Title: Home Rule - Chapter 9

Author: roomtable202

Fandom: The Unit

Disclaimer: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

Note: This story was originally posted "in-progress" last August 2008. Unfortunately, I had to interrupt the publishing after a few chapters for personal reasons. I am re-posting it in order to complete it.


The cabin was located near the top of a mountain in an especially remote area of Texas. It was small; there were only three rooms, including a small bathroom. The kitchen and living room were separated only by a round wooden table. Mack's father was nowhere to be seen and Grey and Mack shared the only beer they found in the fridge to accompany some canned tomato beans before preparing the main room's double sofa-bed for the night.

In the small hours of the next morning, Grey bolted up in bed. Sweat beading on his forehead, pain radiating from his chest and gasped in agony.

"Carlito?" Mack's voice came over from the other side of the double bed.

Grey looked over, clutching his chest, gasping for breath, pain increasing.

"Carlito? A flashback?" Mack said worriedly, seeing his mate in pain. Grey gasped faster, trying to take in oxygen.

He managed to nod. Mack could see the fear in his mate's eyes. Rushing to his side, Mack placed his two hands in Grey's shoulders, whispering "Slowly. Breathe, slowly."

"Can't... breathe... No..." He managed to rasp out. His lungs screamed and his heartbeat resounded in his head. He needed breathing, needed air, but he couldn't move. Grey wheezed out before falling back to the mattress, eyes wide, feeling his body limp and drained, heart pounding so strongly now that created its own pain chest. His lungs screamed for air, finding it more and more difficult to draw breath, his head throbbing painfully.

Mack took him by his wrists, Grey still clutching tight at his chest, and sat him upright again. "Don't panic. Just breathe. You're OK. Breathe. We're in Texas now, remember? At my father's." After long seconds, he started swallowing his much needed air in big avid gulps, his chest heaved with quick, rasping breaths.

"Breathe nice and smooth... You're hyperventilating. You are gonna pass out. In and out. With me. In... and out. In.... and out." Mack soothed him in a whisper.

"Man... I am... not... giving birth here..." Grey wheezed with the effort.

"See? That's an image I didn't need", Mack snorted quietly. Carlito responded with the shadow of a smile in his hard lined face and half a chuckle, deeply grateful at Mack's trying to diffuse his embarrassment with this moment of levity.

It still took him another minute or two, but finally Grey's ragged breathing subsided and started to synchronize his own breathing with Mack's, which was what Mack had been expecting him to do, keeping his inhales and exhales as even as possible. Gradually, Mack loosened his hold, as part of Grey's former angst faded and signs of relief washed over his frayed nerves.

"Man, you scared me! I thought I should be giving you the kiss of life. I could never look at you the same way again at the showers. My manhood compromised for the rest of my career." Mack said lightly. "You OK, now?

He allowed his pupils to flit around the room. "Will be... A sec..." Charles said in a rasping whisper. Heart thudding, he swallowed, subconsciously trying to swallow his fear, and allowed his mind to absorb his surroundings once more.

Dark, cold, wood room. Not Beirut.

His face flushed with shame at the outburst, at the absolute fear that had overcome his normally collected self. "Sorry, man…" he muttered.

"I know what it is. It is this enclosed space and this strong lingering smell from hunting. Help me get the mattress out. We will sleep much better on the porch, with some fresh air. What do you say?"

Grey nodded, still dazzled, small white spots dancing in his eyes, his throat dry and just raised his hand as a go sign.


The sun had yet to rise when Mack woke Charles, nudging him gently against his side as he spoke. "Do you come for a short cross country? Let's go hunting something for lunch. We need protein and I'll show you around. You'll see by yourself. Some incredible spots. These mountains are something special. You'll love them."

"Rise and shine."

"Want me to get rid of those stitches of yours before we leave? They're too dry to be good."

"I can do it."

"Me too, chicken little. It'll be fun. I'll bet 10 bucks there I'll get some tears in your eyes with those in the right side of your nose."

"There will be tears in your face for sure if you make me hurt in the slightest, pale face. Just remember what happened to Mexican Florence Nightingale."

