Chapter 7
Ahhhh yes.. I'm rewriting the fic. It's too good of a storyline to trash the entire thing, so thank you for all the words of encouragement. There's still a few scenes I'm REALLY unhappy with, since the rewrite just plain is sucking. The rest, some of it might be better, some is just as good, so I shouldn't complain.
Lifeline's canon martial art is termed Aikido(in the comics), which is described(in the comic) as a completely defensive fighting style, without offensive moves. This is what he will learn, albeit, unknowingly, since he's DETERMINED to not learn a fighting style or martial art. Lucky for HIM, SnakeEyes is not only a very good instructor and master martial artist.. he's also SNEAKY!
Since Steen is obviously used to getting beaten up, the attack on him won't seem that unusual to him. So it won't be a spur for him to learn a martial art. He hasn't bothered to defend himself previous to this, so he wouldn't suddenly want to here either. Thus, the sneaky ninja instructing.. yessss...
TinySprite pointed out a VERY good point with a review about the phrasing in a certain part of the fight. It was very vague, and actually seemed to say that Steen was doing the fighting, so I'm going back to tweak that. THANK YOU to TinySprite for catching that for me! Kudos!!!
Insert a boring disclaimer here about me not owning the Joes, not making money, etc etc, please don't sue.
Now.. please enjoy! I'll be working again after the holiday, so don't get TOO spoiled with the fast updates! Reviews do make me very happy, especially detailed reviews about what worked best, or what didn't work, or what you'd like to see.
* * * *
The obstacle course had gotten to be the day's entertainment anytime Steen was put on the spot for live action rescues. It seemed inevitable that many of the Joes would show up to watch.
Dusty was a frequent 'volunteer'. Steen thanked him one morning early as he was walking out to find a spot to lie on the course. That's when he found out that BeachHead was known for snapping up people at random when he needed a warm body. Dusty's imitation of BeachHead's southern drawl snapping out 'Dusty, yer just been voluntold for victim duty.. git yerself out on-a course, NOW!' made all of them laugh loudly, until someone noticed Beach standing behind the group. The resulting miles of running and hours of PT made two of them throw up, and all of them regret laughing, although Dusty seemed to take it rather well, even after he ran the course four times, then had to play victim anyway.
The guys in the barracks were all awakened at an ungodly hour once by shrieking outside. They all barreled out the door to find BeachHead bodily dragging Dusty around the building and off into the night. The good-natured desert trooper was absent for a few days, finally showing up sheepishly limping with a black eye claiming to have met a door. When Steen narrowed his eyes and questioned him again, he repeated his claim, expanding it to include 'meeting a large alabama-made door that hits like a truck'. He didn't seem too discouraged nevertheless.
The longer they stuck around, the more of the experienced full Joe team members they met. As far as Steen himself, people seemed split fifty-fifty, between those fascinated by his avowed pacifism and appalled that he was even considered.
Uban and Finnegin seemed to have decided he was okay, and tended to hang out with him whenever they had extra time. Evan on the other hand became more disdainful of him with each passing day. Steen was fairly certain it was less that Evan didn't like him, and more that Evan was trying to build friendships with other Joes that might not like the pacifist all that much. The fact that both females preferred to spend their time with the slender self-effacing medic rather than him caused a real sense of antagonism.
They arrived for dinner in the messhall and found the place packed. Uban tossed her braid over her back and looked around. "Wow.. what's the special occasion?"
Warrant officer Flint was in line just in front of them and turned to grin at her. "Lasagna night.. made by Roadblock! No one wants to miss out on this!"
Steen blinked. "Roadblock? Isn't he that huge scary black guy who carries a gun bigger than me?" Flint nodded, still grinning at him. "Okay.. as long as it's edible.. I don't even care right now. I'm so tired.. I might need to get Finnegin to pre-chew my food for me."
The women both rolled their eyes. Finnegin grabbed him in a headlock and rubbed her fist on his hair hard. "OW ow ow ow ow!" He pushed her arm off his head and stood up, adjusting his glasses. "Stop picking on me." He made a face at her. "Big bully."
