A/N: This is my first foray into the Pacific Rim fandom, and I know a number of my followers are going to see this and want to cry because they are hoping for something completely different.
Anyway, I always wanted a little more backstory for the Hansens, their relationship was more interesting and much more real to me than any of the others. There are actually a lot more fics centering around them than I anticipated, but there are still not enough. There are also a number of OC's, but most of them were also Jaeger pilots. I wanted to explore a different angle. So, over the last month or so, I did a ton of research into the Pacific Rim wiki (which saved my sanity), and made a dedicated character descriptions document, a nearly complete outline, and I even have some of the next chapters written! (sorta ;P)
So, here you have it A Drift in the Bay.
I own nothing pertaining to Pacific Rim or Phryne Fisher Mysteries. The only thing I own are my (kinda) dearly crafted OC's.
Edited: 2/1/18
Prologue
August 2003
Hercules Hansen, still in his RAAF uniform from coming straight off-duty, looked down at his newborn son. Astonished that he and Angela had somehow made this wonderful being…Well, more her than him, but he did help.
His son nestled against him, and Herc cracked a smile at the thought.
His son. Chuck.
"He's my son too, Herc," his wife chastised him, smiling and pulling him around to face her again. She still looked like a dog's breakfast from giving birth that morning, but there was a light in her eyes as she looked at their son.
"Come along and give him to me for feeding, so he's not hungry and fussy when Laura and Ryan show up." Herc smiled down at her as she reached up for the bundle in his arms.
"Too late! Let me see that bub!" Came the familiar and joyful cry of Laura Fisher, childhood friend to his wife, as she burst into the room. Herc finished handing off the baby to his wife and sat down next to her on the hospital bed, thoroughly amused by the rapt expression on Laura's face. Ryan came up behind her to stare almost longingly at the child, resting an arm over his girlfriend's shoulders.
"Laura, meet Charles Donovan Hansen, named for both his grandfathers. Little Chuck, this is your Aunty Laura."
"Hey lil' fella, it's nice to finally meet you face to face. I'm the one that's been singing to you all these months, on account of your Mum here, she's got about as much voice as a rabbit." She grinned cheekily at Angela who glared back half-heartedly. "And thanks to you being a boy, I still have a chance at a cracking name."
Herc aimed a questioning glance at the other man in the room.
"Apparently, they made a promise years ago," Ryan said, nodding his head at his girlfriend. "When they were kids, they were obsessed with this book series about a Lady Detective set in the 1920's. Laura here—still a little obsessed," he stage-whispered. "She told me all about it on the way here."
"Well, compared to my parents, she was a much better model for female independence, and I want my daughter to grow up with that kind of strength." Laura said, still smiling at Chuck. "Besides," she faced him putting her hands on her hips, "if you had the same last name as a classy and sexy Australian Lady Detective you'd feel the same way."
July 2004
More than a week out of the hospital and Laura still felt absolutely knackered. She had to have a C-section because the pregnancy had put a strain on her heart, and she was still healing. The doctors had kept her for a few more days than she really thought necessary. No—she knew that it was important with her click-murmur—she could have had a heart attack.
But, it had all been worth it. There, lying in her arms was her beautiful, little Phryne Addisyn Fisher.
Her daughter.
"Hey, love, what are you doing just standing there? The Hansens have just got in from Sydney to see that little miracle in your arms. Not to mention to see you alive and well." Ryan smiled fondly as he saw Laura's eyes light up at the mention of her best friend. He knew moving to Melbourne had been hard on her, but she had borne it well. They had scheduled video calls every week for her and Angela to keep in touch.
Laura moved as fast as the baby in her arms would allow. Practically bowled Ryan over in her eagerness to see her friend.
"Let me see that little beauty!" Angela was just as excited to see Laura's child, as Laura had been to see little Chuck when he was born. It made Herc smile to see his wife so happy.
"How's about a trade? I'll hand you Phryne, and your man there, hands over Chuck…" Laura opened her eyes wide and made a puppy dog face, carefully holding out her daughter to Angela. Herc couldn't hold back the chuckle that rose in his throat as he handed over Chuck. Giving Laura a peck on the cheek and a one-armed hug in greeting, he went to stand next to Ryan to watch the women gush over their children.
