Here There Be Dragons
Rating: T, for violence and language
Summary: It was the second time in her life Wash awoke after she should have by all rights been dead. It was the second time in his life Commander Taylor lost a woman he loved. The answers to all questions lie in the Badlands and Lucas Taylor is determined to unravel the mystery first, even if he needs his father's stubborn lieutenant to do it. It is the second time in his life Lucas needs one woman just as desperately as his father does.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, 'cause if I did this show would have a lot more dino deaths.
Spoilers: Up to and including the season one finale
AN: I know this is probably the hundredth fix-it fic, but it's not like they gave us much choice. I was mad they killed Wash so I'm trying to rectify it. At the same time I'm planning to explore the new mystery, so this is going to be a long ride. Please let me know if you like it and if I should continue with this. it helps to know someone's reading ;)
Chapter 1
Consciousness didn't happen suddenly; it trickled in slowly like a leaking faucet until the sink ran over, until she realized she was alive. She didn't immediately realize that this fact alone was a near miracle; at first she didn't realize much of anything beyond the humming in her head, which was increasing in volume. There was no pain and no memory and before either returned to her she wondered if maybe she wasn't alive at all. Maybe this was heaven. Or hell. Or wherever those who had dedicated their life to war and fighting went when they died.
The memory was the first to return, a version muddled in odd colors and muffled in sound without a coherent timeline. Telling the Shannons to save themselves. The Phoenix Group shelling the colony. Lucas pointing his gun at her face. Lucas pulling the trigger. Taylor ordering her to stay behind. Taylor trying his damndest to keep her safe and ultimately failing so miserably. The thought of the Commander tore at her for reasons she could not explain. She had to pull herself together and find him, to join the fight again.
Rough fingers on her head suddenly focused her attention on the pain lingering at the periphery of her consciousness. Hot, white fire lanced through her skull, shooting across her jaw and exploding in vibrant colors behind her eyes. Her stomach rolled. She was almost glad for the complete inability to move or speak or she might have whimpered and no matter her current condition one thing was sure: Lieutenant Alicia Washington did not whimper.
"Lieutenant." The voice exploded in her head, making her spin. It was stern, but that was a given in the military and Wash could not discern whether it was friend or foe.
A hand grasped her jaw to turn her head, but the mere action made her want to scream. Something warm ran across her cheek. Wash tried to open her eyes, surprising herself when images came into focus. Her vision was hazy, but enough for her to realize she was in the back of a covered truck, facing out into the jungle. A face appeared above her and dread settled in the lieutenant when she recognized the red beret of one of the Phoenix soldiers.
Even in her addled state she could tell they were not in Terra Nova and if she was still surrounded by Phoenix soldiers she was their prisoner. But if they were not in Terra Nova then maybe Taylor and the others had taken back the colony and there was still hope.
"Wash," said the soldier above her, using the nickname only her soldiers and friends did.
She blinked, waiting for the face to come into focus. It was a female soldier with cold, green eyes, dark hair and a distinct scar curved around the right cheek. There was something distinctly familiar about the soldier that Wash couldn't place just yet. She tried to move her mouth to speak, sending only more pain shooting along her jaw. Her tongue felt swollen and numb and she tasted a horrible mix of bile and blood. She looked to the soldier at her side, hating how helpless she felt injured and on her back. Wash would hate it if Taylor saw her like this and he was probably the one person she trusted more than anyone. In this timeline and the other.
"You are one stubborn bitch, Lieutenant," said the soldier, sounding fairly neutral for someone who should consider her an enemy combatant. The soldier was rummaging through a bag at her side, pulling out a few medical items. Her fingers were anything but gentle as she sprayed disinfectant on Wash's forehead and cheek to clean the wounds. Wash studied the soldier's face to try and ignore the pain her ministrations were causing. When the light from outside hit the soldier's face in a particular way Wash remembered.
"Private Black," said Wash despite the pain, her voice hoarse and raspy.
The soldier smirked. "It's Sergeant now." She turned an arm to show off the stripes on her sleeve. "Who would've guessed, right?"
Wash tried to swallow against the dryness in her mouth, to no avail. It took all her strength just to formulate a few words. "You're a mercenary now."
Sgt. Black shrugged. "It pays the bills. Not all of us were lucky enough to get a free ticket to a dino jungle campout."
Wash wasn't really interested in what the Sgt. had to say. She was trying to formulate an escape plan, though it seemed her current condition would make that quite difficult. However, Wash was determined not to let a little bullet to the face stop her. She attempted to sit up with her hands still tied behind her back, but moved no more than three inches before her own pain and Sgt. Black's hand stopped her.
"You do realize you just got shot in the face, right? You don't really want to be doing that." There was a hint of annoyance in Sgt. Black's voice, reminding Wash of what Taylor would sound like in this situation. Thinking of her Commander sent a whole different kind of pain through her body. What if he thought she was dead?
