. “Then make him make sense. That man is unpredictable and every time I think I have him figured out, he changes something up. It’s…madness.”
“Oh he’s a little mad alright, but that's not a disadvantage. Yancy always said if Jaegers were like rallye cars, he’d be the guy with the card, steering them, but Raleigh's driving. The guy's got crazy instinct, just not the impulse control to pull it off.”
“Which is precisely why we need a copilot that's driven by logic. Rational.”
I start to pace the room, unsure if I should say something, but Mako beats me to it.
“Do you think we'd be Drift compatible?”
“I mean you fit the profile.”
Not just the logic part, but everything else too. She scrunches her nose a little, obviously dissatisfied with my answer.
“Not what I was asking.”
“I know.” The silence stretches until I eventually add, “I think he'll like you. Might be good for each other.”
“Good? How?”
“I, uh…wellll…it's kind of hard to explain, but in the end it all boils down to both of you needing someone to shake you up a little. Counterweight, if you will.”
“I don't need counterweight.”
We leave it at that. It's clear she'll spend another month thinking about it and even though I wish I could help her more, I stand by what I said: They’d be good for each other.
December 27, 2024 - Hong Kong, 21:06 hours
My mouth hangs open when I see the news, unable to believe what I'm seeing. The Wall of Life is useless. All around me people stop to snicker or spit a bunch of sarcastic remarks, occasionally praising Herc Hansen and his son for stopping the attack so quickly.
Apparently they’ll be here by tomorrow morning, but I'm sure I won't see much of them. What I see though, is a determined Marshal Pentecost. He struts along the hallways like a guard on duty, even more reserved than usual and when Mako comes to find me moments later, I know what they're up to. She almost knocks me down.
“You're going for Raleigh,” I say.
“Yes, the Marshal’s on his way now. If things go well, we will see them by tomorrow afternoon. Maybe a day later if he's held up in Sydney.”
“And you have everything you need?”
“I've narrowed it down to seven candidates, that's not it. I...” She falters for a moment, then straightens up again. “Do you want to be there when he arrives?”
I snort. “God no. Worst case he'll run right back to the chopper when he sees me.”
Since I'm currently headed for the sick bay, to help out with treatment for a bunch of military staff from Sydney, it's exactly where I'll stay. There's a distinct uneasiness I haven't felt in a while now and if the idea of seeing Raleigh is unsettling for me, I can't imagine how hard it is for him.
Mako looks relieved. I can't blame her; after months of studying the man, I'd want to meet him under neutral circumstances too.
“I will be on my way then,” she answers with a tight lipped smile and starts to head for her room.
“Hey Mako,” I yell after her. “You'll do fine, just trust your gut, okay?”
She waves me off without looking back.
December 29, 2024 - Hong Kong, 20:34 hours
He's here. Even without the hushed rumours I would've known because something just feels different, a different energy in the air in tune with my racing heart…maybe it's psychosomatic. Probably.
Mako briefly comes by to tell me where and when the tryouts will be, offhandedly complaining that I should've told her Raleigh speaks Japanese - which I honestly didn't know - and goes to bed early. Maybe she's talking to Pentecost, again, about joining the fights, although I highly doubt he'll change his mind. The only way to achieve that would be to borderline insult him to his face and that's akin to suicide.
As for me, I’ve been hiding at the infirmary all day to avoid seeing Raleigh. I'm still queasy and more than a little anxious, not even because I'm afraid he'll remind me of Yancy, but rather because I fear that he still cannot look me in the eye. That I'll have to tiptoe around him like a fractured vase.
Right now, I'm hungry though and surely he won't be in the commissary anymore. My stomach growls. Maybe that's why I'm a little lightheaded. I have nothing to worry about, at least that's what I tell myself.
By now, I'm able to navigate the corridors with relative ease, as long as I'm sober, not even looking at the incomprehensible signage anymore. It's also why I don't see the tall blonde figure standing in the middle of the hallway, until I bump into him headfirst.
It's Raleigh, because of course it is. I freeze while we stare each other down. His hair is different, a little longer now and he has a distinct weariness about him I'm not used to.
“You're friends with Mako.”
