Author's Disclaimer: I was unhappy with Uprising for many reasons, but this was the reason I hated it. Small problem - my fanwriter brain couldn't stop imagining ways to undo the writers' sick decision to fridge Mako. I wrote this fic in four hours. I just hope it purges Uprising from my mind so I can get back to Generation K, but I also hope you enjoy, especially those of you who, like myself, recognize the council has reached a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision, have elected to ignore it. I've also beefed up the cause of Jake and Mako's estrangement in a big way, because I felt like they had the ONLY real chemistry in the story, and I wanted a genuine sibling relationship - and if you're gonna make it estrangement, make it a good reason!
BE WARNED...I did use the concept behind an earlier version of the script, that Raleigh Becket died of radiation sickness caused by his time in the Breach. Why would I do that? Simple: as much as I adore them both, I think Pacific Rim's story could survive without Raleigh Becket. I do not believe it could (or should) survive without Mako Mori.
Fix It
The cabin split into pieces on impact, slammed Mako back against the cushions, then hurled her through a tornado of heat, twisted metal, and flash-melting plastics. She didn't have the breath to shout, just curled into herself, arms over her head and neck and trying to press her back into the seat. Thank God she'd remembered to strap in.
Something wrenched her left arm and shoulder - she screamed. With searing heat all around her, pressure slamming her in every direction, for seconds she thought she was falling into the Breach again, struggling against a monster with her sword in one hand and the other arm...gone...burning it with her own fire so close that it burned her in the process.
Blow after blow battered her until she couldn't keep huddled, and found herself still in darkness, choking on smoke and fumes and her own blood, her body twisted in rubble.
She coughed, spitting blood out. Darkness all around. Glass shards digging into her everywhere. The strap across her chest now made it hard to breathe. She tested her fingers - the left sent blinding pain shooting through her arm into her chest. But the right hand and arm worked...she fumbled and squirmed - more pain shot from her ribs, radiating out.
She turned her head, very cautiously. Spinal injuries would be the most dangerous - well, and internal ones, but she couldn't do much about that. To her relief, she didn't think she'd injured her neck or back too much. Bruises and broken ribs, definitely. She wiggled her toes. Her feet and ankles and legs at least worked, though everything throbbed, and AH, her left leg, maybe her whole left side was burned.
She felt secure enough to reach for the seatbelt release again, and despite that she had the impression she was lying in a pile of bricks with only the seat remaining of the chopper, the belt released easily.
Then it stuck, and she swore, trying to wriggle free without blacking out from pain. It was caught on something...she pulled her right arm free of her jacket, then gradually worked the left free. The belt was caught on it.
Using her right arm, she slid it across her body and tucked her left arm - broken, she was pretty sure - against her chest, hissing.
"Pi - pilot?" she croaked.
What was the pilot's name? Mako usually asked...she'd been distracted when she boarded the chopper, so much to think about.
They weren't going to like my decision...that rogue Jaeger was targeting...me.
She slid off the seat onto much harder rubble, cursing as something sharp bit into her knee, and listened.
Silence.
Had they hit a building? They must have. This was concrete under her. But the acrid stench of fuel was in the air, and there was heat rising, sucking the air from her lungs. There had been heat and fire...feeling a draft of cooler air, instinct took over, and Mako started to scramble. There was fire at her back.
Have to go deeper, away from fire, away from the Jaeger...Gipsy...Jake...where are they now?
She slid down a tilted surface and blacked out.
She came to feeling even worse. Her head...she touched it and her fingers slipped in blood. Concussion, or worse. Dizzy, off balance.
Dark.
She scrambled, slid, scrambled, slid, and blacked out again.
Light. Pain. Voices, Australian. "Lot of bodies down here - hang on, I think we've got survivors!"
Someone - someone? - moaned nearby, and Mako tried to call out, but the sound that came out was more like a moan too.
The rubble around her was slippery, and she touched something, then pulled her hand back. It was cold, but...too soft to be rubble.
Bodies down here.
Where am I?
Barking, panting...something warm and soft brushed against her, then she flinched and covered her ear with her good hand as it barked and barked, the noise!
"Max, come here! Remember me?"
He was warm and soft, and that felt nice. She leaned her head against him and he didn't leave, and the voices were getting closer.
"Good girl, Lass. You stay there. Hang on, mate, help's coming!"
...did Mako know that voice? It was hard to pay attention - wait, was the dog's name Lassie? She actually laughed, or started to, then groaned because it hurt so much.
"Easy, mate, easy. We're almost to you - watch it, you lot, take him out easy!"
Someone cried out, and Mako felt something shift nearby. She flinched and shivered, but the warm body next to her stayed.
And she was sure she knew that voice.
She must have blacked out again because there was more light, and the dog kept barking. "I think we're almost to the stairwell. Damn, what a mess, bloody bastards - hey, any word, did they get 'em? ...no, I mean who was piloting that fucking Jaeger, they need to be fucking hanged!"
"...Damn. Damn."
Mako was so woozy, in more pain than she'd ever imagined possible, but now she was certain: she knew that voice.
The dog barked and she jumped. "Good girl, Lass, keep talking. Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
Mako sucked filthy air into her burned lungs and croaked, "Hello?"
"We've got someone! Come on, get this pillar up - watch the supports! Hang on, we're coming!"
Even as she saw a shadowy figure coming through the too-bright, smoky light through a small opening, Mako was sure enough to whisper it: "Herc?"
The figure froze. His voice dropped. "W-what?" Mako struggled to crawl past the dog, who barked in protest, but he came towards her in a lurch. "Good girl, rest," he breathed. The dog was gone. Then a light was shining in her face. She winced and put a hand up. "Mako?!"
It was him. Hercules Hansen. It was. Mako melted, relieved like she hadn't felt in...well, at least three years. Big, strong arms wrapped around her.
"Jesus Christ - I thought you were dead! Ah, figures you'd make it!" Herc's voice sounded strange and choked. She flinched from his lights. "Where're you hurt? Okay, that's a head wound...how're your ribs?"
"Some broken," she managed to gasp. "Left arm is broken...wrist too. Herc...where, how long? What happened?"
