Chap 4

Sorry for the short previous chapter. I've SLEPT finally, so here's a nice long chapter.. including BeachHead's reason for glee... AND finally.. the recruits get to hand-to-hand!

Many kudos to Sunflare2k5 !!!! Nearly nailed it on the head in her review! Stay outa my head! It's a dark scary place, inhabited only by ideas that should probably never see the light of day. Seriously, good guess!

A good instructor for a military unit like GI Joe would pretty much be everything to those recruits. He's supposed to train them, not only to be in perfect shape, but also to stay alive, and to fit in, and to interact with their teammates. He's supposed to be there for their doubts, questions, gripes, and everything else. When you see the greenshirts follow BeachHead's every whim, and back him up no matter how smelly or ornery he appears, that's what they do for the guy that's taken care of them so well. Even though he might kill them on the PT course, they realize that he's the one who doesn't want them to die for real on the battlefield. In this fic, it's the new recruits.. not really the greenshirts as much, but it's the same principle. So you should see some of the recruits beginning to look up to the evil drill sergeant as they realize they won't actually die from running that many miles. Even little Steen will learn his lessons, eventually.

SnakeEyes is another really GOOD instructor, although he's gotta appear to be the deadly ninja commando.. he still manages his students so well, they don't even realize how easily they follow what he wants them to do. Not bad for someone who can't even yell at them!

Annnd.. now that you're thoroughly bored... here's the disclaimer.. I have neither right nor responsibility to any of GI Joe, and make no money for my feeble writing efforts. Instead I write these as only homage to the awesomeness of the owners of GI Joe, that they might see our love of the comics, cartoons, movies, and toys, and continue to make all of them, more and more to satisfy our demands!

Here's some fic for you, and as always.. Thank YOU for reading!! A gracious and humble thanks to all the reviewers as well! I LOVE to get reviews, especially ones with suggestions and comments!! I'll have to start thinking of special ficlets to write to send my favorites, and maybe have another quiz question soon! Just as a special thanks to all of you guys!

* * * *

Dragging himself out of bed the next morning, he found his leg a little tender but it loosened up well once he walked out to the PT grounds. BeachHead seemed to watch him closely the first few minutes of PT, then wandered away, losing interest once he was reassured that one of his recruits wasn't injured. Steen had noted that very early on. The sergeant might seem uncaring and brutal, but he always seemed to stop just shy of a breaking point, and never pushed someone who had a legitimate injury. Faking an injury was the best way to get his ire up and then the unfortunate person would catch every bit of hell the drill instructor could fling his way.

Moving to the obstacle course, they broke into teams and waited. BeachHead stood in front of them and brooded. By the time they'd begun to fidget, he suddenly paced over to Steen and looked down at him.

"Since Steen is 'just a medic', I'm going to modify the training for just him. Drop your pack, Steen."

Looking around at his teammates, Steen did as ordered. He sat the heavy pack aside. BeachHead paced off to the side and came back with a different bag and dumped it at his feet.

"There's your field medic kit. That's what you would carry, packed it myself on Doc's recommendations. That's what you're gonna carry. To add to the obstacle course.. I'm gonna show you what you would really be doing. So.." He plucked up a whistle and blew a loud blast on it. "I've arranged for some wounded Joes to be out there. You'll have to go find them, and move them back to here. Don't forget to treat the wounds so they don't bleed out before you drag their sorry butts back here."

Steen heard the distinct sound of screams for help and twitched. He'd heard the real thing before, and honestly these didn't sound all that different, albeit, without the real panic in the tones. One of the further voices seemed almost amused.

His attention was yanked back to BeachHead. "Well? Go get them!" He bent and snatched up the medical pack and rushed off, clambering the wall and dropping the bag over before he followed it. Somehow, seeing the guy laying on the ground with splashes of red dye to denote the injuries brought him into focus and he dropped into place to rip open the pack and dig out field dressings to tie around the leg.