His assessment catches me off guard. Whatever I expected him to say, after more than five years of no contact, that's definitely not it.
“What, you're psychic now? That why they want you back?”
Raleigh chuckles. “The hair, Liv.”
“Oh.”
The bright blue strand isn't exactly subtle. I notice he’s much calmer too, but wether it's from depression or just growing up I can't tell; surprisingly, seeing him doesn't make me sad. Of course I'm reminded of Yancy and of course the memory is bittersweet, only that there's something else blurring my vision. I realize I missed him.
Before I know it, Raleigh pulls me into a long hug.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that.”
“Damn right you shouldn't.” I pull away and wipe my face with my sleeve. “But I don't blame you, so long as you don't piss of and do it again.”
I stare into his deep blue eyes and we both settle for a wicked grin.
“Welcome home, Raleigh. Feels good to have you back.”
December 30, 2024 - Hong Kong, 06:15 hours
Having seen the Rangers fight for years now, I know drift compatibility when I see it. So does Marshal Pentecost it seems.
He's standing at the edge of the mat, barking orders but deep down I pray he pulls that hefty stick out of his ass and promotes Mako to copilot, because if anyone can pull this off it's her. She would never go against his wishes though, just silently endure.
When Raleigh finds me after the trials, there's fire in his eyes and know he saw it too.
“I won't take anyone but her,” he greets.
We're walking through the base, apparently going to see the Gypsy by the direction of his steps. I don't mind, since I have nowhere else to be.
“You will,” I reply matter-of-factly, “but you would be real bitter ‘bout it too.”
“You saw it, Liv and she's so dedicated too…it's like she's always been there, scratching at the corners of my mind and I…I..God, it's so annoying to be out of favour with command.”
“Raleigh, you'll be fine. The Marshal's gonna come around eventually.”
“And what if it's too late by then? In less than two hours, I'll let a stranger step into my head, the least he could do is let it be the stranger I choose.”
“I'm sure he has his reasons.”
“But she's perfect!”
I can't help but chuckle. “Maybe there's some things in her you can't see yet…history, trauma.”
“I'm traumatized too, like that's a valid argument.”
“You're a veteran, Rals. You know what you're doing and you also know that you're not exactly easy to work with. Got that very special charm that makes substitutes, sargeants and stuck-up old librarians throw a little hissy fit.”
“Gee, thanks.” I can see the wheels turning in his mind though. He frowns. “You think she wouldn't want to work with me?”
“I’m saying Pentecost doesn't want to, but you're the only one he has. Mako, she's smitten. I mean she's smart and you constantly improvise, that's about as compatible as it gets. You really think she'd work with someone who can't challenge her?”
“You're right.”
“‘Course I am.”
We reach the fitting room for the Gypsy Rangers. Knowing Raleigh and his profound interest in pushing the equipment to its limit, he'll go ahead and let the engineers explain just how far he can go.
“Go get her, solider,” I say and he smirks.
“You bet.”
One and a half hours later, I watch the rest run along with everybody else. When the gun powers up, I don't have the time to be scared or worried, because someone faints right next to me. Thankfully he still has pulse.
You'd think the people here are a little more resilient, but apparently I'm wrong.
As soon as we're not in immediate danger anymore, I grab the next best guard I can find and order him to help me carry my new patient, a burly dark skinned man.
At the infirmary, I barely have time to scrub in before a whole bunch of people flood the waiting room, demanding this and that. I guess it must be a full moon, because over the next two hours I see the strangest injuries.
Chuck Hansen takes the cake though. The other nurses are either sceptical or drooling, so I take it upon myself to help him to his priority treatment. He's a Ranger after all.
“What happened?” I ask, leading him into a secluded room.
“That useless has-been and his rookie bitch,” he grumbles. “M fine, just sign the damn forms.”
At first I think his jaw is injured, before I realize he's just Australian and always talks like that. His posture’s slightly off.
“Yeah right. Lose the jacket and shirt, please. I'll do a quick body check, take your blood pressure and 02 and when I find there's nothing wrong you're good to go.”
“Said m fine. Jesus, I'm busy, woman, go get your piece of abs somewhere else.”
