#hoa content

By the smirk that appears on his face, you know he’s pleased with the new attitude. He takes a moment to observe Joey slouched in his chair before speaking. 

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

You zero back on Eric King.

He nods to you at the salute leaving you to drop your arm and relax into something a bit more casual. You don’t forget to welcome the woman behind him with a warm smile and a dip of the head. Always some pride to be found when a sister is out here in man's world. 

She flutters her fingers in response, chewing on gum or so you assume. You notice a rose tattoo on her left forearm, purples and greens a bit muted. The shading is well done and just like that, you can surmise a few pieces of her personality. 

It’s not a dainty style of rose; the thorns tell you she’s not to be trifled with and purple instead of red? This dame likes to do things her way if she can help it.

You like her already. 

Something on her face flashes in the light as Joey waves off Jason’s proposal. You listen half-heartedly—behind a desk, fewer bullets, you aren’t going to argue with that. The paperwork, though? You'll fight that shit tooth and nail. 

Nose ring, you observe when she’s a bit closer. Probably would’ve been friends back home. 

“So this must be the one and only satellite guy?” Joey says. 

You force yourself to stare at a wall, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. 

King parrots the poor attempt at ragging, making his title known soon after with an authoritative tone. Your companion is quick to sit up from his slackened position. You give a few slaps on the back for comfort. 

“Nice one,” you cough.

“Cállate,” he whispers, lips tight. His eyes flicker to Jason as he steps forward. 

“Give the Colonel full site access.”

A vehement “fuck!” is muttered under the marine’s breath. He gets to his feet, nearly catching your leg with the chair as it scoots back.

You watch the poor guy hand the access card over, quickly saluting to try and save what’s left of his dignity. 

King says nothing, eyes hidden behind his aviators as he turns.

“I’m telling you,” Jason pipes up, amusement clear as he holds up a piece of paper, “when Queen Bitch finds out about this she’s gonna flip her shit.”

Your eyes widen in horror as he turns back to the colonel all too carefree. Are they on good enough terms for him to drop that little endearment about his wife? 

“Rachel and I…we know each other,” King mentions with some hesitation. “She’ll understand all’s fair in love and war.”

As inconspicuous as possible, you cover your mouth to hide your expression. All you can do is watch in sheer mortification. 

“Sir?”

“The ‘Queen Bitch’ you’re referring to is his wife,” the unnamed woman explains.

Jason is at a loss for words as the man passes by to continue on into the debrief room.

“Nice work, hotshot,” she says, unamused.

You and Joey stick to looking anywhere that isn’t the lieutenant when he faces you both. Two fuck-ups in less than five minutes. The tension is tangible at this point.

That’s gotta be a new record. 

Your name breaks the silence and your body noticeably deflates as Jason throws a thumb up towards the ballroom.

Looks like you’re along for the ride. 

“Have fun,” goads Joey as he sits back down. 

Oh, fuck no. You whip your hand out, pilfering his glasses and gently tossing them to the far side of the table. 

He mumbles unintelligibly as you hurry to converge with Jason. You swipe your papers off the edge of Joey’s workspace as you go.

“Since when was she married?” 

His steps slow as you pass through the threshold. You shake your head, helpless. 

“I thought you knew. They have the same last name.”

“Goddammit,” he breathes, rightly miffed with himself. You could only imagine where you would be had you made a fatal mistake like his.

He breaks away, back towards the colonel to most likely apologize. You take to trailing after the second guest as she unpacks at one of the center-most table.

“Dr. Stokes, you can call me Clarice,” she says when you introduce yourself.

You tilt your head towards her as she leans closer, lowering her voice.

“They always this dumb around here?”

“Have you met Merwin yet?” you ask in return and she smiles. The two of you keep your laughs hushed as she nods. 

“Ugh, sorry you deal with that every day.”

“Sticks and stones,” you breathe.

You wish her well with the tech, proceeding to Rachel’s desk to lay the lists she asked for down.

Should be up to date…

Your mind lulls as you hear Jason speak up in the background.

“Right. Let’s get you set up.”

“I hope the bandwidth can cope with the data,” replies Clarice, her concern evident.

With her weighty equipment, you aren’t surprised she’s worried. Networks this far out are a rare breed, and not all of them are as high-speed as digital savants would have. 