"You came down in the Royal Park Plaza lobby - the bloody chopper blew up, and that rogue Jaeger escaped. The whole bloody planet's freaking out." Mako's heart sank. "Search and rescue was sure it was unsurvivable - God, I need to call - "
" - NO!" she clawed at his hand to stop him from touching his radio.
"What? Mako, love, trust me, you're confused. Jake and the Marshals all think you're dead - "
Mako forced all her willpower into getting through to him, despite the fact that her surroundings were spinning and she thought she might vomit. "You say - the Jaeger - escaped." Herc nodded, baffled. "They followed me, they were targeting us!"
"Yeah, I know..." Herc began, then muttered, "Oh, Mako. Damn it, don't make me do what I think you're about to make me do."
She was going to black out again if she didn't vomit first, any minute now. She clung to him and rasped, "Tell no one." She fumbled for her ID badge but couldn't get it free. Herc took it from her and slipped it into his pocket. "'f they – sent - Jaeger - after me - they'll try again - if - alive - "
Her legs were giving way. Herc held her closer, whispering, "What about Jake? At least let me tell him; he thinks he lost you!"
She almost said yes. But even through the nausea and agony and the spinning, something tugged at her memory then. Something that hurt in a different way, and made her want to...hurt back. "No. Not even Jake. Herc...promise?"
She couldn't see. The last thing she heard as she slid down into a tunnel was a sigh, and Herc's voice, sad but resolved. "Okay. I promise. I'll handle it..."
The tear-tracks through the sweat and dirt and blood on Herc's face wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. Retrieving battered bodies of men, women, and children from the shattered ruins of what should have been their shelter was difficult work. Nobody looked twice at tears even among the experienced crews.
Nobody would guess Hercules Hansen had shed tears of joy when he pulled another woman in a shredded business skirt and blouse out of a hole they'd cut in the side of the building.
Nobody would find any identification on the woman, because Herc had quickly ripped the PPDC insignias from her blouse collar and stuffed them into his pockets, along with her ID. Lots of survivors would have lost their IDs in the chaos. Nothing out of the ordinary. In the light, she was unrecognizable, her eyes swelling shut, her face a bloody, filthy mess from that head wound and the rubble she'd crawled through. All too ordinary for search and rescue.
"Survivor?" someone asked.
"Yeah, no ID, but I got her name - ah, Sato." He laid her on the stretcher and jotted the name on the tag. He'd had four Satos back on Striker's crew in the old days, and whenever they deployed with the Japanese Jaegers, it'd even been a joke: Yell, "Hey, Sato" and a dozen different people answered. "Hana Sato." There'd been at least two Hanas at one of the Shatterdomes. That would have to do.
I just hope to hell there isn't a dead woman named Hana Sato whose family I just gave false hope to, he thought.
As usual, though, Herc couldn't fault Mako Mori's judgment, even with a head wound gushing in her face after crawling halfway through a collapsed building from a chopper crash. She was right; until they tracked down that goddamned, stinking, murdering Jaeger crew, better that the world think Secretary General Mako Mori had died in the crash.
As for Jake Pentecost, well…Herc wanted to tell him more for Stacker's sake than anything else. He really didn't have much love lost for Stacker's other kid – though that grudge was for Mako's sake.
Coroners were dealing with over fifty bodies at the crash site, between the fight between the two Jaegers and the fiery crash. It might be a day or two before she was identified, Herc's colleagues had said sadly. They'd offered him a few days off.
Herc had said no. He hadn't taken a day off after his son died. There'd still been lives to save. He might as well keep trying. For both Chuck and Mako, he'd thought. For Stacker and Raleigh. For all of them. All of them he'd outlived.
Finally, a reprieve, but for the tiny detail that he wasn't to speak of it to anyone. He could hide her identity for now, but once in hospital...Herc's mind raced, and he stood still for too long. Lass whined and nudged him, and a couple of the other guys taking breaks were eyeing him.
"Herc? You sure you're okay?" One of them got up. "You need an off shift or two? Mate, nobody'll blame you - people'll are crying on the radios. She was..." he shook his head. "She deserved so much better."
Well. This wouldn't do his pride any favors, but whatever. Pride, reputation, fuck it all if it meant helping her. Herc heaved a sigh, as if giving in to emotions that he'd been fighting down all day (just hiding that they'd flipped upside down ten minutes ago). "Hell. All right. You know what, I'll take this lot to the triage center. The ones inside were scared; it might reassure them to see a familiar face when they wake up in hospital. If you're sure you don't need me."
"Yeah, yeah, we're got complete coverage. More than complete - until Obsidian Fury cut and run, we were calling in crews from Brisbane and Melbourne, expecting a lot more damage."
"'Obsidian Fury?'" Herc demanded. "That filthy, fucking thing has a name?" That was completely obscene. How dare they? Who named it? Where can I get my hands on who sent it?
"No, that's just what the press is calling it, as far as I know." One of the big medical choppers came hovering down to the intersection. "See you later, then."
When the chopper lifted off again, Herc was beside the seven stretchers on board. Perfectly ordinary for one of the rescue crews to escort survivors back and give triage reports.
By the time the chopper landed at Prince of Wales Hospital, Herc had a plan.
I swore after Stacker and Chuck died that I was done with Jaeger Program conspiracies. He'd helped Stacker secure funding from Hannibal Chau, the bomb from the Russians, and the last pilot for Operation Pitfall. (Herc never referred to it as the Battle of the Breach.)
Second-to-last pilot, that is. The last one's here. Thought we lost her, and she's hanging on. I guess I shouldn't have expected any less. All right, Stacks. Once more for old time's sake. One last conspiracy to keep her safe until we find out who the hell did this. Don't worry, Raleigh. I'll look after her.
Once in hospital, Herc wouldn't be able to hide her without help.
He'd also sworn off flashing his old Jaeger Program credentials around either. Hell, he never even told people his name if he could avoid it. The awestruck look in their eyes was always too much to bear.
He'd bear it now for her. As the triage medics moved in, Herc stopped the first one who came near her stretcher. "Who's in charge, love?"
"Uh, Dr. Petyarre," the nurse gestured to a dark-skinned woman examining a survivor whose leg looked like it hadn't survived.
"Okay." He couldn't very well drag her away from some poor bastard about to lose a limb or a life. He leaned toward the girl. "I need your help." He pulled his own ID out.