“And I don't have X-ray vision, so you either help me out or take your daddy issues somewhere else. I can see from here your shoulder hurts.”
“Oh piss of,” he complains, but obliges in the end.
I do my best to overhear his tone, trying to stay professional. When I step behind him and let my fingers trail over his spine, he shrugs me off.
“Hold still, will you?”
The left shoulder isn't dislocated or fractured, but the warmth compared to the rest of his body tells me there's something going on. Could have pulled a muscle. On top of that I only see some minor injuries like a light cut on his cheek.
I let go, walking around the table to face him. There's no instabilities in the face either and when he brushes my hands away this time, I let him.
“So?”
“You need an MRI for the shoulder. Please state your name, age and occupation.”
He glares at me. “I don't need to tell you shit. You know who I am.”
“Yes, Mister Hansen I do, but that's not the point. Let's rephrase: Did Raleigh knock you out?”
Chuck immediately narrows his eyes, squinting at me with new caution.
“You know the fucker don't you?”
“Yes I do, will you answ-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I'm surrounded by sentimental idiots. Where the hell do they find you guys?”
“Look into a goddamn mirror, Hansen.”
I'm so done with this conversation, but I have a job to do. I take a deep breath, mentally forcing myself to calm down, before I adress him again, always reminding myself that I chose this profession almost nine years ago. He's back to wearing his shirt.
“Let’s start over. Hi, I'm Liv and as your attending nurse, I'm telling you to get an MRI before you leave. Your shoulder could be permanently damaged if you don't, further neurological examination is advised. Comply and I'll sign your forms, deal?”
He scoffs. There's no other way out of this for him and Chuck seems to realize that too, because eventually he nods.
“Whatever.”
“Great, please wait a moment I'll send someone in to come and get you.”
Without further ado, I leave and run right into the other Hansen. In the flesh.
“Guess it's my lucky day.”
He musters me, then frowns. “You're friends with Becket, aren't you? My son giving you trouble?”
“I am and he is, but it's fine, Sir. Nothing I'm not used to.”
“Sorry. I'll go talk to him.”
“You do that.”
It's not the last time I'll be seeing them, that much is for sure.
January 8, 2025 - Hong Kong, 00:26 hours
I'm in a helicopter, fishing the two Australian Rangers out of their blasted Jaeger. The fight is over and what a fight it was, unlike anything I've ever seen. I'm glad I volunteered for this, because I got to see just how good Mako and Raleigh really are together. I mean, I knew, but seeing it is something else.
I'm still high on adrenaline when Herc Hansen comes aboard. My focus shifts on his arm and I immediately switch to work mode, not bothering with extensive monitoring because the sensors won't read shit up here. Besides, most of our equipment is still fried from the EMP…time for old school medicine.
“You again,” he yells over the noise.
“Me again,” I answer.
A good sign. The slight arhythmia in his heartbeat has me worried though when I feel it, and I signal the pilot to get going.
Chuck barely climbs into the narrow cabin, then we're taking off. My colleague checks if I'm alright on my own and upon seeing my face, he finishes up. I tap my heart, showing him what I mean and when he too feels Hansen's pulse, he nods.
The rangers both know something's wrong. Within minutes we're back at the Shatterdome and finally able to do some decent diagnostics.
“What is it?” Chuck asks surprisingly polite. “Just the arm, right?”
“We're you exposed to electricity?”
“Yeah, got grilled when the blast hit. Stung a little, but that's it.”
The others take off with Herc. I follow suit with his son, half listening to the patient transfer, half explaining how an electric shock can do some real damage your heart. They're fast and I'm a little out of breath when we arrive.
No one dares to throw Chuck out of the trauma room. Somehow it's almost scary to see him passive for once and even though he doesn't say anything, I feel the tension like my own, the barely restrained urge to go over to his father and connect like they did in the Drift not even an hour ago. The only thing I add to the treatment is an i.v. line, before I'm back to babysitting.
We collectively hold our breaths when the EKG is printed. The thin stripe of reddidsh paper takes forever to come out and I'm no doctor, but on the screen it looks fine. Not fatal at least.