“I’ll leave the techy stuff to you.” 

You glance over your shoulder to find her smiling up at him, words almost a purr as she dallies.

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

A spark pops in your stomach. You snap your head face-forward and have to remind yourself that’s paper you’re gripping. Don’t rip it. Rachel won’t be pleased if she finds them crumpled. 

Jason’s going on about the “love palace” the base is set up in, catering to her interests in the ballroom and that spark swells into a fever. You can feel it crawling up your chest.

No, no. You huff out a breath. None of that. Quit it. 

You try not to eavesdrop and focus on triple-checking the lists, cleaning up the desk, anything else you can do to distract the storm that’s picking up again.

You try to remember the supplies that are stocked up and what’s been blacked out since the last run. 

“Maybe when we’re done, I’ll let you spin me around a little.”

Fucking hell—can you suplex a metaphorical cloud over your head? You’d just gotten rid of it.

“Heh, dancin’ ain’t my forte, but—”

“[Last].”

You let out a quick breath and turn to Colonel King as he steps up next to you.

Thank god. You had been one second away from combusting.

“Sir,” you say, the word practically punched from your throat. ‘Tense’ seems too weak a description right now. 

He nods, looking down at the lists you were just mindlessly glaring through.

“Rachel mentioned you in passing last year. Glad to see you’re still on her team, marine.” 

You thank him, surprised she ever even brought you up. You two aren’t exactly close despite being the only women around, but you look out for one another where you can.

In hindsight, you doubt she’d even let you get close to her if you tried. Nick’s been the only one as far as you know. 

“You've been treated all right here?”

You watch him for a second longer than necessary. It’s a bit peculiar of a question to ask.

You want to assume he’s just being kind, but perturbation rises deep in your stomach like fizz from a joggled beer.

Just what else had Rachel talked to him about? 

“Pretty well, sir.”

All things considered.

“I’ll take that at face value after meeting the corporal,” he says, genial.

You struggle to return his smile, still, you’re somewhat relieved to find he’s not nearly as reserved as his wife. 

Oh fuck. You suddenly recall Nick and silently offer your condolences to the colonel as he heads over to the next desk to skim some papers scattered about. Have fun with that, Queen Bitch. 

“Everythin’ good over here?”

Your chest seizes as you busy yourself with scanning through the papers again.

Jason’s arm brushes against yours—the one you tattooed. You can’t help but always notice these days. 

“Yes, sir,” you murmur, refusing to look at him. 

Swallowing the burn in your throat as that previous heat works its way into your face, you nudge him with your elbow to steer clear of the tension with a tease. 

“Everything good, uh, with Dr. Stokes?”

You pray to every god in the sky you sound lighthearted and not like you’re about to vomit. 

He chuckles. You hate to wonder what it could entail. 

“She’s got some of your wit.”

You can't help the scoff that leaves your lips, a shadow pain working through something as innermost as the soul.

The feeling is all-encompassing; the comparison a bullet to the vest. You hadn’t died that day and likely won’t right now, but fuck it bruised deep. It hurts so much more now. 

“Nah,” you whisper, a pressure building behind your eyes, “sounds like she actually knows how to use it.”

He makes a noise, something edging confusion or maybe it’s in agreement. You can't tell when it’s in his throat like that.

Your commander’s voice cuts him off as he goes to speak, both of your heads swiveling to watch the Kings face off.

It starts off okay enough. The colonel is sweet on her, vulnerable even. Rachel is anything but. 

“I’m now commanding officer,” he explains, apologetic. 

“Ah, shit,” blows Jason, head dipping as he steps away. “Here we go.”

He enters the war zone with that piece of paper as proof when Rachel’s doubt crests.

Honestly, she takes the whole thing rather well, keeping up her respect as she hands the proceedings over to her husband. That doesn’t mean there’s not an entire ravine driven between the two. 

As the presentation is prepared, the rest of the squads fall in. You take up the empty space near Joey at the front, sighing when he pushes your glasses up into your hair with no preamble. The plastic of your nose pads scrapes the skin on the way up. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, rubbing the undoubted marks left behind. 

“Yeah, huh? Payback’s a bitch.”

“Now, certainly ain’t as much as our little Van Gogh here!”

You scowl as Merwin takes to standing on Joey’s right, doing your best to ignore him as you untangle your hair from your specs.

