Title: Sentry
Author: philote_auctor
Rating: PG
Characters: Nathaniel Taylor, Mark Reynolds, Jim Shannon, Skye (mentions of Mark/Maddy)
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Terra Nova do not belong to me. I make no money from this story. Please don't sue.
Summary: "This is why he's here at all; why he's made every decision along the way." Nathaniel Taylor keeps watch over his people and tries to guide them, even when he could use a little guidance himself.
Author's Notes: Written for LeBibish in Yuletide 2012. This is set in the finale near the end, after the action as they sit in camp that night before heading back to the colony.
oOo
Every breath hurts. It's dulled some with the pain meds the Doc gave him, but he'd refused to take enough to truly deaden it. He needs to be alert. More than that, he needs his people to see that he's alive and still fighting; that Nathaniel Taylor is still in command of Terra Nova.
Honestly though, he's not certain he could stand on his own for more than a few minutes, let alone take a steady shot if a threat presented itself. He remains seated, using his chosen tree for support, watching over everyone. He's more grateful than ever for his soldiers, his well-trained, loyally brave squad of men and women. Each one is fully capable, he knows. He relies on them every day. Those on duty can protect the camp. But it is hard to abide with the knowledge that he couldn't do much to protect them right now.
That impotent, helpless feeling ignites a pain that has nothing to do with his wound. He thinks of Wash standing defiantly and falling like a ragdoll, and he has to clamp down on the thoughts and fight back nausea.
Thankfully, he is distracted by the approach of one of those soldiers. Despite the long days of endless tension, Mark Reynolds still looks alert and ready. Weary, perhaps, but able. "Commander," the young soldier greets.
"Reynolds," Nathaniel returns in kind.
"Perimeter's secure, sir. Everything's quiet."
"Good. Your shift almost up?"
"Twenty-one minutes ago, technically." Reynolds shrugs.
"Then you are off duty for the moment." He cocks his head meaningfully towards the nearby fire, to the Shannon family gathered around it. "Go."
"Yes, sir." Still Reynolds hesitates, eying Jim Shannon.
Nathaniel fights to keep his lips from quirking. "Surely that isn't fear I see, soldier."
"Of course not. It's…healthy wariness."
Now Nathaniel can't hold back a chuckle. "Listen son, Jim Shannon is a smart man. He'll eventually realize that you're the best thing that could happen to his daughter."
Reynolds looks startled. "I…thank you, sir."
Nathaniel nods. It's true enough, and he believes in giving compliments where they're due. He also believes in realistic expectations. "Just understand that he may never admit that aloud."
"Then how will I know when he's accepted me?"
"Instinct. That's good; you've got strong instincts."
Reynolds bites his lip, eyes focused on Maddy Shannon. "I may have already mentioned to him that I'd like to marry her someday."
Nathaniel's eyebrows go up. "Okay," he revises, "in most areas you've got strong instincts. Still, I think you'll know. Did you court her properly?"
"I tried to."
"Good. Then just don't get caught making out in the bushes in the meantime, and everything will work out fine."
Reynolds winces and clears his throat, guilt written clearly across his face.
Nathaniel rolls his eyes, and then groans when he notices Shannon has stood from his log by the fire and is headed their way. "Just go. Go be a gentleman," he adds pointedly.
Reynolds nods quickly, straightening. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir. Evening, Mr. Shannon," he says respectfully as he passes the older man.
"Reynolds," Shannon returns a bit suspiciously, turning to watch as the soldier heads towards his daughter. Reynolds glances back at him and actually raises his hand in a nervous little wave.
Nathaniel can't help but laugh aloud again as he shakes his head. "You know, that boy is one of the steadiest and most courageous men I've ever had the pleasure to serve with. But when you get involved, he goes soft and wobbly."
Shannon turns to him and shrugs. "It's good for him. And that's just with my father role; he's never wobbly in the context of duty."
"I know." Nathaniel tries to hide a smile again at Shannon's automatic defense of the young man. "So, what can I do for our resident time-traveling superhero?"
Shannon grimaces. "Careful there. I hear we're heading home; don't want my head to get too big to fit through the front gates."
"Somehow I don't think we're in danger of that." He considers the man before him. Jim Shannon is one of the good ones—a remarkable one, really. He thinks how lucky he is that the man is on his side. "How's the family?"
"Remarkably well, all things considered. We're alive and we're together; I couldn't ask for more." He glances over at them and Nathaniel follows his gaze. "Though I must admit, home sounds good."
"That it does, Shannon. That it does."
