2nd Lt. Juliet 'RUG' Scully

SEAL TEAM 6

[Application: PENDING]

Pity, she was indeed pretty. For an American that is. Any other situation, he would've bought her dinner, bought her a drink or offered her a ride home. But time was running out for both of them and besides, it wasn't like he was trying to get on her good side.

Well, at least she had an angelic face and could've still had before he had his men 'interrogate' her. Now, her eyes were nothing more but bloodshot and black eyes, her hair tangled and chopped from trying to escape. Even the left side of her face seems to resemble the underside of a boot. And Alexi couldn't have been more so pleased by the way her torn shirt had exposed a lot of flesh for him to see.

"It's a pity, you could've been something else rather than this." He teased, knowing he would never give up his chance on hearing her scream. That sadistic shrill of her voice as she begs for him to stop, to just let her die, oh the thought had sent chills down his spine. How thrilling could the real thing even could possibly be? " Not battered, not bruised and not overpowered. If you would just let me..."

"Fuck you."

Juliet was weaker than she thought as her voice cracked in the end. Even not finishing the sentence, Juliet already knew what he wanted and she wasn't going to give up without a final fight. All the training, the mental barriers she had fought to keep up all these years in battle, they weren't going to be in vain. She wasn't going to give up that easily. He wasn't going to have a good time.

She wasn't going to let him break her.

The horrible yellow light from above makes Juliet squints, as if seeing through her black eyes weren't enough to be endured. Seeing Alexi, the man who had caught her as she was going back to the exfill point made her stomach churn in indescribable anger. Just as he sits opposite of her, examining, looking, trespassing, Juliet couldn't help but feel disgust.

"Maybe later." He shrugs nonchalantly, smiling as she growls threateningly. Sighing, he stands up and walks over to her form. Even as he sees her nose was bleeding no more, the awful mess of his boys had still left her looking fragile. Another smile comes into his face. "For now, I'll take pleasure in seeing the light turn off from your pretty chocolate eyes okay?"

As he tries to grab her chin, she bites at his fingers. The action causes him to slap her hard on the cheek, but Juliet felt a little bit comforted to see his middle finger bleed out. "You're not going away from here okay? You're going to be mine, you're going to suffer, alright, badly. Your so called friends, they left you here. And I'm grateful for the toy, maybe I'll even send them a postcard.

"Because like it or not honey," He says, the smile reaching his eyes as he brings out a knife from his cargo pants.

"I know how to break you."

And somewhere, a breaching charge opens the door.

Scars fade, wounds heal but never did she underestimate the gravity of pain he inflicted on her. There was always that dark cloud hanging in the air around Juliet, even after the few months she's been given a chance to rest and rehabilitate. One black thought always lingered in Juliet's mind in particularly late nights that kept her at sleep's edge. Even when fatigue had rested on her body and the exhaustion from a day's work had depleted any of her energy, her mind could not just simply shut it down on its own. She'd lay restless on her top bunk; sometimes watching the moon's brilliant rays streak down from the small window or listening to the heartfelt snores of her friends in envy. Like it or not, ever since two years ago, she was never the same.

It was on there particular nights Juliet finds herself looking at the close ceiling above, different trains of thoughts racing in her head. She awaits for that moment of complete physical collapse, wherein she'll finally fall into dreamless slumber, but finds no comfort when her eyes just refuses to shut. Neither the heavy pounding of rain on the roof nor the comfort of possible promotion tomorrow could lull her into the sleep she most wanted. Because as always, her mind had other things, busier doings since she has tried to be preoccupy herself during daylight and the unresolved amblings in her head just doesn't seem to respect her discomfort.

I know how to break you.

Juliet narrows her eyes at the ceiling as if it had offended her. Her calloused hands found its way to her forehead where she kneaded it with gusto. She bits her cheek to prevent her from cursing the invisible voice in her head and with it Juliet managed to keep her head intact, curling to her side in relief. The voices wouldn't just leave her alone, would they? And I couldn't have one damn night's rest, she thought bitterly, refusing to let her will break and memories loose.