“Need some help over there, princess?”

“Fuck off.”

“Ooh,” he croons, pouting, “someone’s still in a bad mood. All the men not keeping you satiated, sweet cheeks? We’re good for the cramps, I hear.”

“Surprised you even know that word,” you scoff, words coming out flat as you pull your strands free.

“What? Cramps?” he laughs.

You fix your glasses back over your eyes and look straight at him. 

“Satiated. Lord knows the women you’ve been with don't.” 

Joey’s cracks instantly, bending forward in an attempt to contain his guffaw.

In contrast, Merwin expires a short breath and leans back to watch the presentation just now flickering onto the screen ahead. You cross your arms and do the same, glancing left as someone moves closer. 

Jason steps up beside you. He’s trying to hide his smile as he stares straight, but the dimples peek through.

He definitely heard that.

“All right,” calls King, stepping up to the board, “let’s get started.”

Jason leans down to your ear triggering something sharp to lick up your spine. His breath sends bumps across your skin and you have to hold yourself as still as possible to keep from shuddering. 

“Think you know how to use your wit just fine,” he murmurs.

Touché, you think, a death grip on your arms as you zone back into the debriefing. Tou-fucking-ché.

“Be ready in one hour. Dismissed!”

Jason walks right, across the room in seconds with those long strides.

Your eyes follow him and land on Nick as they trade words. The latter catches you staring, throwing a penitent look that you are quick to turn from. 

You shadow Joey as he and Merwin round the table.

“I don’t know, man. This don’t feel right. I’m getting this tingle down the back of my neck.”

You simper, walking two fingers up Joey’s spine and laughing as he spins around to smack at your hand. The way his cheeks puff up when he’s annoyed reminds you of the chipmunks you’d feed on your breaks back home. 

“Aw, sweetie, look,” Merwin lilts, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder to get his attention back. “A good rub down will sort that right out, huh?” 

You pass a skeptical look Merwin’s way as he smacks Joey on the ass.

Maybe he doesn’t have a wife waiting back home. 

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

“That’s what you get from spending too much time with Eric,” Rachel cuts in out of nowhere.

You catch her standing a few steps away, the chip on her shoulder obvious and quite larger than any cloud over your head.

You wonder how long it’s been there to affect her this strongly. 

Her eyes jump to yours. She nods your way and you respond with a small salute.

“Is there anything you can do?” Joey asks her, pleading with every syllable. 

The woman just gives him a somber frown, shrugging as she heads off. This mission is out of her hands and she knows as much. 

Joey sighs, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at the dramatics and land both hands on his shoulders, rocking him back and forth as you walk to your designated table. 

“Everything will be fine, big baby,” you say, tilting his helmet back. He scowls at you, unimpressed and forehead bare. “Hey, has anything ever happened to you since I joined the team?”

He takes a moment to think about it.

“Exactly,” you say, grinning toothily at him. “You got a walking good luck charm.”

“Yeah, right,” he derides. “‘Bout as lucky as angry-made tamales.”

“You’d have a little extra luck if you would’ve let me tattoo you. I could’ve given you another cross.” 

You pick at his gold chain necklace to which he smacks your hand away a second time, muttering Spanish under his breath as he turns his focus towards packing up. 

“Hey.” The softness in your voice has him slowly peeking over at you again. “I won’t let anything happen to you out there. Amigos con lente…something?”

“Amigos con lentes se pegan juntos, artista estúpida,” he deadpans, flicking your forehead. “You’ll never learn.”

You give him a once over, crossing your arms. “You really going to call an artist stupid? I can draw you in any likeness I please.”

“The dicks for ears were pretty good.”

“Bigger than anything you’ll ever have,” you huff, dodging as he goes for another flick and snorting at the irritation creeping into his face. “Okay, okay, I’ll go get our shit rounded up.”

Another Spanish insult is thrown your way as you leave; you can tell from his tone.

You just respond with your middle finger, making for the weapons check. 

My medical supplies are already packed. Didn’t they say we might need climbing gear? 

Your pack and outer layers are back under the table you and Joey had been working at prior to King arriving. That’s up next on your to-do list. 

Grabbing your usual guns and ammo, you sign off on the sheet for Joey’s and backtrack to get the rest of your shit, dropping his stuff off on the way. 

