Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me. The title comes from the novel Savages by Don Winslow. The inspiration comes from the song "The Bagman's Gambit" by the Decemberists

"Dr. Shearing."

It's been a long time since someone called her that. Other than Aaron, who sometimes still refers to her as "Doc" in a teasing or endearing manner. She's long stopped thinking of herself as that person. A doctor. Or even Marta Shearing. That's not what the ID in her pocket says, anyway.

She doesn't glance over her shoulder when the door opens or the man steps into the room. She recognizes his voice but doesn't bother to acknowledge him. Eric Byer. She wonders if it's bothering him that she's still staring at the white wall in front of her.

"I didn't expect to see you again." Byer continues as he steps into the room, moving around her left side as he comes to sit down in the metal chair across from her. Her hands are cuffed and on the table in front of her. There are two well armed men standing silently behind her and she knows they could draw their guns and fire before she completely lifted her hands off the table. Her reflexes are better now but she'll never be that good.

For a moment, Marta and Byer just stare at each other. The stress of the past two years shows on his face now and in the graying hair around his temples. But he still looks like a smug bastard. Clearly, he's reveling in the fact that he has her here in this cage. She's not the one he wants but he'll take what he can get at this point.

"I would have thought you'd disappear off the grid forever." Byer says finally. "That's the MO right? New life, new start?" He shrugs and Marta still says nothing. "Kind of sloppy to show up and shoot a government agent, don't you think?"

Marta doesn't respond. He doesn't need to know what she thinks.

They leave the fishing trawler a week after they are spirited away from Manila. The ship docks and they leave while the fisherman and his sons are taking their catch ashore. Marta feels bad for leaving without a word; she's grown attached to the fisherman's younger son, a boy of eight who reminds her of her nephew. But this is how her new life works: no goodbyes, no warnings. Really, there should be not attachments either. She should stop thinking about her nephew, who is going to grow up now without his aunt Marta.

Marta is content to let Aaron lead the way; obviously, he knows better than she does. His face is cool, calculating, always frozen in the expression of a predator, an animal vying for survival. Except when he looks at her. She can see his eyes soften around the edges whenever she catches his attention and he turns to look at her. It's nice, reassuring. But frightening at the same time, because it means she is his weakness. She is a liability, a way for him to get hurt, caught or killed. Marta doesn't want to be that for anyone; there's too much pressure. But she's too selfish to slip away the way they left the trawler. She loves the feeling of his hand in hers too much; she loves the closeness of his body as they move through crowded streets with their heads down or when they pose as a newly married, happy American couple spending their honeymoon in nontraditional places. She loves feeling safe, for once.

She figures the payoff for selfishly staying is to follow him anywhere.

"Where is Aaron Cross?" Byer is over the pleasantries now. He's spent the last twenty minutes dancing around the issue but it's time to get down to business. Marta is glad for that, even though she's not planning on talking. Yet. "He's here somewhere, isn't he? Where is he?"

Marta looks at him. He shifts in his seat and drops her gaze after a few moments. Her eyes aren't friendly anymore, they are cold and mean. They only soften for one man. "What makes you think I know?"

Byer lets out of a mirthless laugh and shakes his head. "You honestly expect me to believe that you don't know where he is? That you haven't spent the last two years together? That you've survived all on your own like this?" He shakes his head. "I don't think so. I know you two are still together. Though I do think it was a little cowardly of him to send you to do his dirty work."

They've been in Vietnam for only three days when they see the news report detailing how Pamela Landy was shot and killed outside the courthouse one morning on her way to testify about Treadstone and the whole ugly mess. There were hundreds of people around: cops, reporters, tourists and onlookers but someone still put a bullet in her head. It scares Marta, it rips her out of that strange lull she'd been living in since they'd left Manila. For some reason, she'd thought they were safe, that Outcome and those pulling the strings would just give up. Now she wonders if there's someone waiting in the shadows to finish the job.