March 2005
It had been drizzling lightly as Laura and Ryan pushed little Phryne in her pram on their way to dinner for Ryan's birthday. Phryne was not even eight months old, but she was always trying to take in as much of the world around her as she possibly could. Big gray-green eyes, like sea glass Ryan said, opened wide and staring.
Moments later those same eyes were squeezed shut and Phryne was crying loudly. Laura was barely able to hold on to her child. She was in her own state of distress, sitting on the curb as ambulance sirens wailed and lights flashed all around her.
Lying in the middle of the street, emergency responders surrounding him, was Ryan.
He had seen the car skidding on the rain-slicked road before she had, and shoved her and Phryne out of the way. Leaving himself in the vehicle's path. The driver was this poor girl, only a bit younger than Laura herself, out with her father. The father had been the one to call 0-0-0, and had even tried performing CPR.
It had all been useless.
Ryan Collins
Loving partner, father
and friend
13 March 1981 – 12 March 2005
Laura stood in front of his gravestone for an hour after the funeral. Still not having come to terms with the fact that it was real, and not just some horrible nightmare. Believing that she would wake up the next morning and hear Ryan talking to Phryne in that silly voice that always made her laugh.
Herc stayed with her at the cemetery, while Angela went back to the house to look after Phryne and Chuck. He stood behind her in silence, just giving her space. At last, he stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I know nothing I say is going to make this better." She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. "So all I'm going to say is that we're here for you, whenever you need us." Herc gave her a small, reassuring smile, which she half-heartedly returned. After pulling her into a hug, he wordlessly convinced her to walk away with him.
August 2013
Phryne started asking how things worked when she first started speaking—her first word was 'How'. As soon as she had enough coordination, she started to take apart her toys, and put them back together, but better. She got bored with that by the time she was eight, and she started to take apart her mother's kitchen appliances.
After Laura stopped her from taking apart the microwave, she knew she was going to have to find something else to entertain her daughter. She began telling stories from when she was younger. About how she and Aunty Angela had concocted all kinds of stories and adventures.
And how Herc was a fighter pilot. That had interested Phryne, and the little girl had pestered Herc to no end about how the plane worked the next time they had visited the Hansens. Which had annoyed young Chuck to no end, because they had been visiting for his birthday, and he wanted everyone to pay attention to him.
Chuck began to tease Phryne relentlessly whenever they were together, once even pulled on her pigtails. As upset as the parents had been in the moment, afterwards they all had a good laugh about the cliché.
But anytime that Phryne asked about her father, her mum's face would twist with a pained smile and all she would say was, 'He was a lot like you.'
Phryne began to complain about school, not wanting to go, pretending to be sick. School itself was not hard for her-except for the sports, she was abysmal with anything requiring hand-eye coordination. But, she found virtually nothing interesting in the dull lessons of her teachers and she had little in common with kids her age.
The only time that she felt her whole mind was occupied was when she would stop at the auto-repair garage two doors down from their apartment building. At first, the two mechanics had tried to shoo her away. What would a little girl want hanging around a garage? But after she asked how the cylinders maintained pressure, they just stared at her for a second before the older man had picked her up so she could see into the engine block.
By the next year, at the age of nine, she was stopping by every day-always wanting to know more, and very keen to help. They started her slowly, in places where she couldn't do any lasting damage with her incessant tinkering, and she loved it. The garage had become her home away from home.
Therefore, it was not surprising that the garage's radio that first brought her the news of Trespasser attacking San Francisco.
September 2014
Chuck hadn't wanted to go to school that morning. He'd wanted to stay with his mum, so he could get news of his dad as soon as she did. Herc was one of the pilots fending off the giant monster heading for Sydney. But she had insisted, saying he would be safer at school, and she would come and get him as soon as she heard anything about his father.
But Chuck never expected to hear from his dad first. Or rather, he never expected to see him first. Herc's helicopter had touched down in the near empty parking lot of Chuck's school. Only a handful of teachers and students had even gone in and most of them had cleared out as soon as the evacuation sounded.
Now, Chuck was screaming at his father to turn the helicopter around. To go back for his mother. Herc almost could not bear to hear the plaintive cries of his son, his heart was screaming the same. Screaming at him to turn around and go rescue his wife.