Voices could be heard and someone walked closer, stopping just outside the truck, though Wash could not muster the energy to look. The voice, however, sent shivers down her spine and she hated herself for it. She closed her eyes, not wanting to let the bastard know she was awake.
"What the hell are you doing, Private?" Lucas Taylor managed to sound angry and out of his mind all at the same time. He climbed into the truck and stared down the soldier sitting on the low bench next to Washington.
Sgt. Black made a face. She could take all the fighting, dinosaurs, explosions and ambushes, but this guy was seriously crazy and for some reason someone was letting him be in charge. It had disaster written all over it. "It's Sergeant, actually. And I was tending to the prisoner."
"Why?" Lucas looked at the still woman at his feet. This was the closest he could get to killing his father – killing his second in command, his oldest friend, his companion. If his father refused to die, then Lucas would simply destroy him.
"You did shoot her in the face. You don't think that warrants some sort of medical attention?" asked Sgt. Black, trying to hide her incredulity to keep her job, but wishing someone would get rid of this crazy bastard.
Lucas kicked the toe of his boot against Washington's leg, though not nearly as hard as he would have liked. He wanted to beat her until she begged him to spare her life. He could still see her defiant look as she stared him down right before he pulled the trigger. She hadn't even looked scared and he hated her for it. "She's my father's lapdog. She deserves nothing. Leave her to rot."
Lucas didn't wait around to see if the soldier followed his orders, storming out of the truck as if carried away by his anger. The sergeant watched him go and scoffed, returning to her previous task. Wash hissed as the needle pierced her skin, though more from surprise than any real pain.
Sgt. Black grinned. "Man, now I know why you never let me stitch anyone up. I'm horrible at it."
Wash wasn't entirely sure if the woman was finally being honest about her ineptitude as a medic or merely being flippant about whatever atrocity she was committing on Wash's face. Either way, she decided it wasn't worth caring about. She already had plenty of ugly scars; this one would merely be in a more visible location. Although the brief flicker of worry about what Taylor might think annoyed her to no end. She was not some weak-willed, vain woman.
"Why are you helping me?" Wash decided to distract herself instead, though judging by the soldier's annoyed hiss talking while someone was stitching your face was likely a bad idea.
Sgt. Black ripped the thread with her teeth and grabbed some gauze and tape to cover the wound. "You saved my life once. It's only fair. And anyways, I may be a mercenary, but I am still a soldier and I don't believe in executing an unarmed enemy."
She sat back, as if to admire her handiwork. "It's not pretty, but it'll do. I'm pretty sure your jaw and cheekbone are broken, but you'll just have to deal and hope your face doesn't fall apart. I'd suggest you stay put and don't move; you'll only make it worse."
The sergeant grabbed her supplies and, with one last look at Lt. Washington, jumped off the truck bed. Wash, unguarded for the first time since regaining consciousness, saw her chance for escape. She made it a few inches farther this time, but the excruciating pain forced her back down, pulling her back under into unconsciousness.
xxxxxx
Commander Taylor surveyed what was left of his colony, his eyes sweeping across the ruins and wreckage of what he had helped built. To anyone watching he would appear to be keeping watch, stoic and confident, exuding an intrinsic power that was hard to ignore. Yet Taylor felt like none of those things now. His thoughts were in disarray and if Mira herself walked into Terra Nova right now he probably wouldn't have noticed. He was stoic, but only because he could find no words to say, nothing to voice the anger and misery inside of him. And even though they had taken back the colony, Taylor could not have felt any more powerless and incompetent. It all came down to one single event, something so insignificant in the scheme of this war, yet instrumental in causing his undoing. It all came down to five words, which played on loop in his head ever since that night. He had let Wash die.
Taylor turned as he heard footsteps leading up to the command center. Jim Shannon approached with a look one normally used to calm erratic wildlife. Taylor crossed his arms, bracing for more bad news. At this point he did not even care. Nothing could be worse than what had already happened. And in a way that thought buoyed him, loosening the iron clamp around his heart just the slightest. This was the worst he would ever feel. Even if it never got better, and he doubted it would, it could not get worse and thus Taylor knew he could get through it. He took a deep breath.
"Shannon, anything new?"
Jim shifted somewhat uneasily. He knew the Commander was tough and was pretending to be even tougher, but he could see the cracks in the façade. He dreaded the day it would break entirely. "No, sir. We're ready for you, whenever you want to start."
Taylor nodded silently, ignoring the worried look Shannon was throwing him. He wasn't some fragile doll that would break at any moment, yet it seemed as if everyone was suddenly treating him as such. He would go and lead the funeral procession as he had done many times before. He would stand there and extol the bravery and virtues of his lieutenant to the assembled colonists. He would salute when they played Taps. He would shovel dirt on an empty grave. And most importantly, he would not break.