"Hi, I'm your medic.. what's your name?" He was grabbed tightly in a fairly good approximation of a paniced wounded soldier.

"HELP ME!! I'm bleeding!!" The Navy sailor shook him by his arms, pointing at his dye soaked leg and yelling wordlessly in a panic.

"Calm down.. I'm fixing you up, we're gonna get out of here.. You look like a sailor.. what's your name?" He bent and checked the man carefully in a quick rundown of dangerous injuries. Instead of answering him, the sailor continued to clutch at him and shriek in a extremely convincing manner. "Thanks for the theatrics.. very believable.. you're up for an Oscar.. let's get you back to the starting line.." Finishing tying the splint onto the 'injured' leg, he secured his heavy medic bag. Then he bent and lifted the guy up onto his good leg, supporting him and struggling to get him back to the start line. He had to boost him up bodily over the wall, and help him every step, carrying most of the man's weight the entire way.

He was met by BeachHead who flicked his hand at the 'victim' who suddenly regained his ability to walk and strutted off to the side, wiping at the fake blood and grinning at Uban and Finnegin. "Heeeeeeey ladies.."

BeachHead snapped irritably. "Can it Shipwreck! I'm watching ya right here!! Steen! Are you gonna let the other guy bleed out? Go get him!"

He jumped and ran.. sprinting out and moving through the course searching for the other screaming wounded man. By the time he found him, it was nearly the end of the course, and he was stumbling. Feeling a bit bad, he listened to the voice getting hoarse. He felt a huge surge of relief at seeing the slender sandy haired man lying on the ground. He finally collapsed next to the desert trooper covered in fake blood.

"Hey.. hang in there.. gonna get you out.." He sucked in air, trying to focus on the situation. The fake blood was all over the poor sap this time.

"Hey.. I'm unconscious now.. just to let you know." The amused tone made him blink. "I'd help you out, but Beach'll put me on PT until the end of time, sorry." With that the man laid his head down and went limp.

"Oh.. that's great.. thanks BeachHead.. you big jerk.." He finished the vitals check, tied field dressings in place, and splinted a leg marked "broken". "Great.. now I gotta get you back to the starting line.. just wonderful..."

He'd been in firefights.. he'd dragged men to safety. But never at this distance, never more than just to cover. He dragged the trooper by one of his battle harness straps on his shoulder, tugging him along as smoothly as possible. When had he let himself get into such lousy shape? Having been in firefights.. having seen real people injured and bleeding, he knew that if this were real, he'd be losing his patient right now. "Uuuungh.. come on.."

He struggled to move faster and reached the razor wire. Checking his 'patient', he felt a little sorry for the poor volunteer, being hauled around as a body couldn't be much fun. Laying down, he backed under the sharp wire obstacle on his belly, dragging the limp trooper along behind himself. He did see him unhook a bit of his clothing from a piece of razor wire once, giving him a quick thumb's up silently. "Thanks.. don't do me any favors.. it's my job to get you out.." A second silent thumb's up and he was finally out. He looped his arms under the trooper and dragged him further.

He started to get tunnel vision and knew he was slowing down, getting to the end of his endurance. He couldn't get his patient to the starting line. He was going to fail, and in real life that equaled one dead man. He struggled to pull the heavy body just a bit further, pushing himself past his endurance limits, starting to pant for breath..

"Alright.. that's enough of that." At the annoyed drawl, he whirled, dropping his 'patient'.

"Ooomph.. ow.. don't drop the victim!" The limp body protested mildly. "Hey Beach, am I still dying?"

BeachHead glanced down and put one booted foot on the man's chest and pinned him there casually. "Shut it, Dusty. You have a sucking chest wound, you can't talk."

"..got it..." Dusty squeaked out. BeachHead turned his attention back to the exhausted and shaking medic.

"I'm sorry.. I tried.. I really did.. I get it." Steen straightened himself up miserably. "I get it now. You're right, I'm wrong. I just lost a life right here. That's unacceptable. I'm supposed to be their last life line and I just dropped the ball."