For the first time in ten years, the way her eyes widened in recognition didn't sting him.
Seventeen days later...
"Congratulations, kid, you canceled the apocalypse - again," said Tendo Choi on the holovid from the U.S, ten days after Mt. Fuji. Both his and Jake's smiles were a little shaky. "Mako'd be proud of you. So would your dad. They'd all be proud of you."
"Thanks," Jake murmured. "How's Allison?"
"Well, y'know. All this stirred up a lot of nasty memories for both of us." Tendo sighed. "Stirred up a few new ones too. Jesus, if you hadn't told me about Newt yourself, I'd have called bullshit."
"I know what you mean."
"How's Gottlieb taking that?"
"Not too well. I can't very well blame him."
They veered off the subject into small talk, then Tendo said goodbye. Jake smiled bitterly to itself. The PPDC needed personnel after losing almost a third in the space of a week, but Tendo'd made no mention of reenlisting.
Nah, not a guy who named his first son Yancy and his second son Raleigh. After Raleigh Becket's death three years ago, Tendo Choi had retired. Much like Herc Hansen, many of the surviving personnel from Operation Pitfall just couldn't take the memories.
Ironic that now nearly all of the ones who had still been part of the PPDC were now dead, thanks to the Obsidian Fury and drone attacks. God damn Geiszler to hell.
Or was it so simple? Maybe Gottlieb was right, and it wasn't really Geiszler's fault. Gottlieb had practically begged Command to let him have a team and a budget to work out ways to get the Precursors and/or kaiju out of Geiszler's head, and had made it very clear in his briefing yesterday that if they didn't give him a team and a budget, he'd still try.
He'd gotten his team and budget, if only because Command wanted to keep an eye on him.
Jake had already said his peace to Geiszler. He had no desire to talk to the bloke again. But, well, on the off chance Gottlieb was right and Newt was...the Winter Geiszler or whatever, if that project succeeded, they'd have insider information voluntarily.
Someone buzzed his office door. "C'min."
Amara poked her head in. "Didn't we have a simulator date?"
Jake jumped and looked at the clock. "Shit, yeah, sorry!" He went with her to the sim room, but warned, "I spent all morning on calls to old friends. My brain's gonna try to go places, and none of 'em are very nice."
Amara sighed. "I spent all morning in the infirmary with the other cadets. Another casualty list from the drones came around. I didn't know anyone here that well, but the others did. They're taking it hard. Guess this is the first chance anybody's had to really think about it."
Yeah. More funerals to follow. A whole bloody lot more funerals. "You know, three weeks ago, on a day like this, we'd just cancel practice. But after what happened, I think we better all keep it up, even learn how to drift when we're in a really bad mood."
"Right. We know they're not giving up. They're not gonna wait until we're ready."
So when the drift dialed up, the first emotion that swept over both of them was grimness. Yeah, this is not gonna be fun.
Tendo forced a smile on the vidcomm...
...Yancy and Raleigh Choi...
..."everybody's dead, fucking EVERYBODY is dead!"
..."Cadets, this is what happened in the last war, and now you've had a taste of what'll happen in this one."
...thanks for that inspirational speech, Lambert!
..."'I'm handsome and sexy...' He is handsome and sexy.'"
What?! The drift lurched, but Amara was laughing.
"Hey, mind your own business!"
"I'm not the one who said it!" Amara protested. "Ohhh my gawwwwd, you said that to Mako Mori!?"
Well, yeah, she is my sister!
...was. Was my sister.
Damn Geiszler to hell...
Mako...Mako...an outstretched arm...not enough, not enough... "Mako! Mako!"
"Warning. Right hemisphere out of alignment."
"Jake? Hey, Ranger Pentecost - Jake! I'm losing...what's...where are..."
The last thing he thought in the present was that he hadn't had a chance to lecture Amara about ways to pull her partner out of a rabbit.
He'd been sitting in Los Angeles County jail for six...bloody...stinking...days. Okay, maybe Mako thought he needed a lesson, but there'd been no air conditioning in that place, it was hot as hell, and all for a bloody petty theft. It hadn't even been Jaeger tech.
He was a little surprised to see Mako herself walk in. She usually just bailed him from a distance, then scolded him on the phone. She looked stressed, but he blew up before she had the chance to say a word. "Fucking really?! Six days you left me in here, Mako? Wasn't a lecture enough? Afraid I'm gonna ruin your reputation? Sorry, I'm too bloody hot and tired, so I'll have to skip the family reunion! I need a shower and a change of clothes!"
The look on her face was...odd, like a hundred emotions went flashing through her in the space of three seconds, then something black and bitter and...really bloody intimidating took over, her lip curled, and she snarled right back at him, "This is the last...time, Jake. Don't get into trouble again, because I will never bail you out again, do you understand? Next time, you can rot in here as far as I'm concerned." She spun on her heels and stalked from the room, but not before he yelled after her.
"Then piss off with the rest of the prissy suits where you belong, Mad-damn Secretary General! I won't need your help again!"
Okay, that was probably a lie, but he'd just have to make sure he had the cash to bail himself out from now on. Yeah, a thank-you should probably have been in there somewhere, but six bloody days? That was unnecessary!
He stalked back into civilization, wanting nothing more than to get home and take a shower and get some real sleep and real food, but outside Manchez's liquor store, he glanced at the TV and saw the red Breaking News headline:
Jaeger Pilot Raleigh Becket, 34, hero of Battle of the Breach, dies of long-term radiation sickness in Anchorage.
"...oh, fuck," he breathed. It slammed into his chest and took the wind out of him. Fuck! Fuck! FUCKFUCKFUCK!
"Does that suck or what?" some random white guy sighed theatrically. "I didn't realize how young he was!"
"Man, the whole planet's gonna turn out for that funeral," said someone else.
Fuck. Jake started to turn and retrace his steps. He had to go back. Wait, no, not back there to the jail, she'd be long gone, where would she...Anchorage, right. Funeral. Fuck, he hated funerals. Almost as much as he hated apologizing.
Still...shit, he hadn't known, he'd been cut off from civilization for six days, how could she expect him to have known...?
He stood there for the better part of an hour. Then he went home. He stared at the news and didn't dance at the party and tried to compose an apology in his head.
