More Tallowe for my Del! Another young!Talbot fic that I wrote from an idea that she had in which Marlowe becomes injured and Talbot has to care for her. I usually write them the other way around so this was interesting, but fun! I really enjoy thinking about their backstories, because I felt their development left a lot to be desired. You think this is getting out of hand? Well guess what? There's more coming... OOPS. But I promise I haven't forgotten about my ChloexCutter fic!


By Your Side

Talbot had never been one to feel squeamish over the sight of blood... but with his palms pressed to Marlowe's waist, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sensation of nausea washing over him as the warm stickiness gushed through his fingertips.

He wasn't sure how it had happened. Surveying the area just moments earlier, everything had seemed perfectly safe. Talbot had it confirmed by several of their most prestigious agents that the Venezuelan jungle was quite clear of any opposing forces, and that it was permitted for him to escort Marlowe to their dig site. It had taken months of meticulous planning to secure the area. Her patience on the project was most admirable, and Marlowe was eager to get things underway. Meanwhile, Talbot was anxious to impress her in any way he was able. It was his first mission out in the field, after all, and he wanted to prove his worth.

They stepped through a clearing in the foliage when Talbot's walkie-talkie crackled, much more loudly than he had anticipated. He moved to bring it to his ear, stepping a few feet ahead of Marlowe, who was following him with her pistol drawn. His brow furrowed when the static continued and nobody responded from the other end. He'd barely had time to register the fact that the noise might give away their location when a shot rang out and Marlowe released a pained gasp from beside him. He spun to see her dropping to her knees.

"Marlowe!"

His features registered confusion as he knelt down beside her. Marlowe was doubled over in pain as she gripped at her waist, and he placed a concerned hand upon her shoulder. Realization didn't sink in until he saw that her pristine white blouse was slowly staining red.

Oh, God.

In that moment, as he watched blood drip through her hands and mingle with the dirt upon the jungle floor, Talbot froze. Instead of aiming his gun, instead of protecting Marlowe like he should have been, he simply ceased to function . Months of training, research, planning, and anticipation, and he'd royally screwed up. His mind simply couldn't fathom how it had happened. The area was supposed to be cleared, how could he have not heard the ambush? What was he supposed to do? The cold panic only swelled in his chest, making his whole body feel chilled despite the sweltering tropical climate.

As if she'd sensed his dread, Marlowe tugged on his sleeve with a grim expression, effectively snapping him out of his trance. Her hand left a trace of blood upon his shirt, making him shudder further.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, her lips forming a thin line. "Kill them!"

A finger was pointed off to their right, and Talbot's eyes followed her line of sight. He reached for the gun at his hip, turning just in time to see an armed mercenary coming straight towards them. The 9mm felt impossibly heavy in his hands, and his index finger was slippery and slick against the cool metal. With a steadying breath, he pulled the trigger and despite his clumsiness, still managed to down the man with a bullet straight into his chest. Two more men came pummeling through the trees shortly after, and Talbot took them out with minimal ammunition wasted.

Talbot barely had time to survey the area for more of them when he felt a cruel force smash into him, sending him reeling to the ground and his gun flying from his grasp. Someone had grabbed him around the waist, pinning his body and taking him down with them. His mind was frantic as his fingers dug into the dirt, his face rubbing painfully against the dusty ground. Gritting his teeth, Talbot saw his gun a few feet away from him, just barely out of reach. With an arm outstretched, he had nearly touched the hilt when the weight on top of him shifted, and he groaned in frustration as he felt his adversary grab a fistful of his hair. The upper half of his body was suddenly tugged upwards and the fist that connected with Talbot's cheekbone caught him by surprise. The pain took a good few seconds to register as all thoughts of fighting back were suddenly wiped from his brain and a numb sensation spread throughout his limbs.

God, that hurt.

Now flipped onto his back, Talbot's blinked a few times and his blurred vision focused upon the jungle canopy... shortly followed by the gruff face of the mercenary staring down at him. The much larger man crushed a boot to his chest, knocking the air from Talbot's lungs as he gasped. He struggled, but it was to no avail. His body felt limp and lifeless, his face felt like a brick had been smashed against it and he was weaponless. If this was going to be the end, it was surely an unpleasant one...