The nightmares start that night. Marta dreams about men coming into her sister's house and killing her nephew and the whole family. She dreams about drowning in inky black water, calling for Aaron until she slips beneath the waves. She wakes herself up and can still taste the salt on her tongue. When she falls asleep again, she's relieved to see her subconscious has shifted gears. She dreams she's at the market with Aaron and he's holding her hand while they browse the produce stalls and look at the other wares. She holds up something for him to see when all of the sudden he's dead, shot through the middle of his forehead like Landy and she's standing there with his blood on her face and clothes.

Marta wakes up screaming from that one. Aaron is beside her in seconds, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words against her cheeks. She's only able to sleep again with his body curled around hers from behind.

In the morning, they leave the city and end up on an island so remote that Marta is sure the only other life forms are the trees and the creatures that live within them. Aaron gives her a gun and starts teaching her how to use it. She assumes he thinks it will help with her nightmares but the weight of the metal in her hands only makes things worse.

"How about we make a deal?" Byer says and Marta rolls her eyes in his face. She can tell it makes him mad. But he's already mad because they've been sitting here twenty minutes and she's barely said more than ten words to him. He's probably taken a serious blow to his masculinity; clearly, he thought he was going to be able to storm in here and verbally beat her down. Reduce her to a cowering mess in her chair, have her in tears, begging for his leniency. She's not afraid of the big, bad wolf.

Byer slams his hand down on the table in front of her. "Do you know what you've done? You shot someone. A government agent. Someone very powerful." Yes, Marta knows all about it. Does he honestly think she'd be sloppy enough to just show up and start shooting random people? Please. She's not them. "You should be happy I'm even talking to you instead of letting them shoot you for treason."

"You're right, what was I thinking?" Marta deadpans, rolling her eyes again. "Please, I'll do anything." She simpers, teasing him.

Byer clinches his jaw and Marta mentally chides him for being so easily riled up. Clearly, these government programs don't train their suits and ties the way they train their agents.

"Where is Cross?" Byer growls. "We're going to find him anyway. If you tell us where he is, then we can bring him in peacefully. He won't be hurt."

Marta doesn't stop herself from laughing in his face.

Aaron trains her every day. They spar, gently at first and then rougher, more serious, as she starts to get better. Marta decides to take it as a compliment the day he accidentally bruises her jaw, because it means he's stopped going easy on her. She practices her shooting while he fishes and gathers food along the tide line. She hones her senses, listening to the sounds of the jungle around them. She never quite manages to catch Aaron by surprise but she's less easily startled now too.

The hut they live in can barely be considered that. It's located just past the start of the jungle and the ground is hard-packed dirt, covered with wide palm fronds and they both sleep on bedrolls barely thicker than the mat Marta used to use for yoga back in Maryland. Their mats lay side by side because distance is not something they do well with. Marta has been awoken many times in the middle of the night to the sensation of Aaron pulling her toward him in his sleep, his strong arms around her waist. She cannot sleep without the feeling of his breath tickling the back of her neck.

Marta doesn't bother to keep track of the days as they pass by. They wake up with the sun every morning and watch as the moon bathes their world in silver light every night. The sun tans their skin and her hair gets wild from the breeze. When they aren't training, they talk about anything and everything. Marta tells Aaron things she never thought to share with Peter or anyone else and Aaron tells her about the boy he was before he joined the army. They don't bother to censor themselves because there is no point. Marta wants him to know everything about her, she wants to give him as much as he's giving her.

"Is it love?" Byer questions, getting up from his seat and pacing in front of the table. "Is that what this is all about? Love?" Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "How noble of you, Dr. Shearing."

Marta watches him as he comes to stand beside her, exerting his dominance over her by standing while she has no choice but to sit. She can read it in his body language, his desperation to intimidate her in some way, to prove that he is in control.

"It's kind of sweet, in a way. I guess." Byer leans against the table so they're facing one another. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Though, I'm a little disappointed in you, Dr. Shearing. You of all people should know how we bred the emotions out of these people. What good is the capacity to love in a super solider?" He sounds casually contemplative, like they're simply having a conversation, a meeting of minds. "When it gets down to it, you're just a woman after all." He sneers at her.