He dug out all his cash and looked up airfares. His cash reserve wasn't even close to enough, but maybe if he sold some stuff...yeah, there it was, he had more than enough shit to sell, he could get the money and be in Anchorage by morning.
He didn't. He could hitchhike. There were plenty of construction trucks running up and down the highways. A duffel bag of stuff to swap, some cash down his shorts, and he could be in Alaska in a day or two.
Raleigh Becket's funeral was in five days. He could be there in time to have Mako's back, give her a shoulder if she needed it. She might not want one, especially not from Jake right now, but at least she'd know he was sorry and he was here if she needed him.
Or in the end he could quit being a coward, pick up his phone and bloody call her right now and beg her to forgive him, tell her he hadn't known and he was so bloody sorry, and if she wanted to talk, he'd be here for her, day or night, or if she said the word, he'd go to her and stay with her as long as she needed.
He didn't pick up the phone.
He didn't sell his shit and buy a plane ticket.
He didn't hitchhike.
Raleigh Becket's funeral came and went. Jake watched it on TV. She was there, stoic and dignified to anyone who didn't know her - absolutely empty to anyone who did. The world did turn out for him.
He didn't turn out for her.
Days went by...then weeks, then months...years...
...the next time they talked was three years later after he got picked up in rogue Jaeger. She acted as if it never happened, and he went with it, but it hovered in his awareness like a ghost drift, and he had a feeling it was the same for her. He thought about it every time he saw her after that. He knew he owed it to her. It just never seemed the right time.
He talked himself into waiting. Again. He'd wait until she didn't have all this drone stuff on her mind, and he'd say what he knew he needed to say. He owed Mako some serious groveling. After the vote, he convinced himself, he'd talk to her after the vote.
"Failsafe Protocol 4. Both parties out of alignment past safe limit. Simulation ended."
Jake stared at the simulator lights under his feet, leaning forward in the cradle. Next to him, Amara coughed and gasped...he could feel sobs choking her throat like last time...only not entirely like last time...
This time, she was crying half from grief, half because she was so mad.
"How...how..."
"What the hell did you two drift into?!" AND, there was Nate. "You were out of alignment for nine minutes!"
They disengaged and Amara stared at Jake, horrified, outraged, disgusted...check off the whole list, whatever someone feels when they find out someone's done something completely unforgivable. Jake sighed and ignored Nate. "Say it," he told her. "You know you want to."
"HOW could - " She caught herself, glancing from Jake to Nate and back again. Nate raised his eyebrows, but to both of their surprise, Amara forced the explosion of angry words back. "I...don't...want to say anything. Sir. I wanna do something, but I think I'd get kicked out of the program again. Can I walk away instead so I don't have to look at you, sir?"
Ouuuuuch. And there was Nate, looking all confused. Handsome, sexy, slow on the uptake. "Come on, Lambert, catch up with the class. It's the same rabbit you swore you'd kick my arse for on the way to Sydney."
Nate finally worked it out. "Oh."
Only he didn't get the chance. His time ran out and so did mine and so did hers. I never did say a bloody word to her about the love of her life dying, let alone apologize for being an absolute bastard to her when she bailed me out of jail the next day. Nate was gonna kick my ass, and hell, I was gonna let him, then she died in front of us.
"Can I go?" Amara demanded again, halfway between bursting into tears and punching Jake in the balls.
Nate hesitated, but Jake muttered, "Let her go." Hell, let her hit me. Somebody should.
"Dismissed," Nate muttered. Amara bolted. Jake didn't watch her go. He pulled his helmet off and decided it had to be the ghost drift with the kid making his mouth so shaky.
Damn it, girl, stop making me ghost-cry!
Mako...I'm sorrysorrysorrysorry...
"You there?"
Fuck off, Nate. "You should've kicked my arse."
"Couldn't. Not after."
Jake was trembling. "Y'shoulda..." Hell, I'm losing my ability to speak English? Damn kid and her damn emotions. "'specially after."
Nate turned and left, but Jake had only a few seconds to feel relieved before he heard the equipment locker slam. Fuck, hell, no! "No, uh-uh, hell, no - "
He bolted for the door, but Nate caught him in the door way and body checked him backwards towards the simulator. "Yes, yes, we are, c'mon, move!"
"NO!" I won't be able to control, won't be able to hold, I can't I can't - "I just drifted with a freaked-out cadet thirty seconds ago, what're you doing?!"
Nate yanked them nose-to-nose. "What you said I should do. Kicking your ass."
...Oh.
Jake didn't resist after that. Just braced himself to hurt like hell.
Their handshake was wasn't their strongest, but it wasn't their weakest either, because Jake let Nate lead the drift. He'd never let Nate lead the drift in his life. It'd been a little like tug-of-war in Sydney at first, both of them fighting to hide their memories of eleven years. Jake's memory, the shittiest thing he'd ever done in his life, bar none, and he'd done a lot of undeniably shitty things, that was naturally what pulled them in.
Now Nate led and Jake followed.
The entire PPDC turned out in Anchorage, to say nothing of the civilians, for Raleigh Becket's funeral. People were there who Nate hadn't seen since shortly after Pitfall and the wave of retirements. You'd think people would be enjoying their retirement, but they all looked a lot older than seven years should've accounted for.
Then again, the last time Nate had seen Mako Mori was a week ago, and she looked like she'd aged twenty years. She also looked smaller.
Now that he thought about it, maybe she'd seemed bigger with Becket her constant taller shadow. Nate could probably count on two hands the number of times he'd seen one without the other.
He'd been so pissed at not making the list of candidates for Gipsy Danger in 2025. Whoever the experienced pilot was, Nate hadn't even been on the list to try.
When he'd seen Becket and Mori together, he finally got over it. Yeah, those two...everyone said it'd been puppy love at first sight. No really public displays of affection, but "man, the phrase 'heart eyes' was invented for them," somebody said just when they exchanged a look in the background during a conference call. And the whole Corps gossip chain went wild anytime everyone saw them touch each other. There was never a confirmed sighting of a kiss.
Queen and King of the Jaeger Program. Pilot instruction, drift and combat training, J-Tech engineering, deployment strategies, even K-Science, they were in to everything. As the years went by, Mori was more leadership while Becket stayed in the trenches, but they still always seemed to be together.
