#phandom writes

The first time it happened it was two weeks after the Bartlett University incident. The whole team had decided to sit down and watch some dumb movie Jack or Jordan had recommended. The problem was, despite such brilliant minds being there, they couldn’t get the tv to work.

While the “geniuses” were working everyone else was settling amongst the pillows and blankets. Doc had designated a couch for Marius who had twisted his ankle badly earlier that day and needed to elevate it. He was also a little bit out of it due to pain killers that he had been given.

“I don’t have a “highschool” degree,” Marius said in a moment of relative silence. He was staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Was?” Monica, who was working on the tv, turned around.

“I never finished primary school.”

“For real?” Emmanuella looked at him incredulously. “How do you know all this engineering crap and get into a university?”

“Practical application. You can get a certification without a degree anyway,” the German said like it was the most well known thing. Before he could elaborate more, the tv started to work.

The second time it happened, Rainbow had grown by a factor of six. Several operators were drinking at one of the bars near base. It was getting late and most of the operators still there were night owls, those who could hold their liquor, or both. Marius was sitting at the bar with Shuhrat staring at a golden eagle mounted on the wall. Without turning to face his drinking partner the German spoke.

“I’m pretty sure my parents were spies.”

The Usbek sitting next to him slowly turned and stared at him in confusion. Seamus moved over and leaned in.

“Did I hear that right?” the Scottsman asked.

“Ja,” the German responded simply.

“Care to elaborate?” Tina, who was sitting a few seats down the bar piped up.

“They died under suspicious circumstances and had plans already in place before they died for my uncle to adopt me if anything happened.”

“Didn’t they die in a car wreck?” Dominic asked from further down the bar, without lifting his head from where it was resting on his arms.

“A suspicious car wreck,” Marius stated and walked out.

The remaining operators stared at each other in confusion, then at Dominic for an explanation. The second German merely shrugged as if to say, ‘I know as much as you.’

After an OP one cold day, several of Rainbows operators were sitting around, waiting for Jager and Thunderbird to fix the helicopter from some small issue. Several operators were complaining about the cold, specifically some operators from warmer countries, oh and the French, because they like to complain. Doc had his shoulders up to his ears trying to stay warm when he turned to Monty and in French said:

“*When are the pilots going to be done? We are all going to be dead from the cold.*”

“*I hope soon,*” Gilles responded in the same language. Just then he spotted Jager coming around the other side of the helo and turned back to Doc. “*Maybe our little German boy can tell us.*”

Jager smiled at both men.

“Oh don’t worry,” he said in English, “the chopper is fixed and we can get loaded up now.”

Both Frenchmen looked confused, had Marius just understood their French or had he merely anticipated what they would ask.

“*How did he do that?*” Rook chimed in. “*Is he just magical?*”

“*I doubt it,*” Doc rolled his eyes.

“How did I do what?” Marius looked at them both confused.

“How did you know what Monty was going to ask,” Rook explained.

“Oh, I just heard you talking about me having an answer for you and I did.”

“We were speaking French, Marius, and language you do not speak,” Gustave clarified.

“I do. I speak French.”

“Since when?” It was Thermite’s turn to pipe up.

“Since forever, I guess.”

“Your file lists two languages,” the American continued. “They are English and German, not French.”

“I guess I forgot to mention it.”

Marius was falling asleep at dinner one night when Julien decided he’d see if could exploit the geman’s sleepy mood to discover another piece of what the team had come to call “Jager lore”.

“Hey Mari, what was it like being raised by your uncle all your life?”

“Not all my life,” Marius said, not opening his half closed eyes. “I was two when my parents died. My mom wasn’t German though.”

“What?”

“My mom was from Belgium.”

“Guess that explains the French.”

“Yup,” the German responded before putting his head on the table and starting to snore softly.

Fin.

The thing he would be complaining about was the cold, because of course a man who survived a Russian gulag would want to go back to his home town in freezing Anchorage, Alaska. It was so sparse there, Woods internally compared it to a gulag but would never say that out loud. His complaints as he stepped off a train, were quickly silenced when a short bundle of coats and scarves rammed into his stomach with a cry of “Uncle Frank!” He returned the hug and looked up to see the older Mason walking towards him.