She smirked at him and reached to pinch his cheek instead. "I can't help it, you're so cute when you get all annoyed." She suddenly gave him a nudge. "Look.. BeachHead is already seated over there with Duke.. should we try to sit nearby and eavesdrop?"
Uban frowned. "Eavesdropping is rude and wrong. Besides, Sergeant major has eyes in the back of his head, he's not gonna drop any hints where we can hear." She twisted around looking across the crowded room. "Let's sit over on that side."
Steen was focusing more on the really nice smelling food he could almost see. He stepped forward a little bit then glanced over in the direction she was pointing. "Oh Uban.. you really must not like Dusty.. you keep getting him into trouble. If BeachHead sees you sitting over next to that poor guy, he's gonna run him until he can't stand up anymore."
Uban gave him a naughty smile. "Well, he hasn't had any problems 'standing up' yet.. and besides.. he can always be a more accurate victim for you to rescue once Sergeant major breaks one of his legs for real." Her face turned to him and she gave him a wink. "Just trying to help you out, Steen.. see?"
"Oh yeah.. thanks. That's just grand. I'll have to patch him up for real, then carry him around the course, and then deal with the extra guilt for you getting his legs broken, all for me to have a more realistic victim." He hummed to himself. Now he could see the trays of food and perked up. It smelled and looked very tasty. "Dinner.. I wasn't hungry until I smelled it.. now I'm starving."
Once he got his platter and a seat, he tasted the first bite and was surprised at how good it was. He resolved to make certain he ate dinner anytime he heard about Roadblock cooking. By the time he'd nearly finished the meal, he was falling asleep in his seat.
"Steen... Steen... Steen! Hey!" He was shaken slightly and sat up suddenly. "You're about to go face-first into your plate." He looked up into Finnegin's concerned face. "Go sack out dude."
He nodded and started to get to his feet and was shoved back down by a heavy hand on one shoulder. Evan leaned over him. "Aww.. sleepy medic? Getting too much for you?"
Finnegin snorted at him. "If you're not tired Evan, I'm sure Sergeant major would like to know he's not working you hard enough. Maybe if you put out more effort, you'd be as tired as Steen." The medic sighed and got up to move between the two recruits. "Come on Steen.. you might not wanna hit him.. but I wouldn't mind."
He shook his head. "No one needs to be hit. It's nothing. Evan was just joking, and hitting teammates is counterproductive. Starting a fight in the messhall when every officer in GI Joe is present for the great lasagna is downright stupid." He very adroitly managed to get both of them to glare at him. "I'm headed for the showers and a warm bunk. You two feel free to make fools of yourselves while I'm gone though." He walked away, feeling a few sets of eyes on him. As long as he'd deflected the squabble, he wasn't overly concerned.
The showers were nearly deserted with everyone possible in the messhall. Normally he'd use the showers at ground level, but the men's showers suddenly only gave out cold water. They were given permission to use the showers down in the Pit, which while inconvenient, was preferable to taking a freezing shower close to the barracks. Half asleep in the hot water, he was surprised suddenly when someone came out of the back shower. Then he gasped involuntarily.
"S-sorry.." He didn't want to stare at the scarred face, but he'd never come across anyone with as much damage and not disabled in some fashion. "I didn't t-t-think anyone was here."
It wasn't until the man signed casually at him that he realized who it was.
*Sorry, I try not to be here when there are new people.* The commando plucked up a mask from a pile of clothing and tugged it on. He finished toweling himself off before dressing in sweats and teeshirt. Steen tried not to think about how many scars covered his body as well. Either he'd been fighting for a long long time, or he'd gotten them in only a few very nasty conflicts, which was scary.
"It's okay.. you just startled me." He took a deeper breath. At least he was awake now.
*I'm a ninja.. we do that.* With that parting shot, SnakeEyes strode out, the same cat-like grace evident in a casual setting as in the dojo.
"Yeah.. ninjas.. good lord.. what have I gotten into?" He finished showering and left quickly. Settling into his bunk, he rolled into the blanket and was asleep in seconds.