The bolts under her bed creaked a little and Juliet tried to hide the shallowness in her breathing.

"Hey Rug, are you up?," she heard a particular voice ask, hoarse from waking up. "I know you have a big day in front of you, but don't you think 0400 is a bit too much?"

Juliet tries to smile in the dark as her bunkmate shifted. Charlie. Of course.

"Nah, just wondering when I'll take a try on proving I'm no squirt in the playing field." She lies humorously.

Juliet could already imagine the crease of worry in Charlie's forehead when it came to these types of things. It was shortly after he was accepted did his caring attitude came out and when it did, he could spot the different problems each one of the guys had like Sherlock Holmes. It wasn't really a surprise to have him named Cyrus after the Persian King after different encounters. What can anyone say, the kid had a knack of knowing stuffs altogether. Even near dawn and half-asleep, he'd somehow sensed the jittery nerves from the lieutenant above him.

Near dawn, Juliet thinks silently, wincing at the remaining hours to sleep as if they were annoying truths in life. She wanted to just give up and take an AWOL or something, but she knew she couldn't. And she wouldn't either.

"Is it about the joint op later?"

"No." Juliet lies in vain when she heard Charlie gave a chuckle. "Okay, maybe it's some battle jitters okay?"

"Stay calm. Don't worry, you'll flatten them. Just don't let them get to you." Charlie chided. Juliet could hear his rhythmic breathing and tried to mimic it. "The last time wasn't planned thoroughly, I know there's nothing to go wrong with this one."

"I won't. I'm one of the tactical officers on it right?" She chides to both him and herself, feeling the aching in her body go numb for a while, something she learned as her body finally sinking into oblivion as she laid down. "Thanks for the tip anyway bro."

"Don't worry, that's what I'm here for." Charlie yawns and Juliet heard him stir. "I love you sis."

"Love you too."

"You're going to be great tomorrow, I just know it." His final words were almost lost as he drifts to sleep. In a groggy mumble, he moved a bit and uttered his last words before returning to bed. "Get back to sleep- even when we were kids, you were always peaceful after sleeping."

Juliet wiggles to the edge of her bed to peek at the sleeping sergeant's form below. With a sad and mournful look, she looks away and closes her eyes, the feeling of dread creeping into her system but slow enough to not mind it for now. "I never had, but for you, I'll try."

~o~o~

For snipers, it was all about perspective. They see the whole playing field before anyone does. With their long ranged position, it makes them least likely to almost impossible to kill and let's face it- their distance from the flying bullets is Eden in a warzone. They're tough and they're not queasy. One held breath would mean death to another. Snipers pick their fights and those who are good enough survives the food chain of the battlefield.

But on this moment, Juliet finds the tables turned as she traces the grooves and details of her standard issued Intervention and under the hawk-eyed glare of commanding officer General Shepherd. After waking up almost two hours after she slept, she finds herself yelled at while packing her gear and being shoved into a chopper. It was a good thing she was briefed on where she would be going the night before, or else the sudden change of climate from the usual sunny California turned into the unforgiving air of Russia. With some Task Force she was supposed to help sniping with, she was generally fine with it, being able to handle joint operations before. But when learning that the other members were camping the night on the destination and having to join Shepherd's ride there she didn't even have the time to wrap her mind around what she would be doing around him.

Admittedly, the General's presence alone had made a statement when they stopped for a fuel break and she was transported into a Pave Low. He was a high respected general, the superhero status everyone in the career had dreamed of achieving before dying. The kind of existence that would radiate authority and command, whose look seemed like judging every little dark corner in your mind and the scars that backs up his experience. This was the man who'll kill them all if that's what he wanted to. The man who had fought for his pride and honor after years of what pain the soldiers have been enduring for so long. A man to be feared and to be admired at the same time.