“Good to see you Frank,” Alex held out his hand, but Woods said screw it and pulled his friend into a hug, creating a David sandwich. “I hope the journey didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Any travel that isn’t funded by the United States Military is a dream, but I think if I stay here too long I’ll forget what my toes feel like.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Mason smiled. “And don’t worry we heat the houses really well here, your toes will be back in no time.”

With that they were off to Alex’s car. The drive was pretty, if a landscape frankly drowned in snow could be called pretty. David chatted to Frank the whole drive, giving his father a chance to focus on driving safely on slick roads. When they got to the small house, Alex dropped David and Frank off at the front door and pulled around back to park the car.

Walking in the front door, Frank could almost immediately see small signs of Alex’s “quirks” gained in Vortuka, the CIA, and the United States Marine Corps. Although David had unlocked the door with a single key, there was also a deadlock and a chain lock on the inside of the front door. As he was led to his room, he saw things that could be classified as weapons in each corner, a fire poker here, a baseball bat there. Passing through the living room there were pillows and blankets on the couch, as well as a few empty beer bottles on the side table. Every window, including the one in his room, had a lock as did every door.

He heard Alex come in downstairs, and David ran off to talk to his father, leaving Frank alone on the second floor. Moving to follow, Woods passed Alex’s room. Giving into his curiosity he looked inside. The queen sized bed was unmade, the blankets all shoved to the bottom. Under it Frank could see the end of a military storage case and a gun locker stood in the far corner. Next to the bed one nightstand had an alarm clock, dog tags (Alex’s), and a book. The other had a much more feminine look, a pretty lamp, a dish with jewelry, and a small Bible adorned the top of it. That bedside table was covered in a thick layer of dust.

A minute later downstairs, in the living room, as Alex was cleaning up his bed on the couch, making dinner suggestions, and getting them shot down by David, Frank took a closer look at the mantle and the picture hung around the room. A few metals were on display (Frank knew where each one came from) as well as a few family pictures. There was one of Alex looking overwhelmed and happy holding a newborn David, several more of David throughout the years doing different things his parents thought should be documented. There were a few pictures of Alex as a child (this had been his parents home) as well as a few from early military service.

Frank smiled when he saw some of him and Mason together in ‘Nam and other places they had been deployed. He flipped off a picture that included Hudson. Looking closer at the ones he knew were post Vortuka, he could see the “look” in Mason’s eyes. He wondered how he’d downplayed it so much when they had been in it, when in every photo, smiling or not, Alex’s eyes had an oddly vacant or distracted look. Then again, ‘Nam was pretty rough, so he could have some grace in not noticing how much his friend was really there.

In the middle of the mantle was a picture shoved behind the rest and covered in dust; from what Frank could see it was a family photo of Alex, his wife, and toddler David. Next to that was a picture laying face down. Frank gently lifted it to see a wedding photo, written across the bottom in silver ink it said, “the beginning of the best days of our life, -with all my love, Amelia”. In the picture Alex and Amelia were posed under an arch of roses, looking happy as can be. Frank guessed the spots where pictures were missing or turned face down, were ones of Amelia Mason, the grief of her loss being pushed away instead of processed. Frank couldn’t fault his friend for that, he was pretty shoddy at processing grief as well.

Finally, Alex came up with a meal plan that David was satisfied with, and the three of them went into the kitchen to make it together. David had demanded that Uncle Frank had to help, and he couldn’t deny the 11 year old. In the kitchen, Woods could see other signs that Amelia had once lived here. The kitchen was furnished with every amenity a housewife would want, down to the teal toaster oven. He was pulled from his thoughts about the matching refrigerator, when something hit him in the face. He looked from the flowery apron that had just hit him to Alex who was grinning widely at him.

“Come on Frank, Vik’s not in that corner, and you gotta help us cook,” The twinkle in his eye told Frank he was joking about the Russian.

“Let’s hope he’s not in any corner,” the GI pulled the garish apron on and set to work helping make dinner.

Only a week after the team had returned from Truth and Consequences, Finka visited Doc in the med bay for the first time. The conversation had been innocuous, some follow up about the Chimera Virus. The doctor had been working in the main area of the med bay, rather than his office. After leaving Lera couldn’t shake the feeling that she and the doctor were being watched. Nothing terribly sinister, just the simple feeling of being observed. Thinking back, Finka didn’t remember seeing anyone else in there, as Jäger, the only patient, had moved back to his own room, where he was far more comfortable.