Marta knows that she's made Byer mad. More than mad, perhaps furious. That's why he's changed tactics so abruptly and pathetically. It feels like a small victory, but she keeps her face expressionless. She thinks of Aaron and the things he's taught her.

"We spent years training these people. Training them beyond the science, beyond the work you did in your lab." Byer continues. "We beat all the emotion out of them." He watches her face for a reaction. Marta's jaw clinches slightly, thinking about Aaron in the program. A young man who'd never known the affection of a mother or the guidance of a father. He'd had such hopes for himself when he'd enlisted and look what they'd done to him. What Byer had done to him.

"We train them to use their resources." Byer continues. If he's noticed Marta's reaction, he doesn't let on. "That includes the people around them. You're just a resource to him, Dr. Shearing. He'll do and say whatever it takes to get what he needs. He's trained to make you believe whatever he wants."

Marta flicks her eyes away from Byer's to make him think that he's finally found a foothold. Byer smirks. Smug bastard.

"You might think it's love, Dr. Shearing, but it's just training." Byer presses. "So why ruin the rest of your life? Why not just tell us where he is. Use him to save yourself."

They stay in their hut for months. They live like savages, hunting and using the jungle to survive. Marta's body grows strong and confident. Aaron learns to smile the way that she learns to move up the curved palm trees or hide amongst the flora. Marta has never felt more wild or beautiful.

One night, Aaron takes her hand and looks into her eyes and she knows. This is the moment she's been waiting for. He lays her down on the palm fronds and slowly undresses her, his eyes never leaving hers. She slips her fingers through his hair and traces the scars on his body when he pulls off his clothes. They make love to the sounds of the ocean and the jungle around them and Marta thinks selfishly that it's all been worth it for this moment.

From that moment on, things are different between them. Marta feels like her body functions in connection with Aaron's, like she's been waiting her entire life for him to arrive. She knows he feels the same, she can see it in his eyes when he looks at her, she can feel it in his touch, in the soft kisses he presses against her face in the mornings and throughout the days. She wants to be with him always, like he is her breath and the movement of her body. It's dangerous to love someone so much, she knows, but she doesn't care. If something has to destroy her, she is fine with it being this.

Marta puts more strength and effort into her training exercises. She wants to be able to save him the way that he can save her. She finally understands the savage desire to protect the things that matter. She would kill for him or die trying.

One night he tells her in a choked voice how he loves her. His words shake and he doesn't look in her eyes as he says those words, his gaze on her hands that rest in his. She knows how difficult this expression of emotion is for him, for a man who has never loved or been loved before. That somehow makes it all the more special and real. And she loves him too, more than she's ever wanted to love anyone in her life. Complete and absolute love is dangerous. But what isn't in their world?

"It's only a matter of time until we find him." Byer says when he realizes that his previous tactic is not going to elicit a response. "It was really only a matter of time before we found both you. You just made it easy on us today."

Marta watches him as he crosses and uncrosses his arms. He's still leaning against the table in front of her.

"We've been tracking you ever since Vosen's death in March." Byer pauses. "We know that was Cross." He shakes his head, like he pities them or something. "You should have stayed off the grid, enjoyed the last bit of time you had together."

Marta doesn't point out all the blatant lies in his statements. He's posturing and she's going to give him that, it's the least she can do. She doesn't point out that they only knew that it was Aaron behind Noah Vosen's death because of dumb luck. Chance. She doesn't point out that the only reason she's sitting in this room now is because that was always the plan.

Marta doesn't want to leave their paradise but they can't stay there forever. She takes heart in the fact that Aaron has faith in her skills and abilities and that is the reason they're leaving at all. He sees her as an asset, even though she still feels like a liability.

They go to Hong Kong and find a no-questions-asked room in a hotel as Lauryn and James Kirk, who are visiting on their honeymoon. They spend their first night keeping up appearances. Marta falls asleep sweaty and content with Aaron draped across her body.