* * * *
Uban and Steen were busy repairing packs. The obstacle course was rough on the strapping and Steen had multiple small rips in the fabric since he was nearly incapable of crawling under the razor wire without hanging up on it somewhere. Finnegin had begun called him BeachHead's favorite chew toy, since the sergeant had to go fetch him from under the razor wire so often. It was humiliating every time, since BeachHead cursed him out the entire time, and often dragged him bodily out from underneath and tossed him to his feet as if he were a helpless kitten. At this point, he preferred when there was a mudpit under the wire, as it gave him enough extra clearance that he could make it without accidentally catching himself on the wire overhead. He ate a lot of mud, but it was better than being hauled out and yelled at.
Uban was busily reattaching a strap that had gotten loose on her own pack. They worked together in near silence in the waning afternoon. His companion had settled into her own routine, which included various repairs and studying books on tactics in her free time.
"Private Uban." The low mellow voice carried easily into the nearly empty rec room they occupied. Both of them looked up to see the team sniper LowLight looking in. "There you are." He wiped his combat boots carefully before he walked in.
"Sergeant!" Before they could stand, he waved them down. "Yes, sergeant?"
"Uban, I got you approved for sniper program, you're a provisional sniper as your secondary MOS. I run the range twice a week when I'm on base. BeachHead will have your new schedule tomorrow." LowLight's reddish goggles hid his expression almost as well as BeachHead's mask. He turned the eerie gaze on the medic. "Steen. You changed your mind about shooting yet?"
"No sergeant." He shook his head firmly and watched LowLight lose interest in his existence entirely. He turned back to Uban instead, motioning her to follow him out. She put her pack and repairs aside and jumped up to leave, giving him a apologetic shrug. "See you later." He smiled to let her know he wasn't offended. He really wasn't. They were all still trainees and subject to the whims of the instructors. While she was gone, he'd go ahead and finish her repairs on her pack as well, just in case she was delayed overmuch. It would only take him a few extra minutes but help her out a great deal. That's what teamwork was he supposed.
He looked at the empty doorway. He probably should take offense at his dismissal by LowLight, but having seen him interacting with the rest of the team, it wasn't him, it was the sniper. He didn't seem to be a social sort. In fact, he was rarely seen other than on the rifle range or during the night. The full Joes were a really odd assortment, he supposed. Steen wondered sometimes if it was even possible for him to fit in with such a strange group at all.
* * * *
Everyone was getting a standard physical, all six of the remaining recruits. Steen was being given a thorough checkup, expecting to pass easily despite the appalling amount of bruises and minor cuts that he somehow acquired over the week. Most of the time, he couldn't remember getting them, and if they were minor enough that he didn't notice, he began to ignore them like everyone else.
He'd blushed and looked aside while waiting in nothing but shorts when Uban strutted past in her own underwear. She gave him a smirk, obviously just as comfortable in her skin as fully covered with BDUs. Of course, she had nothing to be ashamed of, being a sleek beautiful toned woman, not a skinny half-weight like himself.
Doc stepped out with his clipboard and used it to point at him. "Steen.. you're next.." He walked in, trying not to shiver at the constant chill in the air. "Having fun being on the other side of the coin in Medical? Another week or so, and you might be giving the exams, instead of taking them."
"Not really sir.. never did like these." He looked at the floor and was motioned up onto the scale. "HOW MUCH??"
"One hundred sixty-two pounds... not bad." Doc marked his weight on the chart. "What's wrong?"
"I've NEVER weighed this much! I'm exercising constantly!" Steen poked the weights on the scale and redid them. "Are you sure this scale is accurate?"
"Of course I'm sure. Steen.. don't be an idiot. You're putting on a lot of muscle, you know that." Doc rolled his eyes at the astounded expression on his medic's face. "Muscle weighs more than fat.. all that standard medical facts that you already know and have no doubt already told other patients? I'd like to see you gain a few pounds still, besides more muscle which I'm sure will please BeachHead." He motioned him off the scale. "How's this one bruise doing?" Doc poked at the palm sized lump on his thigh. "Where'd you even get that?"
"I fell on Sergeant Scarlett's boot." Steen rubbed the spot. "She said that I'm improving on my 'limp sack of potatoes falling down ability'. It's really hard to do anything other than fly through the air when she throws me so easily."