Over the next couple of weeks Lera noticed the same feeling, but only when she was talking to Doctor Kateb. She thought about asking him about it, or Oliver, except the latter might start a fight. Finally, after three weeks, Lera had had enough, so she approached the next closest person to Gustave to see if he knew anything: Gilles “Montagne” Toures.

She approached him one quiet evening in the common room. Most other operators were doing their own things elsewhere or had gone out to the pub for a pint and Lera and Gilles were virtually alone in the common area. Gilles sat on a couch reading a book titled Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. She sat on a chair catty corner to him and he looked up.

“Um, hello, Toures, I hope I’m not interrupting your reading.”

The older man chuckled, a rich, warm sound and shook his head. He then inclined his head for her to continue.

“I have an odd question, but one I don’t know who else to ask,” she watched his face for any adverse reaction, but none came. He merely maintained his previous warm expression, waiting patiently for her to continue. “Do you ever feel like you're being watched when you talk to Doctor Kateb?”

The Frenchman looked incredulous then seemed to think for a moment. “Non,” he finally responded. “But I may know what you are-” he paused searching for the word “-signifier, oh, what you mean.” He stopped speaking, realizing his faulty English was probably hard to understand. “I know, what the feeling you have, I understand it. You are aware of Gustave’s “Chien de Garde”. His, uh, guard dog.”

“His guard dog?”

“Oui, I can introduce you.”

“Why not?” Lera chuckled, still slightly confused.

Gilles stood and beckoned for her to follow him, “Viens.”

The two walked to the med bay together in companionable silence, and a bit of anticipation on Lera’s part. Upon arriving Lera saw the med bay looked empty, aside from the doctor organizing something. The minute they were fully in the room, the CBRN specialist felt like she was being watched.

“Bonsoir, Docteur,” Gilles greeted.

“Salut, vieil ami. добрый вечер, Lera. What brings the two of you here so late? Not an injury I hope.”

“Non,” Gilles smiled, with just the slightest hint of mischief in his eyes. “Lera wanted to meet your Chien de Garde.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He is in my office if you wish to speak with him.” He turned back to what he was doing.

“Not any more,” a voice said from the doorway of the aforementioned office. Lera looked and there stood Dominic Brunsmeir. Lera had never met the man formally, but he had been waiting for the team when they had returned from T&C, only to remain at Jager’s side till he was released back to his own room. She had heard jokes and whispers about him possibly being a drug dealer, though she doubted that. She realized in that moment that his intense brown eyes observing her was the feeling she had felt all those times talking with the doctor.

“I don’t see why you find it necessary to terrorize everyone, Dom,” Gustave sighed, breaking the silence.

“I'm not terrorizing anyone, artz, just keeping you company,” the German smiled, attempting to look innocent and failing.

“Why do you hate him?”

Lera and Gustave had been working quietly in the medbay when she voiced her question.

“Who?”

“Olivier. Why do you hate him?”

Gustave sighed and set down what he was doing.

“I don’t.”

He paused again, turning in his chair to face the CBRN specialist.

“I did for a time. Hate him.” Gustave hesitated again and Lera could see this was something hard for him to admit.

“He was the reason for my colleagues, my friends' deaths, so for a while I hated him. I saw him as a murderer.” There was a distant look in Gustave’s eyes, whether he was remembered or distancing himself from the topic Lera could not tell. Maybe both. He spoke again keeping his voice level and even.

“Then I eventually realized it was not him, but the truth he revealed so clearly to me that I hated. It’s a truth I’d seen before but somehow been able to block out and forget. Maybe it was because Emma was there, maybe not, I do not know. All I know is that in that decision Olivier made he showed me once again I cannot save everyone. No matter how hard I try, what I learn, the technology I have available, I cannot save everyone. And I hated that Olivier was a glaring reminder of that.”

The doctor went silent and took a deep breath. Lera could see unshed tears in his eyes. He took another shaky breath and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the Russian said softly.

“Don’t be. You deserve to know why I am so cold to him. He is your friend after all.”