“Minor sinus arhythmia,” the doc confirms. “Take some blood, get me a TSH and Trop test, plus arrangement for a 24 hour EKG. Mr Hansen, I'm afraid you'll have to stay till morning.”
“That's fine as long as I'm back on track by then.”
“We'll see about that. Yao, please run him through full body MRI, CT scan and X-ray first, I'll meet you there.” A nurse springs into action and the doc's gaze lands on Chuck. “You too young man. Get me a full set for him, EKG, MRI, CT plus neurological checkup.”
I nod. “Yessir.”
“Good work everyone.”
The bustling activity in the room subsides when the doc is off to register priority imaging and Yao and her fellow nurse, a tiny Chinese man, go to get Herc’s blood tested and strip him out of his Ranger uniform.
“Hansen, let's go,” I say and gently place my hand on Chuck's arm.
“He'll be fine?”
“I'm right here son and you damn well know it takes more than that prissy little alien to take me out.”
“What can I say old man, you're tough.”
With a small smile, I watch them hug each other awkwardly, careful not to rip the lines and cables off. It's obvious they just came out of a Drift and leaving is probably harder for Chuck than it seems.
I lead him to a room next door, making sure he removes all metal plates before I start. As expected, his heart rate is comparably high but the rest seems fine.
“Hey Hansen?”
He looks up.
“You did good today.”
“Yeah right, we were practically useless out there. Hate to say it, but Becket did a decent job at saving our asses.”
“What about his rookie bitch?”
Chuck has the decency to look uncomfortable. “Probably overreacted there. In my defense, I was pissed.”
“No shit.”
We both chuckle. I begin to realize he's not so bad up close and by the time him and his father are through with imaging, I notice that it's strangely quiet in the sick bay.
“Guess they're back,” Chuck states, now in his uniform again.
“Guess they are.”
He sighs. “Go see them, I'll be fine.”
I don't need to to think, before I answer, “Okay. Tell your Dad I’m rooting for him.”
“Will do, Ma’am.”
“Jesus, please just call me Liv. Ma’am sounds like I'm forty.”
“Oh, you're not?”
“Piss of,” I laugh, already retreating through the halls.
The way his eyes stay fixed on me is thrilling in a way I only ever felt with Yancy. Maybe I just have a thing for Jaeger pilots. Probably.
Deciding that now is neither the right time nor place, I focus on the way ahead, on Raleigh and how I'll congratulate them on their win. It takes a while to push through the waves and waves of people that come together in the docking bay, all passing around shots of Jaegermeister. For obvious reasons, it's a joke.
Finally, I see a patch of blonde right in the middle of the ruckus. Some stranger offers me a shot and I take it, moving on when I hear Tendo yell, “Who’s ready for another cheers to the gifted, infamous and improvising-”
“Mako Mori,” Raleigh cuts him off loud enough for me to hear. “And the humble guy she's Drifting with.”
The people around us toast. Finally, I see them, clinging to each other's arms and looking happier than they have ever been.
“Hey Raleigh,” I yell in my imitation of an Alaskan accent. “You’ve never been humble in your life, you boasting little gremlin.”
Mako doesn't bother to move away when I hug them. After all, she tapped into his memories, his feelings and probably some of Yancy's too, meaning that whatever distance or reservations she may have had are gone.
“Chuck won't ever admit it, but he's damn impressed.”
We break away.
“How is he?” Mako asks. “I saw how close it got...”
“Nah, he's fine. Herc broke his arm though, I'm not sure he'll pilot anytime soon.”
Raleigh and her trade a meaningful look. They're worried about Pitfall, now that there's three pilots left for two Jaegers, but I don't want them to do that now. We've all heard of Hermann’s predictions, the triple event that's supposedly coming and they'll have little enough time to celebrate as it is.
“Sooo Raleigh,” I start with a smirk. “You want blue hair anytime soon? We have a damn good recipe you know?”
“You're crazy, both of you.”
On instinct, he pulls Mako closer. She looks up at him with reverence so deep the term ‘affectionate’ pales in comparison. I take some pride in knowing I was right, that they're good for each other, stronger when together and all that.
It's time to give them a moment to themselves. Apparently they've come to the same conclusion, because Raleigh stirs, casting longing gazes at the exit.