"What's your Callsign?"

"Rug sir." She says, trying to not make her voice irritatingly squeaky and high pitch as it always was. Rug was a fairly good name, nothing too fancy and nothing too long. Being furniture under everyone's feet, the boys back home told her she was like it, silent and you'd never know it was even there in the first place until it was too late. It was actually quite comforting to back it up with the compliments she received on a job well done when all she did was fall flat on her stomach and pulled the trigger. Rug was sort of an invitation for her into the inner family of the SEALs, as if having one meant you're genuinely allowed to share that packs of cigars in late evenings or to talk about what-if dreams left back home. Juliet took pride in wearing it too.

"SEAL Team Six. Must be pretty good with a weapon to be with the big boys huh?"

Unknowingly, Juliet felt like it had struck a nerve. With her finger itching to just show him how she came to be, Juliet succeeds to just dig her fingers into her open and waiting palm. "Excuse me sir but I believe I wasn't picked because of my good looks."

The Shepherd assesses her, from the spiky red hair under her standard helmet, to the scars on her face, his gaze never faltering even when Juliet visible shrunk back to her seat, scowl still in place as she finishes her job and pulls the safety on. When she thought she had pushed too far, the General surprises her with a chuckle. "Fair enough, I'm not going to pry it out."

Juliet looks up, her face surprised and bemused to know the General took her statement lightly. But as she did, his look become serious, closed and cut off. "As long as you stay alive, I'm not going to blame your team's judgment skills."

Gulping down a nervous whimper, she nodded her head in agreement and fell silent, waiting as the pave low shook in landing turbulence.

"General, glad to see it wasn't a bad flight. We've been seeing a lot of air traffic now and then, probably moving their tanks further south." A commanding voice laced with a familiar Scottish accent waved into the air, shortly after the ramp opened for them to get off. Juliet covers her eyes as the dull sun reflected back on the bright white snow, making her momentarily blind and oblivious until she could adjust to her surroundings. "But the mission's still on good terms. It'll be too late to back out now- with Roach setting up precautionary C4s on the side of the mountain."

Once Juliet recovers, she stumbles after the General, annoyed of his fast pace when she struggles to carry her two kilo weapon. The cold air greets her, the wrapped scarf on her face protecting most of her face but it also gave her little view of the terrain. All she could see was white snow, mossy trees, a white mountain that looked like it would startle an avalanche anytime and of course, a dozen silhouettes going to and fro, not even noticing her.

"Thanks for the heads up Captain. I'm pretty sure it would be a go. I didn't work through paper work of transferring soldiers all across the globe for nothing." The General replies, stiffly making his way through the camp, unbelievably light on his feet as he didn't even sink on the slushy ice. "I believe I'm done with the formalities MacTavish, go get the Fresh Meat into basic S.O.P. and I'll be inside the main tent."

"FNG sir?"

"Probably."

"Aye." The burly man sighs, turning around. As always, it's always me with the FNGs, he thinks. As he does, the girl behind him smiles.

"It's glad to see you're doing well Soap."

Juliet could never have had been happier to see a familiar face among the unfamiliar team. Even now, as his hair was slowly turning white along the edges, Soap's face still made her smile in relief. It had been four years since they last met- it was their first meeting, but it wasn't unforgettable as they did save the world from Imran Zakhaev.

But Soap didn't share the same emotion.

"Who the bloody hell are ye?" He asks, an eyebrow arched as he tried to remember in vain.

"Oh right." Juliet says, inching back as if offended. A crease appeared on her forehead in worry. What if he forgot? "I'm part of Sniper Team Two, you know me as sergeant Scully. You know, I'm with Smith on the 2011 British-American joint Op?"

"Scully?" Soap asked, still precautious. When Juliet nods, Soap's features soften a little.

"I didn't know Scully was a girl."

I may or may not continue this. Depends since I'm just itching to post this a long time ago. But maybe I will, who knows.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing except the plot.