Aaron plots their next move while Marta goes out to pick up a few supplies. She passes an Internet café and for the first time is unable to resist the urge to connect to her old life. It's a few months shy of a year since she's been on the run and the temptation is too great. She isn't stupid enough to access Facebook by logging into her own account; she creates another false identity to connect to the social media website. It's all too easy.

When she pulls up her sister's page, her heart stops. There are no new posts about daily life in Ontario; no new pictures of her nephew, who's seventh birthday was only a few weeks ago. No status updates or recent activity. Nothing but condolences on a dead woman's profile, laments about a tragedy that took the lives of Felicia Crew and her husband and son.

Marta feels like a curious bystander as she searches for information about the deaths of the Crew family. It doesn't seem connected to her at all, it doesn't seem to touch her. She feels detached as she reads about how, seven months ago, there was a break-in at the Crews' home in the middle of the night and the entire family was shot in their beds. Marta knows the date is two weeks after she and Aaron went off the grid in Manila.

Marta leaves the café and goes back to their hotel, the rest of her errands unimportant and forgotten. When she sees Aaron and his welcoming smile, she flies at him, unable to fight down the rage she feels. The rage isn't for him, but there's no other target.

"You promised they would be safe!" She screams as she lands weak punches against his chest. "You promised!" He holds her while she wails and fights him. He holds her when the fight leaves her and she sinks to the ground, lost in grief. He strokes her hair as she screams toward the ceiling, mourning the loss her sister and nephew. Her family. And, when she has no more energy, he carries her to bed and wipes her tears away and holds her against his chest while she sleeps. His heart breaks, not for her dead family members but for her and his inability to live up to his promise to never let anything hurt her again. How foolish he was to think he could promise that.

Marta tells him the story in the morning, when she feels as though she can handle thinking about it. Aaron is not surprised to hear the news, even though he thought her family would be safe if Marta made no contact with them. But it's a classic maneuver: leave no safe place to run to.

It is in that moment that they decide staying off grid is not enough. There are those with too much blood on their hands and they must be punished.

"You can't run forever." Byer is saying, like he's trying to make himself feel better about the fact that he and his team didn't actually find Marta, she came to them. "We're bigger than you think. We have more resources."

Byer moves away from her, to go sit across the table once more. Marta looks down at her hands, metaphorically stained with the blood of the man she killed a half hour before. She doesn't regret pulling the trigger.

"You know, treason is still punishable by death in this country." Byer continues. "Whether you give us Cross's location or not, you're going to die." Now he's just trying to scare her. "Especially after killing a federal agent."

Marta just shakes her head. "I'm not afraid of you." She tells him frankly.

Byer narrows his eyes. That has really made him mad. "You should be."

They go back to the United States. Marta's fear at being back in the country is overshadowed by her anger. She knows that's dangerous.

They move to a small town south of where the Outcome lab was. It's nothing but a shell now, abandoned like everything else. They plan, make lists, identify their targets. Noah Vosen. Ezra Kramer. Eric Byer. These are the first men who will pay for the evils that have been done. They will be a message to the others.

Marta knows Vosen and Kramer and Byer's schedules so intimately she feels like their jealous girlfriend. She and Aaron spend hours in silence, communicating with surveillance photo, building schematics and escape routes.

Noah Vosen seems to be the most careless. He will be the first. He enjoys golfing and other outdoor activities, whereas Kramer and Byer seem to spend the majority of their time inside one of the CIA's office buildings. Marta and Aaron both know they'd be made the second they stepped on the front steps. So they decide to go for Vosen first. They spend hours memorizing every thing about him, right down to his golf swing and where he prefers to buy his wine.

At night, Aaron and Marta fold into each other and it's like a breath of fresh air. It's the only time Marta can stop thinking about her sister and her nephew and how the idea of killing other human beings has consumed her mind. She traces Aaron's jaw-line with her fingers. "You're the only thing that means anything to me."

Even now, in spite of their daily activities, that's the truth.

"You're wasting your time." Marta says and her words seem to take Byer by surprise. He'd given up on expecting her to speak.

Byer raises an eyebrow. "Why? Because you'll never give him up?" He teases her.