"..you also dropped me.. just sayin'..." Dusty made another squeak as Beach leaned on his foot without looking. "..erg.. shutting up now.."

The sharp eyes peered at him, searching out his true shame and feelings of inadequacies. "Do you really get it? Cause if you don't.. it's my guys you're gonna be leaving out on the field to bleed and die. I ain't even introduced you to dodging bullets.. trying to avoid steppin' on landmines.. 'cause if you get hit, you're not only useless to my guys what's wounded on the ground.. you're a liability 'cause I'll have to send some poor guy out to drag your bleeding body off the field too. So." He looked at him intently. "Do you really get it? Or can I just write out a nice polite dismissal?"

Steen looked back at him fiercely. "I get it. Now get your danged foot off my patient." His tone made BeachHead's eyebrows raise, but he stepped backwards. The medic stepped up and looked at his downed man. He reached down and took his wrist and heaved him bodily up onto his shoulders and hefted him into place with a grunt from him as well as from his patient. Then he staggered his way across the course until he reached the start line and set Dusty down onto his feet as carefully as possible.

Dusty rubbed his side. "You got bony shoulders."

Steen rolled his eyes, trying to straighten up as his back protested the abuse he'd put it through. "Well, if this was real, you'd already be unconscious or dead, so you wouldn't mind."

Dusty grinned good-naturedly at him then abruptly fell over to lie on the ground limply as BeachHead stalked up and stared down at him. Steen felt the tongue hanging out was a tad overdone. From the displeased expression on the Ranger's face, he shared the opinion.

"Dusty, once you're over the start line, the exercise is done. You can stop being injured now." When the trooper opened his eyes and grinned, beginning to get up, Beach planted a foot in his chest and pushed him back down. "However.. if I catch you sneaking around the female barracks at two in the danged morning again.. you will really need to be carried to the infirmary... do we understand each other?"

"..yeah.. got it.. " Dusty coughed when the combat boot was removed from his chest. "Can't a guy have a little fun?" He got up and brushed at the sand and dye on his chest.

BeachHead gave an evil grin. "Sure. In fact.. since you're obviously full of energy even late at night when you should be sleeping.. you can have some of my brand of fun.. I expect to see you at 0430 tomorrow morning. We'll go on a nice morning run together, and we'll chat about what sort of fun you're allowed to have."

Dusty groaned but nodded. "Yes sergeant major." He trotted away before he could get into any more trouble, pointedly not looking at either of the women standing with the group.

Beach looked at the group himself, studying them carefully. "Today you'll be starting hand-to-hand in advanced. So far you've been pretty good at passing the grade on weapons and physical training. Now we'll start really weeding out who doesn't belong. Steen here got the only break to show him what he needs to do. The rest of you need to just learn from his example."

"Yes sergeant major!"

He nodded at the crisp reply. "Good. First squad.. GO!" He watched them leap into action, racing across the course and then turned his back to head to the finish, watching them moving through the obstacles as he trotted along.

Steen watched him trotting easily along the course, knowing how much the man had already done for the day.. how many miles he'd run, and he still seemed fresh and ready to put out more. The sergeant major was human too, and if he could do that, then Steen was gonna show him that he could do it too. He was never going to feel helpless to save a man just because he was too exhausted to drag him to safety, not if he could help it.

* * * *

The group of nine recruits stood in front of the smaller gym entrance. The hand lettered sign above the door read "Dojo" with a smaller messy paper taped in place on the door itself reading 'ninjas welcome - others enter at yur own risk'.

The remaining Army guy took a deep breath. "Soo we're all gonna go in now?"

They all nodded, huddled together like children at that one scary house on halloween, all wanting to go on, and none wanting to be the first. But no one reached to open the wide door. Finally Uban gave a soft laugh.

"He can't really be that bad.. like you said.. probably some half-weight sergeant who knows karate." Despite that, they all seemed nervous as Uban opened the door and walked in. They all followed and sighed in relief as they only saw one slender red-headed woman standing on the mats in work-out gear. She looked harmless enough.