"Let's go before dad comes around or he will drag us down."

"Can we wait some?"

"Sure. Pain kicking in again?"

"Live and in colours. It'll pass in a short while, I just need some time to make contact with myself."

"I'll go and fetch the med kit and bring it here then. We can prepare some breakfast when we are finished and we make a more slow start. You didn't buy anything for the pain, huh? I've got nothing on my bag right now. Will see what my father has got."

"Don't need anything. I'm Ok. It's just while those first moments when waking up. I'll warm up a bit and I'll be fine. Let's get the mattress back in first, just in case your dad comes around.

"He won't yet. Not so early. Most possibly he won't be back until this evening. I saw his truck while we crossed the city. I know where he is. Don't worry. Let's take care of those stitches and make some coffee first. House cleaning later. Come on in."


It was cold, damp, bone-chilling cold in those early hours of the morning. Heavy banks of fog had swallowing the tops of the tallest trees, when they left a while afterwards. It had mostly started raining, and water dripped from pine needles and clung to grass blades. The grass was deep and thick, and Charlie's pants were soon soaked from the knee down. But any of that had deterred them to keep on mounting over the top where Mack had promised he would find the eight wonder of the world, one that only a few chosen could claim to have seen.

The mud had built up around their shoes. It was heavy going up. His legs were burning. Physically it was a wrecking journey, but Grey felt good, somehow grateful to get in touch again with earth. As he walked he tried to work out what had happened during those last days. He knew he needed a fallback plan but couldn't come with any; he felt like he was blindly to nowhere. He was pretty sure too that Mack was keeping him blindfolded about some new chapter on this wreck of a life of his he was living on lately, Mack's tranquil mood always preceding the perfect storm when getting into combat.

Charles Grey wasn't a man to wait for anything, so he acted. He stopped all of a sudden climbing up the mountain and abruptly faced Mack. He asked him straight for all the answers he needed just then. When Mack finished telling him short and blunt about the last developments at the TOC, there Grey finally was in total confusion and he couldn't make sense of it. What of himself took their mates to think so low of him? Why they actually came to the easiest explanation without granting him the benefit of a higher goal than buying some fix? When he did get back to the Unit, what sort of reception could he expect? In those very first seconds of realisation, in his mind, he started running around like the cornered rat that he felt he was, trying to find a way out. Had he to get up that mountain again, once more having to justify his actions to strangers that didn't know anything about him? Did he have to retrace his steps to all of them to find the path to a place and to a people that seemed wouldn't be his anymore?

Mack just stood by his side looking at Grey's slightly trembling chin, not knowing if it was of rage, if it was a sign that he was about to crumble down right there or just a physical reaction to the cold wind, and waited for a clearer indication to intervene. It was when Grey fled running up the cliff. Running, running felt good. And he ran for the top of the peak, far away but at sight. He got out of the immediate area, left Mack behind, his chest heaved as he fought for breath, his legs already on fire. Just go for it! Just go for it! He kept telling himself. He was about to get past the top. He was elated. He felt he had cracked it. And only then he did hear Mack shouting after him to stop, that the cliff ended abruptly into a sheer drop. For a split second he was dead. He felt dead. Just the border of a deathly fall down now. At least it could be quick and in an open space, his way. Not drunk and wasted is some dirty alley, dishonourably discharged, all those he considered his family having turned his back on him. What the border crossing was like physically, at the TOC or here? Should be heavily defended or not defended at all by him?

He stopped short, too close damn short of that precipice over the valley. He looked at his feet and what he could see was a large depression on the peak's large rock base. He was assaulted by the fear of what he had almost done. The rock face was moulded like a two seat on the top of the world just a yard under and he let himself slip down there. Looking straight ahead, he could see the river that crossed the most magnificent scenery that he'd ever seen. He pressed his body against the cold rock, waiting for Mack, panting heavily, all that had to be said on Mack's part was already, Charlie had no doubt about it now. No need to dig further, from that moment it was up to himself and only to himself.