Nick tries to stop you as you’re passing by, feet speeding to block your way and force you into confrontation.

You hold a hand up and pin him with the hardest stare you can muster. Jason is right behind him. One wrong word will have you upset all over again. 

“I know,” you interrupt him before he can speak. “Just give me some space, Nick. I’m not mad anymore.”

“Then why do you need space?” he questions, eyebrows raising as he lifts a hand.

You hold back a grin as he looks around, feigning cluelessness as he shrugs.

“I don’t know. I don’t see the point around here.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, elbowing him in the side and pushing on into the next room.

He chuckles as you leave and just like that things are back to normal. 

“What’d you do to piss her off?” 

Oh fuck. Silently you beg Nick to have a good excuse for once. 

“Just…poked fun at something I shouldn’t have.”

Eh, that’ll do, you suppose. 

In the next room, you locate your heap of personal items and pull your long sleeve down over your tank. You can already feel the sweat building before putting your bullet vest and jacket on. The weight is familiar, almost comforting, but the warmth of the summer sun is a bitch out on the scene. 

Getting your pack over your shoulders and clasped around your waist, you sling your gun strap on over your head and turn to regroup.

You nearly run nose-first into Jason, catching yourself a millimeter before impact. 

“How many times are you gonna scare me today?” you breathe, only a little exasperated as you step back. 

His lips quirk as he holds up your earpiece, clicking the small flashlight attached at you until you snatch it away from him. The glare in your eyes has you groaning in disgust. 

“Rude.”

“Feelin’ better?” he chuckles. 

“Wasn't feeling particularly bad,” you say, sliding the equipment on.

You have to fiddle with your glasses’ temples and how they sit against it to ease some discomfort.

Scowling at all the hair in the way, you start to pull it up and out of your face. Little things like that can cause problems out on the field. 

“Could’ve told me it was Nick buggin’ you.”

“And that would’ve accomplished what, exactly?” You purse your lips in question, waiting on an acceptable answer as you finish securing your quick up-style.

You glance up for a second or two from where your head is tilted down.

“Besides pushing my problems onto you, that is?”

He looks to the side, defeated. You just smile. 

“You worry too much, sir.”

“I think I worry the right amount,” he argues as King orders everyone to the helos in the background. “Just want everyone’s heads screwed on straight for this.”

“Then keep an eye on Nick.”

You don’t miss his look of concern as you two follow behind the rest.

“There something going on I need to know about?” 

“That’s his business, I’m just saying if anyone seems distracted today, it’s him.” 

And who could blame the guy? Rachel’s husband is parading around and the checkpoint accident is still fresh on his mind. You’ve spent a few nights staying up late with him these last few weeks, just listening to him vent. It breaks your heart to see the guilt eating away at him. 

“All right, then.” 

The topic ends with Jason as you two stalk the halls to the entrance. You try to find something easier to divert yourselves. 

“Make sure not to rough up my artwork,” you warn, momentarily blinded by the sun as you step outside. 

Fuck the flashlight, this shit stings. You bring your hand up to block out the scorching beams. Maybe grabbing a hat would’ve been smart today. 

“Plenty of other skin to hit,” he jokes. “You focus on them legs of yours. Don’t want those hidden tattoos missin’ a piece, do we?”

He waves an arm and lets you into the helo before him. It’s one giant step to get in and you can feel the pressure of his hand on your lower back assisting you as you get a leg up. 

Merwin winks at you from his seat, smirking as he bounces his eyebrows. You take the empty spot next to Rachel. Jason follows suit on your left. 

He’s not making this any easier for me. 

Sitting across from you, Dr. Stokes is getting comfortable while Joey passes you a suspicious look.

His eyes rove to the empty spot next to him then at Jason before settling on you again. 

A troublesome grin lights up his face when you shake your head at him.

It’s not long before you reach your destination and when the nerves bite, Joey responds to the sting with jokes.

You lean your head back against the wall as “your mama” is thrown around. Even Rachel has one hidden up her sleeve, which you’ll give to her since it’s in response to Merwin’s typical bullshit. 