"Come in.. drop your gear next to the wall. Line up.." Her sharp tone made them all jump to obey. "Your instructor has been delayed. He and I will share instructor duties, depending on which of us are on base at any given time." Steen gazed appreciably at her as she spoke. Every line of her body was smooth and toned. When she moved, it was with a dangerously contained economy of energy. When she faced him directly, he blinked. "You're Steen, right?" He nodded mutely. "A pacifist?"

"Yes.. ahh..." He stalled out, she wore no rank insignia.

"Sergeant Scarlett." She supplied the rank with a hint of a smile for his awkwardness.

"Yes Sergeant." He was looked over carefully.

She seemed to be considering something, then nodded to herself. "I'll start you off learning how to fall without hurting yourself. That's completely non-offensive, so it's okay, right?" He heard a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Hope you don't mind getting tossed around a bit."

"No sergeant." He knew she would hear the resignation in his voice, but if she was going to go ahead and beat him up, he might as well show his own disdain for the idea.

She twisted on her heel to face the rest of the class. "So.. which of the real trainees is first? How about you.. " She paused as she matched face with name. "Evan. Step out here."

After nearly half an hour of watching her going through the recruits methodically one by one, sparring with them to find out just how advanced they really were, Steen was startled by the sudden appearance of a tall black clothed figure standing right next to him.

"Whoa!" He jumped and backed up from the man. His face was covered by a cloth mask and visor, also in black, for the sheer intimidation factor he was sure. "Sorry.. didn't see you walk up."

He was given a slow nod. To his surprise, this stranger signed to him using ASL.

*Are you S.t.e.e.n.?* His name was carefully fingerspelled out.

He nodded and tried to sign back. He distinctly heard the frustrated sigh, soft though it was.

*I am not d.e.a.f.*

"Oh.. sorry.. I.. uhh.. Yes, I'm Steen." The stranger nodded at him. "Are you a new recruit too?"

He was given a headshake and then the man walked onto the mat, and Steen got a chill. This guy had to be the scary commando in charge. No harmless person moved like that. Sure enough, he got to the center of the mat and began to sign. Scarlett stepped aside and translated for him in case anyone didn't understand.

*My name is SnakeEyes, I will be your instructor if you are advanced enough. Is there a volunteer for the first sparring session?*

Two of the SEALs stepped up and he motioned for the first one to come onto the mat. Scarlett stepped off and then spoke up. "Whatever form you like, do your best."

Steen watched the match, certain it was going to end poorly. Evan was a beefy well-trained SEAL who'd shown himself to be a bit of a bully. Sparring with the slender redhead hadn't seemed to slow him up that much, although Steen suspected she wasn't really trying to defeat anyone, but taking stock of their abilities instead. The masked commando was much lighter in build, but somehow watching him move when he settled into a casual looking crouch, there wasn't any doubt in his mind as to who the dangerous man was on the mat.

The SEAL grinned and feinted a few times. The commando didn't respond at all, even when he circled to one side a bit, he stayed put, perfectly relaxed and waiting. Evan lunged forward, aiming a punch for the man's head, his other hand headed palm-first for a chest blow. SnakeEyes leaned. Both strikes missed entirely somehow. Steen blinked. The commando had simply leaned.. and Evan was sprawling on the floor, having continued the lunge, completely confident that he'd land one of the two punches.

Scrambling to his feet, Evan snarled at his opponent who still crouched in the same spot. This time the rush stopped short and Evan's leg flew up in a precise strike at SnakeEyes head, flying over it as the man deepened his crouch with such ease that Steen wasn't certain the whole thing wasn't a put-on. Evan was more ready this time, and threw a series of punches as he whirled around from the kick. The masked commando deflected two, backed up half a step from the next one, slipped sideways from the last and then stepped up to strike back in his first offensive move. It slipped past the raised forearm attempting to block him to smack Evan just over his right ear, dropping him to the mat.