Talbot suddenly found himself staring straight into the barrel of a gun, as the light shining through the trees caused the silver to glisten in a most blinding fashion. He closed his eyes, anticipating the worst when two shots rang out. His entire body jolted as blood spattered against his face, followed by the distinctive thud of dead weight. Talbot opened his eyes to find himself remarkably unharmed, with the mercenary collapsed beside him... a bullet hole straight through their head.

Eyes darting to Marlowe, he saw that she was balanced upon her knees with one palm to her wound and the other holding a smoking gun. He nodded his thanks, reclaiming his weapon as he ran to her side, wiping his sleeve against his face in the process.

Marlowe's jaw was clenched against the pain, but she uttered not a sound... merely clutched at her side as Talbot removed his jacket and pressed it over her in hopes of stanching the blood flow.

"I don't understand... I had the area cleared, this shouldn't have happened..." he muttered, as Marlowe allowed herself to lean into his arms. It was his way of apologizing, but he couldn't seem to find the words to properly express his guilt over his mistake. He'd frozen, forgotten all of his training in a matter of minutes and had nearly gotten them both killed.

She deserved so much better.

His stomach flipped as the blood only continued to gush. While they once felt capable, his hands now felt clumsy and useless as they began to shake.

"Marlowe... what do I do? What do I-?"

A palm was suddenly placed over his, halting his frantic movements.

"Talbot."

His gaze lifted from the wound, blue eyes searching hers. There was pain swimming in their depths, but also a calmness that he couldn't quite understand. She squeezed his hand, her voice firm.

"Focus. I need you to focus."

"Alright," he nodded, willing himself to breathe again. He swallowed hard, fighting the nauseous feeling gnawing at his stomach. "We have to get you out of here. Can you stand?"

Marlowe nodded her response as Talbot stood and lifted her from beneath the arms. She took two steps before she stumbled, her palms splaying against Talbot's chest as he caught her .

"Shit!" she cursed, not meeting his gaze. Her palms balled into fists, clutching the material of Talbot's dress shirt.

"This is no good. Come on, I've got you."

Talbot lifted her effortlessly into his arms, as one of her hands came to rest upon the back of his neck. Though her expression was somber, Marlowe uttered no complaints as they carried on through the thick jungle foliage. Talbot moved as briskly as he could without jostling her around too much. The dig site and their camp wasn't far. They'd have a whole slew of equipment and medical supplies there... it was just a matter of getting to it without being ambushed again.

Sweat dripped down his brow as he kept up the pace, dodging through trees and stepping over branches and vines. Marlowe was becoming quite pallid as her head rested against Talbot's shoulder, lolling back and forth as they moved. She looked as if she was fighting to stay alert. It was scaring him much more than he'd like to admit as the color continued to drain from her face. He couldn't remember ever seeing her look so bad.

When at last they arrived at the camp site, Talbot was alarmed to see that none of their agents were in sight. It was entirely deserted... nobody guarding the area as they should have been. An involuntary shiver shot down his spine at the eerie sight. Regardless, Talbot made his way over to Marlowe's safari tent, which was set up especially for her. It was more than just an average tent... furnished with tables, sitting chairs, shelves, and even a bed. It was the equivalent of a portable hotel room with all the bells and whistles.

As he drew aside the tent flap with Marlowe still in his arms, he kept his eyes peeled for any intruders. If anyone had invaded their camp, they seemed to have already fled. In the back of his mind, he prayed it wasn't a set up.

Carrying her over to the bed, he laid Marlowe down as gingerly as he could, her eyes drowsily meeting his. She seemed disoriented, no doubt from blood loss.

"Were we followed?" she asked.

"It doesn't appear so."

Marlowe shifted slightly, agitating her wound as she released a groan.

"Try not to move," he soothed. "I'll be right back."

Talbot left her side for only a minute as he sprinted over to their medical tent, where he gathered the necessary supplies and carried as much as he possibly could in his arms. Normally there would be doctors on hand, but with Marlowe's current condition combined with the suddenly barren campsite, there was no knowing when they'd receive further help.