There wasn't enough time! If he went back for her, they would all die. At least this way his son would, hopefully, get to live past eleven. And Angela might have gotten out already. She always had a cool head in a crisis, she would—she would make sure everyone else was out first…
Phryne dropped her school bag and ran for the kitchen when she heard her mother's strangled cry, briefly tripping over the rug. Laura was on the floor, one hand over her mouth, the other holding her mobile to her ear. Tears were streaking down her face as she sobbed.
The ten-year-old girl just stood there in shock at seeing her mother so broken down. The phone slipped out of Laura's hand and Phryne picked it up.
"H-Hello?"
"Little Phryne, that you?" Their visits had slackened over the last couple years, but she still recognized the voice on the other end. It was Herc.
"What's going on Uncle Herc? Why is Mum crying?"
"Your—uh…" He paused, sounding upset. "Your Aunt Angela was—uh—" Phryne heard a sound she never thought she would hear. Hercules Hansen crying. She knew what happened then, and tears started to well up.
"The Kaiju got her, didn't it?" He hummed a response. Phryne had to take a deep breath to stop the sob in her throat. It would only make Herc and her mother more upset if they heard her sobbing too. Mum was still crying, but she was slowing down. There was one question she needed to ask before she could hang up.
"I-Is Chuck okay?" She was proud there was only a slight tremble to her voice.
"Yeah, Sweet-Pea, he's fine." Herc had composed himself. "I picked him up myself." She heard him take another deep breath. "Now you need to help your mum, alright? And can you… Can you tell her I'm sorry that I broke my promise?"
"I will." Phryne hung up and put the mobile down on the benchtop. It was time to help her mum.
February 2020
Sweat dripped down Chuck's face and into his eyes, but he ignored it. He had to ignore it. He had to focus on the Drift, letting it all flow through him. He could not hold onto anything, especially not the image of his mother's face. He could not fail now, not after working so hard.
After the attack on Sydney, his father and uncle enlisted almost immediately, and nearly all the last six years he spent at the Academy or in the Sydney Shatterdome. Chuck enlisted in the Jaeger Academy in September 2019, after his sixteenth birthday, and he had excelled. It helped that he had practically been raised in a cockpit, and on the values of the PPDC.
He was a quick learner and physically fit, but in all previous Drift Sync Tests, Chuck couldn't Drift with any of his remaining classmates for any real length of time and the neural handshake never rose above 55%.
He had no problem letting go and getting into the Drift. His problem, no one was up to his standards.
But, this was more than just regular Drift Sync Testing. This was tryouts for Australia's Mark-V Jaeger, Striker Eureka, and the man he was trying to initiate a neural bridge with, was Hercules Hansen. His father.
Chuck watched the stream of memories flow by, noting what happened with his uncle and meaning to ask his father later. The hardest was reliving that helicopter ride out of Sydney. Hearing his own eleven-year-old voice screaming at his father to turn around and go back for his mother. The call his father made to Laura Fisher and hearing Phryne ask if he, Chuck, was okay. But he could also feel the guilt and sorrow his father had felt.
In that moment, Chuck finally let go of a little of his resentment towards his father.
"Neural bridge initiated. Neural handshake at 85% and climbing."
Turned out that was all he needed to do.
October 2021
There were only two people left in the classroom. One, a tall, broad man in his early twenties, who was near tears with disappointment. The other, a seventeen-year-old girl with brown hair so dark it was almost black, and gray-green eyes, like sea-glass, behind frameless glasses. She was much calmer, but it was a resigned calm, like she knew what was about to happen was not going to be good. All the other cadets had either been given their week of leave before they were expected to return for the second trimester or dismissed from the program.
The door opened and both cadets sat up straighter. They were in the presence of Marshal Stacker Pentecost. Former Jaeger pilot, and one of two Rangers to have ever successfully piloted a Jaeger solo.
"Phryne Fisher?" She sighed inwardly, as she carefully stood to attention, taking care to pull her foot out from around the chair leg. It would not be good if she took a spill in front of him.
"It's Addisyn, sir. Only my mum calls me Phryne these days." He nodded and made a note in the tablet he was carrying, which he had yet to look up from. When he finally did he was surprised to see the other man still in the room.
"Cadet, state your name."
"James Mulligan, Marshal." Addisyn felt bad for the man. He had this forgettable atmosphere around him. Like you only remembered he was there if you were looking right at him. The only reason Addie knew him at all was because he was a fellow Aussie and had tended to stick close to her.