Mack had been siding by him once again during his ordeal in Tijuana, but now he couldn't tell him the truth as he knew it on this new one. The Capri had to be left out of Mack's limits for his own sake. Of all those involved in the latest events it was only Mack the one, not even Jonas or Bob, who had the right to know it all, why he did what he did in that back alley, and Mack was the only one to whom he couldn't confess it, neither ask for his forgiveness or his counsel, he couldn't ask for anything more out of him from then on. Since he had known from Mack already what the TOC had in store for him, the best he could do was to just accept his fate as it was as quietly as he could, without making waves and praying that whoever was putting the case against him will respect Mack as much as he will, as much as he tried to by his past actions, those that just now had backfired full force against him.

What has been done, has been done. What he had done, he had done willingly and he did not regret it. He had stopped the Colonel and defended the chance of Mack getting back home to his daughters and Tiffy, reaching for the goal that was within his grasp: the one and only thing that Carlito had seen Mack longing for and grieving for so deeply since they shared the apartment and their private life together.

Mack's stomach jolted when Charlie had literally run away uphill from him after he had broken the last events at the TOC to him. He knew Charlie all too well, not someone all quiet and stoic at all times, Grey being Grey, dealing with things at his own pace and time,... in the open but concealing.

In all relationships there is the possibility of a potential treason. Without trust there was no possible friendship nor intimacy, any emotional links. Mack trusted Charles. He was his brother, but much more, the closest thing to a friend he had. He just had had proof enough of that during the last weeks, not that he needed any after six years together in the unit either.

Mack respected that Charlie had decided to close off to him, not taking it as a positive confirmation of the charges that were going to be put against him. He understood Charlie was winning for himself some space and time, that he didn't want risking to fall apart even more in front of Mack than he already did in the cabin last night. So he could only hope that Charlie was using his silence to work in controlling his pain and emotions, healing, getting the better out of him,...

Mack had learnt the hard way that, contrary to the general believe, when you look at things in the dark and under pressure they can look pretty good, an illusion created for the mind to rest; but in the daytime the picture can be totally different. He only hoped that Charlie's mind would strive to get in touch with reality just then and will make the best of the information he had just given him to plan for an exit scenario good enough to keep himself in the team.

When Charlie heard Mack approaching at a rushed pace, he tried to steady his breath and let that perfect scenery under his dangling feet balm his mind enough not to weight down Mack further with his own increasing distress and he addressed him keeping a tight rein on his mounting anxiety has much as he managed to.

"It's true, Mack. That was a long time since I saw this much beauty all in a single place." He knew he couldn't fool Mack entirely about his present state of mind but counted on Mack in turning a blind eye on it for as long as Charlie needed.

"Didn't I tell you? My brother and I came here very often to escape for a while. You're sitting in his place. I had wanted to share it with you from a long time." Mack followed, keeping Carlito's lead.

"I'm sorry now not to have accepted you invitation for coming a long time ago." Grey looked at Mack's concerned face briefly while Mack just prepared himself to slip down to the naturally moulded form on the rock side by side by Grey's.

"Isn't it like a frigging throne on top of the world? Nothing else matters here." Mack profited using Carlito's shoulder to steady himself while seating by his side to squeeze it softly twice and make his silent message of reassurance and comfort arrive to his friend.

"Yes..." And Charles closed his eyes and let his physical pain drain away along with the rain drops dripping down his face, sliding down that rock face, to the silver river deep down under his feet, to be taken far away... and just relaxed and started emptying his mind too, spoonful by spoonful, down to the bottom of the valley, working to make good that old parachuting saying, if you know the landing is going to be fearsome: "Feet and knees together and accept the landing". And Charlie realized he should give it a go... If he had to pay in for it, he will give that one step ahead, striving forward, never looking back and walking tall.

The rain stopped and gave way to a bright welcomed sun. Both passed the next hour without saying anything else to each other, in complete silence, comfortably embraced by the coolness of their involving rock seat and the warm bathing of the slowly rising sun in between the grey sky, both engulfed in their own inner wars, wading through their own thoughts, each one looking for an improved chance of survival to this new ordeal waiting for them at the other side.