Talbot rolled up his sleeves when he returned to her, sitting at the edge of the bed as he scattered the items upon the mattress. She seemed reluctant to have him look over her.

"Marlowe... I need to have a look."

When she kept her palms pressed to the pinstriped jacket lying over her abdomen, Talbot gently took hold of her elbow, squeezing it a little as he pulled her arm away. With her eyes searching his, she hesitantly let go. Marlowe allowed herself to relax a bit, opting to stare upwards at the apex of the tent as Talbot cast his bloodstained jacket aside.

"That was brand new, I hope you're aware," she laughed, and it faded into a strained cough. "I suppose this is why we can't have nice things."

Talbot shook his head at the comment. It was true. Marlowe had acquired it for him earlier in the week and he couldn't help but admire her ability to crack wise in such an awful situation, because he certainly couldn't do the same.

He began unbuttoning the lower half of her blouse, from beneath Marlowe's chest and downwards. Button by button, her shirt was undone, and Talbot felt face going hot as her toned abdomen was revealed. Until now, he'd never noticed the series of scars marring her otherwise perfect flesh. It was easy to forget that Marlowe had been part of their organization for much longer than he had... and had undoubtedly seen the thrills and horror of battle.

He cleared his throat, willing himself to focus on the task at hand. She seemed to be too preoccupied to notice his embarrassment as he gently helped ease her onto her side, allowing access to the entire injury.

While he examined the wound, Talbot's brow furrowed. The bullet had gone all the way through, with its entry a couple of inches just above Marlowe's left hip bone, and its exit through her lower back. Talbot didn't know enough about anatomy to determine if the bullet had pierced any major organs, but he did know that she'd lost a significant amount of blood. It made him sick thinking about it.

"How's it look?" Marlowe asked tiredly.

"It could be worse," he lied. At the moment, he couldn't possibly fathom a more terrible situation. "The bleeding seems to have lessened. We need to get you to a doctor."

"Well, seeing as there's nobody else around, you're the doctor now."

"Would you like something for the pain?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Though he didn't agree with her decision of not accepting anything, Talbot bit his tongue. Putting on a pair of medical gloves, he set to work pressing gauze against the wound in hopes that it would continue to clot. As he made contact with her skin, Marlowe inhaled sharply. It was only when she released a barely-suppressed whimper that he paused.

It gnawed at him from the inside out that he was doing anything to hurt her. His guilt was only exacerbated by the fact that it was his power to make her more comfortable, and she was refusing to let him help.

"Marlowe," he said gently, with a shake of his head. "Please... let me give you some pain relievers."

She stared off into the distance, not looking him in the eye as she huffed at him. "Fine."

Talbot searched through the stash of medical items and found a pre-filled syringe.

"What is it?" Marlowe asked.

He held the needle in his fingertips, squinting as he read the label. "Is Demerol all right?"

"Perfect."

When he grasped her arm, his hands shaking slightly, Marlowe merely scoffed at him.

"You can't put that into my arm. That one goes elsewhere."

At that, Talbot's face fell. He didn't like what she was implying. "I- what? You're serious."

Talbot felt an uncomfortable heat rising into his face as she casually unzipped her pants and tugged them down enough to reveal a hip.

"Well, go on then," she said, unabashedly.

Talbot fidgeted with the syringe in his hands. He didn't understand how she could be so unfazed by such things. Needles didn't bother him, but he mainly didn't want to cause her any pain. Well, any more than she already was, at least. Not to mention the fact that he had seen more of her body in the last five minutes than he had his entire life...

Inhaling a deep breath, Talbot injected the medicine, and Marlowe suffered it silently. He waited a minute or two before continuing, in hopes that the drugs would take effect. Thankfully, Marlowe's entire body seemed to relax as she made herself decent again.

"I'll need to bandage this," he said, face still flushed.

Marlowe took the hint, and managed to sit up with Talbot's aid. She leaned against him as he wrapped several layers of gauze and bandages around her waist. As his palms brushed against her skin, her perfect skin, he felt a horrible guilt washing over him. She would be forever scarred by more bullet holes ... because of him.