Jason checks on Nick up front when he’s slow to answer him on the earpiece. You can't hear what goes on between them but you catch Jason looking over his shoulder in your periphery, and with how fast he turns back around (and the way his shoulders tense up but no you're definitely not staring at his strong back if you were wondering), you have an inkling Nick is catching him up to speed on certain affairs.

By the time he sits down next to you again, he has a contemplative look over his face. You can only speculate on his thoughts.

When you'd found out about the affair it had been a lot to process simply because Nick was doing what you couldn't when it came to higher-ups.

That and you never imagined he of all people would crack the hard shell surrounding Rachel.

You never pictured them together and for obvious reasons (again, RIP the colonel). Not to mention it just seemed like a bad way to cope with the nightmare he had just been through.

It just seems like so much has happened in the last month and while none of it is happening to you, you still feel overwhelmed by it all. Insanity, plain and simple.

“That’s gotta be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dr. Stokes says, making ample conversation with the others and pulling you back into the present.

You chuckle, remembering the days your dad would recount the tall tales around his camp. They followed you here. Don’t wash the coffee pot or your hat, never look back at the helos, so on and so forth.

Clarice isn’t wrong to find them dumb, but Joey will take all the luck he can get out here. You don’t blame him after the shit you’ve seen.

“We’re good to go, marines,” hollers Jason. “And may God be my witness, we’re gonna succeed!”

“Amen to that brother.” Merwin smiles. “OORAH!”

You grin and join in on the chant, taking a deep breath as the bird descends to land. Jason pats your shoulder, offering up an encouraging smile when your head turns.

You nod, fixing your glasses one last time before pulling out the gas mask under your seat. 

Everyone on the scouting team disembarks in seconds. You land behind Merwin, gun loaded and ready as you scan the grounds.

When you catch him waving his arm at Joey and turning back, you’re quick to lunge forward and push his head straight.

“Do that and I’ll be the one putting a bullet in your ass,” you growl over the whirr of the blades.

“Damn, you are just fiery today aren’t ya?” he cackles. “Save it for the sheets, sweetheart!”

Joey sends you a look and even with your gas masks on, you know it’s one of relief as the helo flies off behind you.

It’s a quick and peaceful takeover. No Iraqi soldiers on the premises, just a group of farmers.

You stay outside, scanning the horizons as Rachel and King head inside for questioning. 

“I don’t know about you guys but something doesn’t feel right about this place,” Dr. Stokes says, looking around.

Funny how it’s the second time you’ve heard that from someone today. 

“Oh, yeah?” pipes Merwin. “So is that this, uh, women’s intuition I keep hearing about?”

“Yeah, you wanna find out what happens when you piss it off?” 

You’ll admit you still have a sinking feeling when you look at her, but damn if Clarice isn’t a fun time. Petty jealousy won’t keep you from marveling at her spirit.

“Well, shit, Van Gogh. She’s coming for your spot as Desert Queen!”

“Merwin you won that crown years ago, don’t go giving it away now,” you sally, clapping Nick’s hand when he goes in for a high five. 

“Keep up, old man. They're leaving you in the dust,” he coughs as you two split off. 

You search for Joey. You can hear him whistling—another nervous tick of his. He waves you over when you don’t spot him at first glance. You have to hop a wall to get to him but it’s an easy vault. 

“Man, Merwin almost fucked us over back there.”

“You’re giving these superstitions too much power,” you laugh, spotting Jason just before he enters the back hut where Nick stands guard. “Have some faith in your buddies, huh?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant said the same thing, more or less.”

You turn back to Joey, smug.

“Then you know I’m right.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles and you bump his arm, nudging him back around to the front. 

“Come on, go trade more of those stupid jokes with Merwin and chillax.”

“Man, don’t diss on your mama jokes. They’re my gateway to being a comedian.”

“Now that’s a joke.” 

You’ve just breached that little wall separating the front from the back when an explosion goes off from above.

Immediately, you shove Joey to the ground, both of you looking up in horror as one of the birds spirals from the sky.

“Take cover!” you yell, pushing him towards the front door to the home where Merwin and the corporal stand in shock.

When the bullets start raining down, they take off inside and Joey is quick to follow. You stay outside behind cover.  

Shuffling against the wall, you check your exposed surroundings for any shooters before aiming over the wall. One shot, two. A bullet whizzes by your ear and you duck, heart rattling in your rib cage. 