"Mulligan? You are supposed to report to J-Tech for assignment. Were you not called on the roll?"
"No, sir. People tend to forget I'm there, skip over my name and everything."
"It's true, Marshal. I never heard his name called." Addie confirmed.
"Well, move your arse, man, before they forget to assign you to a team." Jimmy nodded and, after remembering to salute the Marshal, ran out of the room.
Marshal Pentecost pulled-up a chair and sat, still looking at the tablet. He did wave for her to sit back down, which was a relief. She was a lot less likely to make a fool of herself sitting down.
"So, Addisyn, you failed almost every single physical exercise past running laps." He sounded slightly bemused at this tidbit of information.
"Yes, sir." Addie sighed, she knew it was a problem. As soon as she did anything that required the slightest hand-eye coordination that did not involve a wrench, it was like her body betrayed her. Well, in fact it was her left-eye that betrayed her; it was slightly amblyopic. It just would not focus properly and that made her depth perception a bit off. Her glasses helped some, but most of the time she just let her hair cover it.
"I wondered why you even bothered enlisting at the academy when I saw that." Addie felt her heart constrict. "However, you passed all your written classes, some with the highest marks I've ever seen." He finally looked up at her, and his eyes seemed to see right through to her soul.
"Did you know that your engineering instructor insisted you take an aptitude test?" Addie nodded, thinking back. She and a couple others had been pulled out of one of the Kwoon combat training sessions to take a written test.
"I was never told what it was for, I was just glad I wasn't going to make a bloody fool of myself in the Kwoon again."
"So they never told you what you scored?" She shook her head. "You have an IQ of 135, and a clear proficiency with mechanical engineering. You could have taught that engineering class if you wanted to." Marshal Pentecost looked at her expectantly.
"I don't know what to say, sir." Addie just sat there, stunned. She always knew she was smart, but not that smart. "I've always been interested in how things work and Jaegers have fascinated me since the concept was introduced at the conference in South Korea."
"Good, because I want to offer you a position as a Jaeger Engineer on Striker Eureka."
February 2022
Addie was up on one of the high rigs when Herc found her, working on a piece of Striker's shoulder plating that had come loose. It was the afternoon after Spinejackal's attack on Melbourne and Herc wanted to make a habit to sit and talk with her after a Drop, while she made repairs. She was a piece of his old life that comforted him, though she had stopped calling him Uncle Herc after Angela died. Not to mention he had promised Laura to look after her little girl.
She was sitting down cross-legged, having trouble with a gasket, and her shoulders were trembling. When he finally got a look at her face, Herc could see that she had been crying.
"Hey, little Phryne." She whipped her head up, and she almost looked angry at his use of her childhood name. But then he saw tears welling up in her eyes and she went back to fiddling. He approached her like he would a wounded animal, slowly, with calm and caution. He carefully put a hand over the tool and pulled it out of hers.
"What's got you in such a state, Sweet-Pea?" She was silent for a moment.
"You know that fight had some of the lowest numbers of people exposed to Kaiju Blue?" He shook his head as he sat down next to her. "Well, it did. That's thanks to Striker's super-heated brass knuckles, it cauterizes as it wounds." Addie started fiddling with the zipper of her coveralls.
"But that just isn't enough, you know, there's always some exposure, and, apparently, Spinejackal's blood was especially toxic." Herc was starting to understand what this was about, and he hoped he was wrong.
"Where's this coming from, little Phryne, eh?" He put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.
"Mum was exposed to Kaiju Blue last night." She hiccupped back a sob. "They caught it quick, with her working in the emergency room." She wiped a hand across her face. "But, by the time the doctors neutralized it, it was too late. Her heart was too weak." A sob escaped, but she took a deep breath.
"Mum died this morning, Uncle Herc. I was going to visit her next month to try and get her to go to Dad's grave. To finally move on, y'know. I wanted to ask if you would come with me." She turned her head, sobbing into Herc's shoulder.
Herc was stunned. Laura had been the last of his friends from his old life that he had maintained any contact with. Now she was gone, like Angela, and all he had left of her was sobbing in his arms.
I hope you like it! Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Let me know :) I would especially love feedback about Phryne/Addie, and whether she seems like a believable character.
PS. If you know who the classy Australian Lady detective is, you get a virtual cookie :3