Reporters blathered about her poise, her stoicism at Becket's. Some bitched about her coldness – one snippy asshole got punched by an outraged J-Tech after making the mistake of criticizing her too close to the Anchorage Shatterdome gates.
Throughout the funeral, Nate wondered where the hell Jake Pentecost was. Surely he wasn't going to miss this, of all fucking days. But Nate never saw Jake.
Two days later, Nate and most of the Rangers and senior techs were still in Anchorage, covering people taking leave - half the local population had gone on bereavement - when he and Jules happened past a room full of unmistakably drunk voices.
Nate was about to lay down the law, but Jules grabbed his arm and yanked him bodily away from the door. Thank God, Allah, Yahweh and the Flying Spaghetti Monster that she was good at recognizing voices.
At a very narrow angle, he managed to see who was in there.
Holy. Fuck. It was a meeting of the Greats. Hermann Gottlieb, Tendo Choi, Hercules Hansen - and Mako Mori, and the three men had some way some how managed to get Mori good and drunk. God bless them. Her voice was rough with tears, so were theirs, but whatever she was going through, they were forcing it out of her.
Nate and Jules desperately tiptoed backwards, but they froze when they heard Hansen say, "Where the fuck was Stacker's boy? Jake, I know he went wild, but he at least called you, right?"
Mori started coughing. It was several seconds before she answered dismissively, "I haven' - " she hiccuped "I haven' seen Jake in years. No idea where he is."
Jake ripped harness and helmet off, fell to his knees, and puked his guts out on the simulator floor. In between heaves, he sobbed.
In the ghost drift, he could feel Nate behind him, waffling between wanting to hug him and wanting to kick him.
Instead, he just let Jake clean the mess up, though he didn't leave.
He hauled Jake to the officers' lounge after, handed him a bottle of whiskey, and got himself a beer. "Brother, that's the only time I've ever seen you be a fucking coward."
Jake's voice failed the first time he had to answer. It took several swigs and a lot of coughing before he could answer. "I know. You know me, I always go for broke. It's not enough I be shitty once, I won't admit it even when I know I've been shitty, and I procrastinate my sister's whole life away without telling her I'm sorry her soulmate died. DAMMIT!" He slammed his fist on the table and pressed it against his face. He had no right to want this pain to stop. He'd been earning it, day by day and year by year that he went without talking to her.
"I'm sorry, man."
Jake snorted. "What for? We both know I deserve it."
"Maybe. 'm sorry anyway. Dunno, maybe more for her than for you, maybe you deserve it, maybe not. I'm not a priest, I dunno how all that deep absolution stuff works."
Jake stared at the bottle. "You and Jules. After that - did you ever tell - "
"About what we heard?! Fuck, no, are you kidding?!" Nate demanded. "Jules said I better take what we saw to the grave, and if I ever had another drift partner, I damn well better make sure they take it to the grave."
"So Shauna knew?"
"Of course she did, we drifted for two years. She never told anyone, not even her wife."
"Is she coming back after surgeries are done?"
"Now you're changing the subject. But no, she's not. She was going to until the drone attack, but she and Mallory lost a lot of friends. They're both going civilian." Nate grabbed Jake's whiskey bottle for a makeshift shot of his own.
"Sorry." The irony struck a second later, and Jake burst into bitter laughter and pointed at himself. "There you go, Jake, see how easy that was?" He dropped his head onto the table, and felt Nate's hand on his shoulder this time.
After another long, painful silence, Nate said, "Hey...y'know, as shitty as you were...she didn't have to bring you here. She could've grabbed Amara and Scrapper and left you. Nobody would've questioned it or maybe even noticed until you went on trial, and then only if the press got ahold of it. She didn't."
"I know. That just makes me worse. Even then, I could've...the first thing I should've done was find her and say it. I knew it. I still didn't. She knew it. I don't know why she bailed me out. She held grudges, man, she could hold a grudge! And, hell, nobody who wasn't a kaiju ever gave her a better reason. She never forgave me; I could tell."
"Maybe not, but she still picked you to pilot Gipsy with me. She didn't have to do that either. We could've found someone for me; for that job, what we thought it was gonna be, even a weak handshake would've been fine. Or we could've sent another Jaeger as her honor guard. She wanted you."
Jake shook his head. "Why?"
"I dunno, man. I guess that's the part you've gotta live with."
"Yeah."
The next day, Amara was still avoiding Jake, so he hunted her down. "If you want to co-pilot with me again, you've gotta learn to face shit like that in the drift."
Amara glared at her feet. "What if I don't want to co-pilot with you again?"
Bluffing doesn't work twenty-four hours after a drift. Outwardly, Jake shrugged. "That's your choice."
Silence fell, and this time she broke it. "I can't...believe...you did that."
Jake sighed. "I wish I could say 'neither can I,' but it's not just one thing I did, I know. It's three years of things I didn't do. And I'm gonna live with that for the rest of my life, knowing I can never make it right. You'd think after my dad died, I'd've learned better."
"Yeah." Amara tilted her head at him. "Can I just hate your guts for another day?"
Jake almost laughed. "Sure. Knock yourself out." He weirdly felt a little better when he let her go.
A couple hours later, Hermann Gottlieb came rushing up to him. "Ranger Pentecost! I've been looking for you!" Jake tried to demur; he did not want to think about Newton Fucking Geiszler today. But Gottlieb insisted, "There's someone here to see you and your co-pilot!"
Nate was already waiting when they arrived in the conference room, looking equally lost, then Gottlieb tapped his comm and announced, "I've found them."
Hercules Hansen walked in. Nate shot to his feet. "Marshal on deck!"
"Sit the hell down, will you, I'm bloody retired!" Hansen snapped. Jake started to laugh, but while Nate obviously annoyed Hansen, the look the ex-Marshal shot Jake was...something else altogether. Oh. Right. Yeah, he's got a few things to say to me, I reckon. Jake braced himself for yet another well-deserved tongue-lashing, but to his surprise, Herc was quiet. "'m taking you, your co-pilot, and Hermann on a little trip. Don't argue, no questions."
"Sir?" Nate questioned, completely missing that last bit.