Dozen or more. We haven’t even found the silo, yet, damn. 

Jason and Nick slide in on your right, Merwin on your left. 

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Where’s Joey?!” someone yells. 

“In the house!” you answer, popping up to take out the few attackers aiming for the back door. 

“Nick, help me flank ‘em!” Jason orders, looking between you and Merwin. “Cover our asses!”

“Yes, sir!” you shout. 

Merwin chuckles as you turn to him. You both nod at one another before popping up like twin weasels from hell.

You take down two enemies as Jason breaks for barrels next to the hut, Nick in the opposite and hiding behind a tractor. 

You’ve lost sight of them by the time the ground starts shaking. 

“No fucking way,” Merwin gasps, getting to his feet and pulling you along with him. “Move your ass, princess, go!”

You keep in step with him until the ground crumbles beneath his feet. You manage to snag his pack in time to pull him back, but the momentum slides you straight towards a crumbling layer behind you. 

You scream, fingers slipping from Merwin’s pack as he falls back over your head. Your feet fly out from under you, head aiming for wherever you’re going.

The sunlight goes dark and dirt rains down over you. Something hard smashes into your temple—

The world’s silent.

Jason’s scrambling to his feet as soon as he hits the ground, spinning to check his surroundings with a trained eye.

Cave system of some kind. Dark, plenty of hiding spaces. 

Great. Just fuckin’ fantastic. 

The ache that spreads through his body and the sun peering down from far above is enough of an indicator that he took a long fall. No injuries as he considers all his joints, just sore. There’s no way back up from the looks of things, luckily, there aren't any Iraqis that tumbled with him. 

“This is Mailman-two-one, actual. Is anyone in the vicinity? Over.”

He winces at the feedback, letting his hand fall from his earpiece. Maybe with some distance covered, he’ll be able to pick up a signal from the others. If they’re down here.

He tries to think back as he goes, gun up, and flashlight clicked on to navigate the shadowed spaces.

He and the Iraqi had been at the far back of the main hut. You and Merwin were by the wall for cover, and Nick had gone in with him but took off to help flank those fuckers. 

Your face flashes through his mind a moment longer than the others, hair falling from the updo you’d done back at base.

Despite the panic in the air, your eyes had been astute as always, calculating. You never scare easily even when he comes at you asking questions. Some that may be too personal for the like of a lieutenant to ask, but damn you always make him curious. It doesn't help when Nick is involved and the suspicion starts creeping in.

“And that would’ve accomplished what, exactly?”

The memory hits hard, still fresh on his mind. It's such a weird thing to say, he knows it, but you have such expressive lips. The way you pucker them when you’re waiting on an answer you already know. “Besides pushing my problems onto you, that is?”

He hadn’t meant to stare so long. Didn’t notice until you’d looked up and he hurried to look away.

There’s something about how your hands work with your hair that nabs him. The way your brow furrows in concentration. Every damn time those glasses slip down your nose, his fingers twitch to correct them before you do. He never does. 

His chest is tight as he mulls over your location. Are you down here somewhere? Are you safe?

What the hell am I doin’? He grabs his cap, twisting it into place to get his bearings. Get your head in the game. You got an entire squad out here scattered to the four winds. 

There’s no telling who all collapsed with the floor. Hell, could’ve just been his unlucky day, standing on a weak point. 

“Jason!”

Thank the fucking Lord almighty. His friend’s got shit luck, too.

“Nick?” he responds, searching for the direction he’s calling from. 

“Jason! I’m close man. I’m coming!”

A breath puffs from his nose, lips stretching in amusement as he shakes his head. It’s just there for the taking.  

“Don’t blow your load too fast buddy,” he returns, sliding into one of the narrow tunnels ahead. It’s a fucking maze down here. Sun streams in from breaks in the surface far above every once in a while but the dark spots win out without how often he's using his flashlight. 

Breaking off from the tight cavern into a larger section, he realizes this shithole is much bigger than anticipated. It’s not a cave system—it’s an underground temple or something similar. That being said, he ain’t no history buff. He couldn’t care less about this long-lost museum exhibit. Just give him a safety report on his team and cold one back at the base. That’ll do just fine.

A tremor sends dust raining over him as he goes further in, catching movement on his right. His gun is up, flashlight turning with his head.

“That you, Nick?”