Marta smiles sadly. "You're chasing a ghost."

Aaron is the one who kills Vosen. Despite her training, in spite of everything they've been through, he still cannot bare the idea of her being in harms way and he refuses to let her take a risk when he can do it instead. Vosen likes to jog at five in the morning. Marta likes to be asleep at five in the morning. Seems pretty uncomplicated to Aaron. He manages to slip away without waking her and hunts Vosen.

He doesn't go running that morning. It's raining and Aaron can see his breath pluming in front of his face as he sits outside Vosen's home, waiting for the man to emerge. He knows he should give up now, since the plan clearly must change but he feels stubborn and committed to the idea of returning home to Marta and telling her one of them is dead.

Aaron follows Vosen on his way to work. Vosen never has any idea he's there at all. When Vosen gets within a few feet of the security check point in front of the CIA building, Aaron shoots him right between the eyes, hoping to call up visions of Pamela Landy. It's chaos as the man drops dead. Aaron manages to slip away in bedlam but he doesn't make it clear. One of the guards from the check point pursues him and Aaron dedicates his energy to shaking the man instead of trying to kill him. It's not his first mistake but the one he regrets the most.

When it's finally safe, Aaron returns to Marta. She is a live wire, taunt with worry. That doesn't improve when she sees the look on Aaron's face. Now instead of being able to tell her that Vosen is dead, Aaron has to tell her he's been made.

They gather up their plans and schematics and weapons and flee the building. They aren't alone. Aaron cruses himself for returning to Marta so soon. These men might not be as highly trained as he is but they still have guns and those guns still have bullets in them.

Marta won't let go of Aaron's hand as they race through the woods, trying to evade the men who have instructs to shoot to kill. Aaron wants to separate but she refuses. If this is how it all ends, she doesn't want to die alone.

The men following them shoot without regard for aiming, hoping that dumb luck will aid them in their quest to take these two down. Marta knows that Aaron is hit by the way that his hand tightens around hers ever so slightly and when she looks at him his jaw is clinched. But they don't stop.

Somehow they manage to lose the men pursuing them and take refuge in the thick of the forest. Marta pulls aside Aaron's jacket and lifts his shirt. The bullet caught him in the back, a lucky shot staining his clothes and her hands crimson.

Marta pulls off her cardigan and presses it against his back. She's trying to remain calm but her fear is overwhelming.

Aaron takes her hand and looks into her eyes. This time when he tells her he loves her, his voice doesn't shake.

Byer doesn't bother to hide the look of surprise that crosses his face. "What do you mean?"

Before Marta can answer, the sound of gunshots echo from down the hallway. Three heads turn in the direction of the door. Marta just stares at the wall.

They can hear the sound of desperate shouting. More gunfire. An alarm is sounding somewhere. The place is under siege.

The guards standing against the wall draw their firearms. Byer gets to his feet and Marta can see a hint of fear mixed in with his confusion. Before he can direct the men to do something useful, the door bangs open and a man in a police uniform steps in. Even though his head is lowered, Marta knows he is one of the men who grabbed her after she shot Kramer.

A look of extreme irritation crosses Byer's face. "You don't have authorization to be in here." He snaps to the man. Clearly he has no patience for local law enforcement. "Who let you in here?"

The officer lifts his head and Marta watches as Byer's face goes white as a sheet. Aaron is in the room with his gun drawn before the other guards can even look his way. He shoots them both before they can aim their weapons in his direction. Aaron calmly shuts the door and looks at Byer.

Somehow, Aaron survives his latest bullet wound. Marta was certain she had lost him, she could feel the rage and grief and sense of loss welling inside her chest. But he pulled through. She ventures into town to retrieve the bare minimum of things they'll need to survive until they could leave the woods and when she returns, he has some of the color back in his face and she thinks maybe, just maybe, it is all going to turn out okay. The smile he gives her only makes her feel more certain of that fact.

"You have more lives than a cat." She teases as she gives him pain medicine and cleans the wound in order to bandage it.

Aaron just smiles. "I have something to live for." He tells her.

