#zrs2

This was a very hard question to answer! Ngl, my favourite missions are definitely the later series (hello to listening s7m32 in pure darkness) but S1/2 does hold a big place in my heart because I love all the character development/dynamics that we see starting to emerge. (There’s so many good 5am moments to pick from).

- S1 finale is just *chefs kiss* I’ve drawn it so many times I can’t believe it

- S2 m18 - Dark and Long 😌

- S2M4 - we used to be friends.

- s2M30 Panic - for the above bit of dialogue alone 😌

- S2M32 Tightrope - >:)

- I do just love the whole of the 5k because I love watching Five and Sam’s friendship starting to develop?

- Can I say the whole of Radio mode season 1 and 2 too? Best seasons for me, will never lie.

Honestly, though, most of my favourite bits of S1 and S2 happen between the episodes, things I’ve filled in with my brain of what happens to Five in Abel.

Like, after the mission I drew, there’s an angsty bit of conversation I picture Five and Sam having where Five insists that Sam puts Abel first from now on, which is what leads to Tightrope because he’s sticking to his promise. Or, after S2M4 - when five is finally back in Abel, there’s lots of emotional greeting from their friends, before they find themselves moving into Janine’s pantry because there’s nowhere else for them.

Sara watched as Janine’s shoulders slumped. She put down the soldering iron, leaning the tip against an oil stained scrap piece of cloth, then turned to see Sara.

As soon as she took off the plastic goggles, Sara could see the dark under eye circles even in the low light of dusk.

She began to walk towards the table again, putting down the two mugs of tea she’d been carrying - one mug decorated with little hand painted flowers and another with “World’s Best Grandad” written in blue capital letters. Usually, Janine was a stickler for using a coaster on the tables in her house, but Sara assumed she didn’t care as much about this temporary table, already covered in little stains and scuff marks.

“Both the same.” She commented as she quickly grabbed a stool from the other side of the room that was next to a broken window and a bright red toolbox, colour chipping off.

It prompted Janine to grasp the flowery mug on the left, wrapping her delicate hands around it. She brought it to her lips, taking a small inhale of the warmth.

Sara almost felt like she was intruding as Janine’s harsh mask seemed to melt away with the rising steam. She placed the stool at the short end of the table, perching there silently.

Janine blew a steady exhale onto the hot liquid, then took a sip of the drink.

And immediately spluttered.

Sara couldn’t help the little smirk that turned up one corner of her mouth.

“Good grief,” Janine remarked after she caught her breath, “how much whiskey is in this?”

Sara simply shrugged, “It’s medicinal.”

“Which is why we should be saving it for the hospital in case of emergencies-”

“Using a 17 year old bottle like this on a graze? It would make my granda turn in his grave.” 

“But-”

“Janine.” The single word was full of authority, “Just drink it, okay?”

The woman looked like she still wanted to argue, but then all the fire diminished from her and she instead resigned to taking another sip. This time, she only winced slightly.

The two sat in silence for a while, comfortable. They could easily hear the voices of people outside as they walked past, bringing essential supplies and organising where they should be placed whilst most of the buildings were still needing to be repaired or rebuilt.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Sara’s gaze snapped over to Janine.

She didn’t show any indication that she’d even said anything, her brown eyes just staring into the mug.

Sara's stomach churned at how feeble Janine looked. She was usually so full of confidence and bravado. She always assumed it was a result of her military upbringing. How she’d lost her parents so young, forced to grow up before any child should. There was no trace of that woman now, only a shell left.

Sara put down her mug and shuffled forward on her stool to place a hand on either side of Janine’s shoulders, gentle but firm.

“You are not only going to do it, but do it well.” She said, her voice steady.

She didn’t move her gaze, or any of her body, “I can’t-”

“Janine.”

She finally looked up, making eye contact with Sara. Her eyes were watery, mouth pinched together.

Sara felt a tight squeeze in her chest at the sight, “Oh, come here, love.”

Without hesitation, she moved forward, carefully taking the mug from Janine and placing it on the table, then wrapped her arms around her, a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

She didn’t need to look to know that the tears had started streaming down her face, her body shaking in her hold. 

It took a few moments, but eventually Janine returned the hug, squeezing tightly as the sobs became audible, echoing around the empty room.

“It’s my home-” Janine said in a choked voice, the words muffled as she pressed her face into the junction of Sara’s neck and shoulder. 

Her cold nose pressed against the sensitive skin made Sara shiver, but she suppressed it as well as she could, “I know. I’m sorry.” The words felt empty, but she hoped they were at least some comfort.

“How do I do this-” The last word barely left her mouth before another wave of sobs came over Janine.

“With us.” She pulled away to look Janine in the eyes, “With me.”

Sometimes, Sara forgot just how young Janine was. She was always so put together. Authoritative. In control. It was hard to forget that she wasn’t infallible. That the defences she put up could be broken down just as the walls of the township had.

She braced her hands on Janine’s cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe away the tears that streaked down.

Janine ever so slightly tilted her head to lean into one hand with a sigh, seemingly sinking into the touch.

Sara couldn’t help but smile as her heart swelled at the little gesture, even if it was unintentional. 

“You look after all of us,” she said, words in a whisper, “who looks after you?”

Janine wrinkled her nose so much that Sara could feel the skin pulling beneath her palms, “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

“Bullshit,” Sara said, with no accusatory tone behind the word, unlike usual, “Everyone needs someone.”

Janine opened her mouth then closed it again, seemingly speechless. After a few moments, she finally replied, “Who would be unfortunate enough to be tasked with that job?” The words were meant to be teasing, but they didn’t quite come out that way, instead seeming more melancholy.

She smiled, rolling her eyes affectionately, “Someone who might also be a hard-headed individual that is too stubborn for their own good sometimes.”

Janine hummed in mock thought, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards into a concealed smile, “I think I know someone like that.”

Sara couldn’t help but return the expression, a giddy feeling that had been long dormant erupting in her chest for the first time in a long while.

She examined Janine’s gentle features, caressing her thumbs against the soft skin again even though there were no more tears. 

She moved forward infinitesimally, barely noticeable. Still, Janine’s eyes widened just a fraction, always aware of even the smallest changes. Then, she took a small breath and began to lean forward herself as her eyes scanned Sara’s expression.

Before they could meet, Sara instead tilted her head up, pressing a soft, caring kiss against Janine’s forehead. The latter’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact, breathing deeply as the remaining tension left her body.

After a long pause, Sara pulled back, her own cheeks a tinge of pink.

“So.” She cleared her throat, moving her hands away with herculean effort and instead grasping her own thighs to stop her from reaching out again, “What do you need help with first, ma’am?”

Janine chuckled, the fondness leaving her expression but still remaining relaxed, “Right now, I need someone to drink with.”