Alice is fairly certain she's forgotten what the outside of camp looks like. As she walks past the field and turns onto the path towards the lake, she's surprised at how vivid everything is in the sunshine. She feels a bit surreal - her days consist of beeping, typing, and writing, and the sudden quietness around her is almost unnerving.
She's careful to follow the direct path laid out by Duncan Sinclair's men - 'there are large amounts of live explosives out there, ladies, and they're not going to be polite, even to you' - and almost laughs when she thinks back to her first month, when she had been afraid to walk down here. It feels like a lifetime ago.
The messy gravel path gives way to stones. Alice finds a giddy sort of feeling in the noise her shoes make against the rocks as she approaches Lake Ontario, her green army jacket slung over her arm. She finally reaches the water, and watches as it rushes gently over the rocks as the tide rolls in and out, bending down and letting it glide past her fingers. She's careful not to let the water get into her black Mary Janes, knowing full well that she won't be able to change since this is the only break she's going to get today - and she's lucky she's gotten one at all. They are at war, after all.
Alice sighs, closing her eyes and embracing the quiet murmuring sound of the water gently running across the rocks. She's not sure when the last time was that she managed to fit in some silence - it feels as though her world is on a constant running wheel. As she stands there, she's overcome with memories, and lifts her jacket up to hug it to her chest.
The lake has always been a source of stillness in Alice's otherwise crazy life. Ever since she can remember, she'd been going down to the little harbour just outside of Toronto to bask in its silence. When she was much younger, her parents had brought her down for lazy summer days by the water; when she'd turned 16, she'd gotten her license and had borrowed the car to come down on her own at least once a month. When she'd started university a few years ago, visits had been far and few between, but amidst the essays and assignments, she'd managed to make it a couple of times.
And, even now - when things are so, so very different - for Alice, the lake is still an unquestionable source of peace in the rare moments she gets to visit it.
The spot she visits now is an entirely different part of the lake than the one from her childhood - it's about an hour away from her old quiet spot just outside of downtown Toronto. But it comforts her to know that it's the same water, the same waves, the same sounds. She wishes she could take comfort, too, in knowing that she was the same girl beside the lake that she's always been - but she knows that that couldn't be further from the truth.
A sudden round of muffled gunfire from the field behind her has her startled, and she whips around towards the noise. Just like that, her sense of calmness and security is gone, and her heart is threatening to beat out of her chest as she comes back to reality. She takes deep breaths to calm herself down, shutting her eyes firmly as she counts to ten. She feels like a small child as she does so, but it works, and when her eyes reopen, her heart rate is on its way back to steady.
She gathers herself up with one last deep inhale and exhale before she turns to head back up the path. Just before she reaches the gravel, her eyes fall on a smooth, grey rock in the sea of stones, that appears to be perfectly oval. She picks it up and clutches it in her fist as she slips her jacket back on, before putting it in her pocket.
She's careful as she makes her way up the path, doing up the buttons of her jacket as she walks. She hears the occasional gunshot from the practice field, but since she's prepared for them now, the sounds don't frighten her.
She passes through the field, passing some patrol guards, and reaches the guarded entrance to the compound. She flashes her ID badge again, even though she's worked at the camp for more than half a year. The security around a place like this has to be tight, she understands. She smiles and nods at the guard who lets her through, and she lifts a hand to smooth over her hair as she reaches the main building.
She checks her watch quickly as she opens the door, cursing under her breath at the realization that she's 5 minutes over her time. Her heels click loudly on the floor as she walks quickly down the hall. Her gaze falls through the glass windows and onto the all-too-familiar radio room, where it feels as though she's spent her entire life. She winces as she sees Duncan Sinclair, director of the Camp, standing with the ladies at attention, about to give them information.
She makes eye contact with him through the glass, and he pauses in his speech, giving her a pointed eyebrow raise. She curses under her breath again, and heads in his direction.
She's known Duncan for as long as she can remember. Her grandfather and Duncan's father had served side by side in WWI, and remained friends long after. Duncan and her dad had practically been raised together, and when they'd had kids of their own, the friendships had continued.
Over the years, William and George, Duncan's sons, had become some of Alice's closest friends. When the two boys had signed up for service at the outbreak of war, she'd been devastated. She'd been adamant that she would do her part, too - she'd drop her university degree and leave to be a nurse in England or on the front.
Her parents, though, had convinced her to finish the last year of her degree, and she'd obliged, albeit begrudgingly - how was her sitting at a desk for hours going to help anyone? Still, she'd somehow managed to devote herself to her schoolwork, and had graduated with a stunning set of marks; not to mention, she'd been one of a few women at the university, and she couldn't have been prouder.
She remembers well the day that Duncan had decided to extend an offer to her to join Camp X. He had come for a visit just after she had graduated, while her mind was set on leaving for Europe within the month. He'd pulled her aside under the premise of offering his congratulations, and instead had offered her a job.
You want to help with the war effort? He'd asked. She'd nodded, warily, and he'd continued: You don't have to go all the way to Europe.
She'd opened her mouth to protest, but he'd held up his hand and she grew silent again. She'd had no idea what he was talking about, but she remembers her heart racing with anticipation as he'd explained what little he could.
I can't tell you what it is, Alice, but you're going to have to trust me. I know you'd be perfect for this job. I've known you my whole life - you're brilliant, you're dedicated and you're tough. We need girls like you.
She wasn't sure what had prompted her to agree. Perhaps it was the excitement of secrecy - absolutely no one can know about what we do, Alice - or the praising of her abilities. Whatever it had been, she'd accepted. That was six months ago - though she felt it had actually been six years instead.
The swinging doors seem to make even more noise than usual as she enters the room. The other girls turn to look at her, and she tries her best to look nonchalant.
"Nice to have you back, Mrs. Campbell," Sinclair greets her. His tone is professional with a slight sarcastic edge - it's a bit scolding, even - but as she meets his eyes, he gives her a nod and she knows he's not truly upset. She mouths a thank you, and she receives the faintest of smiles before his stone face returns.
"As I was saying, ladies... We had a slow morning, but we expect to have a busy afternoon, and we expect contact to last well into the evening. Sit tight."
He dismisses them, and Alice slides into the chair behind her desk. Almost as soon as she picks up her headphones, the beeping starts, and she gets to work.
xxxxxx
hello, FF! This is my first ever fic for this site, and my first X Company fic. I started writing this awhile ago, before the awful s2 finale, but now it's become a way to cope... I'm still not fine.
Please comment and review, so I know someone, anyone, is reading!
Xx, Leslie