After a pause Lera looked up. “Do you think someday he could be your friend?”

“Maybe. Someday. If he stopped being so pretentious and difficult,” Gustave gave her a watery smile.

Lion approached the med bay very nearly whispering for it to be empty under his breath. He had mulled over his conversation with Finka for several days before deciding to get an answer for himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Lera, rather part of him still didn’t trust Gustave fully. Maybe the doctor had lied to the Russian because she was his friend. Still Olivier had decided to find out the truth, even if it meant yelling at Gustave to get that information.

He entered the med bay and saw the door to Gustave’s office in the back open and the light was on. The doctor was in. Lion took a deep breath and approached the office. He stepped into the doorway and the doctor looked up and did a double take. Probably expecting someone else. The doctor looked back at his computer screen, as if Olivier would disappear if he looked away, before sighing and looking back up.

“Yes?” Gustave said in English.

“Can I come in?” Olivier decided he was going to let the other man have some control over the conversation, or maybe he hoped the other would say no.

“Oui,” the doctor rolled his eyes.

“So I was thinking these past few days,” Olivier paused to try to gauge the doctor’s mood. He was looking back at his computer, typing intermittently.

“Always a dangerous pastime.”

Ignoring the comment, Lion continued.

“Lera said you don’t hate me.” Olivier fully stopped waiting for the doctor to react. It took him about a minute before he looked up.

“Quoi?” Gustave raised an eyebrow looking straight at the CBRN Specialist.

“Lera said you don’t hate me.”

Gustave folded his hands, looked at his computer, then at Olivier, then off into the middle distance.

“What Lera said is true, but,” he pointed at Olivier for emphasis, “but, that does not mean that I am not upset with you. I haven’t forgiven you, nor have you asked for my forgiveness, merely made peace with what I cannot change.”

“I need to ask for your forgiveness?” Olivier sat forward in his seat. The gall of Gustave to say something like that.

“Do you think you have never made a wrong decision? That you can do no wrong? That your actions have never gotten anyone killed?” Olivier’s famous voice rose and he stood leaning over Gustave’s desk. “I have worked and toiled for years to be the man I am today! I have asked God to forgive my sins! I do not need your pardon and I do not want it! You are stuck up and pretentious and do not care for others' battles if they do not concern you! Everything in your life was given to you and you worked for none of it!”

Olivier had not meant to get so worked up but here he was, leaning into Gustave’s personal space and yelling at him. He took a breath and straightened up. Gustave was pale and looked frightened. Good, Lion though, then regretted it. The older man looked as if he wanted to say something, opening and closing his mouth like a fish for a few seconds. He looked down, straightening a few items on his desk before he looked up again and spoke. His voice was soft and hesitant when he finally began.

”Olivier, I’m sorry. While you are wrong about the fact that I have never struggled, you are correct that I do not know what you have been through. I do not need an apology from you, but…” The doctor trailed off and put his face in his hands.

Olivier waited for him to continue, but Gustave remained there with his face in his hands. The doctor finally looked up, tears threatening to spill down his face.

“What you did, Olivier, hurt me in a way that I do not fully understand. I took out my anger and confusion on you, I should not have. I do not have an understanding of your God, and how you can fall back on him. I do not understand why or how he forgives, but if I am not mistaken, He gives second chances. I wish to also give you a second chance, if you will give me one, but I, like you, am broken. It is hard for me, but I wish to make a change. I want to forgive you, but I don’t know how.”

The tears were now falling silently down the doctor's face. Olivier felt horrible for yelling at the man.

“Tell me if I overstep, but if you wish I can tell you about how my God forgives. And I too am sorry.”

Gustave nodded. Lion continued.

“I know we cannot fix this issue between us with one conversation, but I believe we will work towards it, maybe with Lera’s help. I’ll talk to her and we can begin to work through this with either her or Gilles present, how does that sound?”

Gustave nodded again, still too emotional to respond verbally.

Outside the medbay Lera watched Gilles relax. The fight had been in French and she could not understand it.

“I am thinking this is progress,” Gilles patted Lera on the shoulder. “They will be brothers yet.”

“Though they may need our help too.” Lera smiled up at the old Frenchman.

“Oui.”