I gently shove them in the right direction. A wave of nostalgia hits me and for a hot second, it feels like he's my own little brother, falling hard for the girl he’s holding in his arms.
“Hey kid,” I yell after them, loud enough so Tendo and the others hear, “don't get cocky.”
He throws me his signature shit-eating grin and it's only now that I know he’s truly found his path, a future that's worth fighting for. With her.
January 12, 2025 - Hong Kong, 06:24 hours
Newt Geizler is clinically insane. He's been gone for a few days, just like Hermann and when I heard he actually drifted with a Kaiju brain I thought that was it, but no, of course he's off doing it again.
Operation Pitfall is broadcast, so I hear him yelling “It won't work” over com and my heart stops for a number of reasons.
First off, it means we're all doomed, that the world will end and there is nothing we can do about it.
Second, Raleigh and Mako are down there in a damaged Jaeger.
Third, I'll have to listen to them die, fighting for their lives, fully aware they cannot win.
Then, the scientists explain and I'm ready to hope, convinced the last hurdle is taken until Chuck and Pentecost are forced to sacrifice themselves.
“Let's clear a path,” I hear the Marshal say. “For the lady.”
The way Mako says goodbye is heartwrenching, addressing him with “aishite imasu”, the highest form of love in Japanese, reserved for those who hold nothing but your deepest adoration and respect. It's more than my poor soul can take. Along with so many others, I start crying like a child, praying for the first time in my life. They have to come back home. They have to.
January 12, 2025 - Hong Kong, 10:01 hours
Whatever God there is, he heard me. When the choppers fly Raleigh and Mako in, I'm ready, waiting along with a small army of doctor’s nurses and military officers.
I make sure to stand first in line, to be a familiar face among the masses.
“You think they have decompression sickness?” a nurse I'm sure I've seen before says to no one in particular.
Yao, I think that was it. A doctor, judging by her name tag at least, answers rather briskly.
“I’d be surprised if not. From what we know, they were both unconscious and the pressure chamber’s prepped and ready. In a few hours, well know more.”
Right. Long forgotten knowledge from nursing school trickles back into my head, first slowly and then more and more rapidly.
The reason divers take breaks during ascent is not because they're nostalgic or something, but rather because there's a fat chance they'll die otherwise. Especially when you're breathing compressed air from an oxygen tank - and I realize with growing concern that both Raleigh and Mako are - little gas bubbles can form in your bloodstream and kill you by obstucting blood vessels. Or your ears burst, or you start having seizures, sometimes hours after you're successfully on land or another million things. The best way to counter this are a few hours of breathing near pure oxygen in a pressurized room.
I realize they were quite literally in another dimension too, below bottom of the freaking ocean. What that does we can't even fathom and my heart drops back into my stomach.
The doctor gives me a sideways look.
“You family?” she asks.
Too busy wringing my hands behind my back, I nod.
“Don't worry, whatever happens I won't let them die, not after they saved literally everyone. Besides, tough as they are I don't think it's gonna be that bad.”
Somehow that doesn't reassure me much. Absentmindedly I nod again and stare into the emptiness ahead, listening for the helicopter rotors coming closer until the doctor takes my hand. I look up into her ernest deep brown eyes.
“They’ll live. I swear.”
It's what I repeat over and over in my head when the chopper lands and two exhausted Jaeger pilots emerge, grinning like two idiots in love.
Raleigh is the first to take a careful step and promptly stumbles, almost tumbling down the few steps to the landing platform. Only Mako and a stretcher break his fall.
“Careful, buddy,” I grin, “Mako here still needs you.”
I help them both lie down, grateful someone planned ahead and brought a stretcher big enough for two. It's clear they only have eyes for each other, more so after Mako slowly cups his face and kisses Raleigh, deaf to the shared whoops and whistles of the crowd.
The doctor from before, Amanda, quickly takes charge and only after both rangers are safely wheeled into the pressure chamber do I allow myself to relax.
I take up position in the waiting room and do exactly what it was intended for: I wait. Usually, in moments like these I'm the first to fall asleep, no matter where I am, but today that's just unthinkable. Not with all that happened.