Evan came up and shook his head. The slight disorientation was merely a feint and he made a sudden attack, punching and kicking so quickly that Steen backed up a step at the ferocious lunge. He got the feeling that Evan had been holding back to lull the instructor into complacency, and was equally certain that the instructor hadn't been fooled for a second. Not one blow was landing, instead each was deflected or ducked or dodged easily. When Evan faltered, his attack failing badly, SnakeEyes suddenly moved on him, slipping around to the side, while weaving between blows. Two kicks to the ribs, one to the thigh, and then one black-clad arm slipped around, a foot somehow hooked a knee and Evan dropped to the mat, pinned helplessly.

"Enough.. " His gasping voice sounded strained, and with his neck at the angle it was, Steen was surprised he could get anything out at all.

SnakeEyes unwound himself as quickly as he'd put the hold onto him and was standing casually as the SEAL clambered to his feet, breathing hard. The commando signed fluidly. *Not bad. You will stay in the advanced class.*

He motioned to the next, and Steen watched him go through nearly the same routine with each recruit. Only the first SEAL and Uban were pronounced good enough to stay in advanced. Finnegin was barely passing, and everyone else was given no particular comment. When that hidden gaze fastened on him, Steen gulped. He was motioned onto the mat and he went, albeit unwillingly.

"I'm a p-pacifist.. I won't fight you."

SnakeEyes tilted his head and then lunged at him, striking out with a flattened palm. Steen jerked away but was struck anyway, a sharp pain in his ribcage where it landed. A knee impacted into his chest next, knocking him backwards, another punch into his upper thigh and he collapsed. Instead of hitting the mat, he felt his shirt grabbed and held, and opened his clenched-shut eyes, lowering his arms from his face to find himself held only inches off the mat. SnakeEyes lifted him back onto his feet and turned him loose.

*You really are a pacifist* The commando seemed a little surprised that he hadn't made a single move to defend himself.

He nodded, hoping he hadn't just wet his pants. It was rather like being toyed with by a large cat. He just hoped he wouldn't be killed too messily.

*I will think about what you can learn.* A soft sigh reached the medic's ears as the sheer frustration of trying to teach a total pacifist to stay safe in the middle of a fight occurred to the hand-to-hand instructor.

Steen nodded to that as well, wishing he wasn't quite as much trouble as he was obviously turning out to be. SnakeEyes tilted his head slightly.

*Scarlett will teach you how to fall without breaking anything major. Learn that first.* He was motioned off the mat, and went gratefully, holding one hand over his ribs. He wasn't too beaten up, considering how hard everyone else had been hit, he suspected that he'd been merely smacked and tossed around. With three blows, he'd been completely disoriented and gone down. Somehow it seemed so much easier watching other people take hits and still fight. Uban was pummeled unmercifully, tossed to the side and landed, popped up and continued without much pause. He began to watch to see how they dealt with taking a punch or kick, and how they fell to avoid injury. If he had to come be beaten up each day, at least he could learn to dodge and duck better.

Scarlett came up to him while he was watching. "Having second thoughts about that whole pacifist thing?"

He shook his head while still keeping his gaze on the two currently on the mat. SnakeEyes was gliding circles around the SEAL, somehow avoiding every strike and kick, while dealing out blows with ease.

"No, of course not. I was watching to see how they keep from being hit. I don't want to hit anyone.. but I wouldn't mind knowing how Sergeant SnakeEyes dodges so well. Is that something I could learn? Without the punching and kicking parts?"

She laughed, a genuine hearty laugh that sounded more like she was laughing with him, sharing a joke, rather than laughing at him and making fun. "Yes.. sure. All you need is a decade to spend learning to be a ninja master, and the natural ability to be the best commando ever seen in the world. Once you have that, you're in like Flynn."

He grinned at her. "Okay.. how about just learning how to fall down without breaking my own neck?"