They recognize one another, posture relaxing as they meet in the middle to take in the massive hand ahead of them.

“Well,” breathes Jason, nodding to the hand statue, “ain’t that something? Where on God’s green earth have we landed?”

No answer. He can see the tension in the marine next to him, head darting around on high alert. The fall must’ve spooked him. 

“We need to get back topside, regroup with the rest of the squad, and signal for medivac. This place ain’t no weapon silo but it’s sure as fuck crawling with Iraqis.”

He watches his comrade as he looks behind them. Shit, Van Gogh was kiddin’. He hasn’t been right all day.

“Nick? Servant Kay!” he barks, finally gaining his attention. “Pull yourself together. Eyes wide!”

“I saw somethin’.”

“What do you mean saw somethin’?”

“I mean it wasn’t human.” Nick gives him a hard stare. “In the tunnel.”

Inside, Jason is livid. Fuckin’ something, he says. Their team is off who fucking knows where hurt or worse, and Nick’s jumping at shadows.

“She was right, I fuckin’ knew it,” Jason sighs, head swinging from side to side. “I knew you weren’t ready for this.”

“I swear to God!”

“Do not get God involved in this bullshit. Now I don’t wanna hear another fuckin’ word.” He raises his hand, voice laced with aggression. “You pull your shit together right fuckin’ now before you get us both killed!”

“You gotta believe me.”

He shuts him down real quick because the truth is Nick didn’t see shit and he knows it. His affair with Rachel or that damn checkpoint is still digging away at him and now his brain is compromised. Jason will have to deal with this later, for now, he just needs the man to snap out of it long enough to get back to safety. 

With an air of finality around his superior, Nick relents and they head deeper into the ancient underground. Conversation is terse, but Nick still had some humor in him. Looks like neither of them are history buffs. 

"Did you really think it was her?"

"What?" he asks, their eyes meeting as they walk side by side, scanning every dark corner that comes up.

"Back on the helo." He sighs at the reminder, embarrassment putting him in a chokehold as Nick just laughs. "You really think I would be foolin' around with Van when it obvious you like her? C'mon, man, I ain't that cruel."

Jason throws a hand up, letting his weapon drop as he faces Nick.

"She was sittin' next to Rachel—the hell was I supposed to think? Seemed a lot more likely with how much you two hang out. That and the Queen bitch is apparently married now."

"We're friends; that's what friends do. You know she'd be around you 24/7 if she could; I know you ain't that dumb."

"Don't start that shit up again—"

"Because you know I'm right?" Nick scoffs as Jason lours at him, his hand bouncing around him as he continues to rattle off. "She likes you, you like her. Why can't you two just fuck already?"

"Kay, watch you're fuckin' mouth or I swear. I'm not taking this from you right now. Focus on the fuckin' mission before I knock some sense into you."

Nick smacks his lips, indignantly, rolling his shoulders as he walks ahead. "Yes, sir, Lieutenant, sir. Bunch of blind fuckin' idiots in this squad, damn..."

Jason pretends to not hear that last bit or else he'll be down a soldier in these catacombs. Nick is in for it when they get back to base, that's for damn sure. Calling him blind? If anyone is blind it's you and not because of the specs. He's not an idiot, hell, he has known for a while or suspects anyway, how you might just be soft on him, too. But things aren't that easy when you're caught up in a war and they're a shit of a lot harder when he knows things he shouldn't. Because while, yes, he has his reputation to think about as well as yours, there is a lot more to the story than that. And if it was just as simple as fucking, he's sure it would've happened within the first year as all things go with the "new teammate" setup being what it was.

I wish it were that easy, especially with the two-way street Nick seems to be so sure of. You're a social butterfly, you treat Joey and Nick the same way you treat him. It wouldn't be that surprising if this "you liking him" business is just Nick assuming things.

“This thing is heavier than it looks. Give me a hand.” Jason turns away from another statue to find him waving to a set of doors. “Gonna need more muscle.”

“You been skippin’ gym again?” he goads, spinning his gun strap around to his chest. He places both hands higher up on the frame of the door, Nick pulling lower down. They get it moving when an ear-splitting scream shoots from the other side. 

In an instant, a chill shoots down his spine, stomach twisting. There’s no doubt in his mind as he and Nick scamper through the space in the door.