Marta enjoys playing nursemaid to Aaron as he heals. They're in a motel on the outskirts and town and the only time the proprietor pays them any sort of attention is when he tries to stare down Marta's shirt or gape at her legs.

They consider giving up their plan to go after Kramer and Byer. Clearly, the odds are not in their favor. But Aaron refuses to let one little (not that Marta would call it that) bullet hole throw a wrench in their whole operation.

But they do lie low for the next several months. Aaron regains his strength quickly and Marta fine tunes their plans. This time, she won't allow herself to be left out. "Look what happened without me there to watch after you." She teases. But Aaron doesn't argue.

Byer takes a step back. "How…how did you get in here?" It's like he's seen a ghost. And maybe that's exactly what Cross is. How else could he have gotten past the countless agents who know his face as well as their own?

Aaron ejects the clip in the gun he's been using and inserts a fresh one. "I walked in the front door."

Aaron has a heavy feeling in his chest as he hands the gun to Marta. He trusts her abilities but that doesn't mean that he likes this plan. At all. "Shoot Kramer and then drop your gun." He instructs her for what feels like the hundredth time. "Put up your hands."

Marta nods, looking at the gun. "I will." She's still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to be using this tool to shoot a man. Not an innocent man but a man nonetheless. She will become a killer.

"You don't have to do this." Aaron says gently, as though sensing her thoughts. "We can find another way."

Marta looks up at him. Aaron is nearly unrecognizable in his sharply pressed and polished police officer's uniform. He's wearing a PD issued hat to hide his features. But she still sees the man she loves.

"There's no other way to get to Byer." Marta argues. "It's too risky." And she won't let Aaron take those risks anymore. It's her turn now.

Aaron sighs. "It's risky for you. Anything could go wrong." He's been having visions of Marta shot dead on the front steps of the CIA building for days.

She gives him a slight smile. "I trust you." And she does.

No one pays Marta any attention as she walks toward the CIA building. She blends in with the rest of the pedestrians; they would never suspect the gun tucked in the waistband on her jeans. When she gets to the building, Marta can see Aaron standing by the doors. He looks like the other police officers tasked with guarding the entrance, his eyes fixed straight ahead. No one notices that he doesn't belong either.

Marta waits nearly fifteen minutes before she notices Kramer approaching. She lets him pass by her and then calls his name, loudly and with confidence. The man turns to face her, curious and confused. She pulls the gun and levels it at him. She remembers the sound of her sister's laughter and the feeling of her embraces. She remembers playing T-ball with her nephew and hears him say "I love you Aunt Marta." She doesn't hesitate to squeeze the trigger.

Kramer falls and there's chaos. Marta braces herself for the sound of a gun and for the bullet aimed in her direction. But in the insanity it seems reaction times are delayed. Except for Aaron's. He's by her side in an instant, pulling out his handcuffs and taking her down, pressing her against the concrete like she's a perfect stranger. Marta feels safer now, knowing that she's less likely to be shot while being arrested by an officer of the law.

Aaron is reading her her rights as he drags her toward the entrance. The officer who had been standing next to him comes to stand on her other side, intent on getting some of the glory for taking in a dangerous criminal.

Eric Byer personally comes out to escort Marta to the holding cell when he learns that she's the one who shot Kramer. "We'll take it from here." He says dismissively, nodding toward Aaron as he grabs Marta roughly.

"Yes, sir." Byer doesn't stop to wonder why the officer's voice sounds almost familiar.

The same hands that killed countless people in the past, that killed countless people today to get to Marta and that have just killed Eric Byer are the same hands that gently free Marta from her handcuffs and rub at her wrists. They are the same hands that lead her to safety and into the anonymity of the streets and the city beyond the building. They make a clean getaway this time.

Marta holds his hand tightly in her own. Hers are the same hands that held a gun and killed a man. The same hands that will likely kill again in the future. The same hands that will hold Aaron tonight, that will pull him close and keep him there.

He will love her in spite of the blood on her hands, just as she loves him despite the blood on his.

They are a perfect pair. They are savages.

Fin.