"That I believe I can help you with." And she did. Scarlett told him what to do, then helpfully threw him to the floor, where he either hit with a loud thud, or sprawled like a discarded rag. He fell down so many times that he was certain the mats were going to have a permanent Steen imprint. Finally he just stayed down there, panting and dizzy. Scarlett's face leaned over him. "Had enough for today?"

"Yes sergeant."

She offered him a hand up, and he half expected her to toss him down again. The instructors all seemed fond of putting them at ease only to yank the rug out from under them again just to prove a point.

"Alright. SnakeEyes has said he has a few ideas for you. I'm certain he'll go over them with you at some point. Until we find out what he has planned, you'll just learn to fall correctly, and then how to fall so you can get away, rather than just lie there and get stepped on. A squashed medic won't be any use to us."

He nodded, and then faced SnakeEyes in the center of the mat with the rest of the recruits. They all gave him a slight bow, and he left, stalking out with that same grace and power that announced who the alpha dog was in the room.

Scarlett's amused voice caught their attention. "Okay, so that was your advanced instructor. Any of you that wish to learn ASL that don't already know it, please see me or Stalker at some point. We'll arrange time for you to learn. SnakeEyes will sign or write notes or just kick you in the head until you figure out what he wants.. just to let you know. He doesn't talk, but he has the sharpest ears in the Pit, so believe me, you don't want to talk about him, unless it's something you don't mind him hearing. Any questions?"

Finnegin raised her hand and was nodded at. "Will we ever get that good?"

Scarlett gave a sardonic grin. "No. You won't. Any other questions?"

Steen hesitated but raised his hand. Scarlett nodded at him. "Why does he go masked?"

She took a deep breath. "He has severe facial scarring. It's common knowledge in the Pit. It's also not particularly something anyone has any burning need to discuss. Understood?"

They all agreed. Then Evan spoke up. "Is it true what they say about him.. being.. a you know.. ninja?"

Steen snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He composed his face to a bland non-expression immediately. Scarlett had reacquired the sardonic grin.

"Yes. He's a master ninja. We also have a ninja apprentice, just so you're aware. There's almost always at least one ninja on base, sneaking around and dropping behind you at random for the fun of terrifying you out of your wits. Don't worry though, they almost never stick any sharp objects into friendlies."

Steen swallowed a few times dryly, pretty sure that she was mostly joking. He hoped so anyway. Bad enough to see the 'ninja' right in front of them on the practice mat, it was another deal entirely to be told there were two roaming around at any given time.

"If that is all, you're dismissed." She watched the group leave, making them feel like they'd been evaluated and found wanting.

They all filed out, murmuring among themselves. About half of them were limping, himself included.

"Hey Steen.." He turned to Finnegin. "Steen, we're headed to weapons training. See you at dinner?" He smiled and nodded. "Good thing you're headed to the infirmary anyway, you look like you need a trip there!"

He gave a rueful laugh. "Yeah.. I think I do. Getting thrown around, even by a beautiful woman, isn't my idea of a good time." He rubbed his elbow, he seemed to have an affinity for landing on it, no matter how many times he'd been corrected by the tall redhead.

She shook a finger at him in a mock warning. "Well, if you won't fight back, there'll be bound to be ladies perfectly willing to take advantage of you. Better watch yourself!" He knew he blushed and cursed himself for doing it. She merely laughed at his embarrassment and walked the opposite direction. Her self-confidant stride made him feel totally inadequate. He was absolutely certain that every woman on earth had instructions to make him feel like a small child unable to brush his own teeth, much less have a coherent conversation with the opposite sex. Other guys probably never felt that way, it was just him. He'd go to the medical section, where he knew what he was doing.

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END Chapter.

Well, that was Steen's new obstacle course. He won't have to rescue live victims every time, but it certainly seemed to bring home to him how HIS failings will cause other people to suffer and possibly die.

They also all finally got to set eyes on the scary ninja.. really? A ninja? Naw... ninja's aren't real.. it's just a scary commando.. yeah.. yeah. They'll keep telling themselves that for now

I hope you're continuing to enjoy this!