"I feel like I need to apologize," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

"Talbot, it was just a jab, I'll be fine."

"No, I meant for everything. This is all my fault. If I hadn't-"

"Talbot," she interrupted firmly, "please, not now."

He silenced himself immediately, feeling ashamed that he'd even brought it up. Talbot finished dressing her wounds and as he helped her lie back down again, he could tell that he'd struck a nerve by her pursed lips. It was probably best to give her some space for a while.

"You should get some rest until help arrives," he said gently. "Sleep if you can."

With Marlowe situated and hopefully safe for the time-being, he stepped outside to check his walkie-talkie again. Surely somebody would answer...

Pressing the device to his ear, a deep frown was etched into his features as he paced around anxiously. He received nothing but static and crackling from the other end of the frequency. Had they all evacuated...? Or worse...

Talbot's stomach was flipping again. Whatever was happening outside of the confines of their camp, it surely wasn't pleasant.

Although the fact that Marlowe's men could have been wiped out unnerved him, there were still other ways of acquiring help. He crossed over to the main communications tent and activated the radio there. Even if nobody was answering, he could at least send out a transmission and call for aid. With a little luck, they'd receive his message and send backup as soon as possible.

Heading back to Marlowe's tent, he intended to update her on their current situation, but found that she had drifted into a restless slumber. It was most likely a side effect of the medication he'd given her. Even in sleep, her expression remained peaceful, masking the pain that he knew she must be feeling.

Until now, Talbot had never realized just how strong his mentor was. He supposed that it was a simple fact he took for granted. It was a quality that he knew Marlowe possessed, but rarely ever saw the true extent of just how far she could push herself. He had to admit that he was impressed by her unyielding spirit and fearless nature in the face of danger. If only he could be the same...

Perhaps one day. But for now, Talbot couldn't do much other than wait and remain optimistic.

Before long, the sky outside was darkening as evening approached. If they were to be ambushed at night, they'd be defenseless. With Marlowe sleeping, he could easily survey the area and check for any imminent dangers that may be lurking in the foliage surrounding the camp. He could sneak out easily and be back in a few minutes. Marlowe would never even notice. He hated to leave her side, especially in her prone condition, but he had no choice. He had to stand guard, had to check for any dangers...

He had to protect her.

Quietly stepping across the tent with a grimace upon his features, Talbot had made his decision. He regarded Marlowe's sleeping form as he grabbed his gun from the bedside table and turned to step out of the tent.

"Talbot. Where are you going?"

At the sound of his name, he halted and spun around to see that Marlowe was standing beside the bed. The wounded expression upon her pallid face felt like it could tear a hole straight through his soul. How could he explain that he was just going to leave her on her own?

"You shouldn't be out of bed, you need your rest-"

Despite her injury, she managed to close the distance between them, her eyes suddenly focusing upon the gun in his hands.

"Were you leaving?"

"I was just going to survey the area..."

"You can't leave."

"Marlowe, it's the only way-"

"No, you can't leave me."

Talbot's heart wrenched in his chest as she uttered the words quietly, her voice sounding dangerously close to breaking. Her green eyes were frantic and wild, perhaps the closest to being frightened he'd ever seen her. His shoulders slumped as he pocketed his weapon, releasing a sigh.

"All right, it's all right... let's get you back in bed."

Lightly grasping her elbow, he lead her back over to the mattress, where he produced a few blankets from their supplies and draped them over her to fight against the evening chill of the rainforest.

"Is there anything else I can do?" he asked, once she was bundled up. He felt rather useless being unable to properly stand guard. "Anything at all?"

"You've done enough," she said, with a sardonic chuckle. "If I die here, I don't want to be alone."

Talbot's mouth suddenly felt unbearably dry, and it was difficult to find the right words. He had never been good at such things... and bedside manner was regrettably one of his weak points. With a hand upon her shoulder, he did his best.

"Shhh... " he soothed. "Just relax, you're not going to die."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I'm not going to let you. I swear, I won't leave your side. I promise."