"And don't call me 'sir,' I'm ten years a civilian!"
"Sorry, sir. Uh..." Despite being the most persona non grata in the room, Jake couldn't keep the grin off his face as Nate flailed to salvage his self-image. "How long?"
"No idea, but this is top priority, top secret - "
This time Gottlieb jumped up and raised a warning hand. "Herc, old friend, in light of recent developments, you should absolutely not be exposing me to any secrets."
Herc, Jake, and Nate all blinked. "What?"
Gottlieb sighed. "As you may recall, I also drifted with a kaiju. And while I feel no loyalty to them whatsoever and a considerable resentment towards them and the Precursors, who's to say that won't change? Newton was many things before that drift, but he was not in any way a homicidal maniac. He is now."
"He's been drifting with a kaiju brain for fun for ten years, mate," said Herc. "You did once. I'm pretty sure you're clear. Besides, you deserve to know this."
Jake and Nate exchanged baffled looks. Jake decided to dare address the kaiju in the room. "Are you seriously suggesting there's something I deserve to know?"
Herc shot him a look that wasn't as scathing as it might have been. He must have believed what Mako told him and never learned Jake had all but spit in her face the day after Raleigh Becket died. "It's not up to me. I'm doing this as a favor, but anyone you drift with is gonna know, so he comes too." He gestured to Nate.
Nate grimaced. "That means Amara too."
"Who?"
"Amara Namani, recruit, ran Gipsy with me in Tokyo after Nate was hurt," Jake clarified.
Herc frowned to himself, then huffed. "Aw, hell, that kid with the little Jaeger?"
"Yeah, Scrapper."
"Damn. When'd you last drift, Tokyo?"
"Last night," Jake said reluctantly. "If I'm about to learn a big secret, so's she, and I warn you, she's too curious for anybody's own good.."
Herc heaved another sigh. "All right. We've got no choice, then. Bring her."
It wasn't until they were in the air that Herc Hansen dropped a few more hints. Harshly. "Look, d'you lot have a death toll yet on the last three weeks?"
The three pilots and Gottlieb exchanged awkward looks. "Well over ten thousand," said Gottlieb grimly. "Expected to rise."
"Because that's at least how many lives are at stake even without knowing the Precursors are gonna try again. You never discuss what you find out on this trip, understand? Not even among yourselves."
"So we can't even if...whatever it is goes public?" demanded Amara.
"Believe me, if the information gets released, you'll know, and it'll be moot and you can talk all you want. Until then, not a bloody word from any of you."
"Where are we even going?"
"Classified.
None of them recognized the skyline of the city they approached until they were on top of it. "We're back in - "
Herc made a sharp gesture at him. Gottlieb sighed. "So I can have no further contact with Newton."
"We talked about this, mate. Nobody goes into a room with him - and thanks, Jacob, that was a really stupid thing to tell him. The guy's got his own mental frequency to the Precursors, and we're pretty sure it's got a ghost drift of its own."
"Mate, I saw nine hours of footage from that room," Jake protested. "He - or they - whatever or whoever's in his head, they were spewing out melodramatic declarations of war every few minutes!"
"I must agree with Ranger Pentecost, Herc," said Gottlieb, to Jake's relief. "They've made their intentions towards us very clear; those intentions won't change simply because one man threatened them in response."
"Hm." Herc shot him a dubious look as they landed...on a hospital helipad.
"Where are we?" Nate muttered, as Jake tried very hard not to look at the skyline of Sydney, Australia.
Of all the places I don't want to be, this ranks in the top one.
"Security level. Other than that, nowhere." Hansen pointed at them. "Do I need to have that security briefing again about the lives at stake? You know how many people died in this city three weeks ago alone?"
Four thousand two hundred sixty-seven and counting, another ninety-three still missing. Jake didn't answer and really didn't want to think about it.
They had to go past guards to get off the helipad, then more guards to get through the door. Now inside, Hansen was no longer yelling. Rather, they all had to step uncomfortably close to hear him. He gestured to another clutch of guards down the hall. "Thank God for VIP floors. This is where the dignitaries and highest-security patients come."
"So someone's here with information about the Precursors?" Amara whispered. "Someone who's a big threat to Geiszler?"
Gottlieb winced, but Herc's eyes suddenly softened, and he actually smiled at her. "Glad there's someone left in the Corps with some brains. You're half-right, love. There's a massive threat to them here." His eyes fell on Jake. "I'd've come sooner, but wasn't sure there'd be any real news until yesterday."
...that was when Jake knew.
The world tilted off its axis. It was Nate who caught his breath, and Amara stiffened as Jake's emotions blasted through the ghost drift like a nuke.
Jake stepped back from the group. He looked past them at the guards...who were guarding a room, a high-security room, where...where...someone would be inside...kept safe...safe...safe and alive...
He started walking. "Jake?" called someone.
He started running, but then there were guards in front of him, and he tried to tell them to get out of his way, but all that came out of him was a noise. People ran up behind him and dragged him back - he would've shouted, but someone clapped a hand over his mouth.
Hercules Hansen snarled in Jake's ear. "Pull. Yourself. Together! She's not in any condition to deal with a meltdown!"
She.
He nearly dropped to the floor. "Jesus, Hansen! A little warning might've been nice!" Nate snapped, and knelt next to Jake - oh, Jake was kneeling on the floor. "Hey, brother, I hate to say it, but he's not wrong. C'mon." Nate snapped his fingers in front of Jake's eyes. Jake could feel Amara's hand on his back, but she couldn't say anything.
Jake pulled himself to his feet and ordered himself to do - what Herc said. Pull yourself together. Reality might have just been re-written, but fuck that, for once it was in a good way. The best way. He looked at Herc. "You said not - I can talk to her, right? No one's listening?"
"Yeah, it's fine. Just not about her once we leave. As long as she's still in a civilian location, her being alive is highest-level classified, and she can't be moved for a while yet."
"How bad?" asked Gottlieb, sounding hoarse.
"Skull fracture was the worst. She went into a coma until two days ago. Broken bones, internal injuries, burns. I found her almost on the other side of the building they hit nearly twelve hours after; the girl bloody crawled through it. All that and she knew Obsidian Fury'd come after her and it'd costs lives; she told me to keep her being alive quiet." Herc got in Jake's ear again and purred, "That girl is her father's daughter through and through. You bloody better start living up to it, and I don't bloody care if that's a heavy legacy!"