We won a bloody war today, all of us here in the shatterdome, the engineers and cooks alike, because without their contributions there would be no base to operate. And yet two good men died.
It's still surreal to think the one person who built all this is no longer around to lead it, or to live here without a pissed Australian Ranger constantly getting into fights. I guess whatever spark there was between us, wasn't supposed to be. I can't imagine what Herc's going through and-
With a jolt I sit up. He’s alone. I'm not sure if he wants to be, but with everybody busy celebrating right after his son died, it can't hurt to ask. There's not much to do around here anyway, since Mako and Raleigh will be stuck for the next five hours and then probably sleep for another twelve.
On my way, I nick a flask from one of the blackout drunks. I have the clear intention to bring it back later, but ultimately they wont mind. Not today.
I find the new Marshal on the platform where his Jaeger used to be, staring at the empty socket.
“Need a drink?”
He doesn't bother looking, just accepts it and takes a lenghty sip. Herc isn't crying. Then again I wasn't expecting him to.
“I was wondering if you want some company?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
We stare out into the hall, lulled in by music and euphoric laughter.
“How'd you do it?” Herc asks eventually.
“Yancy? I guess I learned to live with it, as harsh as it may sound.” I take the flask back. “The fact he died doing what he loved helped, too.”
“Yeah, bet.”
“A nuclear blast is as cool as it gets though, especially inside a Jaeger at the bottom of the ocean, fighting the biggest monster in all of human history.”
Herc chuckles and finally looks up when I continue.
“He's maybe not the brightest, or the toughest kid to die in this war, but he's the one that ended it. That's gotta count for something, eh?” I offer a sad smile. “You did a damn good job.”
He blinks rapidly and then we're back to staring into nothingness. I make sure to leave him my number, in case he needs someone to talk to, before I let Herc grieve in peace.
I'm back at the infirmary when Raleigh wakes up, snuggled into Mako's arms. She gently kisses his forehead and that's when I know that whatever happens next, today we're luckier than most.
June 17, 2025 - Alaska, 15:19 hours
Five months later, they move in together. We're all there - even Herc and the disaster duo - helping them with renovations on the old Alaska house, although no one but me and Raleigh know what it once looked like.
The weather got to it, but that hardly matters. Every time Mako crosses the threshold, Raleigh shines a little brighter, looking up with puppy eyes as if she's the most beautiful being on this earth. I think to him she is.
Sometimes, they sneak away into the kitchen and I hear them laughing from the hallway, probably locked in a tight embrace like now.
“I think we’ll be happy here,” Mako says. “It's home.”
“You're home, darling. More than anything.”
I let them have their moment and carry my box into the still half-empty living room.
“They're making out, aren't they?” Newt asks dryly and promptly earns a glare from Hermann.
“Yup.”
“High time,” Tendo chimes in.
I hear a light giggle from Alison, his wife, leaning against a bookshelf. It's my first time seeing her again after the Icebox was closed and the toddler on her arm is still a strange sight, but seeing them care so deeply for this child that won't ever have to endure what we did gives me hope.
It's also pretty funny to see Hermann stalk around it like it's catching fire any second. Newt makes a point of handing him the little guy whenever he can, revelling in mischief and barely suppressed satisfaction when he sees how Hermann hides his smile more often than not. I think they're closer now, much closer than before.
When they stare at each other just a bit too long, Tendo, Alison and I exchange a knowing look. They'll figure it out, I'm sure. Speaking of, I think I'll call Amanda later see how her and the cats are doing. We're roommates now, working at the same hospital in Portland and I think she's one of the best commitments I have ever made.
Things get busy when Herc emerges from the shed. He's covered in beige dust from head to toe and looking around in utter disbelief that we haven't made much more progress than two hours before, while he fixed a whole roof. It's good to see him though, not quite happy, but at peace.
We occupy the living room a little longer.
Later that day, when the sun paints golden rays across the walls, everyone is gathered around a brand-new table, drinking beer and wine and soda, remembering the good and bad, laughing ‘till our stomachs hurt. We eat typical Alaskan dinner as I'm told, halibut and chips. It's the best meal I've ever had.