He had never been one to make promises that he couldn't keep, so he said the words with steely determination. It was a way of convincing himself just as much as it was to convince Marlowe. He sat down beside her at the edge of the bed, pistol at the ready, dutifully watching her like a hawk. If anyone tried to harm her, they'd have to come through him.

Silence fell between them as Marlowe drifted in and out of sleep, and the jungle seemed to lull her with its strange nocturnal lullaby. The songs of insects and other native wildlife chattered in the background, both unnerving and comforting somehow as night enveloped the world in darkness.

As time dragged by, Talbot remained vigilant... and he noticed that Marlowe had began to shiver. Talbot knew that she was in a bad way. She'd lost a great deal of blood, and her body was in the stages of shock. Even though it was his first time in the field, he knew the symptoms well. Shivering, cold sweats, labored breathing... it was all there. The continuously dropping temperature outside of their tent wasn't helping matters much, either.

He searched around for more blankets and found none. It appeared that he had no other option, other than something he remembered from his brief medical training. He only hoped it worked...

With his gun still in hand, Talbot carefully sat behind Marlowe on the bed and pressed his body flush to hers. With an arm enveloping her, he rubbed his palm up and down her arm through the layers of blankets... hoping to create some friction and added body heat.

As he rested beside her, Talbot allowed himself to run his fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her eyes and smoothing it behind her ear. In the process, he brushed along her cheek, and he was disturbed by how clammy and cold she felt.

All day, he had been convincing himself that she'd pull through... that they'd make it out of this godforsaken mess together... but with no word from their base and the hours passing by, Talbot was losing hope. He'd be a fool to deny the fact that Marlowe didn't have much time.

In a matter of hours, he felt like his world was crashing down around him and he couldn't help but wonder if his entire life would be this way... nothing but a series of failures and disappointments... and most painful of all, hurting the ones you love. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her, especially if the blood was on his hands. Without Marlowe, he had no purpose, no direction... and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her because of his own careless mistakes.

He supposed that sometimes, promises could only do so much.

Talbot's eyelids were feeling heavy when he was jolted by the distinctive sound of an aircraft engine somewhere overhead. Quickly sitting upright, he listened intently for a moment before getting up and crossing the tent. As he stepped outside, he could see the silhouette of a helicopter hovering in the middle of their camp, its engines slowing as the rotors rattled and blew wind into his face.

As it touched down, several agents came rushing out to meet him. The relief that he felt was indescribable. They had received his transmission... and after a day of hell, they were here to help.

Thank bloody God.

Of course, they asked where Marlowe was first and foremost, and a medic rushed to attend to her. Talbot was bombarded by a flurry of questions, but he answered them all gladly. As long as Marlowe was safe and taken care of, it's truly all that mattered to him...

He was still being questioned when he saw a group of men carrying her towards the helicopter on a stretcher. Marlowe was awake again, and seemingly protesting her manner of being transported. Talbot heard the doctor mutter something about how her ability to remain conscious was admirable... and he couldn't help but smile a bit at that.

His smile soon transformed into a frown, however, when he was informed that there wasn't enough room on the helicopter, and that another would be arriving shortly. Talbot would have to be transported to safety in a separate aircraft. It caused a brief pang in his chest over the fact that he'd have to leave her side, but he accepted the news with a dignity that he didn't necessarily feel.

Feeling slightly lightheaded, Talbot was just about to turn towards the barren tent again when he heard his name being called from the helicopter. He spun to see one of the agents gesturing towards him, beckoning him by waving his hand. He made his way over to the man, ducking low to avoid the helicopter's blades, as the agent yelled over the noise emitting from it.

"Marlowe has requested that you remain with her during the flight. She says you have a promise to keep."

Although the man's tone indicated that he had no idea what she was talking about, Talbot knew... and that was enough for him. He could swear that his heart was pounding over the sound of the deafening aircraft engine, and twenty times more powerful.

Though she was lying back on a cot with several men surrounding her, Talbot dared to glance at Marlowe. The medic moved out of the way just in time for him to see her looking his way with a weary smile... a smile that, despite it all, was meant for him.

As Talbot entered the helicopter and took a seat next to her, somehow, he knew that things were going to be just fine... and for once in his life, he felt like he'd made a promise that he could most certainly keep.