Jake pulled away but met Herc's eyes. "I will. I swear I will."
Herc looked past him at the guards and nodded. "Let him in."
Mako had thought she heard his voice, but wasn't sure. Her head was still so foggy. It was annoying. She was driving Dr. Petyarre insane with refusing drugs. She didn't want any medications when Jake arrived.
Then suddenly he was in the doorway. Mako blinked. She'd dreamed it often enough, but he didn't disappear this time.
His mouth moved but nothing came out.
"...Jake?" she whispered.
He moved like he was under water. Or still piloting a Jaeger, slow and deliberate. He came to her bedside, put his hand on hers...he was real.
"Mako," he sank to his knees next to her, staring at her face. Then there were tears falling, and he was shaking from the effort to not sob, and it was as if they were ten years younger again, mourning her Sensei and his dad. "Mako, aishitemasu," he choked out. "I - I - sumimasen deshita." She realized he was trying to bow, but couldn't seem to do it while holding onto her hand.
She was still completely speechless when he finally gave up and blurted, "Dammit, eighteen years of Japanese and I've forgot all of it!"
Laughing was very uncomfortable for her ribs and diaphragm. But she couldn't help it...it was so very Jake. She squeezed his hand and croaked, "Well, I'm sorry I left you like that for weeks. I should have told Herc to tell you."
He looked at her, and it hit her that he wasn't trying to apologize for not catching the helicopter. No, this was a grievance considerably older - and far, far deeper. It was something she couldn't just say "it's okay" for.
"'m sorry I...hell, I'm sorry I'm dropping this on you now, I just...can't let it go by again." He let go of her hand but pulled closer to her, closer than they'd been since they were teenagers, not competing constantly for Sensei's praise. She hadn't seen him look this desperate in a long time. "I'm sorry, for being such a cowardly bastard. For not - not being there when you needed me most." He shut his eyes, took several shaky breaths, and when he opened them, her breath caught, because for a moment, she saw Sensei. "I know I've got no right to ask you to forgive me, and maybe you never can. But I'm sorry. I couldn't let you go another second without hearing me say it."
It was a long time before she could answer, and she was the one who broke eye contact. "Jake...I can't..."
"It's okay, I know you can't - "
" - Shut up and let me speak!" He blinked and cringed. "When I...when I brought you back, it wasn't because I forgave you. I haven't. You're right, I probably never can." He swallowed hard but didn't argue or beg. Well, she hadn't expected either of those. "But it wasn't just...for the Corps either. For part of the last three years, I've hated you." That made him flinch, and she grabbed his hand back. "Or at least I tried to hate you. I wanted to. Then someone, just in passing, they said the opposite of love is not hate, it's apathy. I realized I could never feel that about you. By the time you were arrested, I'd already admitted to myself I missed you and always would."
"You had more courage than me," he said softly. "You always did. I think Dad saw that."
She was instinctively defensive. "I never tried to take anything from you. Especially not your father," she heard herself say. They'd had this argument before and it never ended well.
Until now. "Hell, I know that. I knew that a long time ago, just didn't want to admit it." Now he had a sad puppy look that reminded her of Raleigh, and that was annoyingly weird. "I wasted so bloody much time thinking you were my enemy. Even after Dad died, you had - you had - " he gulped and looked away. She managed not to prompt him, and he managed to put the words together on his own. "Raleigh Becket. When you were together, I'd never seen you happier, but I should've been happier for you. I didn't realize how much it mattered 'till you were gone."
"Are you trying to bury me again already?" she asked dryly. He sputtered at that. "I've only been dead for seventeen days, Jake, not three years. Losing...Raleigh...yes, I've never...it was..." She wondered if she could blame the skull fracture for her sudden loss of English. "I loved him," she whispered. "I love him."
Jake squeezed her hand. "I just hope he deserved you. I never got close enough to find out."
She looked sharply at him. "I decide who deserves me, Jacob Pentecost, not you. Not even Sensei, or anyone else." She'd had that conversation so many times during those seven years, starting with Hercules Hansen of all people. He'd taken it into his head that he'd "stand in for Stacker" in giving Raleigh the "shovel talk," up until Mako very politely declined his command to leave the room, inserted herself between Herc and Raleigh, and invited Herc to take his shovel and, well.
Jake had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. Yeah, you can handle choosing for yourself. 'm sorry you lost him."
There was something she was still holding back from him. Was it right for her to lord it over him that she couldn't forgive him for breaking her heart when she was hiding something that would break his - again?
They weren't the same...maybe. Not yet. But if I go on like this out of spite, how much better is that from hiding out of cowardice?
"Jake...you need to know something." He waited patiently while she unwound the bandage on her left hand. The wrist was broken; the hand was just burnt. He leaned forward; it was easier for him that for her with a broken collarbone. She watched his face as he grimaced at her burns...then his gaze fell on the faintly iridescent blue-green that was clearly no bruise, a patch no larger than a coin.
"What...fhe...fuck...is that?!" he breathed.
"The mark of the beast," she couldn't resist answering. If only she weren't about to tell him something so serious – she could have laughed for a long time at his expression. "Figuratively. It's the mark of the Breach." Jake sucked in his breath, working out what she was working up to. "We still don't know exactly how. But…this is what killed Raleigh."
"What?! No! Mako, no, no," Jake went straight into denial. "That's impossible, no, this isn't some radiation thing, Mako, you're wrong - "
" – K-Science spent ten years researching it; it's not just my imagination - " she began.
"Yeah, K-SCIENCE headed by Newton fucking Geiszler!" Jake thundered. Mako cringed and wondered if he was going to have a screaming fit or a panic attack…or both – then the door burst open.
"HEY, Amara, hey, get back here - "
That American girl was in the doorway, breathing hard, wild-eyed. "I…I…" Her eyes darted from Jake to Mako as someone – either Herc or Lambert, tried to pull her away. "You freaked, and I – felt - "
Mako raised her eyebrows. "When did you last drift?"
"Yesterday."
"Wow." That was a powerful ghost drift. Or maybe Jake's emotions were just that powerful.