Doc grinned widely. "Yes.. you'll get that from our hand-to-hand instructors. Is SnakeEyes participating in the Medic Tossing competition?" Steen grinned and shook his head. "No? I'm surprised, he's usually pretty on the ball with new recruits. But I haven't seen him around in the last few days.. maybe he's on a mission. They keep him pretty busy."
Steen thought about his daily routine. "You know.. Sergeant Scarlett has been doing all the instruction.. with.. umm... hmm.. Sergeant Stalker.. and I think.. maybe.. I saw the other ninja once, but she didn't stay."
His superior shook his head. "That would be Jinx. She's not supposed to do instruction on anyone, not even raw recruits. Later in advanced hand-to-hand, she is allowed to be a sparring partner for the best ones, if.. IF SnakeEyes lets her. According to him she's progressing but has some issues in knowing how to instruct rather than fight. It seems that ninja training is done differently than our regular hand-to-hand. Considering how good she is in any battle she's been in, I can't see anyone objecting."
Steen gave him a startled look. "She goes into battle? But.. but she's so tiny?" He sighed. "I know.. she's a small package of deadly abilities. I still can't believe they are really supposed to be ninjas." He watched the amusement cross the other man's face. "Come on.. it's kind of bizarre to claim ninjas.. what's next? Pirates?"
"Do you want to meet some pirates? I'm certain Shipwreck might qualify as a pirate to some people.. he even has a parrot. If he keeps hitting on LadyJaye and Scarlett, he'll probably need an eyepatch too."
Steen shook his head. "If Dusty doesn't stop trying to sneak in to see Uban, he'll need a week to recover from BeachHead kicking him in unmentionable parts."
"Ahhh yes.. so far I've treated him for two minor concussions and a slightly twisted knee that he got trying to avoid getting caught." Doc sighed. "Usually it's Clutch and Shipwreck, this time it's Dusty. You just sort of get used to certain things happening." He looked at the more slender younger man, obviously thinking something over. "There are a lot of.. hmm.. non-regulation things that might happen here. Some of it is ignored by everyone, and you'll have to learn which discretionary procedures to practice."
Steen was staring at him. "You're acting like I'm going to make it. Do you know something I don't?"
Doc just grinned widely at him, his good humor evident in every feature of his ebony face. "I know a LOT of things that you don't... including some things that pertain to your currant status. Just keep doing as well as you are now.. okay? And don't.. no matter what happens... don't screw up."
Grinning back at him, Steen felt just a little bit of relief. He had a very good chance, and as long as he didn't do something wrong in the next couple of weeks, he'd get to be a GI Joe. He just had to avoid making his insane sergeant major angry at him, avoid falling on his face too often during PT training, avoid not falling properly on his face during his modified combat training, and worst of all, avoid getting caught in any crossfire with his fellow trainees.
"Thanks. Am I done here? I have to make it to my daily Medic-Tossing event."
Doc nodded at him, already closing his file when there was a loud commotion outside the room. "Get dressed.. I have to go see what's up.." Doc was already partially out the door before he finished speaking. Steen darted out, headed to grab his clothing when a sharp cry sounded from the triage. Unable to ignore a obvious cry of pain, he snatched up the bundle of clothing and trotted out to the area. What he found made him drop the clothing to the side and grab for gloves to help.
There were three Joes being brought in, all bleeding, and two yelling loudly in pain. Steen took over the second one, with Doc already directing the interns over the noise.
"Stretcher get Breaker into bay four.. calm down Breaker.. you're okay!"
The stocky communications expert grabbed at Doc. "Don't mind me.. get Snakes.. " He was effectively pushing away the helping hands from the burned and torn material of his pants. "I'm okay.."
Doc finally grabbed his wrists and leaned over his face. "Listen to me.. listen.. you're not okay, let me look and see what you need.. you're delaying everyone else getting treated.. lie still." Breaker lay back, his injured leg jiggling badly. "There.. Stretcher.. clean this up, get full vitals, check him for any other injuries.." The dark skinned physician moved easily to the next man. "Hey Clutch.. whacha got for me?"