Jim looks back at him, studying him a bit more closely. "How are you holding up?"
"Remarkably well," he grins and echoes ruefully, "all things considered."
The close scrutiny continues for a long moment, and Nathaniel allows it. Finally Shannon nods. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Sure," he says easily. He waits until Jim turns away before adding, "Oh, Shannon? There is one thing."
"Name it."
He nods towards Jim's family. "Go hug your boy."
Shannon's expression softens. There's no pity there, but there is a sorrowful sort of understanding. "That I can do."
He watches as the other man crosses back to his family, watches as he stoops to speak briefly to his girls and then places a lingering kiss on his wife's cheek before making his way to Josh. He touches the boy briefly on the shoulder and Josh stands to face him. They speak quietly for a long moment before Josh grins and Jim returns it, tugging him into his arms. Josh goes willingly, wrapping his arms around his father and tucking his head against his neck. Jim looks up and meets Nathaniel's gaze over his son's shoulder, nodding once in thanks.
Nathaniel feels his eyes burn.
He's so focused on the Shannons that he doesn't even notice Skye slip away from the fire until she's suddenly standing five feet from him, fidgeting. Skye's never been much of a fidgeter. She offers him a small smile. "Hi."
"Hi yourself," he returns.
She takes a hesitant step closer, then stops again. "You're hurting, aren't you?"
He takes a deep breath, considering her, but doesn't answer right away.
She tilts her head. "It's not obvious. But I can tell."
"So can I," he says softly.
They both know he's not referring to physical pain. She looks away.
"You've never shot anyone before."
"I suppose slashers don't count. No; I've never shot a person before. But Lucas…" she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I know he's your son and you love him, but I'd do it again."
"Yes, he's my son," he says faintly. He'd known in his heart even before all of this that Lucas was lost, but it was a hard thing for a father to admit. It was harder still to accept that he'd raised a boy so emotionally unstable and filled with hate that the word psychopath seems to fit. His mind is filled with 'what-ifs.' What if he'd been a better father, more attuned to Lucas's needs? What if neither of them had ever come to Terra Nova? What if, all those years ago, he'd chosen his wife over his son? It breaks his heart to even think it.
He's been quiet for too long. Skye's studying the ground, fidgeting again. Maybe it's too late for Lucas, but not for her. "Skye," he says gently. "I'm proud of you."
She freezes, her eyes darting up to make eye contact in surprise. He lets her search his gaze. Then he watches as her eyes fill. But she sucks in a breath and doesn't let them fall. "Thank you," she whispers.
"No, thank you."
She manages a smile and a tear makes it past her defenses to snake down her cheek. She swipes at it impatiently and shakes her head. "You're not going to distract me."
"I'm not?"
"No. You're in pain. Come to the fire, at least. Sit. Rest."
He starts to decline automatically, but something in her face makes him hesitate. He looks around again. The camp is secure. Perhaps right now he's needed over there more than he is here.
She helps support him. Good thing; he needs the help. This isn't exactly a flesh wound his son gave him, even if it is barely a scratch compared to the emotional stab to the heart. Josh Shannon stands to help Skye get him settled, and then the Doc is there with her scanner and gentle hands and more pain medication. He hesitates, but Skye is hovering over her shoulder, and he finally acquiesces.
Someone tucks a blanket around him. And there by the fire his mind tries to wander, to wonder yet again if he's done the right thing in cutting them off. He shuts down the thought far more easily now as he watches these people.
Reynolds is sitting on the ground beside Maddy. Little Zoe Shannon has crawled into his lap, head leaned against his chest trustingly as she knuckles her eyes, fighting sleep. It's pretty clear that both Shannon girls are enamored with the soldier. A few feet from them Jim has an arm around Elisabeth as he glances at his daughters and then exchanges a look with his wife. She smiles knowingly and he breaks into a grin, shaking his head ruefully. Skye has wedged herself close to Nathaniel's side though her attention is on Josh now, the two of them talking quietly.
Nathaniel looks back across the fire and makes eye contact with Zoe, who grins at him sleepily and gives him a little wave. He can't find the energy to lift his hand, but he smiles back at her and fights his emotions as he remembers her sweet innocence as she tried to comfort him.
He loves these people, his people. And there are so many more back at the colony, waiting for him to come back and tell them everything's going to be fine; to lead them. This is why he had to make the call to cut them off from 2149. This is why he's here at all; why he's made every decision along the way. These people deserve a chance; these kids deserve a future.
His last thought as he drifts into a light sleep is that he'll continue to fight for them, whatever it takes.
oOo