"It's okay, Amara," Jake sighed, not facing her or Mako. Amara shot Mako an anguished look over his head. "I'm good, just…can you let us…?"
The girl reluctantly closed the door. Jake didn't look up. But he didn't start shouting again either, so Mako went on, "The…explanation for Raleigh's condition was simpler, for the public. It wasn't exactly radiation. There's something on the other side of the Breach. For our purposes, I suppose there isn't much practical difference. In the end, it killed him."
Jake was trembling again. He squeezed his eyes shut. "How…Mako, how…long have you known? How long does it take?"
"It took seven years for Raleigh. We found the first of…these marks, whatever they are, on his skin a few weeks after the Breach. Geiszler worked out it might affect his health early on; he thought it might have something to do with how the Precursors grew their kaiju. Or at least that's what he said at the time," she muttered. If he did murder my Raleigh…I'm not sure anything Hermann says will save him from me.
"Does it hurt?" Jake asked in a small voice. She almost tried to pull herself out of bed to hug him. She hadn't tried to hug him since they were teenagers.
The night Sensei dismissed him from the Jaeger Program, come to think of it. He pushed me away. Even when they'd been younger, she hadn't hugged him much, or at least, she hadn't been the one to initiate it. He'd actually done it more.
"No. For what consolation that is. It didn't even – even – weaken Raleigh, not really, until the last few months." It happened so fast. He sensed it before I did, but I caught on when he tried not to drift with me. He tried to hide it from me! I was so angry. I barely spoke to him for three days. She had to work very hard not to think too much of that year, the six months leading up to the abyss and the six months after, when she'd come to the conclusion that for some reason, she wasn't going to follow him, at least not right away. Finally, she'd made a choice to keep living and working for more than just surviving day-to-day without him.
She had a purpose still. It was a good one. She was proud of it. Raleigh being gone made it so much harder, even harder than Sensei being gone, but this was her reality, and she'd chosen to live with it. So there'd be people coming after who wouldn't have to find a purpose in vengeance like she had as a girl, or just drift through an empty, dying world like Raleigh had until they met. Maybe people could live and be happy and love without having to fear the kaiju would take everything away.
She blinked back to the present. Jake was staring at her, and there were tears on his face that he was trying with limited success to wipe away. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's still…hard…to remember."
"Mako, you – you can't stay hidden like this, not – you need help from K-Science, actual K-Science, not whatever Geiszler was doing before he went to Shao to make those bloody drones. They've gotta find a cure and they need to know you're alive first!"
"I'm not planning on staying hidden forever, just long enough to get back out of civilian territory." She grimaced. Out of every ailment she had to deal with right now, Breach Syndrome was troubling her the least. "Hermann knew. He worked out the – ah, exposure. Raleigh was exposed eleven times as long as I was, to a dosage far higher than I was. We knew this might eventually happen, but even if it is a death sentence, I still have plenty of time." She gave him a small smile. "I intend to make the most of it."
"How?"
He sounded so despondent. She tried not to roll her eyes. You give up too easily. "Are you that eager to bury me again?"
"Mako!" His voice broke, and she felt guilty. What the hell was she expecting, after he'd mourned her for three weeks, found out she was alive, and now learned she might be terminally ill in the space of an hour?
"Sorry. Jake, look at me." He did, eyes wide and wet. "I know what you told Geiszler and…them. Herc may think it was risky, but I don't care. I'm glad you did. I want them to know."
Jake still looked dismal. "But if the other side of the Breach itself is toxic, that complicates things for a counter-attack."
"That's why I'm suddenly taking another look at Liwen Shao's drone design," she replied. Jake made a noise of shock, and she grinned.
As for your little co-pilot, and her little Jaeger, I like her design very much, a Jaeger that can hold one person. I've already been exposed to the Breach. I'm not afraid of facing it again. She didn't tell Jake that. It would only upset him, and the idea was only that for now: an idea.
Jaegers had been just a crazy idea once. Then a one-person Jaeger had seemed absurd when PPDC Enforcement told her. When Herc told her the rogue Jaeger had been a kaiju hybrid, she'd been certain she was still comatose and dreaming.
"I'm not done yet," she told him. His return smile was a little shaky, but she was glad to see it. "I'll need all the help I can get. They had their chance to leave us in peace and live. They've taken too much from us. I want to make them pay, and know they can never reach us again."
For Raleigh. For Sensei. For my family. For Chuck Hansen and the Kaidanovskys and the Weis, for all of us who were trying to defend our homes and our people. For every man, woman, and child they took from us, every city.
Jake's eyes hardened, and he wiped his face once more with one hand while seizing hers with the other. "I've got your back," he said. "I promise. I always will."
August 31, 2035
Breaking News
MAKO MORI LIVES!
Battle of the Breach Heroine Survived Helicopter Crash in Rogue Jaeger Attack on Sydney in June!
At a PPDC session to hear the preliminary Reports on Resumed Kaiju Hostilities last June, media and dignitaries were stunned when former Secretary General Mako Mori strode into the building.
Secretary General-Elect Percy Fitzwallace (also Mori's predecessor) called an emergency session and emotionally made "the happiest farewell address of my life" before the PPDC Security Council voted unanimously to reinstate Mori as Secretary General.
After the session completed a hasty re-drafting of this week's agenda, Mori met with tearful colleagues who called her survival "miraculous," and "the clearest sign yet that our world's cause is backed by God himself," and "her being among us is all the hope we need for the hard times ahead." In the Memorial Hall, flanked by her adoptive brother, Ranger Jacob Pentecost, former Ranger Hercules Hansen, and numerous other pilots and Jaeger Program personnel, Mori approached her own memorial portrait beside that of her adoptive father and told staff, "You can take this down. I'm not finished yet."
~Fin~
Endnote: So, I hope this is a more hopeful ending for some of you too. Please don't forget to review, and feel free to join me on my Tumblr, 3fluffies dot tumblr dot com, to share our love of Pacific Rim (or rant and rave about the injustice done to that beautiful film by its lousy sequel). Please consider checking out my series Generation K, which includes full-length prequels of the rise and fall of the Jaeger Program, tidbits of Shatterdome Shenanigans, a couple of fix-its for other character deaths I wanted to undo, and my own little sequel!