"I got shot.. they shot me Doc.." Clutch seemed eerily calm. "I think it's not bad, just hurts a bunch, Breaker got all the bleeding to quit, before we blew up and all.. Snakes is the one bad off. He got hit three times by small arms fire.. before we blew up.. man.. Wild Bill is gonna be so mad.. we blew up his favorite Tomahawk.."
Doc gave him a pat. "He'll understand, and Duke will probably order him up a brand new one. You aren't hit bad.. Drew.. take him to join Breaker in bay four, tell Stretcher to check him over fully next."
Steen had already been cutting away black cloth, surprised at how tough the material turned out to be. He pulled loose two pressure bandages, replacing them with large fresh ones. "You'll be fine.. gonna take good care of you.." To his surprise the uninjured arm raised and signed at him. "I'm sorry.. can you repeat that?" One handed signs were harder to follow for him still.
*Just patch me up, I'm fine. Just got shot.*
Steen stared at him in disbelief. "You've been shot twice, and you have gashes with metal shrapnel embedded in them.. you're not fine."
SnakeEyes lifted his head slightly and pointed at his lower ribs. *Shot three times..* Steen looked at the spot, finding a entrance wound. *Small handgun.. not bad.*
"Not bad? You're crazy! There's no exit wound.. so the bullet's inside you somewhere.." He pressed fingers across the taut abdomen, searching out rigid spots or swelling. "Doc!?" When the taller man appeared, Steen showed him the third wound. "Two gunshot wounds, through and through, one on the outer thigh, one just inside the shoulder joint, one embedded gunshot in his lower ribs.. bullet is somewhere inside. Belly is relaxed, no sign of internal bleeding.. do you want me to do a lavage to check?"
Doc gave the patient a once-over quickly as Steen finished stripping off clothing and then the mask. "Start an iv, run a CBC.." He grabbed up a set of large hemostats. "Hold still SnakeEyes.." Steen gaped as he inserted the forceps deep into the wound in his patient's side. "Yep.. it's right there.. hang tight.." Doc probed about slightly while the commando gripped onto the edges of the gurney. "Got it.." He drew the instrument back out slowly and held up the small lump of metal. "Okay.. it was in the muscle still, you're lucky.. once again." Doc glanced at Steen. "IV, and CBC Steen. Now."
Steen blinked at him, then turned to grab up the angiocatheter. Inserting it into one of the large veins took only seconds, and he had the blood sample drawn and the bag of fluids attached in short order. The blood vials were labeled and sent off with a nurse to be tested quickly in their small lab.
Doc was just returning from checking on the other two injuries parties. "Breaker and Clutch will both be fine too, just some gashes to be stitched and Clutch had a bullet lodged in his shoulder. It almost made it all the way through, so I just cut it out from the back, he'll wake up sore and grumpy. Breaker still needs to be stitched up. Steen, how about you show me how well you can work on that sort of wound?"
The medic was still staring at the commando laying on the table. "But... but.. shouldn't.."
Doc patted him. "You go work on Breaker's leg, and I'll finish bandaging and checking on SnakeEyes, he'll be trying to get off the table in another few minutes, and I don't think you want to be the one trying to restrain him." He suddenly smiled at the stunned medic. "You should get dressed first.."
Steen looked down and then turned beet red. "S-s-sorry sir.." He stripped the gloves off and found his clothing. He'd JUST been told not to screw up, and here he was, trying pathetically to treat gunshot wounds in nothing but his boxers and sterile gloves. He was lucky Doc hadn't just told him to pack it up and leave. Once BeachHead found out, he was toast. Until then.. he had a patient to treat though..
* * * *
End Chapter:
Strip show and medical treatment at the same time, what more could a Joe ask for? Well.. maybe for the strip show to be Uban, instead of Steen.. but.. well. Yeah, not much more to say about that.
Dusty is just an enthusiastic guy about these new gals, isn't he? Just have to love young guys with more hormones than good sense.
Steen is about to get a lot more introduction to 'how to treat a typical ninja in the medical wards'. He's also about to get a surprise. I'm very glad that everyone seems to be enjoying the fic.