Commander Taylor turned without a word and made his way down the command center steps. No matter how much he wanted to say, Jim Shannon remained quiet as he followed the commander.
xxxxxx
The next time she awoke she was being manhandled by two soldiers, who were dragging her across the jungle by her arms. Wash tried to lift her head to perhaps get a sense of where the Phoenix Group was hiding out, but found she did not have the strength to move at all. She was as limp as a ragdoll, her feet dragging across the ground. Wash noticed they had taken her boots, to deter her from escaping, but she knew it wouldn't stop her.
The soldiers stopped and dropped her onto her knees. A pair of boots came into her view and she knew immediately who it was. The situation was eerily reminiscent of the one just the night before. Had it been the night before? Wash realized she had no idea how much time had passed since Lucas had shot her. It could have been weeks for all she knew. Wash did not like feeling this disoriented.
"This is how we'll get in," said Lucas, his tone suggesting he was trying to convince someone else of whatever harebrained idea he had had now.
At first Wash thought he was talking about Terra Nova and wondered for the briefest of moments if Taylor would make some kind of bargain to get her back, but quickly squashed that thought. He wasn't stupid. He would not give up the colony to save her and he shouldn't. Wash chalked up her brief moment of sentimentality to her head injury.
"I don't understand." The second voice was also a man's, though his tone was more controlled than Lucas's.
Wash tried to move her head again and this time succeeded in looking up. It was bright and there was jungle all around and suddenly there was Lucas's face right in front of her. He was grinning and the sight made her uneasy, no matter how much she tried to stay calm.
"Look who's awake. How's the head, Lieutenant?" His eyes, Taylor's eyes, were staring her down, trying to unsettle her. Wash remained silent. Lucas made a face and pulled back. "I really wanted to kill you, Lieutenant, but when you refused to die, I realized you could be of use to us still."
He turned back to the man at his side. Wash studied the man as he came closer, but didn't know what to make of him. He clearly was no soldier, but also did not look the businessman type. He was wearing an outfit that reminded her of pictures she'd seen of 19th century explorers, replete with a wide-brimmed hat. The man looked down at her, adjusting his glasses.
"If you think the Commander is going to make any kind of deal with you in exchange for my life, you're sadly mistaken," said Wash as defiantly as she could with her voice hardly working and her head swimming.
Lucas laughed. "Don't I know it? He refused to save my mother; he sure as hell won't be saving you. He doesn't care about you, you know? You're nothing to him. I bet he's over there in his stupid colony, with a new lieutenant and doesn't even remember your name."
Lucas was trying to hurt her, but Wash knew better and anyway, in his rambling Lucas had inadvertently given her the first bit of positive news she'd had in a while: Taylor was back in charge of Terra Nova. She was alive and they were back in charge of the colony; now all she had to do was to escape and find her way back. Wash had no doubt in her mind she would succeed, somehow.
"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" asked the other man, exasperation in his voice as if he'd been dealing with Lucas Taylor for far too long. "How is she going to help us unlock the portal?"
Lucas pulled back. "Other than my father, she has been here longer than anyone. If it's going to work with someone, it'll be with her. I know what I'm doing, Doc."
He said the last part with the sort of intonation someone used when their competence was constantly under attack. The man looked somewhat skeptically from Lucas to Wash and squatted down to look her in the eyes. "My name is Dr. Javier Jones. I'm an archaeologist from Boise. My colleagues call me "Idaho" Jones."
He laughed as if he'd made a joke, but if he had Wash didn't get it, nor did she care to. She was only interested in gathering as much intelligence as possible before making her escape and returning to Terra Nova. Dr. Jones studied her closely. "Have you ever been to the Badlands?"
Wash refused to speak. She was in no way going to give them anything that would aid them in their mission, whatever it was. Dr. Jones only seemed inconvenienced by her silence, but Lucas was already frustrated and kicked her in the side. "Speak, Lieutenant, or you'll wish you had died."
Compared to how her head felt, or beatings she'd taken in the past, the kick was hardly painful, though it set her slightly off balance. Wash righted herself and looked up at Lucas defiantly. "Lt. Alicia Washington, 3780856."
Dr. Jones looked at Lucas, confusion written on his face. "What's she doing?"
Lucas grimaced, hating that his father's legacy could still haunt him when his father wasn't even around. "It's a military thing. If you're captured by the enemy, you only give name, rank and serial number. Too bad this isn't the military."
He leaned down again, his eyes wild and the muscles around his forehead twitching. "I'm not going to tell you again, Lieutenant. Answer the doctor's questions."
Wash knew it was dumb to antagonize him when he was clearly on the verge of losing control. When he had already tried to execute her once. But she was not built for surrender. She'd had to surrender the colony, but Wash vowed to never again raise the white flag. She even managed a smirk as she spoke. "Lt. Alicia Washington, 3780856."
She saw the butt of Lucas's gun coming at her face, but did not flinch as it made contact. Wash welcomed back the darkness, her new faithful companion.
to be continued